The Battle Sylph (13 page)

Discreetly, the old man shook his head. “No. The man with the battler asked me questions, but he went back to the castle.”

Airi shivered with both happiness and grief. The battler had to be dead after all, if they’d given up. Still, that meant Devon wasn’t in danger. Airi felt sorry for Solie, though.

What of Solie’s aunt and father?

“Safe, both of them.” Donal looked uncomfortable at having to speak with her.

Thank you,
she said, but Devon’s father waved his hand, obviously not wanting any more attention. Airi rose up, heading back toward her master and content that she could tell him they all were safe. He and Solie couldn’t go home, she didn’t doubt that, but no one would be searching for them. They could go to the Community after all.

She flew back, fighting the air currents this time, but she was in no rush, and Devon wasn’t so far away—not the way she could move. She danced as she returned to him, twisting as she went to her memory of his music.

Sometime before dawn, Leon went quietly down the stairs of his house, his gear thrown over his shoulder. Betha followed, carrying a lamp. She’d been pleased to see him, and he knew she was disappointed that he was leaving again so soon, but there was nothing to be done and she knew that.

He let her walk him to the door and set his gear down while a servant hurried out to saddle his horse.

“Come home soon,” Betha told him. “We miss you.”

“Soon as I can,” he replied, kissing her softly, and took the lamp. “I have to get Ril.”

Leaving her, he went quietly up the stairs to the nursery. All four girls were asleep in their beds, their breathing soft in the large room. Leon held the lamp down low and made his way to his eldest daughter’s bed. She was curled asleep on her side, Ril nesting on the pillow beside her head. The battler wasn’t asleep. He looked up at Leon and his eyes glowed.

“Come on,” Leon whispered, lowering his fist. “Don’t wake her.” Silently, the bird edged himself up and onto his arm. Lifting him, Leon crept out of the room, his girls never stirring.

He took Ril downstairs and outside to where Betha stood next to his horse. Their servant held the gray’s reins, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Leon’s gear had all been tied behind the saddle.

“Thanks,” he told the servant, and kissed his wife again.
Finally he mounted and guided the horse out through the gate, sending it trotting toward the castle.

It was only a five-minute ride, and when he entered the courtyard, he wasn’t terribly surprised to see no sign of Jasar or Mace. “Great,” he muttered. Turning his horse in a large circle, he waited, but there was no sign of the man. “Ril. Go wake His Lordship up.”

Ril looked at him for a moment, then grudgingly spread his wings and flew up to the second floor of one of the towers. Leon suspected he was tracking Mace. At last the bird settled on a windowsill and shrieked into the room so loudly that Leon suspected they could hear it all the way back at his manor. He prayed the screech hadn’t woken the king. A moment later, he hoped it hadn’t woken Lizzy and the girls, especially not the baby. Betha didn’t need to deal with that.

Ril had definitely woken someone. The battler leaped off the windowsill, barely flying out of the way of a large, mailed fist that shot out at him. Leon hid a smile. Mace wouldn’t have attacked without a direct order. At least Jasar was awake now.

Ten minutes later, a servant in livery came out, sniffing imperiously as he walked over and bowed. “Lord Jasar Doliard of Sialmeadow sends his regrets, but he will not be able to join you for several more hours. He needs his morning constitutional.”

Leon leaned down from his horse. “Tell Lord Jasar that if he isn’t out here in five minutes, I’ll send Ril to bring me back his balls. The rest of him can stay behind.”

On his shoulder, Ril made a cackling sound. The servant blanched and bowed before hurrying off.

It took another ten minutes before Jasar appeared in a dressing robe, Mace following along behind, and the courtier was livid when he did. Accompanied by the loathing of their battlers, the two men glared at each other.

“How dare you!” Jasar snarled. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know exactly who you are,” Leon snapped. “Now get your gear or mount your horse dressed like that. I don’t care which.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I’m ready!”

“You want that battler to get away?” Leon shouted. “You want to explain that to the king? Get your gear!”

