Queen of the Sylphs (16 page)

Putting his arms around them both, Ril closed his eyes again. He had other masters—the men who’d been his feeders back in Meridal, and Justin, who’d come home with him—but none of those mattered. He wouldn’t care if they lived or died, would never think to come to their aid. But these two . . .

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Lizzy whispered to her father. “He’s upset.”

Leon just stood, returning Ril’s embrace. “I see that. Girls, out.”

The children shuffled out. Betha followed, watching her husband uncertainly. He nodded to her, so she herded the kids toward the back of the house.

Alone, Lizzy, Leon, and Ril stood in their three-way hug, their arms wrapped around one another.

“What is it?” Leon whispered, his breath warm on Ril’s ear. The battler just held him closer, not wanting to speak.

Of course, with these two, he didn’t have to speak. He told them silently,
Claw’s master died
.

“Oh—” Lizzy started to say, but her father shushed her. They all just stood, holding one another, letting their battler draw energy and comfort for as long as he needed.

Mace returned to Lily’s house well after dark. Sitting in the front room and doing their homework by lamplight, several of the orphans she fostered looked up as he walked through the front door, but Mace just strode to the kitchen. That was the heart of this home; it was where he’d find her.

She was cleaning up the last of the dishes from the day’s baking, while Gabralina knitted socks. The pair had been chatting calmly, the younger of the two dropping stitches as she talked, but Lily stilled and looked past her when Mace entered.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. Gabralina stared over her shoulder.

“Rachel died,” he said. “Claw had to be given to a new master.”

Lily’s lips thinned. Though none of it showed on her face, she was pained. Rachel had been a friend.

She looked at Gabralina. “Get the rest of the children to bed and take yourself home.”

Gabralina nodded and set her knitting in the basket. She wasn’t the smartest person Mace had ever seen, but she didn’t lack in compassion. She hurried out to do as instructed.

Lily turned fully away from the sink, drying her hands on a towel. “That’s . . .” she started to say. “That’s . . .” A tear trickled down her cheek. “Oh, now I’m being foolish.”

Mace crossed the kitchen and put his arms around her. “Never foolish,” he murmured, his arms sliding around to press her closer against him. “Not my Lily.”

It took a moment before her arms came around him as well. Lily hated weakness in herself more than others. Mace knew how lucky he was to have her. He was domineering and proud, used during his slavery to flexing the aura of his lust at any woman he wanted and having her lift her skirts. Not after Lily. She wouldn’t allow it. It was just the two of them.

He wanted to make love to her, wanted to reaffirm their bond as he was sure every other battle sylph in the Valley was doing. He still had assassins to hunt down, and none of them could figure out how they’d escaped, but he needed this.

Lily pushed her hands against his chest, forcing him back so that she could look up at him. “Who’s the new master?” she asked.

“Her name is Sala,” Mace said. “A friend to Gabralina.” He didn’t know much else about the young woman, other than she was spending more and more time with the queen and her friends these days.

“Will she make a good master?”

“I don’t see why not. I can’t sense anything malicious about her at all.”

Lily sighed and leaned against him again. “That’s good. Now, take me to bed, Mace. I don’t want to think about anything more. Not tonight.”

He did, and she didn’t.

Chapter Eleven

The exile was the only one happy to see her anymore.

In the hive, the alienation continued. It was growing worse. The nameless sylph wasn’t allowed in the queen’s chamber anymore, or where the food sylphs were fed and milked. Or in the chamber with the hatchlings and eggs. That last restriction hurt the worst, for she longed to see the eggs and the tiny babies coiled in their beds.

She wasn’t allowed into the energy stores either, though that rule was still only loosely enforced. She managed to get enough to feed herself—and her new friend as well. Half in and half out of a storage room now, guarded by a small, sullen little battler, she scooped up balls of energy, tucking them into her mantle.

You done yet?
he groused.

She grabbed a few more, tucking them inside herself with the others. Some were for her, some were for her friend, and a lot was to hoard just in case. The impossible horror of “just in case” seemed to be becoming more probable every day, and a deep, rippling itch speared her, making the nameless sylph shudder.

