The Sylph Hunter Read online

  Kadmiel, the master to the air sylph who brought them, wandered up as the rest of the crew disembarked and headed toward the city. The captain looked as if he’d glued a wildly overgrown thicket to his face and head, and his skin was so wrinkled it resembled a dried-out riverbed. He looked angry as well, his brows just as thick as his hair and drawn together, but Devon had learned over the days they spent traveling that Kadmiel was actually a very quiet man, spending most of his time sitting with his air sylph and watching the waves pass. He had been what Leon called a feeder, but with the queen’s ascension, he’d been freed and Ocean Breeze chose to stay with him. Devon figured that said a lot about the man and he nodded respectfully as Kadmiel stopped beside him, though Airi playing with his hair probably ruined the effect.

  “Are you going to meet anyone?” Kadmiel asked.

  Devon felt his heart sink. Wasn’t he? He didn’t actually know what was supposed to happen when he arrived. Vague visions during the travel of parades of well-wishers and a carriage made of gold were obviously wrong, but he’d thought there would at least be someone. He looked at the nearly empty streets nervously, not sure what to do. Not even the arrival of Airi in a foreign hive seemed to have attracted any attention.

  “No one’s coming?” Kadmiel asked.

  “I don’t know,” Devon whispered. He gripped the railing so tightly his fingers turned white. “I’m supposed to be an ambassador.” It sounded so stupid saying it. He wasn’t anything.

  “Oh.” Kadmiel thought for a moment. “I was just told to take the others back and bring you.” He turned and looked back toward the stern of the ship for a long moment. “I asked Ocean Breeze to tell them you’re here.”

  Devon looked at him hopefully. “Then they’re coming?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Devon sagged. Now what were they going to do? He was supposed to be here in Leon’s place, helping Queen Eapha learn how to rule her kingdom. He could guarantee that if it were Leon arriving, there would be someone waiting for him, and if not, Leon would march straight into that city and find them.

  Maybe we should do that, Airi suggested.

  Devon blinked. “What? How?”

  Kadmiel looked at him in puzzlement and then up at his wildly waving hair. Shrugging, he went back to Ocean Breeze, and Devon sagged. “I don’t want to go in there if they don’t want me.” He wasn’t a brave man. To just walk in was terrifying.

  We can’t go back either, she pointed out. What other choice do we have?

  Devon sagged even more. She was right. There was a battle sylph back in the Valley who’d made it abundantly clear that he’d take it as a personal favor if Devon never set foot in the same kingdom as him again. It wasn’t as though he had much to go back to anyway. His father had passed away a few years after Devon moved to the Valley and he was single, though he was going to be a father. He shoved that thought away abruptly. The fact that he wasn’t going to be the father had also been made clear to him. He wasn’t certain how he felt about that. Sure, he liked Solie, but not enough to be a parent with her. Especially not with a battle sylph already determined to do the job himself.

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” he admitted at last.

  The Racing Dawn had no plans to go anywhere. In fact, Kadmiel seemed to not have any more direction than Devon, though he was content to merely sit and wait. After being in a cage for years, Devon supposed, it had to be nirvana just to sit on the deck and watch the waves come in. He did agree to watch the bulk of Devon’s possessions, and Devon only gathered a few essentials, in case he didn’t find the queen immediately and wasn’t able to get back to the ship by nightfall.

  Airi invisibly hugging his neck, Devon walked down the gangplank brought up to the side of the ship and started inland, following the wide road that led away from the harbor. The farther he went, the worse the heat got, leaving him glad of the thin shirt he wore, but regretting the long pants and boots that were common back home. Around him, the men he saw wore billowy shirts and pants that reached to their knees, with sandals on their bare feet. Resolving to get himself a set as soon as he could, he fanned himself with his hand and kept going. Airi struggled to send a cooling breeze over him, though the best she could manage was to fan his sweat. As sylphs went, she was hardly powerful, but she took the edge off and Devon made his way gradually up from the harbor and into the city itself. He thought that once he stepped into the shade of the buildings the heat would lessen, but the air didn’t move and the temperature didn’t change, though he did wonder if it was actually getting hotter.

