I think she wants you, Heyou remarked.

And she's not going away, Dillon added.

"So, go talk to her!" Wat decided cheerfully. Putting a hand on Ril's back, he pushed. Hard.

Ril pitched off the ledge. Lizzy's shriek echoed through his mind, along with his own loud yelp. Desperate, he changed shape, his form shifting liquidly, his clothes tumbling around him as he took on a body he was intimately familiar with but that was too small to hold his clothes.

Agony shot through him, damaged nerve endings igniting as the pattern of his form changed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt Lizzy's terror and Leon's more distant alarm, and then his wings spread. Shrieking, Ril soared above the hard ground in the form of a red-feathered hawk. It was the shape he'd worn from the day he first came through the gate until Solie gave him his freedom.

Lizzy ducked as he flew over her head. She turned, holding her hair back from the wind of his pa.s.sage as he banked and swooped around, wings beating hard as he threw his feet forward. When Lizzy held up her arm, he landed on it, careful not to hurt her with his sharp claws.

"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed. She pulled him close, his feathered breast pressed against her as she wrapped her arm around him and kissed the top of his beak, right between his eyes. Then she looked up at the four battlers on the ledge, all of them looking down.

"Dummy!" she shouted. "You could have hurt him!"

The four battlers, two in cloud form and two in human, stared back. Then Dillon formed a tentacle of solid black smoke and smacked Wat.

Lizzy bent down and scooped up Ril's clothes and boots, balancing him carefully on her arm as she did. Wings folded, Ril watched. He was stuck like this for a while unless he wanted to embarra.s.s her by shifting and standing naked in front of half the town. There were light crowds out that morning.

Turning, she started across the square, carrying him on her arm. "You're being very stupid," she said as she walked. "I mean, really. You know you have to obey orders. You did every dumb thing my dad ever told you when I was growing up. Did you blame yourself for any of that? You haven't even blamed him."

Ril just blinked at her.

Across the square was a small building behind a stable that served as an auxiliary entrance to the hive. As if he'd heard his name, Leon appeared, looking right toward them. His expression was worried.

Of course, Ril realized. He'd felt the pain of the change.

Lizzy saw her father, and she waved him away. Leon raised his eyebrows but didn't follow.

"Justin was an a.s.shole," Lizzy said, her mouth becoming a tight line. "I wish I'd never met him. I never loved him, but I really hate him now. I'm glad he's dead. He's the one who killed all those people, not you. Got it? I don't want you blaming yourself."

Ril cooed in response.

She peered at him, stopping for a moment and shuffling the clothing she held until she could stroke his head with her hand. "That's not an order, Ril. Daddy and I both agree we won't give you orders. That's what I hate Justin for most. n.o.body should do that to anyone else. Ever. Not when they have no choice but to obey."

She carried him home. Ril let her, watching her contentedly out of one eye. He loved this girl, had loved her from the moment she was born, was tied to her with some strange bond that he didn't entirely understand. But he knew he loved her, and he didn't want to live life without her being his master.

He'd known intellectually that Lizzy didn't blame him for what happened, but emotionally he hadn't wanted to face her. He wasn't sure what he'd say to her father, either. The man had put a knife to Mace's throat for him! That was taking his life in his hands.

Ril cooed at Lizzy again and, as she turned down their street and went past her family's home to their cottage, he chucked his head against her shoulder. Carrying him inside, she closed the door. Ril hopped off her arm, changing back to human form with another flash of pain. By the time he recovered, she was standing before him, her lips succulent and soft.

She reached for him. Ril met her halfway, his arms tightening around her body and bunching up her dress until he managed to get it off. They ended up entwined on the bed, moving pa.s.sionately against each other, Ril kissing her deeply.

His hands and hips moved, lost in the moment-and in her. The danger was over, Justin was dead, and she was safe. And she was his. Ril finally let himself relax. He put the last few months out of his mind, just as battle sylphs all across the Valley were doing. Everything was good again. The hive was safe.

Leon stood in the sunlight outside the steep stairwell leading back down into the hive, leaning against the outer wall with his arms crossed. He'd felt Ril's pain clearly-very clearly. It had shocked him out of his office with the sudden fear that Mace decided to destroy Ril after all, and he'd nearly run Claw's poor master over while racing for the stairs. Ril had simply changed shape, though, for whatever reason.

He frowned, thinking about that. He'd felt his sylph's pain very clearly, and now he was noting a strange sort of block from his battler, which meant Ril and his daughter were making love. It was a considerate thing that Ril didn't want to broadcast such intimacies, and that was something Leon had certainly never complained about before, but it wasn't perfect. He could still feel his battler. He always could.

Sala came up the stairs, eyeing him curiously as she pa.s.sed. Leon barely noticed. He could feel Ril now; he didn't want to, but could. He'd definitely felt when Ril changed to a hawk and back.

"Why didn't I feel him change when he killed Galway?" he muttered aloud.

Turning, he headed back to his office. Sala stood behind him, fingering her shawl and watching him go.

