The Battle Sylph (15 page)

Sylphs were suddenly all around them, beings of air and fire shouting in loud strange voices that they stop, Cal shrieking back that they were friends. Solie looked down at Heyou again, grasping his hand.

“We’re here, Heyou. Hold on.” In answer, his eyes closed. His breathing was slow. She could barely feel his presence. “Heyou?”

“We’re here!” The platform with the wagon and horses reached the top of the bluff. There it slowed, coming to a stop before a gathering of tents, and domes of rock made by other earth sylphs. People were gathering despite the cold, all of them whispering and many of them armed.

Devon raised his hands as Galway leaped into the wagon and scooped Heyou into his arms, blankets and all. Solie scrambled to stay at his side as the trapper jumped down, carrying the limp battler but not sure where to go.

“We need help here!” he shouted. “Tell me you have a doctor!”

A man with thinning hair and an arm in a sling came toward them. “Who are you?” He looked at Cal. “What have you done?”

Cal started to stammer a reply.

“No arguing,” Galway interrupted, walking with authority toward the new man. “This boy is dying.” Solie looked fearfully at the stranger, praying he could help.

“I don’t know that you can do anything—” Devon
started to say, his hands still raised, and Solie shot him a furious look. “I don’t know that a doctor can help.”

“Please,” she begged, not caring how weak tears made her look. “Please save him if you can.” She couldn’t imagine not having Heyou’s presence at her side or his emotions in her mind. Not anymore. He was an addiction she couldn’t bear to lose.

The armed group of men started whispering. Women and their offspring were appearing, along with more sylphs than Solie ever could have imagined, many of whom took forms reminiscent of children.

One sylph in particular pushed forward, shoving through the crowd. She rushed toward Heyou, her form adult in size but as soft and featureless as a statue after a thousand years in the wind. Her eyes gleamed as she reached for him, and Solie could feel the power in her, just as she had sensed the potency of the battler who’d fought Heyou. This was different, though, not dangerous at all.

“Luck!” someone shouted. “Wait!”

The sylph ignored the order, grabbing Heyou. Dropping to her knees, she pulled him close, power already pouring forth. She’d felt his pain while he was still out on the plains, felt the air and earth sylphs bringing him. His aura was hidden from the others, concealing what he was, but she could feel it. A battler, a battler brought to her strange, adopted hive. A battler she was bound to heal. They were always healed first, even before the queen. They protected the hive, and this one had been attacked once already. With him they would have a battler of their own—a young one, but a battler still!

She felt where he’d been torn, his mantle ripped expertly so that his energy would leak out until he died, weakening him until he couldn’t even feed anymore. The mantle was still there, though, and she labored to fix it, to knit the gaping
wounds. She forced everything she had left into the battler’s body, hearing her master wail behind her, but this would protect him as well, and he’d never been good at orders. She kept healing and fading, tying the other sylph’s body back together even as her own broke down.

Solie watched in amazement as the female sylph glowed, her brilliant light spreading out over Heyou’s insensate form. Everyone else fell silent, gathering in the frigid wind and watching as she healed him. Nothing happened that Solie could see, but everything that she could feel. Whatever tie it was that she had to Heyou, it all came back. She felt his sudden pain flare up and fade away, and his strength return. Wrung out, she went limp and slumped to her knees.

At last the Healer let Heyou go, her own form so faded that there was little left of her to see but the diminutive ball of energy she’d become. Shivering, that ball rose up and bobbed over to a frightened bald man, who held her tenderly in his hands and walked off toward the tents, taking cautious steps as everyone else got out of his way.

The man in the sling watched them go. Turning back to Solie’s group with a heavy expression, apparently not pleased with what the healer sylph had just done to herself for a stranger, he growled, “Who are you?” The armed men closed ranks around him, flanked by their sylphs.

“Solie?”

She looked over to see Heyou sitting up, rubbing his head and glaring at the man, though his aura remained hidden. He looked tired, but she could feel confusion instead of pain, and she scooted toward him with a wail, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “Oh, Heyou!” she cried. “You’re okay!”

Happy, he hugged her back, though his eyes never left the circle of armed men.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Not if you don’t have to.” His arms tightened in acknowledgment.

“Don’t know much about them just yet,” Galway spoke up, answering the other man’s question, “but I’m Galway, and that’s Heyou sitting on the ground there. I’m a trapper from the woods on the Eferem side of the Shale Plains. Heyou I picked up in the woods. Supposedly he’s with them.” He nodded at Solie and cocked a thumb at Devon and Cal.

Devon looked at the group of armed men and slowly lowered his hands. “My name is Devon Chole and the girl is Solie. Heyou’s with her. My air sylph is Airi. We’re…well, we’re on the run from the king. Cal said you’d have a place here for us.”

