The Siren Depths

Volume Three of the Books of the Raksura

Martha Wells

To Troyce Wilson, for believing in me.

Chapter One

“It’s a long way,” Moon said. He walked along the wide expanse of the branch, his heel claws catching in the rough wood. The air was fresh and cool and green-tinged early morning sunlight filtered down through the thick layers of the mountain-tree’s leafy canopy. “I think you’re taking too many Arbora.” He was trying to come up with better objections to the trip, but so far that was all he had.

“I know I’m taking too many Arbora.” Stone was in his groundling form, sitting on the branch, surveying the two flying boats below. “Try telling them that.”

The boats had been tethered to one of the colony tree’s larger garden platforms so they could be loaded more easily. Both were from the Golden Isles, with long graceful hulls made of lacquered wood and sails fan-folded up into the single central masts. Together the two ships had been large enough for the entire Indigo Cloud court to crowd aboard, but on the way back they would carry only four overexcited Arbora, six warriors resigned to their fate, and one impatient groundling.

A small crowd had gathered on the boats and the grassy platforms below the hulls, mostly Arbora carrying provisions aboard or finishing off the last few repairs, or who were saying goodbye to the travelers. Several warriors flew circles around the masts, staying out of the way.

“I can see why you need Blossom,” Moon admitted. Niran, the groundling whose family owned the vessels, had taught Blossom to pilot the smaller ship, the Indala, on the long journey to the Reaches. She would be piloting it again on the longer journey back to the Yellow Sea. Once the two ships reached the Golden Isles and Niran’s family, Stone and the other Raksura would fly back under their own power, the warriors carrying the flightless Arbora. “Why do you need the others?”

“Company for Blossom. And Niran.” Stone unfolded long legs and pushed to his feet. His groundling form was lean and tall, like Moon’s groundling form, like the groundling forms of most Aeriat Raksura. He had one bad eye, partially blinded by a white haze across the pupil, and was so old his skin and hair had faded to gray. He also wore gray, pants and a loose shirt. “And for me. I’m not spending this trip trapped on those flying baskets with nobody but warriors to talk to.”

Stone was cranky, moody, and had lied to get Moon to follow him across the Three Worlds, and Moon wanted him to leave slightly less than he wanted to lose a wing. They were the only two adult consorts in the court, and Moon needed the company and the reinforcement. And Stone was the closest he had ever had to a father, or a male relative of any kind. And he thought he had succeeded in concealing all that, but one of Stone’s more annoying qualities was his ability to guess what Moon was thinking. Stone glanced at him, amusement in his one good eye, and said, “I won’t be gone that long.”

Before Moon could retort that he didn’t give a piss how long Stone was gone, Stone shifted, dropped off the branch, and spread his wings to glide down toward the flying boats.

Stone’s winged form was huge; tip to tip his wings were more than three times the size of Moon’s twenty pace span. Raksuran queens and consorts grew larger and stronger as they grew older, and Stone was very old. Old and experienced enough to get the boats and Niran to their islands and the Arbora and warriors safely home, Moon reminded himself. He knew all his objections were irrational. And maybe you’re just jealous. Squelching that thought, he dropped off the branch, snapped his wings out, and swept down toward the platform.

On the way down, Moon banked out to catch the spray from the waterfall where it fell from a channel in the mountain-tree’s entrance knothole. The water plunged down to collect in various pools on the wide platforms extending out from the trunk, formed where the tree’s thick branches grew together and intertwined in broad swathes.

Moon circled above the Indala and Valendera where they were tethered near an irrigation pond, rope ladders dangling down from their decks so the Arbora wouldn’t scale the wooden hulls. Sanding out claw marks had been one of the major repairs they had had to make, along with rebraiding ropes and patching tears in the sails. From what he could see, the water casks and food supplies had already been loaded, and the Arbora on the decks mostly just milled around, talking.

Moon spotted Chime near the stern of the Indala and landed lightly in the high grass next to him. Chime ducked as Moon shook the water off his scales, and said grumpily, “Consorts are allowed to sleep late, you know.”

Moon lowered his spines and folded his wings into a compact mass on his back. “I wanted to see them off. What are you doing up this early?” Chime didn’t usually crawl out of his bower-bed until mid-morning at the earliest. The times Moon had slept with him, he had had to climb over Chime’s unresponsive body to get out.

“I wanted to see them off too, but I’m also on patrol today.” Chime absently kicked a tuft of grass, annoyed.

Moon was unsympathetic. Patrol meant a day of circling the immediate area under the mountain-tree’s canopy, watching for predators and other incursions, not exactly a difficult job. And while it might be dull, at least it was a necessary task. Trying to change the subject, he said, “I’m glad you decided not to go with the ships.”

Chime shrugged his spines a little uncomfortably. “After Flower died, I thought I’d better stay here. Maybe I can give Heart advice, at least.” He had started out life as an Arbora, a mentor; the pressure of disease and lack of warrior births at the old colony had forced the change to warrior on him. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t fully reconciled to it.

Moon said, “Heart can probably use the help.” She was the most powerful mentor in the court now, the leader of the caste, since Flower had died two months ago. But she was young, and some members of the court weren’t happy with her as chief mentor. Like they weren’t happy with a mostly feral solitary with no bloodline as their first consort.

“Maybe I’m a little afraid, too,” Chime said, as he looked up at the Indala. The ship moved gently, swayed by the breeze, the light wood creaking. “Our last trip was…a little much. That’s as close as I want to come to being eaten by something.”

That was putting it mildly. “I don’t think this trip will be that bad.”

“I hope not. The mentors have been doing auguries, and they haven’t seen anything bad, but…” Chime sighed in resignation. “You know that’s not always reliable.”

Yes, Moon knew that wasn’t always reliable.

A last flurry of Arbora leapt or scrambled down off the boats. Blossom and Bead appeared at the railing, saw Moon and Chime, and waved, both of them bouncing with excitement. Moon waved back, though he wished they weren’t going either. He liked them, and they both tended to defend him to the other Arbora. He tried not to feel like he was losing some of his best allies and told himself they would only be gone a few months at most.

“Here comes Jade,” Chime said.

Moon looked up as Jade banked down from above, the soft vivid blue of her scales standing out against the gray wall of the mountain-tree’s trunk. She headed directly for the Indala’s deck.

“I guess Pearl’s not coming.” Chime watched the knothole, but no one else appeared.

Pearl didn’t like groundlings, but it was Moon’s opinion that she didn’t much like Raksura, either. The Arbora had held a formal goodbye for Niran last night, and Pearl probably considered it all that was necessary.

Moon partly extended his wings and leapt up to land on the railing, careful not to score the newly polished wood with his claws. Chime landed after him and headed down to the stern toward Blossom and Bead.

Jade stood on the deck, speaking to Niran. “I want to thank you again for helping us,” she said. “If you hadn’t, we would never have made it here.” She stood out, even among the brightly colored Arbora crowded around. As a queen she was larger, stronger, with a silver-gray web pattern over her scales. Her mane of frills and spines reached all the way down her back to the base of her tail. Her only clothing was a broad necklace and belt with silver chains linking polished opals.

Niran shook his head, a little self-conscious. He was about the size of an Arbora, but slimly built, with gold-colored skin and long straight white hair. He had distrusted the Raksura at first, but forced proximity and shared danger had brought him a long way since then. He said, “It was my grandfather who insisted on helping you, but I’m glad he did.” He waved a hand at the clearing, taking in the mountain-trees, the platforms of the suspended forest, all of the Reaches. “I wouldn’t have missed this trip for anything. My only regret is that Grandfather will be furious that he missed it, and undoubtedly take it out on me.” He nodded to Moon and added, “And I know he would like to see you again, if you ever return to the east.”

“I won’t be going back,” Moon said. He wasn’t happy to see Niran go, either. In the times when life with the court became overwhelmingly strange, it had been good to have a groundling to talk to. But he knew how much Niran missed his family and the Golden Isles. “But thank him for me.”

Everyone said their last goodbyes, or in Stone’s case, cuffed Moon in the head and said, “Don’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

Moon and Jade retreated to the knothole to watch the boats leave. The Arbora on the platform untied the ropes and both craft lifted easily into the air. Their sails didn’t expand; the ships were powered by tiny pieces of rock from the heart of a flying island that allowed them to travel on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds. The sails were only for extra speed on windy days. The Valendera floated gracefully off the platform, then turned to find the path through the green caverns of the mountain-tree forest. The Indala followed, its hull scraping a spiral tree on the edge of the platform and its turn just a little jerky. Moon hoped Blossom didn’t run into anything on the way out of the Reaches. The path upward through the tree canopies wasn’t that far away, and he thought she would do better once she was up in the open air.

That was Moon’s last tie to his past, to the groundling world, severed. It should have felt like a relief. Moon wasn’t sure what he felt. Which was nothing new, so maybe he shouldn’t worry about it.

Jade took Moon’s wrist. She looked thoughtful. “Do you wish you were going?”

Startled and guilty, Moon felt himself flush. “No,” he said. “Why would you think that?”

She shook her head, and watched the boats slowly vanish into the dim light and mist of the forest. “You’ve always traveled so much. Is it hard to stay in one place?”

“No, it’s not hard. It’s just…different.” Moon didn’t think staying in one place would be the problem.

* * *

Three Changes of the Month Later

Moon had, at several points since they arrived at the new colony, asked various people exactly what consorts were supposed to do, besides be mated to a queen to produce royal clutches and infertile warriors for the court. The fact that no one seemed to have a straight answer wasn’t encouraging.

When he asked Chime, they were out watching over the Arbora hunters, who were stalking game on the platforms of the suspended forest. The court was still unsure of all the dangers in this new place, and it was much safer to have a group of warriors keep watch when the hunters were focused on their prey, while the soldiers stayed behind to guard the platforms and entrances of the colony tree. Since Aeriat, especially royal Aeriat, didn’t normally hunt, Moon was technically supposed to be just along for the exercise, even though he had more experience with hunting and being stalked than all the warriors put together.

Moon had been able to help a little with the warriors’ other new duties, like exploring Indigo Cloud’s new territory and helping the hunters make detailed maps of the platforms and the connecting bridges between them. They were also noting predators and all the different types of grasseaters and where they ranged, which were abundant and made good staple prey, and which were scarce and better left alone to increase over long periods.

Answering his question, Chime said, “Consorts are supposed to listen to the Arbora, any concerns they have, or things they aren’t happy about, and try to gently point it out to the queens.”

Perched near them, Balm said, wryly, “It helps if they listen to the warriors, too.”

“Of course,” Chime said, as if that was self-evident. Then ruined it by adding, “But warriors’ concerns are too frivolous to worry about.”

Balm eyed him. “So who cares what warriors think?” Balm was Jade’s clutchmate, one of the female warriors sometimes born to queen’s clutches. Having been a warrior all her life, her perspective was somewhat different than Chime’s.

Moon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the platform, feeling the conversation had gone off on a tangent that would make it difficult if not impossible to return to the original subject. The afternoon was warm and the air so damp it might as well be raining, the light dim through cloud cover somewhere high above the leafy canopy. From the branch they had a view across to the platform about two hundred paces below, where the Arbora hunted.

It was a huge surface, spiraling halfway around the enormous bulk of a mountain-tree, heavily forested with a stream of runoff falling down onto the smaller platforms nestled in the branches below it. Moon could catch occasional flashes of color from the Arbora’s scales as they climbed and leapt among the thick greenery. Arbora might be smaller than Aeriat and lack wings, but in their shifted forms they were scaled and powerfully muscled, and their teeth and claws were just as sharp. Unfortunately, the suspended forest was just as rife with predators as it was with grasseaters.

Moon wasn’t as worried about the forested hunting ground as he was the platform directly below it. It was overshadowed and overgrown with bulbous white vines with dark purple leaves, concealed by drifts of mist. What little he could see looked dangerous and Moon thought all it needed were piles of bones along its rotting edges.

Balm was saying, “If you don’t listen to the warriors it just causes more problems with the young males—”

Chime snorted in a derisive way that was an invitation for Balm to hit him. “Warriors complain a lot. Much more than Arbora. If you listen to them you wouldn’t have time for—”

“All you people complain more than anybody else I’ve ever met,” Moon said, “with less reason.” He had tried to keep his opinions on running the court to himself, because there was nothing he knew less about than managing a Raksuran colony. And he thought Jade did a good job of keeping an eye on the Arbora and the warriors. He had no intention of butting in and causing trouble by repeating “concerns” unless he knew a lot more about the situation.

Chime stiffened in offense, but Balm laughed. “It’s probably true.”

Moon nudged his shoulder against Chime’s. “It was a joke.”

“It was not.” But Chime settled his ruffled spines anyway. “Oh, speaking of complaining, there was something I wanted to let you know. I heard some of the others talking: they’re worried that Stone won’t come back.”

Moon frowned, startled. “Why wouldn’t he come back?”

Balm said, “He’s been gone a lot over the last twenty turns or so. He was gone more than he was at the old colony.” She shrugged her folded wings, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t know, but I think that was one of the reasons things got so bad. For example, if he was there, I don’t think Pearl would have sent Dust and Burn off to other courts.”

Moon didn’t comment. Dust and Burn were the young consorts who had belonged to Amber, the sister queen who had died before Moon had come to the court. If they had still been there, Jade would have been able to take one of them and there would have been no need for Stone to go on the trip to Star Aster to ask for a consort, which had led him to find Moon.

“So, since we’re settled here now, there’s been some talk that he might leave again,” Chime finished. He turned to Moon, his brow scrunched in worry. “What do you think?”

Moon rippled his spines, hoping he was conveying unconcern. One of the things he had finally figured out over the past few months was that while he could read Raksuran body language fine, his own didn’t quite match theirs and didn’t always mean what he thought it did. Realizing this had explained at least some of his problems fitting into the court. “Stone didn’t sound like he wasn’t coming back.” And Moon had had the strong impression that Stone was ready to settle down. “He’s wanted to come to the Reaches for a long time; I don’t think he was planning to leave any time soon.”

“That’s good.” Chime settled his spines, then said, reluctantly, “Of course, River said—”

Balm hissed in disapproval. “Chime, no one cares what River said.”

Moon could guess what this was about. “I’d rather not be blind-sided.” River was Pearl’s favorite warrior, and the leader of her faction. Like Balm, he was a warrior from a royal clutch; in River’s case, it had given him an attitude. It had been made worse by the fact that Pearl, for some unfathomable reason, had decided to sleep with him.

After the trip back from the freshwater sea, Moon had been hoping River would be reconciled to his existence. He hadn’t been. If anything, their relationship was worse, since Moon had realized that River wasn’t just making trouble, he really did honestly think Moon was a terrible consort and bad for the court.

Balm’s face was grim. Chime flicked his spines at her and said, “It’s ridiculous, but River said Stone was going to use the trip to the Golden Isles as a way to look for another consort.” Looking at Moon, Chime’s expression turned guilty. “It’s not true, of course. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“That’s why I told you not to,” Balm said.

Chime hissed at her. Moon said, “It’s all right. I would have heard it sooner or later.”

Chime still looked uneasy. “I just—”

A distant shriek made Moon’s spines flare. He went still and scanned the platform.

“That was an Arbora,” Chime whispered, shocked. “Someone’s hurt.”

Balm shushed him. Then she said, “There! See it?” an instant before Moon spotted the thrashing in the undergrowth, near the center of the wooded platform. He sprang off the branch, snapped his wings out and dropped toward it, hard flaps speeding his way.

Balm and Chime were right behind him. Several other warriors dropped off various branches and vantage points to converge on the spot.

Moon dove on the platform and saw the flicker of scales through the trees and undergrowth as Arbora ran toward the disturbance. From the way the trees swayed and thrashed, whatever they were fighting in there was huge.

Then Balm called to him, “Moon, stay back! Let us handle it!”

Moon swallowed a growl but broke off, letting the others go in first. But he swept around in a tight circle, cupped his wings to slow down, and dropped into the branches of a spiral tree. He climbed down until he had a view of the fight.

He saw a hole in the platform floor, surrounded by clumps of dirt and grass and torn roots. Something was inside it, visible only as white tentacles a good twenty paces long. They had clawed tips, striking and slashing at the warriors and Arbora who dodged and struck back. The creature had one struggling Arbora in its grip, and two others lay sprawled on the ground nearby.

As the warriors attacked, two Arbora closed in, armed with the short spears they used to augment their own claws for hunting. They stabbed at the tentacle that held the captive hunter. The warriors swooped in from above to strike at it. Balm ripped one tentacle open with her foot-claws. Chime tried a similar strike, missed, and almost had an aerial collision with Sage, but it still helped distract the creature.

The warriors tore at it and the creature seemed to realize it was badly outnumbered. It tossed the hunter away and pulled its tentacles back into its lair. That’s a relief, Moon thought. The thing looked as if it would be nearly impossible to fight in that defensive position. Now they just needed to retrieve the wounded and get out of here.

The Arbora grabbed the unconscious hunters and retreated as the creature sunk rapidly down into its hole. Then one tentacle snapped out, snatched a warrior out of the air, and yanked him down just as the creature disappeared underground. Moon gasped in dismay.

With a chorus of shocked cries and angry growls, everyone charged the opening.

That’s not going to work, Moon thought. They couldn’t possibly retrieve the warrior without losing half the others. Unless…These platforms weren’t thick enough for an underground nest for something that large, and they were mostly roots. If that’s not a lair, it’s a tunnel.

He scrambled back up the tree, sprang into the air, and headed for the edge of the platform. Someone shouted behind him but he couldn’t stop to explain. If he was right, he would only have a few moments to catch the creature.

He reached the edge and dove down, past the exposed roots jutting out from the side, and swung in to land on the platform fifty paces below. The white vines stretched up over his head, filling the damp air with a scent like sweet rot; the purple leaves cut off what little light there was. He scanned the underside of the platform above and spotted the torn roots and moss bundles hanging down where the creature had tunneled up through the forest platform to attack the Arbora. Ha, I was right. And he could hear something thrashing in the vines in that direction.

Moon tore through the thick vegetation, relying on speed and surprise to protect him from whatever else lived here, and headed toward the sound.

It cut off abruptly and Moon knew the creature had heard him. He crouched and sprang up, two flaps taking him high enough to catch hold of the mass of twisted roots that formed the underside of the upper platform. The creature might be able to spot him, but the vantage point gave him a view of the vine surface.

Dirt clumps fell down the tunnel opening, and warriors and Arbora yelled at each other somewhere above. But below it, and as far as he could see, the vines were completely motionless. Moon hissed in frustration. The creature had to be here somewhere; it hadn’t had time to dig down through to another platform.

He sensed movement near him and looked up with a snarl. A tree frog nearly twice his size huddled in the roots barely ten paces away, staring at him with wide frightened eyes.

Moon had never tried to talk to a tree frog before, but it was worth a try. In Raksuran, he said, “Where is it?”

It might not have understood the language, but it had seen enough of the situation to get the idea. It pointed to a spot about thirty paces south of the tunnel opening.

Moon didn’t hesitate, swinging across the root mass until he was above the spot. He caught a flash of slick white skin, too iridescent to be one of the vines, and dropped for it.

He crashed through the flowers into purple-tinged darkness and landed on something hard that writhed and snarled in fury. Moon sunk his claws in and yelled for help. He thought he heard a hoarse echo that sounded like Chime, then shouts from the Arbora. Then a tentacle whipped down and wrapped around his waist, and Moon stopped paying attention to anything else.

It dragged him off the creature’s body, slammed him into the rotting moss, and started to squeeze. Stunned, Moon curled around it and sunk his teeth into the dense flesh. The creature must not have been expecting that much resistance because he felt its body jerk. The tentacle under him flailed and tried to slam him down again.

Moon bit through a vein filled with some of the worst-tasting blood he had ever encountered, then felt another tentacle slap down and grab his leg. He had an instant to think, Oh, this is going to be bad. Then he heard a chorus of snarls and wingbeats as the rest of the warriors arrived in an angry rush.

The tentacle flung Moon aside. He hit the ground hard and rolled, then staggered up to see tentacles flailing as the creature tried to flee. Warriors landed on the body, and several big Arbora leapt through the vines after it.

Moon spat out blood, decided the others could finish the creature off, and started to tear through the crushed vines, looking for the warrior. He found the crumpled body a short distance away. It was Sand, a young warrior of Jade’s faction. He was unconscious, shifted to his groundling form, but still breathing.

Chime crashed through the vines as Moon gently felt Sand’s ribs to see how bad the breaks were. His own chest hurt and his ribs ached, so he knew Sand had to be badly off.

“You’re alive! He’s alive!” Chime shouted, waving to the Arbora who climbed out of the tunnel in the platform above. “Moon got Sand, and they’re both alive!”

“Chime, Chime, take a breath,” Moon said, his voice coming out hoarse.

Sand’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned, then gasped, “What happened?”

“Nothing. We’ll tell you later.” Moon eased down into a sitting position. “Just lie still.” He asked Chime, “Were the Arbora all right?”

Chime nodded, stepping through the crushed vines to crouch next to Sand. “Three of them are hurt, but nobody’s dead.” He touched Sand’s forehead and frowned in concentration. Watching his face, Moon saw the moment when he remembered again that he wasn’t a mentor and couldn’t put Sand in a healing trance. Chime winced and drew his hand back, and Moon looked away.

After a moment, Chime said, “I hate hunting.”

* * *

Nobody had been eaten, so Moon was counting it as a pretty good day. The warriors transported the wounded, the Arbora, and their kills to the colony. Moon went back with the first group. He managed to slip away from the storm of exclamations, explanations, and recriminations that immediately erupted in the greeting hall and flew up the central well to the queens’ level.

No one was out in the queens’ hall, which was a relief. It was a big chamber, the far side looking out into the colony tree’s central well, with the open gallery of the consort level above it. There was a fountain against the inner wall, falling down into a shallow pool, and above it a huge sculpture of a queen. Her outspread wings stretched out across the walls to circle the entire hall, finally meeting tip to tip. Her scales, set with polished sunstones, glinted faintly in the soft light of shells mounted on the walls that were spelled to glow. He heard muted conversation from the direction of Pearl’s bower and quickly took the passage that led into Jade’s.

At first, Jade hadn’t wanted to move up here, feeling that the bower near the teachers’ hall that she and Moon had shared when they first arrived was more convenient. But when visitors from other courts started to appear, it would look as if Indigo Cloud was far worse off than it actually was if the royal bowers were empty. These chambers held what Moon thought was some of the best carving in the colony and had their own hot bathing pool.

The heating stones in the metal bowl hearth radiated warmth, and Moon leaned down to put the kettle on. His ribs twinged, pain spreading up from his waist to his chest, and he winced. He shifted to groundling, then carefully pulled up his shirt to look at the damage.

He already had some bruises, black and purplish against the dark bronze of his groundling skin, but he didn’t think anything was broken. But climbing up into the bed, a big wooden half-shell suspended from the ceiling, might be out for tonight. He could make do with sleeping on the furs and cushions near the hearth.

Then Jade slammed in from the passage and hissed at him. “You could have gotten killed.”

Or maybe he wouldn’t be sleeping in this bower at all. “We don’t live in a safe place, Jade. We all might get killed.”

She didn’t like that answer. Her head tilted. “So maybe we should avoid throwing ourselves on top of predators. Alone. Without waiting for help.”

“There wasn’t time.” Moon grimaced and managed to pull his shirt off over his head. “You’ve told me—twice!—to go after Fell—”

“The first time, I didn’t expect you to actually attack a cloud-walker, and the second time, I told you to follow the kethel, not personally invade the Fell flight.”

Moon had been scouting, not invading, but he didn’t bother to mention that. “I don’t see your point.”

Jade’s first burst of anger was already fading to exasperation. “My point is that you are the first consort. My first consort. You can’t afford to risk yourself.”

“I’m not going to stand by and let someone get eaten.”

“I know. I know you’re not.” She pressed her hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. “But…you have other responsibilities.”

Other responsibilities, like fathering a clutch. Moon waited, his heart pounding, for her to bring that up.

Jade had decided three months ago, after the flying boats had left, that they should have a clutch, but nothing had happened yet. Moon was doing his part at every opportunity, so he had no idea what was wrong. And he found himself extremely reluctant to ask Jade if she had changed her mind.

He had also wondered if having a clutch was harder than he had supposed. He had seen groundlings have babies, but never another Raksura; he hadn’t even been sure if they had live births or eggs, and he hadn’t known that queens and Arbora females could control their fertility. Because of the problems at the old colony, all of the Arbora had stopped clutching long before Moon had gotten there, and the youngest babies had been nearly a turn old. But if there was something he was doing wrong, he was certain Jade would have pointed it out.

At one point another possible answer had occurred to him, but since Stone had already left with Niran and the others, there was no one to ask about it.

Jade looked at him and must have sensed his agitation. She shifted to her Arbora form, the closest equivalent that queens had to a groundling form. Her whole body softened to look like an Arbora’s, and her wings vanished. She had the same blue and silver-gray coloring but fewer spines, and more long frills in her mane. She stepped close, put her hand on the back of his neck and pressed her forehead to his. She said in a growl, “I understand that you had to help. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

Moon closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. “I realized where it was taking Sand, and there was no time to tell anyone else. I had to go.”

She stepped back. “No one died; I’m satisfied with that.” She eyed him. “I’m going to get a mentor to see to you.”

Moon sat down on the furs, trying not to yelp when his abused muscles contracted. He didn’t need a mentor, but he was too relieved that they weren’t going to talk about clutches or his inability to provide them to argue. “Is Pearl going to give you trouble about this?”

Heading for the passage, Jade made an eloquently derisive noise. “I can handle Pearl.”

Moon lay back on the furs, squinting at the ceiling overhead, considering his favorite carving. It depicted a whole court of Raksura, in different woods and set with polished gemstones. Queens in the center, larger than the others, and consorts next, with a darker wood used to represent their black scales, then clusters of male and female warriors, bodies twined or wings flared in flight. The outer edge was Arbora, wingless, stocky, and muscular where the Aeriat were slender. The artwork everywhere in the mountain-tree never showed Raksura in their soft-skinned groundling forms, something else Moon didn’t understand. Even though he had grown up alone, outside of a Raksuran court, he had known in his blood that both his forms were him, that he didn’t belong in one body or the other but both.

You’re still here, he reminded himself. Considering his past record at trying to fit in to settlements, this was an achievement.

Chapter Two

Two days later, the queens called for a formal augury.

Moon was still getting used to the vagaries of Raksuran behavior, but even before the augury started he had already gotten into trouble with Chime by making a comment implying that it was just a way to shift blame for important decisions onto the mentors.

“No, this kind of augury is very accurate, and very important to the court,” Chime insisted, too loudly.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Moon couldn’t help glancing around to see if anyone else had heard.

They were in an anteroom on the edge of the cavernous greeting hall, which at the moment held almost every member of the court. Arbora and warriors gathered on the main floor and lined the two open stairways that criss-crossed up the far wall, below the balconies and the round doorways opening into the higher levels. Above the staircases, the huge well wound up in a big spiral through the tree.

Almost everyone was in their groundling forms, though several younger warriors kept their wings and clung to the walls or hung from the balconies by their foot-claws or tails. Only the children in the nurseries, and a few teachers who had stayed there to watch them, were missing. There was a low hum of conversation, some jostling among the warriors and younger Arbora, and an air of anticipation and impatience. But even with almost everyone present, there was still plenty of space in the greeting hall: a reminder of how small the Indigo Cloud court was now compared to its former glory.

Unappeased, Chime persisted, “So what’s wrong? Why do you think this is a bad idea?”

Moon hissed, annoyed. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He just didn’t think it was a good way to solve this problem.

And he was worried about what else the augury might reveal.

“But then why—” Chime began, when Balm gave them both a prod from behind and said, “Come on, Jade’s waiting.”

Jade was waiting, sitting at the edge of the clear circle in the center of the hall, radiating impatience. Moon started toward her, and Chime and Balm followed.

The hall had been an impressive enough sight when they first arrived at the tree, but was even better now that the wood and inlay had been cleaned and polished, all the shells spelled to glow with soft light, and the moss scrubbed off the walls. The narrow column of water that streamed out of a high channel and fell to the pool in the floor was now clean and sweet.

Jade looked up at their approach, smiling briefly though the angle of her spines said she was somewhat annoyed. She said, “You look nervous.”

The warriors around her made way, and Moon took a seat on the floor behind her. He was nervous, though he didn’t want to talk about it. As a distraction, he said, “Chime is trying to make everyone think I don’t want the augury.”

Jade leaned back to give Chime a look as he and Balm took seats behind Moon. Chime said, “I am not. I was just asking—”

Balm poked him again. “Ask later.”

Heart waited in the center of the hall with Merit, the next most powerful mentor, both in their groundling forms. Heart was lovely, with the dark amber skin and bronze-colored hair common among the Indigo Cloud Arbora. Though the two were close in age, Merit had always looked and sounded younger, with wide-set eyes, warm brown skin and fluffy light-colored hair. Inexperience and a somewhat frivolous turn of mind had caused him to be passed over for the position of chief mentor. From what Moon could tell, he seemed more relieved by that than anything else. Heart looked nervous now, and kept rubbing her hands on her light-colored skirt, as if her palms were sweaty. There were many different ways to augur, and he wondered if it was the first time she had done one like this. Or at least done it in front of so large an audience.

Waiting at her feet was a large shallow bowl made of marbled green-gray stone. It might have some deep ceremonial significance now, but Moon had first seen it used by the Arbora to grind nuts into meal. It was surrounded by a dozen or so much smaller bowls of dark blue glazed pottery.

“Where’s Pearl?” Moon whispered to Jade.

Jade’s tail twitched in irritation. Her impatience with the whole process was ill-concealed, and Moon wasn’t sure of the reason. “She has to make an entrance. Here she comes now.”

Moon glanced up. Pearl, her wings spread, dropped down the central well.

Pearl wasn’t the oldest or largest queen Moon had ever seen, but she was still impressive. Her scales were brilliant gold, overlaid with a webbed pattern of deepest indigo blue. The frilled mane behind her head was like a golden sunburst, and there were more frills on the tips of her folded wings, on the triangle-shape at the end of her tail. Like Jade, she wore only jewelry.

She landed gracefully on the polished wooden floor and folded her wings. Her favorite warriors landed in a half-circle behind her, River, Drift, Coil, Floret, and Sage. Behind him, Moon heard a faint rude snort from Chime, and a rustle as Balm elbowed him in reproof.

Pearl sat down and nodded at Heart. Heart picked up a small bowl and started to stand.

Jade said, “This could be a waste of time without Stone here.”

Heart stopped, looked uncertainly from one queen to the other.

Pearl tilted her head in subtle threat. “Nevertheless, we’re doing it.”

Jade and Pearl had managed to work out a way to rule the court between them that was uneasy at best and violent at worst, but it worked, and that was the important thing. But one point they had been unable to resolve was whether to let the Arbora clutch this season or wait.

All Raksuran warriors were born infertile; only queens and consorts, and Arbora females and males could make clutches. A queen and consort pair like Jade and Moon were expected to produce a few warriors along with the next generation of royal Aeriat, but most of the burden of populating the court fell on the Arbora. Jade had been in favor of letting them produce clutches as early as their first two months here, and it had been Pearl who had wanted to wait until the colony tree’s garden platforms had been fully reclaimed and planted. But within the past couple of months, both had reversed their positions.

Jade sat back, her mouth a thin line.

At Pearl’s nod, Heart went to her first. She knelt and shifted to her Arbora form. Pearl held out her hand and Heart scratched across the scales of Pearl’s palm with her claw. Heart held the bowl out, but no blood welled. Pearl flicked a spine in amusement, and said, “You have to bear down, child.”

“Sorry,” Heart whispered, embarrassed. There was a rustle and murmur of amusement through the watching crowd, combined with relief that Pearl had decided to be in a good mood. The Fell influence focused on the court had affected Pearl badly, working on a mind already depressed by the loss of her consort and the other setbacks Indigo Cloud had faced over the turns. Pearl was better than she had been before the court had moved here, but she still hated “trouble.” Which she apparently defined as any member of the court doing anything that caused her to notice they existed.

Pearl took Heart’s claw in her free hand and drew it across her palm again. This time the blood came, and Heart carefully caught a few drops in the little bowl.

Jade held out her hand as Heart stood and came to her. Despite her air of annoyance, Jade managed a smile at Heart as her blood was drawn. It was Moon’s turn next, and Heart drew her claw more gently across his groundling skin.

He watched his blood drip into the little bowl, mingling with Pearl’s and Jade’s, and felt his heart beat a little faster.

Heart might have felt his pulse pound through his hand. She gave him a quick, reassuring smile, then stood to carry the bowl back to the stone vessel waiting at the center of the circle. She shifted to her groundling form as she knelt, picked up a copper ewer, and poured a little water into the bowl. She swirled it gently to mix with the blood, then poured it into the larger stone container.

Merit and a couple of the other young mentors shifted from their groundling forms, took more of the small bowls, and began to move among the other Arbora, bypassing the infertile warriors. Moon wasn’t sure how they decided who to pick, but suspected it had something to do with the different bloodlines in the court. Another Raksuran thing he had no idea about.

After a few moments they carried the bowls back to Heart. She took each, mixed the contents with water, then added them to the stone vessel. That was Moon’s blood, mixing with the blood of the rest of the court, and possibly it should have been a significant moment. Moon just felt nervous.

Heart poured the last bowl, then leaned over the vessel to study the result. Merit and the other mentors joined her, their expressions tense with concentration.

The chamber grew profoundly silent as everyone waited. Jade tapped her claws on her thigh. Moon felt someone breathing on the back of his head and twisted around to find that Chime had risen to a crouch, craning his neck to try to see into the vessel. Moon elbowed him and he reluctantly subsided.

Finally, Heart said, “The signs are favorable for new clutches at the end of this season.”

It sounded like good news, and there was a pleased murmur from the watching Arbora. Moon was the only one close enough to hear Jade hiss under her breath. But Heart was frowning, and Merit gave her an uneasy glance. The other young mentors looked confused and uncertain.

Pearl’s voice was tightly controlled. “And what else?”

The chamber fell silent again, this time in anxious anticipation. Heart said, slowly, “Someone watches.”

Everyone froze. Oh no, Moon thought. Jade’s claws stopped tapping. Heart looked up, belatedly realizing the effect those two words had had. “Not the Fell! Not like before. I’m not sure…I don’t think this is even about our court. It might be another court we have contact with.”

“It might be a shadow of what happened before,” Merit said, still concentrating on the bowl. “It’s definitely not about us.”

“Not the Fell, and not us,” Jade repeated, as a wave of relief passed over the court and everyone breathed again. Moon rubbed his forehead and managed not to growl. They hadn’t needed that scare, brief as it had been.

Pearl’s spines shivered in barely controlled irritation. “Anything else?”

Heart looked into the bowl again and said reluctantly, “There are signs for…some upheaval.”

“How much upheaval?” Pearl asked.

Heart shook her head slightly, still studying the swirled pattern of blood and water. “Not…terrible upheaval.” There was a nod of agreement from Merit. “But…the course will not be smooth.”

Pearl frowned, considering that. Jade said, “That’s usual for our court, isn’t it?”

There was another stir, this time of amusement. Pearl made a dismissive gesture. “We’re still learning to live in this place. Doubtless there will be setbacks.”

Bone, the leader of the hunters’ caste, added, “And if these upheavals don’t interfere with the clutching, then they can’t be too difficult to handle.”

Bone was old for an Arbora, and his groundling form showed the signs of age, with white hair and an ashy cast to his dark bronze skin. He was heavily built and had a ring of scar tissue around his neck where something had unwisely tried to bite his head off, testifying to his fighting prowess. He tended to be a calming influence on the court. His opinion carried weight and the fact that neither he nor the queens were worried seemed to reassure everybody.

That signaled the end of the augury, and everyone started to mill around and talk. Jade leaned over to Moon and whispered, “I’m going to talk to Pearl. I still think it would be a bad idea to let them all clutch at once. If we can at least get some of them to hold off for a while—”

“What was that?” Pearl suddenly stood over them. The Arbora and warriors nearby rapidly dispersed, hurried out the passage to the knothole, vanished up or down the stairs, or climbed up to the levels overhead. Chime practically bolted. Balm, after she caught Jade’s eye, followed at a more sedate pace.

Jade stood, settled her wings deliberately, and said, “I don’t think we should let them all clutch at once.”

Pearl cocked her head. “Oh, and you think choosing which ones can clutch now and which will wait isn’t going to cause trouble?”

Jade was unimpressed. “I think they’re quite capable of choosing for themselves.”

Pearl snorted in grim amusement. “Then you’re a fool.”

Moon thought one solution might be to let the Arbora who wanted to clutch draw lots to see who went first, but he knew enough to keep it to himself until he could mention it to Jade in private. Pearl was more than capable of rejecting any idea that came from him.

Moon had never been sure if Pearl despised him because he was a feral solitary dragged in by Stone when she had been expecting a respectable consort with an important bloodline from Star Aster, or if she just didn’t like him. She had at one point suggested that he become her consort instead, though it had been pretty clear to Moon that it had been for the strategic value of having a consort again, not for any personal attraction. At least he hoped so; sometimes, with a Raksuran queen, it was hard to tell.

Jade bared her teeth. “Let’s tell the Arbora that you think they’re incapable of working it out for themselves and see what they say to that.”

Moon felt it likely that the Arbora already knew Pearl’s opinion. It wasn’t like they hadn’t known her all their lives.

Pearl counter-attacked, pointing her claws at Moon. “Your consort hasn’t done his duty by the Arbora yet; is that why you’re not eager for them to clutch? If none of them produce mentors, we’ll know whose fault that is.”

Jade flared her spines. “You don’t know that.”

Moon decided now would be a good time for a strategic retreat, and eased to his feet. Consorts were supposed to sleep with Arbora females in the belief that it helped the Arbora produce warriors and mentors. Moon had female Arbora friends but he didn’t know if they had planned to clutch or if they wanted to risk trying it with his unknown bloodline; asking them seemed like it would be the most awkward thing in the world. And if he couldn’t give Jade a clutch, he doubted he could give one to an Arbora. Trying would just expose his weakness.

Moon crossed the greeting hall, passing the last few Arbora still gathered there, when Heart ducked around a column and said, “Moon, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” She seemed anxious, and Moon tried not to find that ominous. She might want to tell him something to pass on to Jade. They moved off through a short passage into one of the unused smaller chambers off the greeting hall. “What is it?”

Heart looked up at him. She still smelled of fresh Raksuran blood; when she had shifted to groundling the blood staining her claws had transferred to her fingernails. “The augury…There was something about you. Oh, nothing terrible. It was just that your blood was woven all through the part of the design that indicated an upheaval.”

That…doesn’t sound good. Moon extended his senses, making sure no one was in earshot. He could hear movement and voices in the balcony passages above, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. He lowered his voice anyway. “What does that mean?”

Heart hesitated. “I think it means that your interest will part from the interest of the court. For a time, anyway. I’m not certain.” Her gaze was worried. “You weren’t…planning to leave, were you?”

That took Moon by surprise. “No. Why would I?”

“Sorry, it’s just—That’s what it looked like.” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s very hard to interpret individual strands in general auguries; Flower always thought it was a mistake to try. And this was an unusual augury anyway, with that intrusion about the watcher.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it to the others?” Then it occurred to Moon that she might be about to, that she might have wanted to warn him first.

“It was a personal augury, not one for the court. And…I thought it would just make trouble for you. There was nothing in the augury that indicated danger for the court.” Heart smiled a little wryly. “I don’t want to upset anyone over a minor issue, like a disagreement over something the court will do.”

That was a relief. “Thank you for…telling me.” He had almost said warning me.

“As I said, it’s probably nothing,” Heart told him and slipped away. Moon wished she didn’t sound quite so much as though she was trying to convince herself.

Lost in thought, he started across the chamber. Then a warrior came off a balcony somewhere above in an uncontrolled tumble and landed in front of him. Moon stopped abruptly and shifted by instinct. “Sorry,” the warrior gasped in contrition, sprawled on the floor and looking up at Moon. It was Coil, who was one of Pearl’s younger warriors, though Moon didn’t know him well. “They threw me off the—”

Two more warriors landed nearby, and one pounced forward to pin Coil down. From Coil’s expression of mingled embarrassment and fear, this wasn’t play, at least for him. Annoyed, Moon said, “Get off him.”

The warrior looked up, baring his teeth. It was Band, another member of Pearl’s faction. The one who was looking on with a grin was Fair, his clutchmate. Band said, “Why? We’re just having fun.”

A disproportionate amount of the trouble Moon had had in the court came from the younger male warriors. The female warriors and the older males always seemed able to find unobjectionable ways to spend their free time; the younger males couldn’t manage to.

It also didn’t help that Moon had discovered early on that his patience for being argued with by young male warriors was close to nonexistent. Band’s mocking grin was too much to bear. Moon grabbed Band by the throat and threw him.

Band landed about twenty paces away, sliding across the smooth polished wood of the floor. Coil seized his chance, skittering out of reach. But Fair surged forward and stopped a bare pace away. He had been one of those trapped and wounded during the Fell attack on the old colony, so he would have missed the battle to free the court and other events that might have convinced him that Moon was not exactly a safe or easy target. He snarled, “I wonder how tough you are without a queen to defend you, solitary.”

Moon stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He said, deceptively calm, “My queen’s not here. Stop wondering.” He had gotten used to having the solitary accusation thrown in his face during almost every disagreement, but he still felt the prickle along his nerves that told him his spines had hardened and lifted, spreading out across his back and up onto his head, out of his mane of frills.

Fair fell back, his spines flicking uneasily, his attempt at intimidation having failed. He said, “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Moon hissed in amusement, and shifted to groundling just to emphasize his point. He stepped past Fair and headed for the stairs at the far end of the chamber. No one was stupid enough to try to leap on him from behind. Unfortunately. A good fight might clear the air.

Moon took the stairs down to the teachers’ hall and the passage to the nurseries. As he stepped through the round doorway carved with baby Arbora and Aeriat, his appearance was greeted with a chorus of squeaks and trills of delight. That made up for a lot of aggravation.

* * *

Moon went out with the hunters again the next day, with Balm and Chime and some other warriors. Pearl had made the stipulation that the area be searched first to make sure there were no tentacle creatures.

“As if I wasn’t planning to do that already,” Bone confided to Moon before they left. “The damn thing wasn’t even any good to eat.”

They got back to the tree at dusk, and Moon flew on inside while the warriors were still helping ferry the Arbora and their kills to the tree. As soon as Moon reached the greeting hall, the disturbed state of the colony was obvious. All the warriors who hadn’t come on the hunting trip seemed to be in motion, flying around in the upper levels, and a group of Arbora were in a tense conversation by the fountain pool. Bell, the leader of the teachers’ caste, saw Moon arrive and hurried over to him. Moon demanded, “What is it?” He hadn’t seen anything wrong near the knothole.

Bell was one of Chime’s clutchmates, though their groundling forms didn’t much resemble each other. Bell had dark hair and his skin was more brown than bronze. He said, “We had a visit while you were gone, a queen from Emerald Twilight.”

That could be good or bad, Moon thought. They had traded with Emerald Twilight warriors, but hadn’t had a formal visit from an Emerald Twilight queen since what everyone insisted on referring to as “the incident” which had occurred on the way back from the forest coast. The augury, with the vision of upheaval and the odd “someone watches” message came to mind; he wondered if the court being watched was Emerald Twilight. “Which queen?”

“Tempest, with five warriors,” Bell told him. “They didn’t stay long and we didn’t even get to see them. They met with Jade and Pearl and Heart up on the queens’ level.”

“They didn’t want to stay the night?” That definitely wasn’t good, at least from Moon’s limited understanding of relations between Raksuran courts. The visitors should have stayed at least until morning and there should have been a special meal for them, put together by the Arbora. And it was also odd that the only Arbora included in the meeting had been Heart; for the other visits, Bell, Bone, and Knell had been there to represent the Arbora castes. Bone had been away leading the hunt, but Bell and Knell were both here. “Uh…Were they not invited to stay?”

Bell’s expression was deeply worried. “I don’t know.”

“Right.” Moon looked up. The warriors wheeling around up in the central well all kept their distance from the queens’ level gallery, clearly not wanting to antagonize the occupants. “I’d better get up there.”

“Good luck,” Bell called after him, as Moon leapt up the wall.

Moon climbed rapidly. As he swung up onto the gallery of the highest warriors’ level, Vine landed beside him and clung to a claw-scarred pillar. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Moon, do you know what happened with the visit?”

“No, I just got back. Weren’t you there?” Vine had fallen a little out of favor with Pearl, but not with Jade, and Moon was surprised he had been left out.

“Nobody was. No warriors, I mean.” Vine glanced out into the well. “Not even River, and he’s not exactly thrilled about it.”

All right, that was odd. River had been Pearl’s favorite so long he thought he was a consort.

“See if you can get them to tell us what happened,” Vine urged as Moon moved away.

Moon ducked through an empty bower, out to an interior passage, then up the smaller stairwell that led past the queens’ level and to the consorts’ quarters. As he passed through the unused rooms, he couldn’t hear any disturbance from below. That might be a good sign. If Tempest had delivered some sort of insult or threat from Emerald Twilight, he thought Pearl would probably still be ranting about it.

The stairs opened into one of the smaller halls, the walls carved with scenes of Arbora building bridges between platforms in the suspended forest, the mountain-trees towering over them. Stone had told him that this hall was meant to be a private retiring room for consorts, where they could compose themselves before joining any gathering in the larger hall beyond. Moon had thought that sounded pointless, before he had found himself using the room for exactly that purpose when they had entertained visitors from other courts.

The round doorway led to a short turning passage only a few paces long, there to block any direct view from the queens’ main hall into the retiring room. It was also great for eavesdropping, to make sure you wanted to join any meeting in the hall before you committed yourself by walking into it, but Moon didn’t bother with that now.

Pearl, Jade, and Heart were still here, sitting around on cushions near the large metal bowl hearth. The hearth was filled with heating stones, and the best water kettle and the best tea set the court owned were out, along with a scatter of seating cushions for the absent visitors. So it looked like they had actually intended hospitality, whatever had happened.

And something had happened. Jade faced away from Moon so he couldn’t see her expression, but her spines were flared. Heart, in groundling form, seemed dispirited, and Pearl looked grim, her spines twitching in agitation.

As Moon stepped out of the doorway and shifted to his groundling form, Heart was saying, “I just don’t think we should—you should—worry before we know for certain. We don’t even know—”

Pearl spotted Moon and cut Heart off with a hiss. Startled, Heart lifted her head, saw Moon, and immediately looked guilty.

So I’m not supposed to know what happened, either, Moon thought, crossing the hall toward them. That was a little odd, though at least it meant that Emerald Twilight probably hadn’t declared war on them. He took a seat on the cushion next to Jade. She didn’t look up. Pearl stared at the hearth. Heart cleared her throat, and said, “How did the hunt go?”

“It was good.” Moon wondered how long they could keep this up. They had to know the others would have told him that Tempest had been here. “No trouble this time.”

An uneasy silence followed. It was so uneasy, Pearl stirred and asked, “Did you find the hopper herd Bone keeps talking about?”

Moon admitted, “No, but we found some big lopers.”

“Ah.” Pearl flicked her spines again, looked at Jade and looked away. “Just as well.”

Moon glanced at Jade, then took a good look. She was absolutely rigid with fury.

“Was it about Halcyon?” he blurted, before he realized that might not be the best thing to say at the moment. Halcyon was another sister queen of Emerald Twilight, Tempest’s clutchmate. She had attacked them on the way back from the forest coast, as part of a plot to get more power within Emerald Twilight, and Jade had had to fight her. Nothing that had happened afterward had been Indigo Cloud’s fault, but Moon had always wondered if Emerald Twilight really believed that.

Jade twitched at the name, then made an effort to unclench her claws. “No. No, it wasn’t about her.” Her voice was husky, strained. As if she had been snarling at someone, or trying not to.

“What was it about?” Really worried now, Moon put a hand on her wrist. Pearl watched them with a completely opaque expression. Heart hunched her shoulders slightly, as if braced for Jade’s response.

Jade let out her breath and forced her spines to relax. She managed an apologetic smile and reached over to squeeze Moon’s wrist. “It was about territory, they were just trying to push us, make us react. It was stupid; I let Tempest make me angry, we almost…” She added, “It was nothing.”

Moon hesitated. If he had had the slightest inclination to believe this, Pearl’s ironic expression and Heart’s furtive twitch would have squashed it. His first impulse was to think it was something about him, but he knew he was overly suspicious. Actually, overly suspicious was putting it mildly. And he couldn’t think what it would be, unless Tempest had tossed off some casual insult that had caught Jade at the wrong moment. Though that didn’t seem to fit Pearl’s reaction. Whatever it was, he had the feeling it wouldn’t help to press the point, at least not now.

And he could always get Chime to try to ease the truth out of Heart, later.

Moon said, “All right.” He added, “You should get something to eat.”

“I should,” Jade agreed. She tightened her grip on Moon’s wrist and stood, hauling him to his feet. She met Pearl’s gaze with a look of pure steel-eyed hate. “We’ll talk later.”

Pearl rippled her spines in a shrug, resigned and amused. “For all the good it will do.”

* * *

Over the next few days, Jade and Pearl continued to say nothing about what had happened during the meeting with Tempest. Chime reported that Heart refused absolutely to tell him or anyone else what had been said. When Chime had asked her the first few times, she had said only that the queens didn’t want her to discuss it. When he had kept asking she had growled at him that it was none of his damn business and if he asked her again she was going to rip his frills out. “You could ask Balm,” Moon had pointed out.

“You can ask Balm,” Chime had retorted. “She can’t kill you.”

Yes, Moon supposed asking Balm to violate Jade’s confidence wouldn’t go over well. If Jade had even told Balm what had happened. Moon gave up on ever knowing. Maybe it had been nothing, just an exchange of insults that both queens would eventually get over. And it was only a day later that something happened that put the whole incident right out of his mind.

* * *

One of the good things Moon had discovered was that teaching fledglings was acceptable work for consorts, and he thought he was fairly good at it. Though he would feel a lot better about his efforts if he could just get Bitter to fly.

Moon nudged Bitter with an elbow, nodding toward two young warriors as they dove past, their wings slanted back for maximum speed. “That doesn’t look like fun?” By this point, he already knew the answer; he just wanted Bitter to know he hadn’t given up asking.

Chewing on a piece of hard yellow fruit, Bitter just shook his head.

It had turned into another warm day, bright sunlight falling through the heavy canopy of leaves high above. Moon and Bitter sat out on one of the mountain-tree’s smaller branches, an expanse of rough gray wood twenty or so paces across. They had a good if oblique view of the giant knothole, the waterfall, and the multiple levels of garden platforms.

