Queen Of The Sylphs Part 6

"I don't blame you," Galway said. Cal's herd was up to a hundred animals, which at least kept him in the Valley instead of driving carts all over the place and babbling things he shouldn't to anyone who might listen. Galway liked Cal, but the man had no concept of discretion. "Did his son help out?"

Nelson shrugged, chewing and swallowing before he answered, just in case Iyala was watching. "He was there, but he didn't help all that much. He spent most of the time b.i.t.c.hing about how his fiancee was stolen."

Galway had to smile. Nelson's expression said it all. He'd known Justin for years, and he never would have spoiled the boy like Cal had. Justin thought he was ent.i.tled, which none of Galway's children did. Then again, many of Galway's had been disabused of the notion before they even joined his family. The rest had learned fast. Including Heyou.

Behind him, Iyala finished mauling her newest, strangest son, and she let him go with a final kiss and a mad tousling of his hair. He reeled back, grinning, and flopped into a chair beside Galway. He looked like he'd been through a windstorm.

"You better bring Solie around to dinner soon," Iyala warned him, her stern tone belied by her twinkling eyes.

Heyou's grin faded. "I guess."

Everyone glanced up in surprise. He stared down at the table.

Galway sighed. "Keep eating, you lot." He looked at his wife before his eyes shifted to Heyou. She nodded and moved to pile another helping on the youngest children's plates, whether they wanted it or not.

Nelson eyed Heyou suspiciously, like he suspected one of their infamous fights. Nelson was a peaceful sort now, but that hadn't stopped him from hitting Heyou with a chair once while they were still working out their differences. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nelson," Galway cautioned. "Finish your lunch."

The young man processed that and sighed, digging back into his meal. He was done in minutes, and when he left, most of the other children followed. Heyou without a grin was an unusual thing, but they wouldn't bother being worried until they had to.

The two adults weren't quite so complacent.

"What happened today, Thom?" Iyala asked.

Galway shrugged, pushing his bowl away and regarding Heyou. After decades of everyone calling him by his last name, it still felt odd when his wife did otherwise. "It seems Solie wants to have children."

"Ah," Iyala breathed. "I see. So you're going to be a father, Heyou? That's a big responsibility."

Heyou froze, incredulous. "Be a father? How do I do that? I can't have human kids."

"So?" Iyala started to clear the table, piling bowls so she could carry them to the kitchen. "I've only borne two of my children. The rest just showed up."

Heyou blinked. He looked deep in thought.

"That doesn't mean you just go and find a child to take home," Galway pointed out. "That sort of thing tends to irritate a parent."

Heyou smiled, his eyes twinkling, but his mirth didn't last long. "She wants a baby inside her. I can feel it. I can't give her that."

"Do you want to?" Iyala asked.

"Yeah. I want Solie happy." His response was immediate and he shivered. "I don't want her to think about leaving me."

"Well," Galway said, with a speculative tap of his finger to his lips. "There is a way to get her pregnant, given a little intervention."

"Intervention?" Heyou asked.

Galway gave a small smile. "Do you know how human women get pregnant?"

Heyou shot him a look. "Yeah-unless it's different than cows."

Iyala gave a hearty guffaw. Galway laughed, too. It was apparently considered a spectator sport among battle sylphs whenever the bulls were released into a herd.

"Well, if you know that, do you know what they do when they have a cow that's especially reluctant?"

Heyou blinked.

"Don't tease the boy, Thom," Iyala said. "Just tell him."

Heyou's eyes got huge as Galway explained.

Chapter Seven.

Solie sat in an opulent private garden created by her friend Loren and Loren's water sylph. Sh.o.r.e was someone Solie considered a friend as well, though the little sylph had only spoken to her once and was obviously still nervous around her.

It had been Sh.o.r.e's idea, actually, to make the garden, and the s.p.a.ce was beautiful, with trickling streams and richly flowering bushes. The area was small, only a few hundred feet across, but it lay directly through wide doors that led from her bedroom, and her view of the growing settlement was cut off by an encircling wall, making a serene retreat for Solie whenever she wanted to get away. Also, thanks to the addition of wind chimes and the artful arrangement of the trickling streams, most of the noise of the town was blocked as well. Solie could pretend she was miles away from everything, safe in her own private little haven.

Unfortunately, too many people knew about it. Solie saw that such feelings were uncharitable, but this was the only time this morning she'd had a chance to sit and have some tea. Loren didn't need to be sitting here. Not like Solie did. She had a talent for gardening, and with Sh.o.r.e to help her she could make as many private gardens for herself as she wished.

Well, maybe it was the dynamic between Loren and Lizzy that was making Solie twitch. Lizzy had been kidnapped off the docks and sold into slavery because Loren convinced her to come along to Para Dubh. Loren hadn't been kidnapped at all. Thanks to Sh.o.r.e, Solie could feel the girls' tension far more clearly than she would have liked.