Cal grinned nervously. “I did. Um, yeah. Really.”

The man in charge looked over them all, and finally sighed. “Fine. Luck apparently vouches for you. For the time being, welcome to the Community. My name is Morgal. I’m the leader of the council we’ve set up here. You’ll have to answer to me.”

Cal blanched. “What happened to Nor and the others?”

“They died,” Morgal said. “They drew the battlers away while the rest of us escaped. You know of the attack on us?” he asked the rest.

“No,” Galway answered, even as Devon said, “Yes.”

Morgal shook his head. “It was our fault,” he admitted. “You may as well know, if you plan to stay here. We attacked a couple of Eferem ships to get enough supplies to make sure we survived the winter. It won’t be happening again. We don’t have much, but we’ll find places for you, providing you’re willing to work. Devon, your air sylph will be useful. The boy and the girl can help out with the chores. That’ll keep them out of trouble. You—” He looked at Galway.

“I won’t be staying long,” the trapper told him. “Just came
to make sure the boy would be all right. Unless you have a problem with people leaving?”

“No.” Morgal sighed. “We’re not that strict. Just promise you won’t tell anyone where we are. They’ll find out about us soon enough anyway.”

“I can do that.” Galway shook Morgal’s hand.

Solie hugged her battle sylph gratefully. “We’re safe, Heyou. We can stay!”

“What are chores?” he asked.

As the sylphs were busy working to create a system to bring water to the top of a hill, where it had never been before, and to dig tunnels and chambers throughout its core so that the humans could escape the ever-present cold, much of the grunt labor of the camp fell to the youngsters, partly to take advantage of their energy and partly, as Morgal intimated, to keep them all out of trouble.

Eyes wide with absolute horror, Heyou picked up a rock, hefted it against his belly and duckwalked it over to the edge of the cliff, where he dropped it over the side, just like his fellow miserable prisoner.

“Are we done yet?” he whined.

The other, a pimply fifteen-year-old boy named Relig—to whom Heyou considered he’d been very generous by not making a single death threat—glared at him. “There’s a whole pile’s gotta go over before lunch, or the witch won’t let us eat.”

Heyou looked at the pile, which had to be at least the size of the entire world, and wished Solie hadn’t made him promise that he’d keep hiding his real nature. Relig slouched off in the other direction, muttering something about the latrine as he passed the stone pile and vanished. Heyou immediately took advantage of the opportunity, grabbing a few dozen larger boulders and whipping them over the side from where he stood. He was just starting on the midsized ones when he sensed a male approaching. Immediately, he grabbed a rock in the traditional manner and started duckwalking it to the edge.

He’d realized, a little grudgingly, that males in this world weren’t like those of his own. Galway had saved his life, after all, and Devon had saved Solie. Cal was an idiot, but the man had helped bring them all here. Heyou had decided he could afford a little leeway and forgiveness, especially if it made Solie happy.

Around the pile sauntered a boy who pretty much made Heyou want to give up on the whole idea of forgiveness and start mass killings again. Bevan was the leader of the local youngsters, whether they wanted him to be or not, and he was also their number-one tormentor. Heyou particularly hated him, even after only a few days. He wished he could show him he was a battle sylph.

“Hey, loser,” the newcomer taunted, looking at the pile. “Is that the most you’ve moved? I could have got rid of all of it by now.”

“Go away,” Heyou told him.

Instead, the boy grinned. “Aw, are you afraid of me?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Bevan smirked, walking right up to him. He was a little taller than Heyou’s current form, and, Heyou had been told, much less attractive.

“Solie says you’re ugly,” Heyou pointed out.

The boy blanched and his face turned red. “Do you want a punch in the mouth?” Behind him, Relig appeared, slouching back toward the rock pile, but when he saw what was happening he ran.

“Do you want to die?” Heyou retorted, his temper flaring. It threatened to leap out of control, but the memory of a battler in the shape of a bird and his own humbling failure forced him to control himself. Solie had told him to act human. She was the queen. This time he was going to listen to her, no matter what.

Bevan got right in his face, glaring belligerently. “You better watch who you get mouthy with,” he warned.

Heyou dropped the rock he’d been holding on the bully’s foot.

Bevan howled. A few seconds later, he and Heyou were having a wonderful fight, pounding on each other with their fists. Bevan couldn’t actually hurt him, and it did wonders for Heyou’s wounded self-confidence to get to beat on someone and actually win. He had Bevan’s face down in the dirt, experimenting on whether humans could breathe with dirt up their nose, when he felt a familiar hand grab him by the back of his shirt and pull. A moment later, Galway regarded him evenly, his expression showing he was unimpressed.

