“A horse?”
Leon prayed for patience. “An animal like the one Gabralina was riding. The black horse with the white nose. Turn into that animal.”
“Why?”
“Because she needs a horse to ride. I’ll be riding Ril. See him? He’s already like a horse.”
“He’s not black with a white nose.”
Leon clenched his hands. “It doesn’t matter what color you are.”
“Then why’d you ask me to be a black horse with a white nose?”
“What’s wrong with Ril?” Gabralina spoke up, apparently distracted from her sulk. “Is he sick?”
Leon took a deep breath. “No. Changing shape is hard for him. He’s sleeping.”
She frowned. “Wat doesn’t sleep.”
“Wat doesn’t need to,” he explained. “He’s a very healthy battler. Ril isn’t. He doesn’t like that pointed out, though,” he added.
“Oh. So Wat is stronger?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Which means he should have no trouble turning into a horse, no matter what the color.”
“Why?” Wat asked again.
“Because you turned our horses into dust, and it’s too far for Gabralina and me to walk!”
“How come Ril is weaker than Wat?” Gabralina asked.
The girl asked more questions than a child, but that was probably just another sign of her fear. She didn’t seem to know how to relate to Leon at all, except by whining and questioning. After two and a half weeks of her company, however, Leon knew that failing to provide some form of answer would just make her ask more questions as she started fearing he didn’t like her. The people of Yed had likely picked her for a sacrifice just to shut her up, he’d decided. Ril was in full agreement with that assessment: he loathed the girl. Leon didn’t feel quite that strongly, but if he wanted to answer an endless round of questions, he only had to go see his three-year-old daughter Mia. She asked so many questions that his wife Betha had sworn off having any more children. And Mia at least could be put down for a nap.
“He was hurt once,” Leon answered, hoping that would be enough. “Wat, please, just turn into a horse.”
“How?” Gabralina asked, and eyed Wat worriedly. “I thought they couldn’t get hurt.”
Leon sighed. His head was starting to throb. “He was torn through his body in his natural form by another battler. They’re very vulnerable in that form. He would have died if a healer sylph hadn’t saved him.”
“That’s terrible,” Gabralina whispered, teary eyed. “Won’t he get better?”
“No,” Leon said. “Can we get back on topic now? Please?”
She shook herself. “Okay. Wat, I’d love it if you were a horsie.”
He gazed at her adoringly. “Anything you want.” An instant later he was a chubby black horse, only without a white nose. Gabralina squealed in delight and started to direct him in how to perfect his form.
Leon left them and trudged over to Ril. He didn’t know if his battler had heard his name, but Ril was awake, rolled onto his belly with his legs tucked under him. Seeing Leon, he lunged to his feet.
Leon put a hand on the sylph’s warm neck. “That girl is going to be the death of me,” he muttered, pressing his face against soft hide. Ril whickered gently, and Leon looped an arm around his neck and relaxed, leaning against him.
When he was calm and paying attention, he could tell when Ril was drinking his energy. He could feel that sensation now: a faint pulling deep inside him that made his heart start to beat faster but otherwise wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Ril didn’t take much. He couldn’t absorb as much as he used to, and even that had never been particularly noticeable. Leon didn’t know how the battlers could draw so little and do so much with it, but they did. What was just spare strength in him was everything for Ril, and so he stood there patiently, letting the contact be as easy as possible.
Eventually, Ril stepped away, his eyes brighter as he tossed his mane. He looked back at Leon and pawed at the dirt, clearly eager to be off.
“You and me both,” Leon said.
He stepped around to the left. Grabbing Ril’s mane with one hand, he levered himself onto the sylph’s back. Ril snorted but otherwise stood steady. “Tell me if this starts to bother you,” Leon cautioned him. They’d never tried this before, but neither of them had seen any horses for sale along their journey. Nor did they want to risk taking Wat and Gabralina into a town.
With hands on his neck, Leon turned Ril with gentle nudges of his knees. Ril obeyed willingly enough, though his tail flicked up periodically to smack his master. Leon had to smile. “Just imagine how sore my ass is going to be from sitting on your spine by the end of the day,” he assured the battler. Ril gave a horsey laugh.
