The Sylph Hunter

by L. J. McDonald

  She pressed against his neck, cool against his spine. I don’t like it down here, she said.

  “Neither do I,” Devon muttered. Xehm looked toward him and he jerked his chin over his shoulder. “Just talking to my sylph,” he explained. The old man nodded and returned to his thoughts, which from the tightness of his jaw didn’t seem to be peaceful. “You can get us up there?” Devon asked Airi.

  Yes. I’ll need to feed though. It’s hard work.

  Devon nodded. He’d expected that. Airi fed off his life energy, but it was rare she took enough that he was aware of it. He suspected he would this time. He looked at Shasha’s back as she stomped heavily along ahead of them. It was beautiful and bare, but the color and consistency of marble. “Why didn’t she call the battlers?” he asked Airi. Xehm shot another look in his direction, though of course, he wouldn’t be able to hear the answer.

  Airi’s answer was long and hesitant in coming. Because no matter what they would say, they can’t help, she said. They would have died too.

  Devon frowned, the thought of a battler being helpless too alien a concept for him to comprehend. “How can that be?” He’d seen battlers fight, far too many times. They were unstoppable, unless they were killed by another of their kind.

  Hunters are the invisible death, Airi told him. She sounded stressed. No one’s ever seen one. All we know is, if one comes, we die. No warning, no yelling for help, no trace. We just die. All the rest of us can do is hide in the hive and hope the food lasts long enough for the Hunter to go. It’s said even battlers can’t kill them.

  “So that’s why Shasha didn’t call them,” Devon murmured, watching the earth sylph lead the way.

  No. They come to where groups of us are. Worse, it hears us if we yell for help. It would have found Shasha if she called them. Killed them and found her.

  Devon closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he wasn’t here, that he hadn’t come, and most of all, that Zalia was with her father at his side so that he could make sure she was safe. “Where is the Hunter now?” he asked.

  I don’t know. Maybe it went back through the gate? She sounded hopeful.

  Devon thought of the harbor and that blood on the Racing Dawn, far away on the ocean side of the city. “Do you really think that?”

  No, she whimpered. I want to though.

  So did he. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured.

  Promise?

  “I promise.”

  They reached the end of the passageway then, the ruin of the cages beyond even more ominous now that Devon knew what sort of creature actually destroyed them. After whatever damage the battlers did, something huge had drilled its way up through the racks of cages. Shasha stopped at the edge, fidgeting as she looked out and upward.

  Devon could guess what had her so nervous. “It’s not there,” he assured her. “We went through earlier. It’s safe.”

  Shasha turned and looked at Devon over her shoulder, her oddly beautiful face expressionless. “Nowhere is safe,” she said to him, her voice earthy and deep. “We have nowhere to retreat.”

  Xehm frowned at the earth sylph, having only heard Devon’s half of his conversation with Airi. “The battle sylphs will destroy this thing,” he assured her. “Whatever it is.”

  Shasha turned her ruby gaze on to the old man. “A Hunter came to my home hive. So many battle sylphs died that another hive came. My queen died. I went through the gate.” She looked back into the great chamber and steeled her shoulders, striding forward. Making her way over to the tangle of caging, she started to climb as easily as if she were walking up a flight of stairs.

  Devon looked over at Xehm to find the old man staring back at him, his eyes fearful. “What can kill battlers?” Xehm mourned.

  Devon just shook his head helplessly, not knowing how to answer that.

  It was past noon when they got out of the tunnels, the air outside scorching hot but a relief after the silence and death of the underground. Shasha led the way out, again moving uncertainly at the exit, obviously fearful of being attacked, but then walking with more confidence when she saw a human moving around outside the small building that held the entrance.

  Devon was pleasantly surprised when that person turned out to be Zalia.

  “Zalia!” her father gasped, rushing forward to embrace his daughter and leaving Devon with Gel. Gel had recovered some of his senses while Airi lifted them up to the surface and he pushed away a bit to stand on his own, shivering and silent. Shasha walked over to pat his hand reassuringly. Airi pressed against Devon’s back, mostly asleep from the effort of lifting them so high on top of helping Shasha.

  Zalia hugged her father, saying things to him in a low tone that he exclaimed at in surprise. Devon saw her flush red at one point, shaking her head, and hand her father a small pouch that he took with an expression of wonder.

  “We need to hurry,” Devon called to them. Nice as it was to see Zalia, they had to get moving. Shasha didn’t have direct access to the queen; earth sylphs couldn’t fly, but she could take them to those who did. Devon looked up at the small palace floating over the city. It should have occurred to him sooner that she’d be up there.

  For now, they’d be traveling on the ground, and for once in his life, Devon was unnerved at the thought of doing so. Suddenly, the wide-open air and shadows of the city were frightening, knowing as he did that there was something invisible out there that would kill all of them too quickly to even give a warning. He squinted, trying to peer through the blistering noon sunshine, but all he could see was the haze that shimmered the buildings and some sort of weird desert mirage like a giant egg off toward the ocean. Just looking at them made his eyes ache and he closed them for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Let me help him,” Xehm said suddenly, having returned. He took Gel’s arms, gently speaking to the dazed man as he led him away. Shasha walked ahead of them. Devon found himself standing with Zalia and flushed nervously, looking at the ground when he found himself unwittingly staring into her deep black eyes. Airi pressed against his shoulders, mumbling something that might have been encouragement if she’d been completely awake.

