The Sylph Hunter (7 page)

That almost resulted in it blowing back out over the ocean again. The more it ate, the more the gases that kept it in the air increased, lifting it higher. Too high and it wouldn’t be able to reach the ground unless it let some of the gas go or waited to grow hungry again. If a strong enough wind caught it before then, it could end up just about anywhere.

Mostly, it was a self-correcting problem, since if it started to rise too high, it wouldn’t be able to reach the food on the ground. It glutted itself though, snatching up the food and devouring it as fast as it could, and rose high with food still in its tendrils, waiting to be swallowed.

It barely managed to grab the edge of one of the things the food called
buildings
before the winds took it back out again. Satisfied, it wrapped some of its strongest tentacles around the building, digging its hooks into the soft stone, and ate the rest of the food it had. It couldn’t rely on the winds here, it decided. They would only drive it back out to the ocean, and as it hung there, it saw that it didn’t matter if they blew in the other direction anyway. The word
city
was surrounded by the word
desert
and there was no food out there at all. It would have to stay in this unprotected hive and hope it learned from the food where to go next before it ate all of them.

For now, as always, the food didn’t know it was there, which would make the hunting easier, at least until the battlers realized what was happening. Sometimes that made the hunting even better if they didn’t just hide in their hive, and there was no hiding here. It dug its tentacle deeper into the stone. It could tear this city apart to reach the food if it needed to.

Crumbled stone fell to the street below and it wrapped another of its largest tentacles around a second building, watching with interest as battle sylphs arrived below, searching. The rest of its tentacles it pulled up. If one of the battle sylphs blundered into one, it wouldn’t matter how much it didn’t want to rise any higher. It would eat them anyway.

It got the tentacles out of the way just in time as one of the battlers swept through where they’d been, hundreds of feet below its actual body. The battler didn’t react at all, but of course, he couldn’t see it. None of the food could ever see a Hunter and it listened with sleepy interest as they searched the harbor and discussed what might have happened. None of them suspected it, which was good. The food tasted better when it was just newly frightened and not worn out by terror.

Floating in the air above the harbor, hanging on to one of the watchtowers that framed the main gate to the city, the Hunter slept, and listened, and consumed.

CHAPTER FOUR

Z
alia was back at the restaurant before dawn, after a nervous bath at the back of the stable where she was half afraid and half hoping that One-Eleven would return. He didn’t, or if he did, he just watched her in secrecy, and she tried to keep him out of her mind while she wiped down the tables and served water and cheese to the customers.

“He’s coming back,” Ilaja said, sounding annoyed.

Her heart suddenly pounding in her chest, Zalia spun around. It wasn’t One-Eleven, she saw with something that might have been relief and something else that was probably regret. Of course it wasn’t him. He’d never been to the restaurant and Ilaja didn’t know anything about him.

Instead, Devon Chole was walking down the street, the dawn light shining on his face and fluttering hair. He was wearing the same clothes and boots as the day before and he looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, or even stopped walking.

Zalia gaped at him in surprise, her daydreams about One-Eleven blowing out of her mind as she took in how tired and stressed he looked. Her heart surged for the poor man and she ran forward, meeting him at the edge of the patio.

“I didn’t think I’d ever find this place again,” he sighed. “This whole city is a maze.”

“What happened, Mr. Chole?” she gasped, daringly reaching out toward him before snatching her arm back.

He didn’t seem to notice her unseemly forwardness, stomping up onto the patio as though he barely had the energy to do so. His hair was still fluffing around, but not so much as the day before. Zalia thought about what her father said about wanting to meet him, but discarded the idea for now. He didn’t look as if he had it in him to do anything other than fall down. His skin was badly sunburned from the previous day and he moved slowly as she led him to a seat away from the other customers. Ilaja sniffed noticeably from across the patio, but Zalia’s heart clenched again at how much he needed her help, and how sweet the lines around his eyes were when he still found it in himself to smile at her.