They’d have to stick to back trails, he realized. Horses being ridden without bridles would be noticed. But as he looked up, he blanched. Gabralina was now proudly sitting sidesaddle on a tall, elegant, magnificently white horse that glowed from his silver hooves to his silken, ground-length mane—and to the point of the pearlescent spiral horn rising out of his forehead.
“Oh, for the love of the gods!” he snapped. His headache was back.
Lizzy huddled in a tiny cage in the bowels of the ship to which she’d been brought, seasick and terrified. Goats bleated in other cages while chickens clucked, all of them protesting the up-and-down motion of the ship, and also the darkness. Her abductors hadn’t even left a single lamp for her to see by. Crouched in a corner, she kept her arms wrapped around her knees and sobbed, unable to help it.
She’d never been so frightened in her life, not even when the battler that nearly killed Ril broke into the chamber where she and everyone else were hiding. She’d seen his mad eyes glaring right at her before Heyou tackled him, saving her life. She’d had nightmares of that moment for six years, afraid of the battler coming back. Whenever they became especially bad, she’d sneak out of her bed and across town to the chamber where the battle sylphs rested. They didn’t usually sleep, but they’d socialize in there, floating together in a great mass of intertwined clouds and light. Lizzy went there and slept in a corner, feeling safe under the weight of their silent protection. She wanted to be there now, wanted it so badly that it was an ache inside her.
“Ril,” she whimpered, wanting him to come to her rescue, but Ril was her father’s battler, not hers. “Daddy,” she whispered instead. “Oh, Daddy.”
The ship surged, riding up onto a wave, and Lizzy’s stomach heaved, though she had no food or water to bring up. Her captors fed her, but only once a day, and the water they brought her three times a day was already drunk. She’d tried not to swallow it all, but she’d been so thirsty that she hadn’t been able to help herself.
On the deck above, she distantly heard sailors hurrying back and forth, shouting to each other as they worked. Part of her wanted one of them to come down, just so she could see another person, but another part of her dreaded it. The men had been ordered not to rape her—an intact woman brought a better price on the block—but a few had looked as though they were willing to reimburse the captain for a shot at her.
Lizzy buried her face against her knees. She was going to be sold, turned into a slave for her blonde hair and her virginity, but most important, for her knowledge of the battlers in Sylph Valley. The ship’s captain knew about them and how Solie had frightened the leaders of the world, and he was sure he could get a good price selling her for information. He wouldn’t have bothered otherwise, he’d told her grimly. He wouldn’t be able to revisit Para Dubh for a long time, thanks to their views on slavery, but it would be worth it for the coin she’d bring. A thousand gold pieces he’d ask for the secret of the battlers!
She wept, wishing she were home. Worst was, she knew the secret. She knew why the battlers in the Valley were so common and willing. No one was supposed to talk about it…but how could she expect to hide it if they tortured her?
The bars of her cage were cold. Finally, she knew how Ril h
ad felt when she was a child, trapped as he’d been in the shape of a bird, not allowed to speak, not allowed to act, only able to communicate with her by pushing lettered blocks together to form words. He’d told her he loved her!
Lizzy wept, wishing he were there—and that, sometime over the years, he hadn’t changed his mind.
Chapter Five
The road led around the edge of the wasteland, hugging the mountains that separated Sylph Valley from the kingdom of Para Dubh, but there was still nothing alive on either side, save gray scrub plants or the occasional lizard. Plodding interminably onward, the group reached Sylph Valley after dark, while the moon was still climbing in the sky. The town itself was at the other end, near the small lake the basin boasted. Other than that, there were only a few crofters dotted through the rest of the landscape, set close to the herds or the fields their owners tended.
Gabralina had wanted to stop at dusk, but with them so close to home Ril had refused and just kept trudging, though his head hung low with fatigue. The blonde girl—now mounted on a Wat who at least looked like a normal horse—had been given no choice but to follow, jabbering nervously all the way about what she was going to do if no one there liked her.
