Queen of the Sylphs

by L. J. McDonald

  Heyou’s eyes went huge, and his form dissolved into a panicked, amorphous cloud.

  Solie! he squealed into her mind.

  The contraction eased, and Solie collapsed back against the pillows. “Get the healer,” she gasped. “Get her now!”

  Hysterical, Heyou obeyed. This left her alone for the first time in months.

  Three sylphs flew over the town, one massive and shimmering white, the other two smaller and black flecked with lightning. The smallest by far, Heyou flew ahead, flitting jaggedly through the sky.

  Following, Claw sent out a call to the other battlers. The queen is in human labor. She’ll be frightened and in pain. Don’t come to her cries. She won’t want visitors.

  Cries of agreement and congratulations came back to him, and he turned his attention inward. I’ve warned the battlers to ignore her.

  “Good,” Sala said.

  They dropped down into Solie’s garden, Heyou landing in a stumbling run as he took human shape. He went to open the glass doors, and a woman’s cry of pain echoed out. He ran inside with a wail.

  Sala was released by Claw on the ground. He stood beside her, perfectly obedient, perfectly broken. Autumn landed, gently setting down her two passengers. The healer looked at Claw in puzzlement, but Sala stepped before him to break her line of sight. Autumn was far too inconvenient an unknown, unless she could be controlled, which Sala had a plan of ensuring.

  Everything else was just background dressing. Claw’s insanity, Wat’s death, Leon’s survival, Autumn’s arrival. None of it mattered. But, it had all come to this point. She could wait no longer. Tonight, she would be queen.

  Sala’s mind was calm and focused, her path clear. No one would come to Solie’s rescue. Not on this night, when they were expecting her pain and fear.

  She followed the sylphs and the other two women inside, not paying much attention to the beautiful furnishings of the queen’s private home. In her apron pocket she found the small tin of poison she’d brought, and the belt knife she’d always carried, despite how unseemly it was considered for women of Yed. Solie screamed again, a cry of pain, and Heyou appeared in a doorway, gesturing.

  Solie’s bedroom was large, but it held only a wide bed and a wardrobe, with a heavy, comfortable-looking chair in the corner. The window drapes were drawn, and the room was lit by an elaborate system of mirrors that redirected the light of a distant fire sylph. That light was warm, and it shone on Solie’s sweating face.

  The queen panted frantically, her knees spread wide, her belly huge. She stared up at them all in terror, her gaze settling on Sala in denial for a moment before next finding Gabralina, then seeing one of the very last people she’d expected.

  “Betha?”

  The older woman smiled. “I’ve had five daughters. Leon and I both decided you could use someone who knows what you’re going through.”

  Solie sagged in relief, then reached out to the woman in desperation.

  Sala crossed to sit in the chair as Betha went to Solie. Gabralina stood at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands. Both battlers stood by the door, Heyou in a panic, Claw beside him. Autumn glided up to the bed and ran a gentle hand down Solie’s stomach.

  Sala stood up. “I’ll get something for her to drink,” she said to the room. Claw was the only one who noticed that she’d gone.

  Solie exhaled in relief. The pain had stopped, though her muscles continued to tighten and contract. She could think again, and breathe. Thank the heavens for Autumn.

  “Don’t make it too easy on her,” Betha cautioned. “Too simple a birth is hard on the baby.” The older woman stroked Solie’s hair. “I remember how frightened I was when I had my first child.” She smiled over her shoulder at the two battlers. “And how useless my husband was.”

  Solie gasped, trying to shift into a more comfortable position. “Hard to imagine Leon as useless.”

  “Oh, he was, trust me. He’s still useless when I give birth. This is women’s work.” Betha brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of Solie’s eyes and looked over her shoulder again. “Gabralina, get me a bowl of water and a cloth.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gabralina scurried out.

  “Thank you for coming,” Solie whispered. “All of you.”

  “Of course, dear. You don’t have to face this alone.”

  “Solie?” Heyou whimpered from across the room. “It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

  She smiled at him, her heart still pounding. “Of course not, dear. I’m fine now, thank you.” He started toward her, but Claw looped an arm around his neck, pulling him back. They stood together, one battler nervous, the other impassive.

