“I know,” she said, wiping her tears away. He was, he really was. And if he ever risked himself like that again, she’d kill him.
For now, she leaned down and kissed him instead. It was good. He felt alive and strong and loving underneath her lips and she moved her mouth upward to kiss his nose and cheeks and eyelids, grateful only that he was alive, and loved her.
“I told my father we’re going to be married,” she whispered to him.
He smiled. “What was his reaction?”
“What do you think? He was ecstatic.” She blushed. “I didn’t tell him we were already practicing the good parts.”
“Probably a good idea,” he admitted.
Though she had other things in mind that she’d rather be doing with him, Zalia sat back. “The queen sent me to get you if you’re feeling up to it.”
He looked a little dubious. “How’s she doing?”
“Feeling guilty. Determined to make things better.” Zalia shrugged. “I think she’s doing a lot better than I would in the same situation. She does want to see you though.”
Devon sighed and got up. “I guess we better go then, or I’ll never get out of this bed.”
Zalia blushed at that and also when he started to take his nightclothes off; but she didn’t leave, instead watching without shame as he stripped and put on the clothes that had been left for him. Devon grinned at her, but he didn’t protest as she kept him company until he was dressed. Then she led him down the plainly decorated halls toward the dining hall that Eapha was using as her throne room.
“How many people do they think died?” Devon asked as they walked. Airi was still playing with his hair and it looked as though he’d slept on half of it.
“No one’s sure yet,” Zalia told him. “A lot. Not nearly as many as would have if you hadn’t saved us.” She paused. “We’ve lost about eighty percent of our battle sylphs.”
Devon stopped there and looked at her. She suspected he wouldn’t ever get over his terror of them, but he appeared to be as disturbed by those numbers as she was. “That’s…”
“Scary,” she finished for him. She’d sat in on some of the meetings they’d had while Devon was recovering, at Eapha’s invitation. There were fewer than a hundred and fifty battle sylphs in Meridal now and there was real concern that one of their desert neighbors might decide to invade if they didn’t do something. “They’re going to reopen the gates to get more. It’ll take a long time to get our numbers up.”
Devon sighed. “Here’s hoping another Hunter doesn’t come through.”
“They’re going to be careful, and have human guards on them as well as battlers.”
“Right. Solie will have to be warned, so she can do the same thing.”
They walked on, their hands somehow ending up entwined as they made their way. It was only down a flight of stairs and across a few halls to the dining room and Zalia felt Devon’s hand tighten in hers as the battler on guard outside the door looked at him. Devon’s hair neatly rearranged itself.
The battler didn’t say a word, instead pulling the door open. Devon hesitated for a moment and then hurried through, Zalia trotting at his side. They’d just crossed the threshold when he stopped again.
They might have lost most of their battlers, but the majority of those who survived seemed to be in the queen’s throne room and Devon looked at them with something like despair before he steeled himself, preparing to walk forward anyway. Zalia’s heart ached for him.
The battle sylphs, however, looked back at Devon, and all of them started to step away, leaving first an open area around the man and then the entire room as they went out through other doorways or changed shape to fly out the window. In moments, the room was clear of them, save the lead battler standing by the chair at the other end where his queen sat. He leaned down and kissed Eapha’s cheek before straightening. With a nod at Devon, he left.
Devon gaped, alone with the queen of a hive save for a few human women and elemental sylphs. “What the—?”
Zalia smiled at him, though she hadn’t known they were going to do that. “I think that’s their way of saying thank you,” she told him and watched him shake his head in disbelief.
Devon stared after the departed battle sylphs, feeling his fear drain away. He hadn’t thought they’d do that. He hadn’t thought they’d acknowledge him at all, let alone leave him with their queen.
Eapha laughed, rising up from the chair and coming toward him, her hands outstretched. “Don’t worry about them. Tooie says they trust that you of all people won’t hurt me.”
Devon stared at her, bemused, as she took his hands and squeezed them. “Okay, I guess.”
She laughed. “Well, considering you probably don’t want one of them draping a medal around your neck, staying away from you is probably the next best thing.” Her smile faded. “Can you forgive me for being a fool?”
Devon looked at her, forgetting about the battlers as he studied the woman. She’d aged since he saw her last, though he supposed he had as well. She carried a heavier burden than he did. If she’d only listened to him…He pushed the thought away, knowing she was as empathic as Solie and felt whatever he did. She was queen. She needed his help a lot more than his condemnation, and she was listening now.
“I can, Your Majesty.”
She smiled again, her face beautiful. “Come on then, have some lunch with me and we’ll discuss what the ambassador of Sylph Valley can do to help Meridal.” The hint of dimples showed on her cheeks. “I suspect it will be a lot.”
Devon smiled at her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eapha smiled as Devon and Zalia left again. She was glad to have him with her, though there was time enough for him to recover. He’d been through a lot, and he’d go through a lot more helping her turn her hive into a real kingdom again. For now, she could give him a few more days to get his feet under him.
She returned to her chair as she sensed the battlers filtering back into the room. She hadn’t asked any of them to leave the way they had and she was touched by the gesture. It was the best reward they could give to Devon, she supposed. It was more than recognizing they didn’t want to frighten him. They were showing they trusted him.
The chair was hard and still a bit uncomfortable under her, despite the cushioning. She supposed she’d have to get used to it. She couldn’t look very regal sitting on a pillow on the floor, after all, though she’d keep a few in her private quarters.
Over by the window, Kiala sighed, and Eapha felt her exasperation, her surety that Eapha looked stupid sitting on a chair and was only putting on airs. As if she were selfishly pretending to be more special or important than anyone else, including, she saw now, Kiala herself.