“Quiet up and you’ll be sleeping in a real bed tonight,” Leon told her sharply. His butt was just as sore as he’d predicted, but he kept that to himself. He could almost smell home and his family. His need to see them was overwhelming. He’d be home. It had been months.
“Really?” Gabralina asked, perking up. “You promise?”
“Yes. Now hurry. Just another few miles and we’ll be in town.” Leon lifted his head into the breeze, imagining that he could almost smell the wheat and corn growing in the fields and hear the lowing of the cattle, and he tightened his knees against Ril’s ribs, conveying his eagerness to be home. The battler’s ear flicked and he broke into an easy canter, moving quickly down the wide road that earth sylphs had molded out of the broken rock of the plains.
Behind them, Gabralina yelped and called for Wat to catch up. Hooves sounded on stone, and the white horse reappeared. The blonde girl had swung her leg over his back, riding him astride, and her face was lit up as her hair streamed out behind her.
She’d never done anything before but sit placidly on Wat’s back, or on the back of the gelding before that, but Leon could tell she’d ridden at some point in her past by the way she held his mane like reins, urging him forward. Wat cantered past Leon and Ril, his nostrils flaring with excitement. In response, Ril’s ear twitched again and he snorted.
Recognizing what was going on, Leon sank his hands into his battler’s mane, getting a solid grip there and with his knees. “Don’t overdo it,” he whispered, already knowing he’d be ignored. Ril broke into a gallop, racing furiously after the other two. He passed them in an instant and galloped ahead, his hooves like thunder upon the ground.
Leon had to laugh at the look of surprise on the girl’s face. “That’s not fair!” she wailed, and Wat screamed, immediately doubling his pace.
The two battlers charged forward, galloping neck and neck across the stone. Leon leaned close to Ril, chuckling in his ear. “I didn’t know you could run so fast!” The battler just snorted and redoubled his efforts, pulling ahead of Wat by a few feet.
Gabralina was wildly kicking her heels, and her sylph roared and pulled abreast of Leon and Ril again, then passed them a second time. Ril forced himself to make up the distance, and the two once more ran neck and neck.
Faster than any living horses, the pair flew down the road. It curved and bent, and then dipped tremendously down. Deep and huge, the valley proper stretched farther than Leon could see in the moonlight, but he could spot the lights of the town on the far side, single glows from lone farm dwellings shining closer. The two battlers hit the crest and leaped, landing on the sloping road, their bodies stretching out as they raced toward their destination, their hoofbeats echoing through the night. The moonlight was nearly gone in the shadow of the Valley, but Leon didn’t worry about either mount losing his footing. Not these two.
Leaning close to Ril’s neck, he looked over at Gabralina. For the first time her face was alive and unafraid, her eyes gleaming and her smile huge. He hadn’t realized she could be anything but a chattering mouse. He didn’t mind the discovery. Her love of such sport was perhaps the only thing they shared.
Ril won at the last moment. Familiar with the layout of the town, he jigged off the road, hurtled a fence (and the man behind it, who’d been heading to the outhouse), took two strides, leaped the fence on the other side of the yard, and came out into the town square a full ten feet ahead of Gabralina. The look she gave him was thunderous. Leon would have laughed if she hadn’t also looked confused. Instead, he just gave her a smile and she blushed, turning her face away from him.
“You two cheated,” she decided.
“I wasn’t aware there were any rules,” Leon told her mildly, less concerned with her reaction than with what his battler had done to himself during that crazed run. He stroked Ril’s neck and hummed to him comfortingly, aware from the tingling along his arms that his battle sylph was already drawing from his energy.
Alerted by their noisy arrival, or more likely aware of the group from the moment they entered the Valley, three battlers in blue and gold dropped down into the street, eyeing them warily. Wat just stood there like an idiot. Behind him, men and a few women stepped curiously out of the tavern that doubled as the inn.
