The Shattered Sylph

by L. J. McDonald

  Now, though it took her weeks of begging her mother, there were no parents in sight and she was almost on her own. Giggling, she and her friend Loren hurried down the sidewalk that led to the docks, Loren’s water sylph, Shore, hurrying at her side and holding her mistress’s hand. Shore was getting good at mimicking human shape, and she looked like a pretty realistic little girl, if a bit wetter than normal. Three blocks behind, the rest of the group that had come to the city with the two girls were still unloading wagons.

  “They’re going to be so mad at us,” Loren sniggered. “Did you see Daton’s face when we ran off?”

  “He was furious!” Lizzy agreed. She was a little nervous of what their ostensible chaperon would say when they returned, and she truly didn’t want her mother to find out, after all of her promises to behave, but mostly she was too giddy to care. She was eighteen and legally an equal to any man in Sylph Valley, if not here. And even if Daton reported this to her parents, her mother would only yell at her for so long. Her father had left months ago with Ril. Lizzy was still angry at that. She’d begged to go along, but Leon and his sylph weren’t as easy to wear down as her mother, and they’d refused. She’d argued until she was almost blue in the face, but neither her father nor Ril would budge. So, she’d had to stay behind. She hadn’t forgiven either one of them yet.

  Well, she was having an adventure now. With Loren at her side, Lizzy ran through the strange city, marveling at the sights and the sloping roads. Para Dubh had been built on a hill by human hands, unlike how things were built by sylphs in the Valley, and the roads zigzagged down to the ocean.

  Neither had seen the ocean before, and after Shore’s reaction, both girls immediately chose the docks as their first destination. The little water sylph had been struck dumb by the sight of all that salt water, and it was their duty to take her to see everything up close, they decided. The others could unload the wagon. It was just a single load of iron ore, sent as a gift to the ruling family of Para Dubh as part of a trade agreement—and to test the people bringing it. Except for Daton, everyone who’d come was under the age of twenty.

  Loren had the only sylph. Usually, responsible adults were the only ones allowed to have sylphs, but Loren had been chosen after her water sylph’s first master died. Loren had been fourteen at the time and was almost twenty now, making her close to two years older than Lizzy, but the girl was so immature that Lizzy doubted she would ever have been selected for a sylph if the decision hadn’t been left up to Shore.

  Ahead of them the road zigged, the side that faced the ocean fronted by a waist-high wall of cobbled stone. For a moment the two girls leaned on it and looked out over the beautiful old city, the rooftops covered in gardens and the spaces in between filled with walls, statues, and strips of park. Neither had ever seen anything like it, and they stopped to regain their wind, confident that they were far enough away from Daton that he couldn’t just call them back.

  “I love it here,” Loren breathed, turning her face into the salty breeze that blew over them even this high up. It brought the scent of flowers, as well as salt and fish. Beside her, Shore turned in the same direction, smiling. She didn’t say anything—not so that Lizzy could hear—but Loren smiled down at her.

  “We’ll start moving again in a minute. It’s not going anywhere.”

  “I wish I could hear her,” Lizzy said.

  “You have to be her master,” Loren replied smugly, which was an attitude Lizzy always hated. Loren thought she was better than other girls because she had a sylph. It made Lizzy want to point out the fact that her father’s battler Ril had told her he loved her and that she was his queen. He’d said it many times.

  But that wouldn’t help any. “Solie’s the queen,” Loren would taunt, and though battlers were crudely known for their single-minded ability to both fight and fuck, Ril was not. The joke around the Valley—told only where her father could never hear—was that Ril had been turned into a eunuch by his injury. He certainly hadn’t looked at her since he was hurt, Lizzy thought bitterly. Except once.

  “We should get going,” Lizzy told her friend instead. “It looks like it’s a ways off.”