Jasar was livid, his face red and splotchy. Leon had made his point, though, and the other man turned, screaming obscenities to a servant and ordering him to get his horse and supplies. He stormed off to get dressed, Mace following.

He didn’t reappear for another hour, and by then Leon was nearly in a rage. The sun was well above the horizon, and at this rate they wouldn’t find the trail anytime in the near future. To make it worse, Jasar was decked out in an entirely inappropriate outfit of lace and velvet, with high boots and an ornate cloak that wouldn’t keep him warm at all when wet.

The courtier glared at Leon and mounted his horse, a delicate mare that didn’t look to have any stamina. Mace, under his direction, took up the lead tether of a second horse piled high with supplies. Leon had never seen such a thing, but he also didn’t care. Turning his gray, he rode forward, leaving Jasar to follow, which happened with a lot of cursing. Apparently the man thought he was supposed to be in charge. Leon had no intention of putting up with that, not after that farce with the pirates.

They rode out of the city, heading for the village where Ril had fought the rogue battler; Leon hoped to find the sylph’s trail where he’d lost it at the river. But they’d only ridden for twenty minutes before Jasar called the first break.

“Are you insane?” Leon thundered. “We just started!”

“I’m tired!” Jasar snapped back. “And this saddle is hard!”

“Are you a man or a woman?” Leon shouted. “We are
not
stopping now!”

“You don’t command me, commoner!”

Leon raised his arm, furious. “Ril!” The battler spread his wings, hissing.

“M-Mace!” Jasar stammered, yanking uselessly on his horse’s reins. The massive sylph stepped before him, eyes on Leon.

“Do you really want to find out who has the stronger battler?” Leon asked, disgusted. “And do you want to find out what I’ll do to you while they’re testing each other out? You will stop whining and follow me. I may be stuck with you, but I won’t let you screw up my mission. Is that clear,
my lord
?”

Jasar stared at him, his bottom lip trembling. He finally turned away. “Fine. You’re the supposed expert.”

“Good.” Leon spun his horse and kept riding.

Jasar wouldn’t have ordered Mace to attack. Not while there was the slightest chance he’d lose. Leon looked at his battler, though, his order to Ril unspoken but clear: watch them.

The bird glared in return, but his hate faded for a moment in agreement. Turning on Leon’s shoulder, he perched staring back, never blinking. Jasar started whining about it soon after, but Leon didn’t reply.

They arrived at Otalo close to noon. Leon saw the old man he’d questioned and the girl’s aunt, both outside the bakery and staring at them in horror, but he didn’t bother to speak to either; he had the information he needed from them. Leading the courtier and accompanied by the two battlers, he rode quickly through the suddenly silent town and up into the woods. At the edge of the cliff above the river he dismounted, staring around at the place where he’d lost the battler.

Damn. The trail was easy to find. The battler had been hiding in a crevice just below the edge of the cliff, and he’d left plenty of signs as he climbed back up. The sylph’s tracks now led north, with no attempt to hide them.

“I have his trail,” he announced, grinding his teeth. As he rose and returned to his horse, he thought briefly of sending Ril ahead, but he wasn’t sure just what his own sylph would find of the other battler.

“Wonderful,” Jasar said, astride his horse and staring at nothing, a handkerchief held to his nose as though he smelled something rotten. Leon rolled his eyes and remounted. With luck, they’d find the battler quickly and get this over with. Then he could get rid of this deadweight.

He put his heels to his horse and rode slowly into the woods, leaning over his saddle and staring close at the ground in order to read the fugitive’s tracks. Jasar sighed and followed, Mace trailing behind with the packhorse.

Galway came out of the mercantile with a heavy pouch of coins, his furs having fetched a good price, and found that his new companion had taken off. Eyebrows raised, he looked up from where his two horses were still tethered, along the road that led to the fork to Para Dubh and the Shale Plains. The boy had been vociferous that they waste no time in town, but surely he hadn’t started walking again, had he? Galway had planned to get him some shoes and a cloak, and to have the doctor look at him. The boy hadn’t looked injured, but it was obvious he was sick. Was he stupid, too?