“Claw,” Leon called to one of the battlers. “Please get the queen. I’ll need to see her in her audience chamber as soon as Ril is settled.” The bizarrely blue-haired battler shivered and disappeared, flowing as smoke toward one of the air vents that fed into the underground section of the city and disappearing down it.
That finally got Wat’s attention. He stared after the vanished battler, his ears pricked up.
“Gabralina,” Leon called. She looked at him. “Welcome to Sylph Valley. I’d like you to take Wat to the queen’s audience chamber. She’ll be thrilled to meet you.” He nodded at one of the tavern serving girls. “Cherry, please take her there.”
“Where are you going?” Gabralina asked, clearly nervous all over again. She slid down from Wat’s back, and he shifted immediately back to human form. The battlers all tensed. Anywhere but here, they’d have attacked him already.
“I’ll be right back,” Leon assured her. “Promise.”
He could feel Ril trembling under him, but he nudged the sylph with his knees as though there was nothing wrong and trotted him around the corner. The instant they were out of sight, he was off the battler’s back and braced against him, helping to hold him up. “You ass,” he said. “Are you trying to run yourself into the ground?” When Ril shot him a venomous look, Leon shook his head. “Come on.”
He led the battler to a door set in a wall between two buildings. On the other side, steps descended into the complex that stretched under the town. It was a place where the entire population could retreat in harsh storms or if they were attacked. The way was lit by oil lamps that were always kept full, and Leon helped Ril down the stairway, which was wide enough for them both, though really too steep for either a human or a horse. In the corridor at the bottom he saw an earth sylph stomping toward them.
“Please get Luck,” he told the small creature, nodding at her. She regarded him from a genderless face made of mud and hurried off, not much faster than they.
Leon took Ril to a chamber that was right next to the queen’s throne room. He hadn’t wanted Gabralina to see it, or to bring Wat there. At any time, ten or more battle sylphs floated in the huge chamber, intertwined, and the arrival of an unfamiliar sylph in the heart of their home would likely have gone badly. He had no idea how many battlers were there now.
The chamber was a hundred feet across, the ceiling made of clear glass that actually reached aboveground and into the air, but which was currently obscured by a cloud of smoke and lightning. Myriad minds looked down on them,
and a few battlers drifted free, detaching to swarm Ril. He stepped away from Leon and walked farther into the chamber, enveloped by swirling energy.
Something shimmered behind him. Leon turned and saw a vaguely human shape enter the room, floating directly to Ril: Luck. She was the only healer they had, and she was Ril’s savior. She put her hands on him, and he changed painlessly, shifting to smoke and lightning.
He didn’t look complete somehow—his form seemed less substantial than the others, less there—but Luck soothed the transformation while the other battlers surrounded him, holding him within their mantles as they apparently would their own newborns. It was the only way Ril could take his own shape, and Leon felt his battler’s relief. Some of the other sylphs would stay with him while he slept, and when he woke Luck would change him back. It had been this way for the last six years, and would continue for as long as his battler lived.
“Sleep well, Ril,” Leon murmured and went to deal with his other responsibility.
Gabralina glanced around fearfully, holding one of Wat’s arms with both hands. The sylph had ignored Ril the entire trip, she supposed not recognizing either him or Leon as a threat, but he now watched the dozen battlers who stood around him, lip curled hatefully back from his teeth. It was the longest he’d gone without trying to feel her up, she realized, and tried to process the underground chamber to which she’d been brought. It was well lit by a fire sylph, had tables and chairs along the walls, and an ornate stone chair rose in the back. Gabralina had never seen anything so delicately beautiful.
“What is this place?” she whimpered.
Her guide, a far less attractive woman wearing an apron, shrugged. Her name was Cherry. “The queen’s throne room and audience chamber.”
“Do all these battlers have to be here?” They made her nervous.
The woman shrugged again. “They protect the queen. They’re kind of crazy that way. At least they obey her. She’s the only woman here to have one who isn’t ancient.” Cherry regarded Gabralina with vague disgruntlement. “Except for you. It’s not fair, you know.”
The Shattered Sylph Page 5