Queen of the Sylphs Read Online Free PDF Page B

corner of the kitchen. Seconds later, Lily heard him roar. A girl screamed, followed by a frightened, inhuman wail. Turning to the window, the Widow watched a black cloud shoot over the front yard and away, pursued by a much larger one. Lily humphed and turned back toward the kitchen.
    “Gabralina!” she called as she entered and herded several children before her. “Come on down, dear. It’s time to make bread.”
    Gabralina hurried down the lane, shivering, her heart still pounding from the fright Mace had given her. She’d been in a very compromising position when he burst in, and Wat almost dropped her on the floor before he fled out the window. She was just glad the Widow hadn’t said anything. She liked the work and needed it. The Widow fed her, but Gabralina also liked to buy clothes and other nice things.
    She kept up a hurried pace toward the town center, a basket in her hand. In it were three loaves of bread. She would trade the loaves for a basket of eggs, which was part of an arrangement that the Widow had with a neighbor. Gabralina supposed that was better than having to clean out a chicken coop every day.
    She reached the main lane and trotted down it, staying to the side where she was out of the way of traffic. There wasn’t much today, but she could see a transport coach moving quickly toward her, drawn by a team of six horses. As it rattled past, Gabralina waved the dust out of her face and checked that none got on her bread. None had.
    Tucking the cloth more closely over them, she looked up. The coach was slowing in the middle of the road, the driver shouting at the horses. Gabralina blinked, recognizing the style of it from her time in Yed. A moment later, the door opened and a woman leaned out. A plain, brown-haired woman in a low-cut red dress.
    “Gabby? Is that you? I knew it was you!”
    Gabralina gaped. “Sala?” she gasped. “Sala!” Dropping her basket, she ran forward with a happy laugh. It was her oldest and closest friend.

Chapter Three
    Rachel had never thought that, in the twilight of her life, she would end up a schoolteacher. Once, she’d been a rich man’s wife, but when he died, her sons took over the business and lost their use for their poor old mother. At first she’d been bitter about that, but no longer. Life was too short—and far too beautiful. Being a teacher, she supposed, made sense. She was educated for a woman of her birth and had learned how to be patient. More importantly, she didn’t have much else to do with her time and she liked to feel needed.
    She looked over her class. The children were all under the age of ten, none terribly interested in what she was trying to teach but required to sit there anyway. All children were obliged to attend school until they were at least twelve or proved they already knew what was needed. It was a rule unique to the Valley, and the children from other places weren’t used to being in the classroom. They fidgeted endlessly.
    “Quiet,” she ordered, tapping the board with her pointer. “Eighty-six plus four hundred and twelve. Who knows the answer?” She looked over all the silent faces. “Surely someone remembers this. We worked on it all last week. Come now. We’re not leaving until someone gets it.”
    Up near the ceiling came a shimmer, an air sylph taking on the translucent form of a young girl so that she could speak. “Four hundred and ninety-eight?” she asked, her voice a throaty whisper. The rule about education applied to the sylphs as well. In some ways, they were better students than the human children. In others, they were far worse. At least they didn’t squirm in their seats waiting for recess.
    Rachel beamed. “Excellent! Thank you, Current.” She tapped the board for the next question. “Three plus three hundred. Anyone?”
    A bell sounded. Immediately, the sylphs hovering around the ceiling and walls of the room were gone, and the children all broke for the door to join the mass exodus from the