Queen of the Sylphs Page 14

  Twenty priests stood arrayed around the circle, chanting. Their words reverberated through the room, echoing from the perfect acoustics of the rounded ceiling. The circle itself was glowing, with a second circle of energy hanging directly above. This circle started to glow as well. The space inside shimmered with changing colors.

  A woman with a club foot stood in the center of the circle, looking nervously upward. She was the offering; her injury, they hoped, would be attractive to a healer on the other side. Such sylphs weren’t simple to find. Healers weren’t common in the other world, either, and most stayed in their hives. Even when sent out to heal an injured sylph, they weren’t easy to lure away. First, they had to want to come. Second, they had to get past their battle sylph guardians. No hive wanted to lose healers.

  Near Petr, the head priest, was a fire sylph. She wasn’t Petr’s—he’d refused a new sylph when his first was killed nearly a decade before—but her master stood nearby. The fire sylph had shown a great sensitivity for what waited on the other side of the gate. She wore the shape of a little girl made of flickering flame, and Ash was her name. She liked to have a specific purpose beyond the standard role of “Keep things lit, keep things warm.” Her job was to locate sylphs—or rather, to determine what sylphs were on the other side of any gate they opened.

  “No healers,” she announced. There never were any.

  Petr sighed and made a gesture. The chanting stopped. Immediately, both gates dimmed, and the one in the air closed and disappeared. They’d wait five minutes and then try again.

  The gate opened every time in a different place, though the humans were pretty sure the locations were all within a set range. There was likely some sort of corresponding physicality to their worlds. Every sylph brought through the gate here had seemed to originate from one of only a dozen or so original hives, and none of those, according to Devon’s letters, equated to any of the tapped hives in Meridal.

  Solie rubbed her stomach, still not envying Eapha for being queen to so many sylphs. Still, having Meridal as an ally did reduce the threat of Eferem. It was a great relief to know that within two weeks of sending a mental call to Airi she could—in theory, anyway—have an entire army of battle sylphs and their masters arriving to defend her people. Her own battlers would no doubt be unhappy, but they would obey her, and Leon had promised that Eapha was no enemy to them. She had no reason to be.

  Still, they needed a healer. Badly. Human doctors could do a lot, but there were many injuries that would mean death without a healer sylph. Solie didn’t want to see that happen. Eapha had dozens, she knew, so maybe if they didn’t draw a healer of their own before the baby was born, Solie would ask her to send one until they did.

  She stood and watched two more attempts to open a gate near a healer, both unsuccessful. Finally, she left, heading back out into the sunshine with her entourage. She felt discouraged but not really unhappy. Not with the weight in her belly. However the child was going to turn out, Solie was already desperately in love with her.

  Solie hadn’t needed to ask Heyou who the biological father was; he just wasn’t any good at keeping secrets. She smiled at the happy battler as they walked. Would the baby end up looking like Devon? she wondered. She hadn’t talked to Devon about it except for the day he left, and Devon hadn’t mentioned it in any of his letters. Knowing how he felt about battlers, she doubted it had been his idea to be a donor. She didn’t want to risk embarrassing him or get Heyou feeling jealous.

  “Hey, girl.”

  Solie looked up to see Galway riding toward her, dressed in a bearskin cape and leading a second horse. His son Nelson walked beside him, dressed in a normal tunic, which showed that, wherever his father was going, Nelson wasn’t following.

  “Off hunting again?” Solie asked.

  The former trapper smiled. “Now that the harvest is in, I figured I’d better. Before the weather turns cold.”

  “Or before Mom thinks of something for him to do instead,” Nelson suggested.

  Solie giggled.

  Heyou glared at Galway. “Hey! What am I supposed to eat while you’re gone?”

  Solie could feel he wasn’t really angry, and Galway could tell his battler’s moods just as easily. “I’ll be gone for only a few days, boy, and if you get hungry, you know how to find me. Besides, that’s why I came looking for you before I left. Come here.”

  Leaving Solie’s side, Heyou went over and leaned against Galway’s leg. He stared up at the mounted man, and his eyes softened as he drew Galway’s energy.