  It reminded Solie of Sala. The woman was here, and Solie did not want that. Not during this moment. But her stomach rippled into another contraction as she tried to think of a polite way to get her to leave.

  The two absent women came back into the room, Gabralina carrying a bowl, Sala a tray, both unaware of Solie’s thoughts.

  “. . . should think about what you plan to do,” Sala was saying. “I mean, you have a huge responsibility to help the Widow with those poor children, but now you have Autumn. There are so many people who are going to need her help.”

  Gabralina frowned worriedly, even as she brought the bowl over.

  Betha took a cloth draped over her arm and soaked it in the bowl before she wrung it out and used it to wipe Solie’s forehead. “I don’t think now is a good time to discuss that,” she chided.

  Sala shrugged. “I’m sorry. I was just saying that Autumn’s going to be so busy, it’ll be hard for Gabralina to be with her as much as she needs. To prioritize, I mean. Autumn’s going to want to help everyone, even when it exhausts her.”

  “I guess,” Gabralina murmured. She eyed Autumn, who was sitting back on her heels, obviously unconcerned about the progress of the birth. Solie was taking her lack of worry as a good sign.

  The contraction eased, the desire to push fading, and Solie sagged back against her pillows. Sala noticed and set down her tray, picking up a glass of water and holding it out. Solie took it greedily. Her mouth felt like sand.

  “Try not to gulp, dear,” Betha warned. “Needing to go to the bathroom while you’re in labor is terribly inconvenient.”

  “I guess it would be.” Solie laughed breathlessly, trying to lift the glass. Her hands were so sweaty, she fumbled a little.

  Heyou pulled away from Claw so that he could see her more clearly. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “You better drink what’s left,” Sala urged.

  Gabralina frowned, obviously thinking over what she and Sala had just been discussing, and then her face brightened. “I can do it all,” she decided. “I’ll just order Autumn to obey someone else like she does me—like Wat obeyed you, Sala.”

  Solie froze, the glass almost to her lips. Just like that, she knew. Without any doubt in her mind, she knew why Sala made her so uncomfortable, even as she didn’t bother the battlers. She knew why the people who died had been attacked, and why Leon ordered Ril to change his shape the day he’d been pushed down the stairs, when Sala had been one of the first to find him. Moreover, she knew why Wat had done all the things he did, from deserting his guardpost to trying to smother Leon. Most of all, she knew why poor dear Rachel had died. She knew, and when she looked up and met Sala’s bland, placid, unthreatening gaze, she knew the other woman was aware of her epiphany.

  “Claw,” Sala called. “Kill Heyou.”

  Claw moved. If he’d still been standing with his arm around Heyou’s neck, the fight would have been over immediately. Instead, the younger battle sylph barely had time to look amazed before his friend’s forcewave slammed into his barely formed shield. Heyou was blown through the wall. Claw hurtled after him.

  Dropping her tray and pulling a knife from her apron pocket, Sala threw herself at Solie.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Gabralina fell back with a shriek as her friend lunged across the bed, knife upraised. Howling, Solie cau
ght Sala’s wrists with her hands, desperately holding the woman off.

  “Stop it!” Betha cried. She grabbed Sala and tried to hold her back.

  “Get back, bitch!” Sala shouted. She shoved Betha, and the woman gave a shout of surprise and then a scream when the knife was driven into her shoulder.

  Solie rolled off the bed, tossing the blankets away as she hit the floor. She rolled again, forcing herself back to her feet with a cry of pain. Sala turned, bloody knife still in hand, and Solie grabbed a heavy candlestick off the bedtable. Sala looked down at her knife and then at Solie’s stomach, and she laughed.

  Gabralina cowered next to the bed. Her healer sylph, shaking, just stared in uncomprehending horror.

  Heyou crashed backward through the great glass doors the earth sylphs made, continuing on halfway through the garden until he slammed into a stone wall, the rock shattering and crumbling around him as he collapsed to the ground. His shield held, but his head rang from shock and outrage, and most of all confusion.

  Levering himself upright, he stared at the sylph who appeared through the ruined archway. “Claw?” he gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Killing you,” was the answer. “So you better kill me first.”