Apparently he was, the trapper mused as he untied his horses and mounted up. He couldn’t let the boy make his own decisions, not in this apparently senseless frame of mind. The boy reminded Galway all too much of himself when he was young, full of attitude and idiocy. He needed
someone older than him to bash him on the head and save him from himself. Galway was lucky enough to have had someone do that for him, and he’d always intended to return the favor.

Amused by how the young were always so determined everything should happen
now
, he turned his horse and sent it at an easy trot northward, the packhorse trailing along behind. He had a full pouch of money, and his traps were all checked. He had some free time. He’d originally planned to head home and see the wife and family, but they were used to him being gone. He could do a little mentoring, maybe come home with another kid for his wife to raise. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The boy had gone farther than Galway expected, slogging along the road with bare feet and in a thin tunic, leaning heavily on his makeshift staff. He was already past the fork that would lead around the Shale Plains to Para Dubh. Thank the gods. Only fools went through the plains themselves.

Galway saw the kid’s shoulders stiffen stubbornly as he rode up behind, and he slowed his horse to a walk beside him, looking ahead. There wasn’t much to see, only scrub trees and rocks. The clouds overhead were heavy, the air cold enough to threaten snow.

“Nice day,” he commented, resting one hand on his leg while he held the reins with the other.

Heyou ignored him, glaring straight ahead as he walked.

“Looks like it might snow, though,” Galway continued. “Get right cold tonight. The plains are especially bad with all that arctic air coming down through the mountains. You thought of that? What with the bare feet and all?”

Heyou’s lip twisted, and the boy glared at him with almost as much loathing as Galway had seen from his sixteen-year-old son. “Go away!” he snapped. “Or I’ll kill you!”

“With what?” the trapper asked reasonably. “That stick? I think it’d need to be thicker.”

“Don’t you know what I am?” Heyou growled. He looked to Galway as though he was about to cry. “I’m dangerous! Go away! I don’t want your help!”

“Well, you might say you don’t need my help, but I think you do, and I’m used to danger. How about I give you a ride, since we seem to be going in the same direction?”

Heyou trembled, trying to speed his walk, though he clearly didn’t have the energy to keep it up. Galway maintained the pace easily, waiting for the boy to wear himself out. He doubted it would take long. The kid was a mass of anger and emotions all spinning out of control. He’d crash soon.

“Get lost,” Heyou told him venomously. “Die horribly, you bastard! Don’t you get it? I don’t want you near me! I hate you!” He stumbled, barely catching himself with his staff. His face was now more white than red.

Galway had seen enough. “Well, I don’t hate you.” Edging his horse closer, he reached down and grabbed the boy’s arm, pulling him bodily up onto the saddle and wrapping his cloak around him. Heyou shuddered, trying to punch him, but Galway held him close enough that the kid couldn’t get leverage.

“Why do you have to be so damn nice?” Heyou sobbed, giving in at last.

“Because you’ll die if I leave you out here, and not everyone in the world is an asshole.” He couldn’t take the kid back home yet, not if he was going to get through to him. The boy wanted to go north, so for now he’d go north. Iyala would understand.

Galway kneed his horse into a canter, just to show Heyou they could move faster if he stopped fighting, and the boy finally sagged against him. It was probably just exhaustion,
but that was a start. They cantered north, and the miles slid away behind them. Where they were going didn’t matter, not yet. Just that Galway was willing to take him where he wanted would have to be enough. There wasn’t anything in the Shale Plains, after all.

He was very surprised when he was proven wrong.

Twenty miles beyond the town where they’d met Cal, the forest ended and the ground started to slope, the path heading downward toward a plain formed of rock and shale, dotted by tiny lakes. Great mountains loomed in the far distance, covered by snow. Solie reclined on the wagon seat between Devon and Cal, staring. The horizon looked desolate and cold, lifeless. It was no wonder the king didn’t bother with this land. It didn’t seem as though anyone could survive here.