Bitter’s clutchmates, Frost and Thorn, fledgling queen and fledgling consort, flew in the waterfall’s spray, dipping and wheeling in the cool air currents off the rush of falling water. A few warriors were also in the air, most further out over the clearing formed by the tree’s giant canopy, some on watch, others just stretching their wings.

Bitter eyed all the fliers noncommittally. He was small for a fledging his age, his groundling form a thin little boy with dark bronze skin, dark hair, and grave eyes, dressed in a brown shirt and pants a little too big for him. He didn’t talk either, except in whispers to Frost and Thorn, but at least he could talk if he felt like it. He apparently didn’t feel like flying at all.

“You’re going to have to do it some time,” Moon pointed out. He didn’t want to press the issue, but it would have been nice to have a clue as to what the issue was. Bitter liked to fly with Moon, clinging to his chest, so it wasn’t a fear of height or fast motion. It had to have something to do with the destruction of the court of Sky Copper. Bitter, Frost, and Thorn were the only survivors, rescued from their Fell captors and brought to join the court of Indigo Cloud. It had been a traumatic and terrible event for the three fledglings, but Moon wasn’t sure how that had evolved into Bitter’s refusal to learn to fly.

Bitter leaned on Moon’s arm and sighed, apparently weary of Moon’s wrongheaded persistence on this point.

A large number of Arbora were out on the platforms, digging or weeding in the gardens, probably discussing their plans to clutch. Most were teachers or hunters, the ones in their groundling forms dressed for muddy work in cloth smocks or leather kilts. An Arbora had been making his way down the branch toward them for some time, collecting balls of moss fallen off the higher branches that could be dried and used in weaving. His scales were green faded to gray in large patches, and heavily scarred in spots. As he reached them, he said, “Hello, consort. Hello, little one.” It was Dash, a very old Arbora, who wasn’t doing particularly well in his old age. He had been ill in the various sicknesses that had plagued the old colony, and injured in fighting the Fell, and it had all taken a toll. He put his bag aside and sat down beside Moon and Bitter, grunting as his bones creaked. “Now, which one are you?” he asked Moon.

“Moon, Jade’s consort,” Moon reminded him. Dash remembered the distant past better than recent events, and he tended to confuse Moon with the long-gone consorts who had died or been sent away to other courts turns ago.

“Ah, that’s right, you’re new.” Dash stared downward, frowning. “What are they doing down there? In that pool.”

Moon leaned forward to look. A few hundred paces below, some Arbora were working on a small platform, close enough to the waterfall to be drenched by its spray. They were digging out an old drainage pool and channel that had been choked with dirt and weeds. Moon said, “Trying to get it working again. It’s probably got something to do with the blocked drains.”

The drains and water channels inside the tree had been one of the biggest problems in getting the colony livable again. The mountain-tree drew so much water up through its roots that it expelled it in springs. Some of it was discharged through the waterfall, but the channels carved through the tree also used it to fill the bathing pools and to flush out the latrines into the roots. But generations of disuse had left many of the channels clogged; there was a whole group of Arbora who had done nothing for all the past months except trace the channels throughout the enormous space and hunt down the obstructions. It was all they talked about, and everyone had learned to be careful which levels of the bowers to avoid if you didn’t want to hear about drains. And no one wanted to hear about drains.

Moon whistled sharply for Frost and Thorn to call them to the branch. They probably needed a nap by now, and he wanted to be able to make a quick escape if Dash wanted to talk about drains.

Frost and Thorn wheeled toward the branch and landed next to Dash. “We’re hungry,” Frost announced.

“Say hello to Dash,” Moon reminded her. The teachers had told him that fledgling queens could be difficult to raise, but Frost seemed to be taking that to an extreme. She had good days and bad days, and on the bad days she threw fits, she panicked the other young Arbora and Aeriat with wild claims, and was rude to an extent that had even managed to mildly shock Stone.

Much of Frost’s misbehavior had to come from the terrible experience of seeing her court destroyed. And if anyone should be able to understand that and handle her, it was Moon. At least, that was the theory, and she had been better since things had settled down in the court and he was able to spend more time with her. The trick seemed to be to get her to behave without squashing the natural aggression she would need to be a good queen.

Jade had also been visiting the fledglings frequently, though at first, Frost had regarded her with suspicion. Just what she was suspicious of, Moon didn’t have a clue. But recently, Frost had started to seem more curious than wary, watching Jade play with the young Arbora and other fledglings and occasionally joining in.

But this was apparently going to be a good day, because Frost said, “Hello, Dash,” obediently enough, and climbed into Dash’s lap by way of apology.

“Hello, Dash,” Thorn echoed, and added, “Frost is hungry; I’m not. I don’t want to go in yet.”

Thorn had been doing better than the other two, but he was also better at concealing his feelings. Being pretty good at concealing his feelings himself, Moon found it easy to tell, but he wasn’t certain anyone else had noticed.

“But did they check the underroots?” Dash asked, absently looping an arm around Frost and letting her settle in his lap, though his attention was still on the platform. His scaly brow knit in worry. “It doesn’t look stable to me.”

“It doesn’t?” Moon craned his neck to look down again. Maybe the near end of the platform was slumping a little. But several Arbora were occupied with digging out the channel, and another was at the opposite end of the dry pool, pulling dead vines out of the broken clay, and none seemed worried by it. Moon wondered if they could tell; the slump might not be noticeable unless you were viewing the platform from this angle. He decided to take the kids inside and then fly back over and let the Arbora know—

The Arbora who was digging out the vines yanked at a recalcitrant clump, throwing her entire body into it. The vines came loose in a spray of dirt and she sat down hard. A crack sounded from below, loud enough to startle the Arbora working on the nearby platforms. The nearest patrolling warriors abruptly veered toward the mountain-tree’s trunk.

The Arbora on the slumping platform froze in place, looking down. Then half the platform split off and crumbled away beneath their feet.

Dash made a strangled noise of horror and the fledglings squeaked in alarm. Several Arbora next to the wooden shaft of the drain outlet clung to the torn roots still attached to the branch, as chunks of the clay pool came apart under them. The nearest warriors dove for them, but the female on the far end of the platform flailed as the dirt dissolved around her. She made a wild grab for a big root, and for an instant it supported her, then it jerked loose and sent her tumbling down with the rest of the debris.

The warriors were close enough to get the others, but not her. Moon pushed Bitter and Thorn toward Dash. “Stay with him!” Then he shoved to his feet and dove headfirst off the branch.

Plummeting through the air, Moon had to fight the urge to shift. But as he fell past the crumbling platform, it rained chunks of dirt, clay, and broken roots down on him; he couldn’t extend his wings in this debris. Without them, he might as well take advantage of his heavier groundling body to fall faster.

Far below the Arbora tried frantically not to fall faster, clawing at the mass of roots unraveling around her.

The last of the debris from above dropped away and Moon shifted. He snapped his wings out for two hard beats, stooping on the Arbora like prey on the wing, and snatched her out of the air. She keened in his ear as she grabbed him, but managed not to sink her claws through his scales. He caught movement above him and twisted instinctively, pulling his wings in. A hillock-sized clump of wood and dirt fell past, barely missing them.

Up by the fallen platform, Moon saw the warriors had retrieved the other Arbora from the platform. Good, they got them all. Watching helplessly while an Arbora fell to his or her death was not something Moon wanted to do, ever.

He twisted around and spread his wings again, angled them back to catch air and slow his fall. Turning the headlong plunge into a glide, he came around toward the waterfall, away from any more falling debris. “You all right?” he asked the Arbora. From her build and dark green scales, he thought she might be Plum, one of the younger hunters. But her face was buried against his chest and he couldn’t be sure.

She made a choking noise and nodded. Moon took another swing around, to check where the rest of the debris would fall. The Kek, groundlings who lived among mountain-tree roots, had a village beneath the tree, but it was on the far side of the trunk from here and further out. And the biggest chunks of wood and dirt were hitting the slope of the trunk and disintegrating; none of the debris would make it to the ground in big enough pieces to cause damage to any Kek who happened to be foraging below.

Moon found a draft and rode it up, hoping he hadn’t broken any of Plum’s ribs. He had tried not to hit her too hard, but he hadn’t wanted to risk overshooting her either.

He came up over one of the big garden platforms, where warriors circled overhead and a group had gathered around the other rescued Arbora. Moon swept in to land lightly on the grass, and tried to set his Arbora on her feet. She shifted to groundling, but didn’t let go of him.

Chime reached them first, partially extending his wings for a long leap across the platform, over the heads of the Arbora who bounded toward them. “Is she all right?” he demanded, patting Plum’s hair anxiously. “Are you all right?”

Plum took a deep breath and managed to unclamp her hands. “Yes, I am.” She looked up at Moon. Her eyes were wide and her skin had flushed a dark copper; she looked as if she was about to be sick. “Thank you, Moon. I’ve never—I’ve never fallen before—I mean, Sage dropped me once accidentally when we were little, but it was only a few paces—”

The other Arbora reached them, Merit, Bark, and Rill first. With exclamations of relief and sympathy, they coaxed Plum away from Moon and guided her over to sit down.

“It’s lucky you were there,” Chime muttered, watching them. “I don’t think any of the warriors were close enough or fast enough to catch her.”

“You’re a warrior,” Moon pointed out. It still occasionally slipped Chime’s mind.

Chime gave him an exasperated look. He hated being reminded. “I know, but I couldn’t have caught her.”

He might be right; consorts could fly almost twice as fast as warriors, and Plum had been trapped in the falling debris for a good while. But Moon had been close enough to help and there was no point in wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t been here. “You didn’t ‘hear’ anything before the platform cracked?”

“No.” Chime grimaced. “Still useless.”

Since they had returned from the leviathan city months ago, Chime had been having erratic flashes of insight, but it was always about things that they didn’t really need to know. He could sometimes tell when a cloud-walker went by overhead, so far above the forest it was invisible even to Raksuran eyes. If Heart put him in a light trance, he could hear deep rumbling voices, which the mentors thought might come from the mountain-trees. But he hadn’t been able to augur or predict anything, or tell where dangerous predators were. It was disappointing, but then Chime’s strange new senses had been so much help on the leviathan, it seemed like ingratitude to expect more.

Toward the trunk, Moon caught a glimpse of Jade, spiraling down with Balm to examine the place where the platform had given way. Knell, the leader of the Arbora soldiers’ caste, was standing on the edge of this platform, waiting for them. Hands planted on his hips, his whole body was expressive of disgruntled disgust. He’s right, we didn’t need this, Moon thought.

Then Pearl landed nearby, scattering Arbora. She looked around at them and said, “No one’s hurt?”

“Everyone’s all right,” Rill told her. “The warriors got them in time. Moon saved Plum.”

Then Pearl focused on Moon. “Where are the fledglings?”

Alarmed, Moon looked up at the branch. But Dash had them, bringing them down the wide path atop the branch toward the climbing ridge along the trunk. Bitter, in his winged form, clung securely to Dash’s neck, and Dash was leading Frost with a firm grip on her wrist. She was craning her neck to watch the activity on the platform, and hanging on to Thorn, who trailed docilely along behind. There was nothing wrong with Dash’s instincts as a teacher, either; Frost was definitely the one most likely to make trouble.

Pearl followed his gaze and her spines twitched, in relief or possibly thwarted irritation. She couldn’t blame Moon for leaving the fledglings with an elderly and respected teacher. Pearl hissed, and looked for the next target. “Knell!”

Knell bounded over to land nearby. His spines carefully flat, he said, “They think it was the water. The channel for the fountain was plugged, but the water inside it was seeping out and wearing away at the platform’s roots.”

“Of course it was.” Pearl turned to look across this platform, then up at the ones nested in the higher branches and dripping roots and vines. “We’ll need to check every platform with a channel, plugged or not.”

Knell was tough, but Moon saw him brace himself as he told her, “Jade and Balm are starting that now.”

But one of the things Moon had learned about Pearl was that she never reacted the way anyone thought she would. Instead of an angry outburst at Jade’s presumption, she confined herself to an ironic snort. She said, “I’ll send warriors to help them.” She glanced around at the Arbora who had gathered to listen. “I want you to keep off the platforms with blocked pools, but are you willing to stay out here and finish the planting?”

Knell looked at the others, taking in their mood. Some looked uneasy or reluctant, but most nodded. Someone in the back said, “I guess now we know what the upheaval in the augury is.”

There were a few murmurs of rueful agreement. Another Arbora said, “We need to get the ripe berries picked on the lower platforms. I don’t think we can afford to waste the day.”

Pearl nodded in acknowledgement. “Work as quickly as you can.” She crouched and sprang into the air, snapped her wings out, powerful beats taking her up toward the knothole.

Chime let his breath out in relief. “That went better than I expected.”

Moon had to agree. “Are you going to help Jade and Balm?” Chime had a better eye for detail than the average warrior.

Chime nodded absently. “I’d better. I think I’ll start with this platform.”

Knell gave Chime an annoyed glare. “This one doesn’t have a blocked drain.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Chime leapt into the air.

Knell turned to Moon, and said, a little stiffly, “Will you stay out here?” Knell was another of Chime’s clutchmates, but when Moon had first arrived, he had been one of the Arbora who had objected to him joining the court. Even after everything that had happened since, it still seemed to color all their dealings. “It would make the others less uneasy.”

Some of the other Arbora still within earshot were watching Moon anxiously. “It’d sure make me less uneasy,” Spice seconded fervently.

Moon thought they were overestimating his abilities, especially if one of the large platforms collapsed. But it was good to be asked. “I’ll stay,” he said.

Chapter Three

The Arbora worked for the rest of the afternoon, mostly to get the berries picked and the essential planting done. But they also checked over the blocked drainage and irrigation channels for signs of leaks or weakening supports. Working from below, Jade and Balm and the other warriors found several spots that needed attention, enough to know they would have to carefully check every platform on the tree.

Everyone came in at dusk, and after the berry harvest had been stored away, Moon and most of the court ended up sitting in the greeting hall talking over the situation, worrying, and forming and discarding various plans of action. Everyone knew the platform gardens were too important to their survival to lose. The hunting here was good but they still needed the root crops and ground fruit to augment their food supply. They had traded some of the cloth and raw materials brought from the former colony to Emerald Twilight for dried tea and native root seedlings, but they couldn’t trade for all the food they needed. Especially after Tempest’s aborted visit, when their relations with Emerald Twilight might be even more uncertain than they had been before.

“It might be the fact that the seed was missing for a while,” Merit said, when appealed to for his opinion as a mentor. “The damage inside the tree healed, but if it killed some roots and branches in the platforms...”

Chime snorted in disagreement. “We would have noticed before now.” He tended to give the younger male mentors a lot of attitude, and the others speculated that it might be pure jealousy of their powers. Moon was fairly certain it was pure jealousy of their powers.

Bone shook his head. He looked weary and worried, as if his age was wearing on him. “It’s possible, but it might just be the rot from the blocked channels. The water’s had to go somewhere, and it’s been draining right through some of those platforms.”

Jade said, “We can figure out how it happened later. What we need to do is decide how to repair the damaged branches and roots.” Pearl had already left with most of her coterie, but Jade had been listening thoughtfully, chin propped on her hand, letting the others give voice to their fears and worries. Though Moon could tell she was tired and ready to get away from them all for a while.

As the others all started to offer different ideas for the repair, Moon got up, threaded his way through them, and sat on his heels next to Jade. He leaned against her side, his groundling body against the warmth of her scales, and nuzzled her shoulder. Jade took his wrist and immediately pushed to her feet, tugging him along with her. Chime and Balm glanced up, both with inquiring looks. Moon shook his head slightly, telling them to stay behind. If Jade had wanted more company, she would have signaled for them to follow.

Once they had climbed up the inner well and were safely inside Jade’s bower, she groaned, a comment on the whole long day. “We should have checked the platforms as soon as we got here. I should have thought of that.”

“The tree looked solid,” Moon pointed out. He shifted to his groundling form, going to the bowl hearth to put the kettle on the warming stones. “And it had been like this for turns with no problems.” Which did lend weight to Merit’s theory that the rot had been caused by the seed’s removal.

“Yes, but…” Jade rubbed her forehead, then shook her spines out, as if shaking off pointless recriminations. She started to take off her jewelry, armbands, pectorals, and belt, dropping it into a glittering pile on the fur mat. “Pearl said the royal clutch saw Plum and the others fall. Were they upset?”

“Not really.” Moon had taken a few moments during the afternoon to check on them. “I think they liked seeing me and the warriors catch them.”

Jade snorted. “They would.” The bathing pool was full and the warming stones in it had kept the water hot and steaming. She stepped in and sank down completely under the surface. Moon stripped off his shirt and pants and stepped in after her.

The water had been heating all day and would have been painfully hot for most soft-skinned groundlings, but Raksura loved heat, even in their most vulnerable form. Moon settled into it, leaning back against the smooth stone side of the basin, feeling the knots in his back relax.

Jade surfaced and shifted to her other form, the disturbance from the change making the water bubble up away from her. She leaned back, her frills floating around her.

Moon rested his head against the rim and breathed in the steam. “What did you and Pearl decide about letting the Arbora start clutching again?”

“We were going to let them start after the first root harvest came in, the red tubers, and talk to them to make sure they all didn’t clutch at once. But now, I don’t know if we should go ahead with it.” She added wearily, “But we still need warriors. I just hope they produce some this time.”

“Maybe we’ll have a clutch of warriors,” Moon said, to see how she would respond.

“Maybe.” She sounded matter-of-fact, which didn’t exactly help. She pushed through the water, steam swirling around her, and leaned on the rim next to him. “Any luck with Bitter?”

Moon ran his fingers through her frills as they floated on the surface, and tried not to notice how quickly she had changed the subject. “Not yet.”

“You should talk to Stone about it when he gets back.”

Moon had been trying to avoid that, mostly because he wanted to solve this problem himself. And he was afraid Stone’s methods might be more direct. “He’ll want to throw Bitter off a branch and force him to fly.”

Jade laughed. “No, he won’t.”

“If I wouldn’t fly, he’d throw me off a branch.”

“Yes, but that’s you.” Jade sunk down in the water, eyes closed, her nose just above the steaming surface.

Moon asked, “Do you want to sleep?”

She sat up with a splash, water streaming down her scales. “Not yet.”

Moon smiled up at her, and suddenly found that all the worries were easy to put aside, at least for now. “What do you want to do?”

Jade took his wrist and pulled him up out of the water with her. “Guess.”

* * *

When Moon woke the next morning in the hanging bed in Jade’s bower, she was already awake, sitting up, and staring down at him.

He stretched, yawning. The air tasted of a fresh cool dawn, the sweet green scent of the tree, and Jade. Looking up at her, still bleary with sleep, he realized her expression was pensive and not a little worried. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked, as if she had been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed he was awake. “Nothing.” She leaned against the curving side of the bed, shaking her frills back. She was in Arbora form, softened by sleep, not wearing her jewelry and seeming vulnerable without that armor. “I couldn’t sleep.”

The bowers were quiet, except for the water trickling down from the channel above the pool. Before he could change his mind, he asked, “Do you still want a clutch?”

“Yes.” The answer came with gratifying emphasis, though Jade still looked as if she was thinking of something else. Then she focused on him, her gaze suddenly sharp. “Why do you ask? Because we might have to put off letting the Arbora clutch again?”

“Right, that.” Moon rolled over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hiding his face against the warm scales of her stomach. Jade hadn’t changed her mind, so the problem was in him somewhere. He needed to talk to someone, find out what the chances were, if it might be something temporary. But whoever he spoke to might tell Jade, or worse, Pearl. “I thought you might want us to wait, too.”

Her hand moved through his hair, then kneaded his shoulder, her claws grazing his skin possessively. “No. No, I don’t want to wait.”

* * *

The Arbora spent the next several days diverting the drainage channels from the more vulnerable outer platforms, and weaving more living branches into the root mats to support them. Moon stayed out with them, being a reassuring presence in case anyone fell, and occasionally helping with the work in the more difficult spots where wings and longer arms were needed. He took breaks only to visit the nurseries and to occasionally bring the royal clutch out to watch. Frost expressed disappointment that none of the Arbora fell, since she liked watching Moon fly so fast to catch them.

Plenty of the warriors helped with the task as well, and Jade and Pearl came out for the most difficult sections, but for some reason the Arbora still wanted Moon there. And they made their appreciation clear. The varieties of spiced roots he liked best appeared every night for the last meal. Rill made him a new sash, of a blue silky cloth brought from the old colony, worked over with vine patterns in black thread. Other gifts—flowers, polished stones, and braided leather and copper bead bracelets—showed up in his bower. Maybe consorts were considered lucky. Whatever the cause, after months of being alert for signs that the court’s opinion was turning against him, it was a relief, at least for a while.

A few days into the work, Moon was hanging by his foot-claws from the supports of a platform, guiding the Arbora above to a dead branch woven through the living roots. It was partially rotted and might damage the platform’s stability in the future, though it seemed sturdy enough now. The Arbora’s footsteps crunched across the grass of the platform toward the broken spot Moon had marked, when River swooped up beside him.

River caught a root with one clawed hand, making the platform shiver. “What was that?” someone called from above, muffled by the layers of dirt and branches.

“Nothing,” Moon assured them. It was more a comment on River’s personality than his physical presence. “Absolutely nothing. Keep coming this way.” Rustling and thumps sounded overhead as the Arbora resumed probing for the broken support.

River slung himself closer and folded his wings in. As a warrior his scales were blue with a green undersheen, and in his groundling form he was a dark-haired man with copper skin. He said, “You’re letting them take advantage of you. Working you like a common warrior.”

Moon had to laugh. “Thanks. You’ve always been so concerned on my behalf.”

River flared his spines, contemptuous and amused. “You have no idea how other courts would look at this.”

Moon was fairly certain he knew exactly how other courts would look at this, but he had no intention of stopping. Knowing River, he was probably repeating things that Pearl had said in private. Whether Pearl intended this or not was hard to tell; River only appointed himself to speak for Pearl when Pearl was nowhere around. “If you don’t want other courts to know, then don’t tell them.”

“You think no one will talk about this on the next trading visit?” River’s amusement was turning into real irritation. “The courts in the Reaches have to see us as something besides struggling refugees coming back to our old mountain-tree to die off in peace. It’s bad enough that they know we have a feral consort with no bloodline; when you act like one you’re shaming all of us, making us look weak.”

The biting suspicion that River might be right made Moon snap, “If the gardens keep collapsing, nobody’s going to care what kind of consort you’ve been stuck with.” Above them, on top of the platform, the Arbora were digging down through the loam, getting closer, and he didn’t want them to hear this.

“Exactly.” River bared his teeth in real frustration. “If the queens could convince another court to give us a consort, don’t you think they would?”

A crunch overhead told Moon that the Arbora had broken through the crust above the supports. Bramble’s voice said, “Oh, it’s River. That’s why there’s an argument.”

Spice’s voice seconded her. “Well, he couldn’t be here to help!”

River hissed at them and dropped from the branch, snapped his wings out, and angled to catch the updraft.

Moon stayed where he was, flexing his claws into the wood, while Bramble and Spice and the others dug and chatted and sawed at the rotted support. He didn’t think the Arbora were taking advantage of him, not intentionally. But it had been turns since they had had a real first consort, since Pearl’s consort Rain had died. After that there had just been a few young consorts sent away to queens in other courts, and Stone. Maybe they hadn’t thought about Indigo Cloud’s place with the other courts. Most of them had only seen foreign queens and warriors when they came to visit, and that had been rare for Indigo Cloud even before the court moved here.

It doesn’t matter, he reminded himself, if the Arbora or the warriors or even Jade led him astray, let him get away with more than he should. No one was going to ask for or accept excuses for his behavior. You’re on your own, as usual.

* * *

Later that day, a storm came up, the high wind and heavy rain making only indoor work possible. Jade was busy with Balm somewhere in the colony, so Moon ended up sleeping with Chime in his bower.

Queens and consorts usually had warrior lovers, and no one seemed to mind that Moon slept with Chime occasionally. Which was good, because Chime had really wanted to.

Stubbornly, Chime had never moved out of the teachers’ level up to the warriors’, though he did have a bower with a balcony looking out into the lower central well below the greeting hall. Moon hated storms but the tree’s heavy trunk made the thunder a distant grumble, and the air from the balcony held the fresh scent of rain that had drifted in through the knothole. Chime’s bower-bed was warm and comfortable, but Moon couldn’t relax into sleep.

He finally said, “I need to ask you something.”

“Um.” Still half-asleep, Chime nuzzled his shoulder. Chime claimed to have gotten used to every aspect of being an Aeriat rather than an Arbora, except for the need for more rest. Once he was asleep he was hard to wake.

“Can consorts and male Arbora turn their fertility off like queens and female Arbora?” Moon was hoping the reason Jade hadn’t clutched yet was something that he needed to do, or needed to stop doing. One of those things that everyone assumed he knew all about that he had no idea existed.

In the past months, Moon had found out everything he could about clutches, and why stillbirths seemed so common. The mentors said that the babies in a clutch might be conceived at different times, so that when the first was ready for birth, some of the others might not be as developed. It also didn’t help that queens developed in the womb faster than consorts, and consorts faster than warriors. This wasn’t as big a factor for the Arbora clutches, because Arbora and warrior babies developed at about the same rate. Moon thought he had asked about everything he needed to know, but it hadn’t occurred to him that the conception process might entail more than the obvious.

Chime pushed up on one elbow and stared blearily at him. “No. Why would we need to suppress our fertility—I mean, why would they? They don’t need to. It’s the females who decide when to clutch.” He shook his head, baffled. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Moon let his breath out in disappointment. There went that, unless it was a secret consort thing that not even a former mentor would know about, which he doubted. That left the other, far more disturbing possibility: that Moon wasn’t as fertile as a consort was supposed to be.

Chime settled back down, grumbling, “You do ask the oddest questions.”

* * *

A few days went past, mostly uneventful. There were no more platform collapses, and no serious sickness and only a few hunting injuries. The work on the gardens was going so well, the hunters decided to go ahead with the plan to take the warrior fledglings and the younger Arbora on a teaching hunt. Moon took advantage of the opportunity to ask to bring Frost, Thorn, and Bitter along, too.

There was a Raksuran prejudice that queens and consorts didn’t hunt; they were taught to, but only later, when they were past fledglinghood. But Moon would have died as a boy if his foster mother hadn’t taught him to hunt when he was barely able to leap from branch to branch. He thought he would have trouble convincing Pearl that the royal fledglings needed to learn along with the others, but she gave in with only minor grumbling.

That actually made Moon more worried than anything else. The concession had been granted with suspicious ease, almost as if Pearl felt sorry for him for some reason. He made the mistake of mentioning it to Chime, who said, “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”

“No.” Moon hissed in annoyance. “It’s just strange. I know she’s humoring me, but why would she bother?”

Chime sighed. “She probably thinks she owes you a favor after you saved Plum and have been helping so much with the work on the gardens.”

Moon grudgingly admitted that might be it.

Despite Moon’s suspicions, it was a very good day. Moon didn’t let Frost and Thorn try to take any game, but had them watch the others and then get their claws dirty helping the Arbora bleed and gut the carcasses of their prey. Bitter didn’t make any attempt to fly, but he did obviously enjoy the outing. He was carted around by Moon, Balm, Chime, and the female warrior Floret, as well as Bone and some other Arbora hunters, mostly Bramble and Salt. He helped with the gutting and got as covered with mud, loam, and blood as Frost and Thorn.

After they returned to the tree, Moon took the royal clutch down to the nurseries for baths and sleep. On his way back, he passed one of the small workrooms and saw two Arbora sitting on the floor, bent over a glittering pile on a stone slab, deep in a discussion about whether to use amethysts or polished onyx. It was Merry and Gold, the two best artisans in the court. Curious, Moon stepped into the room to look at what they were making.

It was a fingerwidth-wide band, in pieces now so it was hard to tell if it was meant for a bracelet, necklace, or ankle or arm band. It was figured with the coiled shapes of Aeriat, all with wings half-spread and outstretched arms, intended to hold polished stones that hadn’t been set into place yet. Moon was startled again by how intricate the Arbora’s creations were, how much hard work they were willing to do just for the sake of art. “That’s beautiful.”

Merry and Gold both flinched, staring up at him. “Moon!” Gold, an older female with masses of curly auburn hair, managed to say, “Uh, we didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry.” Moon sat on his heels for a closer look at the piece. “Is it for Jade or Pearl?” Now that they were getting visits from other courts, the Arbora might be feeling a need to make sure their queens had more impressive finery.

Moon looked up in time to catch a fleeting expression of relief on Gold’s face, but it was gone too fast to be sure he hadn’t imagined it. “It’s for Pearl,” Merry said. Lifting his brows, he added, “You think she’ll like it?”

Gold nudged Merry’s shoulder, giving him a quick glare, as if she hadn’t liked the question. That Moon definitely hadn’t imagined. “Of course she will,” he said, and stood, leaving before it got more awkward. They must have thought he would be annoyed that it was meant for Pearl and not Jade.

It was two days later when Moon figured out who the piece was actually for.

* * *

It had rained all night and much of the morning, very bad conditions for work on the outer platforms, so most of the court was staying inside today. Moon sat with the others in the teachers’ hall, which had become a common gathering place for Arbora and Aeriat alike.

It was a large central chamber below the greeting hall, its walls and domed ceiling covered with a detailed carving of a forest, with plume trees, spirals, fern trees, and many others, their branches reaching up to entwine overhead, their roots framing the round doorways that led off to different passages. With the shells set into the walls glowing with soft white light and the hearth basins filled with warming stones, it was a comfortable welcoming space. There was always someone there, and it was a good place to go if you wanted to talk, or just listen to others talk. Someone was always making tea, baked spiced roots, or flatbread, and the older Arbora gathered there to tell stories, or read aloud from one of the books in the mentors’ library.

Moon liked the readings best, since that was his only chance to hear what was in the books. He had taught himself to read the other languages he could speak, but Altanic and Kedaic had much simpler writing systems. The written Raksuran language was proving just as twisty and complicated as the Raksura themselves.

He had been trying to remedy this, timing many of his visits to the nurseries to coincide with reading lessons. He sat with Frost, Bitter, and Thorn while Rill or Bark or one of the other teachers drew the letters and words on clay tablets and the fledglings copied her. When they read from the simpler books, Moon looked over their shoulders. It wasn’t a particularly effective way to learn, since he couldn’t be there for every lesson and he couldn’t ask questions without giving himself away. But he had made some progress, memorizing all the characters for the various sounds, and he was starting to recognize a number of words. He didn’t think anyone had caught on, except, oddly enough, for Thorn.

At the third lesson Moon had attended, Thorn had eyed Moon thoughtfully, and moved his tablet so Moon had a better view of it. Moon had eyed him back, but they had never spoken of it, and Moon was fairly sure Thorn hadn’t shared his suspicion with anyone else, even Frost or Bitter. He thought Thorn might like having a secret to share with Moon, something that was his alone. That suited Moon.

But that rainy afternoon in the teachers’ hall, no one brought out a book. Instead, Rill said, “Moon, tell us a story about groundlings.”

The Arbora and older warriors settled in to listen, and even the young warriors lounging on the fringes of the group were hard put to conceal their interest. The entire court knew Moon’s life had been substantially different from theirs, but most of them had little idea of what that really meant. They knew he had traveled widely and seen strange places, but so had Stone. Moon had never seen much point in trying to convey what it had really been like, so he avoided stories like the time he had had to flee a Morain cliff-town in the middle of the night, got trapped in a tunnel and had to hide in a crack in the rock barely wider than his body while his former comrades hunted him.

So he told them about the Deshar in the hanging city of Zenna, and their elaborate social customs that made passing through the place so difficult for visitors. Predictably, everyone wanted to hear more about the Deshar’s attitudes about sex, which were as baffling to the other Raksura as they had been to Moon at the time.

“So if they have sex without this ceremony first, they can’t have it again?” Bone said, scratching the scar around his neck thoughtfully. He was clearly having trouble following this strange brand of logic.

Moon tried to explain. “Sort of. You can only have sex with your permanent mate, and you can’t have a permanent mate without the ceremony, and if you have sex before the ceremony, nobody wants to be your permanent mate.”

Bark frowned. “But do they have to have a permanent mate?” Except for queens and consorts, Raksura usually didn’t.

“If they want babies. If you have a baby with anybody but a permanent mate, it’s bad. For you and the baby.” The idea that offspring might be unwanted was hard for Raksura to understand as well. Queens and Arbora only clutched when they wanted to, and there were always teachers to take care of the babies or fledglings.

“But how do the others know if someone’s had sex?” Chime protested. “How can they tell? If they have sex without the ceremony, shouldn’t they just keep quiet about it?”

“Do they change color when they have sex?” Balm asked thoughtfully.

“No. They just seemed to know.” Moon admitted, “I never figured that part out.”

Bone snorted, stretching to pick up the kettle. “Strange creatures. Though I’m sure they’d say the same of us.”

If confronted by a Raksura, the Deshar would probably have been too busy having hysterics to say anything. In the east where Raksuran courts were rare, groundlings confused them with Fell. Before Moon could point this out, one of the soldiers, Grain, dropped down the stairwell from the greeting hall, calling out, “Where’s— Moon, visitors just arrived from another court! Two queens, and some warriors, and they’ve got a consort with them!”

Everyone gasped and exclaimed. Moon exchanged an alarmed look with Chime and Balm. That meant this was the most formal form of visit. It would have to be today, Moon thought. Everyone would have been tracking mud and water through the greeting hall all morning. Knowing Raksura, the visitors had probably planned it this way to put them at a disadvantage. He said, “Is someone telling the queens?”

“Yes, Sage went up there,” Grain told him, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Rill stood hastily, shaking crumbs out of her skirt. To Balm, she said, “We should give them tea in the greeting hall first, give them a chance to dry off before we send them up to the queens’ hall.”

Balm got to her feet, looking down at herself helplessly. “I have to get up there.” The senior female warriors were the ones who were supposed to initially greet visitors, and as Jade’s clutchmate, Balm was the most senior one available. She was wearing an old pair of brown pants and a shirt stained with the juice from the berries they had all been eating, and her only jewelry was a copper armband. She was still beautiful, but it was definitely not the way to be dressed while formally greeting two foreign queens and a consort. Moon looked worse, but he wouldn’t have to appear until the first round of formal greetings were done, and that might take quite a while, depending on how difficult the queens all decided to be.

“Wait, wait,” Rill said, and whipped off her dress, holding it out toward Balm. “Put this on!”

“Oh, good idea.” Balm took her shirt off and pulled on the sleeveless dress. She was much taller than Rill, so on her it was more of a tunic, but the dye on the soft fabric was a blue that faded to violet toward the hem, and it looked good against Balm’s dark groundling skin. Someone else contributed a necklace of flat polished amethyst and everyone judged Balm ready to go.

Balm took a deep breath and started up the stairs with Grain, as everyone else scattered to get cushions and one of the better tea sets. Moon headed off to take the back passages up to the consorts’ level.

As Moon traveled upward through the colony, he warned everyone he met about the visitors. When he reached the Aeriat levels, he skipped the queens’ level and went right to the consorts’, tracing a path through the maze of empty rooms and antechambers and bathing rooms to his bower, just above Jade’s.

He hadn’t spent a lot of time here. During the evenings, he was either down in Jade’s bower, or Chime’s, or sitting with the others in the teachers’ hall. But this was the first time he had had a room in a permanent structure that was just for him.

The curving ceiling was carved with Aeriat in flight, on a background of waves that Chime had said symbolized the west wind. The half-shell of the bed hung near the far wall, lined with comfortable blankets and cushions. The hearth basin was in the center, and filled with fresh warming stones. There were a couple of furs and some cushions to sit on, and a woven-reed basket stood against the opposite wall, holding a few extra blankets and his clothes. A normal consort Moon’s age would have far more possessions than this, baskets stuffed with belongings and gifts. What Moon had was a narrow shelf in the wall, holding the things that the fledglings and the Arbora children had given him on his visits to the nurseries. These were usually shiny rocks or pieces of wood, or intricate little sculptures made out of twigs or twisted scraps of cloth.

He opened the top basket, and pulled out his best set of clothes. The shirt and pants were made of the same silky fabric, the color a blue so dark it was almost black. He also had a belt-sash woven through with gold threads. That, with his consort’s gift, a heavy red-gold bracelet with the serpentine shapes of two entwined Raksura etched into the band, should be enough to make him look respectable. And respectable was about as good as it was going to get.

Chime ducked in through the doorway, having hastily changed clothes as well. “Is that what you’re wearing?” he said, as Moon was pulling the shirt over his head. He caught Moon’s narrow-eyed look and waved his hands. “Sorry, I’ll be quiet!”

Moon had arrived at Indigo Cloud with nothing except the clothes on his back, which by that point had been about to fall off. He now had clothes for both everyday use and to save for special occasions, which was more than he had ever owned in his entire life. “Did you hear where they were from?”

“Yes, and it’s a little odd.” Chime paced anxiously, tightening the sash around his waist. “One of the queens is Tempest, from Emerald Twilight.”

“Again?” That was odd. Unless this visit was meant as amends for the last abbreviated one. Or revenge for the last abbreviated one. But they brought a consort.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense.” Chime waved his hands, baffled. “The other queen is Zephyr, a sister queen from Sunset Water. They’re related somehow. I think she’s the daughter of an Emerald Twilight consort, maybe Shadow’s clutchmate, who was given to the reigning Sunset Water queen.”

Moon committed that to memory, in case it came up in later conversations. One of the benefits to being a consort was that he wasn’t expected to talk much during these visits. He would presumably have to speak to the other consort at some point, though. Just don’t get in a fight, he reminded himself.

Chime continued, “But I can’t think why Tempest is here with her. It’s not like a Sunset Water queen would need an introduction. They must have known we’d be happy to make an alliance with them.”

“We’ll find out,” Moon said. He folded his arms, resisting the urge to pace with Chime. It would be a while before he needed to appear. The warriors would be made comfortable down in the greeting hall, and the queens would be taken up to the queens’ hall to make pointed conversation with Jade, then Pearl would appear, then finally they would send for Moon. It might be different, considering the extra queen and the consort, but…

“Moon?” Floret stepped into the doorway. Her face was anxious, her copper skin flushed. “They want you in the queens’ hall now.”

“Already?” Chime stared. “Are you sure?”

Floret spared him an annoyed glance. “Very sure.” She told Moon, “Jade is…tense.”

“Right.” Moon bit his lip. Obviously the situation with Tempest was about to come to a head. It can’t be that bad. They wouldn’t bring a consort with them to declare war on us. I think. “I’ll go down.”

Chime said, worriedly, “Good luck.”

Moon took the winding stair down to the consorts’ passage, pausing for a quick look into the queens’ hall.

Everyone was sitting near the hearth basin, which had been filled with fresh warming stones, steaming faintly in the damp air. Cushions had been scattered around for seating, with the visiting queens and the consort facing Jade and Pearl, with Bone, Heart, Bell, and Knell, representing the four castes of the Arbora, arrayed in a half circle behind them. The four Arbora must have been hastily summoned; they were wearing silk robes, embroidered or with water-faded patterns. This was something of a shock, since Moon had seldom seen Bone and Knell wear anything but battered leathers and work clothes. The best kettle was on the heating stones in the hearth, with a set of blue-glazed cups waiting nearby.

Everyone was in groundling form, except the four queens, who were still winged. Jade and Pearl wore their best jewelry, armbands, heavy necklaces, rings, belts of silver wire and flat polished stones.

Facing them were the two foreign queens. Tempest was about Jade’s age, with light blue scales webbed with gold. Zephyr of Sunset Water, seated beside her, was older, with a heavier build, and had dark amber scales with a green web. The smaller figure of the consort was seated behind them, wearing a dark robe with the hood pulled up. From this angle all Moon could see were his hands, folded tightly in his lap.

Moon took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hall.

All eyes immediately went to him for one nerve-racking moment, then away. About halfway across the hall it occurred to him that no one was speaking, not even the pointed bordering-on-insult conversation of two courts testing one another. The Arbora radiated tension, all except Bone, who was as still as a rock.

Moon took a seat behind Jade, trying not to look awkward as he settled on the cushion. Pearl flicked her spines in acknowledgement, then started the introductions, naming Jade, Moon, and the four Arbora for the two foreign queens.

Fortunately, Moon wasn’t required to respond or acknowledge anyone during this part. He used the moment to try a casual glance over at the other consort, but the man was looking down, the hood obscuring his expression. All Moon could see was that he was fairly young, with light bronze skin.

Moon leaned down, tilting his head, trying for an angle that would give him a better look under the hood. Jade reached over and pinched his leg, and he sat up straight. It wasn’t Tempest’s consort, or at least not her main consort; Moon had met him briefly at Emerald Twilight, and he had been about Moon’s size. This consort must belong to Zephyr, which had to be a good sign.

Pearl finished her introductions, and Tempest said, with a trace of impatience, “Tempest, sister queen of Emerald Twilight, and Zephyr, sister queen of Sunset Water.”

Zephyr rippled her spines in acknowledgement, though she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Moon expected her to introduce the consort, but she didn’t.

Silence fell for a moment. Then Pearl said, “I think we all know what this is about.”

No one responded. As stiff as if even being here in the same room with them was an insult, Tempest said, “As I said last time, I’ve brought Zephyr, to prove that this is not some trick.” Her gaze on Jade, she said, “Did you tell him?”

Moon stared, a jolt of apprehension shooting through his body, as if he had heard the first reverberating grumble of a thunderstorm. This wouldn’t be about one of the Arbora, and there was only one other “him” here. He looked at Jade.

Jade showed Tempest the tips of her fangs. “No. I told you I wouldn’t.”

It was Bone who said, with quiet force, “The Arbora haven’t been told, so perhaps someone could explain.”

Her voice stiff with embarrassment, Heart said, “I was asked by both our queens not to speak of it.”

Bone reached over and patted her knee, showing that he didn’t blame her. “Well, apparently we’re speaking of it now.”

Pearl waved a lazy claw toward their visitors. “It’s their doing. Let them explain.”

Zephyr turned to Tempest, who was still locked in a staring contest with Jade. Resigned, Zephyr inclined her head to Bone, and said, “Your consort was from a court to the east, near the Gulf of Abascene, that was destroyed.”

“Yes.” Bone’s frown deepened. He glanced at Moon, whose heart had started to pound. “He was too young to remember anything of it.”

Zephyr conceded that with a nod. “When he was brought to Emerald Twilight a season ago, the reigning queen Ice believed that she might have recognized his bloodline.”

Moon made himself take a breath, careful not to let it out as a hiss. Bone, Knell, and Bell looked at him in growing consternation, but Heart had her eyes fixed on the floor.

Zephyr continued, “Ice said nothing of this at the time, because she wasn’t certain. It had been many, many turns since she visited the court in question. So she sent warriors to them with a message, asking if they had had a branch of their court go east during the turns of the Great Leaving, and if they had heard news from that branch in the past forty or so turns. They replied that they had, and that the portion of the court that had split off and gone to the east had been attacked and partially destroyed, and the survivors had returned to the home colony. They asked the reason for her curiosity.”

Tempest, as if unable to hold her peace a moment longer, snapped, “She was trying to do you a favor.”

Jade’s expression was stony. “And it’s turned out so well.”

Zephyr cleared her throat. “Ice sent another message, asking if among the lost there had been a consort fledgling called Moon. The message they sent in return—”

Jade’s voice was as tight as wire. “What do they want?”

Zephyr took a sharp breath. Still speaking to Bone, she said, “As Tempest told your queens on her last visit, Ice thought they would offer your court an alliance. At worst, she thought they would ignore the connection. Their response was…unexpected. Ice has been attempting to negotiate with them, to explain that the consort has been taken and there is no need to—”

Tempest said, flatly, “They want him back.”

Silence settled over the room, as if everyone had stopped breathing. Bone shook his head in grim disbelief. Bell looked as though he didn’t understand and didn’t want to, Knell’s face gave away nothing. Heart just looked miserable. Moon said, “Tell them to piss off.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in blank shock, as if the kettle had spoken. As if they just expected him to sit here silently and take this. He said, more pointedly, “Tell them to piss off.”

Pearl settled her spines. Jade reached for Moon’s wrist and he jerked his arm away in reflex. He was burning with fury. They—Jade—had lied to him, kept this from him.

Tempest asked Jade, “Have you clutched yet?”

Jade’s claws flexed, but she said, evenly enough, “No.”

Tempest sat back, hissing in a mix of regret and irritation.

“What?” Moon demanded. “Why does it matter if we’ve clutched or not?”

Her voice dry, Pearl said, “If you’d clutched, we could tell them to piss off.”

Zephyr stirred uneasily. Glancing from Jade to Pearl, she said, “I know what it looks like. But you’ve seen that Emerald Twilight has more consorts than they know what to do with. The idea never occurred to Ice or anyone else that a court would want one back, once he was claimed by a queen and comfortably settled.”

Moon said, “What do they want? In exchange for me.” He had a moment to realize that his voice sounded oddly normal, considering the turmoil going on in the rest of him.

Nobody answered. Pearl said, “It doesn’t work that way.” The trace of sympathy in her voice was almost the worst blow of the day. “We have no right to have you here.”

Her voice low and tight with tension, Jade told him, “We have to go there. I’ll have to formally ask them for you. Everything will be all right. They have an advantage over us, and they want to press it, that’s all. Don’t worry.”

That’s all. Don’t worry. It was nothing; that was why she and Pearl and Heart had been lying to him about it since Tempest’s last visit. Moon looked at the other consort, huddled silently behind the queens. If he belonged to Zephyr…They should have introduced him. They should have done that before now. He said to Zephyr, “Who is he? Does he belong to you?”

Startled, Zephyr twitched her tail, but didn’t answer. She threw a pointed look at Tempest.

Moon rounded on Jade. “Why is he here?”

Her claws flexed again, and she said, “It’s not what you think.”

Moon snarled and shifted, took one bound to the edge of the well and flung himself off. He dropped all the way down to the greeting hall, snapping his wings out at the last moment to break his fall. He landed on the floor in a crouch, scattered startled warriors and Arbora, and shot through the narrow passage out through the knothole, so fast he scraped his scales on the turns.

Chapter Four

Moon ended up in the mountain-tree’s canopy, higher up than anyone usually ventured, hanging upside down by his tail. The branches were narrower here, barely a few paces across, reaching up to tangle and weave themselves into a nearly impenetrable barrier. Nearly impenetrable. Earlier when the rain had stopped and the clouds opened up, Moon had climbed up through the entwined branches to fly above the forest.

He flew up past the clouds, into the bright sunlight, feeling the heat of it on his scales. He circled for a long time, listening to the distant high-pitched cries of the skylings that inhabited the upper air.

When the sun had moved toward evening, the clouds closed in again, and he dropped back to the tree canopy. He passed down through the branches into deep gloom, where drifts of mist formed, obscuring the lower platforms. He hung from a branch, listening to the birds and the treelings trill and chatter around him.

By nightfall it had started to rain heavily again, and Moon reluctantly decided he would have to go inside. The water drumming on the leaves and wood was not only uncomfortable, it would conceal any sound or scent of approaching predators. While being eaten would end all his problems, he wasn’t quite ready for so final a solution.

He started down, jumping from branch to branch. Closer to the trunk, he saw a circle of light, and realized it was the outside door in the consort’s level. It was never left open.

This gesture, for some reason, just ruined what little sense of calm and balance he had managed to attain. Hissing with irritation, he dropped down to the opening and landed on the little ledge below the door.

He took a cautious glance inside. The soft glow of the shells reflected warm red glints off the walls, and the room was empty. Moon climbed in and struggled to pull the heavy wooden door plug shut, then shot the bolts that held it in place. It was an awkward job to manage alone, and standing there, breathing hard from the effort, he felt exhaustion settle over him like a blanket. He had flown much further than he had today, on less food, but the intense emotion was draining. He shifted to groundling, forgetting that his scales were still wet. The water shifted with him, soaking his clothes and making them stick damply to his skin. That was about all he needed. He swore wearily and sneezed.

“Moon?” The tentative voice belonged to Rill. She stood in the doorway that led into the consorts’ bowers, watching him worriedly. “Why don’t you come in here? We’ve just made some tea.”

The last thing Moon wanted to do was talk, and it must have shown in his expression; Rill hastily withdrew.

Moon leaned on the wall and massaged the growing ache in his temple. He wanted to go to his own bower and sleep, but from the sound of movement and faint voices, he could tell they were between him and it.

Resigned, he traced his way through the maze of the empty consorts’ quarters, his feet leaving wet prints on the smooth wood. The breeze from the open doorway had found its way through here, and the air was almost as damp as it was outside.

He found them in a little sitting area that connected four of the larger bowers, one of them his. He stopped warily in the doorway, but the room held only Chime, Song, Root, Floret, and Vine, seated around the bowl of warming stones. Everyone was in groundling form, and everyone was staring at him, and it was hard to imagine a more uncomfortable moment. He saw Rill slip out through the opposite passage, probably going to tell Jade that he was back.

Moon was about to walk past them to his bower, when Chime smiled tentatively. “The foreign queens are still here, but they’re down in the guest quarters. So, you don’t have to see them.”

Moon didn’t have anything to say to that statement, which was bordering on the nonsensical. As if avoiding the queens would help. Song, braver than the others, patted the cushion next to her and said, “Moon, sit with us.”

That seemed to break the spell of awkward silence for the others. Chime moved the kettle back to the fire, and added, “Yes, come and sit. It must have been cold out there, when the rain started again.”

Vine put in, “They say the first rainy season is coming on now.”

Floret took that up hurriedly. “Not big storms though. Just a lot of rain like this, usually in the evening.”

It was suddenly tempting, and Moon felt his resolve weaken. After silently raging half the day, it would be something of a relief to sit here and listen to them talk about the weather and pretend nothing had happened.

He moved forward and took a seat on a woven grass mat, his clothes squelching unpleasantly. Chime hurriedly poured a cup of tea and set it in front of him.

As Moon picked it up, Chime cleared his throat. “We wanted to ask you to talk to the new consort.”

Moon stared at him, too incredulous to react. Chime, his eyes on the dregs in the bottom of the teapot, didn’t notice. He continued, “He begged Tempest not to leave him here. We heard him.”

Song rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. “Think about what it’s like to be packed off to a court where no one wants you.”

Moon pressed a hand to his temple, fighting the urge to laugh.

“He doesn’t have to think about it,” Root said suddenly, with a pointed glance around at the others. “Nobody wanted Moon here, remember?”

There was a moment of appalled silence. Then Floret hissed and aimed a slap at Root’s head. He rolled out of reach, bounced up to stand in the safety of the passage door, and hissed at them all. “You know it’s true!”

Root had been one of those who hadn’t wanted Moon here, though he had changed his mind at some point. His insistence on saying exactly what he thought, without restraint, had always been annoying. But for once Moon was glad to have someone acknowledging the obvious.

