blame yourself.”
“But you can never go home! And that man will be after you!”
“Yeah.” She heard him sigh. “I’m trying not to think about that. Sometimes you just have to stand up, though.” He pushed her back and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, leaving Solie to wonder what Heyou would think about him touching her. That brought on an urge to laugh and cry at the same time.
Devon smiled, though his mouth was tight and he had lines between his eyes she didn’t remember from before. She’d never known him very well, but he’d always struck her as a peaceful sort.
“We should try to get some sleep and get moving in the morning,” he told her, “once we can see where we’re going and decide where we’re going to go.”
“Where can we go?” she asked, still gulping air, if mostly sobbed out. She didn’t know the land very well—not past the hamlet in which she was born or her aunt’s town.
“I’m not sure. I think north. If we skirt along the Shale Plains and cross the mountains, we can go to the kingdom of Para Dubh. It’ll be hard, but they won’t look for us there.” I hope, she could almost hear him adding.
“Okay,” she agreed, not knowing what else to suggest. He had a cloak, boots, a flute, and an air sylph who couldn’t carry them very far. She had a worn-out dress and no shoes. Still, she pushed herself to her feet and took a deep breath. “I guess we should find shelter under the trees for now. Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Twenty-eight men were dead, all of their sylphs destroyed. The harvest was lost and they’d only been able to recover a third of their livestock. At least they had enough gear for everyone to camp in, and they still had the ability to bind more sylphs as well. They could rebuild everything, provided they were left alone long enough and they survived the winter.
Morgal stood at the edge of the bluff on which they’d made their camp, staring over his supposed domain. It wasn’t much. A collection of tents and fires, built on the back slope of the cliff. They had close to fifty tents, and two hundred men, women, and children, along with ten fire sylphs, eight air sylphs, seven earth sylphs, four water sylphs, and even a single healer sylph. Back in the valley, all of them together had been a wondrous thing—an invigorating thing. Now it just looked like a dirty camp filled with desperate men.
They’d had battle sylphs sent after them, two battle sylphs that tore into their tiny community, ripping their people apart and scattering them out into the Shale Plains. It had taken them days to regroup here, and cost them half their sylphs and far too many friends for Morgal to want to count, including all of their former leaders. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the icy wind on his face and trying not to get discouraged. He was a thin man, his face gaunt and pitted, and the shortened rations they were all on hadn’t helped. His long hair was thinning on top and graying as well. His left arm was bandaged and it hurt to breathe,but the healer sylph was exhausted. They would have lost far more if it hadn’t been for her, and she still had work to do. He’d have to recover on his own for a while.
Behind him a light flickered, a fire in the shape of a girl staring out over the barren plain. She looked to be made entirely out of burning embers, and was appropriately named Ash. Looking at her, Morgal abruptly tensed. “Are they coming back?” he asked.
The fire sylph shrugged. “No,” she said aloud, and he relaxed. All of the sylphs were watching for attack now. They could sense each other when they were close enough, and they’d feel the battlers before anyone else. Sylphs could hide their energy, but battlers never had a reason. Morgal just hoped that “close enough” wouldn’t turn out to be too close.
He turned and went back across the top of the bluff, Ash at his side, trying not to jar his injuries as he returned to the camp. Survivors
“But you can never go home! And that man will be after you!”
“Yeah.” She heard him sigh. “I’m trying not to think about that. Sometimes you just have to stand up, though.” He pushed her back and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, leaving Solie to wonder what Heyou would think about him touching her. That brought on an urge to laugh and cry at the same time.
Devon smiled, though his mouth was tight and he had lines between his eyes she didn’t remember from before. She’d never known him very well, but he’d always struck her as a peaceful sort.
“We should try to get some sleep and get moving in the morning,” he told her, “once we can see where we’re going and decide where we’re going to go.”
“Where can we go?” she asked, still gulping air, if mostly sobbed out. She didn’t know the land very well—not past the hamlet in which she was born or her aunt’s town.
“I’m not sure. I think north. If we skirt along the Shale Plains and cross the mountains, we can go to the kingdom of Para Dubh. It’ll be hard, but they won’t look for us there.” I hope, she could almost hear him adding.
“Okay,” she agreed, not knowing what else to suggest. He had a cloak, boots, a flute, and an air sylph who couldn’t carry them very far. She had a worn-out dress and no shoes. Still, she pushed herself to her feet and took a deep breath. “I guess we should find shelter under the trees for now. Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Twenty-eight men were dead, all of their sylphs destroyed. The harvest was lost and they’d only been able to recover a third of their livestock. At least they had enough gear for everyone to camp in, and they still had the ability to bind more sylphs as well. They could rebuild everything, provided they were left alone long enough and they survived the winter.
Morgal stood at the edge of the bluff on which they’d made their camp, staring over his supposed domain. It wasn’t much. A collection of tents and fires, built on the back slope of the cliff. They had close to fifty tents, and two hundred men, women, and children, along with ten fire sylphs, eight air sylphs, seven earth sylphs, four water sylphs, and even a single healer sylph. Back in the valley, all of them together had been a wondrous thing—an invigorating thing. Now it just looked like a dirty camp filled with desperate men.
They’d had battle sylphs sent after them, two battle sylphs that tore into their tiny community, ripping their people apart and scattering them out into the Shale Plains. It had taken them days to regroup here, and cost them half their sylphs and far too many friends for Morgal to want to count, including all of their former leaders. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the icy wind on his face and trying not to get discouraged. He was a thin man, his face gaunt and pitted, and the shortened rations they were all on hadn’t helped. His long hair was thinning on top and graying as well. His left arm was bandaged and it hurt to breathe,but the healer sylph was exhausted. They would have lost far more if it hadn’t been for her, and she still had work to do. He’d have to recover on his own for a while.
Behind him a light flickered, a fire in the shape of a girl staring out over the barren plain. She looked to be made entirely out of burning embers, and was appropriately named Ash. Looking at her, Morgal abruptly tensed. “Are they coming back?” he asked.
The fire sylph shrugged. “No,” she said aloud, and he relaxed. All of the sylphs were watching for attack now. They could sense each other when they were close enough, and they’d feel the battlers before anyone else. Sylphs could hide their energy, but battlers never had a reason. Morgal just hoped that “close enough” wouldn’t turn out to be too close.
He turned and went back across the top of the bluff, Ash at his side, trying not to jar his injuries as he returned to the camp. Survivors
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