Heidi Heilig and The Girl from Everywhere’s Nix Song Map a Time-Hopping Adventure

When Mimi asked me for a guest post, she suggested I share a list of the maps from myth and history I’d most like to visit. I was thrilled by the idea, so I dove right into research and promptly started to drown. With all the potential places and times available, how on earth to decide? Instead, I took the F train over to the docks in Red Hook to consult an expert: Nix Song, time traveler and navigational virtuoso of The Girl from Everywhere.
The Temptation was in port, and Nix hailed me from the deck. She seemed serious and a bit troubled—as she so often does—but when I told her why I’d come, she lit right up.
“Maps? Come in.” She led me into the captain’s cabin. Her father was gone; was that the source of her worry? I didn’t want to pry, and she didn’t offer the information. Instead, she gestured to the shelves, bristling floor to ceiling with maps. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“Well.” I stared at the collection; it was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, and all the vague ideas I’d come in with had vanished. “I was hoping you could give me an example of a typical route,” I said at last.
“Typical?” She raised an eyebrow.
“You know. Run-of-the-mill mythological things.”
“Like…castrating your father and eating your children? Or Penanggalan detaching their heads and flying around, trailing innards and searching for blood? Or—”
“Um, actually,” I interrupted. “Maybe something less bleak?”
“Like what?”
“You know. Like…slay a dragon, rescue a princess, get some treasure.”
Nix looked at me askance. “I thought you said less bleak,” she muttered, turning to face the shelves. But I said nothing, so as not to distract her, and her eyes grew distant as she considered the task at hand. Finally, she pulled out a map.
[caption id="attachment_6202" align="aligncenter" width="652"] Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division, The New York Public Library[/caption]
I glanced at the tattered parchment. “Tartaria?”
“That’s what Westerners used to call Central Asia. But you see Japan to the south-east? That’s your first stop. Go into the mountains and look for a tengu—a local sort of goblin with a long beak and crazy hair. They make kakuremino—invisibility cloaks, basically. You may have to trick the tengu to get one.”
“How?”
“An unsolvable riddle…a fascinating bauble. That iPhone might work. Do your best—you’ll need the cloak later.” She traced a finger along the map. “After you leave Japan, sail north. Put into any busy port in China and you should be able to pick up a cargo of vegetable lamb.” Nix caught my quizzical look and waved a vague hand. “The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary. Mentioned in various medieval bestiaries. It’s just like it sounds—a plant that fruits a lamb. Supposedly the flesh is sweet as honey.’”
I wrinkled my nose. “Weird.”
“We could go back to Cronus and the baby-eating if you like.”
“No, no, this is good.”
She smiled faintly and unrolled the next chart.
[caption id="attachment_6203" align="aligncenter" width="619"] Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library[/caption]
“Here’s Britain in the 15th century. Go to one of the more powerful monasteries—maybe Westminster, or Glastonbury if you don’t mind traveling a bit overland—and trade your cargo to the monks. They avoid eating animals for fear of ‘unholy passions,’ and the abbots pay top dollar for vegetable lamb.”
“Top dollar?” I can’t help it—my ears perk up—is this the treasure she mentioned? But Nix shook her head.
“You’re not there for the money. All you want in return is Rhydderch Hael’s flaming sword, Dyrnwyn. It’s one of the Thirteen Treasures of the British Isles. Any high-ranking abbott will know where it’s kept.”
“Thirteen Treasures sounds serious. Would they really let me take one?”
“Oh, it’s tradition,” she replied. “Rhydderch Hael was known for offering his sword to anyone who dared hold it. That’s how he got the name Hael—it means ‘generous.’”
“Just a minute.” I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean by dared?”
“It bursts into flames at a touch. But the flame won’t burn a worthy warrior,” Nix added quickly, as if that would reassure me. “Still, no one ever took Rhydderch up on his offer.”
“Yes,” I said drily. “I wonder why.”
“Don’t worry—you’ll prove your worth at your next stop, when you rescue the princes.”
“Princes? Isn’t rescuing the princess more traditional?”
“Trust me, these princes need it more.” Nix stabbed her finger down on the parchment. “Tower of London, 1483. Edward V and Richard, Duke of York, were imprisoned by their uncle Richard III. They were only 12 and 9 at the time.”
Thinking back, I nodded slowly. “I think I saw a History Channel show about this. Weren’t they murdered?”
She snorted. “The History Channel. Look, all we really know is that they disappeared. This is where the cloak of concealment will come in handy.” Suddenly, she took my hand; her voice was low and urgent. “They lost everything, and the man they trust wishes they’d never been born. Take care of them. Please.”
Taken aback by her intensity, I nodded; only then did she release my hand and produce the next map. “Now for your dragon.”
[caption id="attachment_6204" align="aligncenter" width="629"] Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division, The New York Public Library[/caption]
“In the modern era, dragons have been hunted nearly to extinction, but in earlier times, you could find hydras all over Lerna.”
“The hydra?” My mouth went dry. “You mean the one that gave Hercules a run for his money?”
“Wouldn’t be very sporting to send you after the Andean Miniature Woodlizard, now, would it? Take Dyrnwyn and lop off a few heads. The flame should cauterize the wound, and the hydra won’t mind. It’s a bit like pruning a rose.” She grinned at me. “Hydra heads are what your modern ecologists would call a “‘renewable resource.'”
“Very funny.”
“Thank you. Before you leave Greece, go to market and buy a Pontus duck. Their blood is an antidote to any poison. That will be helpful if the hydra got to you. But what you really need the duck for is your treasure.”
“Arriving in France in 1678, you’ll find yourself in the time of King Louis’ XIV during the Affair of the Poisons—an aristocratic murder scandal. Nobles keeling over right and left. That was also the year the king commissioned court jeweller Sieur Pitau to recut the Tavernier Blue into the Blue Diamond of the Crown of France.”
[caption id="attachment_6205" align="aligncenter" width="637"] Lionel Pincus and Princess Firyal Map Division, The New York Public Library[/caption]
“A blue diamond? Any relation to—”
“The Hope diamond, yes. That name came later, after the crown jewels were lost to the French Revolution. But the original stone was one hundred and fifteen carats. Pitau cut it down to seventy.”
I frown. “And the other forty five?”
“No one knows.” Nix gave me a pointed look. “But I think an antidote to poison would be very valuable in a time when courtiers were dying in droves. And there’s M. Pitau with a chunk of diamond Louis won’t miss.” She spread her hands then, and I saw pride in her eyes. “There you have it. Dragon, princes, treasure.”
“Very impressive, Nix. I know everyone will love it.”
She blushed a bit; I could tell she was pleased. But then she hesitated. “Do you…do you want to borrow the maps?”
I took a breath: I knew how precious the maps were to her—the offer must have been difficult to make. “This was a hypothetical exercise,” I told her, regretful. “I don’t know how to Navigate, remember?”
“Right. Right,” she said again, looking down at the map of London, where the princes languished in the tower. “Well. Let me know if you change your mind.”
We said our goodbyes, and I went straight home to write up this post while it was still fresh in my mind. But that night, I couldn’t stop thinking of the princes, locked away in the dark. Nix had been right—the story was terribly bleak. I have a young son myself, you understand? And the next morning, I made my way back to Red Hook. Perhaps, I thought, with the will and the right maps, I could make a go. But when I got to the dock, the Temptation was gone, and the maps along with her.
Were they off to London, to smuggle two children from the tower under a tengu’s kakuremino? I could only hope so. And perhaps next time Nix is in town, I’ll ask for something more upbeat. Like the Penanggalan and their search for blood.
The Girl from Everywhere is available now!