Exasperated, Floret started to stand, asking Root, “What’s wrong with you?”

Moon said, “Leave him alone.”

His voice came out in a hard rasp. Everyone went still for a moment, then Floret sank back onto the mat. Root ducked down the passage and made his escape.

The silence stretched, until Chime continued, stubbornly, “Someone has to talk to the new consort.”

“You talk to him.” Moon drained his cup and set it aside. At least he didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

Chime looked up at last, his brow furrowed. “I can’t, I shouldn’t. I’m your friend.”

Moon pushed to his feet. “You’re going to need a new friend,” he said, and walked past them, through the passage and the door of his bower.

Once inside he stopped. He hadn’t spent much time in this room, and now he never would. He went to the basket and pulled out the old clothes that Petal had found for him back on his first day in the court, a dark-colored shirt of fine soft material and pants of tougher fabric. They had been mended and stained a little, and he wore them for exploring trips and hunting. Everything he owned was a gift predicated on him being the consort of Indigo Cloud, but a gift from poor dead Petal he was still willing to accept.

He changed into them, and was draping his wet clothes over the chest when Chime walked in.

“Why are you so angry?” Chime demanded. “Did you even see him, he’s practically a fledgling. He’s probably not even fertile yet—”

Moon rounded on him and Chime fell back a step, startled into silence. Gritting his teeth to keep from shifting and biting Chime’s head off, Moon said, “That’s Jade’s problem. I’ll be gone tomorrow and I don’t give a piss what you all do with him.”

Chime just looked bewildered. “Gone tomorrow? What?”

“Tomorrow, the next day, whenever.” Moon couldn’t believe that Tempest would spend one more moment at Indigo Cloud than she absolutely had to, or that Jade and Pearl would let her.

Chime’s jaw dropped and his expression turned appalled. “You can’t leave, not over this! That’s crazy. Moon, it’s not worth it.” He waved a hand in exasperation. “You just don’t understand; it doesn’t mean what you think it does. Just because Jade takes another consort doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you—”

“Stop it,” Moon snapped. It was impossible that Chime didn’t know. But Chime was still staring at him, confused, hurt. “I’m not leaving. They’re taking me to another court. It’s a trade, Chime, me for a new consort.”

“What?” Chime’s expression now clearly said that he thought Moon was out of his mind. “No, you must have misunderstood.”

Hearing it put like that made Moon realize just how badly he wanted it to be a misunderstanding. Watching his face, Chime’s eyes widened. “But—”

“Moon.” It was Jade, standing in the doorway.

Moon stepped away from Chime, looking toward the basin hearth. He had been expecting Jade to appear, but he had no idea what she was going to say to him, or what he wanted to say to her.

Jade said, “Moon, come with me.”

His throat went dry, then he told himself not to be stupid. They couldn’t be leaving now; it was dark, raining. “Where?”

Irritation colored her voice. “To my bower, where do you think?”

Anger boiled, mostly at himself for that moment of fear. As if he had never been a helpless fledgling fighting for his life on a stormy night; this was nothing. He said, “Why? Do you want to make sure I don’t run away?”

Jade’s spines flared as she stepped forward. “Then we’ll talk here. Chime, get out.”

Chime hesitated, but then he fled, slipping out the door.

She came further into the bower and stopped a few paces away. She folded her arms, but her tail was twitching, betraying nerves. “They didn’t know. I told Heart and the others not to speak of it yet. They thought you were angry because I accepted a new consort from Tempest.”

“You didn’t think they’d notice when I left?” Moon didn’t think it would make a difference whether the court knew or not. If the leaders of the Arbora castes weren’t going to make any objection, then it didn’t matter what the warriors thought. Not that he had many friends among the warriors.

The nervous flicking of Jade’s tail turned into an outright lash. “Moon, this is nothing. I’ll appease Opal Night by formally asking for you, and we’ll come home. I promise you—”

Opal Night, Moon thought. If he had been hoping for a long-buried start of recognition, it didn’t come. The name meant nothing. “If it’s that simple, why did Tempest bring you a consort to replace me?”

“He’s not a replacement!” The words came out as a snarl, and Jade took a deep breath before she continued, “He’s an apology from Emerald Twilight. What happened with Halcyon was embarrassment enough, but when their attempt to make up for it turns into this—”

“You knew they were bringing him. When Tempest came here before, that’s what she told you. You knew…” Moon let the words trail off. The wristband. The one he had caught Gold and Merry making. Gold’s embarrassment and Merry’s sly question. It was a gift for him, the new consort. It was another twist in his heart.

Jade turned away and paced a few steps toward the hearth. That told Moon everything he needed to know. Her voice low, Jade said, “She came to warn us. I didn’t want to tell you. I wanted to…wait.”

He didn’t ask for what. Of course she wanted to wait to tell him. Better to keep him quiet and obedient and in her bed until the new consort arrived. It wasn’t unprecedented. Every bleak day he had been kicked out of a groundling camp or town was parading through Moon’s memory, every time his willingness to fit in had been taken advantage of, every small betrayal, every time someone had said, You’re a good worker, but…

Jade’s spines shivered. “Zephyr said Opal Night is a powerful court, the largest in the far west Reaches. She and Tempest haven’t been there. Emerald Twilight hasn’t had trade with them for turns, and Ice sent her messages to them through other courts.” Impatient at his silence, she said, “You aren’t the least bit curious to know your family?”

That was the wrong tack to take. You’re my family, he wanted to say. But it didn’t feel true anymore. “No.”

She watched him, her frown deepening. “Why not?”

Moon closed his eyes, forcing the anger down enough to give her a real answer. He had been better off thinking they were all dead, that he was the last remnant of a destroyed court. Now he knew the bitter truth. “Sorrow was carrying four baby Arbora and a fledgling. How far from her colony do you think she got?”

Jade didn’t answer. He opened his eyes, in time to see the flicker of doubt in her expression. She admitted, “Not far.”

“They could have searched. They could have found us. That’s what she was waiting for. She waited turns for them to find us.”

“Maybe they thought there were no survivors. Maybe they gave up.”

“You and Pearl didn’t give up.” When the Fell had taken the old Indigo Cloud colony, trapping most of the court, Jade and Pearl had been determined to free them or die with them.

“Pearl and I didn’t have a mother court to run back to.” Jade hissed out a breath and looked away. “You won’t know their reason unless you ask them.”

“You want me to go.” It was as close as he could come to speaking the thought at the center of the biggest knot of pain in his chest. Jade had said she still wanted a clutch and he believed her. If they had had one by now, they wouldn’t be in this situation. She had to realize the problem was with him, that he could contribute nothing to Indigo Cloud’s future. Turning him out of the court or even out of her bed might have seemed too harsh, especially after the way he had helped them find the stolen seed, and the promises she had made him. But this was a way to be rid of him with a clear conscience.

It would almost be easier if she admitted it. Almost.

But Jade, as if annoyed at his obtuseness, said, “Of course not. Queens don’t give up consorts.”

“Cloud’s queen gave him up. That’s why you’re all here.”

“You know only one story from our history and that’s the second time you’ve thrown it in my face.” Anger hardening her voice again, she said, “I told you, I’ll follow you there, and make them give you back. I won’t leave there without you.”

“Follow me?”

Jade’s jaw set. “Tempest refuses to let me travel with her. She thinks it would only antagonize Opal Night further. But I’ll only be a day behind you.”

He wanted to believe that, so bad it made his bones ache. But he couldn’t; the faith just wasn’t there. “You’ve been lying to me about this for days. Why should I believe you now?”

In the next heartbeat Jade had crossed the space between them and grabbed his shoulders. Her claws pricked his skin through the silky material of his shirt and her face was a tight combination of hurt and fury. “You want me to hurt you so you can hate me? Would that make this easier?”

Moon didn’t flinch. “Nothing could make this easier.”

It was only the heartfelt truth, and Jade’s expression turned stricken. She released him and moved away, staring down at the floor as if it had the answers. After a long moment, she said, quietly, “I promise you, you will be back here as First Consort before the month changes.”

Even as she said it, the overwhelming sense that it wouldn’t happen overcame him. She might believe she was telling the truth, but he knew it wouldn’t come to pass. He said, “When does Tempest mean to leave?”

Jade’s spines flattened. She looked up, brows lowered. “Tomorrow morning, if the rain’s stopped.”

“I’ll be there,” Moon said, and walked past her and out of the room.

He slept in Stone’s empty bower that night. The blankets in the bed still retained a wisp of Stone’s scent, and it made Moon remember that first trip across the mountains and the plains to the old Indigo Cloud colony, when anything had seemed possible.

* * *

When Moon woke, he thought at first it was an ordinary day. While the garden platforms were drying out, he and Jade had had a tentative plan to go flying through the suspended forest with Chime, Balm, and some of the other warriors, if the rain held off. Rain, he thought, and remembered.

He lay still, listening, filtering out the faint sounds of movement and voices from elsewhere in the tree, the falling water from the nearest fountains. He couldn’t hear drops drumming on the trunk or branches. If it was raining, it was too light to be heard. Which meant they would be leaving today.

Good, he told himself, knowing from experience that dragging out his departure would just make it that much worse.

But there were things he had to do first. He dragged himself out of Stone’s bed and dropped to the floor, his head aching and his muscles tense and sore. He felt as tired as if he hadn’t slept at all. He had seen groundlings suffer morning-after illnesses from too much drink or drugs; he hadn’t known you could suffer the same result from too much emotion.

He stumbled out of Stone’s bower and down the passage into the common area, only to discover he had an audience. Balm and Chime sat beside the hearth basin. From the blankets tumbled on the floor, they had slept here. Balm was staring at the heating stones, distracted and unhappy, pulling at a lock of her hair. Chime was huddled blearily beside her, and didn’t look as if he had slept particularly well, either.

They looked up as Moon stopped in the doorway. Balm started to speak, but before she could, Chime surged to his feet and said, “I didn’t know. We didn’t know.”

Moon nodded. It hardly seemed to matter now. “Where’s the new consort?”

Chime hesitated, but Balm pointed to the passage across the way. “Just down there, the third bower along.”

Moon stepped past them and went down the passage.

One of the mentors must have renewed the shell-lights down in this unused section, because it was brighter than Moon remembered. He stopped in the doorway of the third bower. The young consort was awake and sitting on a mat near the hearth basin, wearing the same dark-colored robe he had worn yesterday, without the concealing hood. His arms were folded and his shoulders hunched, though the room itself was warm enough. It was a good-sized bower but bare, empty except for a pile of folded blankets beneath the hanging bed and a small collection of packs and bags shoved against the wall. The place had the signs of a hasty cleaning, with a few stray dead leaves and damp spots left behind. As Moon stepped through the doorway, the consort glanced up, his eyes widening. He pushed to his feet.

He looked as young as Chime had implied, but though his body was almost too slender, his shoulders were broad; Moon thought he was probably past adolescence, if only just. His skin was a lighter bronze than usual for the Aeriat of Indigo Cloud or Emerald Twilight, and his hair was a light gold-brown. Next to him, Moon felt huge and awkward, as if he suddenly had too many bones and they were sticking out in the wrong places.

Moon said, “Who are you?” The young consort stared blankly at him, and Moon clarified, “What’s your name?”

“Uh.” He cleared his throat, and managed to blurt out, “I’m Ember, of Emerald Twilight, of the bloodline of Tempest and Fade.”

Moon hadn’t asked for a pedigree, but it was the way consorts were normally introduced. He supposed it was meant as a compliment that Tempest had handed over a consort from one of her own clutches, but Moon hadn’t had terribly good luck with her offspring so far. “You’re Ash’s clutchmate?”

“No, we’re not—We’re only half—” Ember took a sharp breath, as if bracing himself. “Fade had something wrong with his heart when he was born, and the mentors couldn’t heal it. They said it wouldn’t be passed on to his clutches, so when he was old enough Tempest took him as her second consort so the court wouldn’t lose his bloodline. But he only gave her one clutch before he died.” Ember dropped his gaze, in an agony of self-consciousness. “Just me, and four warriors. But we’re all healthy.”

Moon rubbed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. He might be mature and fertile, but he’s still practically a fledgling. A pampered and beloved fledgling, probably right up until the moment they tore him away from his brothers and sent him off to a foreign court with a terrible reputation. When Moon was that age, he had been experimenting with passing himself off as a groundling for longer periods of time, under more dangerous circumstances; and learning that he could use sex to get someone to be nice to him, for a while at least. And coming to terms with the fact that no place was entirely safe, that anyone could turn on him.

Weary past bearing, Moon said, “If you don’t want to stay up here alone, take the spiral stair at the west end of this level all the way down to the greeting hall. The hall just below it belongs to the teachers. They always have food there and they’ll take care of you.” He knew the teachers would take care of Ember, once they got a look at him; they had even taken care of Moon when he had first arrived, an unwanted feral solitary. That seemed like it was half a lifetime ago, not just the better part of a turn.

Ember looked up at him, wary but hopeful. Moon turned away, unable to take it a moment more.

He was in the doorway when Ember said, “Shadow said that I shouldn’t be afraid of you.”

Moon stopped. He had a surge of bitter jealousy for Shadow, secure in his court with more clutches than he could probably remember fathering. He said, “Shadow doesn’t know me.”

He left the bowers, avoiding the common area, finding his way through the back passages and out to the open gallery above the queens’ level and the central well. He shifted and jumped off, snapping his wings out to slow his fall, and landed on the floor of the greeting hall.

A group of warriors, Tempest and Zephyr’s attendants, sat grouped around the hearth basin near the fountain, watching him with wary curiosity. Ignoring them, he took the stairs down to the teachers’ hall. Several Arbora sat around the hearth, but Moon whipped past before anyone could try to speak to him and fled down the passage to the nurseries.

Outside the door with its carvings of fledglings and baby Arbora at play, he stopped and shifted to groundling. It was hard to make himself step through into the room beyond.

Inside was a big low-ceilinged chamber, well-lit, with a maze of smaller rooms opening off the main area, and several shallow fountain pools, each filled just enough to wash and play but not drown in. Most of the younger fledglings and Arbora were still asleep, curled up in nests of furs and blankets on the floor.

Bark crossed the main area, carrying a basket, still mussed with sleep herself. She saw Moon and stopped, staring. “Oh, Moon. I—”

“I need to see the royal clutch.”

She hesitated, but didn’t ask why. The word must have spread last night. “They’re asleep, but—” She bit her lip. “Yes, you’d better.”

She led him to a small room off the main area. The three royal fledglings slept in a pile of blankets, surrounded by baskets, rag toys, and some carved wooden grasseater figures. Bark crouched beside the nest to gently wake the occupants. She separated out two warrior fledglings and an Arbora toddler, gathered them up despite sleepy protests and carried them away.

As she left, Frost, Thorn, and Bitter were sitting up, blinking and yawning. Thorn and Bitter were in their groundling forms, dressed in soft old hand-me-down shirts, and Frost was in her smaller Arbora form, her spines and frills looking oddly abbreviated. They didn’t seem surprised to see Moon despite the early hour, and Bitter immediately tried to climb into his lap and go to sleep again. Moon sat him back down between Frost and Thorn. “I came to tell you that I have to go away for a little while.”

Frost immediately went from soft and drowsy to wide awake and mutinous. “You can’t leave. Who’s going to teach Bitter to fly?”

“I don’t have a choice.” Moon took a deep breath, and forced the sharpness out of his tone. “When Stone comes back, he can teach Bitter.”

There was a short startled silence. Reluctantly, Frost settled her ruffled spines. “Did someone steal the seed again?”

“No, nothing like that.” Everyone else seemed to have forgotten that incident. Or instead of remembering Moon’s place in it as the consort who helped find and retrieve the precious seed, he had somehow morphed into the consort who had just gone along for the flight. “You’ll be fine here.”

He thought he was doing fairly well at keeping his emotions off his face, but Frost exchanged an uneasy look with Bitter. Some communication seemed to pass between them, and Frost turned back to Moon. She said, “If you’ll stay, Bitter will fly.”

Bitter nodded gravely, with the attitude of someone making a terrible sacrifice for the greater good.

Moon rubbed his eyes. Oh fine, Bitter’s been faking it all this time just for attention. You would think, as the smallest royal fledgling, Bitter had more attention than he could handle. But after what Bitter had been through, maybe no amount was enough. And Moon had thought raising fledglings was one of the few Raksuran things he might be good at. “So Bitter has been able to fly all this time.”

Thorn shrugged uneasily and pulled Bitter into his lap. “Yes, but he’s not good at it. The last time he tried, the Fell caught him. We went back to get him, and they caught us too.”

So that explained it. Bitter buried his face against Thorn’s arm. Moon had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment before he could say, “I appreciate the offer, but I told you, I don’t have a choice.”

Thorn watched Moon carefully, his brow furrowed with increasing concern. He said, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing. I have to visit another court for a while. I’ll—” Moon meant to say I’ll be back soon but the easy lie froze in his throat. He had been lying all his life, but for some reason the knack had deserted him just when he needed it the most. He finished, “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Frost shook her head, in denial and protest. “But—”

“That’s all, I have to leave now.” He had to leave before he made a bigger mess of this than he already had. Before he could get up, Bitter lunged into his lap for a hug. So he held each of them for a moment, then made himself get up and leave the nursery.

He took the interior stairs up through the tree, avoiding the populated sections. When he reached the consorts’ level, Chime and Balm were gone from the common area. He wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not.

In his bower, Moon rummaged through the basket for things he would need if the new court took one look at him and threw him out immediately. He found a battered leather travel pack and put in a knife, some flints, spare clothes, the sash Rill had made him, a rolled-up waterskin and a thick blanket. He had arrived at Indigo Cloud with nothing, but he thought fighting the Fell and helping to recover the seed was worth at least this much.

Getting to his feet, he looked around the room. After a moment of arguing with himself, he picked up a tiny rag doll Thorn had made for him. It was just a twist of black cloth with a dried leathery palm leaf for wings, but he put it carefully in the bottom of the pack.

He left his gold consort’s bracelet on the edge of the hearth basin.

Chapter Five

By the time Moon took the interior stairs down to the greeting hall, Tempest and Zephyr had joined their warriors. Jade was there as well, with Balm, Chime, and Heart. A number of Arbora watched from the balconies in the levels above, and warriors hung from every vantage point.

Despite that, it was very quiet in the hall.

As Moon walked toward the queens, Zephyr was saying, “No, I won’t be going to Opal Night. I’m returning to my court.”

Jade tilted her head and fixed her gaze on Tempest. “You’ve kept that to yourself.”

Tempest bristled. “You didn’t ask.”

Jade’s spines rose. “You let me assume you wouldn’t be taking this long journey alone with your warriors. And my consort.”

“You think I’ll take advantage?” Tempest laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

It wasn’t until then that Moon understood what they were talking about. He stopped and folded his arms, growling under his breath. At that moment, if he never saw a Raksuran queen again, it would be too soon.

In the quiet, the growl was perfectly audible. The conversation stopped abruptly and the whole group turned to stare at him.

With a wry tilt to her head, Zephyr said, “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be a concern.”

Jade dismissed Tempest with a flick of her spines, and crossed the hall to stand in front of Moon. He didn’t think she would notice, but it was the first thing she saw. She lifted his bare wrist and rubbed her thumb over the pulse point. She met his eyes, her expression glum, and said, “If you accept another queen before I get there, I’ll kill you both.”

He freed his wrist. He refused to feel like he was the one rejecting her. “It’s a deal.”

Jade let out a huff of breath, bitterly amused. “That was good. I think you just managed to insult your entire race and culture in one sentence.” She added deliberately, “I’ll leave for Opal Night tomorrow at dawn.”

Moon wanted to believe that so much it made his whole body hurt. But everything in his life up to this point said that this was the end, that he would never see her or any of the others again. Trying to struggle out from under the weight of the past was like drowning. After a strangled moment, he managed to choke out, “I’ll be waiting.”

Jade reached for him impulsively and Moon stepped back. He couldn’t look at her anymore, he couldn’t touch her. He had to be able to walk out of here, and not be dragged out screaming, trying to get his teeth into Tempest’s throat. Jade hesitated, then dropped her hand. “Do you want to say…I mean, talk to anyone?”

She meant say goodbye. Though he refused to look at them, Moon could feel Chime, Balm, and Heart staring at him, but he didn’t see any point to a formal farewell. If Jade was telling the truth, he would be back here soon, and if she wasn’t…He still didn’t see any point to it. “No.”

Tempest and Zephyr moved toward the passage to the knothole, and Moon turned to follow them.

There was still no sound or movement from any of the Arbora or Aeriat watching from above, and the silence burned into Moon’s back as he crossed the hall. He realized a very stupid part of him was hoping someone would yell “Stop!” at the last moment. His throat started to ache, choking him with an urge to do…something. Maybe wail in pain, the way Raksura expressed their grief.

He conquered the impulse, and followed the queens through the passage out of Indigo Cloud.

* * *

Zephyr took her warriors away toward Sunset Water, and Moon flew with Tempest and the others through the great green caverns of the suspended forest.

They passed through a light rain at midday, but the wind stayed calm. Tempest kept to an easy pace for the slower-flying warriors’ sake, and following her lead didn’t require much of Moon’s attention. He would have preferred a more difficult trip; the last thing he needed was time to think.

When the day’s light began to fail, Tempest slowed their flight and banked down to a platform high in the branches of a mountain-tree. The platform supported a stand of trees with bright green canopies and white flowers, common to the forest. The Arbora called them puffblossoms, because the flowers dropped their seeds in delicate puffy globes that caught and traveled in the breeze. These were in seed now, and the whole platform was covered in drifts of white fluff.

Tempest and the warriors landed in the high grass at the edge of the stand, their wings stirring up a storm of delicate blossoms. Moon lighted a little distance away, rippling his spines to shake off the puffy seeds and folding his wings.

The others moved into the trees, to a spot where the grass was sparse, and spread out to scout the area. There was a pond there, fed by a fall of water from one of the mountain-tree’s higher branches. Moon turned and walked away from the grove, toward a spot of flat bare moss and hard dirt at the edge of the run-off from the pond.

Across the canyon formed by the enormous canopies, another mountain-tree boasted larger platforms, some with open stretches of grass and others thickly clustered with smaller trees. As Moon focused on it, movement on one of the lower platforms resolved into a herd of furry grasseaters; probably the reason Tempest had picked this place to stop.

He glanced back at the camp. Three of the warriors had shifted to groundling and were sorting through the packs, shaking out blankets, filling a waterskin from the fall into the pond. The two others had kept their winged forms and had taken up guard positions in the puffblossom branches.

Moon didn’t want to shift; he already felt too vulnerable, from the dangers of the suspended forest, from his companions. But his back ached from flying with tense muscles and he needed to rest. Reluctantly, he took his groundling form.

Losing the weight of his wings was a relief, and he stretched until his joints popped, then sat down beside the stream. He wasn’t looking forward to the night. He hoped making it clear that he wanted to be alone would keep the warriors away from him. Of course, beating one or two of them senseless would keep them away from him too, but he didn’t want to give Tempest an excuse to keep him from shifting.

He was watching the multi-colored snails inching along the wood at the water’s edge when he sensed someone approaching. He looked up to see Tempest coming toward him.

Moon tensed, bracing himself to simultaneously shift and leap backward. Tempest stopped, dropped her spines and held up her hands, claws retracted. With an edge of ironic amusement in her voice, she said, “Easy, I just want to talk.”

Moon settled reluctantly, watching her. She came closer, stopped about five paces away and eased down to sit on her heels so they were eye level. She said, with a trace of skepticism, “I find it hard to believe you became that attached to Indigo Cloud in such a short time.”

Moon bared his teeth, not in a smile. “It’s not as exciting as Emerald Twilight. No sister queens plotting to take over the court.”

Her jaw tightened, her spines shivered with the effort not to flare, and she looked away. After a long moment, she let her breath out, and flicked away a drift of puffblossom. “I asked for that.” Her voice was dry. “I’ve paid for it, too. I don’t have so many sisters that I can lose one. Even one who hated me.”

After their trading visit to Emerald Twilight, the warriors and Arbora had brought back a rumor that Ice had tried to exile Halcyon for plotting against Tempest and Ash, Halcyon had refused to go, and Tempest and Halcyon had settled the matter by fighting to the death. Though Moon had felt sorry for Ice and Shadow at the time, overall he thought it was good riddance. He thought Tempest deserved an honest answer as to his feelings now, so he said, “I don’t care.”

It surprised her and she glanced at him, lifting a brow. “You aren’t a shy one, are you.”

Moon just continued to regard her, certain that was probably intended as more of an insult than it sounded. Consorts his age were supposed to be shy and reserved, like Ember. Not sullen and reticent, like him. If Moon was just a little more suspicious, he might wonder if he had been lured out of the court so that Tempest could kill him, as revenge for what had happened with Halcyon. The only reason that wasn’t more than an idle thought was the fact that Tempest could have killed him anytime in the past day, with no one but her warriors the wiser; there was no reason to travel any further.

Apparently expecting more of a response, Tempest snorted in exasperation. “Are you planning to behave this way at Opal Night?”

Meaning she expected him to have to beg to be accepted. Moon knew how that would go. “I’ve lived in a Raksuran court for only six months out of more than forty turns. If you think I’m afraid to be alone, you’re wrong.”

Tempest frowned, the skepticism in her expression gradually giving way to something harder to read. “It’s your birthcourt. It’s the largest court of the far west Reaches. You don’t see this as an opportunity?”

An opportunity for what? He didn’t know why Opal Night had demanded him, except that it was a way to exercise power over another court. If it was so large then it should have no need for extra consorts; if Moon was stuck there, the best he could expect was to be handed off to some unknown queen who was unlikely to consider a former feral solitary as any great prize. The worst…He didn’t know what the worst would be. Though Tempest might. Watching her intently, he said, “Maybe they don’t want a feral solitary in their bloodline.”

Tempest drew back, spines lifting in affront. “What do you mean?”

“They left me to die in a forest when I was a fledgling. How do I know they don’t want to finish what they started?”

Tempest hissed, surged to her feet in one fluid motion, spines rigid with contempt. “If you really believe that’s even remotely possible, you know little of us.”

Moon glared up at her. “I think I know too much of you.”

Tempest lashed her tail, crouched and leapt upward. Two strong flaps took her up to one of the mountain-tree’s lower branches. The gust of air stirred by her wings would have knocked Moon over, if he hadn’t braced himself.

From the shelter of the puffblossom trees, the warriors stared.

Moon let out his breath and flicked water over the snails. Apparently he had won; he didn’t feel proud of the victory.

Later, Tempest sent two of the warriors over to the grasseaters grazing on the platforms of the other mountain-tree to take a kill. They divided the meat up among the whole group, and Moon made himself eat, even though he wasn’t hungry. The light rain returned as full darkness fell, and the warriors put up a couple of thin stretches of fabric for a shelter. The cloth was treated with a kind of tree sap to keep the water from soaking through it.

Tempest and her female warriors Beacon and Prize took one tent, with Moon ordered to take the other, with two of the male warriors for company. The fifth warrior was set on watch, the others to trade out with him during the night.

It was full dark by the time Moon ducked into the tent, and the two warriors, Dart and Gust, were already occupying one end of the space. At least he didn’t have to look at them, though the scent of unfamiliar Aeriat put his nerves on edge. He had been too long in Indigo Cloud, where everyone was familiar, even if he didn’t like all of them.

As Moon crouched down and felt for a good sleeping spot in the moss and dirt, Dart said, “So this is the consort Halcyon was willing to kill for? I’m not impressed.”

Gust hissed a laugh. “Maybe he learned some tricks living with groundlings.”

Moon found a soft, not too wet place to lie down, and settled into it. He thought about how tormenting this behavior would be for a sheltered consort like Ember, and said, “If you touch me while I’m asleep, I’ll kill you both. I’ll tell Tempest a bowelripper got you.” He leaned forward, and said with hard emphasis, “You’ll look like a bowelripper got you.”

Dart and Gust froze into frightened silence. Moon curled up, using his pack as a pillow, and went to sleep.

* * *

That was how it went for the next three days of travel. The nights were wet and uncomfortable in the mostly inadequate shelter they found, and none of them got much rest. After the first night with Dart and Gust, the warriors tended to treat Moon with wary respect. They kept their distance, Moon ignored them, and Tempest didn’t speak to him except about the bare necessities of travel. Moon preferred it this way, but it left him with far too much time to think.

One topic that took up a lot of his time was the possibility of being alone again. If his pessimism proved accurate and Jade didn’t come for him, he would have to leave the Reaches as soon as possible. Raksura who were alone were assumed to be solitaries exiled from their courts for some intolerable act. A solitary consort would be assumed to be a murderer, groundling-eater, or worse. He would be better off in a groundling city, somewhere like the Golden Islands.

For a while he thought about that, about traveling east to the Yellow Sea, seeing if Delin and Niran needed a Raksura on their exploring and trading trips. But it was a long way to travel alone, and if he got there only to find there was no permanent place for him…It was a depressing prospect.

And Flower, with almost her last breath, had asked him not to give up on the Raksura. It was a promise he had made without any idea of how hard it would be to keep.

* * *

On the afternoon of the fourth day, they stopped to hunt big grasseaters on one of the platforms. At least the others did; they had made it plain that Moon’s help was not welcome. So he sprawled napping on a branch and didn’t see what happened until the shouts of alarm woke him.

He jerked upright to see the herd of grasseaters, furry rumps rolling as they ran, vanish into the trees at the far end of the platform. Near this end, Dart struggled frantically, one leg caught by a dark green creature, toad-like but nearly the size of the big grasseaters. It had risen out of a concealed dirt burrow in the heavy moss. Prize, the youngest female warrior, was on the ground, dodging clawed swipes from the creature’s free hand, trying to strike at its face. She misjudged and the creature slammed her across the platform. Moon snarled a curse and leapt off the branch, snapped his wings out to propel himself down as fast as possible. He thought, This is what happens to idiot warriors who don’t know how to hunt safely.

Moon landed on the creature’s scaly back, all his claws extended. It roared in pain, stopped trying to drag Dart into its mouth, and dropped him to reach back for Moon. Moon jerked his wings up to shield his head, flared his spines and found the spot he was looking for, a soft vulnerable patch just under the lower edge of its skull. Ground predators who looked like this usually had one. It grabbed a handful of his spines just as he stabbed his claws through the softer patch of skin and cut through what he was fairly certain was an artery.

Its grip went loose and it shuddered under him, then slumped. Moon leapt backward off it, then warily circled around the body, watching for signs of life. When its eyes went dim, he turned to look for Dart and Prize.

Tempest and the others were just swooping in to land. Dart stood over Prize, who had shifted to groundling and huddled in the flattened grass, eyes closed and teeth gritted, her face twisted in pain. Moon hopped closer, realizing her right shoulder was dislocated. He hissed in sympathy; he knew more about wing join injuries than he wanted to. The shock of the impact must have sent her into groundling form, making the injury worse. It didn’t look like a break, but it looked bad enough.

“Are you hurt?” Tempest asked Dart.

He shook his head, clearly miserable. “Prize tried to help me and it got her. The consort—”

“I saw it,” Tempest interrupted. She gave Moon an opaque look. “You’re all right?”

Moon shook his spines out. “Yes.”

“She can’t go on,” Beacon said. She crouched hurriedly to hold Prize’s shoulders as Prize retched in pain. Beacon looked up at Tempest worriedly. “She needs a mentor.”

Tempest nodded, her spines flicking. “Viridian Sea is close enough that we can reach it by nightfall. We’ll go there.”

Moon offered, “I’ll carry her.” He was about to add that if he and Tempest went on ahead, leaving the others to follow, they could probably get Prize there in half the time.

But Tempest said sharply, “No. We take care of our own.”

Moon bit back a hiss, insulted. “Fine. Next time I’ll let the predator eat him.”

Tempest ignored him, though the male warriors exchanged sulky glances.

Tempest carried Prize herself as they flew toward Viridian Sea, and Moon had time to realize why she was angry. Tempest hadn’t taken care of her own, and Moon had. If Moon had been a warrior, even one from a foreign court, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But he was a consort technically under Tempest’s protection, who clearly didn’t need that protection.

Jade had never seemed to mind, or at least never showed it. Maybe it was different because he had been Jade’s consort, so everything he did was somehow to her credit, since she had chosen him.

It was nice to have finally figured that out, now that it was too late.

* * *

The heavy rain started about midway through the flight, and they arrived at Viridian Sea well after nightfall, guided in by the colony’s lights. It wasn’t in a mountain-tree, but was built out of some knobby bulbous growth of wood nestled in the branches of a mountain-thorn. It was smaller and less thorny than the one Emerald Twilight inhabited, but still tricky to fly through in the dark.

By the time they reached the landing platform built out from the colony’s main entrance, the court was aware of them, and warriors and Arbora had come out to investigate. Fortunately, Viridian Sea seemed to be fairly reasonable, as far as Raksuran courts went. As soon as the warriors realized there was an injury, the reigning queen herself came down to rush them through the greeting process, so within moments they were ushered out of the rain and into the large wooden chamber of the colony’s greeting hall. Prize was helped away by mentors, accompanied by Beacon.

Moon stood to the side while the Viridian Sea queen and Tempest finished the greeting. He thought this colony might be fairly new; the hall was modest, with only two high-ceilinged levels, four passages opening off it, and the carvings in the walls looked fresh under the glow of the spell-lights. There were some flowering vines trained to cross the ceiling but no fountains or falls of water.

This court might be small, but it seemed healthy. The warriors and Arbora crowding the passages to get a look at the visitors had groundling forms that weren’t much different from those at Indigo Cloud and Emerald Twilight, most with bronze or copper skin and dark hair, though there was a distinctive strain of red-blonde mixed into their bloodline.

Moon just hoped they got offered a meal, since they hadn’t eaten their fill for two days. He had shifted to groundling along with the warriors, his clothes were dripping wet, and he felt grubby and tired. Bored, he scuffed his heel on the smooth wood floor, then realized the others had stopped speaking. He looked up to see the Viridian Sea warriors and Arbora staring at him expectantly. Amaranth, the queen, had her head tilted toward him in inquiry. “Your consort?” she prompted Tempest.

“No.” Tempest stiffened slightly but managed not to sound horrified at the thought. “We’re conducting him to Opal Night.”

Amaranth, who was somewhat older and larger than Tempest, flicked a spine, and the atmosphere in the hall grew distinctly colder. Moon figured that with the injured warrior having been taken care of, both queens had remembered that they were Raksura and therefore hated each other on sight. Amaranth said, “I assume he has a name.”

Tempest flicked a spine back at her. “He’s Moon, of Indigo Cloud.”

Amaranth stepped toward him and Moon twitched back, ready to bolt for the exit. But she stopped and tasted the air. “He’s been taken.” She tilted her head toward Tempest again. “Not by you.”

Tempest grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

Amaranth settled her spines and clearly made the difficult decision not to take violent offense. She said, “Then we’ll sit down, and you’ll tell it.”

Moon groaned inwardly, resigned to a long evening of tension and stares.

They were led into another hall, this one a little smaller. It was less drafty and had a large bowl hearth with warming stones. The band of carved flowers and trees just below the curve of the ceiling looked older and more finished.

As Moon looked for a place to sit, a consort dropped out of the ceiling and landed at Amaranth’s side. He was almost as tall as she was. He kept his winged form long enough to make sure the visitors had registered his size, then he shifted to groundling. In this form he didn’t show any of the telltales of age: his bronze skin and dark hair hadn’t started to gray yet. But there was a weight of gold bracelets and bands on his wrists and arms, the outward signs of Amaranth’s regard. He caught Moon’s gaze, making it clear he was speaking only to him, and said, “I’m Flint, first consort to Amaranth. Will you come to our hall?”

Streak, standing nearest to Moon, actually put a hand on his arm as if to stop him. Moon pulled away, baring his teeth in warning when Streak tried to reach for him again. Tempest hissed at Streak in barely suppressed fury, of the “you are embarrassing me” variety. Streak stepped back, confused.

Given a choice between going off with an unfamiliar consort in a strange court, or sitting here with the others and watching Tempest and Amaranth provoke each other, Moon didn’t have to think twice. He stepped around Streak and followed Flint down the nearest passage.

They had only gone up two winding turns before Flint stopped and faced Moon. The passage wasn’t empty; they were surrounded by ten or so worried Arbora. “Are they stealing you?” Flint asked bluntly.

“What?” Moon stared, taken aback. Then he realized what this must look like; consorts never traveled without queens they had either been taken by or were related to. He wished he was being stolen; then he could just kill Tempest and the others in their sleep and go home.

It was tempting for a moment to say “yes,” just to see what would happen. But Moon thought it would cause more trouble for Viridian Sea in the end than it would for Tempest. “No,” he admitted.

It must have sounded reluctant, because Flint lifted his brows skeptically. “Are you sure?”

Unable to muster any convincing sincerity, Moon just said, “It’s a long story.”

Flint accepted that with a nod. He motioned an Arbora over and instructed her to go back and let Amaranth know everything was all right, then he led Moon to the consorts’ hall.

It was comfortable, though not as large and luxurious as Indigo Cloud’s consorts’ quarters. The hall itself was small but cozy and well supplied with cushions, and there was an attached bathing room and five bowers connected to it.

Moon did have to tell the story, but the good thing was that he got to eat right away, whereas Tempest and the others would probably be expected to make polite conversation for a considerably longer time, until Amaranth got over her pique. The food was served in the consorts’ hall and Moon ate with Flint and three other consorts, one belonging to a sister queen and two untaken, the youngest looking as if he was just out of fledglinghood. There was tea, fruit, bread, and haunches of raw grasseater. While devouring freshly killed prey in the forest had its attractions, this was much more restful. Moon told them the truth, though he didn’t emphasize how long he had been alone in the east, leaving them to draw their own conclusions about when Indigo Cloud had found him.

He expected them to ask about that, but instead Flint said, hesitantly, “Your queen let you go?”

It was unexpectedly hard to answer. It took Moon a surprisingly long time to get the “yes” out. Flint and the sister queen’s consort exchanged a look; the two younger consorts stared at Moon with wide-eyed sympathy.

He had to turn away, the tightness in his throat making it suddenly hard to get a whole breath. The hostility and contempt from Tempest and her warriors had been easy to take; the concern of these people almost undid him.

* * *

Moon had been offered a spot in one of the hanging beds, but took the furs next to the hearth in the hall instead. After a while, the second youngest consort came down and joined him, easing up against his back, and placing a gentle and tentative bite on Moon’s shoulder. Moon had been among Raksura long enough to know this was an offer of sex. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t chase the other consort away, either. He liked the company but had decided never to have sex again; it was too hard on the emotions.

After a hopeful pause, the other consort nuzzled Moon’s shoulder and settled down to sleep. A little later, the youngest one, apparently feeling left out, came down and insinuated himself between Moon and the hearth, cuddling against his chest. He still smelled enough like a fledgling to make Moon’s heart twist. He didn’t think he would be able to fall asleep, but he did, and slept better than he had since leaving Indigo Cloud.

* * *

They spent three days in Viridian Sea, waiting for the mentors to judge Prize ready to fly again. Moon spent the time with the consorts, going out to fly around the outside of the colony with them, exploring the hanging gardens inside their smaller but still intricate mountain-thorn. He heard the history of their amicable split with their mother court, and how they had reclaimed this old colony, once just a hunting outpost. It turned out that they had a line-grandfather too, but he spent most of his time at their old colony, and they seldom saw him. Some Arbora came up to join them in the afternoons and evenings, to tell stories and read aloud. It made Moon reconsider his decision not to live at Opal Night, if the worse came to worst. If the consorts there were this friendly, it wouldn’t be so bad.

If worse didn’t come to worst and Jade had left when she said she would, she would be two days ahead of them by now.

The one thing he hadn’t expected to do was to miss Indigo Cloud so much. He had been leaving people all his life, to the point where all the turns seemed like an uninterrupted progression of departures, and there had been people he had missed terribly. But this was a never-ending ache in his chest, and every thought of Jade, Stone, Chime, Balm, the fledglings, Heart, Bell, Merit, Rill, Bark, Bone, Blossom, the other Arbora, was an active pain. You’ll get over it, he told himself. You always get over it.

But somehow, this time was different.

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day at Viridian Sea, Moon reluctantly left the consorts to join Tempest and her warriors. Tempest acknowledged his existence with a nod and an opaque expression; the warriors looked grumpy. He suspected their accommodations hadn’t been nearly as comfortable as his. Before Moon had left the consorts’ hall, Flint had told him not to worry, that everything would surely be all right. He had said it with the unconvinced air of someone who knew it wasn’t true but had no intention of saying what he really thought, but Moon appreciated it anyway.

They set out again, flying to the west.

* * *

It rained every day, lightly enough to fly through but still making for miserable nights. As they traveled, the forest gradually changed, the mountain-trees growing further apart and the ground between becoming increasingly studded with rocky outcrops. The outcrops grew gradually taller, until they formed pillars reaching up to the height of the taller platforms of the suspended forest. The pillars were sculpted by the wind and rain into slim spirals, the rock dark gray but shot through with veins of silver that caught the light and threw back rainbow reflections.

Tempest had grudgingly admitted that she had never been this far west before, and was now navigating solely by a map that Ice had shown her. The warriors, having never seen country like this, grew uneasy. Moon, with nothing better to do and his own nerves eating away at him, took to dropping hints about various horrible Raksura-eating creatures he had encountered under similar circumstances. Some of the stories were actually true.

Everywhere they stopped, Moon searched unobtrusively for signs that Jade was ahead of them somewhere, but found none, and the rain obscured any scent that might have been left behind. They did find signs of a camp on one of the platforms where they landed to rest, but it was months old. Gust nudged the remains of the fire pit with his foot claws, asking hopefully, “We must be close? One or two more days?”

They had to be close to the edge of the Reaches. For the past day or so, the mountain-trees had been further apart and the platforms mostly bare of anything but grass. The forest floor seemed to have more rock pillars than greenery, as if the mountain-trees had been slowly encroaching on some stony expanse, and hadn’t had time yet to finish the job. “We’ve made good time,” Tempest admitted. “We might get there late tomorrow.”

Moon didn’t look for opportunities to terrorize the warriors that night; he was dreading their arrival while being so impatient for it he couldn’t think straight.

But on the next day, thunder rumbled all through the morning, threatening to slow their progress. Heavy rain started in the late afternoon.

After they had fought it for a while, Tempest landed on a branch, sheltered only by the mountain-tree’s canopy high above. She raised her voice to be heard over the rush of rain, saying, “I think we’re almost there. We can either spend time searching for shelter, or try to make the colony.”

Beacon glanced around at the warriors, gauging their stamina rather than taking their opinion. Moon, a much stronger flyer, was tired from fighting the wind, so they had to be feeling the strain. They stood with their spines drooping, dripping, and probably miserable, but none of them looked ready to drop from exhaustion. Beacon said, “I think we’d rather sleep dry tonight.”

Dart and one or two of the others nodded agreement. Tempest cocked her head at Moon. He shrugged. On his own, he would have stopped and found a place to hide and wait out the thunder, but he wasn’t going to show that weakness in front of them.

So they flew on through the rain. Moon had hoped that they could out-fly the storm, but it seemed to cover half the Reaches, pounding down as the afternoon stretched toward evening and the gray light grew more dim.

Moon was beginning to doubt the accuracy of Tempest’s ability to estimate distance. Then thunder crashed and lightning washed the sky in white. Moon flinched so hard he lost control of his wings, and the wind spun him down and sideways. Copper scales flashed in his peripheral vision, right before one of the warriors slammed into him.

Instinct took over and Moon pulled his wings up to prevent a collision that could have broken bones. He grabbed wildly, caught the flailing warrior by the collar flange and yelled, “Stop flapping, idiot!”

The warrior snapped in his wings in reflex and clung to Moon’s arms. It was Gust, dazed and frightened but sensible enough to go limp and let Moon help him.

With a couple of hard flaps Moon righted them, his head pounding from the crash of thunder that still reverberated in his bones. Shaking the rain out of his eyes, he looked for the others and saw they were flapping hard to catch the wind again, with Tempest banking back toward them. She saw Moon had Gust and motioned him toward the branches of the nearest mountain-tree.

Carrying Gust, Moon followed her in and landed on the broad branch a few paces down from the other shaken warriors. He set Gust on his feet and shouted over the dying rumble of thunder, “We have to stop!”

Tempest stepped close, taking Gust’s arm and peering into his face to make sure he was all right. Satisfied, she pointed to the south with one wing tip. The rain nearly drowning her voice, she said, “The colony is just down there!”

Startled, Moon turned to look. At the mouth of the valley, dark against the gray sky, huge stone pillars stretched up from a rocky ridge that formed a giant ring, much of it overgrown with vines and smaller trees. It enclosed a huge mountain-tree, but it was a hideously deformed one. Some past cataclysm had split the enormous structure in two, so half of the trunk leaned into the ridge, the malformed canopy reaching for the sky but at a steep angle, creating twisted branches and huge gaps. The other half of the trunk still stood, but the bare branches jutting from it showed it was long dead.

With all that to take in, it took Moon a moment to realize what else was wrong: there were no lights visible in either of the two trees. No steady white-gold glow from enspelled shells or stones or flowers, no warm glints of firelight. He said, “Are you sure they’re alive?”

He hadn’t meant it to sound facetious, but Tempest apparently took it that way. She snapped her spines at him and leapt off the branch. The warriors, caught by surprise and still recovering, followed in a belated rush. Moon took a deep breath and dove after them.

As they drew closer, Moon still saw no signs of life, though the heavy rain made it hard to make out details. The dying gray light threw the surrounding ridges of rock into deep shadow, but as they flew over the stony barrier, all the vegetation he could see was wild and untended, the same heavy green tangle of vines and moss and saplings that covered the forest floor. Inside the bowl of rock, the wind formed tricky currents and the ground was covered by a mass of giant mountain-tree roots, groves of small trees, and tumbled piles of rock. The slanting trunk of the living half of the tree still showed no hint of occupation. No lights, no movement. The platforms cradled in the branches were overgrown and slumping under the weight of wild vegetation. Moon hoped Tempest knew where she was going; the bowl was the size of a small valley and there was no sign of sentries, no indication of where the landing platform for visitors might be. It didn’t look like a place that wanted visitors.

Then Tempest spiraled down toward the lower half of the slanting trunk, and banked sideways. Following her lead, Moon saw it too: where the bulk of the bole rested against the rock, two small steady lights shone against a dark opening. There really is a court here, he thought.

They dropped down toward the platform. The tree had grown into and partially through the ridge, and the two spell-lights revealed a circular stone platform extending out from the trunk where ribs of wood had enclosed chunks of rock. The tree overhung the platform enough that it sheltered them from the worst of the downpour, allowing only a light drizzle to reach them.

It wasn’t until his claws touched down on the slab of stone that the shadows shifted and Moon realized the rock woven through the tree’s bark was carved stone. Gray faces, pieces of arms, shoulders, torsos poked out between the sections of glossy wood. The light on either side of the open doorway blossomed on stones carved into the shapes of lotus flowers. It was impossible to tell if the fragmented statues had been meant to represent Raksura or groundlings. Moon couldn’t see much of the ridge half-buried under the looming trunk, but now he wondered if without all the clinging greenery it would look smooth or terraced; this ancient mountain-tree might have sprouted in the middle of an even older groundling ruin.

They all shook the water off their spines and scales. A faint scrape of claws on rock brought Moon’s attention back to the trunk’s entrance. A door deep inside it had opened and let out a wash of warm light and a slim figure.

Tempest turned her head to hiss at her warriors, reminding them of their manners. They all shifted to groundling, though the wary tension in the way they stood showed none of them were happy about it. Beacon glanced at Moon and motioned impatiently at him, as if he could somehow miss the fact that he was supposed to shift too. He hissed under his breath, gritted his teeth, and let his winged form slip away, the water left on his scales transferring to his clothes.

The warrior who stepped out of Opal Night’s doorway was slim and strong, dark hair pulled back from her face, the light catching glints in her dark bronze skin. Her clothes were ordinary, a shirt belted over loose pants, the colors in faded shades of red. Her expression was studiously neutral. She said, “I am Rise, of Opal Night.”

Beacon stepped forward to Tempest’s side. She said, “I’m Beacon, of Emerald Twilight. Our sister queen greets you, and brings the consort from Indigo Cloud.”

Rise tensed almost imperceptibly, and her gaze went to the warriors behind Tempest and Beacon, dismissed them, then to Moon. He felt a tickle of unease travel down his spine. It was generally hard to tell a young consort’s groundling form from a warrior’s, and Moon, dressed in somewhat worn clothes and not wearing any jewelry, had nothing to set him apart. But somehow Rise had known immediately he was the consort.

He had been expecting indifference, or perhaps just hoping for it. In a few heartbeats he was going to have to walk through that door into a court who had gone to some trouble to get him here, and he had no idea why.

Rise said, “We hadn’t expected you would arrive so soon.” She sounded more disconcerted than pleased by it. After a moment she added, “Please come inside,” and turned to lead the way through the dark doorway.

She didn’t say anything about Jade, Moon thought. If Jade was already here, surely Opal Night would have expected Tempest to arrive before now. It was hard not to ask; he knew he was supposed to keep quiet until he was acknowledged by a reigning queen or taken away by another consort. The friendly reception at Viridian Sea had made him more reluctant to break rules and act the part of crazy solitary here. He followed Tempest and the others inside, hoping to find a way to get the question in without alienating half the court.

They went through the dark passage and the doorway beyond. The opening was large enough for a line-grandfather to pass through without ducking, and led into an equally large hall, bare except for the intricate carvings on the walls. A few rock-lights on the floor reflected red light off the polished wood, but the upper portion of the room was cloaked in shadow.

Three other warriors waited there, all young males, all with a close enough resemblance to Rise to be her clutchmates. They glanced at the Emerald Twilight warriors, but picked Moon out as easily as Rise had, staring at him with nervous intensity.

The hall was quiet, though Moon sensed movement somewhere above. The air was cool and smelt strongly of wood, earth, and of strange Raksura.

Rise said, “Our daughter queen would greet you, but she’s away from the colony tonight.”

The skin on Tempest’s back rippled as she sternly controlled her spines. It was mildly diverting to watch Beacon struggle not to look offended. This was obviously not a problem Emerald Twilight encountered often. “Perhaps a sister queen is available?”

Rise hesitated, as if reluctant to admit it. “There is a sister queen here—our court has two primary bloodlines—but the situation is…complex.”

Beacon glanced at Tempest, uncertain. As Moon understood it, queens weren’t supposed to speak until they were greeted by another queen. Before the situation became even more awkward, Rise added, “But the reigning queen of our bloodline will greet you.” She looked at Moon again as if she couldn’t help herself, her gaze quickly returning to Beacon. “I know she has been very anxious for your arrival, and to be reunited with the only surviving consort from her last clutch.”