  Loren made a face, but both of them were used to a lot of walking: to school and back, to the fields and back…Sylph Valley had more sylphs than any other kingdom in the world, but they weren’t slaves. Humans had to carry their own weight, and both girls had picked more corn and fruit and planted more seeds than they ever would have liked. This on top of tending the family garden, chickens, and horses. Lizzy’s father told her it was good for her. Not that he ever joined in, though she’d sometimes seen him help with the heavier work.

  Of course, this year he and Ril had missed the entire planting. Lizzy herself got to miss half, thanks to this trip.

  The two girls ran down the steep road, Shore keeping up easily and all of them laughing as they darted around street musicians and performers, groups of old women dressed in black and men carrying heavy baskets on their shoulders. There was nothing like this back home, and they reveled at the sights, smells, and sounds. If either of the pair had had any money, they would have spent it tasting everything.

  But they didn’t. Instead, they just stuck to the road, following it down along switchbacks that passed homes hidden behind tall stone walls with wrought-iron gates, and then past shops filled with myriad objects neither girl had ever imagined. And the buildings only grew more common, spaced closer together on the level ground before the water, homes and other shops replaced by markets specializing in fish. The girls clasped hands, hoping not to lose each other in the suddenly thick crowd, and Lizzy looked behind her for a landmark along the road they’d taken down. They could just follow it back up to where they’d left the others.

  She found a marker easily enough: a statue of a man on a rearing horse, beneath a streetlight with a glass bowl over an oil lamp. Trotting under it, however, already seeing her and waving madly, was a tall, lanky boy barely older than herself, his jaggedly cut hair hanging in his eyes.

  “Justin?” Lizzy gasped.

  Loren turned. “What is he doing here?”

  Looking for her, no doubt, Lizzy realized with a little flutter she couldn’t decide was excitement or irritation. Justin was the son of Cal Porter, one of the Valley’s original drovers and—as he liked to keep reminding everyone—the one who’d first brought Solie and Heyou to the Community. Cal was also very vocal about the idea that his nineteen-year-old son would make the perfect husband for Lizzy Petrule, ever since Lizzy was caught giving him a kiss at the harvest dance when she was sixteen. It was the only time he’d kissed her, however, and it had probably only happened thanks to lots of hard apple cider and her own frustrations—and it wasn’t the only kiss she’d received that long night.

  He’d been wooing her ever since, in his awkward, shy way. For her part, Lizzy wasn’t sure what to think. She liked Justin. He was honest and friendly, completely incompetent at lying to anyone, and he never gave up on her, even when she snubbed him or joked about him to her friends, or when she skipped out on dates their mothers arranged, laughing at him when he looked crestfallen. He just kept trying, and in the last year she’d stopped laughing at him and skipping out on their dates. She was even wondering when he might have the nerve to try and kiss her again…and if she’d let him.

  Part of the reason she’d come on this trip, though, was to get away from most everyone she knew. She’d thought it would help her decide what she wanted to do with her life. Her dreams from when she was twelve and thirteen hadn’t come true, and she wanted to go somewhere she could reflect on life and maybe learn to look at Justin with fresh eyes. Only he’d come along, and now here he was again. Part of her was glad to see him, but the other part was terribly angry.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted when he got close.

  Justin, who had been grinning, skidded to a nervous halt, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I followed you. Daton said no one was supposed to be alone here.”


  “Do I look like I’m alone?” she groused, facing away from him with her hands on her hips.

  She was tall, but Justin still towered over her. “But you’re both girls,” he protested, and winced as he realized what he’d said. Lizzy and Loren both glared at him. Even Shore frowned, her eyebrows drawn together. She was dripping on the ground, Lizzy noticed absently.

  “Don’t call me a girl,” Loren snapped, and made a face at Lizzy. “I’m not staying with him.” Turning, she headed for the closest dock, which stretched out over the water, small ships and longboats pulled up to either side. Men were frantically busy loading and unloading gear and fish and shouting at each other. Loren made her way through this, leading Shore.