Loren was twenty, older than Lizzy but younger than Solie. She was attractive, but the only thing in her life that she took responsibility for was Sh.o.r.e. The little water sylph sat beside her, looking like a younger version of Loren, her hair only a little damper. There was no sign of Lizzy's sylph, but Solie had to wonder how long it would take Ril to decide to show up, given how tense the girl felt.

Seated in one of two chairs nearby, Gabralina chewed on a biscuit with great enjoyment, oblivious to what else was going on at the table. Her friend Sala sat beside her. Until Lizzy arrived, Loren had been regaling Sala with the story of how she became Sh.o.r.e's master after the sylph's original master died.

Solie almost groaned. Why had she decided to let all of them into her garden in the first place? It hadn't even occurred to her that Loren and Lizzy wouldn't have already talked. But Lizzy looked ready to dive over the table at her friend. She sipped her tea and licked her lips, not turning away from Loren at all. She was clearly furious.

Sala turned to Solie, one eyebrow raised. The young queen glanced away, giving a brief shudder. The tension was ratcheting up even more between Loren and Lizzy, and Sala's calm placidity felt cloying in comparison.

For her part, Loren looked guilty. She felt remorse as well, along with fright. Faced with something she couldn't hide from behind her usual shallow chitchat, the girl didn't know what to do. Solie sighed inside and wondered if she should just call Mace and ask him to bring the Widow. Lily Blackwell would knock the two girls' heads together and be done with it.

Lizzy continued to glare, and Solie tried to hide another sigh. This was supposed to be her break! For half the afternoon she had meetings with merchants wanting to set up permanent shops in the town, and then others with the local planning committee about the next phase of reconstruction to bring more arid land back to life. After that was Petr the priest, and they would decide how many more people to train to utilize the gate, as well as how many sylphs they would invite through this year. She also had to sit with Devon, who was understandably nervous at the prospect of going to a foreign kingdom.

She did hope he agreed. Devon was a dear man and a gentle person, and she couldn't imagine anyone she'd trust more to do this job. Well, other than Leon, Galway, or the Widow Blackwell, none of whom were in a position to go. But she had no intention of forcing him.

Her mind was turning more and more to the things she wished she could have, and her hand pressed against her childless belly for a moment. She then took control of herself and turned back to see if she could stop this silliness before broken crockery started flying.

"So," Lizzy said, her teeth gritted so tight she could barely speak. "How have you been, Loren?"

"Good," the girl replied. "I've moved out of the hive apartments. Stria made me a cottage on the lake in return for Sh.o.r.e making Cal a vegetable garden." Then, realizing perhaps that discussing her own good fortune and the Porters' earth sylph might not be the best move, she fell silent, her throat moving convulsively.

Lizzy's teeth ground loud enough that Gabralina finally looked up from her plate. Sala said nothing, just continuing to watch everyone with that surprisingly flat gaze.

Solie was just lifting her hand, not able to stand any more, when Sh.o.r.e spoke. She'd moved from her chair to stand beside Loren, her small fingers appearing over the side of the small round table next to her childish face. "I'm sorry," she said in her light, bubbling voice.

All five human women stared.

The little sylph closed green eyes with endless waves of ocean in the iris. "I left you there. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

The little sylph's distress and regret were so great that none of them could help but feel it, and the anger and resentment that had been building among them collapsed. Loren threw her arms around the water sylph, hugging the small creature to her and telling her how wonderful she was, while Lizzy dropped to her knees to hold them both, telling Sh.o.r.e that it wasn't her fault, that no one could have known what those men on the docks would do and that Sh.o.r.e should be proud of saving Loren from the same fate. Somehow, in rea.s.suring Sh.o.r.e, the words became true, and the two friends-c.u.m-enemies ended up sobbing in each other's arms, everything forgiven.

It was infectious. Gabralina watched for a moment, eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g, then dove herself into the pile with an unladylike wail. Solie was just about to join them when she saw Sala. Gabralina's friend continued to watch without any emotion. None at all. There was nothing wrong with that, exactly, but still Solie felt a chill.

A step sounded behind her, and she turned to see Claw peering out into the garden, on guard and drawn by the mora.s.s of emotion. Solie smiled, seeing as she did the reflection of the table and her friends in the gla.s.s doors he'd pushed wide. Behind her, Sala was beaming at the battler, her face transformed into something almost beautiful. Claw stared back, entranced.

Sala's emotions didn't change, however. Still placid, still calm-and Solie spun to see her face had once again gone blank. The girl sipped her tea and watched the three women and the water sylph untangle themselves, saying nothing, feeling nothing.

Solie turned back to the battle sylph. "Thank you, Claw," she said, suddenly wanting him to leave for reasons she couldn't explain. "Why don't you go see if Rachel needs your help?"