“It’s been a long night,” he told her and slumped into his seat. “I’ve been walking since dusk.”

“Whatever for?” she gasped. If she’d known he’d get so lost, she’d have guided him back to the harbor herself, though of course, she couldn’t if she wanted to keep her job.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go.” He ran his hand through his hair wearily and looked around. “Can I stay here for a while? I mean if I keep ordering water or something? And food. I’m really hungry.”

Zalia looked around at the nearly empty patio. “I think it’ll be okay,” she assured him with a smile and hurried off to fill his order.

Devon was nearly at the end of his endurance when he found the restaurant again and actually saw someone he recognized. In that instant, Zalia was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life, and when she returned his smile, probably without realizing it, a lot of the tension that kept him walking all night eased. He was still exhausted though and he slumped into a chair, not wanting to go anywhere for as long as he could manage it. His sword scabbard banged him painfully in the leg and he shoved it out of his way with a sigh. When Zalia returned with a bowl of something that looked like brown paste, flat pieces of bread, and a pitcher of water, her second smile made him want to put his head down on the table and sleep, safe at last. If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have wondered about that.

Zalia set the food before him and poured the water, smiling at him again as she did so. “The hummus is fresh,” she told him. “I hope you like it.”

“Thank you,” Devon said, wondering what hummus was and what he was supposed to do without a spoon.

“You scoop it with the bread,” she added as he stared at it.

“Oh.” Picking up one of the pie-shaped pieces of bread, he spooned up some of the paste and put it in his mouth. The taste was smooth with a bit of tang but delicious.

“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.

“It’s really good,” Devon said, chewing hurriedly and grabbing his water for a drink. It really was, though he didn’t recognize the taste at all. “What is it?”

“Pita and hummus.”

Another woman stepped over to them, touching Zalia’s arm with a distrustful look at Devon. It said
different
to him as clearly as if she’d shouted it. She whispered something to Zalia and hurried away toward the other customers, most of whom were staring at Devon.

Zalia smiled at him again, and this time her smile was a little sad, as though she were reluctant to go. “Please let me know if you want something else,” she told him and hurried away. Stopping a few feet away, she looked back at him. “Oh, please see me before you go.” She blushed. “My father wants to meet you. I’ll explain later.”

Devon watched her go, his food and water forgotten despite his hunger. She really was a nice-looking girl, he thought.

She likes you,
Airi giggled in his mind.

Devon started at Airi’s voice, realized he was staring after Zalia, and returned to his food. “She’s just being nice,” he murmured before shoving more pita and hummus into his mouth. He wasn’t sure which was which, but he liked them.

No, she likes you. Her pattern flows around yours.

Devon almost gagged and had to take a quick swallow of the water. It wasn’t very cold, but it still tasted wonderful, even better than wine.

“You’re crazy,” he told Airi, barely remembering to keep his voice down. He hated talking to her just in his head, always afraid he’d start thinking something he didn’t want to say and have her hear it by accident, but he didn’t want anyone overhearing him either.

Am not,
she retorted, a little miffed.
Her pattern meshes with yours. It’s pretty. She likes you too.

“I don’t like her,” Devon spurted, loud enough that the people at the nearest table turned to stare at him.

Yes, you do,
Airi informed him smugly.
I can feel emotions, remember? You like her, she likes you. It’s fun.

“I’m too tired to like anybody,” Devon muttered, though he didn’t really feel that way at the moment. Airi had never said this about any woman to him, though according to his own father, she’d done so once with him. That had been with actions then instead of words and had been when the man first met Devon’s mother. Airi had no interest in romance, but she definitely understood love.

Devon watched Zalia come out of the kitchens with another pitcher of water for another table. She was demure and quiet, her skin darker than any woman’s he’d ever seen and her hair a wave of solid black that reached to the small of her back. Her nose was long and her cheekbones high. She looked underfed and almost scrawny, and now that he thought about it, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

See?
Airi said.

