Queen of the Sylphs (27 page)

“I will,” Ril promised. She hugged him again.

Cara pulled back from the door, sitting instead against the wall. Her arms went around her knees. She cried freely, but she was going to guard her father, too. No matter what.

“She’s back.”

Solie stopped at the entrance to the summoning hall as she heard Petr speak. The bald man approached her, his lips tight. Behind him, three women stood in the circle, clearly trying to tempt the healer on the other side.

“She hasn’t tried to come through?” Solie asked. Her feet ached horribly, and Heyou eyed her in concern. When Petr shook his head, she sagged. That would have been too simple by far. Life wasn’t so convenient. “At least she came back.”

“She hasn’t really left,” Petr corrected. “Ash thinks she’s curious. She can’t be sure, though. All she can tell is what kind of sylph is on the other side. She can’t get anything about attitudes. I’ve offered up a dozen options already. I’m starting to just grab people off the street.”

Solie sighed. What else could they do? Sylphs could be incredibly flaky about what attracted them. The battlers were the easiest to draw across, since all they wanted was sex. She was tempted to bring Leon here and hope his wounds drew this healer, but that was too dangerous. He was too injured to keep moving around, and he already had a sylph. The human soul couldn’t handle being stretched between different patterns. According to Petr, it
was
possible for masters to be bonded to more than one living sylph, but this would eventually drain the vitality out of them, leaving such humans pale echoes of themselves who often died young. Such a strain was the last thing Leon needed.

“Keep it up,” she told Petr. “If someone doesn’t have a sylph, walk them under the gate. Even children. There’s got to be someone she’ll like.” This wasn’t just for Leon. It was for everyone who needed help. And with a murderer still out there . . .

“Yes, ma’am,” Petr said with a bow.

Solie went back outside. There was no point in her being there, not until the healer came through, if she ever did.

It was quiet outside, people obviously wanting to come up and ask her what was going on but not wanting to brave Heyou, who stood close. She didn’t mind his protectiveness for once. She didn’t know what to say to anyone, and she was afraid. She was only weeks away from giving birth and her entire original council was gone. They’d stopped Justin, but was this someone else? Had Justin been implicated unfairly? Solie didn’t know.

She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to appear calm and relaxed as she went back to her office. Heyou guarded her the whole way. Other battlers floated overhead, some watching many masters at once, the rest guarding against overall threats to the Valley.

Who would be the next target?

The nameless sylph studied the swirling gate, floating above it and to one side just in case it did turn out to be dangerous. It had certainly lasted longer than any other gate she or her exiled battler had ever heard of. Her old hive was universally ignoring it, avoiding this section of the field, but to her it was interesting and the only thing left that slowed the horrendous itching inside her.

Her companion pressed against her, hating them being there and convinced that the gate was evil. It didn’t really seem like a trap, not with what the nameless sylph could sense on the other side. And the battler admitted he couldn’t see anything through the gate; not unless he was directly underneath it. Her own senses were stronger. There was a fire sylph there, watching from the other side, though the nameless sylph doubted the little one could sense much in return.

We should go.

Behind her, almost blanketing her, the battle sylph flickered out tendrils of black smoke to shield her back and most of her sides. He was getting more obvious with his attentions, which made sense as the itch grew and she started to realize what was happening. She was beginning to know why the queen had wanted her out of the hive. She didn’t blame the battler, either. She was his only real chance to be anything other than an exile.

She looked at the gate for a moment longer, wondering for the first time if she dared go through. She didn’t know for sure what was on the other side, but how much stranger could it be than her future right now?

On the other side of the gate, living creatures moved, presenting themselves directly below, where they were easier to sense. To go through the gate, the nameless sylph would have to pattern her energy to theirs,
become
theirs, for otherwise that world would reject her. They seemed to want her to, offering themselves. Among them, she could detect injury, illness . . . all too easy to fix. And all expected something from her, just as the hive had in the old days. The good days.

She glanced past the gate toward the wilderness beyond the fields. The itch would drive her out there eventually. She knew that now, knew it would change her into something she didn’t want to be. But going through the gate would only mean she’d be owned.