  “I think I might just hate it here already,” he remarked, and Airi started giggling.

  The road continued on, straight enough that Devon didn’t worry about getting lost. The number of people grew more numerous in the city, but they didn’t turn into the crushing crowds that Leon had warned him about. That was probably a good thing, given how they stared as he passed. And that really wasn’t surprising, since next to them, Devon figured he had to look as though he’d been dipped in bleach. They stared, but the men didn’t speak to him, continuing on their own business while the women he passed ducked their heads and scurried away. That reaction was the strangest; he’d grown used to the Valley, where women had the same rights and strength of opinion as men. These women almost looked as if they were afraid he’d contaminate them.

  You make them nervous, Airi told him. I don’t know why.

  Neither did Devon. Ahead of them, the wall he’d seen from the air ship towered over everything. The road led straight through it, passing under an arch where the gate had been ripped completely away, leaving strips of jagged metal sticking outward, stretched like taffy where they’d been pulled. Devon could only think of one kind of sylph that had the strength and violence to rip metal apart like candy, and he shuddered.

  He walked through the arch and into the main city. This close, he could see chunks blown out of the thick stone walls of the buildings and from the cobblestone streets. Scorch marks were everywhere, and some of the buildings he passed were gutted, the remains vaporized or blown to who knew where. There was still a fair amount of rubble in the streets, but the people made no attempt to clear it away. They just edged around and sometimes over it, ignoring the mess as completely as the garbage. In the city proper, there was more rubbish than at the harbor, and without the ocean scent to mask it, the smell was even worse.

  “Why doesn’t anyone clean it up?” he wondered.

  I don’t know. No one feels like they care.

  How could they not care? Devon wondered. They were the ones who had to live in it. He didn’t see anyone who looked to be in charge; even in Eferem they had city guards to keep the peace. Here, there didn’t seem to be anyone, though of course, Leon had briefed him about that as well, hadn’t he? Meridal had battle sylphs.

  A shadow fell across him, and Airi screamed in fear, pressing against his neck. Devon started and looked up to see a black cloud descending toward him, lightning crashing in mad silence within it. Two red eyes formed from ball lightning glared at him above a mouth of jagged, electrical teeth.

  Many years before, when Devon had been a small child and Airi still belonged to his father, everyone in Eferem City had been ordered to attend an execution. Three men had been tied to stakes on the rise of a hill outside the city, and Devon had been in the front row when a battle sylph in the shape of a giant cat was set loose on them.

  The creature had toyed with them at first, drawing blood with vicious swipes while the men howled. It had even freed them, cutting their bonds and playing with them more as they tried to run. It had tossed them in the air, and then just their body parts as it tore their limbs off. It ripped the men apart slowly and when it was finally done with them, it blew the entire hill to dust, leaving nothing behind.

  The entire time the creature was torturing those men, Devon had been able to feel its hate, solid and unrelenting.
Underneath, he could also feel its glee, and its sick pleasure.

  Since that time, though intellectually he knew that not all battlers were the same, Devon had only been capable of one reaction when faced with them.

  Devon’s heart pounded in terror and he bolted, running down the street with his sylph pressed close to his neck and other people running around him. Everyone was trying to get away, whipped by the hate aura from the battler that speared into all of them.

  It was obvious immediately who the creature was after. Devon felt the battler coming after him, and seconds later, something tripped up his feet. He crashed to the ground, rolling over to try and get Airi behind him. She wasn’t part of the battler’s hive. She was young and small, though, not a threat. Leon had told him she’d be safe!

  Devon stared up into one of the most handsome faces he’d ever seen. That was normal. Battle sylphs could shape-shift into any kind of creature, but when they were human, they were always gorgeous, their beauty a lure and a reward for any woman who saw them. Even men were caught by that attraction, and Devon felt an old resentment that he’d never be that striking.