The itch was getting worse, drilling along the pattern to her queen and weakening it, driving her mad with the need to make it stop.

We have to go, her companion said for the thousandth time.

The nameless sylph didn't want to go. She wanted to go home, back to her hive and her hive mates; only, she felt heavy and bloated, her insides twisting around themselves, changing her.

I don't want to leave, she said.

The exile pressed against her, and though he was getting to be big for a battle sylph, he was much smaller than she, too small to stop the itching. Reduced food supply or not, she'd grown since she left the hive.

He pressed harder against her, nuzzling, and it felt good, though it also felt strange. We can't stay here. Let me take you somewhere else, he begged.

And then what? she wondered.

Down several rows from them, a group of earth sylphs were harvesting crops, ignoring her and not seeing him, shielded as he was by her bulk. A small battler was with them, doing the actual work of cutting the plants. It was good practice for him in using his energy. The nameless sylph dully watched them, her belly pressed against the cool soil below.

A s.p.a.ce opened almost directly above. The nameless sylph stared, not understanding for a moment what she was seeing as the earth sylphs squealed in terror and ran, stumbling on their many legs across the field. The young battler nearly tumbled over himself, turning on it and hissing.

I've seen those before, her companion said.

So had she. They opened around the hive sometimes, never for long, but they caused whispers and discussions over what they might be. Battle sylph blasts did nothing against them, the circles just absorbing the energy, and the vortexes did nothing themselves, though sometimes sylphs vanished through them. The unspoken rule was to ignore them, but sylphs sometimes were curious. They went through and never returned.

The hive battler approached the colorless circle, hissing and lashing out with his energy. The circle, which hovered several queen-lengths above the ground, flashed whenever his power connected, but otherwise it did nothing. Both the nameless sylph and her exile watched the youngster, confounded, hissing and spitting and lunging at the thing. He didn't vanish through it, and finally he turned to flee back toward the hive, pausing only to gather up the crops he'd cut.

We have those sometimes near my home hive, her companion said. I think they're some kind of predator.

The nameless sylph's body itched and she felt miserable, but still she forced herself up and into the air, floating forward to see it more closely.

What are you doing? her battler gasped. That thing is dangerous!

Looking, she told him. She'd never actually seen one of these before, and if nothing else, it was a distraction from what was going on inside her and how her home and friends had turned her away. She floated above the circle, looking down at it, and was extremely surprised when she sensed another world on the other side.

There was a healer on the other side of the gate!

Solie stood with one hand on her hugely distended stomach, her ankles swollen and her feet aching, staring hopefully upward at the gate to the sylph home world. Half a dozen of Petr's a.s.sistants were chanting, holding steady the swirling, floating opening.

She's right on the other side, Ash was saying. She's looking right at it.

Solie took in a soft breath. They needed a healer desperately, needed to find her before someone else got hurt. While sabotage like the warehouse was no longer likely, accidents happened. Theirs was mostly a farming community, with everyone helping during the harvests and thereby being placed in some limited danger, and human doctors and wise women had nothing on healer sylphs' abilities.

In the center of the circle, a young man named Relig stood and looked up. He'd been used before to try and tempt a healer, with no luck, but he had a serious lung problem that wouldn't let him exert himself without ending up gasping for breath. Luck had been able to keep it under control while she'd been there, but once she'd left, it grew worse again. He needed a healer to keep him healthy.

Relig stood quietly, clutching his chest and gasping, but nothing came through the gate.

"Is she still there?"

She is.

Solie shook her head. "Isn't she going to come across?"

I don't know. There's a battler with her.

Solie cursed. A battle sylph might just stop a healer from coming through. "Offer her some other choices," she decided. "We can't let her get away."

Petr heard. He gestured, and three other people stepped into the circle, all as nervous-looking as Relig, though each with a different ailment. It was hard to say what attracted a healer, but it seemed to be deficiencies that required their talents, health crises not easily fixed. Solie hoped something in this group would coax the newcomer across.

She's still looking, Ash related silently, floating at about eye level in the shape of a rounded ball of flame. She flickered in multiple colors. The battler is getting upset.

"I bet," Solie muttered. "Come on, come over. You know you want to."

Apparently, the healer didn't know that. Or, if she did, she wasn't being allowed to come.

She's leaving, Ash said, sounding as disappointed as Solie felt. The battler is, too. Not far, though. She's still close enough for me to feel her.

This was by far the closest they'd come to finding a replacement for Luck. Solie sighed, frustrated and tired. As far as the sylphs could tell, these gates appeared in a different place in their world every time one was opened. When they next opened one, it might be nowhere near this healer.

"Petr," she called. "Can you keep the gate open? Maybe she'll come back."

Petr frowned, his face covered in scar tissue that he'd never allowed Luck to heal. Solie knew it linked to memories of how his own sylph had died years before, but she'd never asked and he hadn't volunteered the story. Now he rubbed the scar tissue and shrugged.

"We can leave it partially open. Only one of us is needed at a time for that. If she comes back, we can open it wide again."

"Yes. Good."