It wasn’t fair! He didn’t have time to run into some potential love of his life. Not in a city he didn’t know on the other side of the world from everything he’d ever known. Not when he was all alone except for an air sylph in an alien hive where his only allies had vanished, leaving blood trails and broken doors behind. He was supposed to go home in a year, only he couldn’t. Not when Heyou was waiting to tear his guts out, just in case he developed some sort of interest in his own biological child. The child he hadn’t wanted to help father. How could
this
get added to all of
that
?

Because something had to go right?
Airi asked reasonably.

Devon almost snorted the pita, or perhaps it was the hummus, out his nose.

Zalia’s shift was unbelievably long, even for someone born in Eferem, where there was no such thing as workers’ rights. Devon watched her serve water and food, clear tables, and clean dishes from when he arrived before dawn to well after dark. He stayed in the corner where she’d put him, paying a penny each hour for the privilege and to keep the water flowing, and probably slept in his seat for a portion of the day. At the very least, he seemed to lose track of a few hours.

Finally though, it was night again and the oppressive heat fled. Zalia’s coworker, who’d glared at Devon periodically during the day—when she wasn’t ignoring him—wandered away into the darkness with the cooks from the kitchen, and Zalia came over to him.

“Did you enjoy your nap, sir?” she asked him with a smile.

Devon jerked upright. “Urg…wha—?” he managed. Airi started giggling and ruffled all the hair on his head straight up. Zalia started giggling as well.

Normally, Devon would have been terribly embarrassed to have two females laughing at him, but something about Zalia made him feel too comfortable for that, and of course, he was used to Airi’s sense of humor.

Without his realizing she was about to, Airi appeared at his side, solidifying into a young girl with hair as long as Zalia’s, though she was almost colorless. It was something she did extremely rarely; usually when Airi wanted a human to see her, she just pulled bits of fluff and detritus into her pattern and used them to form the outline of her shape. Going solid didn’t come as naturally to air sylphs as it did the other elementals. Devon stared at her in surprise while Zalia gasped with shock and, to Devon’s relief, delight.

“Thank you for letting us sit here all day,” Airi said to Zalia.

Zalia clasped her hands together. “Oh, you’re so beautiful! You’re really a sylph?”

Airi nodded and beamed at the young woman, her hair blowing in a breeze that wasn’t there for the two humans. “I am.”

Zalia looked toward Devon. “I don’t think I’ve ever really seen a sylph,” she admitted. “Not up close.” A sudden blush covered her face. “Well, just a few times.”

Devon blinked, rubbing his stubbled cheek and really regretting what he was sure his breath smelled like right now. Through the fuzz and heat of the day, he’d noticed there weren’t any sylphs passing by. He’d hoped there would be, so he could ask one of them where the queen was. Perhaps they didn’t mingle with humans who weren’t their masters here. “Do you know where the sylphs are?” he asked Zalia. Airi couldn’t sense any, but it was a huge city and they weren’t from her hive. She’d sense them if they were close enough, but until then they were lost.

Actually, she’d sensed many battle sylphs during the day, but neither of them were prepared to go near that kind of sylph if they didn’t absolutely have to. Being surrounded last night had been bad enough.

Devon shuddered at the memory, but Zalia didn’t notice, thinking. “I’m not sure,” she finally said. “I’ve heard rumors, but I’m not positive where to look. We should go and talk to my father. He wants to meet you.”

So she’d said before. Devon stood, content with the idea of spending more time with her. “Lead the way,” he told her and saw her blush prettily and look down, a tiny smile on her lips. Devon’s heart gave a great thump and he offered his arm, wanting nothing more than for her to take it. She looked puzzled for a moment, but put her arm timidly around his and walked with him, Devon letting her take the lead through the darkened streets. Airi giggled happily and played with both their hair, tangling it together in the air behind them.