  Lizzy eyed Justin. He seemed miserable. He hadn’t meant to offend anyone, she knew, but sometimes he just blurted out the worst things possible. Usually it was only when someone else was nearby. When he was alone with her, he was much more confident.

  “You’re lucky a battler didn’t hear you say that,” she complained, still a bit angry at him for following. He sagged even more. Most of the world still considered women second-class citizens, but the battlers in the Valley got very cranky at such treatment. No one had died yet for anything they’d said, but everyone had learned to keep sexist opinions to themselves.

  Still, Lizzy couldn’t hold on to her anger for long. Justin meant well, and she and Loren running off hadn’t been terribly smart, even if Loren was supposed to be old enough to be responsible. Of course, if Loren were, Lizzy thought, she wouldn’t still be hanging out with girls in their teens.

  “I’m sorry,” Justin said.

  She sighed, turning and slowly heading down the dock after Loren and Shore. “It’s okay, but I told you that I wanted some time to myself.”

  “I know. It’s not really safe here, though,” he replied. “Daton told me to come after you.”

  She should have known. There was always someone around to make sure she was being a good girl. If it wasn’t her father, it was Daton, or Justin in Daton’s place. Lizzy had to bite down on her anger before she started yelling again. It wasn’t really Justin’s fault. She supposed she should be glad they trusted her alone with him—though really, that was just one more thing to be annoyed about: they weren’t afraid of her being alone with Justin at all.

  In her mother’s mind, Lizzy suspected, the marriage was already fixed. It would have been, she was sure, if Queen Solie hadn’t banned arranged marriages entirely. At least no one could make her marry someone she didn’t want, though they’d hint endlessly. She shot a sideways look at Justin where he flanked her, looking around with the same wonder she herself had been feeling until now. She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to be married to anyone. Not yet.

  Marriage. Loren would tell her to haul Justin out behind the barn and get any itches scratched and then not worry about it, but Loren was the sort to haul nearly anyone out behind the barn. She’d even told Lizzy that she’d seduced battlers. Lizzy wasn’t so sure of that. Loren had never actually named any battler she’d been with, and for all their reputation, they were supposedly loyal to their masters. And from what Lizzy had heard about their appetites, they might be more than even Loren could handle. Of course, Lizzy didn’t expect to ever know what they were truly like.

  “Have you seen the ocean before?” she asked Justin, by way of apology.

  Justin shook his head emphatically. “It’s unbelievable. And it smells!”

  Her anger gone, Lizzy laughed at that, and she daringly reached out to take his hand. Justin squeezed hers and beamed. Perhaps his following them wouldn’t turn out to be so bad after all.

  They walked down the long dock, their boots making a clomping sound on the wood. It was wide, but still they had to step around stacks of goods or men trying to unload the boats. There was shouting and curses, and Lizzy stared about her, seeing skins of a dozen different colors and clothes she never would have imagined, even as she had to nearly dance out of the workers’ paths. She saw tall men, short men, dark-skinned men, and pale men. She saw men with tattoos over all or parts of their bodies, and some with more jewelry than the vainest woman. Others were completely hairless. She giggled and clutched Justin’s hand tighter, dragging him along as she hurried to catch Loren and Shore.

  The older girl stood at the very end of the dock, Shore crouched nearby, as though she was contemplating a leap into the water, while her master flirted with a man in loose, flowing clothes. He was bare chested and had tattoos curling around his torso and up his arms to encircle his neck. He grinned down at Loren in a way that made the hair on Lizzy’s neck rise, and she stopped a few feet away, not sure what to do.

  “Maybe I did come here to find someone like you,” Loren was telling him, tapping his chest flirtatiously with a finger. Behind her, Shore got ready to jump, but her master grabbed her shoulder without even looking. “We certainly don’t have anyone quite like you back home.”

  “And where’s home then?” he leered, his intentions as obvious as a battler’s. The way he pronounced his words was strange to Lizzy’s ears.

  “Sylph Valley,” she told him. “Just over the mountains. That way.” She made a vague gesture, still smiling.