Solie turned and waddled out, glad this was her last stop of the day. Lizzy was taking on more duties, and of course Ril, Mace, and Leon were always around, with the Widow Blackwell grudgingly helping on a part-time basis, but there were still many duties she handled herself. While she would have to cut back soon, and even more once the baby was born, she wasn't ready to yet. Though, maybe tomorrow, she thought. Her feet ached in her shoes.

Waiting outside, Heyou grinned as she emerged. Ugly and fat as she felt, she knew he still thought her beautiful, though he'd been devastated when she'd lost interest in s.e.x.

Loren and Sh.o.r.e stood with him, along with Sala. Loren said, "Wow, you're big as a house. I think you're twice the size you were last week."

"Gee, thanks. Always love to hear that."

Heyou blinked. "So, why did you tell me to stop comparing you to the cows?"

Loren laughed. "Oh boy. Nice." She shook her head. "We thought we'd stop by for lunch. Sound good to you?"

Solie hesitated. With everything that was happening, she hadn't had much time for her friends. The thought of lunch with Loren and Sh.o.r.e appealed, especially if they could get Lizzy to join them, but she wasn't so sure she wanted Sala around. She risked a glance at the woman, but Sala just stood quietly and Solie decided she was being silly. She had to stop picking on the girl.

"Sounds lovely," she said. "Let's go to the garden."

The women headed off, and Heyou trailed along, swinging his arms. There was no way into Solie's chambers except for being lifted over the wall by a sylph or going in past the battler chamber, so she led the way around to the auxiliary stairs that would lead down past the throne room, thinking as she always did that they should have made the steps less steep. Someone was bound to get hurt.

Chapter Eighteen.

The two other women and Loren's sylph stayed seated at the garden table, the queen barely able to reach over her huge stomach, while Sala went inside to make tea.

She glanced around. She'd been here before, but she hadn't spent much time absorbing the details. The dwelling and furniture were all sylph work, if more angular than their usual aesthetic. Too, the layout was logical, contrary to the earth sylphs' usual whimsy, with the sitting room adjacent to a hall to the kitchen and bedrooms. There was also a door to a stairway that Sala knew went down to the queen's office behind the throne room. They'd used that to get in.

The garden doors opened into a sitting room filled with ornate stone furniture. There were lots of windows and skylights, and everything seemed light and delicate despite being made of stone. There were pillows to soften the places people sat. Sala went into the kitchen, where a fire burned in a stove, pumping heat into the room but not seemingly fed by anything. More sylph work, she knew. They'd have to keep replenishing such a flame, which was why not everyone had them. Sala looked briefly for the entrance the fire sylph would use. It was under the stove, small and out of the way.

She filled a kettle with water from pipes pressurized by water sylphs and set it on to boil. While that was happening, she set out a tray with tea cups and crackers and cheese, then collected some cream and sugar. Of the three tea cups, she lightly dusted the middle one with a white powder from a tiny tin in her pocket. Then she tossed some leaves into the kettle and dawdled just long enough for the tea to steep. With that, she went back outside.

Lizzy had joined them, which gave her a moment's pause. Recovering quickly, Sala carried the tray over and set it on the table, lifting the pot and filling the cups where the women could see her but filling the poisoned cup first, before anyone noticed the powder. Adding sugar and cream, she set that cup on its saucer before the queen.

"For you," she said. "I'll have to get another cup for myself."

"Thank you," Solie said, and turned back to her friend. "Did he say why?"

Lizzy shook her head, accepting an unpoisoned cup and sipping from it immediately. "No. He just said he wanted to test something."

"Is Ril all right?" Solie asked.

"Yes. At least, he is as far as I can tell. I don't know what Dad's up to."

Solie still hadn't drunk any tea. Sala poured for Loren and sat down. "The chancellor is worried about him?" she asked.

Lizzy shrugged. "Yes, he's worried. I don't know about what. I just know he has Ril doing something."

"Great," Loren pouted. "Leon Petrule is worried. That can't be good."

Sala didn't say anything, instead watching out of the corner of her eye. Solie was picking up her tea cup and blowing on it, readying to take that fatal sip . . .

Solie was trying to hide her discomfort at Sala's presence. It was stupid, she knew. The woman hadn't been anything other than nice, and no battler was worried by her. Heyou hadn't even stayed around, finding girl talk boring beyond comprehension.

She tried to let it go and focus on what Lizzy was saying.

"I wish he'd confide in me," the girl sulked. "I mean, I care, too."

"Did you ask?" Loren said, her mouth full of cookie.

"Of course. He said he didn't want to worry me. Too late, I'm already worried! I think he's going to give Ril an order. I mean, we don't do that. We promised."

Solie blew on her tea again, preferring it cool. She could feel how upset Lizzy was. She supposed she would be upset, too, if someone suddenly took Heyou away and told her to stay out of it. She hoped this was nothing. Probably it was nothing. Things were getting back to normal.

Sala was watching her. The woman wasn't looking in her direction, but suddenly Solie knew it with an instinct that made her gut tighten; Sala was looking at her out of the corner of her eye even as she listened to the conversation.