Queen of the Sylphs (32 page)

Iyala grinned. “I don’t know all the details”—the twinkle in her eye showed that she could guess—“but it seems Cherry took him to her room and convinced him of the benefits of staying. I understand they were quite noisy. They could hear them downstairs in the tavern.”

Gabralina giggled, her hands rising to cover her blushing face. Nelson shook his head ruefully and headed to the table.

Autumn smiled. “Good,” she said. “Now that I’m here, I won’t be able to give him what he wants. I’m glad it turned out well for him, like it has for me.”

Gabralina eyed her uncertainly. “This place is good for you?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Pleased, she supposed. Wat’s death was still hard, but having Autumn around was helping. And the guilt was dwindling. Yes, Autumn was a sylph as much as Wat, but she was a healer not a battler, and their personalities were hugely different. Autumn wasn’t in competition the way Fhranke would have been. That, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to handle. She felt no lust for Autumn, just friendship, and she was able to make the distinction between their relationships.

She’d never have to be alone again. That was all Gabralina ever wanted in life, at least at the start. Autumn’s calm acceptance of everything helped as well.

A distant chime sounded, echoing through the house. The children started shouting, and several of them bolted out of the room. Gabralina glanced around in curiosity.

“Company,” Nelson explained.

“How odd,” Iyala murmured. She didn’t look alarmed—not until the children came back, still shouting.

Gabralina stared in horror. Sala was there, leaning heavily against Claw and holding a cloth wrapped around her outstretched hand. Her face was tight with pain, and the cloth red with blood.

She hadn’t seen Sala since Wat died. She’d been hurt by that, by the feeling of abandonment and betrayal, but she tempered that with fairness. How hard would it have been to go see Sala if it were Claw who’d been lost? What would she have said to her friend, how could she possibly console her? Gabralina tried hard to remember that and not think badly of her friend, and succeeding she hurried over, her hands fluttering before her in fright.

“You’re hurt! What happened?”

“I was cutting food and the knife slipped,” Sala gasped. When Iyala pressed a fresh cloth over the old one, she winced in pain. “Claw said that the healer was here?”

Gabralina started, and Iyala tapped her shoulder. “Let your sylph help her,” she murmured.

Oh. “Autumn?” Gabralina turned.

Autumn stepped forward. Both she and Claw were unruffled, even as the humans in the room were frantic. She reached forward and laid her hands gently over Sala’s wound, pulling the blood-soaked cloths off and trailing her fingers down the length of the wound. The long knife cut closed.

Sala relaxed as the bleeding stopped, still leaning back against Claw. Gabralina watched curiously while Autumn finished and carefully turned Sala’s hand over, examining it. The sylph looked up at Claw, who stood quietly behind her, and reached out to lay a hand against his cheek. The battler’s eyelids fluttered shut.

Sala straightened, stumbled a step, and forced Claw to move back, breaking the contact between the two. “Thank you!” she enthused. “Lucky for me you’re here.” She addressed Gabralina. “You must feel so grateful.”

“I suppose,” Gabralina said. “I . . . I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

Sala hesitated. Then she stepped forward and gave Gabralina an awkward hug. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say.”

It was embarrassing, somehow, and still neither of them knew what to say. Gabralina cast about, trying desperately to think of a new topic of conversation.

“Claw looks good,” she said at last. “He seems a lot calmer.” The battler wasn’t fidgeting the way he used to, instead standing motionless behind his master, staring over her shoulder at the wall.

“Yes.” Sala smiled. “I’ve been working quite hard with him.”

“Can you stay and visit for a while?” Iyala asked.

Sala shook her head. “Oh, I’d love to, but I was thinking while I came over here.” She eyed Gabralina again. “How would you feel about taking—Autumn is it?—over to see Leon? Just for a checkup. I know that poor dear Betha has been worried sick about him, even with everything that’s already been done. I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

“Oh!” Gabralina started. She hadn’t thought of that. How selfish! “Do you mind?” she asked Autumn.

“No,” the sylph replied. “Of course not.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sala said. “I’m quite eager to see how he’s doing myself.”

Leon slowly made his way down the stairs, one hand on the railing and Nali at his side trying to help but mostly getting in his way. Mia went ahead of them, sliding down the steps on her backside and looking back constantly.