“Did you see what I did?” Heyou asked happily. “I won!”

“I saw,” the trapper answered, pulling him around so that they were both facing the other direction. A red-faced older woman in black stood there, so angry she was almost steaming. Heyou remembered her from that morning, when she’d put him on rock duty in the first place.

“Hi!” he said to her winningly. “Are you the witch?”

Solie was used to hard work, especially after growing up on a farm. Still, she’d rather hoped never to have to peel quite so many potatoes again. Sitting down before the fruits of her labor, she sighed and pulled her kerchief off. Along with the mashed potatoes, she had a single piece of bread and a few boiled carrots.

A boy sat beside her but was immediately yanked backward onto the floor. Heyou sat down beside her instead, carrying his own plate, which he immediately ignored in favor of beaming at her. “Hi!”

Solie grinned. He really was cute, and being around him made her heart beat faster. The bond between them just kept getting stronger the longer they were together, and she was getting better at feeling his emotions as well. Either that, or he was getting better at projecting them. Whichever
it was, she found herself increasingly relaxed around him, enough for most of her earlier inhibitions to weaken. Maybe she could find somewhere to take him in order to try some of that kissing stuff again. But to do that, they had to escape the Widow Blackwell. The woman watched over all the orphan children, which was about two-thirds of them, and Solie had already heard horror stories about her.

“What have you been up to all morning?” she asked.

“I moved rocks,” he told her. “Then I got to beat someone up. Then I got to dig feces out of a hole.” He paused. “What’s a feces?”

“You don’t want to know. Did you wash your hands?”

He looked down at them in bemusement.

“Go wash your hands,” she ordered, and he stood up, immediately heading out.

The three girls sitting on the other side of the table leaned forward, their faces shining. Each had something to say.

“He’s gorgeous! Where did you meet him?”

“Are you betrothed?”

“I’d like to take him out behind the supply tent.” This last comment drew silence from all of the girls, who glanced in surprise at the speaker. She looked to be two or three years younger than Solie. “What? Like you’re not thinking the same thing?” She regarded Solie. “Have you gone there with him?”

Everyone turned to Solie in fascination.

Solie turned red. “I…” She’d thought about it, but how could she tell them that? Heyou wasn’t human. She couldn’t be with him! Could she? But she’d kissed him when he found her again, and she’d enjoyed it. And he wanted her so much. Every time he came near she found it harder to remember to say no.

“Oh, yeah,” the third girl decided. “She’s gone out there with him.”

“No!” Solie gasped as the others dissolved into giggles. “I couldn’t!”

“Why not? He’s beautiful. I’m Loren. Your name is Solie?” The girl extended her hand.

Solie took it. “Yes. We just got here a few days ago.”

“We noticed. It’s kind of a small place. These are Mel and Aneala.” She indicated the others.

“I heard he got into a fight with Bevan this morning,” Mel said breathlessly. “He must be very brave.”

“Yes,” Solie agreed uncertainly. Heyou had mentioned something about that. At least he hadn’t killed anyone.

“I heard Luck, the healer, let someone die to heal him,” Aneala continued. “My cousin said Brev was going to be okay, but he died this morning because she was too weak to work on him after healing your boyfriend.” She stared at Solie solemnly. “No one understands why she’d help a stranger before one of us. Brev was here for years.”

Solie fought off horror. Stuck in the kitchen tent all day yesterday and again today, she hadn’t heard any of this. By the time she’d got back to the sleeping tent she was sharing with several other girls, she’d just wanted to think about Heyou and actual slumber. “Wh-what?”

“Brev,” Aneala repeated. “He was the blacksmith. He stayed behind to help fight off the battlers with his fire sylph. They killed her and nearly him. I guess they did kill him, since he died last night.”

“Hey,” Mel protested. “That’s not Solie’s fault. Luck went all crazy. Was her boyfriend supposed to die instead?”

“Tell that to Brev’s wife.”

Solie stared at the ground, disconsolate.

A moment later, Heyou plopped down beside her again, grinning. “I’m back!” he said. Then he picked up on her mood as his attention focused, reading her emotions. He glared at the other girls. “What did you say to her?” It wasn’t quite a threat. He wouldn’t threaten a woman.

“Nothing,” Loren told him sweetly, while the other two blushed. Heyou glowered at her, able to read the lie, then turned back to Solie.

“It’s okay,” he told her softly, and leaned forward to kiss her shoulder. It sent wonderfully warm tingles through her and she actually gasped, dissolving the other three into a tizzy of giggles. Heyou took her reaction as an invitation and leaned closer, stroking her back as he leaned in to kiss her.