  Unless a battler was starved and drew very heavily, the master never even felt the loss. Galway smiled down fondly at the sylph. “Good boy,” he chuckled, and he ruffled Heyou’s hair.

  “That always looks so weird,” Nelson complained.

  “Does not!” Heyou mock growled, stepping belligerently into the young man’s face. His sort-of stepbrother grinned and puffed out his chest. Solie rolled her eyes.

  “Oh! They’re not going to fight, are they?”

  Startled, Solie looked over to see Sala standing a few feet away, one hand pressed to her bosom.

  Heyou grinned. “Maybe,” he said.

  Nelson shoved him, and the two started wrestling, shrieking and yelling, with the human doing much better than he ever would if Heyou took the tussle seriously.

  Galway shook his head and nudged his horse into a walk. “I’ll see you in a few days, girl. The mountains are calling, and those boys are too damn noisy.”

  Solie watched him ride off before returning her attention to the mock fight. Sala watched, too, and Solie felt a sudden urge to leave, though Heyou certainly didn’t act threatened and Dillon remained calm at her feet. It was silly. Sala had the steadiest emotions Solie had ever felt from a woman, and the battlers weren’t bothered by her. She even had a battler of her own, and Claw didn’t seem to be doing badly. He’d even stopped walking around with blue hair. Still, something about Sala made Solie uncomfortable, even though Sala had managed to become part of her inner circle. Just because the girl always showed up with one of her other friends didn’t mean Solie liked her.

  Before Sala could try and start a conversation, Solie turned and walked away. Dillon rose and followed. Heyou continued his fight until she was nearly half a block away; then he broke free of Nelson and ran to join her, his stepbrother laughingly yelling insults.

  “Silly boy,” Solie said as he drew up beside her.

  “What did you expect?” he asked, grinning.

  She had to laugh.

  Galway rode to the east, toward Para Dubh, leaving the lush greenery of the Valley and entering the sterile wasteland that was the Shale Plains. To reach any settlement would take days, but he wasn’t looking to see other people. With the harvest in and the workload eased for at least the next few days, he was off to do a little hunting. He loved his family and enjoyed his job, but sometimes he just needed to get away. After decades of marriage, both he and Iyala recognized that sometimes they both had to find time alone.

  The border of Para Dubh was only a few hours’ ride from the Valley, and the hunting was good once the mountains were reached. To go to Eferem and its forests would have taken much longer and thanks to his affiliation with Solie he had a price on his head there. No, this was the best plan. He’d take the route he always took.

  The former trapper didn’t pay much attention to the landscape, dotted as it was by gray thornbushes, though he did note signs of change. The sylphs were spreading life even here. Grass was growing on either side of the road that led up into the mountains of Para Dubh. There were even a few autumn windflowers.

  He reached the green forests and rising slopes that marked the border soon after lunch, and he rode through them for only an hour more before he found a deer trail and left the road. The trail brought him to a small waterfall and a clearing overshadowed by trees. He’d camped here before. It was late afternoon by this point, and he set up camp quickly, though there wasn’t any rush. He’d hunt tomorrow
, perhaps find a deer he could skin to make a coat for Iyala. She did love the feel of deer leather.

  Content, he finished making camp and lit a fire. It burned merrily while he brushed and fed the horses. They seemed as glad to be free of the Valley as he, scarfing down the oats he’d brought. Wind stirred in the tree branches, and as the evening deepened he could hear frogs and crickets. The air was cool but still warm enough for comfort. Galway sighed deeply. He would never regret falling in with Solie, but this . . . this was where his heart lay.

  Over the fire he hung a small pot filled with water and meat, along with some vegetables and herbs for flavor. It bubbled as he sat checking the fletching on his arrows and the sharpness of his knife blade. Definitely a deer tomorrow. If he got lucky, perhaps some mink or ermine. Iyala would appreciate a fur stole more than a leather coat for the coming winter.