Moon felt as if someone had punched him in the head. He was dimly aware that Tempest and Beacon had exchanged a startled glance, that Tempest looked back at him with a newly assessing eye.

His mother was alive, and the reigning queen of this court.

Chapter Six

Your mother is alive, Moon thought, just to hear the words again. It was suddenly hard to take a full breath. Moon had thought Opal Night regarded him as just a token in Raksuran court games, a way to take a slap at Emerald Twilight and Indigo Cloud. It was clear that was how Tempest had seen the situation.

Moving by reflex more than conscious effort, Moon followed with the others as Rise led the way to the end of the hall and the high-ceilinged passage beyond it. It curved around and then slanted upward. They walked under balconies and past smaller doorways. He heard faint sounds of movement, voices, the distant rush of water.

Somehow he hadn’t expected this, that anyone here would be closely related to him. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t that.

As a fledgling, lost, alone, and hating every instant of it, he had fantasized about this moment. He had given up on ever having it a long time ago.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to have it now.

These are the people who abandoned you, left Sorrow, Leaf, Bliss, Fern, and Light to die. They didn’t bring you here because they wanted you back, he reminded himself. But his heart pounded in anticipation.

Moon caught a hint of movement ahead, right before he saw a female Arbora standing in a doorway. She could have been one of the Arbora from Indigo Cloud: short, strongly built, with the same dark hair and bronze skin as Rise. She wore a light tunic and pants, and as they passed the doorway Moon saw younger Arbora crowded behind her. As she saw him, her eyes widened, and she turned abruptly to say something to the others with her. The excited whispers were lost as they continued down the passage. Moon couldn’t make out the words.

The walls changed suddenly, with stretches of gray stone woven in between lengths of wood. They had to be passing into the section of the trunk that had grown into the stony ridge. Then one wall opened out to a dark space, what Moon first thought was a view of the outside. Then Tempest stopped, her spines twitching in surprise.

Rise noticed her reaction, and said, “That’s the central well of the tree.”

As Moon’s eyes adjusted he saw it was a hollowed-out portion of the mountain-tree, slanted where the trunk lay against the ridge of stone. Even in the dim light he could tell the space was enormous. Far larger than Indigo Cloud’s central well, it extended much further through the bulk of the tree. The walls of dark wood were ringed with balconies, all shrouded in green vines. From the upper section, high above their heads, a waterfall tumbled straight down to a pool far below. There must be openings to the outside somewhere above, because a light mist of rain was falling.

And through the obscuring greenery, lights glowed in the dimness, randomly speckling the whole interior of the tree. This court is huge, Moon thought. He could catch faint scents in the cool damp air, flowers and some smoky incense, and many strange Raksura. Suddenly the bleak appearance of the outside of the mountain-tree, the overgrown and deserted platforms, made sense. It’s deliberate, for defense. No one passing by would have any idea a Raksuran court lived here, let alone such a large one.

Tempest exchanged a look with Beacon. Turning back to Rise, Beacon said, “It’s a very fine colony; the rumors of the size of your court were not exaggerated.”

Rise said, with a trace of hardness in her voice, “We have had much to overcome in the past turns, and our queens felt the need for the strength of numbers.”

Beacon frowned, puzzled. “Of course.”

They continued on. Not far ahead the passage opened into a large room shaped like an overturned bowl. Carvings of warriors in flight climbed the curving walls, touched with the gleam of inset gems. The image in the center of the roof was a queen, her wings and tail curled into a circle. Two other passages curved away from it, wide archways framed by the downswept wings of two carved consorts.

The room below the magnificent carving was empty, though there were cushions laid out around the raised stone bowl of the hearth. It didn’t look like anyone else had been greeted here recently, but then Jade might have arrived more than a day ago.

Rise gestured for them to sit as the warriors with her brought out a kettle and a tea set. Moon sank down onto a cushion in the back, behind Tempest and Beacon, with the other Emerald Twilight warriors ranged around. His clothes were damp and the room was cold, as if the warming stones had only been hurriedly dumped into the hearth. His throat was dry and he was glad he wouldn’t have to speak until the queens finished greeting each other.

He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say.

Rise helped her three warriors hand out pottery cups of tea, then all four withdrew politely to the other side of the room.

Beacon leaned over to Tempest and whispered, “Well, that explains why a court this important was so anxious to get him back.” She jerked her head to indicate Moon, in case there was any doubt. “Do you think Indigo Cloud knew all along?”

Tempest flicked a spine in dismissal. “If they had, they would have taken advantage of it before this.”

Moon turned the warm cup around, looking down into the delicate yellow tea. He just wished they would get on with it already.

The other warriors leaned over to listen to Tempest and Beacon, and Streak eased forward a little to join the conversation. “If she hasn’t had a clutch since he was born, maybe there’s a problem in their bloodline, and they need him for breeding?”

Moon rubbed his eyes, conquering the impulse to shift and bite Streak’s throat out. It wasn’t a bad theory; Indigo Cloud had had problems with disease in the turns when they had been under Fell influence, which had caused the court to dwindle to its current size. But it meant nothing good for Moon. It keeps coming back to that. If he wasn’t infertile, he could help them. But if he wasn’t infertile, Indigo Cloud would want him back. If he was infertile, no court would want him.

“But this is such a big court,” Prize added. “Even if there’s been disease—”

Scaled wings rustled from the doorway opposite them. Everyone glanced around, startled. Rise pushed hurriedly to her feet and went into the passage to talk to whoever stood there. Moon set the cup down before he could spill it. His heart pounded, probably loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

But Rise returned alone, her expression tense with agitation. “I’m sorry,” she said, “the queen can’t greet you tonight.”

Tempest was so floored her spines didn’t even twitch. She said, “Is there some problem? Did we cause offense?”

It was a violation of the greeting customs, but Rise replied directly to her. “No, not that. It’s just…” It was clear Rise didn’t know what it was. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you to the guest quarters immediately.”

Tempest hesitated, then got to her feet, gesturing for the others to follow. Moon stood, torn between disappointment and relief at postponing the confrontation.

Rise led them away, down another passage that wound through several complicated turns. They passed near a section of living quarters, and Arbora and warriors peeked curiously at them from doorways and balconies. Then they climbed a set of winding stone stairs.

At the top, Rise went through a doorway to a large room that was partly made of stone, partly of dark wood. The ceiling was overgrown with heavy roots, bigger around than barrels, and entwined with vines. More big roots formed pillars, as if supporting the low arches of the ceiling. Instead of hanging bower beds, there were square stone benches scattered about, padded with furs and blankets. The floor was wood patched with stone, with a round hearth standing almost knee-high instead of a basin.

Rise said, “These are the guest quarters. The passage there leads to a bathing room. I hope you will be comfortable.”

Tempest nodded graciously. “I’m sure we will.”

Someone had obviously hurried ahead to ready the rooms; there were warming stones in the hearth and some of the carved stone knobs standing out from the walls had been spelled for light. Moon crossed the room to see it extended far enough to have broad windows opening into the dark space of the central well. There was no sign of any other current or previous occupants, and it didn’t smell like anyone he knew, but then a colony this big must have more than one set of rooms for guests.

Rise hesitated, as if there was more she wanted to say but didn’t quite dare, but then she ducked her head. “I’ll tell the reigning queen you’re settled here.”

Moon decided to just ask; the greeting ritual had all gone to piss anyway, and they couldn’t blame him for that. “Rise, are there any other visitors? A group from Indigo Cloud was coming here.”

Rise stared at him, taken aback, but then said, “No, consort, I’m sorry. No one else has come.”

Moon’s throat went tight. He had really been expecting her to say Jade was here, or had been here and been turned away, told to come back later, something.

Confused, Rise added, “But the weather has been terrible for flying for the past few days. If they were coming here they may have been delayed.”

“I’m sure that’s the case,” Tempest said. Her voice was smooth but her spines were quivering in anger. “Thank you.”

Rise nodded, threw another worried look at Moon, and made her way out.

Beacon turned accusingly to Moon. “You spoke to her. Don’t you know—”

“Everybody spoke to her,” he said, and it came out as a growl.

Beacon stepped back, and all the other warriors twitched and stared at him warily. Tempest, in the middle of drawing a breath to speak, stopped and settled her spines. After a moment, she said, “I doubt it will matter. If their queens won’t greet visitors, they can hardly accuse us of rudeness.”

Moon knew he had given away much more than he had meant to. Furious at himself, at Beacon, Tempest, everyone and everything, he went to the front of the room near the hearth and tossed his pack down on the bench that was closest to the side wall. His thoughts were bouncing from Jade lied to me to something happened on the way here and Jade’s dead, with Chime and Balm and whoever else was with her to something happened at the colony before they left and they’re all dead.

An uneasy silence settled over the room.

After a long moment, Beacon cleared her throat and said quietly to Tempest, “So this court really has two dominant bloodlines.”

“I had heard that rumor,” Tempest said. “But I didn’t put much credit in it before now.”

Prize looked at Moon. “If he’s really the only consort from the reigning queen’s last clutch, why didn’t she come out?”

Then Dart said, “She saw him.”

Gust snorted a laugh, as if it was a joke, and Beacon gave him a weary look.

Dart protested, “It’s true. The queen started to come in, saw him, and left.”

The others went quiet. Moon flushed cold, staring at Dart. He said, “You’re lying.”

Dart twitched uneasily, but said, “No. I saw her. She was dark green, that’s all I could tell. She looked right at you.”

Moon turned away and felt every nerve in his body pull as tight as wire.

No one said anything. Tempest stirred uneasily, and said, “Dart, that’s enough.”

In the quiet, Moon heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He hoped for an instant it was Jade, arriving late. Then Rise and several Arbora stepped into the room.

The Arbora carried platters of raw meat and baskets of fruit and bread. The warriors perked up, immediately interested.

The Arbora set the food down near the hearth and one put a kettle on the warming stones, then most withdrew. Rise nodded politely to Tempest and Beacon. There were three Arbora behind her, an older female who stood patiently waiting, and two younger males who craned their necks to see around Rise. They were wearing robes, red-brown and silver gray, probably hastily thrown on over other clothes, if Indigo Cloud’s reaction to unexpected visitors was anything to judge by. One of the younger Arbora spotted Moon and nudged the other with an elbow. They both stared until the older woman glanced at them and hissed. Abashed, both retreated into the passage.

Speaking directly to Tempest again, Rise said, “The reigning queen of our bloodline thought that the consort might be more comfortable in a bower with more privacy.”

Now everyone turned to stare at him. Right, Moon thought, bitterly amused. He could choose between the hospitality of a queen who had been disgusted at the sight of him or Tempest and her noisy, ignorant warriors. He said, “No.”

Tempest turned back to Rise and said, “He thanks the reigning queen for her kind offer, but declines to accept it.”

Rise frowned. The Arbora behind her exchanged looks of consternation. Rise pressed her lips together, obviously struggling with a reply, then finally said, “I see. I will give the queen his answer.”

Rise left and the last three Arbora trailed reluctantly after her. Moon heard them break out into a tense whispered conversation further down the hall, but he couldn’t make out the words. Everyone just stood around uneasily for a moment, then Tempest lowered her spines in resignation. “We’ve food and a dry place to sleep, and hopefully there’s hot water in the bathing room; take advantage of it. We won’t be staying here long if I can avoid it.”

She wasn’t talking to Moon. He went to the bench he had picked out, and lay down on it with his pack under his head and his back to the others. He tried to ignore their quiet talk as they ate, then explored the bathing room and settled for the night. The blankets were soft and smelled of fresh greenery, as if they had been recently aired.

It was a long way here from Indigo Cloud, and there were so many ways for even a queen as used to travel as Jade to get hurt, to get killed. And Jade didn’t know the Reaches anywhere near as well as Tempest, she wouldn’t know where the small obscure courts like Viridian Sea were, wouldn’t know where to go for help and shelter. If she had ever left Indigo Cloud at all.

Torn between despair and fear, if Moon slept at all, it was by accident. He heard every sound the warriors made, every breath, every faint noise from the corridor. At one point he came out of a light doze convinced that someone—something—was out in the passage, standing still and listening. Moon didn’t move, barely breathed, for a long time, stretching every sense. Finally he turned his head toward the doorway, but nothing stood there and no shadow fell across the floor. After a while he heard what might have been a footfall, and gradually the sensation of being watched faded.

It was a relief when he finally felt the sun lift into dawn. He got up and took advantage of the bathing room while Tempest and the warriors were still stirring. It was big enough for three or four times their number, with small pools fed by streams of water channeled down the stone walls, drapes of vines and the pillar-size roots winding between them. Moon picked a pool that had warming stones in it and took his first real bath since they had left Viridian Sea, using a soap that smelled faintly of unfamiliar flowers. He changed into the spare clothes he had brought, which had managed to stay mostly dry in his pack, and washed the others.

When he went back to the main room, the Arbora who had come to the door with Rise had returned, bringing tea and plates of fruit and flatbread. They didn’t stare at Moon the way they had last night, but he caught a few sideways looks from the younger ones.

“Is the daughter queen returned yet?” Beacon asked the older female, who was putting a kettle onto the warming stones of the hearth.

“She should be back sometime today,” the Arbora said, getting to her feet. “We thought she would come last night, but she must have decided not to fly in the storm.” She threw a quick opaque glance at Moon. “I know she would want to be here.”

“Did any visitors come last night, after we arrived?” The question was out before Moon realized he was going to ask it.

The Arbora blinked, surprised, but said readily, “No, no one’s come except you.”

Moon looked away. He hadn’t really expected a different answer.

Tempest sat on one of the benches, her tail folded neatly around her feet, watching them. She had slept in her Arbora form, but had put on her winged form again for the visitors. She said, “I want to see one of the queens, it doesn’t matter which.”

Her tone had an edge to it, and the Arbora woman looked up, startled. The younger Arbora, waiting beside the door, twitched uneasily, the silk of their robes whispering. Beacon folded her arms and seemed unmoved, but the other warriors radiated discomfort.

Tempest was treading a fine line, risking rudeness to the Arbora and an insult to Opal Night. She kept her spines down, but didn’t soften her voice. She said, “We have long days of travel to return to our court, and I’m anxious to discharge this burden. Will you take that message to your queen, whichever one is most concerned?”

This burden, Moon thought, his mouth twisting sardonically. He tried not to feel rejected by the comment. It wasn’t as if he was fond of Tempest.

The Arbora got to her feet. Moon judged her age as well into maturity, but not near the point where the dark bronze sheen of her skin would begin to gray. Her dark hair was straight and her face round, her features pleasant. She looked Tempest right in the eye and said, “My name is Russet, teacher of Opal Night. I’ll tell our queen what you’ve said, and how you speak of the consort you’re supposedly protecting.”

Moon blinked, caught off guard. Even Tempest looked more surprised than offended.

Arbora had a higher status within the court than warriors, but seeing one actually confront a queen was rare.

Beacon and the other warriors looked equally taken aback. Tempest said, slowly, incredulously, as if she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation, “I meant no disrespect toward the consort.”

Russet’s eyes narrowed. Obviously unconvinced, she inclined her head stiffly to Tempest and walked out, the younger Arbora in the doorway scattering before her.

Tempest sighed, and lowered her brows to give Moon a look that suggested that this was clearly his fault. Moon hissed at her and headed for the back of the main chamber. As he passed Dart, he heard the warrior mutter to Gust, “They’re not going to invite us to eat with them, are they?”

Moon went to stand in front of the opening into the central well. The huge space was lit from high above, the shafts of morning light making the green drapes of vine darker and glinting off the mist from the waterfall. He could see garden terraces a few hundred paces below this level, all heavily planted with bushes, small trees, vines, berry brambles, and the green leafy plants that usually meant belowground root vegetables. The reservoir that caught the waterfall runoff was lined with flat gray stones. Several Arbora walked along it, some of them pausing to pull up basket traps that might be for fish or crustaceans.

Russet’s reaction had confused him. But then Russet was just one Arbora, doing what Arbora did best and reminding the Aeriat to follow their own rules.

Vines rustled as Tempest moved up behind him. Moon felt the back of his neck itch with her proximity, but he didn’t shift. She said, “If they don’t send someone to greet me before the sun reaches noon, we’re leaving.”

Moon’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t considered this, that Opal Night’s failure to greet Tempest might negate the whole arrangement. If Tempest took him back to Indigo Cloud, they couldn’t refuse to accept him, could they? If they weren’t all dead, if Jade hadn’t run into disaster on her way here. He said, carefully keeping his voice neutral, “‘We?’”

“Not you,” she said, her voice dry. “If Indigo Cloud refuses to take you back, I’m not getting stuck with you.”

Moon’s whole body went tight, as if somebody had punched him in the heart. Jade’s not coming. Tempest knows she’s not coming.

He flung himself away from the wall, shoved past Tempest, and slammed across the room to the bench where he had left his pack. He didn’t realize he had shifted until he reached for the worn leather and saw the black scales and fully extended claws.

He started for the door and Tempest came from overhead, bounced off a root pillar and landed in front of him. She demanded, “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” You would think it was obvious.

“What? You can’t—” She hissed in disbelief, then said, “Moon, that was a joke.”

Moon lashed his tail, frustrated, furious. It struck him then, the difference between what she had said and what he had somehow heard. But he was too angry for that to make much of a difference. “Get out of my way.”

She growled in exasperation. “You can’t go back to Indigo Cloud! They can’t take you in unless Opal Night formally gives you up—”

“I know that!” He meant to say the words but they came out as a snarl of rage so loud the watching warriors flinched. He hissed in a breath, and forced his voice down to the normal range. “Get out of my way.”

Behind him, stupid Dart said, “He wouldn’t really go solitary—”

“He is a solitary, idiot,” Streak told him. “That’s why this queen doesn’t want him.”

Beacon hissed at them. “Shut up.”

Tempest watched him intently. She knew he was serious now. She thought he was crazy, but she knew he meant every word. She said, “You know I have to stop you.”

Moon could feel her trying to force him to shift to groundling, but that was much harder to do when he was already in this form. Pearl hadn’t been able to make him shift, and Tempest wasn’t nearly so strong. He showed his front row of fangs. “So stop me.”

She grimaced in disbelief. “You won’t fight a queen.”

There was an idea. Fighting to the death with Tempest would solve all his problems. He sneered, “That’s what your dead sister thought.”

Tempest hit him in pure reflex, a backhanded blow that rocked Moon back even though he had been prepared for it. He didn’t give her a chance to think twice. He dropped to grab the kettle from the hearth and flung it into her face. She ducked, the ceramic shattered against the stone doorframe, and she charged him. He fell back, used her own momentum to flip her over his head. She tumbled but rolled to her feet, braced to lunge at him.

The ear-shattering roar from the corridor startled Tempest into bouncing backward and sent Moon leaping up to sink his claws into the wall. The scattered warriors all shifted to groundling and huddled in place.

The consort who stepped into the room was in his winged form, a full head taller than Moon and broader in the shoulders and chest. His spines were flared, his wings partially extended to brush both sides of the wide doorway.

In a level voice that still managed to convey boiling rage, he said, “What is this?”

Uh oh, Moon thought, still breathing hard from the aborted fight.

Moving slowly and carefully, Tempest straightened up and dropped her spines. “It was a misunderstanding.” The consort regarded her for what felt like far too many heartbeats. It seemed evident that he considered that explanation inadequate. Moon wasn’t sure how bad it was for a visiting queen to be caught fighting a consort, especially a consort who didn’t belong to her. From everyone’s reaction, he was guessing it was fairly serious. Tempest added, belatedly, “I thank you for your intervention.”

The consort didn’t react, not with so much as a flick of a spine. After a very long, silent moment, he cocked his head toward Moon. “Get down from there.”

Moon thought about it, but decided he didn’t have much of a choice. After this, Tempest was unlikely to let him provoke her enough to kill him. He dropped to the floor.

He landed two paces away from the consort, who stared down at him. The room was so silent it didn’t sound as if anyone was breathing. Moon realized what the consort was waiting for, and thought, Why not? He had no reason to protect himself and being knocked unconscious would be a relief. He shifted to groundling.

The blood pounding in his temples was suddenly louder, and the room swayed. Moon took a deep breath and stayed on his feet. The cheekbone where Tempest’s first blow had landed was numb and he could feel the skin around his eye swelling. Tempest made a sound, a faint intake of breath; possibly she hadn’t realized how hard she had hit him.

The consort twitched a spine, the only hint of agitation he had shown so far. His gaze moved over Moon from head to toe. Betraying nothing, he said, “Get your things.”

Well, you got your wish, Moon thought sourly, and looked around for his pack. He was getting thrown out. Leaning over to pick up the fallen pack made him feel less faint but more nauseous. He stumbled a little as he straightened up.

The consort still stared at him. “That’s all you brought?” He turned to Tempest.

Moon didn’t understand what he meant, but she did. She said, stiffly, “He was given the opportunity to bring his belongings. We didn’t—”

“This is all I had to bring,” Moon interrupted. “I came there with nothing. Everything I had were gifts because I was the consort. I’m not their consort anymore.” Sanity was returning like a wash of freezing water. It occurred to him that he had been doing that thing again, pretending not to feel, or pretending the feelings were about something else. Except that he seemed to have lost the knack for it, and instead of remaining safely buried it had all exploded out. He didn’t want to be dead, and he hadn’t wanted Tempest to kill him. But in that moment he had been willing to do anything to stop feeling, to change what was happening, fleeing the colony and becoming a solitary, fighting to the death with a queen, anything. He added, “It wasn’t Tempest’s fault. I made her fight me.”

“No, I—” Tempest began, then stopped, her spines flicking in agitation. Moon realized he had given her an out, that if he took responsibility for the fight, then Opal Night couldn’t blame Emerald Twilight.

The consort hissed, grabbed Moon’s wrist and pulled him out of the room. Out in the passage, several Arbora and warriors waited, listening intently, frozen in consternation. As the consort appeared, they hurriedly cleared a path, some of them climbing right up the walls. The only one Moon recognized was Russet. As they passed her, the consort snapped, “Send for Lithe.”

The consort took the first turn up a ramp that wound deeper into the tree. Moon had assumed he was being thrown out of the court, but this wasn’t the way to the colony’s main entrance. He planted his feet and wrenched his wrist out of the consort’s grip, scales rasping against his groundling skin. The consort turned back, spines lifting. Moon said, “Where are we going?”

The consort lashed his tail impatiently. “To the consorts’ bowers.” He tilted his head. “Did you want to stay with them?”

“No.”

“Then come on.”

The consort took more turns, finally passing through a doorway onto a bridge that crossed one small curve of the central well. It was almost under the spray of the waterfall, and a cool damp updraft ruffled Moon’s hair. The bridge went under a heavy arbor of vines and through the inner wall of the tree, back into a passage heavily carved with figures of Aeriat and Arbora.

The passage ended in a big round room, all carved wood, with a beaten metal hearth bowl in the center. There were low benches here too, curved ones, covered with gray furs and cushions in dark fabrics. The consort pushed Moon down on the nearest. “Sit there.”

Moon sat. His head was starting to clear; the brisk walk and the cool mist from the waterfall had helped.

The consort paced away, spines flicking and his tail lashing impatiently, then he shifted to groundling. He was bigger than Moon in this form too, with a heavier build than Aeriat usually had. His skin was a lighter gold-bronze, and he had red-brown hair. His face was more square and blunt than Moon’s, or any other consort he had seen before. He was still handsome, but he looked like he was built for fighting rather than breeding. He was dressed in dark brown and leather, a shirt that left his arms bare to show off chased gold armbands. His expression was serious, not angry. Moon asked, “So you aren’t throwing me out of the colony?”

“What?” The consort glanced at him as if that was the craziest thing he had heard yet. “Of course not.”

A young Arbora in groundling form rushed in, stumbled to a halt as she saw them. She had dark copper skin and dark hair cut into a fluffy halo around her face, and a slim strong build under the faded blue shirt and pants she wore. She had a satchel slung over one shoulder and from the dirt smudges, looked like she had been called in from gardening.

Brow furrowed with concern, she looked from Moon to the consort. “Yes?”

“Take care of him,” the consort said, and walked out.

Moon stared after him. He called out, “If I ask nicely, can I be thrown out of the colony?”

The Arbora stepped closer, peering at Moon. “Russet said the foreign queen hit you in the face, but I didn’t believe her. I see I was wrong.”

The side of Moon’s face was still numb but he could feel the skin tightening with incipient swelling. “Who are you? Who was he?”

“Oh, I’m Lithe, a mentor. He was Umber, the consort of Onyx, the sister queen.” Lithe slipped the satchel off her shoulder and knelt. She sorted through it and dumped out some cloth packets of herbs. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms and an array of bracelets, beads, and bright metal and polished stones. Ducking her head so her hair shielded her face, she added, “Ah…it was also suggested that I ask you if you had been…mistreated?”

“Not lately.” Looking past her, Moon saw they had an audience. Other Arbora gathered in the doorway from the passage, and more in a smaller doorway across the room. They were all dressed for outdoor work and carried a strong scent of loam. Realizing Moon was watching them, they retreated with some confusion, but from the rustling and whispers coming from the passage, they hadn’t gone far.

Lithe looked up at him and smiled uncertainly, clearly not sure how to take his answer. “That’s…good.” She got up to reach for a kettle. “How long were you with Indigo Cloud? Emerald Twilight told us a story about you being alone—”

“I was alone, until six months ago when Indigo Cloud’s line-grandfather found me,” Moon said. He had a question of his own. “Why did Opal Night abandon me, a female warrior, and four baby Arbora to die in the forests of the Abascene peninsula?”

“What?” Lithe almost dropped the kettle. There was a chorus of shocked gasps from the passage.

After a long moment, Lithe said, “What happened to the others?”

“They were eaten by Tath,” Moon said, not bothering to soften it, not saying “they died” or “they were killed” or any of the other words that were easier to hear but less true.

Silence stretched. Lithe set the kettle on the warming stones and looked down at it, biting her lip. “I don’t know what happened. I was born after the attack.” She cleared her throat. “Who were they? The Arbora, the warrior?”

“Leaf, Light, Bliss, and Fern. The warrior was called Sorrow.”

The Arbora just outside the room whispered to each other. Nobody seemed to have an answer. This was about what Moon had expected. And he didn’t see much point in staying here any longer. He pushed to his feet. “I’m leaving.” He could at least retrace the route between here and Indigo Cloud, looking for signs of Jade and the others.

Lithe glanced up, startled. “You can’t leave! The daughter queen wants to see you. She’s your clutchmate.”

“Clutchmate?” Moon repeated. For a moment the word didn’t make sense. “They said…Rise said I was the only survivor of the queen’s last clutch.”

“The only consort,” Lithe explained. “It was a mixed royal clutch, three consorts and two queens. One of the queens survived.” She hesitated. “Her name is Celadon. Your birthqueen is called Malachite.”

Moon shook his head, telling himself it didn’t change anything.

Lithe took that for confusion, and explained, “Malachite is the reigning queen. Onyx is the sister queen, but she’s descended from the bloodline that remained here when the court split up and half of it went to the east, generations ago.” Lithe handed Moon a cloth pad filled with herbs. Automatically he pressed it against his eye and felt the swelling start to ease immediately. Mentors augmented their healing simples with magic; the more powerful the mentor, the quicker the healing. Lithe must be very strong. “When the eastern branch of the court returned, forty turns or so ago, Malachite led them back here.” Lithe hesitated. “The consort who fathered you was killed by the Fell. They attacked the eastern colony and destroyed it.”

Moon took a deep breath, the scent of the sweet herbs tingling in his throat. “I knew it was the Fell.”

“Do you remember it?” Lithe asked, taking a seat on the fur mat near the hearth. The other Arbora had crept back into the doorways.

“No.” Sometimes Moon had thought there might be a buried memory, but he wasn’t sure if it was really there or just a construction of his imagination, made up of images of other places he had seen the Fell destroy. “I just…thought it was likely.”

“Before Indigo Cloud, you were really alone all that time? You were living as a solitary?”

“Yes.” Moon looked up, baring his teeth. “I didn’t know what a solitary was, I hadn’t seen another Raksura since the others were killed, I didn’t even know we were called Raksura—”

Lithe waved her hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it! We just—We weren’t sure how much of what Emerald Twilight told us was true. They said the queen of Indigo Cloud took you without knowing your bloodline because there were no other consorts in the court, and none from other courts who would consent.”

Moon wished yet again that Emerald Twilight had kept its mouth shut. “The sister queen,” he corrected. “The Arbora didn’t want to move the court back to the Reaches without a consort. Then the colony was attacked by Fell, and…then it didn’t matter.”

Lithe was watching him with a troubled expression. “Indigo Cloud took advantage of you.”

“Yes, but—” Moon had always seen it as the other way around, that he had been the one with the potential to take advantage of Indigo Cloud. He had always been aware of that and had tried not to, especially after realizing just how badly he wanted to stay. And it was none of Opal Night’s business. Did they really think they had taken him away from Indigo Cloud for his own good? It was tempting to believe it. But Emerald Twilight didn’t think so. And Zephyr hadn’t understood the reasoning behind it either, and she was from a court uninvolved in the situation and presumably with nothing to lose by expressing an honest opinion. “I wanted to stay.” Moon tossed the herb packet into the pile near Lithe’s satchel. “When Opal Night asked for me, you gave them an excuse to get rid of me.”

There were surprised murmurs from the Arbora in the doorway. Lithe seemed baffled. “But if all they needed was an excuse to get rid of you, why did you want to stay?”

Because it was my place! I never had a place before. It didn’t matter how I got it, it was mine. Moon didn’t want to say that to these people. “Why did Malachite bring me here? What does she want from me?”

“You belong here,” Lithe said it like it was obvious. “When you talk to Malachite—”

“She had a chance to talk to me last night.”

Flustered, Lithe actually glanced at their Arbora audience for support, but they all precipitously retreated into the passage. So everyone knew that Malachite had seen him and changed her mind. He thought Lithe would say something about it, but she just said, “I’m sorry. I’ll take you up to a bower to rest.”

Moon wasn’t tired, but he knew sitting here wasn’t going to get him any answers. Not the kind of answers he wanted, anyway.

The consort’s bowers were above this central room, reached by twisty, narrow stairs that curved up through the tree’s inner walls. As Lithe led him upward, Moon said, “Where are the other consorts?”

“Most of them live in the other set of bowers, for Onyx’s bloodline. These are for the consorts of your bloodline.”

These rooms all felt empty. “So where are they?”

Lithe was a bad liar. She could have said that they were out flying or playing with the fledglings. Instead she said, “Ah…With Celadon.” Forestalling his next question, she added, “She’ll have to tell you herself.”

She turned and took the last few steps up into a bower that had been hastily prepared; a young male Arbora was still there, dumping a bucket of heating stones into the metal hearth. The room was round, the walls carved with flowers and trees, stretching up to a domed roof set with polished blue stones. A curved bed big enough for several people hung about ten paces up one wall, and across from it a wall section was carved out, forming a small balcony with an opening that from the angle must look out on the central well.

“Do you need anything?” Lithe asked him.

I need to not be here, Moon thought. He dropped his pack on the floor. “Like what?”

Lithe hesitated. “Food…clothes?”

“No.” If she wasn’t going to answer his questions, what he mostly wanted was for her to leave.

As if that thought was evident, Lithe’s brow furrowed and she said, “It’ll be all right. You’ll see. We’re glad to have you here.”

Moon didn’t try to look as if he felt anything other than skeptical and bitter. Lithe gave in and left with the other Arbora.

Chapter Seven

Moon waited until the sound of their steps had faded, then explored the bower. Toward the back was a doorway that led to a private bathing room, with a curved hot pool that could be filled from a channel in the wall. With no sign of a previous occupant, the rooms felt as if they had been unused for a long time. He went out to the passage and listened for a moment. He could still hear the faint sounds of conversation and movement from the Arbora, but they all seemed to be down in the consorts’ hall.

Moving quietly, he made a quick survey of the other bowers off these upper passages. He had been given one of the larger rooms, but none of the others were shabby. At first they all seemed unused, with no scent of recent occupation. The hearths were bare, the bedding and furs rolled up and stacked against the walls.

Until he got to the far end of the warren.

There, he found a group of large bowers which all showed signs of occupation. The hearths had warming stones recently renewed by a mentor, and furs, cushions, and baskets of belongings still lay on the floor. In one, a book had been left behind, its tooled leather cover loosely wrapped around the scroll of paper, lying forgotten on a cushion. The occupants had been gone just long enough for the scent to start to fade. Moon put his face down in the bedding, but all he could get was traces of Raksura. They had been gone at least a day.

Or a night. They left last night, because that’s when Rise invited you to leave the guest rooms. The court had meant for him to stay here in these bowers, but hadn’t wanted the other consorts of his bloodline nearby. Because they didn’t trust him? Because they didn’t want the other consorts contaminated by association? Because the other consorts were afraid of the crazy solitary?

The one thing Moon did manage to determine was that there was no other passage exit. To leave this area, he had to go out through the consorts’ hall, where the Arbora were still gathered.

He returned to his bower, and shifted to jump up to the balcony in the wall.

It was furnished as a seating area, with thick woven mats padding the wood and pillows to lean on. The opening looked out at the side of the waterfall, protected from the spray by a heavy trellis of vines, the green leaves veined with purple. The updraft filled the room with fresh cool air, scented of water and damp earth; it would be a good place to sleep. If Moon ever managed to sleep again.

Moon pulled in his disemboweling claws and sat on his heels, looking out on the view. The vines and the angle to the waterfall hid most of the central well; he could see some of the garden terraces and the edge of the reservoir below. The Arbora who had been fishing there had moved on.

His biggest problem, of course, was not the reason he had been brought to this strange court. His biggest problem was that he wasn’t thinking clearly, and the uncertainty about Jade and Indigo Cloud had driven him right out of his mind. He hadn’t been thinking clearly since Tempest and Zephyr had arrived at Indigo Cloud. At least you know that now. But knowing what was wrong with him didn’t cure it.

Even now, nervous energy made his skin itch. He could just leap out the window into the central well, but he wanted to see what would happen if he tried to walk out. He jumped down from the alcove and went down the stairs to the consorts’ hall.

He found it still occupied by several Arbora, who all looked up, startled at his sudden appearance. A few were sewing or making braided cords, and one had a book open on her lap, but this couldn’t be the place where they normally gathered. Russet, the Arbora who had challenged Tempest, sat near the hearth.

Moon ignored them and circled around to head toward the doorway.

Two actually jumped to their feet, and Russet said hurriedly, “Where are you going? I mean, is there something you need? We can get it for you.”

Moon stopped and looked around the room, making it deliberate. Several Arbora avoided meeting his eyes. “Am I a prisoner?”

It was unfair, since they had given him a bower with a window, but they were either too disconcerted to think of that reply or too polite to say it aloud. Some shook their heads, others murmured demurs, and Russet said, “No, of course not!”

Moon walked out, thinking for an instant they would just let him go. Then half of them, including Russet, got up and followed him.

Inwardly seething, Moon started to turn toward the inward-leading corridor.

Russet offered, “There’s a passage out to the floor of the central well. Would you like to see it?”

At least they weren’t trying to insist he stay cooped up. He nodded, and a relieved Russet led the way.

The passage took them to a downward ramp and eventually opened to an archway into the huge space of the well.

Moon walked out onto a broad platform carpeted with thick grasses and tiny purple and blue flowers. Sunlight shafted down from splits in the trunk high overhead, caught as sparkles in the spray from the waterfall. To one side, tall stone-lined steps led up to the rim of the reservoir. Moon went that way and climbed up to walk along the rim. The Arbora didn’t follow, but settled down on the grass platform and resumed their tasks.

The water was clear enough to show that the pool was stocked with shellfish, little green crabs, and big snails. Delicate, glittery insects buzzed around stands of reed, and a viny water plant with big red globes floated just below the surface.

Moon followed the rim around the pool, the smooth stone cool under his feet. There were larger rocks placed around the edge, for sitting and landing, scarred by turns and turns of claws. On the far side he had a good view of the lower part of the hall, which had broader terraces with more gardens. Several Arbora moved along them, weeding or checking on the progress of their plantings. On the platform not far below the lake were fern trees with long broad fronds, the kind that grew nuts that could be ground up to make a spice.

There were people down there too, but not Arbora. They were tall, slim, dressed in dark colors. Seven warriors, all male, sitting or standing at the base of a tree, talking. Watching them, Moon saw the glitter of bright metal. Some of them were wearing bracelets, one a flat pectoral necklace, another had the glint of gold studs around his ears. Warriors didn’t often wear jewelry like that, not when they weren’t dressed up for a special occasion. Those are consorts.

Moon knew just enough to realize it would be rude to shift and dive down there like he was stooping on prey. He took the nearest path off the reservoir’s rim, a set of artfully placed stones leading down. He made it to a curving garden platform just above the trees, only six paces or so above the lower terrace, an easy jump down even in his groundling form.

He had just reached the grassy edge of the terrace when one of the consorts spotted him and alerted the others with a warning hiss. Moon stopped, close enough to see they were all his age or younger. Most matched Umber’s heavier build, red-brown hair, and lighter gold coloring, but three had dark hair and dark bronze skin, and were lean and lanky and sharp-featured. Seeing them all together like this, Moon suddenly understood how other Raksura could tell he wasn’t from one of Indigo Cloud’s bloodlines, could see the faint differences in coloring and build and feature, how a queen like Ice of Emerald Twilight might be able to add up all these slight factors to identify his bloodline.

They all stared back at him, blankly startled, and no one said anything. Deciding it was up to him, Moon took a breath to speak.

Almost as one, they all shifted, the sudden whoosh of displaced air enough to make him stumble backward. Leaping into the air, they were away in moments, and flew down the length of the well toward a broad balcony in the upper side of the trunk.

Moon stood there, stunned. Sick hurt settled over him like a blanket.

He looked up to see it had happened in full view of the Arbora working on the garden terraces above. Now they were all industriously hunched over, studying random plants or their baskets or the ground, whatever was handy, with an embarrassed air that clearly said they had seen everything.

He turned away, climbed slowly back up to the reservoir’s edge, and sat down on one of the stones around the rim. He wasn’t even sure why it hurt so much; it certainly wasn’t the first time he had been rejected by Raksura at first sight. It wasn’t even the first time he had been rejected at first sight in this colony. But they’re related to you, and they have to know it. They had to know the story, too, and that he had never been a solitary by choice.

He sat there a while, watching the stick insects skate across the water, when he heard someone leap up the steps at the far end of the rim.

He looked up to see a green Arbora just climbing onto the stones around the reservoir’s edge. She saw him and shifted to her groundling form. She was about Russet’s age, and like her she had dark bronze skin, but her hair was brown and curly, tied back with a beaded scarf. She was wearing a light blue dress, the sleeves rolled up and the hem knotted so it didn’t hang past her knees. She bolted toward him, her feet slapping the stone paving.

Moon stood, baffled, as she stumbled to a halt a few paces away. She said, “I just heard—They said you were with two Arbora children who were killed by Tath—Leaf and Fern?”

“Oh.” Moon felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Leaf had yellow-brown scales, Fern was dark green…”

“That’s them.” She took a sharp breath. “They were from my last clutch.”

They stared at one another a moment. Moon’s throat had gone dry. The Arbora distractedly pushed her curls back. “Who were the other two? I didn’t—”

“Bliss and Light.”

She nodded. “Their mother was Fair. She didn’t make it out of the colony. Neither did Yarrow. He was Fern and Leaf’s sire. That was our first clutch together. I don’t know about Bliss and Light’s sire, I’ll have to ask around. Not many of the soldiers and hunters made it out.” She blinked, and sat down suddenly on the paving.

Moon stood for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. All the words seemed to stick in his throat. Moving tentatively, he sat down beside her. She smelled of sweet herbs, and of fledglings and babies; she must be a teacher. He hoped she didn’t want him to go. Here was a living tie to his real family. “What’s your name?”

She rubbed her face, as if trying to push away the memories. “Sorry, I’m Feather.” She patted his knee absently. “I took care of you in the nurseries, when you were small enough to tuck under my arm.” As Moon was mentally reeling from that, she added, “They said there was a warrior with you? I didn’t recognize the name.”

“Sorrow. Her scales were dark copper. Her groundling form…She looked like me, same skin and hair. Except her eyes were brown.” He knew he wasn’t being very coherent, but it was the best he could manage.

“She must have changed her name.” Feather frowned and bit her lip in thought. “It sounds like she was from Malachite’s dominant bloodline, though. That should narrow it down a little. I’ll ask and see what the others who are my age remember. I suppose…” Her voice went thick. “She just grabbed as many children as she could?”

“Two in each arm. I was hanging on to her neck,” Moon told her. Then he went still, realizing what he had said. I don’t remember that. Except he did, the rush of air in his spines, clinging to a warm scaly body, Arbora babies too terrified to cry, and somewhere close by voices screaming in rage, agony…He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the image. “What happened?”

“It was the Fell. Back then, they weren’t as bad in the east. There were a few small flights that we knew of, preying on isolated groundling towns or camps. They never hit big cities, like I’ve heard they’ve done now.” Feather’s gaze was on the gardens, and the Arbora moving along the plantings. “We never could figure out how they got so close.” She shrugged a little, her expression turning bitter. “None of us had ever seen or scented Fell before, so the rulers must have been able to confuse the soldiers who were guarding the ground entrances just long enough to get inside. The next thing we knew, there were dakti swarming the passages and major kethel digging in through the top.”

Moon hesitated, watching her. “You didn’t look for survivors, afterward?” He braced himself not to react to her answer, whatever it was.

He still wasn’t prepared for it when she said, “We looked, but we didn’t think there were other survivors. The queen and the warriors went after the prisoners the Fell took.”

“Prisoners?”

“They took Malachite’s consort, Dusk. Your father. Some Arbora and Arbora children.” Feather turned to him and squeezed his wrist. “Malachite thought you were with them. I thought that’s where my clutch was. The Kethel brought down one of the bluffs, and it collapsed into the colony. We didn’t know who was a prisoner and who was buried under the rubble. The only one we were sure of was Dusk, because some of us saw the Fell take him.” She made a helpless gesture. “But the hunters and some of the warriors searched the forest around the colony, looking for anyone who might be separated, hurt. They should have found you.”

Moon pulled away, shaking his head, confused down to the core. “But when I wasn’t with the prisoners, and there were others missing—”

“It took Malachite well over a turn to find them and free them,” Feather said.

Moon stared. “They were trapped with the Fell for a turn?” It was too horrifying to take in.

“I was with the Arbora survivors. There were maybe a hundred of us, and the wounded warriors, what was left of the children and fledglings. We were hidden in the forest near the colony. Malachite, the warriors who were still able to fight, and a couple of young mentors went after the Fell. Three nights later, Malachite came back alone and told us to follow the coast back to the west, back here to the mother colony, that she and the others would catch up with us when they could.”

The enormity of that was hard to imagine. “That’s a long way to walk.”

“We thought so,” Feather admitted. “But we started out. Slowly at first, with all the wounded, but we made better progress once the warriors recovered and could carry us for short distances. We got messages from Malachite along the way. She would send warriors to check on us, make sure we were still well and that she could find us when she needed to. She wouldn’t let the warriors who had healed up join her, made them stay with us. Then in the rainy season, months and months later, she came with the others. She brought all the prisoners back, except your father. He was dead, along with twelve of the warriors.” Her expression held remembered anguish. “We didn’t know how many prisoners the Fell had. We’d convinced ourselves that most of the court had survived. Seeing how few there were…” She shook herself, shaking off the memory, the beads in her hair clicking. She looked up at him, bewildered. “I don’t understand how we missed you. You were alone all that time?”

“Until this turn. Stone, the line-grandfather from Indigo Cloud, found me.”

Feather hissed, a combination of frustration and regret. “I wonder…Do you remember how long the warrior fled with you? If the Fell were chasing her—She must have gone some distance from the colony, or we would have stumbled on her.”

“I don’t remember. The Fell could have followed her because she was carrying us, because they wanted children.” After Indigo Cloud’s experience with the Fell flight who had been determined to crossbreed Raksura, it was a real possibility. “What did the Fell do to the prisoners? Did they try to make them breed with the progenitor and the rulers?”

Feather sat back, eyes widening in astonishment and consternation. He thought he had shocked her, until she said, “How did you know about that?”

So that’s a ‘yes,’ Moon thought. “It almost happened to Indigo Cloud, before the colony moved to the Reaches. It was a Fell flight that had bred with Raksura before, and wanted more of us. They had a few dakti with mentor powers, and a female ruler who was part Raksuran queen.” Even as he said it, a horrible realization struck, that Ranea and the mentor-dakti might have been born from the Opal Night prisoners. “It wasn’t—That couldn’t have been the same flight that attacked—”

“What? Oh no, no.” Feather shook her head emphatically. “Malachite killed their progenitor, and— There were none of our people left with them. The warriors told me there wasn’t much left of the flight at all.”

Moon subsided, relieved. Now that he thought about it, the timing didn’t match what Ranea had told him about her flight’s multiple attempts to crossbreed Raksura. And she was part queen. She would have recognized my bloodline. She surely wouldn’t have missed the chance to gloat over it. He said, “Opal Night should already know what happened to Indigo Cloud. The word’s been spreading through Emerald Twilight to the other courts.”

“If Malachite and Onyx know, they didn’t tell us.” Feather still seemed distracted. “Not yet, anyway.”

Watching her, Moon felt like he had the end of a tangled mass of threads, and if he pulled in the right spot, the whole thing would come apart. If he just knew what the right spot was. “Does that have something to do with why Malachite had me brought here?”

“No, how could it?” Feather looked up, frowning. “Wait, Moon, didn’t you want to come?”

Moon didn’t want to go through the story again, but he had to give her an answer. “I was taken by the sister queen of Indigo Cloud. I wanted to stay.”

Feather, at least, didn’t try to argue with him. Her brow furrowed in sympathy. “I suppose they had no choice but to let you go.”

“She said she’d come after me, but she should have been here by now. I think …” Moon stopped, realizing he had come within a hair’s breadth of confessing the fear that he was infertile. Don’t be stupid. Feather might be sympathetic, but she wouldn’t keep that information from the Opal Night royals. “I’m not counting on it.”

Feather watched him worriedly. “Why not?”

Moon shook his head, wishing he hadn’t spoken. Then he sensed motion in the air above them and looked up.

A green warrior spiraled down from the upper levels of the hall. The slow fall indicated that the approach wasn’t hostile, but Moon pushed to his feet anyway.

Feather stood as well, murmuring, “That’s Rise.”

Moon’s thought was She’s here to tell me Jade’s arrived. He cursed himself for the surge of hope even as his heart started to beat faster.

Rise pulled her wings in to land neatly a polite distance down the reservoir’s rim. She shifted to her groundling form and came toward them. She nodded to Feather, then said to Moon, “The sister queen Onyx has asked that you be present at a meal this evening, with her and her consort, and some members of the court.”

Moon looked down, trying to hide the disappointment. Stop that, he told himself. Stop thinking about it.

“Onyx?” Feather said, not seeming pleased by this at all.

“Onyx,” Rise confirmed, unbending just enough to sound disgruntled.

Onyx was from the bloodline who had stayed in the Reaches. Still a relation, but presumably a distant one. Moon said, “Will Tempest be there?”

“She left, earlier this morning.” Rise looked uncomfortable.

That’s no surprise, Moon thought. As promised, Tempest had abandoned him as soon as possible. He looked from Rise to Feather, whose expression was now mutinous. There was definitely an undercurrent here that had nothing to do with Emerald Twilight’s abrupt departure. “I take it this dinner isn’t a good thing.”

Feather hissed out a breath. “Onyx and Malachite don’t exactly agree on a number of things. You would think the court would be better for two such strong queens, but not when they’re pulling in such different directions.”

“What directions?” Moon asked.

Rise cleared her throat significantly, glaring at Feather. Feather scratched her head, wincing. “Uh…Malachite will have to tell you about that.” It was clearly her turn to be evasive. “Really. She’d have my head if she found out I’d said anything to you.”

Rise offered suddenly, “You don’t have to go. You could say you don’t feel well, that you want to stay in your bower.”

It was probably a well-meant suggestion, but this was the first time one of the royals here had actually offered to speak to Moon, and it was an opportunity to find out more about what was actually going on. “No, I’ll go.”

Feather muttered a curse. With a note of warning, Rise said, “They won’t be kind to you.”

Moon snorted. The way the other consorts had reacted to him made that plain enough. “It won’t be the first time.” Both Rise and Feather looked puzzled, and he explained, “Raksura don’t like solitaries, and they especially don’t like consorts who are solitaries.”

Rise, being a warrior and speaking for queens, understood first, and her face went hard. Feather said, bewildered, “But you weren’t a solitary. You were lost.”

“But I couldn’t prove it.” He felt obscurely guilty, watching Feather’s face fall as understanding set in.

Rise inclined her head. “I’ll come to your bower when it’s time for the dinner.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to add something, then moved away. She shifted and took to the air, and hard flaps carried her up toward the higher levels of the hall.

Feather let out her breath. “I should go too. I need to get back to the nurseries or Luster will have a fit.” She stepped close and hugged him tightly. Like all Arbora, her groundling form felt like a soft cushion over rock hard muscle. She said, “Be careful. And try not to worry. Celadon will be back soon, and Malachite…This is hard for her. Just try to be patient.”

It was good advice and well-meant, even if he couldn’t take it. Moon hugged her back, and watched her walk away down the path along the reservoir.

* * *

After Feather had gone, Moon wandered around the reservoir to give himself time to think.

The Fell could have pursued Sorrow, driving her far from the colony, well outside the range that the Arbora had searched for survivors. He wondered if she had ever tried to return, to scout the colony to look for others, or if she had been unable to leave him and the other children for that long, and afraid to take them with her. In her position, Moon might have taken the chance. But that was easy for him to say, not being a desperate, traumatized, and possibly wounded warrior, responsible for four babies and a fledgling, hiding from the Fell in a forest filled with predators.

There was no way to know, now. He didn’t even know what Sorrow had been planning to do in the future. She might have been waiting until he and the others were old enough to travel, to start her own long journey back to the west.

It was strange to have so many questions answered, when there was still so much he didn’t know.

When he went back to his bower, he found someone had left tea warming on the hearth, and brought the clothes he had left drying in the guest bathing room. They were cleaner than the ones he was wearing now, and maybe a little less shabby. On his way here, he had passed his Arbora escort, and Russet had repeated Lithe’s offer to loan him clothes, obviously with the upcoming dinner in mind. Moon had turned her down; the Arbora meant well, but he didn’t want Opal Night’s gifts. Umber had seen him, and even commented on the scarcity of his belongings, so Onyx and her coterie would know; borrowing something finer would just make him look as if he cared about their opinion.