Ahead the road dipped, descending but not looking any better than it had through the woods. In fact, the path looked as though it disappeared completely somewhere on that plain, no one having bothered to push it any farther.

The wagon was heavy and the horses old, but with the help of the sylphs, they would likely be able to cover another ten miles before dark. Solie looked up at the clouds and hoped it wouldn’t snow. It was cold enough as it was, and she dreaded the wagon’s getting stuck.

“How long will it take us to get to the Community?” she asked.

“About four days, if we make good time,” Cal answered. “We used to have a town built in a valley northeast of here. We’d worked the land enough that it was fertile again, and we had crops coming in. Pretty good place. Where it was, the valley walls blocked the wind. There were some really old paintings on some of the rocks there, too. We don’t know who did them, but they’re ancient. Horses and deer and stuff.”

“Where are your people now?” Devon asked.

“Oh, sorry.” Cal shook his head, recalling himself. “The message said they were at the bluff. It’s this cliff with one side that’s really sheer. Some of us think it was made to be that way, but no one’s really sure why. No one can get to you from the front without sylphs, and the other side slopes down enough that you can drive a cart up. Kind of steep, and there’s no water source for a couple of miles, but it’s more defensible. I guess they’re kind of thinking that way right now. You can see for absolute miles from the top. They’ll know we’re coming long before we get there.”

Solie sighed, wondering what it would be like when they arrived, or if the Community had already moved on. She supposed they’d send another message if they did…?

She rubbed her temples. Her head was aching, and her heart, since she couldn’t stop thinking about Heyou. Even sillier, she kept looking behind her as though he was about to come charging out of the woods in pursuit. She looked back again, just to see, and Devon put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked, in an undertone so Cal couldn’t hear.

“I…can’t stop thinking about Heyou,” she confessed. “I barely knew him, but it hurts.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her shoulder. “They say when you lose a sylph, or they’re taken away…I’m sorry, Solie.”

She bit her lip. “Does it get better?”

“My father said it did, after he gave Airi to me. Eventually.”

She looked away again, not wanting to talk about it. At least Devon and Airi were safe and they knew no one was following them. They all could go to the Community and make new lives.

Maybe they had a postal service there and she could get Devon to write a letter to her aunt, explaining everything.
More likely she’d have to borrow Airi to carry it. Solie sat quietly, trying to think of what she’d write, but she couldn’t get past explaining Heyou. Biting her lip, she stared at her hands, finding it easier not to think of anything at all.

Galway cantered his horse easily along the road out of the forest and onto the slope leading down to the plain. What he saw made him raise one eyebrow with interest. Far ahead, a wagon traveled slowly, its yellow wheels brilliant against the gray shale.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered. The boy was actually following someone. Not that he would have caught up without help. Also, provided there was a girl on that wagon.

He nudged the boy, who had fallen asleep again after swearing at him with an appalling lack of skill. “Hey, Heyou. Look at this.”

Heyou stirred, sitting up slowly and blinking. Galway had to put a hand on his head and turn it in the right direction, pointing past the boy until he woke up enough to realize what he was supposed to see.

Heyou saw, and nearly fell off the horse trying to get to her. Galway barely caught him and had to put him in a bear hug to keep him from spooking his horse into throwing them both.

“Calm down!” he shouted. “You’re going to land on your head!”

“Please!” Heyou gasped, reaching out for her. “Solie! Please!” He looked up at Galway, his eyes desperate and unguarded for once. “Please take me to her!”

Boys and girls. They never changed. Galway hid his amusement, knowing Heyou would be deeply offended, instead urging his horse faster. Heyou stretched taut in front of him, staring forward and so tense that he was nearly vibrating. Galway decided not to point out that the wagon might not have the girl the boy was looking for. After all, he
hadn’t expected to find anyone out here at all. Even he didn’t come out this way. No one did, and the road ended only five miles out. Galway didn’t have any idea how they expected to continue on after that.