  The horses whickered, stamping their feet nervously and pulling at their tethers. Galway looked toward them and then intently into the woods, listening and watching the darkness. The beasts had surely scented a predator, so he tossed a few more pieces of wood onto the fire. The flames roared up. Galway kept to one side, careful not to let it blind him while he moved to soothe the horses. The beasts steadied a bit at his touch but still tossed their heads and shifted in fear. Over their racket he couldn’t hear anything else.

  The other animals of the night were silent now, hiding. Definitely a predator. Muttering under his breath, Galway picked up his bow, quickly stringing it and nocking an arrow. Somewhere beyond the light of his campfire, a twig snapped.

  The two horses screamed, rearing up and trying to break their tethers. This time, Galway didn’t try to calm them. He stepped out of range of their hooves, just watching the darkness. His heart pounded faster, but he kept his breathing calm and even, his concentration focused. He’d run into sylvan predators before; it was just a matter of dealing with whatever appeared. He had far too much experience to be overwhelmed by fear.

  The horses were another matter. They threw themselves against their bonds, shrieking in mad panic. The ropes finally broke. Both horses crashed away, vanishing into the darkness through the bushes. At least they’d be easy to track, Galway mused.

  There was no other sound from the darkness, but stepping out of the bushes at the edge of the light from his campfire came a huge, hunched shape. Galway swore silently. A massive grizzly bear stood there, swinging its head up and regarding him with beady eyes.

  Galway started to back up. A bear might be killed by an arrow, but it usually took more than one, and this beast wasn’t even ten feet away, far closer than he’d like. It had no real reason to attack him, not with his dinner sitting so conveniently close and all that horsemeat already fled. Still, Galway backed up farther, fully intending to abandon the camp to the bear.

  A second beast appeared from the bush to the right. Galway froze. Both bears were male and fully adult, which was strange. Adult male bears didn’t hunt together. Even stranger, the first animal lifted its head, sniffing toward Galway while the second edged around the fire. Neither paid any attention to the stew.

  Behind Galway was the pool at the base of the waterfall and the stream that led away from it. The waterfall bisected a cliff far too steep for bears but easy enough for a man to climb. Galway edged toward it, retreating carefully with his bow, his feet finding purchase first on the mossy ground and then on the stony edge of the stream. He continued moving backward as the second bear trotted fully around the fire and paused to chuff at the first. It singed its fur in order to do so. Sad eyes from the first fixed on Galway.

  The water was only a few inches deep, barely enough to cover the feet of Galway’s boots. He splashed onward, not daring to look down, sure they’d attack if he did. The two bears followed, the second seeming almost to defer to the first.

  The second chuffed again, hopping up and down on its front paws. The first hunched lower, shaking its head and stopping for a moment, apparently unhappy with the other’s presence. The second just hopped more, still chuffing.

  Galway stepped out of the stream and onto the bank. He continued moving for a few more feet until his back pressed up against the cliff, which he remembered as thirty feet high, rough-edged, and easy to climb. He wouldn’t be able to carry his bow. Not without strapping it across his back.

  The first bear turned to the second, snapping, and the second stopped where it was, stiff with surprise. Galway took that moment to drop his bow and turn, immediately grabbing the ridges of the cliff and starting to climb.

  The rock was solid and dry here, which was fortunate given how much moss grew on it. In seconds he was ten feet high and rising, going nearly straight up. He’d hit twenty feet before the bears even realized he’d moved.

  They roared, a sound that was nearly deafening. Galway kept climbing, forcing his breathing to remain steady as he pulled himself up, aware he was high enough already that they couldn’t reach him. Hanging on tightly, he risked a look down.

  The bears charged across the stream. The first hurled itself at the cliff, still roaring, and slammed its claws against the stone. Galway hung on even as the cliff shook, but he knew he was safe. Then the bear dug in its claws and started to climb.

  The old trapper felt the first moment of terror. This was impossible. Somewhere deep in his mind, he felt a questioning reaction and sent out a silent scream for help.

  HEYOU!