  “I thought you had to work today,” he said, painfully aware of how pathetic he sounded, as well as the fact that her father had taken everyone else ahead to give them some privacy. At least he wasn’t worrying about the Hunter killing them in the next breath anymore. Devon was so focused on Zalia that the possibility wasn’t even in his thoughts.

  Zalia ducked her head, shyly wringing her hands together before herself. “I…I have the rest of the day off. I only work mornings now, with tomorrow and then every third day off.”

  Devon blinked and looked directly at her again. “How’d you manage that?” he asked. He’d thought there weren’t any rules giving workers rights in Meridal, unlike back at home.

  She turned bright red, the color of it barely showing through her hanging hair. “My employer…he was yelling at me for being late…and a battle sylph came.”

  “Oh,” Devon breathed. That was one thing the creatures were good for. No woman in Sylph Valley had to worry about being abused. In fact, it was unusual for the battler to go so easy on the man. Devon doubted there were any orders from the queen containing their behavior here. “I’m surprised he didn’t kill him,” he admitted.

  Zalia looked up again, her eyes tired and her blush already fading. “I begged him not to. I didn’t want anyone dying because of me.”

  Devon smiled and reached out to touch his fingertips to the edge of her soft jaw before he could think about it. “Good for you,” he told her.

  Zalia smiled at him and reached up with her small brown hand to lay it over his pale, sunburned one. Devon’s heart started hammering again. “Thank you,” she said.

  They both stared at each other, shy and speechless, but it was hot out and the roads weren’t completely deserted.
Finally they had to return their attention to their surroundings or risk being left behind. Xehm was already a few hundred feet away with both Gel and Shasha and the two of them hurried after them until they were only a dozen or so feet behind.

  “Do you like having more free time?” Devon asked her.

  She put both her palms against her cheeks, her eyes wide. “I don’t know what to do with myself! I feel so decadent.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to do.”

  She looked at him and flushed prettily again, dropping her eyes. “He got me better wages too. The battle sylph, I mean. I have so much money now.”

  “Yeah, well, battlers do like women to be comfortable,” he admitted.

  Zalia peered at him, studying the tension around his eyes. “You’re afraid of them, aren’t you?” she asked.

  Devon winced, not wanting to admit that to her, but what was he supposed to do? She’d be able to see how badly they frightened him the minute he came near one and they would definitely be guarding the queen. He couldn’t imagine them not doing so. “I’m scared stiff by them,” he admitted. Her eyes widened. “I always have been.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. It was a very pretty frown, he thought. “Why?”

  Devon hesitated, not sure he really wanted to talk about it. She peeked at him through the cover of her hair and suddenly he couldn’t keep silent, if that was what she wanted.

  “When I was a boy, a battle sylph was used to execute some prisoners. I think it was the king’s idea of an object lesson to the rest of us, since we had to watch.” He shuddered, remembering the blood and the screams of the men. He remembered the evil, toothy grin of the battler and felt the old terror.

  “He did more than kill them,” Devon said softly. “He tore them apart, and he kept them alive for as long as he could while he did.”

  Zalia stared at him, her face troubled. “That is so awful. They’re not…they’re not all like that, are they?”

  Devon managed a small smile. “No,” he admitted, “but that was my first impression of one and I never was able to forget it. I’ve never had a good interaction with a battle sylph.”

  “Not ever?” she asked, reaching out to touch his bare hand with the tips of her fingers. Immediately that bare patch of skin felt as though it was burning, he focused so much attention on it.

  “Not really,” he breathed. Yes, they’d saved the Valley, yes, they kept everyone safe, but the only major interaction he’d had with a battler since the Valley was established was Heyou demanding his seed and then telling him to leave. “I can’t go back,” he said. He stared into nothing. “The queen’s battler said I could never go back.” Now he was stuck here, with another queen who wouldn’t see him and a monster even the battlers couldn’t stop.

  “Why?” Zalia gasped.

  Devon shook himself and looked down at her, thinking that there was something good about being banished to Meridal. “The queen wanted a baby, but the only way her battler could get her pregnant was with a man’s seed. He demanded mine and then told me to leave. I can’t go back.”

  Zalia gasped again, her eyes wide. Her fingers had moved until she was holding his hand with both her own and now she squeezed it tightly. “That’s awful.”

  Devon shrugged, not sure what else to do. “I’m numb to it. I never would have wanted to have children though. At least, not with Solie.” He realized what he’d just implied with that last statement and ducked his head at the same time she did, both of them blushing.

  They were quiet for a time and Devon realized belatedly that they’d stopped walking. Xehm, Gel, and Shasha were nearly out of sight and they were standing together in the shadow of a building, holding hands.

  Zalia finally rubbed her thumb over Devon’s knuckles, making his heart skip a beat. “Do you think battlers are evil?” she asked.

