The Sylph Hunter (26 page)

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Authors: L. J. McDonald

BOOK: The Sylph Hunter
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Reaching the entrance to the pens, Devon pushed the door open and waved the others through. Most of them looked exhausted to the point they couldn’t have gone any farther and he was glad they didn’t have to. Shading his eyes and looking out over the square, he tried to spot the Hunter, but either the creature was somewhere else or he wasn’t seeing it again.

The others were inside and Airi tugged at his hair, whimpering for him to come inside where it was safe. Devon did so, letting the door shut behind him. It was a good two inches thick, made out of well-balanced, sylph-shaped stone, but it wouldn’t keep the Hunter out. Not when the hive walls were ten feet thick. Frowning, Devon looked at the stairwell that led downward into darkness. It was a little intimidating, but not nearly so much as thinking about what wandered around outside. Gel was on the stairs, leaning heavily on Shasha as she helped him down the steps. The man looked to be in shock again. Devon didn’t blame him; he felt rather like he was in shock himself.

“Shasha?” he asked. The slim earth sylph looked up at him, her eyes expressionless. Devon tried not to wonder if she regretted leaving the safety of her hive now. Could she go back, or was she considered an outcast for leaving the way she did? To be treated like an outsider the way Airi was? Devon couldn’t see that as something any sylph could feel easy with, and he hoped she wouldn’t resent Gel for it. He doubted it; from what he’d seen of sylphs, their love was immediate and without reservation. It was only odd that more of them hadn’t deserted the safety of the hive to reunite themselves with their male masters. Perhaps not all of them had a bond strong enough to make a sylph abandon their hive and queen and even their own chance of survival in order to be with their master.

He’d never asked Airi if she felt that strongly for him.

Isn’t it obvious?
Airi whispered into his mind.

Shasha looked between them for a moment, her eyes impassive as she sensed whatever it was she did between them. “Yes?” she rumbled after a moment.

Devon shook himself, one hand up into Airi’s breeze. “Um, yes. Can you seal this entrance? Make it so we can get in and out if we have to, but the Hunter can’t?”

Shasha’s lips turned downward in a deliberate frown as she studied the door behind Devon, and the stone wall it sat in. “I’ll think about it,” she said at last.

“Thanks,” Devon told her as she turned to her master again. “Wait.” She looked at him again. “Can you get a message to your hive?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “We were next to nothing and we left. Now we are nothing. They’ll ignore anything we have to say.”

Devon sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
Next to nothing?
he asked Airi.

She swirled against his neck, playing with his hair again. It was a sure sign she was starting to feel safe again.
All of us except for the queen are expendable, but
elementals are less important than healers and battlers in a hive,
she admitted.
We’re just tools to keep the hive going. I like Solie for not being like that. She loves all of us.

“Oh,” Devon said. He hadn’t realized that before. No wonder the elemental sylphs never had a problem with being bound to humans when they came through the gate. They’d all been slaves on the other side of it anyway.

They went down the long, twisting stairway, Devon’s tension easing as the stone closed around them. They were safe down here, even if that safety was an illusion.

He’d have to see if the sylphs could repair the walkways and cages that the feeders used to live in. He certainly didn’t intend for men to live in cages; but remade into something a little more humane, they’d provide more than enough room for everyone. Then it was just a matter of finding enough food and water to keep them alive. He didn’t know how long they’d have to stay down here, but it would be a smart idea to plan for it to be a while. Airi said the Hunter would move on eventually, but he couldn’t even wonder when that would be, or what other cities it would destroy when it did. How was he to even start to warn everyone?

They reached the bottom of the stairs, letting out into the corridor they’d been in before, only this time it was full of boys running excitedly, their fathers yelling for them not to go into the section with the broken feeder pens or else they’d break their fool necks. Most of the men seemed to have gone in the other direction, which was a way Devon hadn’t seen, and they followed, making their way through a tight crowd of muttering men who nodded as they passed, many of them even stepping out of his way.

They know who led them here,
Airi whispered to him and Devon found himself taking a deep, invigorating breath.

The hallway led into a series of guardrooms, men already claiming spots for their own or taking over small offices and sleeping rooms. Double doors lay broken ahead of them, and Devon walked into what he saw immediately was going to be the most popular living area in this place.