  Claw lifted a hand, pointing at him. Heyou got his feet under himself and jumped, arching up more than twenty feet in the air as the ground beneath him vaporized. Even then, he couldn’t get over the shock of it. This was Claw. Claw was like family!

  Then he felt Solie’s fear and anger.

  Frightened and desperate, Heyou tried to go to her, to protect her, but Claw cut him off, crashing into him before Heyou could reach the doorway. Grabbing Heyou by an arm, Claw threw him back across the garden.

  “You have to fight me!” he shouted. “You have to kill me!”

  Solie’s pain echoed out of the apartment, strangely ignored by the Valley battlers. Heyou stared at Claw, and his fear turned to a sudden cyclone of rage.

  DANGER TO THE QUEEN! DANGER TO THE QUEEN! HURRY!

  All across the Valley, battlers started to roar, their hatred flaring across town as they rose into the air, clouds of smoke as if from some sudden, hellish fire.

  Claw smiled bitterly. “It’s about time.”

  Snarling, Heyou lunged.

  Sala heard the battlers roar, but that didn’t frighten her. She didn’t have time for panic; everything was out. She had to kill Solie immediately and screw Claw while the other battlers were confused by their queen’s death. Wait too long and Claw might be killed, making it impossible for Sala herself to become queen. Worse, she could be killed herself.

  If only Solie had taken a few seconds longer for her realization, just long enough to drink the poisoned water. If only Sala had kept her own mouth shut—but she hadn’t been entirely positive she’d succeed today and wanted to set the groundwork for getting control of Autumn. If only Gabralina hadn’t unwittingly given her away.

  Ultimately, though, she had no time for such reflections.

  Sala advanced around the side of the bed, watching the queen. Then again, how hard could it be to kill a pregnant woman?

  Mace bolted out the door to the Widow’s home, orphans scattering before him, and took to the air with a roar of rage. The queen was in danger. He’d felt her fear, felt her pain, and ignored it. Now at last they knew who the enemy was, and he cursed himself for not recognizing Claw’s warnings.

  Lily hurried out onto the porch behind him, calling the children back while she watched him race toward the center of the town. She didn’t know what had happened; he certainly hadn’t had the time to tell her. But she knew there was something wrong, and he felt her well-wishes as he joined the clouds of other battlers rising up, all of them abandoning their homes and masters. This was a threat to the queen.

  Like Mace, Ril bolted out of the house. One of Mia’s toys was lying on the walk, and he tripped on it, nearly falling.

  Lizzy ran out the door behind him, her skirt hiked up. “What’s happening?” she gasped.

  Ril looked up at the clouds of battlers racing toward the queen. All of them were screaming; their hatred and fear was blanketing the Valley. He wanted to go with them, but pain held him in the form he was in.

  “Ril!” Lizzy shouted.

  He looked back at her, loving her but not having time. Leon came out of the house, still pale but improved since Autumn’s second visit. They were both so fragile, so easy to hurt.

  “Stay here,” he told them. “Don’t follow me.”

  “Ril—” Leon started to protest.

  “DON’T FOLLOW ME!” he bellowed, and they both jumped. Turning, he ran, the road blurring under him as he sprinted toward the queen, listening to the silent screams of what was going on, and who was doing it, and why.

  Claw, he thought. Oh, poor Claw.

  He forced himself to run faster.

  Solie backed toward the center of the room, her focus on nothing except the woman advancing on her. There was help coming; she could feel them in the back of her mind and hear them, but it would take time. Only seconds, but seconds right now were an eternity.

  To prove it, Sala lunged with her knife.

  Solie brought her candlestick around. It glanced off Sala’s arm instead of breaking the woman’s wrist as she’d intended. Sala’s eyes flashed in pain, but she drew back for a moment. She knew as well as Solie that she had almost no time.

  Sala advanced again, and Solie readied herself, ignoring her thundering heart, her fear, the pain in her stomach, and the water that suddenly poured down her legs. If she was going to live, she could do nothing else.

  The two battlers came together high in the air over the garden, blasting each other with energy and lashing out with sharp and fiery tentacles.