  “Don’t hurt us!” he blurted instead, one hand held out before him as though that would ward the battler off. He could turn Devon into a red mist coating the bottom of a crater if he wanted to. “We’re here from Sylph Valley, as ambassadors. We’re here to help your queen!”

  Perfect hands on perfect hips, the battle sylph regarded them both. Beside him, Devon felt his air sylph shift and take on solid form, something she rarely did. Devon turned his head and saw her, in the shape of a young girl, still translucent but visible as she threw herself to the ground and cowered before the battler.

  “Don’t hurt my master,” she pleaded. “I beg you!”

  “Don’t hurt her!” Devon yelped, more afraid for her in that second than he was for himself. What was he even doing here? He must have gone mad to think he could do this.

  The battle sylph studied them both for a long moment. The rest of the street was empty now, no one left to witness anything as the creature stepped forward and hunkered down, glaring at them both through blazing eyes. He studied them, reading their emotions and probably their souls, and finally snorted.

  “Pathetic little thing,” he said at last to Airi, who just pressed herself farther down, as submissive as Devon had ever seen her. It might even have been the only thing saving her life. “The queen said someone was coming.” Straightening up, the battler leaped into the air and changed, becoming again a black cloud streaked with lightning, and lifted away.

  Devon lay where he’d been left, gasping for air. Beside him, Airi lifted her head and looked at him before shifting back to her usual, invisible form. He felt her press against his neck and back. I guess he decided to leave us alone.

  “I guess.” He moved slowly into a seated position. He was covered in sweat, most of it, he was sure, not due to the heat.

  Too bad he didn’t tell us where the queen was.

  Devon shook his head. The less contact one of those monsters had with them, the better. Still, he thought as he climbed to his feet, it would have been nice. He looked down the length of the street they were on. With the heat haze in the distance and the turns, it was impossible to tell how long it was, or even if they were going in the right direction. With a sigh, he continued on.

  Zalia found her thoughts turning back to the battle sylph.

  Business was slow. Even back when the emperor ruled and the city was full, most people preferred to avoid the greatest heat of the day, and that had only become worse since the queen arrived. No one seemed to have money anymore, including those who’d been wealthy before the revolution. There weren’t many of them left either. The battle sylphs had killed hundreds, if not thousands, of people in purges after they were freed. They’d destroyed a great many homes and lands as well, leaving most of the kingdom’s wealth in ruins. Slavery was illegal, punished by the battlers’ rage, but at least a slave in the old Meridal was fed.

  Zalia cleaned one of the tables on the covered patio, wondering if anyone would come and what she would do if the restaurant closed and she lost her job. Likely, she and her father would have to join the exodus of those who were following the coastline to the next kingdom. There was no guarantee of salvation there and probably no fate better than becoming a serf or a slave, but it was better than no hope at all. Meridal was falling apart.

  Maybe she should have taken that battler up on his offer, she thought furiously, and then blushed a vivid red. What kind of life was it to be a sylph’s woman anyway? Her father’s heart would have shattered. One-Eleven had been so warm though, his touch so exciting. She shivered for a moment and felt her toes curl in her sandals just the tiniest bit from remembered sensations.

  “What’s wrong?” Ilaja asked, and Zalia jumped, almost dropping her rag as she turned her still furiously blushing face to her fellow waitress. “Are you sick?”

  “I’m fine,” Zalia managed to squeak. “Just a little light-headed is all.”

  Ilaja looked somewhat dubious, but finally she shrugged. “Maybe you should drink some water.”

  Zalia shook her head. She was thirsty, but good drinking water was expensive and she’d spilled what she’d taken from the stable when she ran that morning. She’d wait until later and fill her skin again from one of the troughs back at the stable, provided she could manage it without being seen. She thought of the battle sylph again, ducking her head.

  “Look at him,” Ilaja said suddenly.