The double doors led into a massive, long room filled with cushions and curtain-covered alcoves. It looked opulent and comfortable, though he had to edge around a massive bloodstain right before the doors. The men were spreading out, claiming the little alcoves when they could. There was some arguing, but no fighting yet.

“This is a wonderful place,” Xehm said, his eyes wide. “What is it for?”

Devon looked around at the scattered cushions. The whole place was done up in jewel tones and he could smell a faint scent of incense, even now. “I bet it’s the concubine chambers.” Xehm looked vaguely horrified, but Devon started forward, hoping to find an alcove that hadn’t been taken. “It’s better than a cage.”

As they moved along, Gel walking at Shasha’s side and looking much more comfortable in a room that likely didn’t remind him of feeder pens, someone ran up. Devon barely recognized him as one of the men who’d first agreed to come to the pens. The man had brought a plethora of tools and useful items, more than anyone else managed, and he’d carried them all on his back. He’d even brought a pair of goats that the battlers somehow managed to miss.

“Come and see,” he said excitedly, grabbing Devon’s arm. “You won’t believe it.”

Devon looked at the others for a moment and then followed at the man’s urging. Only Xehm looked interested enough to follow, though the old man didn’t move so quickly and Devon had to slow down several times so he could keep up. He was tired himself and really wanted to find a place to lie down and rest for a while. That wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon. Whether he wanted it or not, he had to be in charge, and right now, it was even more important that he
look
to be in charge. It was one of the lessons Leon had taught him back in the Valley, though Devon was a little amazed at how many of those lessons he actually remembered.

The man led him back out of the harem, excusing their way through the crowd until they reached a side corridor beyond the guardrooms that would have been easy to overlook. It seemed most people had, since it was empty when they went down it, coming to a door that was closed by way of a bar that swung down into a few outward jutting slots. The man, who Devon now remembered was named Blithori, swung the bar up and pulled the door open. Three steps led down into a room that was filled with shadows until Blithori lifted up a lantern he’d brought and lit it.

The chamber on the far side of the door was immense, almost as big as the harem, and filled with shelving. On the shelves, neatly stacked, were dried foodstuffs, from fish to grain to fruit and cheeses. Devon gaped at it, making a strangled sound.

Blithori grinned at him. “I guess they had to keep the food for the concubines somewhere.”

And the battle sylphs hadn’t known. Devon heard Xehm come up behind them and yelp in surprise even as Devon clapped a hand on Blithori’s shoulder, grinning. “Good work, man. Really good work.”

It looked as though they had a chance to survive this after all.

CHAPTER TWENTY

E
apha stood on the balcony outside her private chambers and looked down at the hive below. The sky was clear, the sandstorm long gone, but the height she was at gave a strange perspective she wasn’t used to and there seemed to be a hazy miasma between her and the hive, something bulbous and almost textured, though she could see through it easily.

She just looked down at the hive, her fist tucked under her chin as she leaned on her elbow on the stone railing. It hurt a bit, but she didn’t care.

Zalia was right about her. Wasn’t she? Even after having agreed with the woman, even after having been screamed at about all the things she’d been thinking but never acted on, Eapha doubted herself. Kiala thought she was being stupid; if anyone was going to ruin the city, it would be an ex-concubine who’d lived in slavery since she was five. Besides, the city owed them nothing. Why would she want to help people who’d maintained the status quo that had kept her and all her friends in chains? That was Kiala’s argument, the same as the rest of them. Eapha should be
ashamed
to think she should do anything.

Zalia disagreed, the same as Devon and definitely Leon. Devon and Leon certainly hadn’t had anything to do with her being a slave and she could tell that Zalia hadn’t either. The people who’d maintained Kiala’s so hated status quo were all dead now and those left behind were just trying to stay alive themselves.

She’d thought she could just ignore any responsibility and let the sylphs be in charge.

“It’s never worked that way.”

Eapha turned, seeing Tooie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame while he studied her, his face solemn.

“Can you read my mind now?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I just know how you think, and I’ve heard all the arguments the rest of the women have been making.”

She turned around, leaning back against the railing. Both of them were trying so hard to look casual, though she felt anything but. Everything was tight inside of her and she could feel the tension in him. “You never said anything.”

He shrugged. “It’s not my place.”