  “Evil?” He thought about it for a moment and finally shrugged, almost dislodging Airi from where she’d wrapped her vaguely solid self around his neck to sleep. “No. Amoral definitely, but not evil.”

  “Amoral?” she questioned.

  Devon dragged the hand she wasn’t holding through his hair. Without Airi fluffing it around, it was heavy and soaked with sweat, reminding him of how thirsty he was. “Um, uncaring of consequences. Not even that.” He paused thinking. “They don’t think of consequences. Sometimes I doubt they think at all. Most of them just react based on what their instinct tells them to do.”

  “Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. Their pace had slowed to a crawl but they’d followed the others into a part of the city Devon hadn’t seen yet. It was more affluent than anything else he’d encountered so far, with the exception of one massive building that looked as though it had once been oval in shape before it was reduced to rubble.

  “Do you think they can love?” Zalia asked.

  Devon forgot about the circular building and flushed red again, wondering if she was trying to tell him something with that question. Airi stirred against his neck and giggled. “Um.” He tried to think honestly. “They do. Sometimes I think a lot of them can’t tell the difference between lust and love, but most of them do.”

  “Oh.” That might just be her favorite word, he thought. “Then they feel things like love the way a man would?”

  Devon’s heart nearly exploded in his chest it was hammering so loud and Airi squealed in his mind, wide awake now and excited. “Yes,” he said as casually as he could, running a hand through his hair again. “They do.”

  “Oh.”

  Devon allowed his arm to drop back by his side again as Zalia let go. By some coincidence or a puff of wind from Airi, it brushed against Zalia’s for a moment and then away. A moment passed and her hand brushed against his again, for no particular reason. They both walked along, looking forward as their hands brushed together a third time and then, with neither saying anything, entwined a second time, despite how miserably hot out it was. Neither of them really noticed the heat. Zalia was used to it and Devon was walking so far outside of himself that he didn’t care.

  Zalia walked along holding Devon’s hand, happy with the situation but confused. Her father obviously approved of the thought of her union with Devon Chole, the ambassador from Sylph Valley, but Zalia was torn.

  Not about her feelings for Devon. Quickly as they’d come upon her, she was sure about them. Devon made her feel like no other man ever had and what else was this happiness and the fluttering in her belly if not the start of love for him?

  It was One-Eleven that caused her confusion. He also made her feel like no man ever could, taking her and making the pleasure explode through her until it was all consuming. She remembered just that morning, the feel of him tasting her and how it made her entire body spasm with ecstasy, and her hand tightened involuntarily around Devon’s. He looked down at her and tightened his own grip for a moment, returning hers. Zalia had to blush and look down.

  No woman should have to make this kind of choice! Both of them were so different, so utterly opposite from each other, and she didn’t really know anything about either. She couldn’t have both of them—that thought wasn’t worth dwelling on even if she thought either of them would be willing to contemplate it. Nor did she want to be shared.

  She had to make a choice, before things went any further, before either of them learned about the other and perhaps something horrible happened. She had to.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” she said to Devon, looking up at him nervously. “Not about battlers. About you.”

  He blinked, rubbing his thumb along the outside of her hand for a moment while he thought. “Me? Um, I was born in Eferem, in Eferem City, where the king lives. It’s a kingdom way far away, to the south of Sylph Valley. My family have been air-sylph masters for three generations. Airi belonged to my father and grandfather before me.”

  “They just gave her to you?” sh
e asked.

  “Yeah.” He reached up to nothing she could see on his shoulders. “Sylphs have no rights in Eferem. Airi wasn’t even allowed to talk, so I don’t think Dad and Granddad ever realized how smart she is. I did let her talk though, which was illegal. I could have been executed for it.” His hair ruffled madly. “She only talked to me, until we went to the Valley. Sylphs are free there.”

  “How did you happen to go there?” Zalia asked. She liked the sound of his voice. “Was it because of Airi?”

  “Oh, gods, no,” he laughed. “I like to think I would have, but the Valley didn’t exist when I left Eferem. It really was all a big mistake. Not that I regret it, but it was terrifying at the time.”

  He went on to tell her about how he’d seen the battle sylph Heyou escape the castle with Solie and impulsively sent Airi to follow them. That led to him trying to get to the village they had escaped to before his retired father was hurt, the battle between Ril and Heyou, and Devon himself ending up as a fugitive along with Solie when Airi rescued her from Leon’s sword.

  “Mr. Petrule was the enemy?” Zalia gasped, stunned. He’d seemed the noblest man she’d ever met, not someone who would try to assassinate a girl.

  “Yeah. Luckily, he switched sides.” Devon shrugged. “Solie just has this way about her. Mostly he did it for Ril. It was become a good guy or lose him, I guess. I never really understood what was going on between those two. They don’t have any sort of master-and-sylph relationship that I’ve ever even heard of before.” He looked at her again. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, I think. I ended up as Solie’s majordomo.”

  “What’s a majordomo?”

  “Her chief steward,” he said. “Basically, I was her secretary. I arranged who could see her when, her appointments, that kind of thing. Plus I took notes at any meetings so we’d have a record of everything. There weren’t a whole lot of people in the Valley when we started who could read or write.”