Slowly, the battler keeping his smaller form between her and the gate throughout, she turned and moved back toward where they’d been lying. She felt his discontent that they still weren’t leaving the fields, but what else could she do? Actually, she knew, and soon she would have no choice at all. But still . . .

She looked toward the gate and wondered.

With the Widow at the Petrule house, Gabralina had to keep the orphan children fed and quiet. Recognizing her as weaker than their usual guardian, and wound up by the rumors that even they had heard, they were running wild.

Nearly in tears, Gabralina stood in the center of the front room and shouted for them to behave, which they ignored. Wat stood beside her, staring at the chaos with similar confusion.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

Gabralina sighed. The Widow would be so disappointed if she came back to find the children tearing the house apart. “STOP IT NOW!” she shouted. “THE NEXT PERSON TO MISBEHAVE DOESN’T GET DINNER. NOW, GET INTO THE KITCHEN AND START SETTING THE TABLE!”

Grumbling, the children moved toward the kitchen. Gabralina sagged in relief.

Wat looked at her dubiously. “Does that include me?”

“Of course not.” She giggled, smiling and stepping close. Tenderly, she cupped his beautiful cheek.

He leaned down to press his mouth to hers and wrapped his arms around her body. Gabralina closed her eyes, losing herself in the few seconds they’d have together before the children started acting up again. She wound her arms around his neck and slipped her tongue into his mouth, enjoying all that he was.

Wat kissed her as thoroughly as he could, his hand rising to cup her breast. He wasn’t terribly bright when it came to most things, but he knew how to please his lover. For her, he’d do anything or be anything, just as he knew she would do for him. He lost himself in the embrace, unable to imagine any other battle sylph loving their master as much as he loved his.

The front wall behind Gabralina had a long, rectangular window, a sheer, flawless plate of glass made by an earth sylph. It was still daylight out, and when Wat opened his eyes, he saw Sala. Her pace was casual, her glance unremarkable. But when she spotted him in the living room, she swirled her hand by her side in a very specific gesture of command.

Wat’s eyes widened—he was shocked as always by the realization that she could compel him—and his hand tightened on his master’s breast. She gasped, rising up on her toes, and he crushed his mouth harder against hers, his hand moving lower.

The children were starting to shout and laugh in the kitchen, but the two lovers ignored them. Wat’s hand was moving, stroking, his other arm around Gabralina to hold her up. He had to, as her knees went weak. She kept her mouth latched against his, shuddering with pleasure until her entire body stiffened and quivered like a bowstring.

Wat drank in her gratification and sighed, finally lifting his mouth from hers. “I liked that,” he whispered.

“So did I.”

A crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by a flurry of giggles. Gabralina rested her forehead against Wat’s chest for a moment, then said, “I have to go.”

“Yeah.” He kissed the top of her head. “I have to go, too. I’ll be back later.”

She lifted her head to ask him his destination, but another crash sounded, accompanied by a scream. “Oh!” Standing on her toes, she kissed him quickly and smiled; then she ran out, yelling for the little devils to stop whatever they were doing or no one was getting any dessert.

Wat watched her go, smiling. She was so cute.

Still musing on how wonderful she was, he went out the front door, shifting to cloud form as he did. He rose up over the house and floated unnoticed across yards and fields, past stables and sheds, turning in a great circle and landing finally at an ordinary-sized hut only a short distance from the Widow’s. It was actually one of the stairwells into the hive, one rarely used and very private. Landing there, he moved around the back and dropped to one knee, his head bowed.

“I have an order for you, Wat,” said a voice.

Hating every moment, Claw flew across the square in the shape of an ordinary crow with his aura hidden so thoroughly that another sylph would have to get within a dozen feet to realize what he was. It wasn’t a comfortable way to be, and it restricted his senses to the point where he felt nearly blind, but he had no choice. Sala had been absolute in her instructions. He could
not
be caught.

