Queen of the Sylphs (19 page)

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 couldn’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.

She didn’t want to even think about it right now. She couldn’t. Heyou was lost in misery, starving himself in grief.

She could order him to feed from her energy, Solie knew, but . . . She put a hand over her unborn daughter and rose, stroking Heyou’s hair before slipping out of the bedroom. Ril stood just outside, waiting.

“Iyala and Nelson are here to see Heyou,” he told her.

Solie stopped, surprised and grieving all over again. Everything had happened so fast, Heyou’s pain was so all-consuming, she hadn’t spared a thought yet for Galway’s family, for the woman who’d acted so much like a mother to both herself and Heyou.

“Let them in,” she said, swallowing down shame and anguish.

Ril nodded and turned away. He didn’t ask how Heyou was doing; he knew.

Dillon padded up beside Solie, and he sat down as the door opened to admit Galway’s wife and oldest son. Iyala’s face was pale, but her expression was firm and her plump arms immediately reached out for Solie. The young queen ran into them, sobbing. The older woman embraced her, whispering reassurances, though it seemed mad that Iyala should be the one comforting her. It should be the other way around. Only, Solie couldn’t stop crying.

“It’s all right, my duck,” Iyala told her. “It’s all right.”

While the two women embraced, Nelson walked past them toward the bedroom. His face was white as chalk. Both Ril and Dillon watched, but neither objected when he went inside.

“Heyou?”

His stepbrother and favorite troublemaker was lying on the bed, his blue and gold uniform wrinkled and filthy. Nelson swallowed when he saw dried blood on the fabric but moved to stand beside him.

“Heyou?” he said again.

Heyou didn’t answer, his face buried in a pillow. Nelson wasn’t sure how he could even breathe that way.

“Come on, Heyou, I just lost my father. Don’t shut me out.”

Slowly, Heyou lifted the pillow. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Nelson sank down beside him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have been with him. I should have protected him.”

“You can’t be everywhere.”

Heyou closed his eyes. “I should have been.”

Nelson puffed out a breath. His heart hurt, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut. His father, the man who’d taken him in and given him a home and a chance at a better life, was gone. It was difficult to believe, to process that the man was dead, but seeing Heyou tear himself apart was hard confirmation.

His mother had been first to realize how devastated the battler would be. Nelson didn’t know how she could deal with her own grief over her husband and still think about Heyou, but she’d discussed it with him today. Heyou was family, she reminded him, and family was more important than anything. They had to look after him.

Nelson swallowed. “Heyou,” he said. “Um, Heyou, I came here to tell you I want to take my father’s place.”

The battler glanced up.

Nelson shrugged, embarrassed. “As your master, so you can eat. And, um, to keep you in the family.”

Heyou was staring at him now.

“I mean, Dad told us what it meant to be a master and how important it is not to take advantage. You know Dad never told you what to do.”

Heyou sat up slowly, leaning on one arm. “No. He kind of suggested real hard sometimes, though.”

Nelson grinned. “He always suggested real hard to me, too.”

Heyou grinned back. A moment later they both were pale-faced again, remembering Galway. Finally, Heyou looked at Nelson almost shyly.

“You
want
to be my master?”

Nelson nodded. “Mom and I talked it over. We don’t trust anyone but family to have you. Or Solie of course, but Dad always said you shouldn’t feed from her. So we decided on me, since I’m younger than Mom and everything.” He blushed. “Is that okay with you?”

Heyou thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Sure.”

In the doorway, Solie watched and sighed. She was glad that Nelson had made the offer. In some ways, Heyou had to share her with every other sylph in the hive. He loved her, she had no doubt about that, but having a master all to himself was something every sylph needed.

She turned back to the main room, giving the two a chance to talk. She’d be needed later to bind them, but for now she laid a hand over her belly and went back to join Iyala. Dillon sat by the window and watched.

“How is the baby doing?” Galway’s widow asked.

“All right.” Solie glanced at her. “Your son is going to be Heyou’s new master.”

Iyala smiled. “He’s a good boy. They both are.”

Solie put a hand on her arm. “Yes. They are. But . . . are you all right? Tell me there’s something I can do for you.”

“No.” Iyala shook her head. “We’ll all be all right.”

The woman smiled, but with Dillon there and projecting her emotions, Solie could feel her pain. She said, “I know you’ll be okay, but right now it’s hard.” She glanced at Dillon, who met her gaze with his golden wolf eyes. “We need another healer,” she said. That wouldn’t have saved Galway any more than having one would have helped Rachel, but still . . .

“We need a healer,” she repeated.

Dillon nodded in agreement.

We should leave this place.

Slowly, the nameless sylph lifted her head, her six eyes swirling open as she looked around. The fields were quiet while the suns went down, the place where she lay deserted or nearly so. A battle sylph from the hive drifted along the border between field and rock, searching out threats.

Shh,
she warned.

The hive battler drifted overhead, glaring down at her. Not quite hating her but not impressed either. He snorted as she pressed herself against the ground and then continued on his way.

I hate them,
her companion said.