What are you doing?
the battler demanded.

Almost done,
she replied, scooping up an entire pile and hoping he didn’t notice how much fatter she was with the energy hidden inside. When she backed out of the room, the battler eyed her dully. He was obviously of an inferior mating, doomed to always be small and stupid, his lightning slow and sluggish. She wondered for a moment what had happened to his father. But, she knew, didn’t she? His father might well be the battler hiding on the outskirts of the field—though he’d said he’d never been with a queen.

Thank you,
she said to the little battler, turning and hurrying away before he could get too close a look.

He glared after her.
Don’t come back!
he shouted, making her glad she’d hoarded all she had. There were many storage rooms in the hive, but if even the dullards were picking up on her disgrace, she’d lose access to them all very soon.

The nameless sylph glanced in the direction of the queen’s chambers and for a moment felt an instant of deep hatred, but she quickly suppressed it. Malice would just bring battlers. Instead, she made her way toward one of the exits, taking a circuitous route that kept her away from as many battle sylphs as possible. Not all of them were as dim as the one she’d just left.

As usual, she was mostly ignored, except for some elementals cringing away from her and a few glaring battlers. None of them said anything.

The nameless sylph flitted out of the hive and away across the fields, her back itching almost unbearably, and she finally put on some altitude so that the earth and water sylphs who tended the crops wouldn’t get too close a look at her. She found the exile near where she’d left him the previous day, desolately munching on a few leaves from a purple plant while he waited.

At the sight of her, he perked up immensely, his inner lightning increasing in speed. Being around him made the itch inside a hundred times worse, but who else did she have to be with? Her kind wasn’t designed to be alone.

“So, they escaped while the rest of us were dealing with the accident at the warehouse?”

Mace stood immobile at the door. “Presumably.”

Leon frowned, hunkering down and lifting the edge of a blanket abandoned in the prison cell. There was nothing under it. He dropped the blanket and rubbed his jaw. “Left during, or caused the accident in order to cover their escape?”

“We would have known,” Mace said.

Leon sighed and straightened, looking past the big battler to where Ril leaned casually against the wall. Solie stood next to him, alongside Heyou and Galway. With all of them there, the room was getting a bit crowded. Ril blinked at him and smirked.

“Let’s back out, shall we?” Leon suggested.

They returned to the main conference room, where Heyou shut the doors. Dillon stood guard outside, currently shaped like a mix of a lion and an eagle. Leon rubbed the back of his head, kicking himself.

“I should have thought of this,” he grumbled. Too many things were happening at once, what with getting Lizzy back and reacquainting himself with his family, preparing Devon for a mission to a far-off land, and then the accident.

“Thought of what?”

Leon glanced at Mace, pretty sure he’d need to demonstrate in order to prove his suspicions to the creature. The sylph was intelligent but could be tremendously inflexible. Proud.

“There’s a way to outwit a battler.”

Mace’s expression didn’t change, but his thoughts about Leon’s statement made Ril growl. Heyou stepped in front of Solie while Dillon peered in, his posture tense.

Leon returned the big battler’s stare, knowing that, more than any of the other sylphs, Mace hated men. He’d despised his original master, and Jasar’s eventual death had been truly unpleasant. For Leon to still be alive as Ril’s master was undoubtedly incomprehensible for him.

“It’s how I stayed alive in Meridal,” Leon explained. “You react to malice, to negative emotions. I controlled what I felt, and I was able to escape notice while they were hunting for me.” He rubbed his bearded jaw thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have expected these four to be able to control their emotions enough. We wouldn’t have caught them in the first place if they were.”

“Someone must have helped,” Solie suggested. “They must have caused the accident at the warehouse to draw the battlers off and then freed these men while everyone was distracted.”

They were all quiet for a moment, chilled.

Leon rubbed his beard again. “They managed to time it for right when Wat wandered away from his post?” He let his hand drop. “We have someone we need to talk to.”