He drank the tea, then used the bathing room attached to the consort’s bowers, not wanting to give anyone any scope for remarks about dirty solitaries, and changed into his slightly less shabby clothes. Sitting by the hearth and waiting for Rise, he had time to realize the excuse she had suggested for not accepting the invitation might not be stretching the truth too much. He felt light-headed and a little sick.

He didn’t think it was the long trip. He had flown for longer periods than that, pushing harder, under worse conditions. But he had also slept deeply given every chance; on this trip, the only time he had really slept enough to feel rested had been in Viridian Sea. He hadn’t eaten well, either.

Presumably being invited to dinner would at least get him some food, though he was certain he would have to pay for it in aggravation.

Chapter Eight

The chamber Rise led Moon to was even more impressive than he had been expecting. It was impossible to guess the size or shape of the cavernous place. Widely-spaced fern trees had been planted in the floor and, aided by mentors’ magic, grown up to spread their soft green canopies across the ceiling. The smooth gray trunks were like pillars, and water flowed through a shallow stream that had been carved into the floor, complete with floating plants. The seed nodules that grew just under the broad feathery leaves had been spelled to give off light, so the trees were actually making the light they needed to survive, an artistic touch that probably pleased the Arbora.

Even this chamber couldn’t be big enough to hold the entire court, but as Rise led the way through the trees, Moon thought it might be more than half empty. Arbora and older warriors were taking their places on rugs and furs scattered on the floor, and as they passed, Moon caught many surreptitious glances. He didn’t see Russet, Lithe, or Feather, or any other familiar faces of the Arbora who had been staying close to the consorts’ hall. He didn’t think that was a particularly good sign. He glanced at Rise, who was trying to keep her expression neutral and mostly just looked grim.

At the top of the hall, in a circle of trees meant to simulate a forest clearing, the queens and consorts were seated on rich fur rugs. “That’s Onyx and her daughter queens,” Rise spoke in an almost voiceless whisper. “Her consort Umber, and the consorts taken by the queens, and the young consorts of Onyx’s bloodline.”

Still in her winged form, Onyx was bigger and therefore older than Pearl, and if she stood up would probably be more than a head taller than Moon. Her scales were a dark copper with a red web, and her jewelry, armbands, wristbands, a belt and broad pectoral, was gold with polished red stones. All the consorts were in their groundling forms, with Umber beside Onyx, and the others lounging on the furs behind them. A few had been among the consorts who had fled from Moon in the central well, so Moon wasn’t expecting any support from that quarter. The other queens were seated further away, and two of the daughter queens sat with their consort brothers. They looked young enough that they probably hadn’t been out of the nurseries very long.

At Onyx’s gesture, Rise led Moon to a fur in front of the group, several paces away from Onyx, with a clear separation between him and the other consorts. Rise hesitated, as if hoping to stay, but Onyx tilted her head and stared her down. Rise made a faint exhalation that might be an under-the-breath hiss, and left.

Moon sat down. Umber hadn’t looked at him, and the consorts and lesser queens just cast him covert glances and quickly looked away. Onyx stared at him but said nothing. Right, that’s how it’s going to be, Moon thought, unsurprised. He let out his breath in a resigned sigh.

The chamber was fairly quiet, just a low murmur of talk from the Arbora and warriors seated outside the royal glade. A young male warrior who seemed reluctant to get too close set a plate in front of Moon, with cut pieces of yellow and red fruit and a round of dark brown flatbread. Others were eating already, so Moon took a piece of fruit. He had reached the point where he wasn’t hungry anymore, which wasn’t a good sign. He forced himself to eat, hoping by the time the meat arrived his stomach would be more cooperative. He had managed to get two pieces of fruit and a piece of bread down, when Onyx said, “So this is Malachite’s lost offspring.”

“That’s what they tell me,” Moon said, and took another bite of fruit. He realized a moment later, as the other consorts stared, that he hadn’t been expected to answer. Well, it was too late now, and it wasn’t as if anything he said or did here was going to change their opinion of him.

Onyx didn’t register surprise, but he could sense her interest sharpen. “And you lived feral in the forest for forty turns.”

“No.” Moon deliberately chewed and swallowed the fruit, though it went down like a piece of rock. “I lived feral in a lot of places for forty turns.”

He could tell the consorts and other queens were listening avidly, though most affected attitudes of boredom with varying degrees of success. Onyx said, “With groundlings.”

“Sometimes.” He licked the juice off his fingers, and added, “When they’d have me.”

Onyx’s spines trembled. Moon suspected his self-possession was annoying to her. She wanted him off-balance and diffident, she wanted him to attempt to ingratiate himself; she wanted something from him that she wasn’t getting. Then she asked, “In their beds?” Her smooth voice held a combination of idle curiosity and contempt.

The consorts who were pretending not to listen slid sideways looks at him. The closest warriors and Arbora had gone silent.

Moon felt a wave of heat pass over him. No one at Indigo Cloud had ever asked that question, not Jade, not Chime. Not even Stone, though he had to know the answer already, since he knew Moon had been living with a groundling woman. Moon had thought it didn’t matter to the Raksura. Another thing you got wrong. He said, “That’s none of your concern.”

Onyx tilted her head, and there was a long fraught pause. “Your manners leave something to be desired.”

That was like a Tath calling a Ghobin ugly. Managing to sound as if he was really curious, Moon said, “Isn’t that usually considered the fault of the birthcourt? Mine abandoned me and four Arbora children to die in the forest, so maybe they aren’t the best example.”

The silence spread through the big room. Onyx sat up, spines flicking. Her voice hardened as she said, “And your former queen at Indigo Cloud provided no instruction?”

Of course Onyx knew exactly where to strike back. “She didn’t have much time for it. There was a Fell attack to fight off.”

Onyx went still, and there was an uncomfortable stir among the consorts and sister queens. Moon had been hoping to work his way back to another reference to abandoning children, since that had worked so well the first time, but it seemed he had touched a different nerve. Were they that tense about a reference to the Fell attack that had happened more than forty turns ago, at an eastern daughter colony where Onyx and these other young queens and consorts hadn’t even been present? That couldn’t be it.

Probing the sensitive spot, Moon said, “She could have abandoned the court to the Fell, but she didn’t.” There was an indrawn breath, a deeper silence from the listeners surrounding them. “That’s not a choice every queen would make—”

Onyx leapt to her feet and crossed the few paces between them in one bound, spines flared, furious. Moon fell back, half sprawled on the fur and scrabbled backward. His panicked attempt to shift was squelched as firmly as if he had been born a groundling. He snarled up at Onyx; if he was going to die or get a beating in front of half the court he wanted to at least go out fighting. Then Onyx froze.

Something had perceptibly changed in the room’s atmosphere. Onyx twitched and hissed, then whipped around to face another queen who stood only a few paces away.

She was the same size and build as Onyx, but where Onyx was copper and red, she was a green so dark it was almost black. For a moment Moon thought the contrasting web pattern across her scales was a light gray, then realized it was scar tissue, spidering across her scales and obscuring the colors. She wore no jewelry except for silver and crystal sheaths on her claws. She was too old, too big for a sister queen. This had to be Malachite.

She said, “You go too far.” Her voice was calm, colorless. Her spines didn’t even tremble, but every Raksura in the chamber seemed to shrink.

Moon thought she was talking to him. But Onyx stepped back and made an obvious effort to drop her spines. She said, “Perhaps I did. Your offspring is as provoking as you are.”

Deliberately, Malachite looked around the chamber. She might have been taking note of who was there, or trying to decide if she wanted to tear Onyx apart now or wait until later. Moon tried to shift, hoping Onyx had forgotten about him. If she had, Malachite hadn’t; he might as well have tried to turn himself into a grasseater or a major kethel.

Then Malachite reached down, grabbed Moon’s arm, and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. He choked back a frightened yelp; he would have screamed for help but no one here would lift a claw for him and that would just be insult piled on top of injury.

She let go of his arm and Moon wrenched away and made it exactly one pace before she caught him around the waist. Then she leapt upward.

Smothered against her shoulder, Moon couldn’t see where they were going. He felt fern tree fronds brush his back as she jumped up through the tree canopy. A jolt as she caught hold of some projection on the ceiling above it, then a sideways twist and dimmer light, the sense of a smaller space, as she went through an opening into a passage. Moon went limp, the only thing he could do, hoping if she dropped him he would have a chance to bolt.

She took two more turns, moving up, then down a fairly straight passage that led into a larger space. Moon’s inborn sense of direction told him where they were going. Back toward the consorts’ bowers, but higher up. Then she stopped abruptly.

She let him go and Moon, still limp, collapsed. As he hit the floor, he contracted his body, rolled away from her and came to his feet in one motion.

He crouched, braced to bolt in any direction, to the nearest exit or potential weapon. But she leapt up and away from him. She landed on an open balcony high in the wall and perched there.

Moon stepped back, wary, certain he was about to be assaulted somehow. This chamber was large and round, shadowy in its upper reaches, its walls twisted into a great spiral that seemed to stretch up some distance through the trunk. The spell-lights were polished white stones set into the wood, but only a few were lit, and it made the wall carvings blurred and indistinct. The doorways on this level and the open balconies above were just dark holes. He tried to shift again but it was no use. He was shivering from reaction, the chill of the fight-or-flight reflex that he couldn’t obey running unused through his veins.

Then he sensed movement behind him and spun around.

From somewhere above, a younger queen dropped down to land lightly on the floor. She was only a little taller than Moon, with green scales webbed with bronze. She started toward him and Moon jerked back with a warning hiss.

She held up her hands, claws retracted, palms out. “I’m your clutchmate, Celadon.”

Moon just stared at her. He hadn’t believed she existed. He hadn’t thought Lithe and Feather were lying, he just…hadn’t believed she really existed.

She moved toward him again and he fell back another step. She stopped, uncertain. “You don’t remember me.”

It took him a moment to realize he needed to answer her. “No.”

“I remember you. Not in much detail. Just flashes, images, your scent.” Celadon hesitated, her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”

That was a pointless question. Moon shook his head, exasperated, and looked up at Malachite. She was still on the balcony, looming over them. “What was that about?”

Celadon threw a dark glance upward. “That’s a good question.”

Malachite’s tail twitched. From the intensity of her dark green gaze, Moon suspected that was her equivalent of a lash of rage. She said, “Onyx knew better than to expose him to the court without my permission.”

“When were you planning to give permission?” Moon demanded. He was furious, he was frightened, he wasn’t sure why he wanted to provoke such an obviously dangerous queen, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “How long did you mean to keep me in an empty consorts’ hall?”

Malachite, oddly enough, just looked away. Celadon’s expression softened. She said, “She was waiting for me. She’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” Of me? Moon thought, bewildered. It couldn’t be any physical fear; Malachite was the most intimidating queen he had ever seen, including Ice of Emerald Twilight and Pearl. He could see how she might be afraid of him contaminating the other consorts, yes. But he didn’t see why or how that could make Malachite afraid to confront him. It certainly hadn’t bothered Onyx.

Malachite still wouldn’t look at him. Slowly, reluctantly, Celadon said, “There is something we need to tell you. To explain to you. I don’t know if—”

Rustling sounded from a passage on the far side of the room and a warrior bounded in, then halted and shifted to groundling when he saw Malachite and Celadon. He was an older male, worried and breathing hard from what must have been a very rapid journey through the colony. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to be disturbed. But there’s a line-grandfather at the colony’s entrance. A huge line-grandfather.”

It was possible that Moon’s heart actually stopped for a moment.

“A line-grandfather?” Celadon said. She threw a startled glance at Moon. “From where?”

“Indigo Cloud.” The warrior eyed Moon warily. “He says we have something that belongs to him, and if we don’t let him in, he’ll tear the place apart.”

Moon’s head swam and he suddenly found himself sitting on the floor, bracing himself to stay upright. The polished wood felt oddly warm under his hands, as if his body was way too cold. Celadon knelt in front of him and tried to peer into his face without touching him. “What’s wrong?”

He tried to say, “Nothing,” but he couldn’t even croak the word out. There was a commotion around him, he felt sick, then decided that maybe lying down flat was a better idea after all. After that, everything went black.

* * *

Moon came swimming up through darkness to realize someone was patting his face, gently enough but with a discernibly restrained violence, as if whoever it was would rather be slapping him. He was lying down, his head pillowed on someone’s boney thigh, surrounded by Stone’s scent. Stone was saying, “Moon, when did you last eat?”

“Um,” Moon managed to reply. His voice sounded dry and thick. “I don’t…”

“Idiot.” Stone got an arm under his shoulders and pulled him up to a sitting position, held him there when Moon nearly fell over forward. “Hand me that.”

“Hand you what?” Moon rasped, then someone else handed Stone a cup. Stone tasted it, grimaced, then pushed it into Moon’s hands and said, “Drink that.”

Moon took a sip, knowing Stone would pour it down his throat otherwise. It was warm, unpleasantly milky, and very dense. He made a noise of disgust. Stone growled. “Drink. It.”

Moon made himself take a few swallows. It was horrible, but it stayed down and it cleared his head. He blinked, realized that he was leaning against Stone, and that Celadon and Lithe the mentor crouched near them, watching with concern. Past them, Malachite paced the floor, tail sweeping back and forth, a dark presence.

“That should hold him until he can get some real food down,” Lithe said, sounding contrite. She was holding a blue stoneware jug, and from the unpleasant odor rising from it, it was the source of the drink in the cup. “I didn’t realize he wasn’t eating.”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Stone insisted.

Stone looked exactly the same as the last time Moon had seen him, when he had left with the others to take the Valendera and the Indala back to Niran’s family. Moon was so glad to see him he could throw his head back and howl. “I was trying to eat. I kept getting interrupted.” He tried to set the cup down and Stone handed it back to him. Moon took another swallow and winced. “I’ve gone longer than that without eating.”

“But you were upset,” Lithe said. “I’m sorry, I should have seen it.”

Moon had been upset and starving before, too. But maybe not this upset, not for a long time. “What happened?” he asked Stone. “Where is she?”

Stone didn’t have to ask who he meant. He said, “There was an accident. Everyone’s fine, but she was delayed. I’ll tell you later.” He looked at Malachite, his one-eyed gaze hard. “We could do this the easy way. Just let me take him back to his queen and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Moon was beginning to understand that Stone seemed to take a very different view of Opal Night’s claim on him than Tempest, Zephyr, Pearl, or Jade.

Malachite paused to regard Stone, her dark green eyes opaque. She said, “Your queen had no right to take him.”

Stone showed his teeth. “That might be true. But if we do it the easy way, then we don’t have to talk to other courts about your little problem.”

Malachite went still, though it was the stillness of a predator about to strike. Celadon’s expression twisted between resignation and anger. Lithe gasped and almost dropped the jug.

Malachite said, quietly, with menace, “How do you know about that?”

“I can smell it,” Stone said, holding her gaze. “It’s faint, but it’s there.”

Moon rubbed the haze out of his eyes, and looked hard at Stone’s expression. “Smell what?”

One of Malachite’s spines flicked. She said, “Fell. He scents Fell.”

Fell. At Stone’s advanced age, his senses were far more acute than any other Raksura’s, even a queen’s. He had detected the past taint of Fell at the old Indigo Cloud colony, and known they were present some distance from the destroyed Sky Copper colony. Moon thought, Fell here? After what happened to this court? So many deaths? The Arbora would go crazy. Unless…The Fell had done to Opal Night what they had tried to do to Indigo Cloud, Feather had admitted as much. And she said Malachite rescued the survivors. Maybe she rescued all of them. Moon looked up at Malachite. “Fell crossbreeds. The Fell forced the captives from the eastern colony to breed with them, but you took the children and brought them back here.”

Stone lifted his brows. “How long ago was this?”

“Forty or so turns,” Moon said. Malachite hadn’t reacted. He looked at Celadon. “They’d be a little younger than you and me.”

Celadon threw one last frustrated glance up at Malachite, then said, “Yes. That’s what happened. We have one consort and several Arbora who are half Fell. There were others, but they died as infants.” She lifted her spines in a resigned shrug. “That’s what they wanted me to explain to you. I was hoping to work up to it a little more gently.”

That explained why there were two consorts’ halls, and why the consorts of Malachite’s bloodline had been moved out of the one Moon was staying in. There was at least one consort that no one had wanted Moon to see. He asked, “Is that why Onyx got so angry when I mentioned the Fell?” Except that didn’t make sense. Onyx’s bloodline had never been in the east, so presumably the crossbreeds were only distantly related to her.

“In a way,” Celadon said. “When Malachite and the others returned from the east, Onyx was reigning queen here. She didn’t want the half-Fell children in the court. So Malachite fought her and became reigning queen. She must have assumed you knew and were taunting her.”

Moon noticed Lithe was looking down at her feet, her face drawn into a wince, as if she anticipated something terrible. Her toes were dirt-smudged, showing she had been out in the gardens again. And Moon realized he hadn’t seen her shifted form.

Moon looked, really looked, at Lithe’s profile, but couldn’t see a hint of anything but Arbora. He said, “Lithe. You’re half-Fell?”

She took a deep breath, and rubbed her face. “Yes. You can see it when I shift. So…I don’t shift unless I have to.” She looked up at Stone, bleak and resigned. “You could tell? Is that why you tasted the simple I made for Moon?”

“I tasted the simple because I don’t trust any of you people,” Stone told her. “I could tell something Fell was or had been in this room, but I hadn’t narrowed it down to you yet.”

“And what are you going to do?” Malachite asked Stone.

“I’m taking him and leaving.” Stone took Moon by the shoulders and set him aside, then pushed to his feet. He was a head shorter than Malachite, but he suddenly seemed to be taking up far more space in the room. “We took a consort of your bloodline without permission; you’re hiding Fell crossbreeds in your court. I’d say we’re even.”

Malachite’s tail twitched. “You may leave whenever you like. He is staying.”

Stone cocked his head, eyes narrowed.

Celadon stood. “But I’ve just met him! All this time, we thought he was dead; you can’t just take him away again, not so soon. Most of the Arbora and warriors haven’t even seen him yet.”

Moon thought that appeal might be more effective on Stone than any threat Malachite could come up with. “Why did you bring me here?” he asked, looking from Celadon to Malachite.

Celadon said, “Because you belong to us.” She glared at Stone. “They had no right to take you.”

Stone was unmoved. “Your bloodline gave up its claim on him turns ago.”

Malachite said, “I never gave up my claim.” For the first time, she met Moon’s eyes. Moon’s breath caught in his throat. It was a reigning queen’s power to touch some inner part of you, to draw it out and connect it to the rest of the court. It was part of how queens could keep other Raksura from shifting. Moon felt like Malachite had just pulled his heart right out of his body.

As if oblivious to what she had just done to him, Malachite said, “And it’s fitting that he be here now.”

Moon wrenched his gaze away and stared at the floor, trying to fight that pull.

It was Stone who said, “Why now?”

Malachite paced away. “When we reached the safety of this colony again, our mentors spent turns trying to understand what had happened to us, why the Fell had tried to make crossbreeds. They searched our histories, went to other courts to search their libraries, always careful never to speak of what had happened to us, but they never found any sign that the Fell had done anything like this before. They scryed for answers, but discovered nothing.” Malachite lifted her head. “But within the past turn, the scrying told us that another Fell flight was coming here, and that that flight would hold the answer.”

“Here?” Moon said, appalled. “To the Reaches?” It can’t be happening again.

Stone hissed in disbelief. “Fell haven’t come here for two hundred turns. They remember what happened the last time.”

“The Reaches were overpopulated then,” Malachite said. “Perhaps they wish to test us again.”

Lithe cleared her throat, and said hesitantly, “I can feel the flight out there, getting closer. It came down from the southwest.”

“You can hear the Fell?” Moon asked Lithe. He wondered what other abilities she had. The crossbreed mentor-dakti from the Fell flight who had attacked Indigo Cloud had had unusual powers of divination, much stronger than a normal mentor.

“No.” She shuddered. “But I know where they are. I’ve always known.” From her expression, it was more burden than asset. “The others—the other crossbreeds—don’t sense them like I do.”

Stone folded his arms. He still looked like he thought he was talking to crazy people, but he was intrigued, too. “So what are you planning to do about this?”

Celadon told him, “There’s a groundling city a day of warrior’s flight away from here. We think the Fell will attack there first.” She turned to Moon. “That’s where I was when you arrived. I’ve been trying to persuade them of the danger.”

Moon stared. “Persuade them of the danger? What does that mean? Did you tell them Fell were coming?”

Celadon hissed. “Of course I did. But they’ve never heard of Fell before. They don’t believe me.”

“They don’t believe you? So you just left, let a whole city full of groundlings with the Fell about to feed on them and no idea—” He took a step forward and a wave of dizziness hit. He swayed, and Stone caught his arm to steady him.

Malachite said, “That’s enough.”

* * *

Moon and Stone ended up back in Moon’s bower in the empty consorts’ hall.

It was past sunset and the window into the hall was dark, the bower lit only by the spelled stones set into the carving. The Arbora had brought food and then scattered because Stone was intimidating, especially when he was irritated, and Moon’s mood wasn’t much better. Stone had made Moon eat before he let him talk anymore, and Moon had choked down the plates of raw meat without tasting any of it. Fell crossbreeds raised as Raksura, auguries, it was all too much to make sense of in one night. And the worse part, that the Fell were heading toward a completely unprepared groundling city. That thought brought vivid images of Saraseil to mind, the dakti hunting helpless groundlings through the streets, the kethel tunneling through the walls of stone buildings after the inhabitants who had tried to take shelter there. The fire, the gutted bodies. Fell attacks on cities were worse than on camps or small settlements. The groundlings were so often trapped in their own homes, with their defenses against other predators or groundling tribes useless against the Fell.

“There, I ate it,” he said finally, shoving the last empty plate away. The meat sat in his stomach like a rock. “Are you happy?”

“Do I look happy?” Stone paced on the far side of the bowl hearth. “I turn my back for two heartbeats and the court falls apart. All that trouble to get us back to our home colony and then this happens, you miserable, ungrateful children. I should never have bred in the first place.”

This had been a recurring theme since leaving Malachite and the others in the queens’ hall. Moon was right: Stone’s view of Opal Night’s request for Moon’s return was radically different than anyone else’s. Stone seemed to think that Indigo Cloud had had the option of simply refusing and had only given in out of some desire to personally irritate him. Moon had earlier pointed out that he had suggested simply refusing and the others had said it was impossible, but by this point he had given up trying to argue rationally. He just said, “I’m not related to you.”

“And I should have known your whole bloodline would be crazy.” Stone stopped and glared down at Moon. “Did any other queen touch you?”

“Sort of.” At Stone’s expression, he explained, “Tempest hit me in the face. But I threw a kettle at her and made a joke about her dead sister, so I was asking for it.”

“That’s all right.” Stone resumed pacing. “But don’t tell Jade. We’ve got enough to worry about.”

“She’s really coming?”

“Of course she’s coming—” Stone stopped pacing again, frowning. “You didn’t think she was.”

Moon looked down at the hearth. His throat went tight. “We had to stop when one of the warriors was hurt, and we were three days late. Jade said she’d start the day after we left, and when she wasn’t here when we arrived…” He was still having trouble believing this was really happening. He had been trying to make himself accept the fact that he had been discarded again, that he would never see anyone from Indigo Cloud, and then Stone had walked in and the world had changed. Not very different from how the world had changed when Stone had first found him with the Cordans in the eastern jungle.

Stone sat on his heels so they were closer to eye level. “Why did you think she wasn’t coming?”

“I told you, she wasn’t here.” That didn’t really answer Stone’s question, but then Moon couldn’t answer it. Not in any way that made sense to anyone other than him. “And she had Ember.”

Stone looked honestly baffled. “Who?”

“The consort Emerald Twilight gave her to replace me!”

“Oh, the kid.” Stone dismissed Ember with a wave of his hand. “He’s your problem. I’ve raised enough kids, I’m not doing another one.”

Moon sat there a moment, too floored to respond. He shook his head impatiently, trying to get his scattered thoughts together. “You said there was an accident but no one was hurt. What happened? Was it another platform collapse?”

Stone’s sharp gaze didn’t waver, for long enough that Moon started to feel like prey and had to fight the urge to growl. Then Stone finally relented and said, “No, it was a hunting accident.”

Relief made Moon break out into a sweat, then he realized what Stone had said. “A hunting accident?”

“Two young hunters went exploring on one of the platforms a couple of trees away and walked right into a hibernating predator.” Stone absently scratched the back of his neck. “We used to call them ‘snatchers.’ They look like snakes, but with long arms. Not much scent, and don’t make a lot of noise when they move. This one wasn’t moving until the idiots woke it up. Fortunately the warrior patrol heard them and held it off until Jade got there.” He added, as if it was an unimportant detail, “Bone said it was a good forty paces long.”

“Forty paces? But what—” Moon had the feeling Stone was leaving something out. “Why did that keep her from leaving? Did she think there were more?”

“She killed it, but she broke her right arm and cut up her shoulder.”

Moon shoved to his feet. “You said no one was hurt!”

“I didn’t want to tell you in front of them.” Stone jerked his head toward the doorway. “I preferred your crazy bloodline thinking I had a queen on her way to back me up.”

It was Moon’s turn to pace, to fight the nervous urge to bust out of here and head back to Indigo Cloud immediately. “I should have been there.”

“That was actually my point,” Stone said, his voice dry.

Moon ignored that. “She can’t fly? For how long?”

“Getting the break knocked her out and she went into her Arbora form. Heart was afraid if she shifted before she healed, it would translate to wing damage. From the time we got back to the colony…” Stone looked thoughtful. “She should be almost healed up by now. If I can get your damn birthqueen to let us leave in the morning, we can probably meet her on the way, before she gets too far.”

Moon stopped, staring at one of the wall carvings without seeing it. Leave in the morning, go back to Indigo Cloud, go home. If someone had said that to him yesterday, if he had thought there was any real chance of it, he would have sprung at it like a starving predator at fresh meat.

And Jade hadn’t lied about coming after him. None of this changed the fact that Moon hadn’t produced a clutch yet, but maybe with Ember there now, Moon’s shortcoming in that area didn’t matter as much. Whatever it was, the smart thing to do was to get back to Indigo Cloud as soon as possible, and work on becoming so entrenched there that getting rid of him would be far more difficult.

But he couldn’t. He said, “I can’t go back. Not yet.”

Stone said, ominously, “What?”

Moon faced him. “There’s a Fell flight heading for a groundling city. A groundling city so unprepared they won’t even know to run away until it’s too late. And it’s only a day’s flight from the outskirts of the Reaches. We just can’t ignore it.” He couldn’t believe Stone didn’t see that.

Stone growled under his breath. “I know, I know. I just don’t want Indigo Cloud involved with it.”

So Stone did see it. “What, were you going to take me to Jade and then turn around and come back here?”

“I was considering it,” he admitted. “If one Fell flight succeeds here, the others will follow. We’ll have to deal with them sooner or later.”

He was right, and the thought made Moon’s insides cold. “So we should stay and help.”

Stone pushed to his feet and stepped close, and made his words an emphatic order. “I want you out of this, and I don’t want Jade anywhere near it.”

“Why? We’ve both killed rulers. And Jade—”

“You idiot. This flight is probably coming here because it wants to make crossbreed Raksura.” Stone hissed. “A few ruler-queens like Ranea would make it easier for the Fell to take on the Reaches again.”

Moon turned away, sudden tension making his back teeth ache. More reason to make sure this flight was destroyed utterly. He muttered, “Stop calling me an idiot.”

“Stop acting like one,” Stone said, but without much heat.

Moon leaned his shoulder against the wall, making himself think with his head and not his claws. “Maybe this flight is related to the one that came after Indigo Cloud.” The flight which had destroyed the groundling city of Saraseil, who had used their cross-breed mentor-dakti to track Moon across time, to predict that he would one day go to Indigo Cloud. Maybe one of the mentor-dakti escaped and predicted I’d come here. The thought didn’t help his still queasy stomach.

“Maybe.” Stone stepped to the hearth and took a seat on the fur mat. He grimaced as he settled into place, rubbing his lower back. “You can tell Malachite to ask one of the rulers when she’s ripping his guts out.”

Moon went to sit down on the furs, suddenly aware of how exhausted he was; he didn’t think he would be able to stay awake much longer. Stone looked weary too, and a little more gray than usual in the spell-light. Moon asked, “Why did it take you so long to get back to Indigo Cloud? Did the Arbora want to stop a lot?” It wasn’t fun being carried for long periods of time, and Blossom and the few other Arbora who had helped Niran sail the flying ships were adventurous types. Moon had figured they would have made Stone and the other warriors land frequently so they could sightsee.

“Not exactly. We had company on the way back.”

“Company?” Then Moon remembered who else was an adventurous type, who had been cheated out of his trip to see a Raksuran colony by a Fell attack. And who might find a trip to see the Reaches, the fabled homeland of the Raksura, irresistible. “Delin?”

“He gave the Arbora a ride back in another flying boat.” Stone let his breath out, sounding tired and annoyed.

Moon wanted to see Delin again, and had just assumed that would never happen. But then he had also assumed he would never see Stone again. He was suddenly too tired, too overwhelmed to think about it a moment more. He pulled another fur around and lay down on it, saying, “We’ll decide what to do in the morning.”

Stone made a noise that combined a snort of derision and a growl. But after a moment, he moved around and lay down next to Moon.

Chapter Nine

Moon had fallen asleep immediately, lulled by Stone’s reassuring presence. But deep into the night, he woke suddenly with the conviction that someone was in the passage outside the bower.

It might be one of the Arbora checking on them, but he remembered the sense that someone had been standing outside the guest chamber last night. He sat up on one elbow, and saw Stone lying on his back, eyes open.

Stone caught Moon’s gaze and pointed up and to the side. Moon nodded, remembering the layout of the hall. That faint sense of presence moved up through the passage to the deserted bowers, toward the area that had shown signs of recent occupation.

Moon eased away from Stone, motioning for him to stay where he was. Stone gave him a withering look in return. Ignoring that, Moon got to his feet and moved silently to the door of the bower.

The passage was empty, the white glow of the spell lights reflecting off the curves and angles in the carving, the old claw marks scarring the polished wood. Moon climbed quietly upward toward the other bowers. Faint movement sounded from one, and he stepped into the doorway. There was a figure beside the cold hearth, just leaning down to pick up the book that lay on a cushion.

Moon said, “Did you forget to take it with you?”

The figure whipped around so fast it sat down hard, the book in its lap. It looked like a young warrior or consort, at least at first sight. His hair was dark and his eyes were green, and he had sharp features and a lean, rangy build. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and pants with a darker sash around his waist. The material was clingy enough to reveal a certain knobbiness at his elbows, wrists, and knees, suggesting that he had only recently matured.

But his skin was pale, too pale, without even a hint of bronze or copper tint. When Raksura went to gray and then white with age, they lost the color in their hair as well as their skin. Only the groundling forms of Fell rulers had skin this pale when young.

So this was the crossbreed consort. Besides the skin color, Moon could see no trace of Fell.

He stared at Moon for a long moment, his tense body slowly relaxing as Moon made no move to attack. He cleared his throat and touched the book’s cover. “I was reading it when they said we had to move.” He hesitated. “You’re Moon. I’m Shade. We have the same father.”

“I know.” Their consort father would have been forced to mate with a Fell progenitor to produce Shade, but there didn’t seem to be any point in mentioning that. Moon stepped into the bower and paced along the wall. The hollowed-out niches held trinkets, mostly bits of jewelry, cups for a tea set, broken wooden pens, a couple of folded books. There was also a battered cloth doll, relic of Shade’s not so long ago fledglinghood. It all seemed so ordinary, not the place Moon would ever have imagined a half-Fell consort to live.

Atop a wicker chest was a sheet of paper, and Moon recognized the writing as Raksuran, though he couldn’t read any of it. But there were small scribbled drawings of plants, warriors in flight, and Arbora working in gardens. Drawing tools lay nearby, charcoal pieces and pens carved from reeds. He wondered if Shade had done the drawings himself. Moon had never been able to make a recognizable image on paper, even when he had tried to imitate groundlings’ work, and had never seen any of the Aeriat at Indigo Cloud do it. He had thought it was a skill reserved for Arbora. “Can you hear them?”

Shade didn’t need to ask who he meant. “No.” Still sitting on the fur, he had twisted around to watch Moon circle the room. “Is it true you were alone all this time?”

“Yes.” Moon stepped away from the drawings. “What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, since no queen will take me, and I can’t leave the court?” Shade shrugged, long fingers fiddling with the book’s leather cover again. “I don’t want to leave; everyone I know is here.”

“You don’t want a queen?”

Shade’s young face was serious. “Even if there was one who wanted me, I shouldn’t breed.” It sounded as if he had given it a good deal of thought. “The clutch might be all right, like me and the others, but they might not.”

It was…not an unrealistic view of the situation. At least no one had lied to Shade about who and what he was, and what he was likely to expect. High in the wall there was an opening to the central well, and Moon stopped beneath it, listening. It must be in a fold of the trunk that faced away from the reservoir, so the rush of falling water was more distant, and the clicks and calls of the insects sleeping in the vines were audible. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from this conversation. Maybe nothing.

Then Shade said suddenly, “Feather said you look just like our father.”

Moon went still. For an instant he felt his connection to this court, to Malachite, and it tugged on him like a leash.

He turned to face Shade, who was lost in thought, turning the pages of the book. Shade said, “I never saw him, because he died, but…The other consorts who live here with me, they’re descended from Malachite’s sister queen who died, and they look a little like him too. So do our cross-clutchmates, in Onyx’s bloodline. But they’re soft, and you’ve got hard edges. It makes you look older and Feather said you look just like him. I think that’s why Malachite was afraid to see you.” Shade frowned thoughtfully, apparently oblivious to the effect this was having on Moon. “I guess that must have hurt you, but I don’t think she realized what it was going to be like, seeing the image of him again. Feather said Malachite’s been so filled with rage that she’s barely felt anything else in forty turns. You coming back means she has to let some of that go. That’s hard for her.”

Moon turned away. He didn’t want to believe it; he didn’t want to give Malachite that much credit. But Dart had said the queen started to enter the room, saw Moon, and left.

He heard a rustle as Shade moved uneasily, maybe finally sensing that this was a difficult subject. Shade said, “What was it like, traveling out in the world?”

Root had asked Moon that once, what felt like a lifetime ago. Chime had countered the question with “what is the wind like?” but Moon wanted to give Shade a better answer. But summing up the totality of the wind would have been easier. He said, “It was hard, but…it wasn’t all bad. I saw a lot of different places, and people.”

“But there weren’t any other Raksura?”

“I didn’t know where to look for them.” He turned back, and Shade’s baffled expression almost made him smile. “The Three Worlds is a big place.”

Shade seemed as if he was having trouble imagining it. “Did you live with a groundling court?”

“Sometimes. But when they realized what I was, I always had to leave.” Shade’s confusion deepened, and Moon explained gently, “In the east, where I was living, the groundlings are afraid of Raksura. They think we’re Fell.”

“But we—you don’t look like a Fell!”

“To them we all do.”

Shade’s brow furrowed as he turned that over. “I see. But…you must have been lonely.”

It was a surprise that Shade saw that so readily. He had always been surrounded by his court, protected by a powerful reigning queen who had fought her way through a Fell flight and killed a progenitor to retrieve the last of her dead consort’s offspring. But maybe he was aware of what could have happened to him.

Still considering it, Shade said, “The only place I’d like to see outside the court is Aventera. The warriors described it to me, and it sounds very strange. But I’m not sure I want to meet groundlings, if they’re going to be afraid of me.”

“Aventera.” Moon hadn’t heard the name before, but he could make a guess. “Is that the groundling city that Celadon went to?”

“Yes.” Shade yawned, and got to his feet, the book tucked under his arm. “I’d better go back now.” He hesitated, shy and uncertain and very like an ordinary young Raksura. “Can we talk again?”

Moon hesitated, but he was surprised to realize what his answer was. “Yes.”

Shade nodded and disappeared down the passage.

Moon waited until Shade’s steps had faded, then he went down to his own bower. Stone hadn’t moved, and Moon lay down beside him. The fur still held the shape of his body, though he had been gone long enough for it to lose the warmth. Stone didn’t comment, and after a moment, Moon said, “Did you hear all that?”

“Yes.” He was silent for so long, Moon thought that was all he was going to say. Then Stone added, “Not sure I would have done it, in their place. It would have just made it that much worse, if they’d turned wrong when they got older.”

It was a strange thing that Opal Night had done, that Malachite had done, raising these changeling children instead of killing them. Moon wondered how many courts would have done it. He thought most Raksura would have considered it mercy to kill them. Moon might have thought it himself, if he hadn’t met Lithe and Shade.

Hard as it would have been to kill something that must have looked very like a baby Raksura, it would have been much, much worse to watch it turn from a child into a monster. But Opal Night had taken the risk. Maybe Malachite saw it as another path to victory over the Fell. Raising the crossbreeds as Raksura, to show that Raksuran blood was stronger. “So you think they were right?”

Stone rolled over, clearly putting an end to the conversation. “I think they were lucky.”

* * *

Moon woke at dawn, when Stone was stirring. Russet and two other Arbora must have been listening for them to move, because they brought a kettle and pot for tea immediately. Russet lingered as if she wanted to say something, but left when Stone glared narrowly at her.

Moon picked up the pressed cake of tea and the wooden tool used to scrape it off into the pot. “What was that about?”

“I don’t like interfering Arbora.” Stone took the cake and the scraper away, and moved the pot out of Moon’s reach. He was particular about tea.

“The Arbora at Indigo Cloud aren’t interfering?” Because that hadn’t been Moon’s experience.

Stone sniffed at the tea dubiously, then set it aside and got his own out of his pack. “It’s different when they’re related to you.”

Moon waited until Stone had the first cup down before he said, “I want to stay. I want to find out what Opal Night is going to do about the Fell and the groundling city.”

Stone hissed in pure irritation and deliberately set the cup down. It was a delicate blue ceramic, with bands of silver gray and dark green, in a complex pattern that would probably make the Arbora at Indigo Cloud sick with envy. “Are you going to say that to Jade when she gets here?”

Until last night, Jade’s arrival had felt like something from a Hassi creation myth: much longed for but expected to be apocryphal. Even knowing that she would be here soon, Moon was still having trouble thinking logically about it. He didn’t answer, and Stone continued, “And if I can’t get you out of here, do you think your crazy mother who had you dragged all the way across the Reaches is just going to hand you over when Jade asks?”

When Stone said “mother,” Moon still thought first of Sorrow and not Malachite, and it took him a moment to answer. “She doesn’t have any reason to keep me here.”

A voice from behind him said, “You don’t want to know us at all, do you?”

Moon twitched around. Celadon stood in the doorway. Distracted, he hadn’t heard her arrival, but he felt fairly certain it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Stone. Irritated at being caught unawares, at her for existing, at Stone, he told her, “No, I don’t. Why should I?”

Celadon stepped forward, spines flicking in agitation. “We’re your bloodline. We’re responsible for you—”

Moon shoved to his feet. “You left me to die in a forest. That’s what you’re responsible for.”

“That wasn’t me, I didn’t leave you! I was a fledgling myself, whether you remember or not.” Celadon’s spines snapped up, trembling with fury. “I lost you, I lost our clutchmates, the others in the nurseries, I lost our father, I lost Twist and Yarrow, the teachers who took care of us, almost everyone I knew.” She turned away, and her tail lashed angrily. “You are the only thing I’ve ever gotten back from that time.”

“It’s too late!” Moon snarled at her. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but the mix of anger and pain wouldn’t let him admit it. “I can’t be him again, I’m something else.”

“I don’t expect you to!” She rounded on him, baring her fangs. They glared at each other, then Celadon took a deep breath, forcing her spines down, deliberately calming herself. “I know you’re different now.” Reluctantly, she added, “Do you hate us so much?”

“I don’t hate you,” Moon said, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “I just don’t know why you want me here.”

She hissed, exasperated. “Because you’re part of us.”

“It’s too late for that, too.”

She watched him, her spines going completely flat as the last of the anger left her expression. Finally, she said, “Malachite wants to see you.” She tilted her head toward Stone. “And the line-grandfather.”

Stone set his teacup down. “Good.”

* * *

Celadon led them to the queens’ hall, where they had argued last night. Moon was assuming this was the queens’ hall for Malachite’s bloodline, and that Onyx and her daughters had a separate set as far away as possible.

In the day, shafts of light fell down from the well high overhead to light the carvings winding up the wall. Malachite waited for them, sitting to one side of the bowl hearth with several Arbora, including Lithe and Russet, behind her. Also present was Malachite’s warrior Rise, a few other older female warriors and, surprisingly, Shade. Shade was the only one who smiled when Moon walked in.

Moon knew enough by now to recognize the formal setup: the way the Arbora and warriors were dressed in the silky flowing fabrics of their good clothes, the tea set beside the hearth that no one would probably use, the arrangement of the seating mats and cushions. He just had no idea what it meant in context with his situation. You could have asked Celadon, he told himself, if you hadn’t been busy yelling at her.

Celadon moved past to sit near Malachite, and Moon and Stone took seats opposite the queens. Apparently, there was no older male consort who belonged to Malachite. Which meant Malachite hadn’t taken another after Moon’s father had been killed.

Malachite broke the silence first, saying to Stone, “Do you still plan to tell other courts about our crossbreed children?”

Shade twitched, startled, and looked anxiously from Malachite to Stone.

Unperturbed, Stone said, “Was I supposed to be reconsidering it?”

Malachite’s voice stayed level. “Answer me.”

Stone countered, “Are you still planning to steal Indigo Cloud’s consort?”

“You and I both know you had no right to take him.”

We could be here all day, Moon thought. If Malachite was one tenth as stubborn as Stone, this could go on for the rest of the turn. He said, “Isn’t it my fault, for agreeing to be taken?”

Everyone stared at him, as if they had all expected him to just sit silently. Stone hissed, “Shut up.”

“No, you shut up.” The swipe Stone took at his head was half-hearted and Moon ducked it easily. He kept his gaze on Malachite. “Isn’t it my fault?”

Malachite didn’t answer, though her tail made a slow lash. Celadon’s spines rippled in annoyance and she said, “You didn’t know any better. You—”

Malachite said, “Quiet.”

Celadon subsided reluctantly. Moon said, “I didn’t know any better. And all Indigo Cloud knew was what I told them. So if you don’t hold me responsible, then you can’t hold them responsible. They had every right to take me.”

There was a moment’s silence. Malachite’s tail did that slow lash again, that Moon couldn’t interpret. It occurred to him at that point that they could very well blame him for accepting Jade without his birthcourt’s permission. He should have bothered to find out what the punishment was for that, but at worst it would be exile from Opal Night, which wouldn’t leave him any worse off than he had been before. Though it would be somewhat ironic.

Then one of the older Arbora said, admiringly, “He argues like a mentor.”

Stone said, “He argues, period. Are you sure you want him?”

“Yes,” Malachite said, simply.

“Why?” Moon made his voice hard. He knew he was susceptible to her; he didn’t want to lose his resolve. “Do you have a court you want to sell me off to? You think another queen would ever want me, a feral solitary who’s already taken?”

Malachite stood, stalked forward three deliberate steps until she stood over him. Moon just looked up at her, refusing to let himself flinch away. His skin itched with the urge to shift. In a voice rough with fury, she said, “I know nothing of this queen or this court. Why did she take you if she thought you were a solitary?”

Stone half uncoiled from the floor, not quite pushing in front of Moon but making it clear he was there. “She took him because she likes him. I thought she would; that’s why I brought him to her.”

Moon said, “You can ask her when she gets here.”

Malachite stared down at him, her eyes as hard and opaque as dark glass. Then she stepped back. “I will.”

There were relieved hisses from the other end of the room.

As she moved away, Stone eased back down into a sitting position and gave Moon a look that was irritation mixed with relief.

Moon took a deep breath without making it obvious, feeling the skin of his back ripple, settling the spines he wasn’t wearing at the moment. He seemed to have won the point, or at least part of it. Time to push a little further. “Are you going to warn the groundlings about the Fell?”

Malachite’s spines shivered, but she didn’t answer immediately. She settled herself back into her place, and tilted her head to Celadon. Celadon said to Moon, “I’ve tried. I’ve visited them twice, but they’ve never heard of Fell before, not even as stories.”

They were very far west, but Moon found that strange. Even the peoples of the inland freshwater sea had heard of the Fell. Or at least Ardan had heard of them. But he had been a scholar as well as a collector; maybe the Fell weren’t common knowledge in this part of the west. He said, “If they don’t know anything about the Fell, it makes them even more vulnerable.”

There was a restrained stir from the Arbora, whether of agreement or censure, Moon couldn’t tell. Celadon said, “I can try again. But if they won’t listen to me, there isn’t much I can do.”

“Let me try.” Moon had no idea if they would let him leave the colony, but the chance of having something positive to do was too good to resist. “I’ve seen groundling cities destroyed by the Fell. I can tell them how it will happen, what the Fell will do to them, what to watch out for.”

The silence stretched. The Arbora and warriors stared at Moon again, shocked and a little incredulous. He realized they hadn’t heard this part of the story before. Maybe they wouldn’t believe him.

Stone said, reluctantly, “He’s right. He’s seen a lot of Fell. To put it mildly.”

Unexpectedly, Celadon turned to Malachite. “I would agree to take him with me to the city to try again. Even though the groundlings are stubborn, it’s cruel not to try to convince them of the danger. And if the Fell take the city, it will only give them a secure place to attack us and the rest of the Reaches.” She added, “But if we do this, we should go today. Before the Fell get any closer.”

Russet leaned forward, her expression worried. “With the Fell nearby, isn’t it too dangerous to let a consort leave the colony?”

Moon didn’t laugh, didn’t make a comment about all his turns outside a colony. He thought Stone’s sardonic expression said it all. Celadon flicked her spines uncomfortably, as if all too aware of the irony, and said, “I think we all realize that Moon is different.”

Malachite didn’t respond to Russet. She regarded Stone thoughtfully. “I assume the line-grandfather would accompany you.”

Stone said, “I would.”

“How do I know he won’t simply take you back to Indigo Cloud?”

“He knows I wouldn’t go.” Moon turned to look Stone in the eye. “And if he forced me to go, he knows I’d just come back.”

Stone’s expression promised another slap to the head in Moon’s near future. He said, “‘He’ knows the queens involved would rather fight this out than be reasonable.”

Malachite showed the tips of her fangs. “You mean give in to your demands.”

“Exactly.” Stone wasn’t intimidated. “The other courts are going to find out about your crossbreeds eventually.” Stone held her gaze for a long moment. “You’ll need an ally. Indigo Cloud could be one.”

Even through Malachite’s opaque expression, Moon could tell she wasn’t moved by that possibility.

Then Shade eased up to kneel beside her. “Can I go to the groundling city too? If my half-clutch-brother and the line-grandfather are going—”

Moon wasn’t sure what surprised him more, that Shade had dared to ask or Malachite’s reaction. Malachite ruffled Shade’s hair with an air of exasperated affection. “No, you may not go. Not until you are as old and wise as your half-clutch-brother.”

Moon stared, taken aback. He wanted to see the description as ridicule, but no one else was reacting to it that way.

Malachite’s gaze crossed his but she didn’t give any sign that she had noticed his reaction. Celadon pushed to her feet and said, “I’ll gather my warriors, if the consorts are ready to leave.”

As the warriors and Arbora started to stand, Moon got up and walked out to the passage at a reasonable pace, trying to make certain nothing he did could be interpreted as fleeing. It’s a trick, he thought. She just wants you to think that…that she wants you back, like she and Celadon said. He didn’t want to believe that. It was much easier to hate them for leaving him behind all those turns ago. Even if you know it’s completely irrational.

Stone stopped beside him and frowned. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“Nothing.” Moon gritted his teeth.

Stone might have persisted, but Celadon reached them and said, “You weren’t surprised to see Shade, and you didn’t ask who he was.”

She was trying to sound neutral, but Moon caught the hint of worry in her tone. “I talked to him last night.”

“Oh.” Celadon frowned, now clearly worried. “Did he come to see you?”

“No. He came for something he left behind, and I heard him.” She still looked uneasy, and he added, “I didn’t try to kill him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Now she was just annoyed. “That’s not what I was wondering. It’s just that he’s sheltered. He doesn’t understand how other courts would react to him—”

“He can’t help what he is,” Moon said. Shade was sheltered, but he wasn’t a fool, either. “And I think he does understand.”

He thought she would dismiss that immediately, but after a moment’s thought, she shook her head in regret. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I just want to think he doesn’t realize.”

Behind them, Stone sighed in irritation. “So are we going to this groundling city or not?”

* * *

They flew to the west, Moon, Stone, Celadon, and her escort of five warriors.

It was a bright sunny morning, the sky a clear blue only lightly dotted with clouds. Below them, the terrain grew more rocky, and the mountain-trees more isolated, until they stood out as individual islands, their giant canopies spread like clouds. Each tree was surrounded by outcrops and deep narrow gorges, overflowing with heavy green vegetation.

Finally there was only one mountain-tree in sight, a squat one with a canopy shaped more like a bush; Celadon guided them down toward it. They landed in the roots, on a rocky outcrop where a pool had formed to catch the water runoff from the tree’s knothole. Celadon told Moon, “This is the last good water before the plateau, and there’s usually game in this area. Are you hungry?”

“Not yet.” Moon folded his wings and stretched. The wind, with no mountain-trees to break it, was strong and gusty. “I can wait, if the warriors can.” He suspected she had broken their journey here for his benefit, to make certain the delicate consort wasn’t struggling to keep up with her warriors’ pace. He actually felt better than he had since arriving at Opal Night, a state which was probably directly proportional to the speed they were flying away from it, but he wasn’t going to mention that.

As the warriors went to drink from the pool, Celadon said, “Opal Night is not a bad court to live in, you know. Even Onyx’s bloodlines get along with each other.”

Or maybe this was why she had wanted to stop, for a chance to talk him into submitting to Malachite’s will. Moon snorted, deliberately provoking. “Isn’t that unusual for Raksura?”

Celadon refused to be provoked. “As you might imagine, Malachite doesn’t tolerate troublesome behavior. And Onyx may take every opportunity to test Malachite, but she doesn’t let her daughter queens squabble either. That’s the only thing they agree on.”

Moon wondered what life as a fledgling in Opal Night had been like. He thought of the sleek confidence of the young consorts of Onyx’s line, Celadon’s even temper, and Shade’s sunny disposition, and felt a surge of jealousy. Still trying to get an angry reaction out of her, he said, “You didn’t mind being raised with crossbreed Fell?”

She lifted her brows. “You think we weren’t? We were all in the nurseries together from the beginning. Most of us were too young to remember what had happened to the court, or much of the trip to the Reaches, but it was never hidden from us.” Her gaze went to the plains ahead, where the morning light was turning the tall grass into gold waves. “But still…The Arbora who survived the attack on the eastern colony talk about how happy the court was there. We’re not sad now, but it hangs over us, the gaps in our bloodlines.”