The horses continued smoothly, able to keep the pace for hours, and so they gained on the wagon. Galway made no attempt to hide their approach, yet they came very close before they were spotted. Less than a mile away was the first time he saw the wagon’s occupants moving and looking back, and then one figure stood up, a figure with long, flowing hair that he could see even from where he was.

“Solie!” Heyou screamed.
“Solie!”

Distantly, Galway heard her shout the boy’s name in return, and he grinned. He’d always loved happy endings.

Heyou thought he’d go insane. He could see Solie, could hear her shouting his name, and he felt a mad gratitude to the man who held him that was horrendously confusing. Males were
bad
. Every instinct said so, but this man had kept him alive and now brought him back to his queen.

The horses cantered forward, not moving nearly fast enough. Heyou saw Solie jump down from her wagon, running back toward them with her arms outspread. Heyou nearly whimpered, and when Galway finally pulled his horse to a stop with her beside them, he slithered down off the animal and into her arms. Unable to hold his weight, she tumbled to the ground with him on top.

Solie landed awkwardly on her back, a stone digging into a rib and Heyou’s weight crushing her, but she didn’t care. He was alive, he was really alive, and he was warm and kissing her and she didn’t care anymore who saw them.

She kissed him back, hugging him tightly and crying, so relieved that she couldn’t do anything other than embrace him and weep. She could feel his mind, his absolute joy, and
that only made her cry harder. He just kept kissing her, pressing his lips against her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, her neck…

Devon walked slowly over to the two, happy on one level to see the battler alive, but also badly frightened by his existence. Airi pressed against his back, her chill a sign of agreement. The man who’d brought Heyou dismounted, and he stared at Devon with placid eyes. Devon couldn’t figure out how he could be so calm.

“Galway,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Devon.” They shook. “You found him?”

“Yep.” Galway looked down at the pair and laughed. “Found him freezing to death in the woods. He said he was following a girl. I guess he was. Glad to see he was right. He’s a stubborn one.”

Devon gaped. “Stubborn?”

“Yeah. Bit of a temper, too, but I figured he had a good side somewhere.”

Devon stared at the battler. Were they talking about the same person? From Solie’s reaction, this had to be Heyou, but he couldn’t feel any aura of hate from the sylph at all. Solie had said he didn’t hate her, but this…

Considering the sylph currently had his tongue down her throat, Devon realized there was likely no hate involved at all.

Cal walked over, looking bemused. “That’s Heyou?”

“Apparently,” Devon said.

“I thought he was dead.”

“So did I.”

“Dead?” Galway asked. “Is that why he got left behind?”

Devon hesitated, not sure what answer to give, but Cal beat him to it. “Yeah. He was supposed to have been killed by a battler. I don’t know how he could have got away. I can’t imagine facing one of them. I think I’d piss myself immediately
and start begging for mercy, though I doubt that would work. That’s what I would have done if I’d been there when those two attacked the Community.”

The man really couldn’t keep a secret. Devon shot him a look, but Galway didn’t seem surprised. He looked so laidback that Devon doubted he would be shocked by anything, including the news that he’d rescued a battle sylph.

“Community?” Galway repeated. He looked at the heavily laden wagon and out at the barren landscape. “Guess you’re heading there. Think I’ll tag along for a while. I feel kind of responsible for the boy. I’d like to make sure he gets where he’s going this time.”

There was something very absolute in the man’s words, and Devon recognized the reprimand. As far as Galway was concerned, they’d abandoned a youth to die alone, and he was going to personally make sure it never happened again.

Not knowing how he could ever tell him the truth, Devon nodded. “Good to have you.”

Cal opened his mouth and then closed it again, apparently realizing that this man perhaps didn’t meet the requirements the Community sought in recruits. “Um…,” he said, “I don’t know that you’d like to come. We’re going a long way, and it’s not a really nice journey, and we’re not going anywhere that’s nice to see.”

“That’s fine,” Galway replied. “I’m coming anyway.” Turning his back on both men, he walked over to where Heyou and Solie seemed determined to suffocate each other with their passion and grabbed the battle sylph by the back of his tunic, yanking him right up off the girl. “Come on, you, there’s time enough for that later.”

