Queen of the Sylphs by L. J. McDonald

turned back to the battle sylph. “Thank you, Claw,” she said, suddenly wanting him to leave for reasons she couldn’t explain. “Why don’t you go see if Rachel needs your help?”
    Claw gave a convulsive swallow and nodded. Another battler was summoned to take his place as guard, and Solie felt him move inside the house almost immediately, but this one ignored the women as much as they ignored him.
    Solie turned back to Sala, but the woman didn’t meet her gaze, smiling at Gabralina instead. The queen took another sip of her tea, wondering what it was that had her spooked. Maybe her fears were just a woman’s vapors.
    Such thoughts reminded her again of what she wanted and couldn’t have, and she sat in silence and tried not to sigh.
    Justin trudged homeward, tired from his day and bitter about it. Nelson Galway seemed to have an unreasonable expectation of him, considering the man worked for his father. They’d been friends while growing up, but it wasn’t Nelson’s place to hint that Justin wasn’t working hard enough. Justin worked plenty hard. And he’d just gotten back from a terrible trip.
    Ahead, the road branched off toward several different houses, one of them his father’s. Justin had planned to be moved out already, but of course that hadn’t happened. Not without a wife. He could still have a home of his own, but he didn’t want to live alone.
    His father was still finishing up with the cattle, along with Nelson. At least he understood. Seeing those calves being gelded and listening to the screams . . . it was all too much a reminder of Meridal, where his tongue had been cut out. That had been the worst pain in the world, and he couldn’t ever forget it. Even with his tongue restored, he carried too many other scars.
    Justin shuddered and went inside. He headed into the kitchen, where Stria, his father’s earth sylph, was playing with the marbles Cal was always making for her. She had thousands of them, and she never tired of the stupid things. Seeing her just brought the anger back. She was supposed to have been his, just like Lizzy. Justin was supposed to inherit her, along with this house and all the cattle, and he would have been rich, for Stria was an old sylph and powerful. Some of her marbles were made of ruby or emerald, brought up from diving expeditions. His father didn’t do much with them other than turn them into marbles. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t need a lot. Stria had made their home and they owned a large herd. They didn’t need more.
    Justin would have put her to work. He stared at the little mud-covered, squat, doll-like creature. He would have been rich enough to give Lizzy a home that everyone else envied; only now that was impossible. Stria could have a hundred masters, but a human could only have one sylph, and thanks to Meridal, Justin was bound to Ril. He could feel the battle sylph in the back of his mind like a vague itch. He didn’t get more than that and didn’t want it. Ril ignored him, and Justin was glad—or he would have been if the damned battler hadn’t stolen his future. Both Stria and Lizzy.
    He’d come home feeling hunger. Now Justin just felt sick to his stomach again. He turned to go to his room, but halfway across the kitchen, his foot shot out from under him and he had to grab the counter to keep from falling. Stria turned her broad, flat face toward him, her chinless mouth hanging open. He’d slipped on one of her marbles, he realized, and he saw her swallow convulsively.
    Justin’s anger surged. She’d never be his, and all she cared about were her bloody marbles! “How can you be so stupid!” he shouted. “Are you trying to kill me?”
    Stria cringed, mumbling an apology he couldn’t really hear, then plopped out of her chair and shuffled hurriedly across the floor to recover her errant toys. She left dirty footprints as she went. She was always tracking mud into the house.
    “You’re making a mess!” he screamed, truly