Claw gave a convulsive swallow and nodded. Another battler was summoned to take his place as guard, and Solie felt him move inside the house almost immediately, but this one ignored the women as much as they ignored him.

Solie turned back to Sala, but the woman didn't meet her gaze, smiling at Gabralina instead. The queen took another sip of her tea, wondering what it was that had her spooked. Maybe her fears were just a woman's vapors.

Such thoughts reminded her again of what she wanted and couldn't have, and she sat in silence and tried not to sigh.

Justin trudged homeward, tired from his day and bitter about it. Nelson Galway seemed to have an unreasonable expectation of him, considering the man worked for his father. They'd been friends while growing up, but it wasn't Nelson's place to hint that Justin wasn't working hard enough. Justin worked plenty hard. And he'd just gotten back from a terrible trip.

Ahead, the road branched off toward several different houses, one of them his father's. Justin had planned to be moved out already, but of course that hadn't happened. Not without a wife. He could still have a home of his own, but he didn't want to live alone.

His father was still finishing up with the cattle, along with Nelson. At least he understood. Seeing those calves being gelded and listening to the screams . . . it was all too much a reminder of Meridal, where his tongue had been cut out. That had been the worst pain in the world, and he couldn't ever forget it. Even with his tongue restored, he carried too many other scars.

Justin shuddered and went inside. He headed into the kitchen, where Stria, his father's earth sylph, was playing with the marbles Cal was always making for her. She had thousands of them, and she never tired of the stupid things. Seeing her just brought the anger back. She was supposed to have been his, just like Lizzy. Justin was supposed to inherit her, along with this house and all the cattle, and he would have been rich, for Stria was an old sylph and powerful. Some of her marbles were made of ruby or emerald, brought up from diving expeditions. His father didn't do much with them other than turn them into marbles. As far as he was concerned, they didn't need a lot. Stria had made their home and they owned a large herd. They didn't need more.

Justin would have put her to work. He stared at the little mud-covered, squat, doll-like creature. He would have been rich enough to give Lizzy a home that everyone else envied; only now that was impossible. Stria could have a hundred masters, but a human could only have one sylph, and thanks to Meridal, Justin was bound to Ril. He could feel the battle sylph in the back of his mind like a vague itch. He didn't get more than that and didn't want it. Ril ignored him, and Justin was glad-or he would have been if the d.a.m.ned battler hadn't stolen his future. Both Stria and Lizzy.

He'd come home feeling hunger. Now Justin just felt sick to his stomach again. He turned to go to his room, but halfway across the kitchen, his foot shot out from under him and he had to grab the counter to keep from falling. Stria turned her broad, flat face toward him, her chinless mouth hanging open. He'd slipped on one of her marbles, he realized, and he saw her swallow convulsively.

Justin's anger surged. She'd never be his, and all she cared about were her b.l.o.o.d.y marbles! "How can you be so stupid!" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Stria cringed, mumbling an apology he couldn't really hear, then plopped out of her chair and shuffled hurriedly across the floor to recover her errant toys. She left dirty footprints as she went. She was always tracking mud into the house.

"You're making a mess!" he screamed, truly wanting to hit her in that moment.

A shadow fell over the kitchen window, and Justin heard a low growl. A quickly there, quickly vanished surge of hate flashed through him, the emotion of another, and he spun, his bladder nearly letting go. Swirling, ball lightning eyes glared in through the window.

"I wasn't going to hurt her," he gasped, his hands raised as he backed away. He nearly tripped over one of Stria's marbles again, but he regained his footing and kept retreating, reaching the doorway at last and running to his room.

Stria watched her master's son run out the door, taking his panic with him. She glanced next toward the window, where Blue's swirling eye still regarded her.

Thank you, she sent.

You're welcome.

He moved away, continuing his rounds, and Stria slowly moved to collect her scattered marbles, checking them meticulously for damage. Cal would be home soon, but she wouldn't tell him about this, not wanting to see him upset. She was glad, though, that Justin would never be her master.

Devon wandered his small underground apartment, digging through his belongings and wondering what to take, what to leave behind, and if he was losing his mind for even considering the trip.

Do you want to go? Airi asked, floating around his head and ruffling his hair.

"Yes. No. I don't know." Devon turned and sat down on his bed, his hands dangling between his legs. "Oh, stars, why me?"

Because you can do this? I think it would be fun. I'd like to feel the winds of a new place.

He stared up at where he knew she floated. "You want to go?"

Yes. Coming here was wonderful. Now we have a chance to make friends with another hive. That never happens back where I came from. I like it.

Devon frowned. He appreciated her point of view, but he was terrified of leaving. More than just about anything, he hated change. Yes, he'd brought Airi here to a new place, but that hadn't exactly been planned. He hadn't actually had a chance to really stop and think until he was a full-fledged member of Solie's hive. If he had been given a choice, he would have been too afraid to get out of bed that morning.

