Authors: L. J. McDonald
“It’s not my fault either,” Eapha reminded her. “I haven’t had control of any of this. I just fell into it.”
As a slave and concubine, she certainly hadn’t had any control. At least it hadn’t been Zalia who’d been given the queenhood. Zalia didn’t want to feel sympathetic toward Eapha though, even as she found herself liking the woman, now that she wasn’t lounging around with her friends waiting for the world to take care of itself. Zalia could see the intelligence in her eyes now, and with it, the fear. Given the attitudes of her erstwhile friends, suddenly Zalia could understand why she herself was sitting here.
“When I was brought here,” Zalia said slowly, “Devon was getting all of the men into the feeder pens. We’re pretty sure they’ll be safe there, providing the food holds out.”
Eapha’s eyes lit up at that. “Really?” She turned to Tooie, looking up at him. “How much food do we have?”
“Not enough for that many people, not with the crops destroyed by the storm.”
Eapha looked at him with despair. Zalia felt much the same way. Devon hadn’t given up though, frightened though he was. Eapha looked over the table, with its trays of food that was more than she could eat by herself, and suddenly reached across it, grabbing up a strip of smoked fish.
“There’s fish in the sea to eat, isn’t there?” she demanded.
“Yes,” Tooie said slowly, “but the Hunter could eat any fishermen sent out. They might not make it back.”
Eapha looked at him. “So send water sylphs. If they’re underwater they should be safe from it, shouldn’t they? They can drive the fish back here for battlers to catch.”
“But to get them there…”
“Dig a tunnel,” Eapha told him, her eyes bright with inspiration. “We have hundreds of earth sylphs with nothing to do. Dig a tunnel to the feeder pens as well. We’ll live underground until that thing starves.”
Tooie’s eyes gleamed, staring at his queen with his body stiff with pride and barely contained motion. He never would have thought of that, Zalia thought. She wouldn’t have either, would she? How could she? Only one woman could order all of the sylphs to action after all. Now all of the sylphs in the room stared at her, taut with excitement. Eapha seemed to draw strength from it, straightening in her chair with a flush on her face.
“That’s actually brilliant.”
Both of them turned toward the doorway. Kiala stood there dressed in a sleeping gown, her long hair braided down her back. She had a frown on her face, a line between her brows, as she regarded them both. Zalia tensed, but the other woman only seemed interested in getting a snack. She came over and gathered some of the cheeses and breads, not speaking as she studied her friend and shook her head. Eapha just watched her, tense and uncertain. “I didn’t think you were that smart, Eapha,” Kiala sniffed at last and left, taking her plate of cheese with her.
Both women watched her go, as did Tooie, his eyebrows raised. “Jealous woman,” he said at last.
Zalia sagged, glad to have avoided another fight. Beside her, Eapha sagged as well, obviously thinking the same thing.
Eapha dragged her hand through her hair. “In the morning,” she decided. “Tell everyone we’ll start in the morning.” She looked at the tray of food and sighed. “In the morning,” she said again and helped herself to a piece of marbled cheese, indicating that Zalia do so as well. Zalia did so, gratefully, and they sat in silence while the battle sylph watched, all of them thinking about the day ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
W
ord spread,
news traveling about the conversation between the two women and what was decided as a result.
Even though she wasn’t part of the hive, Airi heard what was going to happen from Shasha and spun excitedly in place. Half seen through a gap in his curtain, the battle sylph didn’t move due to his pain, other than to look out at them, but the rest of the sylphs rose up in excitement. Loyal to their masters or not, none of them had wanted to leave the hive and all the safety and comfort it brought.
Devon was asleep, curled up in his alcove, even as Gel was asleep in his own. Airi met Shasha’s eyes, which gleamed in the light of the few fire sylphs, and both of them went to relay the news. Airi didn’t know what Shasha was going to say to her damaged master, but she knew what she would say to hers.
Devon,
she called, blowing her gentle winds on him to ruffle his hair. He mumbled and pulled his thin blanket up higher over himself. It was still a bit cool underground, even with all the human bodies sleeping in the former harem.
Devon, wake up. I have the best news.
Devon started awake, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. It had been a long time since he’d had any really proper sleep, Airi thought guiltily, but he needed to know this. “Is Zalia back?” he slurred.
No. It’s almost as good as that. The queen has spoken. The hive is to dig a tunnel to us. We’ll all be reunited.