Eapha stared at him. “But…you’re in charge.”

He shook his head, his lip twisting. “No, I’m not. I’m lead battler, yes, but only as an extension of your authority. Without your support, I’m nothing. The queen is in charge. That’s you.”

“But I gave it up to you.”

“Queens can’t do that.” He sighed and looked at his arm against the stone above his head. Grimacing, he lightly slammed his fist against it a few times. “I thought it could work, but…we don’t…think that much. We just follow instincts. We don’t think about what’s best. I’ve tried, but I can’t see it. That’s what the queen is for.”

Eapha felt her mouth go dry, remembering again Zalia screaming at her about what was happening on the surface. She never would have ordered that, would she? She’d thought it was an exaggeration—certainly Kiala had come to her afterward and told her it had to be—but Tooie was telling her it wasn’t.

“You threw all the men out of the hive?” she asked. His expression was evidence enough. Her lip quivered. “All of them?” How exactly did he define
men
?

Tooie nodded, shifting a little uncomfortably. “The only males in the hive are battle sylphs.”

He threw out the
babies
? The little children? She stared down at the hive again. The day before, there had been men gathered in the square before it. Now she could see through the miasma that the square was deserted. How many men had been trying to get back to their women? How many children wanted their mothers? How many needed their mothers’ milk? Eapha suddenly felt ill and saw Tooie’s recognition of it in how his chin jerked up, his eyes tightening.

“Why did you throw the men out?” Eapha asked him, afraid of the answer.

“Because men aren’t part of the hive. They’re other than us. They have no place here.”

Eapha closed her eyes. That’s what the people she hadn’t wanted to listen to had been trying to tell her. Even Tooie had. Sylphs didn’t think as human beings did.

“What,” she asked him softly, “were you planning to do to ensure future generations of women without having any men around?”

He had no answer for her, she could see that. Eapha managed a laugh that was almost a sob and walked over to him, her arms outspread. Tooie pushed away from the wall to meet her and she hugged him, her face buried against his chest while his arms went around her.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she whimpered.

He sighed. “Because you didn’t want me to. Because you’re the queen. You can do whatever you want.”

“Including being a bad queen.” She sniffled and pushed away from him, looking up at his face with a fear that she hadn’t felt when she was first told she’d be queen. “I don’t know that I can be a good queen,” she admitted. “I might be really bad at it.”

He smiled. “Maybe. I’ll help.”

Of course he would, but much as she loved him, she could see his limitations. Humans had them as well, but she had to hope she could get by her own, and find help. Leon did send that help, she reminded herself. Devon Chole must know something about how she could do this or Leon wouldn’t have sent him.

“Kiala and the others are going to nag me terribly about this,” she mourned instead.

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “You want them to stop? They will.” She didn’t ask how. Battlers had to obey their masters, but they had their own influences as well. She just wished a bit that Tooie used some of them before things got this bad, though that was only her blaming him for her own failure and she felt guilty to even think it. Now she had to figure out what to do on her own. Too much had gone wrong while she hid up here.

“Have you had any luck with the Hunter yet?” she asked.

“None.”

“What do you do back where you came from?”

He shrugged, his face a grimace. “Usually wait it out. They leave eventually if there’s nothing to eat.”

They could do that, providing none of them ran out of food first. But how were they supposed to feed so many people? How was she supposed to round up the men and get them to safety while the Hunter was killing everyone? Eapha looked toward the edge of the balcony again, too far back to see the hive from where she stood but able to notice that the miasma she’d been looking at before had risen, now shimmering at the edge of the balcony. Lines like wisps in her vision shimmered above it, waving in the air.

“We have to start with the Hunter,” she decided, wishing she didn’t still feel so uncertain. Until it was gone though, nothing she tried to do would matter.

Tooie smiled and led her inside, closing the doors behind them to keep the dust out.

One-Eleven didn’t know what to think anymore.

He’d gone after Zalia, rescued her from what surely would have been certain death and brought her straight to the queen to become his master. He’d have been able to keep her safe all of the time then, and love her as she deserved. It had been the most important thing in the world, only she slapped the queen and yelled at her and everyone was upset. Yahe was bellowing along the hive line, wanting to know what had his Kiala so infuriated.