Eapha’s hands tightened on the arms of her chair, her heart suddenly pounding but her voice firm. “Stop it,” she said, not turning to look at the other woman. “Stop it right now, Kiala.”
“What?” Kiala said.
“Say a single word about what you’re thinking and I will banish you from Meridal, do you understand me?”
Kiala’s shock was absolute, as was that of the other survivors of the Circle. Not all of them had made it through that horrible night. Even fewer of their battle sylphs had and most of them were grieving, though that didn’t stop their surprise now. Finally, Eapha allowed herself to turn and glare at all of them, even as Tooie walked back up behind her chair, his pride in her overwhelming.
“Kiala. I am the queen of Meridal. Accept it or get out. That goes for all of you.”
Kiala stared back at her, her eyes huge, and finally gave a short, stilted nod of agreement. Eapha turned back around in her chair, her heart still pounding, her stomach feeling ill, and the shock and condemnation—and even the admiration—of her friends ringing in her mind. She felt the happiness and relief of the sylphs at her words too, and for their sake, for the moment, that
would have to be enough.
“We have a lot to do today,” she said. “Let’s get to it.”
Life in Meridal changed, but in some ways it went on the same as it always had before the hives. The entire city was a hive in the sylphs’ minds, but to the humans who lived there, it was home, now without battle-sylph law being enforced. Zalia suspected that the quality of life was going to go up quite a bit, at least for the people who’d been poor, such as her old neighbors in the hovels outside the city. They had homes themselves now, empty buildings granted to them by the queen. After all, there were certainly enough of them sitting vacant. Eapha had started deeding them out, and if anyone didn’t like the rules she came up with, she did still have over a hundred battle sylphs to protect her, as well as one determined man with a single air sylph and a lot of training in how a society should be set up.
Zalia smiled a bit as she stepped up onto the patio where she’d once worked, looking around. She hadn’t been back since One-Eleven bullied her old employer and it was bittersweet to see it again. It would also be the last time, she told herself. Just as, earlier in the day, going to the hovel where she’d once lived had been her last visit there. They were part of the life she used to have and she just needed to say good-bye.
She was going to go back to the stable where she’d met One-Eleven next.
There were a number of customers in the restaurant; the survivors of the Hunter were determined to get on with life as if nothing had ever happened. Zalia couldn’t really blame them and turned to go.
“You! You’re still alive!”
Zalia turned back around to see Ilaja standing in the door to the kitchens, her hands on her hips as she stared at Zalia, her face already turning down into a frown. She’d been taken to the women’s hive, Zalia thought. What had it been like for her? Zalia had no idea if Ilaja was made into a battle-sylph master there as One-Eleven tried to do with her, but if Ilaja had, her battler hadn’t survived and she was back here, as bitter as always.
“I’m alive,” Zalia said, just to say something. “I’m glad you are.”
Ilaja sniffed, stomping toward her. “Don’t think Orlil will be glad to see you,” she retorted.
“Zalia!”
Both women turned to see Orlil coming out of the kitchens, mopping sweat off his forehead. He smiled at her winningly enough while the customers were listening, but when he reached her side, his voice dropped. Ilaja backed away a few steps, looking smug but also as though she didn’t want his attention on her by mistake.
“You little whore,” he snapped. “I heard that your battler got killed. Well, I’m going to make your life a nightmare now.”
Zalia looked at him, studying the man who’d once held her life in his hands and made her so miserable. Any fear she’d had for him was long gone.
“Zalia.” Zalia turned, smiling at the voice as Orlil blanched, seeing Devon walk up. His looks were unmistakable and there wasn’t anyone in Meridal who didn’t know what he’d done or that he now had the ear of the queen. Certainly there wasn’t a man surviving in the city who hadn’t seen him lead them all to safety in the men’s hive. Zalia beamed at him, loving his timing even as his hair started spiking in all directions again. Seeing power of a sort very different from a battler, Orlil began stammering greetings.
“Devon,” Zalia murmured, kissing his cheek. “Orlil was just telling me how he’s going to make my life horrid again, since I don’t have a battler to protect me.” Orlil started sputtering.
“Oh?” Devon looked down at Orlil, amused. “She has all of them, just as she does”—he pointed at Ilaja—“and everyone else here. We’re bringing in new laws, about fair treatment and fair wages. The battlers will be enforcing them.” He smiled at Orlil, who looked as though he was going to go into shock, and nodded at Ilaja, who gaped at them both with all the bitterness washed off her face. She blinked at him and stared at Zalia, who nodded and saw the first light of hope she’d ever seen in her appear on the woman’s face.
“Have a nice day,” Devon told Orlil, probably just to rub it in, and turned away, taking Zalia by the hand and leading her with him. They strolled down the street, enjoying the day before the sun got too hot. A battle sylph on patrol saw them and turned down a side street to take the long way around.
Devon sighed happily as his hair started rearranging itself again. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is,” Zalia murmured, laying her head on his shoulder and feeling her hair get tangled together with his. “I think for the first time ever, it really is.”
They walked on.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Francois Bergogne, because I promised him a long time ago that I would.
To Michelle Grajkowski, for helping me get these books out to the world.
To Amazon, for deciding to take me under their wing.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kevin Daly Photography
L. J. McDonald is a fresh new voice in fantasy romance. Her first book, The Battle Sylph, was published by Dorchester in 2010 and named one of the top-five romance novels by Library Journal that year. She quickly followed her debut with two sequels: The Shattered Sylph and Queen of the Sylphs. McDonald earned a degree in anthropology from the University of Victoria and joined the Canadian Air Force in 2002. She currently lives in Embrun, Ontario.
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