Devon took a moment to absorb that and sat up slowly, studying her. “Are you serious?”
Yes. Shasha says the head battler told them all. She even has a way for us to collect food without being exposed to the Hunter. We’ll be safe from it.
Devon gaped at her. “When did this happen?” He hadn’t formed a good opinion of the queen, Airi remembered, and she felt his disbelief. Uncertain, she sent a query to Shasha, who relayed it to her sisters in the hive and brought back an amused answer a few minutes later.
Zalia convinced her,
she said, surprised herself.
“Zalia?”
Airi ruffled his hair straight up and giggled, amazed at the story.
Apparently, she yelled at her. The queen listened.
Devon slumped back on his elbows, gaping at her with his mouth open. “She…” He threw back his head and laughed. “I guess I really didn’t need to come at all, did I?”
He was laughing, but Airi felt what was running through his heart.
You had to come,
she said slowly, wanting him to feel better about himself.
Zalia would never have been taken to the queen if not for you.
“She would have been taken,” Devon said bitterly. “That battler’s wanted her since before we met.”
Yes, but without you, she wouldn’t have known what to say.
She plucked at his shirt with her wind until he looked at her.
And most of these men would have died on the surface when the Hunter attacked the square in front of the hive.
Devon thought about it and exhaled loudly. “I guess so. Still, it doesn’t feel like I did anything. Hiding in the ground isn’t very glamorous. Better than dying though.”
Airi giggled. Devon had never seen himself as a hero. Despite his successes, he’d always felt he accomplished far less than he did.
Why are you supposed to do it yourself? We’ve always been a team, haven’t we?
She flicked his nose and he jerked his head up, but he was smiling.
“I guess we better start thinking about what to do next,” he said. “We have food here, but it still needs to be rationed, and we have a lot of people who have reason to be angry with the battlers. I doubt the battle sylphs are so keen on the queen’s change of heart either.” He shuddered at the reminder of battle sylphs, as did Airi. She extended her awareness toward the battler in the next alcove, but despite the excitement, he was asleep. He’d been hurt badly when he left. She didn’t know precisely why and didn’t want to. He’d been benign to them and he’d be able to go back to the hive and get healed once the tunnel connecting them opened up. She could hear Shasha discussing the logistics of it. A day it would take them, if all of the earth sylphs worked together. They sounded eager. Then Devon yawned and she turned her full attention back to him.
You need to sleep,
she told him.
You’re worn out.
“I know,” he mumbled, yawning again. “But there’s so much to get ready.”
It can wait. None of the humans know about this. The queen said nothing was to happen until morning. You can sleep, and then you’ll be able to do useful things.
“I guess you’re right,” he said, lying back on the cushions with only a little reluctance, his body already turning back to sleep.
And you’ll be able to see Zalia again!
Airi added happily. Immediately, Devon’s eyes shot open and his weariness burned away on a surge of adrenaline.
Oops,
she said, berating herself as she realized how far away sleep was from her master now.
Zalia and Eapha didn’t say much. Neither of them knew each other very well and both were tired. Instead, they sat together, nibbling at the food until the trays were empty, ignoring any future need to ration in a moment of camaraderie. For Zalia, it had been the best food she’d ever had in her life, though she never remembered how it tasted afterward.
Eventually, she’d gone back to the room where One-Eleven left her, and fell across her bed. She was asleep immediately.
She didn’t know how long she stayed that way, but she woke up to warmth and the feel of a bare shoulder under her cheek. Dazed and comfortable, she felt the smooth skin under her face while a hand tenderly stroked her hair, softly enough that it might not have been what woke her.
Her hand was across his stomach, just lax, and her toes brushed against his leg. She was warm and content and sleepy, but she knew this wasn’t Devon. Zalia sighed, not sure how to deal with this. She didn’t want to break anyone’s heart tonight. All she really wanted to do was get some sleep, in this wonderful bed with a full stomach for one of
the first times in her life. Tomorrow would be overwhelming with the work to get the men and women back together and she wasn’t going to be exempt from it. Eapha hadn’t said she was needed, but Zalia had the feeling the queen wanted another woman around who was on her side.
One-Eleven’s hand slowed, cupping the back of her head as he leaned over to press his lips against her forehead. Zalia kept her eyes mostly closed, barely able to see the curve of his chest in the darkness as she lay there. What had he done? she wondered. Would he honestly have come back and tried to act as though nothing was wrong if he’d killed Devon?