Moon had heard enough. He didn’t want to think about being part of that close-knit group of survivors, trusting each other and trusting Malachite, returning to the safety and security of Opal Night’s home colony. He started for the pool.

Celadon squinted upward. Stone hadn’t landed, and was circling overhead. “Is something wrong with the line-grandfather?”

“He doesn’t like to stop.” Moon hopped further down the outcrop, to a spot where the water overflowed the pool and tumbled down the slope into the gorge. He stepped onto a ledge where he could catch the spray, and cupped his hands for a drink. The water tasted of rock and moss.

When he stepped away from the fall, he immediately scented something musky and animal; against the mountain-tree’s sweet scent, it stood out like a sharp punch to the nose. An instant later he spotted it: a dark gray bipedal shape, armor-plated like a Tath but with a wide triangular head. It crept up a ridge of the outcrop, headed toward the warriors who were crouched at the edge of the pool, about forty paces above. They were facing away and hadn’t noticed it yet.

Moon couldn’t tell what its intent was; it couldn’t mean to take on all of them. But it was better to drive it off before it got any closer. He crouched and leapt, landed on the rock above it, flared his spines and wings. It reared back, startled, but bared its impressive rows of teeth threateningly. Moon showed it his larger and sharper set of fangs.

It growled to save face, and retreated rapidly back down the slope. It disappeared into the jungle filling the gorge, ferny branches shaking to betray its path. Moon relaxed and glanced around to see Celadon sat on the ledge next to the fall, watching him. The warriors had noticed the altercation, and all of them had flattened spines from embarrassment.

Celadon said, “They live in the bottom of the gorges around the trees in this area.” She tilted her head toward the warriors. “Just because they haven’t bothered us before is no reason not to be careful. A consort won’t always be around to save you.”

Moon wasn’t sure if she was mocking him or not. It felt like she was mocking him. Remembering Tempest’s reaction to his attempt to help her warrior on the way to Opal Night, he thought, Next time I’ll just let them be eaten. He climbed around the outcrop, then jumped off and flapped until he caught the wind.

Rising up to Stone’s level, he circled with him until Celadon and the warriors joined them again.

By late afternoon, the ground had started to rise toward the mountainous plateau that had been dominating the horizon for some time. As they drew closer, the shapes above it gradually resolved into the outlines of flying islands, rocky uneven clumps dripping with greenery. It was odd to see so many in one spot. The islands tended to move with the wind, or perhaps they followed the same lines of force that the flying boats used to travel; Moon wondered if the plateau somehow attracted them.

Closer, he realized the lines of the plateau weren’t entirely natural. A great figure had been carved out of the side, into the shape of the body of a groundling seated on a throne. The statue was huge, taking up half the side of the plateau. The proportions were distorted, making the body wider than it was tall, and a large section of the head was missing, but it was still an impressive sight.

And so was the city built into it. The statue’s chest and stomach, and the cliff faces to either side, had been carved out with balconies, windows, stairways, open galleries. The rock had been shaped into columns, pediments, as if these were the façades of buildings standing along a street instead of hanging out over empty air.

The plateau’s broad slopes were riddled with steep gorges, with the gleaming silver bands of streams winding along the bottoms, lined by lush foliage. The streams all fed into a large lake covering the statue’s feet. Along its banks, regular rows of greenery and trees revealed planting beds and orchards. Moon didn’t see any roads, just the occasional meandering pathway, and at first he didn’t see how the inhabitants approached their city.

Then he caught movement in the air. Below and to the right, slowly fighting the wind along the top of the plateau, was a flying boat. But it was so different from the others Moon had seen that it didn’t deserve the name. A huge bronze-colored air-filled bladder sat atop the blocky wooden shape of the boat, with the rigging curving up and around it. Aborted wings and fins made of taut fabric stuck out from various spots, attached to the ropes of the rigging so they could be moved for steering. Moon had never seen a more inefficient way of traveling through the air.

Banking close to it, Moon realized that the bladder seemed to be supporting the boat, not the other way around. That’s crazy. The other flying boats stayed aloft by using a fragment of the rock found at the heart of flying islands, that allowed them to float along the waves of invisible force that crossed the Three Worlds. This seemed like a much more difficult method.

The wooden cabin beneath the bladder was a complicated arrangement, with rounded bulges and open balconies, though no groundlings were visible. It had oval windows set with clear crystal, and he thought he could see movement within, but between the sun’s reflection and the distortion of the crystal, he couldn’t make out any detail.

Celadon dropped back even with him, calling out, “Don’t get too close! It worries them.”

He could imagine, as fragile as the thing looked. Moon followed her as she tipped her wings and slid away across the wind toward the statue-city.

Circling above the lake with Celadon, Stone, and the others, he thought it must be a very difficult place for ground predators or other groundling tribes to attack. Underground predators couldn’t tunnel through rock and usually avoided water. But it would be easy prey for the Fell.

Several more of the flying bladder-boats were docked atop the large flat ledge that formed the statue’s lap. They weren’t the only flying craft; contraptions with much smaller air bladders and platforms barely big enough for a groundling to stand in made their way up and down the cliff face, some secured by ropes to balconies or pillars.

Moon followed Celadon as she banked down and they headed for the bladder-boat ledge.

Celadon dropped down to light on the open space in the center. Moon followed her, and furled his wings to leave room for the others. The warriors held off, waiting for Stone to land and shift before they touched down. Moon shifted to groundling too. The cool breeze pulled at his hair and clothes and made a whispering sound as it streamed across the bladders of the tethered boats. The ledge was paved with green marble, facing three big archways cut into the rock of the statue’s chest, each bracketed with tall columns carved into spirals.

Inside the archways, several groundlings gathered, presumably to greet the visitors. Moon had wondered if they were climbers or diggers, and that was why they had built their city into the statue and the cliff. But the people peering out at them from between the columns didn’t have the claws or the broad strong shoulders of natural tunnel-builders. They were tall and willowy, with very pale skin tinged with gray, at least on their faces and hands; the rest of their bodies were bundled up in long brocaded coats. They had elongated eyes, high foreheads with prominent brows, and dark or silver-gray hair arranged in elaborate loops.

A woman came forward hurriedly, dressed in a silky coat in brilliant greens and blues. Stepping out from between the columns, she said, “Celadon, please come in out of the wind.” She was speaking Kedaic, one of the common trade languages in the Three Worlds.

“Thank you, Ennia.” Celadon glanced back to make sure the warriors had all shifted to groundling and followed the woman past the columns.

The archways opened into a high pillared hall, a market or gathering area. A painted tile fountain in the center shot water up toward the domed ceiling. Merchant stalls were scattered around the room, and Moon spotted bolts of fabric, colored glassware, and all sorts of metal trinkets. There were men and women everywhere, but they seemed to be more interested in talking in groups and staring at the Raksura than looking at the goods on display. Their attention was drawn first by Celadon’s brightly colored scales, and then by the unfamiliar appearance of Moon and Stone and the warriors. They seemed curious but not afraid.

Moon was fairly sure the Fell would change that.

Ennia said to Celadon, “One of our trading aircraft has just come back from a voyage to the far west. The cargo is being dispersed and sold, and those that speculated on its success have come to hear news of it.”

Celadon pretended interest as if that made sense to her, though Moon doubted it did. Raksura had little concept of the currencies that larger groundling settlements used for their trade.

Ennia led them to the far end of the big hall, then up a wide staircase to a broad gallery. Two groundlings waiting there slid open the heavy door at the top of the steps.

It led into a large sitting room. A bronze lamp with multiple rings hung overhead, the light coming from little glowing glass globes suspended from the metal loops. Benches padded with dark blue cushions and delicate bronze slope-backed chairs were grouped in a loose circle on a round thickly-woven carpet. Moon scented musky perfumes and the wood smoke overlaying rock and water and metal.

A small group of groundlings trailed in with them, and two slid the heavy bronze doors closed, shutting off the stairway and the noise from the market. Moon tried not to find that threatening, reminding himself that Celadon had been here before. But a lifetime of concealing what he was had made him extremely wary of shifting in front of groundlings, especially when they were staring at him like these people were.

Speaking Kedaic like their hosts, Celadon said, “Ennia, this is my…” She had to fumble for the right word. “My brother, Moon. And Stone, who is an important elder of the court of Indigo Cloud.”

Ennia smiled and sank gracefully into a chair. “My greetings to you. Please, sit. You did not tell us you had a brother, Celadon.”

Though for Raksura that was an incredibly inane statement, Celadon managed not to react. She said, “He has just come to visit us,” and took a seat on a bench across from Ennia. Celadon caught Moon’s eye and nodded for him to sit next to her. Raksuran etiquette dictated consorts sit behind queens at a formal visit, but he thought Celadon was wise to follow the groundlings’ customs. It would make them seem less different, and Moon felt they could use all the help they could get.

Three of the other groundlings, two men and an older woman, took seats as well though, unlike Ennia, they kept well back from the Raksura. Under the coats they all wore heavy garments, pants, long shirts and vests, all in rich colors, in fabrics that were either warm knits or heavy brocades. There didn’t seem to be much extra fat or meat on their skinny bodies, and they must need the heavy clothes against the wind and the constant cool of the rock walls. With this closer view of them, Moon realized it wasn’t just their eyes that were elongated; their heads, the long bones of arms and legs, their hands were all attenuated, even compared to Aeriat Raksura.

The warriors settled on a bench and the floor a few paces behind Moon and Celadon, jostling each other a little but not speaking. Stone ignored the whole group, wandering the perimeter of the room, apparently looking at the painted panels covering the walls, much to the consternation of the groundlings.

Moon felt the back of his neck prickle uneasily. Stone generally liked groundlings and sought them out on his travels for news and company. He had always been polite to every one Moon had ever seen him interact with. He tasted the air, trying not to be obvious about it.

Ennia watched Stone, her dark brows drawn together, then gave Celadon a bemused smile. Celadon was too self-possessed to react or to attempt to explain or excuse eccentric line-grandfathers to Ennia. After a moment, Ennia gave in and said, “I’ve sent someone for my father, so he should be here shortly. He’s always very pleased by your visits.”

“I am anxious to speak with him again,” Celadon said easily. “And I wanted my brother to see your city, and to meet and speak with you.”

“I see.” Ennia regarded Moon indulgently. “I’m sure our city must seem very strange to you. From my conversations with your sister, I know that you live very differently from we ‘groundlings.’”

“I’ve lived in groundling cities before,” Moon said. There was a faint startled stir from the warriors, who were probably not used to young consorts who spoke up in company, let alone groundling company. But the warriors would just have to get used to it; Moon was trying not to be impatient, but when Celadon finally broached the topic of the Fell, he wanted Ennia to realize he knew what he was talking about.

“Oh.” Ennia lifted her brows, considerably taken aback. “I had the impression your people were…reclusive.”

Moon wondered what word she had originally chosen and discarded. Her friends, family, servants, whatever they were, didn’t have as much control over their composure, and they were uneasily watching the Raksura like people trapped in an enclosed space with possibly vicious animals. Stone, who had continued his examination of the artwork and was behind them now at the far side of the room, seemed to make them particularly nervous. Moon said, “I’ve traveled more widely than most Raksura.”

Ennia leaned forward, interested. “You speak Kedashi very well.”

“It’s called Kedaic in the east.” Moon suspected Kedashi was a local variation. It would explain Ennia’s somewhat odd pronunciations. He thought about mentioning that in Kish, the territory where the language was most spoken, it was considered extremely rude to comment on anyone’s proficiency of speech, but he didn’t want to put them at odds, no matter how condescending Ennia was.

“Really?” Ennia frowned in consternation, clearly making some mental adjustment. “I had heard that but—”

The door at the back of the room opened and a groundling man swept through, three others trailing in his wake like suckerfish after a predator. He was shorter than Ennia, but a shock of short gray hair standing nearly straight up made him look taller. He wore a dark green brocaded coat trimmed with dyed leather and fur. The other groundlings in the room popped to their feet, and even Ennia stood to greet him, going over to take his hands. “Father, you see we have guests. I’m so glad you could spare the time to greet them.”

“Our air sentries reported their arrival,” the man replied. “Indeed, this time they were quite hard to miss.”

Moon bit his lip. He usually tried not to judge hastily based on behavior, since all tribes whether groundling, sealing, or skyling were different, but he could tell he was going to have a hard time liking these people. He still didn’t think they should be eaten by Fell, though.

Celadon took the opportunity to say quietly in Raksuran, “He is Havram, their leader. They call him an ‘arbiter’ in the trade language but I suspect that’s a mistranslation.”

Havram took Ennia’s arm, leading her back to her chair as if she might not know the way. She said, “Look, Father, Celadon has brought her brother Moon to see us. And—” She looked for Stone, who ambled across the room to drop down into one of the chairs, much to the nervous consternation of the groundlings he brushed past. “—Stone, who is an important official at another court.”

“Well, and what do you think of our city?” Havram said. He sat beside Ennia, evidently a sign for the rest of the groundlings to sit. Not giving Moon a chance to answer, he added, “You must be very impressed with our flying craft.”

Stone snorted quietly. Moon said, “They seem a little impractical, compared to others.”

It was Havram’s turn to lift his gray brows in mild astonishment. “Others?” He gave the impression of being too polite to show outright skepticism.

Ennia interposed, “Moon has traveled widely.” From her tone, he couldn’t tell if she believed him or not.

Havram said, “I see.” Small talk evidently dispensed with, he leaned back, watching them with a sharp gaze. “The people who saw your group fly in noted that there was something else with you. Some sort of large creature?”

Moon looked at Celadon, who twitched a spine in irritation. She said, “As some members of our species grow older, they grow larger.” She inclined her head toward Stone. “Stone is very old.”

Ennia blinked, surprised, but Havram’s gaze merely sharpened. He said, “Really? That seems a very odd thing to happen.”

“We are very odd people.” Celadon managed to smile without showing her fangs. “He can demonstrate if you wish.”

The other groundlings were hard put to control their reactions.

Havram apparently decided she wasn’t lying. He made a dismissive gesture. “A demonstration isn’t necessary.” He regarded Stone with a bland smile. “I see you will be a most intriguing guest.”

Stone leaned back in his chair, elbow propped on the bronze arm, eyeing Havram as if deciding whether he was too bony to eat or not. He said, “I’m more interested in your other guest.”

From the way the groundlings all stared at Stone, they must have assumed he didn’t speak or understand Kedaic. Ennia recovered first, exchanged a puzzled look with Havram, and said, “What other guest?”

“The Fell ruler,” Stone clarified. “He eaten anybody yet?”

Chapter Ten

Moon thought, sourly, Well, that could explain a lot. Why the Aventerans had been so reluctant to listen to Celadon’s warnings, for example. He felt a wave of tension pass through the warriors behind him, and Celadon cocked her head at Havram, her spines trembling with the effort not to rise. They were too late, and had been too late before Moon had even asked to come to the city; the Fell were already here.

Havram seemed to think Stone’s question was just an inappropriate joke. “Our guests are not in the habit of eating anyone. As far as we know.”

One corner of Stone’s mouth twitched in a brief smile, acknowledging the veiled insult. “You don’t know what he is, then.”

Ennia sat forward, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Stone said, “There’s a Fell ruler in your city, not far away from this room.”

Havram laughed, though he didn’t sound very amused. “Is this another attempt to convince us such creatures exist?”

Celadon’s spines twitched before she firmly pressed them down again. Havram didn’t understand the dangerous ground he was treading. Raksuran queens didn’t like to be called liars. Her voice hard, she said, “The last time we spoke, you were unwilling to acknowledge the danger, but you were not so contemptuous of my attempt to warn you. What has changed?”

Ennia said uncertainly, “My father meant no offense.”

Celadon didn’t bother to answer that. She asked Havram, “We exist; why do you doubt the Fell?”

Havram shook his head and smiled faintly. He’s too certain, too unwilling to listen, Moon thought. Either Havram was a stubborn bastard, or…The ruler’s already been planting suggestions. Confused, Ennia said, “But why do you think one of these creatures is nearby?”

“I can smell it,” Stone said, “in the draft around the edge of this room.” He nodded toward a small round opening at the top of the far wall. “That’s not outside air.”

Havram didn’t quite sneer. “Your senses are that acute?”

But Ennia said, “We do have a guest, a stranger who has never been here before. He came in with a cargo vessel from the deep west, to speak of trade contacts between Aventera and his city. But he was well known to the traders.”

Moon exchanged a look with Stone. Fell rulers had the ability to influence the minds of groundlings. They could do it to Raksura as well, though fortunately it seemed to take far more effort. Before the attack on the old colony, the Fell had done it to Balm, using her as a source of information about the court, though she had no memory of it and no idea what had happened. It had been a more exact way of learning the court’s plans than the divinatory visions of their crossbreed mentors. Moon asked Ennia, “How many traders were on the vessel?”

The skin of Ennia’s gray-tinged brow was furrowed with doubt. “Only five. There had been more, but they encountered disaster along the way, they said, and lost several members of their party to accident.”

Celadon hissed low in her throat. Moon said, “Fell rulers can make groundlings believe things that aren’t true, but they can’t do it to too many at once. It had to get rid of most of the group, so it could keep the others under control.”

Ennia smiled in relief. “But he isn’t with them anymore. If he had some power over them, they would have warned us when he left their presence—”

Moon held her gaze and willed her to listen. “They believe what he’s told them. They don’t remember that he killed their friends and forced them to take him on their ship. It should wear off, with time, but I bet he hasn’t been here very long.”

Ennia’s troubled expression deepened, and the other groundlings glanced uneasily at each other, but Havram was still skeptical. He said, “That is a very convenient power to have.”

Stone said, “You’ve spoken to him, spent time with him, but Ennia hasn’t.”

Havram turned to him sharply, suspicious. “Yes. How did you know?”

Celadon grimaced in realization. Moon looked at Stone, who rolled his eyes. Yes, we have to stop this. Right now. Before the ruler managed to increase his hold on Havram, and Havram handed the city over to the rest of the flight. Moon said, “Show us where he is, and we’ll explain.”

Celadon added, “If he is just a groundling trader, he has nothing to fear from us.”

Ennia started to speak, hesitated, and glanced sharply at Havram. Havram was obviously annoyed, and didn’t bother to conceal it. He said, “Find him yourself, if you can.”

Moon tightened his jaw, suppressing a frustrated hiss. Havram’s apparently natural arrogance combined readily with the Fell ruler’s influence; when Stone proved him wrong, he was just going to be that much more difficult to reason with.

Stone’s expression didn’t change. He got to his feet and started for the door.

Havram and Ennia followed them out of the chamber, and a few members of their entourages trailed along after them. Celadon told the warriors to stay behind, much to their dismay. Ennia ordered some of her groundlings to stay behind with them, also much to their dismay.

Stone stopped on the gallery. Moon had a bad feeling; the wind was entering the big market chamber below, right off the flying boat landing platform. If the Fell scent came from outside the city, carried by the wind…

But Stone turned toward an archway that led further into the mountain.

It opened into a big corridor and then a stairwell cut out of the rock, leading up. It wasn’t as cave-like as Moon had expected. The mottled gray walls were carved to look like plastered panels, and more bronze lamps hung from the curved ceiling, with the little glass balls glowing with light.

Behind him, Havram said, “So far this could be a lucky guess.”

Stone didn’t pause. “If that ruler thinks you’re an easy target, the others will come to this city and kill and eat everyone they can catch. That’s how Fell survive.”

Ennia said, “We are not an easy target,” but her expression was troubled. Havram squeezed her hand in reassurance.

In Raksuran, Celadon said to Stone, “Sending them into a panic won’t help. Just find the damn Fell.”

Stone stopped to regard her directly, forcing the rest of the party to abruptly halt. “I’m not part of your court, and even if I were, you wouldn’t have the authority over me, little daughter queen.”

Celadon bared her teeth at him. Moon hissed, “Stop it.”

Amazingly, it worked. Celadon stepped back, and Stone gave her one last hard glare, then continued.

The stairs opened into the middle of another wide corridor that angled back into the depths of the mountain. It was two levels high, with galleries running along the upper section. Doorways lined the galleries, and the lower level held archways opening into more passages. It looked like the connecting center of a number of living areas.

Groundlings walked along the upper and lower levels, or stood in groups and talked. Most were the tall, elongated Aventerans, but a few were shorter and wider, though with the same coloring, probably a related race from somewhere further west.

There were small fountains in the wall, designed so someone could hold a container under the spigot, meant to supply the inhabitants of these rooms with drinking water. An older woman sat on a blanket on the floor, with dozens of cups, a dipper, and a big copper pot, apparently selling the smoky-scented liquid inside. As Moon and the others appeared, everyone nearby stopped talking and stared.

Stone turned right without hesitation, moving purposefully down the corridor. Havram, about to make a comment, frowned instead. Ennia explained, “These corridors are where traders, air vessel crews, and visitors are quartered.”

Watching Stone, Celadon asked, “Does this trader know about us?”

That was a good question. Moon glanced at Ennia to gauge her tone as she answered, “I believe my father told him we had spoken to people calling themselves Raksura.”

“And what did it say?” Celadon sounded as if she had a suspicion already.

“It—He spoke to my father and some other traders.” Ennia made a throwaway gesture. “I’m not really certain…” Which probably meant the ruler had filled Havram’s head with suspicion about Celadon’s motives and possibly stories of Raksuran betrayals and perfidy.

Stone reached a set of wrought metal stairs leading to the second level gallery and started up. Moon didn’t need to look at Havram to know they were on the right track. He felt his shoulders tense and his back teeth itch as he scented the Fell taint, carried on the cool damp draft from above. It came from one of the doors along the gallery.

“Stone…” Moon lengthened his steps and started up the stairs after Stone, Celadon behind him. He’s too big. He can’t shift in here. Even with the corridor’s width and tall ceiling, the supporting rock-carved columns were too close together. “Wait, don’t—”

Don’t open the door, he meant to say, but didn’t get the chance. Just as Stone reached the top step, the nearest door burst open and a Fell ruler shot out.

In the east, Moon’s shifted form had been mistaken for a Fell ruler more times than he could count. This creature was about the same size and color as a young Raksuran consort, but it had smoother scales and webbed, leathery wings. Instead of spines, a rigid bone crest fanned out behind its head.

Moon shifted in reflex as groundlings screamed. Stone ducked aside but the ruler slammed into him and knocked him over the railing as it leapt from the gallery. Stone hit the rock floor below and landed in an ungainly sprawl.

Celadon dove over the stair railing, claws outstretched, but the Fell’s tail whipped out of her grasp. She landed in a crouch and sprang after it.

Moon started for Stone first, but Stone waved him away, shouting, “Go, go after it!”

Moon spun and bolted after Celadon. An older, larger queen would be more than a match for a ruler, but with a young queen like Celadon it might get the upper hand.

He rounded the corner ahead in time to see Celadon disappear down a side passage, leaving a trail of shouting, terrified groundlings. Moon went down the passage in three long bounds and tore around the corner after her.

At the end of the corridor, over the heads of fleeing groundlings, he saw that the wall opened into a big hollow shaft with chains hanging down. The Fell climbed up them, Celadon in close pursuit. Moon leapt up to the gallery, raced along it to the end, then flung himself off the railing and into the shaft. He caught the chains and climbed after Celadon.

After a few moments he realized one of the chains was moving down and the other was moving up, and that the wood and metal ceiling overhead was coming toward them. This is a cargo lift. The Fell must have realized it too, as it leapt to a stationary chain hanging to the side of the shaft, a guide line for the platform coming closer and closer. Celadon followed, leaping to catch the swaying chain, and Moon leapt after her. His weight swung it even further and it bounced him off the wall.

Above, the ruler glanced down, snarled, and climbed the last few paces to the platform, caught the edge and slung itself over. A chorus of groundling shrieks erupted from overhead.

Moon followed Celadon over the edge, his claws scraping painfully on the platform’s metal surface. Bails and boxes were stacked on it, with three terrified Aventerans huddled together and staring in wide-eyed terror. One bigger man lay sprawled near them, breathing in choked gasps, bleeding from claw rips across the chest.

Fortunately the Fell had been too busy fleeing Celadon to stop and tear them all apart; it climbed the chains away from the platform, toward the square of daylight in the side of the shaft another hundred paces or so up. Celadon followed it and Moon followed her.

It reached the opening and vanished outside. Moon drew breath to shout a warning, but Celadon stopped just below the lip of the square doorway and clung to the chain; her tail lashed in frustration. Good, Moon thought in relief. Celadon was experienced enough to realize the Fell would be waiting above the opening to drop on her as soon as she came out. It knew the two of them could catch it in the air, so it had to kill or wound them before it flew away from the city. As Moon climbed up below her, she bent down to him and mouthed the words, “I’ll go out first. When he drops on me, you get him from behind.”

Moon had a better plan. He shook his head and mouthed back, “I’ll go first; you get him from behind.” She glared at him, baring her teeth. He persisted, “You’re stronger.” Celadon could rip the ruler’s head right off; Moon didn’t have that kind of upper body strength. The ruler might have time to bite Celadon’s throat out while Moon was trying to get his claws through its hide.

Celadon hesitated, then grimaced in frustration and motioned him to go.

Moon climbed around her and clung to the chain above her head. The view out the square window was of empty sky and the outer edge of the lake. Moon took a deep breath and flung himself off the chain, caught the edge of the opening, and dove out.

It would have worked, if Moon hadn’t been a consort. The ruler saw his black scales and twisted away, realizing there was a queen about to hit him from behind. Moon spun in midair, clawed for the ruler. The ruler yanked his wings out of Moon’s reach and dove past him.

Celadon shot out of the opening, snarling in thwarted fury, and passed Moon, who angled his wings and rolled to get reoriented. They were just below the curve of the giant statue’s shoulder, balconies dotting its chest below them.

Celadon tried to cut upward to get above the Fell but a powerful gust of wind tossed all three of them like leaves. Then patches of the rock facing on the statue exploded in little bursts of dusty fragments. What—Moon had time to think, then Celadon shouted, “Projectile weapons!”

Moon saw one of the flying bladder boats hung in the air several hundred paces off. Two groundlings were out on one of its balconies, pointing long tube-like weapons at them. Right, that’s all this situation needed.

The ruler realized it too, and angled into a steep dive. Moon banked down and saw it was headed for a balcony a couple of hundred paces straight down where several groundlings stood. As Moon dove after the ruler, he caught a glimpse of Havram and Ennia among the shocked, upraised faces. He had time for the sour thought, Maybe this will finally convince Havram.

Groundlings scattered and Ennia shoved Havram out of the way, but the ruler landed on the balcony and snatched one of the smaller Aventerans.

Moon hit the paving in a half crouch, braced to leap on the ruler. Celadon landed a few paces away. The ruler’s captive was a young male Aventeran, his expression terrified and desperate, his hands already bloody from his instinctive grab at the clawed fist around his throat. Moon glanced at Celadon. She was breathing hard, and from her narrowed eyes it was from rage rather than exertion. The ruler’s intent was clear. If they came at him, he would gut the boy.

The ruler said easily, “How unusual, to see a consort outside a court, only one young queen for protection. So vulnerable.” He was speaking in Kedaic, the way Fell always spoke the language of their prey.

Moon showed his fangs. This close, more sheltered from the wind, the Fell stench was thick. “Free the groundling and you can have me,” he said, not that he thought it would work. Presumably the ruler would realize that Moon hadn’t chased him through the city because he was reluctant to fight.

Celadon’s spines rattled in threat. She said, “Take us both.”

“Perhaps later.” The ruler laughed.

Behind them, Ennia said, “Free the boy, and we will not pursue you. Or you can have trade goods, precious metal. You know how wealthy we are—”

The ruler ignored her. He said to Moon, “You must not be a particularly valued consort, for a queen to use you as bait.”

Celadon hissed, but Moon had heard it too often to be bothered anymore. He made himself look away from the boy, whose gray skin was going white from shock, and focus on the ruler. Moon said, “You had the groundlings fooled until you ran. Your flight will be disappointed. You could have handed this city to them, and instead you’re going to die in it.”

“I told the groundlings nothing but the truth. They have nothing to fear from me.” Fell never admitted to lies, almost as if they thought truth was whatever they said it was; arguing with one about what was true and what wasn’t was as pointless as talking to a well. “And perhaps I have accomplished everything exactly as planned. I am Ivades. What court are you from?”

Celadon flicked a glance at Moon, and answered, “What does it matter to you?”

He’s young, Moon thought suddenly. The question had been too direct, not subtle enough. Young and curious and overconfident, bored with pretending to be a trader among people who had never heard of Fell before and were easy prey. If this flight came from the east, maybe this ruler’s never been this close to a Raksura before, let alone a consort. Surely they could use that, somehow.

Then Ivades said, “Is it perhaps Opal Night?”

Moon went still. Celadon snarled, “How did you know that?”

Ivades’ tail lashed in amusement.

Putting contempt into his voice, Moon told Celadon, “It’s nothing. The groundlings told him about us.”

That had the desired effect. Ivades answered, “We know much about the machinations of the Raksura.” It looked from Celadon to Moon with that unnerving intensity, then its gaze settled on Moon. It was probably trying to affect Moon’s thoughts somehow, the way it could affect a groundling’s, but Moon didn’t feel anything. “We know Opal Night has more in common with us than it will admit.”

Moon had heard this before, and Ivades was nowhere near as frightening as Ranea. “I know—Aeriat Raksura and Fell were once the same species. Is that what you told the groundlings?”

Ivades was clearly enjoying this, though wasn’t distracted enough to loosen his grip on the boy’s throat. “But our relationship with Opal Night is closer than that.”

“It can’t be,” Celadon said.

“But you have Fell children. You are part of us.”

Oh, no, Moon thought, his heart sinking. This was worse than just Fell coming to the Reaches. The dead flight couldn’t have shared that memory. The progenitors and rulers had died without knowing that Malachite would keep their crossbreed children. Celadon demanded, “Who told you that? How did you know?”

Ivades seemed to realize he had said too much. Or perhaps he had said exactly as much as he had meant to. He whipped away, leapt to the top of the railing in a blur of motion, dragging the boy with him.

The groundlings shouted in dismay. Moon and Celadon lunged forward, but Ivades jumped and flung the boy off the balcony. Both vanished.

Then two large dark-clawed hands shot up over the railing. One crushed the Fell ruler, the other carefully held the groundling. Moon hissed in relief as he skidded to a halt. Stone must have been under the balcony the whole time, holding on by his foot-claws.

Moon neatly caught the groundling as Stone released him. The boy was limp but still breathing. Then he backed away as Stone used his now free hand to pull himself up by the balcony railing. Stone leaned forward and slammed the ruler into the paving, once, twice. The third time, the ruler shifted to groundling.

Stone let go and Celadon pounced to pin the battered body to the ground. Stone shifted to his groundling form and hauled himself over the railing to stand on the balcony. Moon said, “So that’s where you were.”

Stone dusted his hands. “I expected the damn thing to come out further down.”

The other Aventerans staggered to their feet, peered out from behind the columns. Moon shifted to groundling so hopefully no one would shoot projectiles at him, and handed off the unconscious boy to the first Aventeran brave enough to come forward.

He went to where Celadon had Ivades pinned to the floor, and crouched about a pace away. In groundling form, Ivades’ skin was white and smooth, his long dark hair a tangled bloody mess. Moon saw his eyelids twitch. “He’s still alive.”

Celadon shook the limp body. “Why do you want the crossbreeds?”

Ivades snarled, but it was weak and breathy. “To eat.”

Ennia and Havram came forward, staring down at the creature. Ennia’s gray skin was pale, and Havram’s face was a mix of fury and chagrin.

Celadon put more pressure on Ivades’ neck. “You can eat anywhere in the Three Worlds. How did you know to come here? How did you find out about Opal Night?”

Ivades made a noise of bitter amusement, choked out dark-colored blood, and died.

* * *

Celadon’s warriors had been perched below the balcony with Stone, waiting for a chance at the Fell. There was some hysteria from the Aventerans when they climbed onto the balcony, but a few sharp words from Ennia calmed them down.

As Celadon explained the necessity of removing the ruler’s head and burying it somewhere, Moon went inside to look for the injured groundling boy. He found him in a large sitting room with a colorful mosaic floor, lying on a couch with several groundlings gathered around. A man pressed a cloth to the bleeding scratches on the boy’s neck, and a woman crouched anxiously beside him.

“Is he all right?” Moon asked. The boy blinked up at him, then his eyes widened in recognition. He had been staring at Moon’s face through the entire tense conversation with the ruler, and must have seen enough to recognize him in his other form.

The man who was tending the boy, presumably a healer, eyed him sharply and said, “It depends. Are your claws poisonous?”

Moon set his jaw and managed not to hiss. It was good to know the groundling world hadn’t changed any. “No, and if they were, it wouldn’t matter, because I’m not the one who clawed him.”

The woman said fiercely, “They offered themselves in my son’s place. None of the rest of you did.”

Moon decided Aventeran gratitude was even more uncomfortable than ingratitude, and retreated to the balcony.

Out there, Ivades’ corpse still lay on the paving, but someone had tossed a blanket over it. From the outline, the head was still there. Havram faced Celadon and Stone, while Ennia stood by. Some of the other groundlings gathered at a wary distance, but one stood next to Havram, a young man dressed in the same rich style. This didn’t look good.

His voice tight as wire, Havram said, “Livan is an archimaster. He has never heard of this barbaric practice.”

“Livan has never heard of the Fell.” Celadon’s whole body was tense, her spines trembled with the effort to stay flat, and she looked almost more angry than when facing down the ruler. “So his opinion on the best way to dispose of their remains is irrelevant at best.”

“What?” Moon asked Stone.

In Raksuran, Stone replied wearily, “That’s their magic-maker, here to tell everybody how this is all our fault.”

“What?” Moon repeated.

“Perhaps you should go for now,” Ennia told Celadon. “Later, after we speak of this—”

“Just go,” Havram interrupted. “And stop trying to involve us in your disagreements.”

Stone made an exasperated noise. He looked from Celadon to Moon and said, “Have you two seen enough? Are you happy now? Can we leave?”

Moon was more than ready to get out of this place. He was almost as tired of Ennia’s attempts to pretend all was well when she clearly knew better as he was of Havram’s obstinacy.

Celadon growled in her throat. “Yes, we can go.” She stepped over to Ivades, tossed the blanket aside, planted her foot on the corpse and ripped its head off with one twist. She straightened up and said to Ennia and Havram, “The Fell will come. I hope at least some of your people survive.”

They took flight from the balcony, leaping off it to fight the wind.

* * *

Celadon guided them over the plateau, out of sight of the city and its patrolling bladder-boats, to one of the flying islands. It was a small one, only a few hundred paces long and wide, and almost buried in wind-blown greenery. There was an old ruin on it, but it was just a few roofless stone walls covered in vines. One side was open to a sheer cliff where the rest of the structure had fallen away when the island had broken apart. Moon wondered if the people of Aventera knew about the stone at the heart of the islands that contained the magic to keep them aloft. He doubted it, since they used the awkward bladder-boats for air travel.

They landed, and the warriors busied themselves finding dry wood for the crude firepit already constructed against the outer wall of the ruin. Apparently this was where Celadon had stayed on her previous visits to the city. One of the warriors told Moon, “There’s a better ruin on one of the other islands, but it has flying snakes.”

Moon nodded absently, then realized that the warrior had been apologizing for the lack of accommodation. Moon had slept in much worse places, but it was always interesting to be treated like a real consort.

Once a fire was built, Celadon sent the warriors away to bury the ruler’s head on the plain and to hunt. Then she sat down beside the hearth with Moon and Stone. She looked weary, dispirited, and worried. To Moon, she said formally, “Thank you for insisting we go to the city again. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t know…about this.”

Moon shrugged uncomfortably. He wasn’t particularly proud of his performance in the city. He felt it would have turned out better if he had been more persuasive, if he could have given more examples of how the Fell preyed on groundlings. The whole thing had seemed to start out well and then devolve into a disaster almost before he noticed. Not that that’s unusual. But there was nothing they could do about it now. “You were right, about attacking the ruler. You should have gone out first. It wouldn’t have been expecting me to follow you.”

She gestured that away. “That wasn’t your fault. Next time we’ll both know better.” She hesitated. “It’s very odd, to think of fighting Fell with a consort’s help.”

Moon wanted to talk about the more important point. “If Malachite and the warriors killed all the rulers from the flight that attacked the colony in the east…”

Celadon said, “They did. All the rulers would have died, and they must have believed that Malachite also meant to kill the crossbreeds. There is no way another Fell flight could know she took them to the west with her,” she finished, her expression grim. “Someone would have had to tell the Fell afterward. Someone from our court.”

Stone said, “Then it looks like you’ve got a problem.”

Celadon met his gaze. “It wasn’t one of the crossbreeds. If they had heard the Fell speak in their heads, they would have told us.”

“They might not know,” Moon pointed out. “We know the Fell rulers share memories from flight to flight, but we don’t know how they do it. Or if it would work differently between rulers and crossbreed Raksura. Once this flight got close enough, the rulers could have sensed the crossbreeds without them knowing.”

Celadon frowned, thinking it over. “That could be it.”

Stone gave Moon an exasperated look. “That doesn’t explain why the flight came here in the first place.”

“Because they’re Fell.” Celadon gestured impatiently. “They go everywhere looking for groundlings to eat.”

“And they like soft eastern cities best. It’s not like there’s any shortage of groundlings back there.” Stone rubbed his forehead. “I don’t have any answers. I’m just trying to get you to realize these are important questions.”

“Yes. Yes, they are.” She looked away, letting out her breath in a long sigh. “I just don’t know what we should do.”

Neither did Moon.

Stone just groaned under his breath and moved over to lie down on a soft patch of grass. “I need a nap. Wake me when the food gets here.”

Chapter Eleven

Moon and Celadon and her warriors left the flying island at dawn the next morning. Stone stayed behind, telling Celadon that he wanted to scout the area, to try to find the resting site of the Fell flight. Moon just hoped he was careful.

Before they left, Stone took Moon aside to tell him, “You watch your back in that colony. Don’t trust any of those people.”

Fortunately, Celadon didn’t overhear.

It was a bright clear day which made for an uneventful flight, giving Moon plenty of leisure to worry, come up with various plans, and discard them. It was late afternoon by the time they reached the colony and he was no better off than he had been when they started.

But as they came over the ridge and within sight of the lower portion of the split mountain-tree, Moon hissed in surprise. Nestled between the wall and the slanting bulk of the trunk was what appeared at first glance to be a sailing ship out of water. It was a flying boat, a real one, a wind-ship of the Golden Isles.

At first Moon thought he was looking at either the Indala or the Valendera, but it was smaller than either, only fifty or so paces from bow to stern. It was tethered to the rocks and broken pillars below the colony’s landing platform, the long lacquered hull swaying in the wind, the fan-shaped sails furled and folded up into the mast. Several crew members stood on the deck, watching his approach. They were definitely Golden Islanders, all slim, most a little shorter than the average Arbora, with the distinctive golden skin. The sailors wore pants cropped at the knees and loose shirts, with scarves to contain their long white hair.

This had to be Delin’s ship, the one that had traveled with Stone’s group of warriors and Arbora, back from the Golden Isles. But what’s it doing here?

Moon dove for the ship. When he was close enough he tilted his wings to slow down and dropped lightly onto the deck. He furled his wings and shifted to groundling. Before he could speak, Chime darted from the steering cabin and flung himself at Moon.

Moon caught him, stumbled back a step as Chime hugged him tightly enough to stop his breath. “Are you all right?” Moon croaked out, startled. “What happened?”

“Me?” Chime let him go and stepped back, badly flustered. “The warriors here said you were sick!”

“What?” The word must have gotten around that Lithe had been called to help him the night Stone arrived. “I wasn’t sick, I was—” He really didn’t want to explain that right now. “Where’s Jade? What are you doing here?”

“She’s inside the colony, meeting with their queen.” Chime waved his arms. Past him, Moon saw three other familiar faces. In groundling form, Root, Song, and Floret hurried across the deck toward them. “What do you mean, what are we doing here? We came to get you.”

“But Jade sent Stone—”

“Because she couldn’t fly,” Floret said as she reached them. “Then the nice old groundling said he’d take her on this boat—”

“She means Delin,” Chime interposed. “We got here this morning, then the Raksura here wouldn’t tell us where you were, or where Stone was—”

Moon interrupted, “We were with Celadon. Is Jade meeting with Onyx or Malachite?”

“I don’t know.” Chime looked past him, frowning. Moon glanced back to see that Celadon had followed him down and now stood perched on the railing, shading her eyes to look up at the mast with its fan-folded sails. Her warriors must have gone ahead into the colony. “Who’s Celadon?”

“She’s my clutchmate.”

“Oh,” Chime said, startled and for some reason sounding pleased. “That’s good.” Song and Floret exchanged a relieved look.

Moon was in too much of a hurry to wonder about their odd reaction. “I’ll be back. I need to find Jade.”

He shifted and bounced back to the railing to land next to Celadon. “What is this thing?” she asked, looking down at the Islander crew, who stared at her with equal curiosity.

“Jade’s here.” Moon hoped he sounded mostly calm. “My queen, from Indigo Cloud.”

Celadon quirked her spines, bemused. “She travels on this contraption?”

“Just this time. She couldn’t fly; she was wounded.” Moon crouched and leapt across and down to the landing platform. The entrance doors already stood open, and a few Arbora and warriors gathered there, watching the flying boat as if they wanted to examine it more closely but weren’t certain of their welcome. As they hurriedly made way for Moon, Celadon caught up with him. She said, “I take it her arrival is a good thing.”

He remembered he hadn’t said anything to Celadon about Jade specifically, just that he wanted to leave Opal Night. “Yes.”

She watched him a moment, as if undergoing some inner debate. Abruptly she made a decision. “It’s probably Onyx who agreed to meet her. Come on.”

She led the way from the greeting hall and took the same passage that Rise had shown them when Moon had first arrived. As they passed the big opening into the central garden well, Moon heard voices and caught Jade’s scent just before they reached the queens’ greeting chamber.

The room was better lit than it had been that first night, glowing stones catching highlights in the carved images of the warriors and the queen arching across the ceiling. But all Moon could see was Jade, with Balm, seated across from Onyx and an array of Opal Night daughter queens and warriors.

Balm saw him first. At her startled intake of breath, everyone looked up.

Jade whipped around, then pushed to her feet. Her gaze went from Moon to Celadon, and her spines started to lift. Celadon’s started to lift in response.

It finally dawned on Moon why Chime and the other warriors had been so disturbed to see him with another queen. Exasperated, he said, “She’s my clutchmate.”

Jade’s spines froze. She looked from Celadon to Moon again, searching for that bloodline resemblance that only queens could see. The hard line of her jaw softened and her spines lowered. Celadon lowered her spines in response, with a tail twitch of amusement. She said, “I’m Celadon, daughter queen to Malachite of Opal Night.”

Jade said, “Jade, sister queen of Indigo Cloud.” Then she added, “I would like to speak to my consort in private.”

Onyx’s spines and tail twitched with irritation at the interruption. “He is no longer your consort.”

Jade’s lip curled, but before she could respond, Celadon said to Onyx, “And he’s not yours to order.” She glanced at Moon, then inclined her head to Jade. “Come to our consorts’ hall and you can speak to him there.”

Onyx lashed her tail but didn’t object.

Balm stood to accompany them, and gave Moon’s wrist a quick squeeze as she stepped past him. They followed the two queens through the empty passages, and Moon realized he had no idea what he was going to say to Jade, or what Jade was going to say to him.

“I’m surprised Onyx greeted you,” Celadon said to Jade. Moon was surprised, too. Jade had managed a bigger dent in Opal Night’s impenetrable surface than Tempest had, and in much less time. Celadon continued, “Onyx hasn’t wanted to involve herself in… this situation. She refused to greet the Emerald Twilight queen who brought Moon.”

“I think it was our flying boat,” Jade answered with a trace of wryness. “She was so curious, she had to ask about it.”

A few Arbora lurked in the passage, but the consorts’ hall itself was empty. Celadon told Moon, “I have to tell Malachite what we discovered in the city.” She glanced at Jade. “Don’t be long.”

Jade gave Celadon a nod and a noncommittal expression. Balm followed her out, and Moon found himself facing Jade. His heart pounded so hard he knew she could hear it.

Her expression was worried, the small blue scales above her brow furrowed with concern. “They said you were ill.”

He shook his head. “I just didn’t eat or sleep much for a while and it caught up with me.”

She lifted her brows. “Didn’t eat or sleep?”

“It was an accident.” He hoped that was the last time he had to explain that to anyone. “Stone said you were hurt, fighting a snatcher. Did your wing heal?”

“It’s fine now.” She shrugged the joint to demonstrate, but bit her lip as if holding back a wince.

“Let me see.”

She turned, and he stepped close to look, lifting her frills and flattened spines out of the way. The heavy joint that attached the folded weight of the wing to her back was lumpy instead of smooth and felt a little too warm, though the scales weren’t broken. She must have shifted back to her winged form too soon. He touched the lumpy spot carefully. “It’s still swollen along the bone here.”

Jade turned her head so he could see her profile. She was looking down, eyes hooded by the edge of the feathery protective membrane that substituted for eyelashes in the shifted form. “It was stupid. I let the thing get too close.”

Her voice sounded even, but he sensed the tension in her body, humming through her scales. He had missed Jade with his heart and every other part of him, but it hadn’t occurred to him that she might have missed him the same way. And if he stayed where he was a moment more, they might end up wrapped together on the floor, no matter what Celadon and his Arbora chaperones thought.

As attractive as that possibility sounded, he suspected it wouldn’t help the situation with Malachite any.

When Jade reached up to touch his hand, he dropped her frills and stepped back. “Were the hunters all right?” His voice came out mostly even.

Jade turned slowly, watching him. “Yes. Frightened, but hopefully they’ve learned to be more careful.” She looked down, still worried. “So… do you like your birthcourt?”

“No. Some of them. I don’t know.” He didn’t mean to say it, but the words came out anyway. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

Jade didn’t seem surprised by that revelation, or angry, or anything that he expected. She sighed, her expression turning unhappy and resigned. “I know. That’s why I was so anxious to get here. Before she died, Flower told me you didn’t really trust us yet, that you were just… playing along. She said every time we proved to you that you could trust us was important, but that it would take a long time to make a real difference. She said it might be turns before you really saw yourself as one of us.”

“I thought I was…” Moon had to stop and clear his throat. It was brutally hard to be honest about this. “I thought I’d gotten better at it.” He was starting to realize that maybe he didn’t actually know the difference between trusting people and just pretending to trust them while bracing for the betrayal.

Jade smiled a little. “I think you have.” She shook her frills, as if shaking off the uncomfortable subject. “We had a plan to steal you. I take it that’s not necessary?”

Moon’s jaw dropped. “To steal me?”

“Yes. Delin volunteered to help, so it involved sending the flying boat off in one direction to distract them. We meant for Stone to have a part in it too, but I wasn’t sure where he was or if he’d managed to see you.”

Moon couldn’t believe she was serious, except apparently she was. “It sounds complicated.”

“Well, I had several days to come up with it, sitting around on the boat. And Chime and Balm made a lot of suggestions. It may have gotten a little out of hand,” she admitted.

“Is that why you sent Stone on ahead?”

“No. I was afraid that if I was too late, you’d give up and leave.”

So she had seen that, too. Moon was torn between relief that he didn’t have to conceal it or find a way to tell her, and guilt for feeling it in the first place.

Watching his expression carefully, Jade nodded to herself. “I didn’t think another court would understand that you aren’t like an ordinary consort. You wouldn’t be afraid to just fly away on your own, leave the Reaches behind.” She settled her spines again. “In one way it was a relief. I knew they couldn’t treat you too badly, or you’d just leave. But if you did, I had no idea where you’d go, or how I’d find you.”

He took a deep breath. “I thought about it. But I didn’t want to give up, just yet.”

“Well, that’s good.” Jade’s tail moved restlessly, betraying her nerves.

“How are Frost and Thorn and Bitter?” Moon asked, because he wanted to know and it was a less fraught subject. “Did Frost make trouble?” The last time Moon had left for any length of time, Frost had kept the nurseries in chaos with dire predictions.

Jade said, “She did at first, but I told her that another queen had stolen you and I was going to fight her for you, and she was happy with that. Thorn and Bitter seemed to be withholding their approval until I actually brought you back.” She added, “Your birthqueen hasn’t met with me yet, but your clutchmate seems reasonable. Have they tried to make you accept another queen?”

“No.” Moon absently scratched the back of his head, still trying to get his mind around the fact that Jade had come up with an elaborate plan to rescue him. “I don’t think they’ve thought that far ahead. They just keep saying they wanted to see me.”

“What a strange thing to say.” Jade mocked him gently.

Moon heard someone rustle outside in the hall, and remembered they didn’t have much time. “I need to tell you what’s going on here.”

She frowned. “That sounds ominous.”

“It is.”

* * *

They sat down on the furs, and he told her about the crossbreeds, the Fell, and what the ruler in Aventera had said.

Jade listened with growing consternation. “I can’t believe your birthqueen kept the crossbreeds. I can’t believe she managed to get the court to accept them. She must be… very strong-willed.”

Moon agreed. “That’s one word for it.”

“But if the Fell can hear them…”

“If they can, I don’t think it’s on purpose.” Jade gave him a look, and he said, “I know, but…” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know. The point is, we have to stop the Fell here. If they take Aventera, they’ll head into the Reaches.”

“Yes, but I can’t bring the court into this. There’s just not enough of us to fight off another Fell flight, even if we’re acting in concert with another court. We can’t afford to lose more warriors. We’re barely large enough to survive as it is.” She made an annoyed gesture. “Please don’t repeat that to your clutchmate or your birthqueen. I’m going to have trouble enough getting you back without them thinking they’re sending you off to starve.”

He hissed in annoyance. “Of course I won’t repeat that. And the court won’t starve. I can bring in enough game to feed a lot of Raksura.” And Ember can’t, he didn’t add. He didn’t want to mention Ember, since Jade hadn’t, but the other consort’s presence in Indigo Cloud was hanging on him like a weight. There was something else he had to mention, though. “So you still want me back, even though I have half-Fell relatives?”

“It’s not your half, that’s all that matters.” Distracted, Jade tapped her claws on the wooden floor. “I have an idea.”

That was a relief. “What?”

She hesitated. “I’d better save it for the meeting with your birthqueen.”

Before he could press her to tell him, Balm stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat. She said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a warrior here who says if you want to speak further to Onyx, you need to go now.”

Jade’s spines twitched in annoyance. She told Moon, “Better warn Delin about the Fell.”

Moon agreed, still reluctant, and Jade and Balm left to return to the awkward meeting with Onyx. Moon wondered if Celadon would help Jade or argue against her, or just stay neutral. He still wasn’t sure how Celadon felt toward him, or how he felt toward her.