She was as close to furious as he’d ever seen her, and secretly, Claw was delighted. She’d made a mistake, underestimated Leon, and in attacking him she’d undone all her efforts with Justin. She was back in the same position she’d faced after Blue saved Moreena, only now it was worse because Leon could wake up and name her as his attacker. So, she was desperate.

Claw landed on the branch of a tree growing over the cottage where Lizzy and Ril lived. There he bowed his head, thinking only of Rachel.
Rachel.
Sweet, dear Rachel, who held his sanity intact even now. Barely.

Leon was inside the main house at the front of the garden, undoubtedly guarded by Ril. Sala needed Ril out of that room, if only for a few minutes. It was up to Claw to provide them. At some point, Lizzy would have to come back to her cottage to change clothes, and it was then that Claw would hurt her. He was grateful for the small mercy that he was only to do her harm. But, her pain would still bring Ril outside and leave Leon undefended for Wat to go in through the window and kill him.

It would be an easy death, he supposed. A pillow over the face and everyone would think he’d died in his sleep. Died of his wounds. No mystery.

Glad it wasn’t him with that job, Claw waited and thought of Rachel.

It had been a long day. Sitting in a chair by the window, Lizzy was sleeping, her cheek resting against her fist and her elbow on the chair arm. It slipped off and she jerked awake.

Wiping some drool from her mouth, she glanced around. Shore and Swirl were still there watching her father. They kept his blood flowing and his lungs filling with air. He looked the same as before, his face a sickly gray.

Ril lay sprawled on the rug by her parents’ bed. It had been a hard day for him as well, and he was asleep. Downstairs, Lizzy heard one of her sisters shout and start to cry, and she knew her mother was down there taking care of them. She glanced out the window to see she’d slept even longer than she thought, and the light coming through the window was that of early morning. No wonder her mother was downstairs. It would be time for breakfast for the girls.

Lizzy stretched and stood up, feeling tired, hungry, and filthy, and she had a sore back on top of that. Quietly she walked over to the bed, stepping up to the side opposite where Ril was sleeping. Her father lay so pale and still. She put a hand against his cool cheek and looked at the sylphs who were helping him.

“Any change?” she asked.

The two eyed each other and shook their heads. Shore leaned forward to pat her hand. “He’ll be okay.” She sounded doubtful.

Lizzy smiled weakly. “I know.”

She needed a bath, and it felt like something had died in her mouth, so slowly she turned and left the room, glancing back at her father and her sleeping lover for one final moment. Going down the stairs, she followed the hall that led to the kitchen and to the back door. Her mother and sisters were sitting around the breakfast table, staring morosely at their porridge.

Betha lifted her head as Lizzy entered the room. The woman looked like she’d aged decades in the past few hours. Lizzy returned her mother’s regard, opened her mouth to say something, then decided she’d just start crying if she did. Instead she turned and went outside, heading across the dew-soaked lawn toward her cottage. A quick wash, change of clothes, and brushing of her teeth were very called for.

It was cold out, autumn changing steadily into winter. Her breath frosted the air and reminded her how cold it would be inside with no fire lit in the stove.

In the tree that hung over her cottage, a large crow shifted on its feet and launched itself forward, attacking her face with a scream of rage. Lizzy shrieked in response, throwing her arms up over her head. The bird flapped madly and hovered before her, pecking. Its sharp beak hurt, cutting through skin, and she screamed again, falling, then trying to scramble to her feet, but the crow continued its attack until she huddled against the ground in terror, her arms over her head to protect her eyes.

Ril’s eyes snapped open. Lizzy’s pain stabbed through him with the sharpness of a stiletto, causing raw panic, and he leaped to his feet and bolted out of the room, knocking the door halfway into the wall. Lizzy was screaming. But . . .

Don’t leave Dad.

Ril skidded to a halt, torn by two desires. Protect Lizzy. Protect Leon.

As it always must, the full command won out. He turned and bolted back into the bedroom, Lizzy’s cries still echoing through his soul. How could he ever endure?

Inside, he stopped. The window was open, Wat half in and half out. He held a pillow and was staring at the two elemental sylphs like he hadn’t expected them to be there. He looked at Ril and dropped the pillow.