  Heyou, younger and smaller, struggled to keep his shield up against Claw’s passionless attack. Claw didn’t want to fight him. Heyou could feel that, and it was confusing, but Solie needed him; no matter how much Claw might not want to win, this battle was for keeps.

  Stop this! Heyou shrilled, desperate to get back to Solie, barely able to think through his fear for her.

  You know I can’t, Claw returned. He lashed out, energy rippling from the tip of his tentacle. It tore through Heyou’s weakening shield and into his body, throwing him back. He shrieked and retaliated, but Claw dodged. The energy blew past him, arcing down into the town. There was an explosion, and a group of buildings was obliterated, the roof of one lifting up into the sky.

  Careful, Claw cautioned, mad laughter in his voice.

  Enraged and horrified, Heyou lunged. He was knocked aside, tumbling, and tried to right himself before Claw could hit him again—which was when Dillon slammed into the underside of Claw, both battlers reeling from the impact, squealing.

  With his assailant engaged, Heyou’s first priority remained unchanged. He turned and darted toward the house, flickering across the garden to the gaping hole where the doors used to be. He could feel Solie’s focus and determination, her pain and fear underneath. He felt Gabralina’s terror and Betha’s agony; but from Sala, all he felt was her usual calm. Even in this, she felt nothing. Heyou raged that none of them had realized.

  Ahead, the doorway grew closer, while behind, Claw rolled over Dillon. Obeying orders, he released a burst of power. It slammed into Heyou, who, squealing, crashed into the garden, plants and paving stones tearing up around him. He trailed ozone and pain.

  The other battlers swept in from all directions. They were led by Mace. Claw saw them coming and shot upward, trailing enemies as he raced for altitude, leading them away. Heyou howled, shifting to human form and clawing at the ground to pull himself upright, trying to shout at them not to follow Claw, to come to the queen, to Solie, but he couldn’t speak through the pain, neither aloud nor through the hive line. He could only feel Solie and had to go to her.

  One battler recognized the real enemy. High above, Mace dropped away, letting himself fall until he was under the raging cloud that formed the Valley
sylph pursuit. Ignoring Claw and everyone else, including Heyou, he blew straight toward the queen, and Heyou felt a moment of great gratitude. Then something changed, and everything inside him thundered to a stop.

  Autumn was bent over Betha, cooing to the woman while she healed her. Betha stared upward in weeping terror, frightened to her bones by what had happened and wishing for once that her husband’s battler were there. A few feet away, Gabralina cowered in fear, watching her friends fight and listening to the screams of battle sylphs outside. She didn’t understand any of this.

  “What’s going on?” she wailed.

  Autumn looked over at her, reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. Some of Gabralina’s fear eased. “She wants to be queen.”

  But she was queen, Gabralina thought for a moment, thinking Autumn meant Solie. Then the truth hit her and she gave a horrified gasp. Sala wanted to be queen? But there was only ever one. They’d told her that, even kept her from making love to her sweet Wat until after he’d been brought into their hive. They’d done that to prevent him from turning Gabralina into a queen.

  Another truth came to her then, though from Autumn’s touch or her own sudden realization Gabralina never knew. With an abrupt pain, Gabralina saw all of what her so-called friend had done, what she’d been able to do, thanks to Gabralina stupidly telling Wat to obey her.

  Wat.

  Her Wat. Dead. Killed for trying to murder the chancellor. For doing something that made no sense, except that Sala told him to. Only, Gabralina hadn’t meant for Sala to be able to do that. She’d only meant for Wat to help her carry some luggage. Not this. Not any of this. He’d died because of this.

  Guilt flooded Gabralina’s broken heart, making her new sylph eye her in concern; but more than that, rage filled her. Pure, blinding hatred. Autumn drew back in shock.

  Gabralina shot to her feet, hiking her skirts up out of her way as she clambered onto the bed. She threw herself at Sala with a howl. Her friend. Her confidante. Her betrayer.

  Sala half turned, surprised, but Gabralina slammed into her, knocking her to the floor and landing on top. Solie backed away, gasping, one hand to her stomach. Her skirts were soaked, and she slipped on the puddle she stood in, falling against the wall with a groan.