She didn’t answer, though she supposed he had reason. He’d been thrown out of his own hive, his link to his queen broken before he was chased away by his brothers. He’d spent ages living on the outskirts of other hives, eating whatever he could scavenge while avoiding predators and enemy sylphs. His only hope was to get big enough and strong enough to attract a queen’s attention and be subsumed into her hive as a new mate. Until then, he hid and hated.

Slowly the nameless sylph shifted, moving along a row of plants and letting the exile free from where he’d hidden beneath her. He sighed and shook himself, his lightning flashing with repressed need. Where he’d touched her, she itched madly.

We should go,
he said again.

Go where?
she demanded, terrified at the very thought. This was her home, had always been her home, even if her hive mates did growl and recoil whenever she entered the hive now. No one would even let her heal them, and even this far away she could feel the queen’s displeasure. But the mountains and chasms beyond these fields were alien and evil.

Where in the world could we ever possibly go?

The council’s offices were located behind Solie’s throne room, all of them arrayed off a reception chamber with a single desk. Ril rather liked it. To get to any of the offices, a visitor had to pass the battler chamber, go through the throne room and, finally, get past him. In a way, this was all another layer of protection for the Valley’s important personages, though it took the form of paperwork.

The battler went through the week’s schedule, his face impassive. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the job. When Devon was doing it, he hadn’t paid much attention. Leon’s office was next to the queen’s, and if Ril wanted to see either Solie or his master, he’d just gone right on through. Devon hadn’t stopped him; he’d been far too terrified of battle sylphs to try and stop any of them. Now that Ril had the job, he didn’t let anyone through; not without a good reason. Not even battlers or Leon could just stroll in and pester the queen.

The blond battler smirked a bit. Still, Leon usually had a reason.

The door opened. Ril eyed it, even though he knew who was there. Given that he was a battle sylph, there was no one else on guard. Solie wasn’t in her office, anyway, though Leon was. The queen was at the summoning hall, helping again in the search for a new healer.

Lizzy entered, smiling at Ril as she crossed the room. He immediately shoved his paperwork to one side and leaned over the desk. She laughed softly and bent down, meeting him halfway with a soft kiss. Ril relaxed into it, his eyes closing as his lips moved against hers. Lizzy braced her elbows against the desk, her fingers twining through his hair. Time stopped, all of the battler’s attention focused on the woman before him.

“You two do realize this is a public place, right?”

Lizzy pulled back, blushing, and Ril glanced up at Leon, who was standing in the doorway to his office. He met his master’s gaze evenly. At first he’d been afraid Leon would order him away from Lizzy, but Leon had come to accept their relationship. Right now the man’s emotions were a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Um,” Lizzy said. “Hi, Daddy. I brought you lunch.” She lifted a basket she’d set by her feet.

Leon’s eyebrow rose. “Is there anything else you wanted?”

She shrugged and shot a quick look at Ril, who stayed silent. They’d talked over her ambitions the night before in bed. He liked her ideas, but it was up to her to convince her father.

Leon glanced over, picking up on Ril’s approval. “Well?” he asked his daughter.

Lizzy shrugged, rubbing her hand up one arm. “I just want to help out with all the things Uncle Galway used to do. I know you’re busy already, you and Ril . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“And you don’t want to spend your life knitting afghans and helping your mother cook dinner,” Leon added.

“No.” Lizzy grimaced. “I’m bored out of my mind. Fields and harvests and knitting and babysitting? I don’t like those. I want to deal with people. With
important
things.”

“So you’re looking to take over for Galway,” Leon said. Ril felt both the man’s interest and uncertainty. “He held a pretty important position. He handled all of the Valley’s economics.”

“I can learn to do that,” Lizzy said. “Uncle Galway did.”

“Galway was a lot older than you, sweetheart.”

“But he spent most of those years in the woods setting traps! He didn’t know a thing about economics when he started. Not really. And I’m good at math.”

“He knew a lot about trade. He knew about haggling, and about travel to other places. He knew that—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lizzy interrupted. She eyed Ril. “Help me here!”

It wasn’t quite an order, but Ril still eyed his first master. He had to obey both Leon and Lizzy, just as he had to obey the queen. But Leon’s orders would hold him more than Lizzy’s, which they both knew. It was a good thing that he only gave orders when he had to.

Ril sighed. “If she works here, I won’t have to go running back and forth all the time to make sure nobody’s trying to kill either of you.”

Lizzy giggled at that. Leon’s eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t think either of us is in danger of immediate assassination,” he pointed out.

“Two battle sylph masters have recently died,” Ril replied.

“That’s coincidence. Neither was murdered.”

“We don’t care,” Ril said.

Both Lizzy and Leon were quiet for a moment, absorbing that. He was surprised they hadn’t picked up on it already. Not that he gave a damn if they thought he was being silly. Two masters were dead and all his brothers were upset.
He
was upset. Every battler in the Valley was keeping his master as close as possible, and when they couldn’t, they were arranging for someone else to watch them. Hector had been watching Lizzy while Ril worked, but Ril would rather she was here.