As soon as the queens had gone, Russet and a few other Arbora came in. Russet said, “Would you like something to eat? Or perhaps to rest?”

Moon was beginning to share Stone’s opinion of interfering Arbora. He said, “No,” and walked out before they could argue with him.

Moon returned to the colony’s main entrance. The flying boat still had an audience, the Arbora sitting on the rocks below it and the warriors clinging to the crags of the ridge or lying on the broad branches of the slanted mountain-tree. Ignoring them, Moon shifted and reached the ship’s rail with a couple of bounds.

Chime and the others were still out on deck, and now Delin was with them. As Moon landed and shifted back to his groundling form, Delin came forward eagerly. “So you are well! When we arrived at Indigo Cloud and heard you had been carried off, we were very worried.”

Delin was elderly but had all the determination and stubbornness of his grandson Niran, and that was saying something. His hair, beard, and mustache were silky white, a contrast against gold skin weathered by many long voyages on his family’s wind-ships. He had a pad of paper tucked under one arm, with a half-completed sketch of Opal Night’s split mountain-tree and the wall and valley. “I’m glad you’re here,” Moon said, and was a little surprised to discover how much he meant it. It would be a relief to have someone around who understood about Raksura but wasn’t one. “Can we talk somewhere?” Delin also knew a great deal about the Fell from an Islander scholar who had made a study of predators. That particular scholar hadn’t survived his obsession with various groundling-eating species, but he had passed along a lot of his knowledge before he died.

Delin eyed him sharply, then motioned for him to follow. “This way.”

As Delin led them across the deck, Chime asked anxiously, “Did you see Jade? What did—Uh, I mean, how did—”

“It’s fine.” Moon hoped that was enough of an answer for now. “She’s trying to talk to them about getting me back.” He had to add, “So the plan to steal me is off for now.”

Chime twitched, embarrassed. “Oh, she told you about that.”

“It was a good plan,” Song said from behind them. “It’s almost a shame to give it up.”

Delin took them down the hatch near the deck’s steering cabin, into the ship’s hold. There were multiple chambers down here, and cargo space for storing water jars and food. They went from the passage into a long room the ship’s crew used for eating. There was a low table down the center with stools, and in an attached cubby was a small metal cooking stove carefully insulated from the wooden floor and walls with thin sheets of slate.

Delin chased out two women who were talking at the table and a man who was chopping up root vegetables, then gestured for the Raksura to sit. In Raksuran, he said to Moon, “I have been learning your language, somewhat.” His accent was terrible, but he managed to make the words understandable; Moon was impressed. “But if it is a complicated subject, we should perhaps speak in Altanic.”

“Wait,” Chime said. He jerked his head significantly toward Root. “Is it private? You know what he’s like.”

Root hissed at Chime. “I won’t tell anyone.” He turned to Moon in appeal. “Don’t make me leave! We’ve been wondering what happened to you, and if you were all right, and—”

“Root, you can stay.” The problem was that Chime was right; Root did have a tendency to blurt out whatever was on the top of his mind. And he also had a tendency to say things that were true but that no one particularly wanted said aloud. “Just don’t say anything in front of anyone from Opal Night. I don’t want them to know I told you.”

Root nodded, solemn and serious. “I won’t.”

Song pressed Root’s hand. “Just don’t say anything.”

Moon turned to Delin. “There’s a part of this story that other Raksuran courts can’t know. Will you promise not to tell anyone about it?”

Delin considered this seriously. “What I learn I put into my books. But they are written in the old language of the Golden Isles, and not a trade language. If it is nothing that directly affects my people, I will give my bond not to speak of it to any Raksura, excepting yourselves.”

Moon thought that was good enough. He told the story again, the same way he had told Jade, leaving out any of his personal feelings, or trying to. When he was finished, Delin looked thoughtful and all the Raksura aghast.

“They kept the crossbreeds?” Horrified, Floret spoke for all of them. “Why? Why would they even…? How could they think…?”

“I don’t know, but they did.” Moon rubbed his eyes wearily. He had eaten with Celadon and the warriors before they left the flying island this morning, and it hadn’t been a particularly tiring flight, but the conversation with Jade had left him emotionally raw.

“And one is even a mentor?” Chime clutched his temples, as if thinking about it hurt his head. “They were raised as Raksura, so they act like Raksura.”

“Would that work?” Song said, incredulous. Root was obeying the injunction not to talk, but was listening intently. Probably committing everything everyone said to memory to remind them of it later.

“Apparently it did.” Chime shook his head.

“But how?” Floret still sounded horrified. “It’s not like you could take a groundling baby and raise it as a Raksura. It couldn’t shift—”

“But it would speak Raksuran,” Moon interrupted, tired of hearing about it, “and it would know what you mean when you flick your spines or move your tails, and know all your stories, and how to act. It would do everything you do except shift. It would be more Raksuran than me.”

“Well, yes, but…” Floret frowned, confused and upset. “Let me think about it.”

Song said, reluctantly, “But it wasn’t a good idea in the end, was it? If the Fell can hear what the crossbreeds think, even if the crossbreeds don’t know about it like you and the daughter queen believe, that’s bad, very bad. We don’t know how much the Fell can find out from them.”

Chime turned to Delin. “What do you think?”

Delin had been lost in thought through the entire conversation. “I wonder where the Fell got the idea to make crossbreeds.”

Chime said, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Moon said, “Malachite said the Opal Night mentors were trying to find out why the Fell wanted crossbreeds, but there was nothing in the histories about it.”

Delin said, “The one thing we know, that almost everyone knows, about the Fell is that they are parasites. They take everything from other species. They descend on a city or dwelling place, kill and eat the inhabitants, steal their clothing, their treasures, live in the ruins of their homes, until they grow bored and hungry and move on. They make nothing of their own. No one has ever found any evidence that they even write down their own language, or keep any kind of histories. Perhaps not even oral histories. The scholar Venar-Inram-Alil was a great fool in some ways, but he traveled a long distance to talk to survivors of Fell attacks, and to look at the remains of the places they lived, and he believed they were creatures of the moment, like animals, who thought little or nothing of their past or future.” He spread his hands. “Where would such creatures get so radical a notion, to not only crossbreed with their most deadly enemies, distant relations or not, but to keep the children alive and raise them.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “It doesn’t surprise me that Raksura re-captured the crossbred children and raised them as their own; it astonishes me that Fell thought to create them in the first place.”

Chime nodded slowly. “It’s strange if one Fell flight does it, it’s more strange if two… They could have got the idea from each other, the way they pass knowledge between flights, but that still doesn’t explain where the idea came from in the first place.”

“Maybe they got it from groundlings,” Song said.

As if he couldn’t contain himself a moment longer, Root burst out, “They steal everything else from groundlings, maybe they stole that too!”

“But what groundlings? And why would Fell listen to groundlings?” Floret protested. “That’s crazy. Fell eat each other. They don’t think other species are even people.” She made a helpless gesture. “I would have said they don’t think we’re people, except for how they keep trying to breed with us now.”

Song said, darkly, “Just because they want to breed with us doesn’t mean they think we’re people.”

Everyone stared at her, but Moon felt she had a point. Delin absently tugged at his beard, winding the glossy hair around his fingers. He said, “Chime, you know much of your people’s history. There is nothing in your lore about another species attempting to communicate with the mentors?”

“Not that I know of. And I think I’d remember it if I’d ever run across it in the libraries.” Chime eyed him. “You’re thinking that if some other species is giving the Fell ideas, it tried to do it to us at some point, too?”

“It seems a logical thought.” Delin shrugged, realized he had more than half his beard wrapped around his fingers, and shook his hand free. “Our records show that after a time when they seemed to be dying out, the Fell have now been growing more and more virulent through the eastern lands and seacoasts, and this matches Stone’s recollections. I wonder if they have somehow changed, and these attempts to crossbreed are part of it.”

“They’ve been getting worse, and now they’ll come here, to the Reaches,” Chime said glumly. “I mean, what else is all this for? They want to make the flights more powerful with crossbreeds and build up their numbers and then start attacking the courts here.”

The others twitched uneasily at the thought. “Pearl thinks—” Floret started to say, then shot a glance at Moon that was half guilt and half defiance. Everybody knew Floret was still technically in Pearl’s camp, though since Jade and Pearl’s arguments had been mostly focused on crops and clutching and drains and the other mundane issues concerning the court, it hadn’t mattered as much. Moon made a tired gesture for her to continue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Delin hastily scribble a note. This trip must have been a jewel mine of Raksuran behavior for Delin’s studies.

Floret gave a little shrug, instinctively settling the spines she didn’t have in groundling form. She continued, “Pearl thinks the Fell haven’t attacked the Reaches in such a long time because they know the only thing all the courts would ever agree on is banding together to kill them. It was different in the east, with the few courts that are there being so spread out, with such separate territories. But the courts here feel all the Reaches belong to Raksura, even if we only hunt our own territories. An attack on one court would seem like an attack on them all.”

“She’s probably right,” Moon said. He couldn’t see anything else bringing the Raksuran courts together.

Before Delin could comment, they heard footsteps in the corridor. A young woman ducked her head in and said, “Grandfather? I’m sorry to interrupt, but there are strange Raksura up on the deck who say they want Moon to come back into the colony.”

“Why?” Chime demanded before anyone else could. “What do they think we’re doing to him?”

Moon set his jaw and didn’t growl. He didn’t have time for Opal Night’s machinations right now. “I’ll talk to them.”

He left the cabin, the others trailing along behind. The warriors couldn’t be here to tell him that Opal Night had agreed to let him return to Indigo Cloud; he would be surprised if Jade had even managed to meet Malachite yet. As he climbed the stairs to the deck, he was half-expecting to see Rise. But it wasn’t her. Five warriors waited there, and he was fairly certain he had seen them with Onyx at the ill-fated dinner.

They were still in their winged forms, four perched on the railing and one female standing on the deck. Something about their attitude made Moon’s hackles rise, as if they took a contemptuous but proprietary interest in the flying boat. Like it was a possession they claimed but didn’t particularly want. They ignored the Islander crew, who stood at a little distance and watched curiously. Five warriors seemed like overkill for an escort back to a colony which was barely forty paces away.

Moon walked up to the female leader. She was big, with dark copper scales. He was still in groundling form and she and the other warriors didn’t shift. That was bad manners at best, a threat at worst. Moon said, “What do you want?”

The warrior said, “You’re to come with us.” She threw a dismissive glance around the deck, ignoring the hostile Indigo Cloud warriors gathered by the hatch. “Enough playing with the groundlings.”

Moon felt a flush of heat, a rage all out of proportion to the stupid remark. He wrestled with the urge to shift and throw all five warriors off the flying boat. He held in a hiss though he thought his jaw might pop from the effort, and managed to say, calmly, “No.”

Her spines shivered in surprise. Moon turned away. He got two steps before he sensed her behind him, nearly breathing down his neck. That did it.

Moon whipped around, shifted as he turned, and flared his spines and snapped his wings out. The warrior flinched, so startled she shifted to groundling. She was younger than he expected. He said, with grating emphasis, “I’ll go when I’m ready. Now get off the boat.”

Two of the male warriors had already fallen off the railing, either in precipitous retreat or pure surprise. The last male and the other female held on, but ducked down to show they were no threat. Behind Moon, he heard Delin ask, “Is it rare for a young consort to threaten warriors?”

“Usually, but it’s not rare for him,” Song admitted.

The leader took two careful steps back, watching Moon warily, then turned, shifted to her winged form, and jumped over the railing. The other two warriors followed immediately.

Moon forced himself to shift back to groundling, though it took self-control. Delin had already whipped out his sketch book and plopped down on the deck, drawing furiously.

Chime stepped forward, concerned. “Moon, this isn’t doing any good. Jade can get them to give you back, just be patient.”

“I know, I know.” Moon rubbed his temple. He didn’t regret the outburst; it had felt too good. But it probably hadn’t helped the situation any.

“No, Moon did right,” Floret said unexpectedly. “They should have asked politely, and they knew it. He can’t let warriors order him around like that, especially in a new court.” She tugged on Chime’s arm. “Come on, let him calm down.”

Chime went, reluctantly, and everyone on the deck tried to look as if they had something to do. Moon sat on his heels next to Delin to watch him sketch, and tried to settle his simmering anger. Floret was right. Opal Night—at least the part under Onyx’s influence—wanted him to act like a consort but didn’t want to treat him like one.

After a time, Delin’s frantic scribbles slowed, as he captured enough of the scene to preserve the memory. He turned the book sideways and started to make notes along the margins. He asked, “They treat you badly here?”

“No.” So far, Moon figured he had done a good job of giving back whatever he had gotten.

“But it is not your home.”

“No.”

Delin looked up. “I do not understand how they can take a man away from his wife when he does not wish to be parted from her. Especially when his wife has such big teeth and claws.”

Moon sighed and got to his feet. He had stalled long enough to make his point; it was time to face the consequences. “My birthqueen has bigger teeth and claws.”

“More intimidating than Indigo Cloud’s Pearl?” At Moon’s nod, Delin lifted his brows, impressed.

The others had taken seats on the deck a short distance away. They stood as Moon walked over to say goodbye. “Will you be all right?” Chime asked, still worried. “Maybe they’ll ask us in to eat with the court and we can see you later.”

Eating with this court was more of a punishment than a treat. “Maybe,” Moon said, trying not to sound as grim as he felt. He had to answer several more inquiries about his health and wellbeing before he could shift and jump over the railing.

There were still Arbora and warriors in the greeting hall who politely scrambled to get out of his way, then watched him pass. He heard them murmuring to each other as soon as he turned into the passage. Anyone who had climbed or flown up the outside of the tree for a better look at the flying ship would have had a clear view of the scene with the warriors. Moon hoped they had enjoyed it.

“Moon!”

He turned to see Rise hurrying to catch up with him. She said, “I saw what happened. I’m sorry.”

She was in her groundling form, so Moon shifted too, using the moment to compose himself. “It wasn’t your fault. Is Jade still talking to Onyx?”

“Yes. That’s why Onyx sent warriors after you.” Rise’s expression was caught between annoyance and amusement. “She implied Jade meant to use that flying craft to steal you away.”

Moon managed a noncommittal shrug. He hoped no one said anything about the discarded plan. “Flying boats aren’t very fast.”

Rise hesitated, then said, “Malachite wants to talk to you.”

That was a good sign. Either it was about Jade or what they had discovered at Aventera, or both. Moon hoped for both. Then he heard a commotion from outside the greeting hall. Rise frowned and called out, “What is it?”

One of the Arbora answered, “The Indigo Cloud line-grandfather is back!”

Moon started for the doorway. “That’s not good.”

Rise followed. “I thought he came back with you and Celadon.”

“No, he stayed to scout the country around Aventera, to look for the Fell.” If Stone had returned this soon, he must have found something.

Moon went out onto the landing platform to see Stone banking in. The warriors and Arbora scattered as Stone cupped his wings and dropped down. Rise moved back a few paces, but Moon stayed where he was, swaying a little from the rush of air from Stone’s wings.

Stone shifted down to his groundling form, head turned toward the flying ship. Chime, Floret, and Song stood at the railing. Root perched on top of the steering cabin, waving. Irritated, Stone said, “Whose idea was that?”

“Jade’s,” Moon told him. “Did you find something?”

“She’s here? Good.” Stone looked grim. “I found the Fell.”

Chapter Twelve

Rise rushed to tell Malachite, then returned with word that the queen would speak to them in the queens’ greeting chamber. Jade, Balm, and Celadon were already there, with Onyx and her daughter queens. Lithe, a scatter of older warriors, and more Arbora arrived to represent Opal Night’s other mentors and the teacher, hunter, and soldier castes. They all stayed in their groundling forms, though the queens kept their wings instead of shifting to Arbora.

Stone settled himself on a cushion near the hearth at the center of the room and ignored all attempts to imply he should move to a less prominent spot. Moon sat near Stone, and Jade and Balm diplomatically took a position between Onyx’s supporters and the Arbora.

Then one of Onyx’s daughter queens said, “Should the visitors be here?” She regarded Jade and Balm, her expression critical and faintly suspicious. She inclined her head toward Moon. “And surely this is no place for a young, unattached consort.”

There was a murmur of agreement from Onyx’s warriors. Onyx herself just lazily coiled her tail and didn’t deign to comment.

Moon hissed under his breath. He wasn’t leaving.

Jade smiled and showed the tips of her fangs. “He isn’t unattached. As you can scent for yourself.”

With an edge to her voice, the daughter queen said, “Your claim is still in dispute.”

Jade tilted her head. “Not to me.”

There was a rush of wings from the passage and Malachite suddenly stood in the doorway. Everyone went quiet as she stepped into the room. She sat down, and said, “Line-grandfather. Tell us what you saw.”

Celadon sat forward and said quickly, “Malachite. Before we talk, Lithe should go.”

Lithe stared at her, startled. “Me? Why?”

She must be the only crossbreed in the room. Moon looked around at the other Arbora and saw they were all well past maturity. If any were survivors of the eastern colony, they were old enough to have been born before the Fell attack.

Malachite didn’t hesitate. “We will speak of it later.” Her voice softened a trace. “For now, Lithe, go.”

Confused, Lithe glanced at the other Arbora. They looked worried but didn’t object. She got to her feet and walked out of the chamber.

Malachite flicked her claws for Stone to continue. He said, “I was scouting the plains past the far edge of the groundling city’s plateau late this morning, and caught a strong scent of Fell, coming from the southeast. I went downwind, using the clouds as cover, and followed it. After a time, I saw…” Stone hesitated, as if he was having trouble finding the words. Moon felt his skin start to creep. “Several major kethel, carrying something.”

“Sacs?” Malachite asked.

The sacs were structures made of secretions from the major kethel, who used them to transport large numbers of dakti. The dakti were the smallest of the Fell and the slowest flyers, and carrying them in sacs made the flights able to travel much faster. It was disgusting, but it was nothing unusual for Fell. But there was something in Stone’s expression that told Moon there was more to this than that.

Stone said, “No, one sac. A huge one. Bigger than all the kethel together. Big enough to hold hundreds—more than hundreds—of dakti.” He shook his head slightly. “That flying island we stayed on last night? You could fit a few of those inside it with room to spare.”

Moon just stared, incredulous. How… What… He forced himself not to interrupt. The room had gone still, and no one so much as twitched a spine as they listened intently.

Stone continued, “They were carrying it with a web, like the boats with the air bladders in the city. Something like that.” He growled in sharp annoyance and all the warriors in the room flinched. “It’s hard to describe.”

One of the female Arbora stood and moved to sit next to Stone. The Arbora flipped through a roll of paper to a blank page, and began to sketch rapidly with a charcoal stick. “Like this?”

“No, on top. It was bigger.” After a few moments, Stone tapped the paper. “That’s—Yes, like that.”

The Arbora turned the paper around and held it up so they could all see. Everyone leaned forward, and some of those in the back moved so they could get a better view. It was a rough drawing of a sac, the size of it apparent when you knew the flying creatures arrayed above it were meant to be major kethel. The bulky sac was suspended below them, slung in a web-like netting.

After a moment, everyone sat back, and the Arbora lowered the drawing. Moon caught Jade’s eye; her expression was bleak.

“But…” Celadon looked to Malachite, uncertain. “What could be inside it? Dakti and rulers?”

Stone gave her a grim nod. “Lots of dakti and rulers. That’s my guess.”

Malachite asked Stone, “The Fell didn’t scent you?”

“I didn’t wait around,” Stone told her. “I don’t know if they mean to come here, or if they’re heading toward the groundlings.” He added, “Probably both.”

It was Onyx who said, “We are well-prepared for an attack.” She glanced at Malachite, irony coloring her voice. “We have thought of little else for the last forty turns.”

Preoccupied, Malachite said, “We will destroy the Fell.” She spoke as if it was an afterthought, as if her attention was on something else, but there was nothing but complete conviction in her voice. A ripple of suppressed tension moved through the warriors, and there were growls of agreement from the Arbora. Apparently the only thing this court agreed on was killing the Fell. Moon felt himself caught in the rush of emotion, a growl building in his own chest.

Onyx said to Malachite, “I hate to admit that you’ve been right all this time, but Lithe’s auguries do seem to be falling into place.”

One of the oldest Arbora, a male with graying hair and skin, said, “This must be an attack on all the Reaches. The Fell have never come to this territory before, not in all the hundreds of turns this mountain-tree has been here.”

“I have a suggestion,” Jade said. She tapped her claws thoughtfully against the polished floor.

Malachite said nothing, just watched her. With annoyance, Onyx made the formal introduction. “Malachite of Opal Night, Jade of Indigo Cloud, who has come here to beg a consort from us.”

Jade flicked a spine at that description. Malachite said, “Well?”

“Your colony is in danger from the Fell. You should allow my consort to return to Indigo Cloud with me, out of danger. You owe this to him.”

Moon stared. “That was your idea?”

Jade didn’t look at him. Moon hissed. He didn’t want to run from the Fell, not now. He knew he shouldn’t argue this here, but he couldn’t help himself. “This isn’t what we talked about.”

Jade’s jaw set, but she ignored him. She said to Malachite, “You would also gain an alliance with Indigo Cloud.”

Onyx’s tail lashed. “From what Emerald Twilight reported, an alliance with your court is nothing to covet,” she said. “And consorts are not trade goods.”

It’s nice that somebody thinks so. Moon growled under his breath, exasperated.

Jade’s spines trembled as she tried to suppress strong emotion. “If they aren’t trade goods,” she said, her voice harsh, “then they shouldn’t be taken from their queens and dragged off to a strange court on a whim.”

Celadon drew an angry breath to respond but Malachite’s voice overrode hers. She said, “A whim.”

The cold fury buried in those two words made Moon’s breath catch in his throat.

Jade’s spines bristled in reflex. She said, deliberately, “Your reasons may have held weight for you, but to me, and to others in my court, it seemed a cruel impulse.”

Malachite’s spines flared. Moon quelled an instinctive urge to bolt for the doorway. Celadon winced, the other daughter queens twitched and Onyx hissed in reflex, then self-consciously settled her spines. The Arbora uneasily edged away. Stone was the only one in the room who didn’t flinch. Jade didn’t let her spines rise in threat, but she didn’t back down, either.

Malachite said, “You took him knowing he belonged to another court.”

Jade countered, “I thought his court was destroyed.”

Moon couldn’t believe they were going to rehash this. He had really thought he had gotten Malachite past this point. “I thought we agreed that was my fault.”

“We did not agree.” Malachite’s gaze didn’t leave Jade. She said, “You had no right to take him, the last consort of my bloodline. You knew he was no feral solitary, and you must have known what he was worth. Even if he wasn’t forced, he knew nothing of his own people. He had no idea what he was agreeing to.”

Moon drew breath to argue that, but Stone squeezed his wrist, telling him to be silent. If Stone had hit him or told him to shut up, it wouldn’t have stopped him. But something about that gesture, and Stone’s wary, closed expression, kept Moon silent.

And he remembered that night in the turning city, when Jade said that he couldn’t possibly come from a bad bloodline.

Jade hissed out a breath. “I didn’t—”

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Malachite’s voice might have been made of iron. “Tell me he thought it meant more than trading himself for shelter and companionship.”

“I explained what it meant—”

“And did you think he understood?”

Silence stretched painfully. Then Jade said, “No.”

Moon wished he had bolted from the room when he had a chance. All he wanted to say was “Understand what?” Then he saw Balm’s expression. She was seated behind Jade, biting her lip, looking down at her hands tightly folded in her lap. Guilt was written over her whole body.

Jade tried to keep her voice hard, as if it was a struggle not to sound defensive. She said, “But I did believe that his court was destroyed. I had no reason to think otherwise.”

Malachite pressed harder. “You knew you were returning to the Reaches, where another court would recognize his bloodline. You knew there was a strong chance a court might claim him, and you needed alliances. So you took him.”

Jade showed her teeth. “I took him because I wanted him for my consort.”

“Then why haven’t you had a clutch?”

Moon heard Stone hiss an under-the-breath curse.

Jade’s spines trembled and her jaw set, the blood drained from her lips so the blue was almost white. She didn’t answer.

In a quiet voice, Celadon said, “We can’t afford to argue like this, not now. We have to deal with the Fell first.” She told Jade, “If you aren’t going to help us, then take your warriors and go back to your court.”

Jade stood. Balm looked up with a start, eyes wide. Jade said, “I’m not leaving without my consort. This is not over.” She left the chamber, her pace deliberate, as Balm got to her feet and followed.

For a long, painful moment no one moved, no one spoke. Moon started to stand and realized his muscles had tensed to the point that his legs had cramped. He managed to get to his feet without stumbling and walked out. No one tried to call him back.

He took the passage that led to the consort’s hall, stopped in a junction where one corridor opened out toward the central well. He took a deep breath of the fresh damp air flowing down it.

Feet pattered on the smooth wooden floor of the passage; Lithe hurried toward him. She stopped, her bracelets and the beads in her hair jangling with her agitation. “Moon, why did they ask me to leave?”

She was bound to hear it sooner or later. His voice was thick and he had to clear his throat. “The Fell know that there are crossbreeds here in the court. We think they can hear your thoughts.”

Lithe fell back a step, appalled. “No! That’s not possible. I’m a mentor, I’d know!”

“I don’t know. Someone will have to figure it out.”

Lithe studied him, her expression turning uncertain. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” He turned and went on toward the consorts’ hall, and she didn’t try to follow.

For once, there were no Arbora hanging around in the main room, which was a relief. Moon went through and up to his bower. He sat on the fur next to the bowl hearth, close enough to feel the faint warmth of the stones.

After a while, Stone came in and sat down nearby. He didn’t speak, he just looked at Moon.

Moon felt obligated to say something. “I never fooled myself about why I was in Indigo Cloud. You took a chance on me, and it worked, mostly. But I didn’t need to hear it spelled out like that.”

Stone growled in his throat, got up, and walked out.

Moon watched him go, too startled to react. That wasn’t helpful, he thought.

He realized his throat was dry and drank the tea that someone had left sitting beside the hearth. It was cold and bitter and all he wanted to do was wash it out of his mouth. He went into the bathing room to get a drink from the cool water running down the channel in the wall. It felt so good, he stepped under it and stood there until his head cleared. Stepping out of the pool, he stripped off his wet clothes and changed into the spare ones in his pack. They seemed much cleaner than he remembered, so he suspected the Arbora had been in here, too.

Moon came out of the bathing room and heard soft footsteps on the stairs. He froze, his heart giving an anticipatory thump. But it was Russet who appeared in the doorway. She was alone for once, without her entourage of younger Arbora.

Moon wasn’t glad to see her. He had felt an instant connection with Feather, but Russet just seemed like a nosy stranger. He said, “Unless it’s about the Fell, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

But she asked, “Do you remember me? From before, from the old colony.”

“No. I didn’t remember anyone here.” Her expression didn’t give away anything, but he felt like he might be insulting her. He added, “When Feather was telling me what happened, I thought I remembered it, just for an instant, but it went away.”

Her lips pressed together. Then she went to the other side of the bowl hearth and crouched down to collect the used tea cups. Guilt made Moon ask, “Did you take care of me?”

Her brow furrowed as she studied a cup. “No. I was in the nurseries, but it was Feather and Yarrow and Twist who took care of the royal clutch.”

So many of the Arbora must have lost their own children. “Who did you lose?”

She looked away, and now her expression was angry and bitter. “Everyone.”

There was a faint rustle from outside the door as someone tried to make their presence known before they approached. A moment later an older male warrior stepped in. He radiated awkwardness and discomfort, so Moon assumed he hadn’t come to attack anybody. The warrior nodded to Russet, then faced Moon and said, “Umber asks that you come to the consorts’ hall. The other consorts’ hall. He wants to speak with you.”

Moon might have refused, but it would provide a quick exit from Russet’s uneasy company. He got to his feet and said, “Let’s go.”

* * *

The other consorts’ hall was larger, made up of several interconnected chambers with passages branching off to lead to the bowers. Small balconies, some draped with climbing vines, looked down from the upper part of the room. The carving went up the walls in waves, shapes that were meant to symbolize the wind, with Aeriat in flight flowing along the ceilings.

The warrior took Moon through the main living chambers, past the curious eyes of several young consorts, up a curving stair to a smaller sitting area halfway up the wall. It looked down on the room below, and had an opening into the central well, with a view of the waterfall. The space was floored with cushions and seating mats in rich materials. Umber waited there in his groundling form, wearing a dark robe woven with intricate patterns.

Moon sat across from him. Another young consort immediately brought tea and a plate of flatbread, sliced meat, and fruit.

Umber said, “I was told about what happened in the council. Even after all these turns, Malachite is still… enraged at the Fell attack.”

Moon took a drink of tea to give himself a chance to think of an answer that wouldn’t get him kicked out of the hall. He just said, “I noticed.”

Umber wasn’t fooled. “I don’t think you realize that she does prize you greatly. You were part of her last clutch, and Celadon is the only other survivor. She hasn’t taken another consort since returning from the east.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

Umber smiled. “She carried you in her body. She knows everything she needs to know.”

Moon didn’t have an answer for that one.

Umber regarded him thoughtfully. “Onyx wants me to ask if you would consider accepting a queen from our bloodline. Her name is Ivory. She has a warrior clutchmate named Saffron, who was sent to retrieve you from the groundlings. When you threw her off the ship, Ivory was greatly intrigued.”

“I didn’t throw her off.” If Moon had thrown her off the boat, Saffron wouldn’t be in any condition to gossip about it to her royal clutchmate.

“As you say.” Umber made it clear he wasn’t going to argue the wording. “Ivory said that she would agree to take you if asked, and to overlook the fact that you had already been taken by another queen. The bloodlines are close, but not unacceptably so.”

Moon considered Umber. The older consort didn’t seem particularly interested in the proposal he had just relayed. “And what do you think?”

“I think she’s too young and foolish for you,” Umber said frankly. “She would see you as a challenge. You would see her as an enemy. It would be a disaster.”

It sounded like a disaster. Moon said, “Then my answer is no.”

“I’ll tell Onyx.” Umber poured more tea.

So that was that, apparently. Moon said, “I thought the idea was that I’d be sent to a queen in another court for an alliance.”

“Opal Night has all the alliances it needs. And I know Malachite would prefer you to stay here.”

“I didn’t think I was welcome in this court.” Moon cast a significant glance down at the young consorts who gathered around the hearth in the chamber below. The ones caught staring up at Moon and Umber all self-consciously looked away.

Umber followed Moon’s gaze. With an ironic air, he said, “They’ve heard by now how important you are to Malachite. I doubt they’ll treat you as an interloper again.” He added, “Because Ivory is inappropriate doesn’t mean there isn’t a daughter queen in our court for you.”

Until that instant Moon hadn’t been aware that he had been trying to make a decision. “Maybe. But I’m already taken.” And he thought, So it wasn’t that difficult a decision after all.

* * *

After Moon left Umber, he went to the colony’s main entrance. Twilight was falling into a cool evening, the sky’s blue darkening to indigo and the first stars coming out. Lights glowed on either side of the big doorway, echoed by the flicker of lamps aboard Delin’s ship. Warriors still gathered around the entrance hall, but no one tried to stop Moon when he went outside.

Moon shifted just long enough to make the long leap up to the ship. He hit the railing a little too hard and the wood vibrated. A couple of sailors on watch stood up in alarm, then relaxed as soon as Moon swung down onto the deck and shifted to groundling. One lifted a hand in greeting, and called out in Altanic, “The others are below!”

Moon waved back and went to the hatchway to take the steps down. Still trying to think what he was going to say to Jade, he was caught by surprise when he stepped into the corridor and she whipped out of a doorway.

She froze in surprise. “Oh. I thought it was one of their warriors. With a message.”

“No. It’s me.” They stared at each other for a moment.

Delin appeared in the doorway Jade had just burst out of, lifted his brows, then stepped back in and slid the door shut. Moon heard the other Raksura demanding to know who was here, then frantic shushing.

Jade twitched her spines nervously, then turned down the corridor. “We can talk back here.”

She led him down the passage to a large cabin. From the belongings strewn about and the blankets heaped up in the corners, Moon guessed this was where the Raksura had been sleeping on the journey.

Jade pulled a folded blanket around for him to sit on, then took one for herself. As soon as they were both seated, Jade said, “I’m sorry. That didn’t work out at all like I expected. And it didn’t say much for my ability to negotiate with other courts.”

Moon shook his head a little. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Jade hesitated. “I don’t want you to feel as if… I told Malachite the truth. I took you for a consort because I wanted you. Not because it was the only option, or because I thought there might be a future alliance.”

“It was the only option,” Moon reminded her. “The Arbora wouldn’t agree to leave the old colony unless you had a consort. That was the whole reason Stone went to look for one.”

“Not once the Fell attacked. If any of the Arbora had demanded to stay at the old colony after that, Pearl would have been happy to leave them there.”

That didn’t seem like much of an option, and he didn’t think Pearl, let alone Jade, would have been willing to risk it. “So I was the first consort you’d ever seen that you weren’t related to. It doesn’t matter,” he said, when she drew breath to object. “It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right.” She bared her teeth. “If I could prove it to you, I would.”

Moon rubbed his eyes. A clutch would prove it, but Jade was obviously unwilling to admit that he couldn’t provide one. “You don’t have to prove it.”

“I could steal you.”

He started to say that wasn’t funny anymore, but her expression stopped the words. The last time he had seen that look in her eyes, he had had to talk her out of killing Tempest’s sister Halcyon. He said, “You can’t steal me. Not from Malachite.”

With complete conviction, she said, “I can.”

It was tempting, but they just didn’t have time for it. Moon made his voice hard. “The Fell are about to attack the Reaches. If you try to steal me in the middle of this, I will make sure you never sleep again.”

Jade’s eyes narrowed. “I have help.”

“Who, the warriors?” Moon snorted in derision. “That’s funny.”

Jade held his gaze for a long moment, a growl in her throat. Then her shoulders and spines relaxed in defeat and she looked away. “Well. What do you want to do?”

“It’s nice to be asked, for once.” And it would be easier to answer if he had any idea what he should do. “I can’t leave here until the Fell flight is dead.”

“I can offer to help fight them in exchange for you.” Jade propped her chin on her hand, and her expression turned ironic. “That should go over well. I think your birthqueen hates me only slightly less than the Fell who attacked your court in the first place.”

Moon would have argued that, except it might well be true. “It’s hard to tell with her.”

“It wasn’t that hard to tell.” Jade’s expression went from ironic to sour. “Stone is furious with me.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he was just furious in general.”

“No, he was furious in particular.” Jade seemed glumly certain of it. “He didn’t like how I handled the whole thing. It’s made me realize I don’t know as much about being a queen as I think I do.”

He remembered again that Jade was young, maybe even younger than he was. It had always been hard for him to judge Raksuran age, especially since number of turns lived didn’t always equal maturity. But that was true for groundlings, too. “I think you know a lot about being a queen, it’s just…” He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage away an incipient headache. It had been a long and very tense day. “Not helpful in this situation. Where’s Stone now?”

“He went off to sulk.” She watched him worriedly. “Did you eat today? Did you stop eating again?”

“I did not stop eating,” he said, irritated. “I flew most of today, I’m tired.”

“Yes, but…” Jade didn’t finish. She took his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you something anyway.”

She led him down the passage to the ship’s common room and slid the door open. Delin, Chime, Balm, Floret, Root, and Song all sat around the low table, and the conversation stopped abruptly when Moon and Jade appeared. There were dishes on the table, and from the bones stacked on a platter, they had been eating a fresh kill. It wasn’t surprising, since Delin was one of the few groundlings who wouldn’t be disturbed by watching Raksura eat raw meat, but the sight made Moon queasy and his stomach twinged in a painful way that wasn’t hunger. Great, you did make yourself sick again, he thought. He wasn’t certain how, since he had eaten with Celadon, Stone, and the warriors just this morning.

Everyone watched them worriedly, and Chime said, “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” Moon took a seat next to him, and picked up the nearest cup to see what was in it.

Balm passed him a carafe of water. “We were talking about the groundling city, and what we can do.”

Delin said, “I’ve been thinking about these Aventerans, their refusal to see the danger. If I spoke to them, perhaps it would help.”

Moon asked, “You think they’d believe another groundling when they didn’t believe us?”

“Perhaps. And, from what you described, I’m not entirely sure that they didn’t believe you.” Delin shrugged. “They may not have wanted to appear any more vulnerable than they already were.”

“Maybe.” As much as Moon didn’t like the Aventerans, it would be a relief to know they were prepared for the Fell. “If we go there, don’t tell them how your flying boat works.”

Delin lifted his brows. “You think they will attempt to steal our sustainer?”

“No. Maybe.” Moon rubbed his temple. There was a tight pain across his forehead. “I just don’t think you should trust them.”

“Moon, are you all right?” Chime’s voice was oddly sharp. “You don’t look well.”

“He’s right, Moon.” Jade touched his face. “Your skin is turning gray.”

“No, I’m tired…” he started to say, and thought, and weak, and too warm, and… “I think I’m sick.”

It came on just like it had before. A dark wave of dizziness and nausea flowed over him and he was suddenly stretched out on the floor. Balm held his head while Jade leaned over him. Her voice hard with tension, Jade said, “Chime, what kind of sickness is this?”

Chime put his ear to Moon’s chest. “His lungs are clear.” He put a hand on Moon’s stomach, and Moon reflexively snarled and knocked it away before he even realized how much it hurt.

“Moon, look at me!” Chime’s voice snapped.

Moon blinked and focused on him. Chime peered at him closely, then laid a hand on his neck. “He’s too cold.”

“He’s been ill,” Jade said. “When Stone first got here—”

Delin said, “He was fine moments ago. Chime, do your people get ill this quickly?”

“No, no, they don’t. If it’s a sickness, it’s a bad one.”

“What you mean ‘if’?” Floret said. “Look at him!”

“He may be poisoned.” Delin took Moon firmly by the chin, making sure he had his attention. “You need to vomit. You understand?”

“Poisoned?” That was Balm, sounding incredulous. “How would he get poisoned?”

Somewhere in the back, Root said, “I didn’t know we could get poisoned. Except the Fell poison.”

“This isn’t Fell poison,” Song told him impatiently.

“I know that, I’m just saying—”

Jade snapped, “Shut up, all of you, except Delin and Chime!”

“Get a bucket!” Delin yelled at someone. “If it’s poison, this may help. If it’s sickness, it won’t hurt.”

“He’s right.” Chime grabbed hold of Moon’s arm and hauled him upright. An Islander crewman hurried over, plunking down a woven reed bucket.

Moon decided to side with Delin and Chime, but he wanted to take care of the matter without any help. He shook off Chime, warned the others away with a growl, and grabbed the bucket. He had to stick his finger down his throat, but he managed it. Coughing and choking afterward, he knew Delin was right. What had been in his stomach was far too bitter and acidic.

When he had got rid of all he could, he slumped sideways. Jade caught him and eased him down to the deck. Moon curled on his side, the wood cool against his cheek. He wasn’t sure he felt better. Chime and Delin snatched the bucket together and both sniffed at the contents. Chime shook his head, and Delin looked puzzled.

“Get water!” Someone called out.

“No, not water,” Chime said. “Something thick.”

“Get a bottle of atra,” Delin told one of the hovering crew members. He explained to the others, “It’s a plant milk, with opposite properties to that of acidic substances.”

“You think this is a—” Chime hesitated. “I don’t know the word in Altanic. Like a venom?”

“Possibly.”

An Islander appeared with a light ceramic bottle. Jade helped Moon sit up and held it steady for him, as Delin instructed, “Drink only a little.”

Moon tasted it cautiously. It was milky but with a faint sweetness underneath. He remembered the simple Lithe had made had been thick and milky, and that it had helped, so he drank a few swallows. At first it felt like it was going to come right back up, but then the cramps eased.

Jade said, “We need a mentor. Balm, go into the colony and—”

“No.” Moon’s voice sounded rough and weak. He knew Delin’s remedy might be temporary, and he had to know who had done this. “I need to go back inside. To the bower, where I was staying.”

Chapter Thirteen

Jade carried Moon back to the colony and up through the passages to the consorts’ hall, but Moon was barely aware of it. The world had narrowed down to the pain in his gut and the effort it took to draw breath.

Awareness returned when Moon felt someone lay the back of a warm scaled hand against his forehead. He knew it was Malachite, not Jade or Celadon. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did.

He opened bleary eyes and saw the carved ceiling of his bower. People looked down at him from all around, Jade at one side, Chime and Delin at the other. Past them he saw Lithe and two older Arbora who might be mentors. He hoped they were mentors. He heard Celadon speak quietly to someone. Everyone looked worried. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember why he had wanted to be brought back here.

He heard Jade ask, “What kind of simple did you give him before?” Her voice was rough.

Lithe answered, “It’s for calming the stomach, for people who get so ill they can’t eat.” She sounded desperate. “But if this is really a poison, that simple won’t work.”

“It worked before,” Celadon said, sounding as if she were fighting to keep a tight hold on her frustration. “Can’t you try it again?”

“She can try it,” Delin said, his voice soft and patient as he carefully pronounced the words in Raksuran. “But we already gave him a plant milk, which has a similar purpose, and it hasn’t truly helped. Whoever did this must have found out that her remedy countered it, and increased the amount greatly.”

One of the other Arbora said, “The groundling scholar is right. We have to find out what it is before we can treat it.”

“Will a healing sleep help?” Jade said. Moon had been wondering that himself.

It was Chime who answered her this time, and he sounded frightened and miserable. “Not for poison.”

Moon didn’t find any of this very encouraging.

A sudden commotion at the door caused everyone except the queens and Delin to scramble away. Stone stepped into view, picked up Delin by the shoulders and set him aside, and took his place beside Moon. Delin moved to a vantage point near Moon’s feet, and said, “We believe he has been poisoned, but we aren’t sure how, or with what.”

Poisoned, Moon thought. Now he remembered.

Rise’s voice came from the other side of the room. “Umber invited him to his consorts’ hall. They would have had tea, and probably food. But how could that be poisoned?”

“Because someone put poison in it,” Jade snarled. “This was no accident.”

“Would one of the younger consorts do this out of jealousy?” Celadon asked, but she didn’t sound as if she thought it was very likely. “Someone go to Umber, make sure he and the others are well.”

As a warrior pushed through the onlookers and out of the room, Lithe said, “But how would they think of it? And what would they use?”

Another Arbora said, “No one’s ever done anything like this here, not as long as I can remember. Raksura don’t poison each other!”

Moon wrapped his hand around Stone’s wrist. Moving was a huge effort, but talking was worse. He croaked out, “Check the tea in the pot.”

Stone’s gaze snapped to the hearth, then he looked around the room. “There’s no pot here.”

“There was earlier.” Moon was certain now. “It was bitter.” He forced more words out past the pain in his throat. “It’s the only thing I had to eat or drink here today that I didn’t share with someone.”

Stone stared at Moon, realization hardening his expression. “The morning after you were sick the first time. The tea the Arbora left here smelled wrong, so I didn’t use it. I thought it had gone bad.”

Jade hissed in fury. “Who removed the pot?”

“It must have been the Arbora who were watching him.” Celadon’s voice held a suppressed growl. “Find them.”

Pain seized Moon’s stomach again, not a stabbing sensation but a burning one, extending out through his arms and legs, as if tracing the path the poison took through his body. For a time he wasn’t aware of anything else, then someone wiped his face with a cool damp cloth, and made him drink something that tasted pungent and milky. It was like the simple Lithe had given him before, and it eased the pain a little. Then he heard more people enter the room, and voices raised in argument.

He heard Russet say, “It was Moss who tended the bowers today.”

A young male voice answered, sounding confused and taken aback. “No, I did it before they left with Celadon for the groundling city. I was working in the gardens today. You were the only one who came up here.”

Russet was calm. “No, you’re mistaken. I wasn’t up here. You were the only one in the hall.”

“I’m not mistaken,” Moss said, his voice trembling. “I – I—”

“Moss is twenty turns old and barely out of the nurseries.” Celadon cut through the voices raised in protest. “What reason does he have to poison a consort he has never met?”

“What reason does Russet have?” someone countered. “She helped take care of the royal clutches in the nurseries, with Feather and Yarrow, when the Fell attacked.”

Her voice grating with the effort not to growl, Jade said, “So the boy Moss has never met Moon before, but Russet has.”

“And she’s met the Fell,” Chime said, grimly. “Why else would someone do this, unless they were influenced by the Fell?”

Still sounding far too calm, Russet said, “Lithe was the one who gave him a simple.”

Moon managed to get his eyes open. He couldn’t see Russet, who must be standing toward the front of the room. Jade still sat next to him, her claws clenched and her spines raised in impotent fury. Celadon stood just past her, facing the group of Arbora. Her spines shivered and her shoulder muscles bunched, and with a clarity born of the near-death experience he was having, Moon read frustration and a slowly growing, incredulous rage in her body language. Celadon said, “That was two days ago, and Lithe wasn’t born when the Fell attacked. Obviously.” The last word grated like claws on rock.

Stone tilted his head in a way that suggested his patience was about to violently snap. His growl made the floor vibrate as he said, “And I tasted that simple. It was herbs and plant milk, that was all.”

Incredibly, Russet sounded unmoved. “Herbs can be poisonous.”

Jade hissed and surged to her feet. Balm lunged forward and caught her arm.

As Jade wrenched free, Celadon snapped, “Stop!” Jade hesitated, threw a desperate look down at Moon, then stepped back. Balm hissed in relief.

Celadon turned again to the Arbora. “One of the other mentors will look into the minds of Russet and Moss and Lithe, and settle this.”

Still as cool as if Moon wasn’t dying here in the middle of the room, Russet said, “No. I refuse. Why does everyone doubt me?”

Lithe snarled, “I’ll let a mentor—any mentor—look into my mind. I have nothing to hide. What about you, Moss?”

“Me, too.” Moss’s voice trembled, but more with anger than fear. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

Russet said again, “I refuse.”

Moon had to see her. He tried to get his arms to move, to lever himself up, but he felt as if there were rocks piled on his chest. Stone slid an arm under him and pulled him up into a sitting position. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and focused on Russet.

She stood alone against the wall of the bower. The other Arbora had stepped away from her, staring in a mix of bewilderment and growing consternation. Moon gasped, “I know it was you.”

Russet focused on him, and her expression abruptly went from calmly neutral to wildly furious. “I knew you were lying when you said you didn’t remember.”

Jade surged forward again, slamming into Celadon’s shoulder. “What did you give him?”

Lithe stepped toward Russet, her fists knotted. “Tell us! What did you give him?” Russet just stared at her. Lithe bared her teeth, unexpectedly fierce. “I can make you tell me.”

Moon felt Stone tense, felt something in the room change behind him, as if a predator had hidden nearby and had suddenly revealed itself for the kill. He looked around just as Malachite uncoiled like a snake and stood. He had forgotten she was in the room, or she had made him forget. From the shocked silence of the others, he wasn’t the only one.

The warriors and Arbora shrunk away, leaving a clear path to Russet. Russet’s breath caught in her throat and she pressed herself against the wall. Malachite stepped around Moon and Stone, almost delicately. Her partially extended claws clicked against the smooth wood of the floor, the only sound in the room. She moved deliberately toward Russet until she stood barely a pace away.

It was Russet’s turn to tremble, but she couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t look away. Malachite’s tail made one slow, almost languid lash. Moon’s skin went cold, a chill that cut right through the rising heat in his body, as if Malachite had just done something that had drawn all the warmth out of the room.

Malachite said, softly, “What did you put in the tea?”

Eyes wide with terror, Russet whispered, “The hunters killed a tree-asp and brought it back to the larder. There was venom still in the sacs. The first time I tried I didn’t use enough—” She stopped abruptly as two of the mentors jumped up and shoved their way through the other Arbora and ran out of the bower.

Lithe turned away, dumped her satchel to scrabble through the various packets of herbs. She muttered, “I think we can… There’s an antidote but we have to…”

Moon rolled over and curled into Stone’s lap. He didn’t want to hear anymore. Stone patted him on the back and Moon concentrated on listening to Stone’s heartbeat and the deep growl vibrating through his chest.

He growled himself when Stone lifted him up. He blinked away pain tears to see the two mentors who had run out were back, huddling with Lithe over a multi-colored concoction in a bowl. It steamed a little in the damp air. They were the only ones here; everyone else had left the bower.

Lithe dipped a cup into the liquid and handed it to Stone, who put it into Moon’s hands and helped him lift it to his lips. The scent that rose from it was like rot, like the simple had been cooked in the body of a dead grasseater, but Moon had just enough sense left to force it down anyway. He gagged once but managed to swallow most of it. Once it was in his throat, it felt cool and smooth, as if he was drinking very fine silk. It soothed his abraded throat, and the sensation continued down into his stomach, the relief so intense he sank back into Stone’s lap and folded up like a sleeping fledgling. He heard Stone ask, “Another dose?”

“No,” Lithe replied. “Too much could hurt him. Let him rest, and we’ll see how he is.”

His head pillowed on Stone’s thigh, Moon mumbled, “Why did she do it? I was lying when I said I remembered her.”

“We don’t know,” Stone said, and ruffled his hair. “Go to sleep.”

* * *

Moon opened his eyes sometime later to a fall of dawn light from the opening to the central well. A stir of air carried the damp scent of the waterfall. He was curled in a nest of blankets near the hearth, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and he felt as if he had slept face down in cold mud all night.

Stone lay a short distance away, sprawled on his back and growling faintly in his sleep. They were alone except for an Arbora, an older male with dark copper skin and dark curly hair, who sat on the other side of the hearth. Moon recognized him as one of the mentors who had helped Lithe last night. At least he assumed it was last night. The bedding had been changed and the place cleaned; it smelled of nothing now except the waterfall and the green scents drifting in from the central well.

The Arbora said, “I’m Auburn. How are you feeling?”

Moon croaked, “Hollow.” He had a vague dream-like memory of having to get up in the middle of the night for an urgent visit to the latrine in the bathing room. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. He still felt like he had lost some important internal organs in the process.

“Ah.” Auburn set a kettle on the heating stones. “I have a tea that should help, very mild. Will you take some?”

Moon started to say yes, then remembered that accepting food from Opal Night Arbora was what got him into this. Auburn seemed to realize that, and said, with a wry smile, “I’ll drink a cup first.”

Moon nodded. Watching Auburn sort pressed leaves into the pot, he asked, “If nobody poisons anybody here, why did you have an antidote to what Russet gave me?”

“We have an antidote to tree-asp stings,” Auburn corrected. “The hunters and soldiers get bitten occasionally. Since you actually had the venom inside you, we had to modify that simple and combine it with something that would protect your stomach and gut while the antidote was working.” He poured the warm water into the pot, and added grimly, “Fortunately, Russet is not a mentor, and didn’t know how to make a truly effective poison from the venom.”