Devon yelped out loud, tensing to run before the battler blew his top. From the look of shock on her face, Solie was feeling the same, and Heyou’s expression would have been comical if Devon hadn’t seen the devastation caused by his fight with Ril. There was no explosion, though, and Heyou
was set on his feet, where he swayed until Galway put a hand on his back.

“You don’t want to give her whatever you’re sick from, anyway,” the man added.

“You’re sick?” Solie gasped, scrambling to her feet. Heyou smiled, moony eyed, and shrugged.

Devon took a deep breath. He didn’t like this. “Can I talk to them alone for a minute?” he asked.

Galway shrugged. “Sure.” He led his horses over toward the wagons. Cal blinked and followed, talking apparently about why it was a good idea for the man not to come along.

Devon braced himself and looked at the girl and the battler, hoping he could get some answers without angering Heyou. He didn’t know how Galway had managed to survive.

Solie looked up at him uncertainly, her arm around Heyou. The sylph stood with his head resting on her shoulder. He looked very tired.

“I thought you died,” Devon told him quietly. “We all did. We never would have left you if we knew you were alive.”

The battler raised his head and glared, but the expression didn’t last long and he buried his face against Solie again. “I hid,” he told them softly. “When it was safe, I followed my queen.”

“I knew,” Solie breathed. “I don’t know how, but I knew. I knew you were alive.” He pulled away and smiled up at her again.

Devon frowned. “Why did it take you so long to catch up? And why are you, um…”

“Not scary?” The battler sighed. “I think I’m dying.” When Solie gasped, he pressed himself against her again. “But I’m happy.”

“How can you be happy if you’re dying?” she wailed.

“I’m with you.”

Solie stared at Devon with heartbroken eyes and he had to look away. He didn’t know how to save a dying battler. He didn’t know anything about sylph health. They didn’t get sick! “Airi?” he asked. “Can we do anything?”

Not us.

He sighed and shook his head. In human form and without that aura of hate, Heyou didn’t look like a battle sylph at all, just a sickly boy. “Let’s not tell anyone he’s a battler, okay?” Solie nodded, tears in her eyes as he added, “I don’t know how any of these people would react. Come on.”

He helped them walk over to the wagon. Heyou was leaning heavily on Solie. Devon wasn’t sure if that was because of his condition or if he just wanted to get close to her. The pair climbed up in back, and Solie wrapped Heyou in blankets.

Devon got up on the front seat with Cal, and the wagon started off, Galway riding easily behind. Devon blew out a breath and tried not to look at the two lovebirds behind him, but he couldn’t help wondering what all of this meant.

Solie lay in the wagon on top of the blanket covering Heyou. He was pillowed by a bag of rice and staring joyfully at her, his hand cupping her face.

She couldn’t stop touching him either, stroking his hair and cheeks while he made a bizarre, almost purring sound. He was alive! Some strange emptiness in her was full again. Her battle sylph was with her, and she could feel how happy he was. She had to wipe tears away, and leaned over to kiss him.

“I missed you,” she whispered. She didn’t understand this bond between them, but she didn’t want to deny it anymore either. He was hers, for as long as both of them lived.

Heyou smiled at her, his face pale. “I missed you too.”

“What happened to you?” she asked. The wagon went
over a heavy bump, and he winced. Solie bit her lip worriedly.

“He was older than me,” Heyou admitted. “I thought I could beat him since he was locked into one shape, but he destroyed me instead.” He looked away for a moment. “He would have killed you.”

“Devon and Airi saved me,” she told him. “You were very brave. I never would have escaped without you.” He smiled happily again. “But you’re not going to die, are you? You can’t mean that.” Her voice cracked. “You just found me again.”

“I don’t know,” he mourned. “He hurt me…I just…I’ll try.”

Solie bent her head, pressing her forehead against his. He put an arm around her neck, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. “Just don’t die,” she told him. “You’re not allowed to die, got it? We’ll get to the place we’re going in three days.”