“Don’t fall,” he cautioned her.

“Not gonna,” she replied. “Nope. Mama said to bring you to dinner.”

“I know,” he said. They reached the bottom of the stairs, and he straightened wearily. “Thanks, Nali.”

She beamed.

Cara stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway. “He’s here!” she screamed.

“I’m not deaf, Cara,” Betha protested.

Leon smiled faintly and walked into the kitchen, worn out by the simple acts of climbing out of bed, putting on a robe, and walking down the hall and stairs. The healer had removed his injuries, but he’d wasted away during his coma, losing enough weight that he suspected his daughters might outweigh him; and he had no strength left. At least he was still alive, he told himself, wondering if this was what it felt like to get old.

A circular table took up half of the room, and he and his two young daughters walked to it while Cara rejoined her mother at the stove. Ralad was already seated, carefully pouring milk into glasses, the first of which she presented to her father like a benediction.

“Thank you,” Leon told her and sat.

Betha turned, a skillet of cooked ham in hand. Just the sight of it made Leon nauseated. His stomach was so shrunken he wasn’t sure he could eat solid food without vomiting.

“Go get Lizzy,” she told Ralad.

“But I wanna stay with Daddy!”

“Go, Ralad.”

Muttering, the girl ran outside. The back door banged behind her as she raced across the garden, shouting for her sister.

Betha doled out pork along with boiled vegetables and potatoes onto plates for the family. To Leon’s relief, she presented him with a bowl of chicken broth and noodles.

“Thanks,” he told her. “I wasn’t sure I could handle the other.”

She smiled lovingly and kissed the top of his head. “There’s not much point in cooking anything you’re just going to bring up all over the floor.”

“Eewww!” Mia and Nali both chorused. Cara just smirked.

Leon sampled his soup, enervated just by the act of lifting the spoon. It tasted good, both mildly spiced and not too hot. He felt strength start to return to his muscles.

The back door banged open, Ralad running back in, and she was followed a moment later by Lizzy. His oldest daughter gripped his shoulder as she passed, beaming down at Leon with an expression of love before hugging her mother and taking a seat.

Her hand was replaced by a larger one, and Leon looked up to see Ril. The battler was in uniform, though the top buttons were undone. His face was impassive, but Leon could feel his emotions. Ril hadn’t tried to hide them in years, and right now he projected them deliberately. They were things he would never say aloud.

Leon reached up with his free hand and clasped Ril’s, reflecting his own love back.

I’m okay, Ril,
he sent.

Liar.

Ril let go and went to the sink to wash the cook pots. It was one of his little ways of keeping the peace between himself and Betha, to make up some for how much she had to share.

The family chattered happily, though Betha tried to keep the volume down. Ril cleaned the kitchen around them, his emotions quietly content.

Leon ate, enjoying the broth and the company. He still felt restless, his mind turning away from his family. He’d been attacked, hit on the head and pushed down those stairs. It was a miracle he’d survived, but that wasn’t the important part. Why had he been attacked? He thought everything through, spooning broth into his mouth, his eyes half-closed.

Justin had been a murderer, using his control over Ril to cause pain to other battlers in retaliation for Ril stealing Lizzy. He’d poisoned Rachel to hurt Claw. He’d killed Galway to hurt Heyou. He’d nearly killed Moreena to hurt Dillon. The Widow Blackwell had been next according to the diary, an attack on Mace. All of these were Ril’s closest battler friends. That hadn’t been enough, so Justin ordered Ril to poison himself and thereby given himself away.

But, Justin was dead now, so who had pushed him down the stairs? Leon wondered. The common consensus was that it had been Wat. But, why? And why
push
him? A battler could do so much worse. Which was why it was strange to think he’d tried to smother him later. He could have just turned the entire house into a crater, like Claw had done to Justin.

Why had Wat wanted him dead in the first place? And, why had Leon ordered Ril to go to the other side of the town and change shape? Why tell him to hide his pain? Ordered? He hadn’t asked Ril but ordered him. Why had he given Ril an order when he’d sworn he wouldn’t do that unless absolutely necessary? Leon stared at his battler’s back while Ril scrubbed pots, his tired mind churning far too slowly for his liking.

A knock sounded, and Ril looked up, abruptly tense. Just as suddenly he was calm again, and he left the room to answer the front door.