Gabralina sat nervously in a chair in front of Leon’s desk, Wat’s hand clasped in both of hers. Wat sat beside her, looking uncharacteristically serious in a plain brown tunic and pants instead of his previous blue and gold. For once he grasped how dire the situation was, and she squeezed his hand tight as she felt his uncertainty, as well as his instinctive need to attack and destroy all that threatened him.

She tightened her grip, silently pleading with him to be still. He blinked at her and returned the squeeze before returning his stare to the man behind the desk.

It felt just like when she’d been in the Yed court, men screaming that she’d seduced the magistrate and set herself up as his mistress so that she could poison his food. That she’d altered his will so she’d receive everything he owned. She’d pleaded with them that she hadn’t, that she’d innocently met him through her friend Sala and never harmed him. She’d never seen this will they spoke of. She didn’t even know how to write!

They hadn’t listened. Whore, they’d called her. Murderer. She’d been sentenced to death. At least this time she wasn’t alone and no one was screaming.

Leon leaned forward, his hands clasped. Ril sat on the desk edge, next to the chancellor, watching, while Mace stood to the rear. Heyou was here as well, behind Gabralina and Wat.

“Are you all right?” Leon asked. “Do you want a glass of water?”

Gabralina managed a trembling smile and stared down at her lap. “No thank you, Chancellor,” she whispered. Her smile faded.

Leon sighed. “Gabralina . . .” he began. “No one’s accusing you of anything—or Wat. But you know what happened at the warehouse.”

“I-I saw. I carried water for people.”

“I know.” His expression was kind. “You were a big help.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.” Her words were barely audible.

“Gabralina, we need you to help us. We need to know why Wat left his post.”

Gabralina lifted her head, surprised. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“We did,” Mace growled, speaking for the first time. “His answer was . . .
unenlightening.
”

Wat actually flinched.

Gabralina looked at her battle sylph. He was beautiful even dressed in a laborer’s clothing, was everything she’d ever dreamed of as a little girl growing up. Moreover he was devoted to her, loving her unconditionally. Around him, she really did feel beautiful. She also didn’t think that mattered.

“Wat?” she said. He looked at her, his eyes wide. “Why did you leave your post, sweetheart?”

“Um.” He blinked several times, his flawless eyes wide. “There was someone up on the surface. I could feel him, someone evil. Nobody was doing anything about him, so I went. But when I got up there, he was gone. I went looking for him. Then I kind of, um, forgot to come back.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” Mace roared.

Wat cowered. “You were yelling at me.”

Leon sighed, leaning back in his chair. He glanced at Ril, who nodded, and then back at Gabralina, who felt the beginnings of hope. “Thank you, Gabralina. You both can go.”

“It’s all right?” she gasped. “You’re not blaming us for anything?”

“No, we’re not.” Leon shook his head. “It seems we were all tricked. Go home and forget about it.”

“Yes!” Gabralina leaped to her feet, smiling madly. “Of course, Chancellor. Thank you so much.” She reached across the desk and shook his hand, pumping it madly between both of her own. He grinned right back at her. “I’ll never forget this! I mean, yes of course I’ll go home and forget. I promise!”

Wat already had.

The council met several hours later. Solie sat at the head of their table, one hand on her belly as she watched the assembled men. They were sharing the information they compiled about the incident at the warehouse.

“How many people died?” she asked.

“Twenty-three,” Galway answered, not looking at his notes. “Lots more wounded, but Luck has all of them back on their feet. The value of the lost goods is huge.”

“I don’t care about that,” Solie said. “Not now. What about the assassins?”

“We haven’t found them yet,” Mace admitted. Solie didn’t need to be queen to be able to sense his fury. “We’re still looking.”

Solie nodded, her hands tightening around her belly. Heyou saw the gesture and smiled.
You’re safe,
he reminded her.

Yes,
Ril agreed from beside Leon.

Nothing will happen to you,
Mace added.
Ever.

Solie sighed. “Right. Does anyone know who freed them?”

“Someone from Eferem, obviously,” Leon said. “We didn’t exactly make their capture public, so only King Alcor and his people knew they’d come. The best guess I can make is that he sent a battle sylph master, someone who knows intimately what battlers are like and how to deal with them.”