  “Really?” the man asked. His eyebrows rose, and his shipmates, who’d been unloading a longboat nearly twenty feet in length while he flirted, looked over curiously at her announcement. Lizzy felt the tension in the air change from sexual to something else.

  Shore glanced up, her mouth hanging open. Loren didn’t sense it at all and fluttered her eyelashes at the sailor. “Of course. Why would I lie to you?”

  “Sylph Valley,” he repeated. “The place with all the battlers?” He frowned. “You didn’t bring one, did you?” He looked over at Lizzy and Justin, his eyes cold.

  Lizzy’s hand tightened on Justin’s, which was getting clammy. She’d been hoping for help, but he simply stepped back, pulling her arm to its full extension when she didn’t retreat with him. She couldn’t move. Something was horribly wrong, and Loren couldn’t see it.

  “Of course not,” she told the sailor smugly. “I prefer real men.”

  He grinned. “Good.”

  Of all of them, Shore moved first. Squealing, the little sylph grabbed her mistress, shedding her fake human form as she wrapped watery tendrils around Loren and then threw them both backward over the edge of the dock. Lizzy saw the surprise on Loren’s face before they went underwater with a tremendous splash. The man with the tattoos closed his arms on the empty air where she’d been and then rounded on Lizzy and Justin in a rage.

  “Grab them!” he shouted. “You know what they’re worth!”

  Justin fled. Dropping Lizzy’s hand, he turned and ran up the dock, screaming hysterically. Surprised fishermen watched him go, unintentionally blocking his pursuers and even Lizzy’s own escape. Furious, she kicked one of the tattooed man’s cronies in the knee when he lunged at her, and darted in the other direction. She had no idea if she could swim, but she planned to find out.

  She wasn’t fast enough. A step shy of the dock edge, the man with whom Loren had been flirting caught her around the waist, pulling her back against his wide chest. Lizzy screamed, kicking and bucking madly, but her father had never taught her how to fight. In Sylph Valley, there were so many battlers, there was no need. None of those could hear her screams this far away, though, and the nearby fishermen just stared at her uncertainly. A few looked as if they wanted to say something, but the tattooed man and his crew pulled knives, grinning at them dangerously.

  The sailor carried Lizzy to his boat, ignoring her struggles. She managed to get an arm free and punched him in the ear, but he only glared at her and threw her into the longboat. She fell across a seat, all the breath rushing out of her, and the craft rocked from her impact and that of the men piling into it. One of them sat right beside her, a hand gripping the back of her neck painfully and holding her down across the board while their leader shouted for them to push off and forget the rest
of the cargo—she was more valuable. Lizzy had no idea what for.

  In pain and terrified, she started to sob, crying for someone to come and save her, but there was no one to hear and no one to come, and the longboat pulled away from the dock, heading out into the open ocean, where the great ships of a dozen different kingdoms were anchored. The men who’d captured her started to laugh, and all she could do was stare at the curved floor of the boat, unable even to look up and see if anyone was watching her abduction.

  Chapter Three

  For six years, ever since the first day she ran away from home to avoid an arranged marriage, Solie had lived a life apart. The adventure had led her into the arms of a battle sylph and away from everything she’d ever known, in order to become a queen. She recognized how lucky she was, though, and how easily everything could have been so much different. Worse.

  Her battle sylph, Heyou, felt that renewed realization in her, and also her horror and outrage as she sensed that he was ready to attack the messengers standing before her simply because of the message they’d brought and how it made her feel.

  She reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him beside her until he made himself relax. “Do you know where they took her?” she asked, leaning forward on the great stone chair the earth sylphs had made for her throne. They’d carved it intricately, turning it into a shape as delicately lacy as a snowflake, and she’d piled pillows on top to make it comfortable. One of these tumbled to the ground, but she didn’t notice, staring at the group who stood at the foot of the throne’s small dais. Solie didn’t want anyone bowing to her.