“I wonder who that is,” Betha said. She smiled. “We’re eating a little late, but I wanted to let you sleep.”

Leon smiled back. “Thanks, sweetheart. I guess people might be a little curious. Even at this hour.”

She sighed. “I know, but I really didn’t want anyone to bother us for a few days.”

Ril returned, walking side by side with Claw. The formerly blue-haired battler gave everyone in the room blank stares. His uniform was wrinkled, the buttons at the neck undone. He moved with Ril toward the back wall, where they stood, neither sylph looking at the other. They might be talking, or equally possibly they were doing nothing. Leon wasn’t sure which, but he sensed Ril was a little worried.

Behind them, Gabralina entered. She was with Sala and the short-haired healer who’d saved him.

While the women in the room greeted one another, Lizzy giving Gabralina a warm hug and Sala a nod, the healer approached and laid her hands on Leon’s shoulders. He was surprised to feel better. A lot better.

“I thought you already healed me,” he said.

She looked at him and shrugged.

Leon took a moment to process. No longer wearing the too-large dress, the healer now wore clothing that fit her properly, and she was a beautiful enough woman, if not when compared to her master. There was a serene intelligence in her eyes.

“There’s always more that can be done gradually,” the sylph said.

Luck had never subscribed to that philosophy. Her own master was the only one she healed more than once. Leon considered, ignoring the chattering women as he glanced over at his battle sylph, still standing with Claw.

“Could you heal Ril?” he asked.

She regarded the battler critically. “Not completely,” she said at last. “I can’t restore what isn’t there. But I should be able to improve on what he has left. It’ll take some time.”

Leon smiled, pleased. Ril had lost much. If they could get him to the point where he could change shape without pain again, where he could go to his natural form without the help of a healer, that would be enough.

Sala stepped forward. “Good evening, Chancellor. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Leon started to say, but Gabralina darted in to hug him.

“I’m so glad you’re all right!” She leaped back, blushing.

Leon smiled at both women. “I’m fine, ladies. Thanks for coming.”

“Do you know who hurt you yet?” Gabralina asked. “Or why my poor Wat . . . did what he did?” Her voice cracked a bit at the end. Over by the wall, Claw looped an arm around Ril’s neck.

Leon patted Gabralina’s hand. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened that day.”

“You don’t remember
anything?
” Sala asked.

Leon sighed. “I’m afraid not. I wish I did.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that, Chancellor.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, though he didn’t have much hope. “I’m sure it’ll come back.”

The woman nodded in agreement, and Claw lifted his chin. His arm tightened around Ril’s neck, his fist locking before the blonde battler’s throat.

Ril stiffened suddenly, pulling away from Claw. Leon thought it was in annoyance, but a moment later the back door slammed open and Heyou ran in. He headed straight for Gabralina’s sylph.

“Hurry!” he wailed. “Solie’s having the baby!”

Chapter Twenty-four

Solie had poked with disinterest at her plate, not really interested in eating. Her back and feet ached, and she couldn’t even pull herself up to the table, much as she wanted to. She was carrying the baby completely in front.

“I am so sick of being pregnant,” she moaned.

Sitting across from her, Heyou nodded. “Yeah. There’s not nearly enough sex during it.”

Solie glared at him fondly. He had been truly shocked by her loss of desire, but how could she possibly think about sex when she felt like a bloated cow? “I gather you’re hoping I don’t want any more children after this.”

He tilted his head from side to side, thoughtful. “Dunno. Nelson said if you do want more babies, he’ll do the donating. Said it should stay in the family.”

Solie blinked, surprised. She hadn’t seen much of Nelson. Heyou was a little paranoid about his safety after Galway. He fed from his new master on a daily basis, but their relationship was secret. Everyone in the Valley just thought he went there to reminisce. Even the other battlers.

Heyou was pleased with the young man as his new master. Nelson as the father of her children, though, wasn’t something Solie had considered. She did want more, regardless of how miserable her pregnancy was making her, but finding the donor would be tricky. Devon hadn’t been given a choice, and it wasn’t looking like he were coming home anytime soon. Despite all of the horrible things that happened when he arrived, he’d found a home in Meridal—and from the sound of his letters, a new love. He also showed no desire to be a father to her child, which was likely why Heyou chose him in the first place.