  Zalia’s head snapped up, her cheeks burning even more hotly as she expected to see the battle sylph coming back to try his luck again. Instead, she watched a man walking down the empty street, making his way in full sunshine during the worst heat of the day. He wore a heavy linen shirt and pants, as well as boots his feet had to be baking in. Zalia’s eyes widened, wondering if it was Leon Petrule come back from whatever frozen land he’d gone to. It wasn’t, of course. Leon couldn’t come back because his battler wasn’t part of Eapha’s hive. The other battlers would have killed him. Besides, Leon had learned before he left how to dress properly for the heat and this was a much younger man, his hair sticking out everywhere in sweaty spikes and his face red from sunburn.

  “He’s so pale,” Ilaja gasped.

  Zalia nodded absently. Of course, Ilaja hadn’t seen Leon close up when he’d come to the restaurant and he’d been trying to hide his identity at the time. He hadn’t really done a good job of it, since the heavy cloak he’d worn only made him stand out when Zalia first saw him. It was the boots that had really made her wonder though, even before she’d seen his blue eyes. No one else in Meridal had blue eyes.

  This man’s eyes were as brown as a local’s, even if his skin was shades lighter than anyone born to Meridal. He walked up the steps and into the shaded interior of the patio, heading wearily toward them. He must have no water on him, Zalia thought. Pale people like Leon didn’t seem to handle the heat well. Ilaja backed away, afraid of him, and ran to the kitchens while Zalia stepped forward, wondering, with no small degree of fright, whether this would mean that more changes were coming to Meridal.

  “Can I get you some water, sir?” she asked as she held a chair out for him.

  He didn’t so much sit in it as fall. “Yeah,” he croaked, and, as she turned away, asked, “Is it always so hot here?”

  Zalia smiled at him over her shoulder. “It’s much hotter in the summer, sir.”

  His groan followed her toward the kitchen.

  She got him a cool clay jug of water and a mug. While Ilaja watched her suspiciously and the cooks sat as far from the stoves as they could, fanning themselves, she put the water on a tray and carried it back out. The stranger was sitting slumped back in his chair, his head hanging over the back while he fanned himself with one hand. Zalia giggled but managed to hide her smile before she reached him.

  “You
r water, sir.”

  She set it all before him, carefully filling the mug with some of the water before she placed the jug in the center of the table. The man lurched forward, wiped sweat off his forehead, and grabbed the mug, draining it as fast as he could. His hand shaking a bit, he filled it again and drank a little more slowly.

  “Thank you,” he gasped at last, pressing the mug against his forehead.

  “You’re welcome, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how anyone can eat in this heat.” He looked at her, his brown eyes shadowed and his face patchy from the burn. His hair was waving softly, though Zalia didn’t feel a breeze. “Can you tell me where I can get some better clothes for here?”

  “Of course, sir.” She hesitated, wondering if she dared ask him anything. The staff weren’t supposed to socialize with the customers, but if he did come here like Leon had…she hadn’t seen the man much after the queen ascended, and once he had left, she hadn’t seen anyone from that day at all.

  “Do you know Leon Petrule, sir?” she asked.

  He looked up at her again, his expression incredulous. His hair suddenly swept upward in a mohawk and she blinked.

  “You know Leon?” he blurted.

  Zalia nodded, holding her tray flat against her belly. “Yes, sir. He stayed with my father and myself while he was here. He’s a very noble man.”

  The man stared at her for a moment and then squeezed his eyes shut, snapping his fingers repeatedly while he thought. “You’re…you’re…give me a minute…you’re…Zalia! And your father’s Xed? Xel?”

  “Xehm,” she corrected, smiling.

  “Right. Sorry.” He opened his eyes, looking at her again, and Zalia blushed a bit. He was rather cute under the sunburn and the soaked, wild hair. It swayed suddenly and she squinted at it, puzzled.

  He looked upward, his eyes crossing. “Oh! Zalia, meet Airi. Airi, meet Zalia.”

  Out of nothingness, a girl formed from the sand swirling up off the ground. The fine granules made her outline as she looked up at Zalia and smiled. Before Zalia could do more than gape at her, the girl let go of the sand and it scattered across the floor again.