Turning, he opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a wooden flute, an instrument nearly as small as a whistle. He felt Airi's excitement, and he raised it to his lips to play.

His fingers flashed. The music was sweet and high, filling the small room and causing his air sylph to dance happily above him. She loved this, was drawn to music as all air sylphs were, and though she'd have been his whether he had talent or not, Devon's family had insisted he learn to play before his father transfered mastery. Devon had chosen the flute because it was portable and he could carry it anywhere, but playing the instrument calmed his mind as much as it made Airi happy. He never went a day without playing, and as his fingers danced over the holes, he felt his tensions ease.

He didn't really think as he played, but he knew suddenly that, whether he wanted to or not, he would go to Meridal. Leon had asked him, and Solie was in agreement, and he owed them both more than he could ever admit. He'd been just an air sylph master in Eferem, little better than a laborer. Airi hadn't even had the right to speak. Now they both had their freedom. And more than just his debt, he wanted to help the others. Their position here was precarious if the kingdoms around them decided to join forces. With Meridal on their side, they were far more secure.

Devon finished his song much more content with the world, even though he knew he'd be panicked again at some point-likely when the sheer distance he'd be traveling and the enormity of his task next occurred to him. For now, though, he and his sylph were at peace. That was all that mattered.

A knock sounded at the front door, hurried and hard. Devon felt Airi's sudden recognition and alarm just before the k.n.o.b turned violently enough to break the lock. The door swung wide.

Heyou stood there, in human form, grinning in a way that would have terrified Devon even if he didn't already instinctively fear battle sylphs. He knew he shouldn't, that none of the Valley battlers had any reason to hurt him, but he'd experienced their hate aura too many times and had even seen this particular battler fight. The town of Devon's father had nearly been decimated in the process.

And, Heyou's grin had far too many teeth. Airi pressed herself against the back of Devon's neck, a freezing chill, just as frightened as he.

"Hi!" Heyou said, probably knowing exactly what Devon was feeling but not caring. "Since you're leaving and everything, I was wondering if you were interested in being the father of my baby?"

Rachel sighed wearily as she swept the floor of the cla.s.sroom. The children were restless, and it had been a long day. More, her arthritis was acting up and her hands ached where they held the broom. Tonight she'd have to ask Claw to make dinner and then rub some ointment into her hands.

She smiled slightly. He was wonderfully adept, and in many ways she preferred that kind of intimacy to his making love to her. It wasn't that she didn't like his more physical attentions. At her age, she hadn't expected to have any kind of man's touch again, and Claw did make her feel very young. And he was doing so much better now. He was still shy, but he was trying harder and his confidence was building. When she could draw him out of his sh.e.l.l, which was happening more and more frequently, he was a wonderful conversationalist. Overall, Claw was a good soul, and he didn't deserve what had been done to him.

"Let me do that . . . for you." Slimmer, younger hands reached for the broom. Sala, her new a.s.sistant, smiled and started to sweep the floor. "There's tea in the back room for you. Rest. I'll finish up here."

Rachel gave the young woman a grateful look. Most of the sylphs took cla.s.ses at night while everyone else slept, but some preferred the day, and there were so many students who needed to learn. Children, adults . . . And there were just so few teachers available. When Sala volunteered to help, it had been a blessing. The young woman didn't seem to have the compa.s.sion needed to be a good instructor for the little ones, but she controlled the older children with ease. None of her cla.s.ses were unruly. All Sala's students were quiet and well behaved.

"Thank you, Sala," she said. Slowly making her way out of the cla.s.sroom and down the dark hallway to the tiny kitchen at the back of the school, Rachel rubbed her sore hands. Everyone was gone now, and the halls echoed strangely, the soft susurration of Sala's broom in the cla.s.sroom behind her the only accompaniment to the shuffling of her feet on the polished wood.

The kitchen was a spare room overlooking the back garden, with a fireplace equipped with a pole that a kettle could be hung on. The windows were large, and Rachel sat down in the light of the setting sun, reaching for the fat pot of tea that had been left to steep on a tray in the middle of the small staff table. Sala had even set out a mug and a pot of honey, along with a small plate of cookies. Thanking whatever kind deity brought the woman, Rachel poured herself a mug and added a dollop of honey. Sitting back, she took a relishing sip and sighed.

Sala could have arranged to have her own apartment, but it suited her to stay with her friend. She arrived back at Gabralina's shortly before dark. Letting herself in, she found her roommate wasn't back yet. She put down her bag and went into the back room. Wat was sprawled across the bed, his legs and feet up against the wall, his head hanging over the side. He turned toward her. His coat was unb.u.t.toned and wrinkled.

"h.e.l.lo, Wat," she said. "Where's Gabby?"