“I didn’t know when you’d be back,” she said at last, not able to keep silent. “You didn’t…hurt anyone did you?”
His hand resumed stroking her hair. “No.” Did his voice sound bitter?
Zalia opened her eyes and twisted her head around so that she could see his face. It was vaguely luminescent in the light of the moon coming through the window. “You said you had to think.”
“Yeah.” He breathed out, the motion of his chest dropping her down in the mattress and unintentionally closer to him. She didn’t feel shy about it; how could she, given what they’d done together? But she didn’t feel desire either. He was doing nothing to affect her feelings this time, and, she thought with amusement, having more success with her than he would have otherwise. He looked vulnerable for once, and real. “I really messed up getting you to love me.”
Zalia thought about that for a moment and sighed, rolling away from him and onto her back. He let her, his arm straightening out so that it was under her neck. She adjusted a bit and rested her head on it, staring up at the indistinct shadows of the ceiling. “You can’t make someone love you.”
“Yes, I understand that. I mean, Tooie told me, but I didn’t listen. Not until now.”
He looked at her and his expression was so hopeful her heart nearly broke. He was so beautiful, and so sincere, and so utterly, amorally dangerous.
“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly.
“Everything,” he whispered. “Just everything.”
She sat up and slid her legs over the side of the bed, sitting with her back to him and staring at her hands. “I can’t give you everything. I don’t know that I can give you anything.”
Zalia heard him sit up behind her, imagined him reaching out toward her, perhaps hesitantly. On some level, she might have felt powerful to have such control over him, if only she hadn’t been so miserable. She loved Devon, but when she was here with One-Eleven…she saw such
potential
between them, yet didn’t, and was afraid of all of it. If only she hadn’t met one of them—only she couldn’t believe that and didn’t want to. Both of them had changed her life so much. Devon’s gentleness, One-Eleven’s passion, Devon’s sweet lovemaking, One-Eleven’s control. She closed her eyes and his hand rested on her shoulder from behind.
“You don’t have to,” he promised her. “I was thinking…I’ll prove myself to you. I’ll be there for you. No matter what, I’ll be there. You’re first to me, before anything. I swear it. Nothing else matters, not even you loving me back.”
Zalia turned her head to look at him, her mouth opening for all the words she couldn’t say. She couldn’t think what to say, not at all. Language deserted her. One-Eleven just looked back at her, with his perfect, beautiful eyes she could lose herself in so easily and his flawless body that spoke to the woman inside her, the one that had so recently discovered such a desperate need to be touched. She could go to him now and the ecstasy would be more than any human man would ever be able to provide. He’d always be young and he’d always love her, and she would always be in control of him. She’d lose none of her freedom, not to a creature who had to obey her every whim. She’d always be wanted, no matter how she aged or who she became, and she’d always be safe, because he would kill to defend her.
She just wasn’t sure that was what she wanted.
What about having children? She’d never really let herself think about them, but it was there. Devon had told her when he described his life that he’d been used by a battler to father a child for the creature’s lover, and then told to leave. She could have a child the same way with One-Eleven, but did she want that? Did she want her children to have a battle sylph as a father? Did she even want to think about such things right now? She knew she didn’t, not with everything that was to happen in the morning. Already it was horribly late and she was too tired for philosophical thought or even the desires of her own heart.
“I need to sleep,” she said at last and lay again on the bed, her back to him. One-Eleven didn’t leave; she suspected he wouldn’t unless she directly ordered him to, and there was no compunction yet between them for him to obey. He might not. She didn’t really care anyway. She just closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds, even though she’d thought she’d be awake a long time yet.
One-Eleven lay beside her, not needing to sleep though he was weaker than he liked, the masters he’d thrown aside for her not available for him to feed on anymore. He’d be all right until she changed her mind, as long as he didn’t stress himself too much. He hoped she changed her mind. She had to, or else he’d go mad.
The battle sylph stroked her hair gently with his hand, careful not to wake her. Awake, she was filled with doubts and conflicting desires that tried to pull her away from him. Asleep, he could pretend she was his the way he wanted her to be, and take whatever comfort from that he could. It wasn’t much, but it had to be enough. He was what he was. He loved her and would always love her, and nothing would change that. Instinct was too strong and always would be.
One-Eleven sighed and settled down to share her rest, if not her dreams, while invisible wisps as thin as a woman’s hair drifted up across the closed windows all around them.