It seemed like a good idea, Solie thought. It really did.

Heyou froze a moment later as a wooden spoon came down on top of his head, hard. “Do I have to separate you two?” the Widow Blackwell snapped.

The Community, they learned, was made up of two hundred people from different villages and hamlets in the mountains of Para Dubh, all of them wanting more than the kingdom’s peasant class was allowed. There were a lot of women and children—more than Devon had realized when he arrived—and an unfortunate number of them were widows and orphans. Before the attack, there had been dozens more men in the Community. Now all of them were lost, including their entire original leadership base.

There were also more sylphs than Devon had ever seen in one place, even after living in the barracks. Back home, they worked behind the scenes, usually invisible, and silent if seen at all. Even in the barracks they stayed invisible or in private rooms. Only the battlers were obvious. Here, there were no battlers, and the sylphs had no restrictions. They took shapes so varied that he couldn’t identify what many of them were, though most adopted forms like strange little children—and all of them talked. They chattered like birds, most of them ignoring humans other than their own masters but gossiping among each other as they worked to turn
the bluff into a serviceable home, doing the tasks to which humans weren’t suited.

“Is this what you’re normally like?” Devon asked his sylph, a little overwhelmed. A group of water and earth sylphs were digging a tunnel under the ground to bring water up the bluff. They looked like a group of giggling ten-year-olds, except they were brown or blue, made of water or dirt, and squealed like rabbits every time they succeeded at something. Their masters moved among them like schoolteachers, helping out whenever possible.

Yes,
Airi told him happily. “It’s a good hive.” The last sentence she actually spoke aloud as she formed herself into the translucent shape of a long-haired girl. “I like it,” she added.

Devon stared at her, amazed. He’d rarely seen her take solid form, and he’d never heard her speak aloud. She looked a lot like him, he noted, as though he could be her father or uncle. It was touching.

“Hive?” he asked her.

We live in hives back home,
she continued.
There aren’t any in this world, but with so many of us here we decided to make a hive of our own. I’m happy. I never thought of making an adoptive hive.

“Then there aren’t any adoptive hives back in Eferem?” he asked her, curious. He’d never thought to ask about where she’d come from. No one really did. It was thought by a lot of people that sylphs came from nothingness, or from hell. Why else would they cross the gate?

No. Too many rules. We’re not allowed to talk to each other, so no one could share the idea even if they came up with it…This is much nicer. Can we stay?

Devon looked around at the work being done to turn the bluff into a home. “Sure.” Where else were they going to go?

Thank you!
Airi vanished again, and he felt her winds sweep around him
. I do like it. And they like me. I feel welcome here. Everyone talks to everyone else.

He looked toward where he knew she was, though she stayed invisible. “Does that include Heyou?”

No. He’s still hiding. Battlers don’t interact with us smaller sylphs much anyway. They’re different. Maybe he’ll want to be our battler, though, and protect us. That would make everyone feel better.

Devon wasn’t so sure of that. He especially wasn’t sure that the humans in Airi’s new “hive” would be happy to find out there was a battle sylph among them. It seemed there wasn’t a single family that hadn’t lost someone to Ril and Mace’s ambush, and so he doubted they would even welcome a young battler among them. His group’s welcome could end very quickly if the battle sylph slipped up and revealed himself.

“Devon.”

Still considering their welcome, he turned to see Galway walking toward him. The wind blew right through Devon, despite his warm cloak. Unlike Devon, the trapper didn’t seem to feel the cold at all. “Interesting place, isn’t it?” the man asked.

Devon nodded. “It is. I’m impressed with how much they’ve been able to do here so fast. When are you heading back?”

“Not for a few more days. Running the risk of getting caught by the snow, but I kind of want to see what this place turns into—and to make sure the boy is all right.”

Devon’s laugh was hollow. “I don’t think Heyou needs guidance as much as you think he does.”

“He’s young. Youngsters always need someone to watch out for them.” Galway looked back the way he’d come, farther down the slope. “Morgal said they were trying for a healer. Thought we could go watch.”

The two headed down the hill. Its slope was barely noticeable for the first several hundred feet, then the drop became steeper, plummeting to the plains and requiring a switchback road to get any wagon up it. As a defensible place against humans, it was brilliant. Against battlers, nowhere would work.

Before Devon, an earth sylph stood next to her master, peering critically down at the ground. She glanced up at him and grinned hugely. A moment later, she dove into the earth and Devon felt it shake. A sinkhole appeared, and he and Galway paused, the sylph’s master gesturing them back. The opening widened, growing twenty feet across, and then steps started forming, creating a stairway leading down. A fire sylph dove after the earth one, lighting the way down to a chamber being widened below.