  He began climbing again, frantically trying to get to the top of the cliff. From there he had no idea what he was going to do, not against bears that could follow him up vertical surfaces. He had to think of something, had to last long enough for his battle sylph to reach him. Heyou could make it here in minutes. Galway could evade for that long.

  Rock crunched below, and he felt hot breath against his legs. They’d caught up! Four claws like scimitars slammed into his back. Galway screamed in agony, then was torn off the cliff and thrown down. He landed in the stream, and he felt both legs break underneath him. Unable to breathe through the pain, he stared helplessly up at his assailants. His eyes were already hazing over.

  The first bear jumped down from where it had clung to the cliff nearly twenty feet up. It twisted in the air and landed heavily next to the second bear, which hadn’t moved. That beast looked at him excitedly. The first shuddered and walked toward Galway, looming over him as the man coughed up blood.

  Galway shook with pain. He could still feel Heyou coming and knew the battler would save him—only, the animals were closing in and all he could see was the sad eyes of the first bear. Those, and its inescapable teeth.

  Heyou exploded out of the hive through one of the air vents. Lightning flashed through his cloud form as he spread insubstantial wings and shot across the sky, gaining altitude as he raced toward his master, following that cry of fear. Below, other battlers rose, roaring warnings as the rest of the sylphs fled.

  Mace sent a demand to know what was happening, but Heyou didn’t answer. Right now, Galway was all that mattered. It was all he’d been able to manage just to send a plea to Dillon and Blue to guard Solie, and her fright and curiosity pounded at him. His queen needed him. But his master needed him more.

  Heyou blew through the Valley and across the plains, racing with the winds toward the mountains where his master had gone to hunt. They grew in size impossibly fast, for he was putting everything he had into the flight.

  He felt Galway’s terror, and the battle sylph screamed, forcing himself to go even faster, the plains vanishing under him and being replaced by green forest. He felt Galway’s pain.

  Then he felt Galway die.

  Heyou wailed. Dropping down into a small clearing by a waterfall, he released his rage and pain in a terrible blast. Everything around him exploded, disintegrating down to the bare stone for a distance of a hundred feet—all but the clearing itself. The clearing stayed intact, and Heyou landed with tearless sobs, splashing into the stream and drawing up the body of his friend.

  Battle sylphs cou
ldn’t weep. Heyou howled instead, hugging Galway despite the blood and the gore, howling and rocking until the other battle sylphs came to find him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been three days. Birds sang in the garden, mindless of anyone’s grief. Solie walked across her living room and into the bedroom, Dillon padding behind her in the shape of a great gray wolf. Her morning nausea was back, thanks to stress.

  Heyou lay sprawled on the big bed, the sheets kicked away from his body. Solie bit her lip and went to sit beside him, leaning down to cup her battler’s cheek and kiss his brow. Silently he rolled onto his side and put an arm around her, hugging her to him with his cheek pressed to her belly.

  “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she whispered.

  Heyou shrugged noncommittally, and she stroked her hand down his shoulder. Under her fingers, she could feel him shaking.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, knowing he was failing. Even if she hadn’t been able to feel it, Mace had told her so. Heyou had gone through nearly all of his energy trying to get to Galway in time.

  He shook his head.

  Solie bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears. She loved Heyou so much, and she’d never seen him in such pain. Of course, he’d never lost anyone he loved before. Sylphs, she was learning, didn’t handle loss well, and she felt a moment of sadness that they were bound to such fragile creatures as humans.

  “Please drink my energy,” she said to him. “You need to.”

  It wasn’t an order, not yet, and Heyou shook his head. “You might lose the baby.”

  “I don’t care,” she choked.

  Heyou pulled back just enough to look up at her with miserable eyes. “I do.”

  Solie sniffed, wiping her eyes as her lover rolled away from her and buried his face in a pillow. It wasn’t fair. Two battlers had now lost their masters unexpectedly, and neither of them was handling it well. She herself wasn’t handling it well. Rachel and Galway had both been her friends, and she wasn’t even sure how the Valley would manage. Galway had been an integral part of the government. Solie didn’t know how she could replace him.