One-Eleven couldn’t answer him. He’d seen it, but he honestly didn’t understand. Not this. Everything was going so well. They were organized and working together. The queen didn’t have to bother with anything and One-Eleven’s suggestions had merit. Sylphs
listened
to him. Only now the woman he loved most yelled at the queen for an idea
he’d
given. One-Eleven still didn’t get what the problem with throwing out the men was. There was only so much food and it was vitally important to keep the females safe, everyone knew that.

He didn’t want to try and explain that just now, since he doubted Zalia would be willing to listen. She was pacing around the room he’d brought her to, chewing on her nails and staring wildly around. Her emotions were a mess, angry and embarrassed and worried all at once. It didn’t feel nice at all, not like the calm he’d sensed when he first saw her, bathing behind the stable in the predawn darkness.

He really wanted to regain that level of comfort with her, and banish her obvious distress. He focused, letting the lust he felt spread outward, blanketing her with the need he knew they both shared.

Zalia stopped and jerked her head around to look at him over her shoulder. “Don’t do that!”

One-Eleven lost his focus and flinched, not liking the look in her eyes. “But I want you to be happy.”

She stared at him for a moment, tense and rigid, and then exhaled loudly and slumped. “Don’t do that,” she repeated, more softly this time.

She looked away as he walked over and gently put his hands on her shoulders. “Why?” he whispered. “Don’t you want to be happy too?”

“I was happy,” he thought he heard her say. She stepped away, pulling free of him. It hurt. “I don’t want you to force me to feel.”

He really should have listened to Tooie, One-Eleven thought. Tooie had said to talk to her, get to know her. But oh no, he hadn’t listened. He’d just gone for what he wanted and now he could feel the resentment in Zalia, resentment he had the sudden terror she’d been feeling the entire time, only hidden beneath the desire he’d given her.

None of this was happening the way it was supposed to.
Tooie!
he shouted in his mind, desperate for someone to tell him what to do, what he could say that would make everything better.
She hates me!

Who hates you?
Tooie responded, sounding distracted.

Zalia! She doesn’t want me to make her feel happy!

Tooie snorted, already withdrawing his attention.
So don’t do that. Talk to the woman.

About what?

I don’t know. About whatever she’s interested in. Promise her the world. Think of something.

One-Eleven stared at Zalia, his hands twitching by his side with nervousness. She looked back at him, her hands crossed before her breasts, holding her opposing arms while she stood hunched forward slightly, closed in on herself. She felt stressed and afraid.

Much as he hated it, One-Eleven looked closer, actually examining the emotions of the woman before him. They were more complex than he would have expected, certainly more complex than anything he suspected he could feel himself. She was anxious and scared, worried and a bit angry. She had a desire to go somewhere and do something and felt a touch of embarrassment over her explosion at the queen earlier.

She liked him.

One-Eleven grabbed on to that, as fast and as hard as he could. She liked him, deep down where it wasn’t being articulated. She genuinely did, or he suspected, with his newfound understanding, that he never would have been able to sleep with her. She didn’t even regret that, not really. He felt in her instead a bit of uncertainty about it, as well as a strange, deeply buried sort of relief that it was over with. He’d somehow set her free, even if he wasn’t quite sure how.

But she liked him. One-Eleven took a deep breath, his entire chest expanding, and let it out in a loud exhalation. Zalia studied him suspiciously and he smiled, lacing his hands behind his back. That made her more comfortable, he realized. It meant he wasn’t about to grab her. He resolved not to, at least not until she wanted him again.

“Can we start over?” he asked. She blinked. He rose up onto his toes for a moment and dropped down again. “My name is One-Eleven. It’s more of a designation than a name, but I haven’t come up with one for myself yet. A real name, that is.”

She shifted, her arms relaxing their tight grip a bit as some of the tension he felt in her eased into curiosity. “What do you mean? Why haven’t you?”

He rocked onto his toes again, liking how her eyes tracked his movement. “I’m not really good at that. And I hoped that my master would come up with a name for me.” Her eyes widened with a return to nervousness and he scratched his cheek, wanting to get her back to that calm again. Much as he hated it, she didn’t want to think of herself as being his master right now. No one asked her if she wanted to be, he remembered her yelling. Well, right now did
not
strike him as a good time to start; even if it was the only thing his heart could see as mattering.

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