If that wasn’t effective, Moon would have hated to see one that was.

Stone snorted and sat straight up, so suddenly that Auburn flinched. Moon was still too half-conscious to flinch. Stone rubbed his face, and squinted at Moon. “You all right?”

Moon nodded and shrugged. He felt terrible, but he was pretty certain he wasn’t dying anymore. Stone yawned.

It didn’t look like Stone had had a very good night either. Considering the condition Moon had been in, he was glad Stone was the only one to see it besides the mentors. “Where’s Jade and the others?”

Auburn said, “Malachite made everyone leave except your line-grandfather to give us room to work. Lithe and Reed are taking their turn to rest.” He poured a cup of tea, drank it, then poured a second and handed it to Moon. “I’ll go and tell them all you’re awake. I know they’ve been very worried, even after you took a turn for the better last night.”

As Auburn got to his feet and left the bower, Moon sniffed the tea cautiously, then tasted it. It was warm water barely flavored with tea, but when he drank the cup it soothed his dry throat, and his stomach decided it might live after all. “What happened to Russet?” he asked Stone.

“Nothing, yet. They had to wait to see if you recovered.” Stone scratched his head vigorously, still trying to wake himself up. “It’s a bad situation for the whole court.”

Moon refused to feel guilty, or tried to. Every Raksuran court he visited seemed to face trouble because of him, sooner or later. He just hoped nothing had happened to Viridian Sea. And while Tempest’s sister Halcyon had ended up fighting to the death, and he knew warriors were punished with exile and became solitaries, he had never seen or heard of an Arbora doing anything bad enough to warrant any punishment whatsoever. He had never even seen one get the slap to the head usually meted out to warriors for their transgressions. “So… what are they going to do to her?”

Stone gave him a look. “She tried to kill a consort. The only consort left in the reigning queen’s bloodline. What do you think they’re going to do to her?”

* * *

Moon wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the blankets and sleep, but there was too much that had to be done.

Auburn returned with Lithe and two more mentors, who came to check Moon over again and to advise that he sleep for the rest of the day. Moon sent them away to tell Malachite that whatever she planned to do with Russet, he wanted to be there, and to tell her he was going back to the groundling city to talk to them again about the Fell unless somebody came up with a better plan.

He had been thinking of Malachite as an enemy. It had finally hit home at some point last night, maybe when she had touched his face, that what Celadon and Umber and everyone else had told him was true. That she might be a powerful ally.

She already meant to stop the Fell. Getting her to stop them before they destroyed Aventera was going to be the problem. Once Moon had that figured out, getting her to let him return to Indigo Cloud with Jade shouldn’t be nearly as difficult. He hoped.

One thing he desperately needed before any of this was a bath, and he was standing under the cool water channel when Chime walked into the bathing room with a bundle under his arm. Chime said, “Good, you really are better. From the message you sent with the Arbora, we thought so, but it’s a relief to see it.”

“Where’s Jade?”

“In the queens’ hall with Malachite. She sent the rest of us back to the flying boat to rest, but she stayed.” He regarded Moon intently. “So… how are you?”

“Fine.” At Chime’s expression, Moon admitted, “Not so good. But we don’t have time.”

Chime hesitated, then clearly decided there was no point in arguing. He put the bundle down on the flat stone table used for drying clothes. “Your mother sent you some gifts. If you don’t take them, she might kill me. I mean, that was just the impression I got.”

Moon stepped out of the pool and dried off. He felt more alert, more able to at least get his eyes all the way open. He hadn’t tried to shift yet, and he still felt too weak to make the effort. He felt too weak to be standing up, actually, and sat down on the edge of the bathing pool. “What did she send?”

Chime opened the bundle and pulled out clothes, laying them out on the drying rock. They were of a very fine material but sturdy, like the cloth Indigo Cloud had made at the old colony. The shirt was black and the pants a dark gray, and there was a belt made of a very soft, dark mottled hide, set with tiny rounds of bone intricately carved into flowers. There was also a long robe, the dark fabric woven in strips of different textures, the collar trimmed with a heavy brocade. It was possibly the most expensive looking garment Moon had ever seen in his life.

Watching Moon’s lack of reaction, Chime said, “This is nice, and probably meant well, and accepting presents from your birthqueen doesn’t obligate you to anything—”

“It’s all right, Chime,” Moon said, too weary to be really exasperated. “I won’t send them back.”

“Oh, good.” Chime looked relieved. “There was this, too. I think it’s jewelry.” He held out a small packet of silky cloth.

Moon unwrapped the piece. It was a small disk made of ivory, carved into waved lines that in Raksuran art symbolized the wind. The pointed ends all went to the left, which meant it was a west wind. A darker rim of jade had once circled it, but had snapped off halfway around. From that and the rough texture of the back, Moon could tell it had once been part of a larger piece.

Chime leaned over to see, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s broken.”

Moon rubbed his thumb over a reddish stain on the ivory. “That’s blood.”

They looked at each other. Chime said, “Your mother is strange. I think I owe Pearl an apology for all the things I’ve ever thought…” He drew in a sharp breath in realization. “Unless that belonged to…”

“Her consort, my father.” Moon closed his hand over the disk.

* * *

Stone and Chime walked Moon to the queens’ hall and stopped outside. Only Opal Night Raksura were to be present for this.

When Moon stepped into the queens’ hall, everyone stared at him. For once he didn’t mind. He had meant to make an entrance this time.

Malachite, with Celadon behind her, sat in the center of the chamber. Around the walls were twenty or so older Arbora, probably the leaders of the castes and all the prominent elders, plus all the mentors Moon had seen last night. Moon recognized Feather, the teacher who had taken care of him before the eastern colony was attacked. Lithe and Auburn were there too, and Moss, the young Arbora male that Russet had accused. A group of warriors sat behind Malachite and Celadon, mostly older females, including Rise. Onyx and her daughter queens and consorts and warriors were conspicuously absent. Moon took that to mean that this was only for the Arbora and the members of Malachite’s bloodline. Everyone was in groundling form, and even Celadon wore her Arbora form. Only Malachite kept her wings.

Malachite was also the only one who didn’t show any sign of surprise or agitation at Moon’s appearance. She indicated a pile of cushions a few paces from her side. It was a relief; Moon was trembling just from the walk here. He had drunk an entire pot of tea and eaten a little dry bread, but Auburn thought he should make sure that stayed down before he tried anything more substantial. Moon agreed with the advice, but lack of food made him cold and weak.

Moon went to the cushions and sat down, managing it with only a small thump when his legs gave out at the last moment. Malachite watched him, and he realized she had seen that he wore the ivory piece on a cord around his neck. She pulled her gaze away from it. “Get him another wrap.”

All the warriors twitched to obey the command but Rise was closest and got to her feet first. She brought Moon a silky blanket from the pile to one side of the room and he took it without protest.

As Rise returned to her seat, Malachite said, “You don’t have to be here.”

“I want to be here,” Moon said. His voice still came out hoarse and weak. “Did Auburn give you my message?”

“Yes.” Malachite’s tail tip flicked, the only sign of agitation or impatience that she had betrayed so far. “Why do you care so much about this groundling city?”

“Just because they’re vulnerable and too stupid to realize it doesn’t mean they should die.” He added deliberately, “And because I think you have a plan to use them as bait, so you can attack while the Fell are distracted.”

There was another stir in the room, an uneasy one this time, and Celadon’s spines trembled anxiously. That told Moon he was right. He hadn’t thought Malachite, who had rescued the remnants of her court and killed off an entire Fell flight into the bargain, would wait long before deciding what to do. Or that she would disregard an obvious advantage.

Malachite tilted her head and regarded him steadily. Moon forced himself not to drop his gaze. After a long moment, her tail tip flicked again and she said, “We’ll speak of that later.”

She looked away, and Moon tried to make his exhalation of relief silent. She said, “Bring Russet.”

Two of the younger Arbora got up and went out, to return a few moments later with Russet. She wasn’t restrained in any way, but she was surrounded by a group of young male and female Arbora, with the strong builds and rough practical clothing that usually indicated soldiers. Moon wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but after her furious reaction to being caught last night, Russet’s expression now surprised him. Her eyes were downcast, and she looked grave and sad.

The soldiers stepped away from her and went to sit down, leaving her in the center of the room, ten paces from Malachite.

One of the older Arbora said, “Three different mentors have looked into Russet’s mind, and whatever happened in the past, there is no Fell influence now.”

A sigh went through the Arbora, a shocked murmur through the warriors. Moon translated that to mean that the Arbora had been hoping against hope that Russet had been acting under Fell influence, and so was not responsible for anything she had done. The warriors had assumed that she was under Fell influence, that no Arbora would do this of her own volition. Moon thought she might have been influenced turns ago during the attack; she would have no memory of it. This might be what happened if the influence remained and the victim was never made aware of it, that it would do strange things to your thoughts, even after all trace of it finally faded. He was glad Balm wasn’t here to see this.

Russet looked up at the reaction, and her gaze fell on Moon. She went still for a moment, then looked down again.

It was Celadon who said, “This is your chance to speak for yourself, Russet. Tell us what happened.”

Russet drew a sharp breath, then said, “It started back then, at the eastern colony.” She stopped, clenching her jaw, as if speaking of it was painful. Moon felt the first creeping doubt that she was playacting, that the truth of her feelings was very different.

“Go on,” another Arbora said. They were all watching her, as still as if they were stalking prey. Some looked openly distressed, like Moss, but with the others it was hard to tell.

Russet wet her lips, and said, “I used to go out with the hunters, sometimes. One day I got separated from them. I met… a creature in the forest. I thought it was a groundling at first, then I realized it was a strange kind of shifter. It asked me questions. It… It’s easy to say I should have known. But it was hard not to answer. I don’t remember what it did, but I told it everything it wanted to know.” She swallowed. “It was a Fell ruler.”

It was all too possible. According to Feather, the court had never encountered Fell before. The first time Moon had seen Fell in the groundling city of Saraseil, he thought he might have been one of them.

“When they attacked, when they killed the soldiers and the other teachers to get to the nurseries, I knew they had been lying. Swift heard me beg them… She heard enough to know I had spoken to one before. They let me live; I don’t know why. I ran into Swift and she accused me… I lied to her, I told her I wasn’t the only one, that there were others. If she tried to tell anyone, it would be all of us against her, and no one would believe her.” She looked at Moon squarely for the first time. “She left, and I never saw her again. That must have been when she fled with you and the other children.”

Swift, Moon thought in the silence that followed. Swift who changed her name to Sorrow. In some ways, none of this was a surprise.

Then Malachite’s voice fell into the silence like a clatter of steel. “You’re lying.”

Russet stared at her. “I… No…”

Malachite’s claws flexed. “Swift was a young warrior, the only survivor of a sickly clutch who had not much distinguished herself in the court, but she was not a fool. Subsequent events proved she obviously didn’t lack for courage. You told her there were others who had turned against the court and would falsely accuse her, but I believe she also saw something that so appalled her that she fled with no hope of ever returning.”

As if she couldn’t contain herself a second longer, Feather burst out, “All the fledgling consorts were together with Yarrow. Why did Swift save Moon and not the others? What happened to Yarrow? Swift must have run across my—the Arbora babies on the way out, but if she had found more fledglings alive—” Feather’s fists clenched, as if she fought the urge not to shift and leap on Russet. “Why didn’t she take the others?”

There was a low chorus of hisses from the Arbora, as Feather’s words hit home. Celadon’s spines flared. Moon struggled to remember, focused on that one image that had surfaced when he had first met Feather, of clinging to Sorrow—to Swift as she flew, the others crying. But there was nothing else.

Malachite said, “Answer Feather’s question.”

Russet’s face twisted in fury. “I don’t know what Swift was thinking. How could I?”

“What were you thinking?” one of the other Arbora asked, harsh with anger. “If that was what happened, if you were tricked and deceived by the Fell, why didn’t you tell us? We could have forgiven you that. Especially later, with all we learned of them.”

“We could have forgiven you that,” Malachite said. “If that was all you did.” Her tail tip twitched. “There would be no reason to kill the only surviving consort of my last clutch, for terror of what he might know. There would be no reason for fear and guilt to eat you for all these turns, until there is nothing of you left but this shell.”

Feather persisted, “What did Swift see you do? You didn’t just tell the Fell how to get in. Did you take them to the fledgling consorts, hand them over to the rulers?” Her voice rose. “Did you kill Yarrow yourself?”

“Tell them,” Moon said, and his voice came out in that harsh croak. “Tell them what you did.”

Russet stared at him, then her face twisted, turning ugly and desperate. “It wasn’t me. The Fell forced me—”

“Tell them,” Moon repeated. “Or I will.” His heart thumped at the chance he was taking. If she refused, he would have to admit he didn’t remember and they would never know what had happened.

Russet growled, then gasped out, “They promised they’d spare my children! My clutch, they were all warrior fledglings. But the Fell lied, they killed them, they didn’t want warriors—” She stopped, fighting for calm. “I had to kill the royal fledglings. I did it so the Fell wouldn’t get them. I did it—I did it—I wanted to hurt the Fell, and taking away what they wanted so badly was the only way. Yarrow tried to stop me, he didn’t understand. I killed him too. That’s what Swift saw. Moon was the only one left. She got him before the rulers could.”

Celadon turned to Moon. “You saw this?”

He shook his head, too cold inside to feel any victory. “I don’t remember it.”

Despair and fury warred on Russet’s face. She stared at Moon, her lips forming a silent snarl. “You said you did.”

“I’m a good liar too,” he told her.

Feather shifted and sprang. Moon had time to think that this would be the end of Russet, but Malachite was suddenly on her feet, in the center of the room. She caught Feather around the waist, held her easily despite the spines and flailing claws. Feather’s growl rose to a deep shout of rage. “I’ll kill her! Let me be the one to kill her!”

“No.” Malachite dropped her. Feather landed on her feet and crouched, snarling up at her. Then the snarl died away. Feather shifted to groundling, sat down hard, and buried her face in her hands. Malachite turned toward Russet.

Russet backed away, growling low. Malachite said, “You might have been tricked by the Fell in the past, but there was no trick when you poisoned the last consort of my bloodline.”

“You’ll kill me?” Russet bared her teeth and sneered up at her. “A queen kill an Arbora? The word will spread through the other courts—”

“Yes, it’s unheard of, almost unthinkable.” It was another Arbora who spoke. She stood and moved forward into the center of the room, and stopped beside Feather. Her skin was tinted gray with age and her gray hair had streaks of pure white. She gazed at Russet, her face set with cold condemnation. “Like an Arbora killing another Arbora, killing fledglings, killing a consort. You were a teacher.” She almost spat the word. “What have you become now?”

Russet snarled, her expression twitching through fury, desperation, despair, and back. “I… I did…” She snarled, “I did what I had to!”

The older Arbora said to Malachite, “You’re right. It’s this or exile, and she has reason to hate all of us now that we know her secret. We could never feel safe again.” She leaned down, caught Feather’s wrist, and hauled her up and away from Malachite.

Malachite swept the room with a glance, but there were no objections. All the Arbora watched her, waiting.

Russet broke and lunged away. Malachite moved so swiftly Moon didn’t realize it until he heard the crack of bone snapping. Russet collapsed, a limp heap. Moon heard the sigh as the last breath left her lungs.

Moon didn’t flinch, his reactions slowed by the aftereffects of the poison, but he was the only one. A low hiss sounded through the room, of dismay, relief, sorrow.

Malachite turned away. A few of the Arbora stood, one draped a blanket over the body, and they began to gather it up. The others spoke quietly, sadly.

Moon didn’t feel any satisfaction; mostly what he felt was emptiness. Swift had seen terrible things. Not knowing that the Fell could influence Raksuran minds, it must have been a profound shock. She must have thought everyone in the court had gone mad. If she hadn’t, she would have tried to look for other survivors, and your life would have been completely different. He had no idea how he felt about that. It seemed pointless to feel anything about it at all. He looked up to realize Malachite stood over him. She said, “Go and rest now.”

She showed absolutely no sign, in her eyes or expression or body language, that she had just killed an Arbora. All the others in the room, warriors and Arbora alike, even though they had known what was coming and supported it, were either as shocked as if the floor had just collapsed under them or looked as drained and worn as if they had been ill for months. Moon pushed those thoughts aside. “I want to talk to you about the Fell.”

“You need to rest, or you’ll be unable to do anything including talk.” After a moment, she flicked a spine in resignation. “I’ll make no decision about the groundling city today. We’ll speak of it tomorrow morning.”

He knew it was a concession, but he wasn’t sure it was enough. “Is there time?”

“There should be,” Celadon said. “Our last report from the scouts said that the Fell haven’t moved toward the city yet.”

Yet, Moon thought, but he didn’t protest when Auburn came to help him to his feet.

Chapter Fourteen

Moon got to his feet slowly and left with Auburn. Just outside the queens’ chamber they were joined by Chime, who had been hiding in the passage. No one said anything, and as they made their way through the corridors, the whole colony was quiet and somber. Moon was thinking that he would need to send Chime with a message for Jade; he needed to talk to her for a number of different reasons, but he didn’t think he could make the walk to the flying boat right now. So it was a relief when they reached the consorts’ hall and he saw that Jade sat beside the hearth with Stone.

Jade stood. Her gaze swept over him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was on his feet and moving. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, and drew the robe around him more tightly. He was shivering and still felt feverish. “Malachite killed her.”

Jade took a sharp breath. “I see.”

Stone grimaced and took the kettle off the hearth to pour tea. “It’s a bad thing, but I don’t see that Malachite had a choice.”

“Russet admitted everything,” Auburn said, and steadied Moon as he sank down to sit on a pile of handy cushions. “Well, almost everything. But she was under no Fell influence.”

Jade sat next to Moon, watching him with concern. Then her brows lifted. She touched the ivory disk on his chest with a delicate claw, frowning. “What is that?”

“Malachite gave it to me.” Moon turned it so she could see the stain. “It’s got blood on it, so…”

“Oh.” Jade withdrew her hand, her spines flicking in consternation. Then she asked, “Did Russet say what it was that she was afraid you had remembered?”

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse again. Moon took the cup of tea Stone passed him and drank it before he told her what Russet had said. “I must have seen her kill the others, but I don’t remember anything.”

“Did you know Russet?” Chime asked Auburn. “I mean, was she your friend, or…”

“I don’t know why she would do this,” Auburn answered the unspoken question. He looked drawn and weary. “I think the realization of what she had done, the guilt and the fear of it being revealed, the deaths of so many in the court… I think it turned her mind, and she was canny enough to hide it from us all this time. I don’t think the real Russet, the Russet we knew, survived the attack.”

Everyone was silent as they considered that uncomfortable thought.

Jade stirred and tugged absently at the hem of a cushion. “But it can’t be her who told the new Fell flight about the crossbreeds. If they had no connection with her mind…”

Stone rubbed his eyes wearily. “It means there’s someone else here who did.”

Auburn’s expression was even more grim. “The mentors are searching among those who returned from the old colony.” He shook his head. “After all this time, and the death of the Fell rulers, I don’t think an influence could have lasted. It didn’t with Russet.”

Moon heard light steps in the passage, then Lithe appeared in the doorway. He assumed she was here to take Auburn’s place, but she hesitated a moment. “I wanted to speak to you all, about the Fell.”

Jade glanced at Moon, and he nodded. She told Lithe, “Come and sit down.”

Lithe crossed behind Auburn and took a seat on a cushion, facing them all. She took a deep breath. “I’m under suspicion, because the ruler hiding in the groundling city told Celadon that the Fell came here for crossbreeds. Everyone wonders why this flight came here, now, after so long, if they weren’t called by one of us. By a crossbreed. Because I’m a mentor, I’m the most likely.”

It might be most likely, but Moon doubted it. Maybe that made him a fool, but he just couldn’t see Lithe as a Fell spy. Part of it was her physical appearance; she didn’t look any more like the groundling form of a dakti than Moon or Jade did. The other factor was the look in her eyes. She didn’t have that Fell emptiness, the feeling that you were talking to a shell that was only intermittently filled with personality. He had seen too many rulers close up to mistake that.

He reminded himself that Russet hadn’t seemed suspicious, either.

Jade tilted her head, watching Lithe with a thoughtful intensity. Lithe didn’t flinch from it, but the bronze of her cheeks darkened in a flush. Jade said, “But why would you? You don’t seem to have been badly treated here.”

“I haven’t been, Malachite made sure of that. This is my home, my court, why should I betray it?” Lithe spread her hands. “But I’m half-Fell. It’s not that I don’t understand their suspicion. Somehow this flight knows about us, knows that we’re here. Malachite is certain none of the rulers of the flight that attacked us survived. We should have no connection to the Fell, no way for them to find us.”

Stone said, “The Fell know their own. Rulers can sense each other over long distances.”

“But I would feel it,” Lithe protested. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m a mentor. I would know. I’m sure I would. And if they can’t touch my mind, how could they touch any of the others, who have no mentor senses?”

Jade asked Chime, “Is that possible?”

Chime’s expression was deeply conflicted. “Flower sensed the Fell were watching the old Indigo Cloud colony long before we found any evidence of it, and they weren’t even focusing on her. I’d think… I’d think a half-Fell mentor would have to know that their attention was on her, that they were trying to touch her mind.” He shrugged helplessly. “But I can’t say for certain. It’s not as if there are precedents for this.”

Auburn was looking at him oddly. “I agree. But how do you… ?”

“I used to be a mentor,” Chime said irritably. “I changed, because our court was under pressure and didn’t have enough warriors.” He hesitated. “That… It’s never happened to anyone here, after so many warriors were killed in the eastern colony?”

Auburn was thoughtful now. “No. But I recall something in the histories about such things happening in the past.”

Moon asked Lithe, “Are we related?”

That caught Lithe by surprise. She stared for a moment, then dropped her gaze. She fiddled with the beads on one of her bracelets. “I don’t know. I never saw… I was still a baby, when Malachite rescued us. The earliest thing I remember is the nurseries here.”

Malachite would know, Moon thought. Lithe might have been the daughter of one of the captured Arbora, but everyone had told him that consorts were more likely to father Arbora mentors.

Stone’s expression didn’t give any hint as to whether he believed Lithe or not. “So why are you talking to us?”

Lithe gestured in appeal. “I need help to prove that I and the rest of the crossbreeds have nothing to do with the Fell.” She faced Jade again. “And you want to take Moon as your consort, and Malachite won’t talk about that until after she destroys this Fell flight. So I want to set a trap. The Fell want crossbreeds. Let’s make them think they can get one. Use me as bait. Then we can catch a ruler and make it tell us how it knew about the court.”

Jade tilted her head. “‘We’ can catch a ruler?”

“Well, you and the line-grandfather, and the other queens,” Lithe admitted. “But I know Moon wants to talk to the Aventeran groundlings again. If you go there and take me with you, perhaps the Fell who are watching the city will come after me. We could camp for the night, in a vulnerable spot—”

“And the Fell won’t find that suspicious,” Stone commented blandly.

Lithe glared at Stone in frustration, but Moon said, “They would be suspicious, but that wouldn’t stop them from attacking us. They’d send some dakti or even a lesser ruler to spring the trap just to see what we wanted.” From Stone’s description it was a huge flight, and there were bound to be more rulers like Ivades, young and stupid enough to let the others send them on dangerous tasks.

“We had a ruler at Aventera,” Stone pointed out, “and we didn’t have much luck getting the truth out of him.”

“You smashed him too hard,” Moon reminded him. “And that was before we knew he had anything to tell us except that the Fell were here to eat the city.”

“Yes,” Lithe said with spirit. “If you don’t kill our captives, we might get more information.”

Jade regarded Stone. “You just don’t want us to do this.”

“I don’t, because it’s a bad plan,” Stone said. Then he shrugged in resignation. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think we should do it. She’s right; the court has to know how the Fell found out about the crossbreeds. We’re not going to be able to get Malachite to let you have Moon until this is all settled.” He gave Moon a grim glare. “You haven’t helped with that at all.”

That part at least was not Moon’s fault. “I’ve been busy almost dying,” he pointed out.

Lithe sat up, hope in her expression. “Then you’ll help me?”

Jade’s spines flicked in annoyance at all of them. She turned to Moon. “You and Celadon already tried to warn the groundling city and they didn’t listen, even when they saw they had a Fell in their midst.”

“But Delin said he would try to talk to them. If they don’t listen to him… Then they’re on their own.” Moon rubbed his face. “I just want to try one more time.”

Jade pressed her lips together, clearly not happy. “Is this about Saraseil?”

He glared at her. “Of course it’s about Saraseil. It’s about every groundling settlement that was ever attacked by Fell.”

Jade growled under her breath, but said, “And how am I going to talk your birthqueen who hates me into this?”

“I’ll take care of that part,” Moon told her.

* * *

Malachite had already refused to speak to Moon about any of this until tomorrow, so he spent the rest of the day trying to shake off the last effects of the poison. This involved mostly sleeping, drinking water and tea, eating small quantities of fruit and bread to make sure his insides could handle it, and being poked at by various mentors.

At Moon’s insistence, Jade brought Delin back to the consorts’ hall so Moon could talk to him about the Aventerans. They met up in Moon’s bower for privacy.

Delin had brought his book of notes and sketches and added to it as he sat beside the hearth and listened to Jade describe Lithe’s plan. The idea so far was to take Delin’s flying boat to the city so he could speak to the Aventerans about the Fell. Then on the way back, Lithe and the other Raksura would stop at a flying island to camp for the night while the boat returned to the colony. Hopefully the Fell would take the chance offered to try to capture Lithe. But Stone, Malachite, and a number of warriors would already be concealed nearby. That was the plan, if they could get all the people involved to cooperate.

There had been some discussion of whether they should try to set the trap on the way to the city, and what would happen if the Fell attacked the ship before they reached the spot where the others would be lying in wait. It was a risk, but Stone thought that if they were likely to be attacked at all, it would be after the ship had visited the city. There hadn’t been any hint of Fell presence in the fringe of the Reaches, only on the city’s plateau and the plains beyond.

When Jade finished describing this, Delin said, “I agree, under one condition.”

Moon had been expecting this. Delin had come a long way across largely unknown territory for the chance to see the Reaches and to visit Raksuran colonies. He would have been shocked if the old man had shown any sign of turning back now. Jade nodded, and said, “You want to be paid? We can give you more pearls.”

Delin gave her a look that combined amusement and pity. “My family are traders and explorers; I am a scholar. My payment is to be allowed to stay at your temporary camp and see the Fell with my own eyes, and to watch your interrogation of the ruler.”

Yes, that was what Moon had thought. He said, “You want to end up like what’s-his-name who visited the Ghobin?”

Delin snorted. “You mean Venar-Inram-Alil, who was a very famous scholar of predatory species.”

“From what you said, he’s a very famous dead scholar of predatory species.”

“He was not accompanied by Raksura,” Delin countered. “But this is not a risk I would ask the rest of my young crew to take. Or allow them to take, even if they asked. I would stipulate that the crew remain here under the care of this court. And that if I do not return and the ship cannot be salvaged, that a message be carried to our family on the Golden Isles, so a new ship can be sent to retrieve them.”

The scales above Jade’s brow furrowed. Possibly she was doing the same as Moon, and envisioning an outcome where this went so wrong that Delin ended up dead and his flying boat destroyed. She said, “I agree that the other groundlings on your boat should be left behind, if you stay with us to bait the trap… But I wish you wouldn’t stay with us.”

“I’m an old man,” Delin said seriously. “I cannot allow these chances to understand more of our worlds pass me by.”

Jade tried, but Delin wouldn’t change his mind. Moon gave up, told him he could stay to draw the carvings in the consorts’ bowers and hall, and curled up in the furs to go back to sleep.

Moon woke sometime later, clear-headed and ravenously hungry. He threw back the blanket that covered his head and sat up, rubbing bleary eyes. “I need to eat.”

Chime said, “Uh, there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

Moon looked up. Shade sat on a cushion near the doorway, while Chime sat near the bowl hearth and watched him nervously. No one else was in the room, and their attitudes seemed very awkward. It dawned on Moon that Chime might not have trouble with Lithe, who looked like any other young Arbora, but that Shade’s pale skin was just too close to how a Fell ruler appeared in groundling form. Moon said, “Chime, go ask them to bring me something to eat. A grasseater.”

Chime glanced at him, worried. “Are you sure?”

Moon hissed. He was starving. “Yes, go.”

Chime reluctantly got to his feet. “You want me to get Stone first?”

“Not unless he has a grasseater.”

Clearly still unhappy, Chime stepped out of the bower. From scent and sound, Moon and Shade were the only ones here. The mentors had eased off their vigilance in the late afternoon, when it had become clear that Moon was improving at the right pace. Jade had left to go to the flying boat at sunset, it having been made clear to her through a fairly diplomatic Celadon that staying overnight in Moon’s bower would occasion a violent reaction on Malachite’s part. Moon had no idea where Stone was.

Shade asked, “Are you all right?” He looked uneasy. “They told me what happened. I wanted to see you last night but they said it wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’m fine.” Moon ran his hands through his hair and scratched his scalp vigorously. He felt better now than he had all day, except for being about to starve to death. “If you’d come last night, I wouldn’t have known you were here.”

Shade nodded, then carefully broached the uncomfortable topic everyone who came to the bower wanted to talk about. “About Russet… I don’t understand how something like that could happen.”

Moon started to speak, hesitated, then decided there was no point in withholding it. He said, “The Fell made her do things she couldn’t live with, so she didn’t. She became a different person.”

Shade took that in silently. After a moment, he said, “Your warrior was afraid of me.”

“The Fell crossbreeds he’s seen weren’t like you.”

Shade lifted his shoulders as if shaking something off his back. “I think of it, sometimes. What I’d be like if Malachite hadn’t rescued us. It’s not just that they live so differently. No stories, no books, no carving, no drawings. The mentors say the Fell don’t feel things like we do. I feel things all the time. I feel a lot of things. I just don’t…” The words came out in an impulsive burst, as if he had held them back for a long time. “I don’t see how I could be part of that. I know I am, I mean, I know it’s not some mistake and I’m just a funny-looking Raksura, but…”

“They feel things,” Moon said. He had seen enough himself to know it was true. “They get angry, they care about each other. At least the rulers do. Maybe the kethel and the dakti do, too, but just not in a way we can understand. But they don’t care about anything else. They’re predators, we’re prey. To them, that’s all there is.”

Shade said, wearily, “I don’t even like to watch the Arbora hunt.” He hesitated, then seemed to gather his resolve. “I want to go to the groundling city and be bait for the Fell.”

Moon stared. “How did you find out about that?”

“Lithe told me. Can I go?”

That was an easy question. “No.”

“Why not? I’m a consort, I’m much better bait than Lithe.” He added, as if it was self-evident, “And besides, she’s a mentor. She shouldn’t be put in danger.”

“Consorts shouldn’t be put in danger either.” Moon felt like a hypocrite saying it, but it was theoretically true, as far as the Raksura were concerned.

“Consorts who can breed shouldn’t be put in danger,” Shade corrected. “I can’t. But Lithe is a very good mentor.”

Moon felt he was too hungry to argue effectively. “If Malachite agrees to this at all, she’ll never agree to let you be bait.”

“She might.” Shade leaned forward, hopeful and persuasive. “If you ask her.”

Persuading Malachite at all was going to be tricky enough without this complication. “I won’t. This is your idea. You ask her.”

Shade might have continued trying to convince him, but Chime came back with two Arbora bearing recently killed grasseater haunches, and Moon was obviously too distracted for conversation. Moon shifted to be able to eat more effectively, and tore through his weight in fresh meat.

Shade left by the time he finished, and Stone reappeared again. Chime, watching Moon settle into the blankets, said, “I talked to Auburn. He said they wouldn’t let me use their library, because I’m not a mentor. But he would have some of the younger mentors look up the stories he remembered about Arbora changing into warriors for me.”

“That’s good.” Moon wasn’t sure it was good, at least not for Chime’s peace of mind. “What do you think they’ll find?”

“Nothing important.” Chime absently carded his fingers through the fur. “I just thought I should learn all I can, and this is such an old court.” He hesitated, and Moon started to think this conversation wasn’t really what Chime wanted to talk about. Then Chime said, “So that was really your…”

“Half clutchmate,” Moon supplied. So Chime really had been uneasy around Shade.

Chime rubbed his arms, uncomfortable. “Do you trust him?”

Stone, already stretched out on the blankets on the other side of the hearth, made a disparaging noise. It was either an editorial comment on the trustworthiness of half-Fell Raksura or on Moon’s ability to trust anybody; it was hard to tell which. Moon ignored him, and told Chime, “I don’t know. I think so. But he’s just been living here. He hasn’t been put in a situation where he…” He tried to think how to put it. “Where he would need to be trusted.”

Chime didn’t look happy. He pulled a blanket around and arranged it into a nest next to Moon. “But Malachite won’t let him come along to help bait the trap, will she?”

“No. No, she won’t.” Moon felt fairly certain of that. The trouble was going to be getting her to let them do it at all.

* * *

Early the next morning, after a quick consultation with Stone to find out how to approach a queen in formal Raksuran fashion, Moon sent Chime to ask Rise to ask Malachite if she would speak to him alone in her bower. He wanted to keep the meeting private, just in case the mentors were wrong and there was someone in the court who had been Fell-influenced. He also thought meeting without the pressure of an audience would make it easier, maybe on both of them.

Rise returned with Chime with gratifying speed, and told Moon Malachite would see him. Trying to put all his nerves and unresolved anger aside, Moon followed her.

Malachite’s private bower was a little way past the queens’ hall. It was a big room with a ceiling that formed a peak, with carvings of queens arching up the walls. Like some of the others Moon had seen in Opal Night, the hearth was on a low pedestal of stone. There was a strong scent of waterfall spray in the air, and a fall of natural light indicated an opening to the central well somewhere above one of the upper level balconies. The spell-lights were made of clumps of vine, growing out of niches in the carving.

When Rise led Moon in, a few warriors sat around on the scattered cushions and furs; Malachite flicked a claw and they all scrambled to leave.

Rise waited until Moon had taken a seat on the furs across from Malachite, then she departed.

Moon took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Malachite said, “You’re wearing it.”

He knew she meant the ivory disk she had given him. It was still around his neck on a leather thong, a cool circle against his groundling skin. “It belonged to… your consort?” He couldn’t make himself say “my father” in front of her.

“Yes.” She didn’t seem to want to hear it from him anymore than he wanted to say it. “I found it—” She cut the words off.

Moon wasn’t sure what prompted him, but he said, “You can tell me.”

She rippled her spines, in a way he couldn’t interpret, but she said, “The progenitor had it.” She tilted her head to look at him, her gaze sharp and direct. “The others don’t know. You may tell Celadon, if you wish. But not Shade.” She added, “I gutted her, so she could watch me kill her favorite rulers before she died.”

“I won’t tell Shade.” Moon tried to think how much control Malachite must have had over the Fell flight by that point to be able to torture the progenitor in such a leisurely fashion. “How did you do it?”

It wasn’t a very coherent question, but Malachite understood what he meant. Still holding his gaze, she said, “We took them at a vulnerable moment, when they were sated after feeding on a groundling city. It was built out of a rocky promontory, and had narrow corridors, small doors and windows. Not an ideal space for combat for the major kethel, or the dakti swarms. I caught one of the rulers outside and broke him, and he told me where the progenitor and the other rulers slept. I caught them unawares. The warriors started an avalanche that blocked the rest of the flight’s escape.” The claws of her right hand slowly flexed, almost involuntarily, the only hint that the memory affected her. “As they did to us.”

Maybe it was just that simple. Kill the rulers and the progenitor, and it didn’t matter if some of the infertile dakti or even the kethel survived. From everything Moon had seen and heard over the turns, the dakti and kethel lacked the ability to make mental connections with other Fell flights, and would not be offered shelter. “How do you break a ruler?”

She looked down at her hand and flexed her claws deliberately this time. It was a thoughtful rather than threatening gesture, as if she noticed they sometimes flexed on their own and was bemused by it. “The mentors believe that it’s impossible. But the Fell don’t lie when they say we were once the same species. And the rulers are used to obeying their female progenitors.” She met his eyes again. “That need can be used against them.”

Moon felt the skin creep right up his spine; it was partly uneasiness and partly a stir from his prey reflex. Thinking about killing Fell made his fingers itch. He said, “Is that what you’re planning to do to this Fell flight? Let them destroy Aventera and then attack while they’re vulnerable inside the city?”

Malachite tilted her head, but something in her otherwise opaque expression seemed more amused than angry. “It crossed my mind.”

“But the Fell know Opal Night is here, now. They won’t be vulnerable. They may use the city to set a trap for us.”

“True.” She had clearly considered the possibility already but just wasn’t much concerned by it. “What do you propose?”

Moon had been thinking about this since he had first seen the city. “The groundlings at Aventera have projectile weapons, and flying craft. If they had time to prepare, and our help, they could set traps for the Fell. Like a flying craft driven into the giant sac the major kethel carried here, that then bursts into flame.” He would bet that the Aventerans had things that could burst into flame on command; they seemed like that kind of people.

“It’s a possibility.” But Malachite didn’t sound as if it was a possibility she preferred. She studied him so intently, Moon wanted to twitch. Sensing she might be testing his resolve, he didn’t. “But the groundlings don’t trust us enough to take our counsel, let alone our direction in battle.”

It was hard enough to talk to a powerful Raksuran queen; this was like talking to a member of a completely different and unfamiliar species. Moon couldn’t tell if he had a chance of convincing her of anything or if she just kept replying because she liked looking at him and wanted the encounter to continue. He persisted, “But they might trust Delin, the groundling scholar from the Golden Isles. He’s used to speaking to all different species, and he knows a lot about Fell.” Moon wasn’t certain how much of a diplomat Delin was; possibly he was far too straightforward to be very good at it, at least with people like the Aventerans. But it was still worth a try. “If we speak through him, they may listen.”

Malachite’s tail actually almost twitched. “Delin is the old groundling from the flying ship, who saved your life?”

Moon frowned. “He saved my life?”

“Lithe said the simple he gave you aboard the ship slowed the poison’s progress. It gave the mentors time to act.”

“That’s him.” Moon considered adding that Delin really wanted to speak to the Aventerans and would take Malachite’s approval of this as a personal favor, but resisted the impulse.

Malachite said, “Lithe also came to me with a plan.”

“She told us about that, too. We want to combine her plan and ours.”

Malachite didn’t move, didn’t flick a spine, didn’t blink, but Moon got the sudden strong sense that he had just lost his audience. Her voice perceptibly colder, she said, “Lithe has no need to prove herself to me.”

“I think she knows that.” Moon knew the ground underfoot had suddenly turned treacherous, and he had no idea why. “But she wants to prove herself to the others.”

“What others?”

“I don’t know.” Moon added, “Maybe she wants to prove it to herself.”

He thought that was a pretty good answer, but Malachite evidently didn’t. “Lithe has never shown any need for this before.”

“The Fell never came here before.” Maybe he needed to put this on a less personal level. Moon had known Lithe for only a few days; he couldn’t claim to be an expert in what she needed or wanted. “Auburn told us the mentors are looking for people from the eastern colony who might have been influenced by the Fell, but they can’t find anyone. You need to know how the Fell found out about your crossbreeds.”

Malachite showed the tip of one fang. “How many of these thoughts came from the Sister Queen of Indigo Cloud?”

Moon felt his skin go hot with anger. “You’re insulting me.” He couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice.

“She has insulted both of us.” Malachite’s spines lifted. “She thinks to use this as a way to force me to acquiesce to her claim on you.”

“It’s not a claim. I’m taken. She asked me and I consented.”

“You had no idea what you were agreeing to.”

“I did in every way that mattered.”

“You had no right to consent—”

“Because you own me?” Moon’s patience snapped and he pushed to his feet. She wouldn’t let him shift, so he didn’t try. “You gave up any right to me when you left me behind.”

It was possibly the most deliberately cruel thing Moon had ever said to anybody, and he knew the instant the words were out he would regret them, but in this moment they were deeply satisfying. He saw Malachite take the blow and steel herself against her own reaction. Her spines rattled like a death knell, and the muscles in her jaw tightened, suppressing a growl or a hiss or the urge to bite his head off. But her anger was less frightening than the iron control in her voice. “Nevertheless. Indigo Cloud took advantage of you, knowingly.”

Moon had the sudden impulse to make that control snap. He hissed bitter amusement. “You’re lucky it was Indigo Cloud that found me.”

That did it. Malachite’s tail lashed. A real full-length lash clearly expressive of her angry consternation. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t know what I was. I could have become anything. I would have, if someone had promised me a place to belong. The first time I saw Fell, I thought I was one. Of course, in your court, that wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice rose and he couldn’t stop it. “You have no more right over me than that dead progenitor has over Shade!”

He turned toward the doorway. Malachite landed in front of him in a near-silent bound; Moon jerked back, hissing. She lifted her hands, claws retracted. “Wait.”

He stepped back, watching her warily.

“This changes nothing.” Malachite stepped away from the door. She had gone from rage to cool composure in less than a heartbeat. Her self-control was daunting, infuriating, and completely intact. “If your groundling agrees, let him ready his craft to go to Aventera. I’ll speak to Lithe and the other mentors about the rest.”

At the moment, all Moon wanted to do was yell more. He stepped past her and went through the passage out of the bower. When he reached the larger room just outside, he found several warriors sitting around the hearth staring at him in various degrees of shock. They had heard that last shout, and it would be all over the court by this afternoon. Growling under his breath, Moon shifted and tore out of the room.

He found Chime waiting for him in the passage back to the consorts’ hall. Chime took in his expression as Moon shifted back to groundling, and said, “You lost your temper?”

“Yes.” Moon made himself take a deep breath.

Chime’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “So she won’t let us talk to the groundlings or trap the Fell?”

“No. She’ll do that.” Moon was fairly sure of it. She would give that to him, because he wanted it. Malachite was willing to give him anything he wanted except Jade and Indigo Cloud.

Chapter Fifteen

As Moon predicted, Rise came to him around mid-morning to tell him that Malachite had agreed to Lithe’s plan.

After that, there was a flurry of preparations.

The spot chosen to set the trap was a flying island floating over the plain less than a half day of warriors’ flight from Aventera’s plateau. The group who would go and wait in hiding near it was small: Stone, Malachite, two of Onyx’s daughter queens, and some of their warriors. The Opal Night warriors were among those who had been examined by the mentors for Fell influence, but they wouldn’t be told where they were going or why until they reached the spot.

Jade and Balm were also going, though Moon wasn’t certain how Jade had managed it. He doubted Malachite had changed her opinion of Jade over the course of the morning.

Before they left, Moon managed to see Jade alone for a moment, catching her attention from a cubby off one of the colony entrance passages while the others assembled outside.

Jade glanced down the corridor cautiously as she stepped into the cubby. Moon asked her, “How did you get Malachite to let you come with her?”

Jade bared her teeth in frustration. “I didn’t, I’m just going. As a queen, I have every right to help defend the Reaches. If she tries to stop me, it’ll cause more trouble than it’s worth to her.” She hissed. “Of course, it’s hard to tell if she knows I’m going or not because she’s pretending I don’t exist.” She squeezed his wrist and said, “Are you really staying behind?”

There had been some discussion over whether Moon was well enough to go on the flying boat to Aventera or not, or if he should stay here. Moon was handling it by waiting until everyone with the authority or physical prowess to stop him had left to set the ambush, then he was going to join Delin and the others on the boat. This seemed to be the best way to avoid loud, emotionally-charged arguments. He had had too many of those lately.

“Probably… not,” Moon admitted reluctantly.

Jade twitched her spines, but didn’t object. Possibly she didn’t feel she had much right to argue with him, considering how she had inserted herself and Balm into the ambush portion of the plan. “Just be careful around those groundlings. You don’t know what the Fell have made them believe about us. And remember that Lithe is the bait, not you.”

It meant a great deal at that moment that she hadn’t tried to order him to stay behind or to talk him out of it. He managed to say, “You be careful, too. And Balm.”

Jade said, “We’ll be fine.” She pulled him close, nipped his neck gently, then slipped away.

Moon waited until Stone and the queens left, then went to the flying boat.

Delin’s crew of twelve young Islanders, most related to him, were not keen on the idea of letting him sail to Aventera alone, even with the help of friendly Raksura. Moon wasn’t sure how Delin convinced them or forced them, but they were reluctantly leaving the boat by climbing down a long rope ladder to the platform in front of the colony’s main entrance. Most of them carried small bags of belongings.

Feather and a few other Arbora waited for them down on the platform. Moon asked her, “Have you ever spent time with groundlings before?” He had suggested Feather be the one to take charge of Delin’s crew while they were here, to make sure they were comfortable and had access to food they could eat. Moon had chosen her because she was the only Arbora he felt he knew here. It also helped that she spoke enough Altanic to be able to communicate with them.

“No.” She smiled a little, glancing up at him. “It’ll be a good distraction, while we’re waiting.”

She meant waiting to see what the Fell would do. The court knew Malachite was acting on some sort of plan, but not the details. He said, “Hopefully it won’t be long.”

He shifted, and sprang up to catch hold of the boat’s railing. Below, Feather called out, “Be careful! We’ll see you in a few days!”

Moon swung down onto the deck and found himself facing Chime. “You’re going?” Chime stared. “I thought you were staying behind because you still needed to recover.”

“That’s what everybody thought,” Moon told him, and changed the subject before Chime could argue. “Where’s Celadon?”

Chime swallowed his objections with effort, and said, “Down in the hull.”

Moon went down the steps and found Celadon in the large common room with Delin. They had a piece of the pressed reed the Islanders used as paper spread out on the table, and Delin was drawing a rough map to Aventera from Celadon’s directions.

As Moon walked in, Celadon glanced up, surprised to see him. Then she frowned. “We should be leaving soon. Did you come to see us off?”

“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’m coming with you.”

Making a notation on the map, Delin raised a brow. “There was a question? I assumed you had always intended to accompany us.”

Celadon eyed Moon a moment, then sighed. “I’d argue with you, but I know that’s like arguing with a rock and I have to save what’s left of my patience for the Aventerans. At least, unlike the warriors, I know you’re not afraid to fight Fell.” She ruined it by adding dryly, “And if you collapse, we’ve got Lithe with us.”

Moon decided not to succumb to the urge to protest his health. He sat on the edge of the table and studied the map. “Did someone come up with a story for the court about where Malachite and the others were going?”

“We said they were going to plan the attack on the Fell.” Celadon didn’t look particularly satisfied with the explanation.

“It’s not as if anyone in the court is going to believe anything else,” Moon pointed out. “Simple lies are always better.”

Celadon lifted her brows, possibly at this evidence that Moon knew a lot about the best way to lie convincingly. “I see.”

Fortunately, footsteps came down the stairs at that point and Lithe stepped into the doorway. She had her satchel slung over her shoulder and wore an extra shawl over her work clothes. She looked around the room, curious and a little uneasy. Moon realized this must be her first time to leave the area around the colony, let alone to be on a flying boat. He didn’t know what to say to make her feel more comfortable, so he just asked, “Ready to go?”

“Yes.” Lithe took a deep breath and managed a wan smile. Above their heads the deck creaked as more Raksura landed. Moon assumed it was Celadon’s warriors. Lithe started a little at the unaccustomed sound of people walking on the thin wood above her head, and said, “I didn’t expect it would be so… odd, to think of leaving the colony, even for a few days.”

Celadon told her, “It’s brave of you. And if it works the way we hope, we’ll know what brought the Fell here.”

If it works the way we hope, Moon thought, and tried to suppress the urge to again mentally list everything that could go wrong.

Then someone dropped down the stairs and stepped into the doorway. It was a young queen about Celadon’s size, with a slender build. Her scales were a light gold webbed with copper. She saw Moon first, and acknowledged him with a tilt of her head and an opaque expression. Moon thought at first he had never met her before, then realized he had seen her with Onyx. She must be one of the other Opal Night bloodline’s daughter queens.

“Ivory,” Celadon said, sounding suspiciously neutral. “We’ll be leaving in a moment. Are your warriors aboard?”

“Yes. It’s a very strange craft.” She nodded politely to Delin. “This should be an interesting trip.”

Ivory, Moon thought. The queen that Onyx had gotten Umber to suggest as a possible match for Moon. Of all the things that could go wrong, that hadn’t even occurred to him as a possibility.

* * *

Under Delin’s direction, the warriors helped the flying boat cast off, while the Islander crew watched worriedly from the colony’s landing platform.

As the ship lifted above the ridge surrounding the split colony tree, Moon managed to catch Celadon alone in the bow, out of earshot of the others. Before he could speak, she said, “We thought it was better to have two queens aboard, in case the Fell struck before we reached the others. I didn’t know you planned to come. This is not my fault.”

That invalidated most of what Moon had been about to say. He fell back on, “Does she know I turned her down?”

“Yes. And more importantly, she knows Malachite does not approve of her offer.” Celadon hissed impatiently, then turned to wave to Delin in the steering cabin, indicating he should turn to the right more to avoid the branches of the standing portion of the tree. “You can’t be afraid of her. You saw Malachite’s reaction to Jade, the queen you want. What do you think she’d do to one who tried to touch you against your will? And besides that, I’m your clutchmate and I’m right here.”

“I don’t know how you can be my sister,” Moon said. “You’re so damn naive.”

She showed her fangs. “Just let her get to know you, then she definitely won’t bother you.”

The boat successfully navigated the colony’s valley, and made its way into the sparse forest of mountain-trees and rock that marked the fringe of the Reaches. The afternoon and evening was occupied by avoiding obstacles and in teaching the warriors how to help Delin sail the boat. Chime and Root already knew quite a bit from their previous trips on wind-ships, Chime because he still had his mentor’s curiosity and Root because his memory, honed by keeping track of everything everyone had ever said in his hearing, was as good as a written book.

Balm was the only Indigo Cloud warrior who had accompanied Jade. Besides Chime, Root, Floret, and Song, ten Opal Night warriors had come along on the boat. Five of them had come with Celadon on their previous trip to the city, and they treated Moon with a combination of wariness and respect that made their company undemanding. The other five belonged to Ivory and were led by Saffron, the female warrior Moon had ordered off the flying boat. Moon reminded himself that he was getting what he wanted, another chance to tell the Aventerans how to fight the Fell, and objecting to the company was pointless.

None of the tasks aboard the boat were difficult for Raksura, who were physically stronger than the smaller Islanders and had no fear of falling, so Moon left them to it. He found a spot up in the bow, where he could sit on a cask tied off to the rail and watch the forest go by.

The flying boat’s steady but more leisurely speed allowed for close observation of everything they passed, and it was fascinating to be able to study the individual mountain-trees, their shapes, the flowers and the riot of vegetation on their platforms, and the life that occupied them. Since the trees were further apart here, more light reached the ground far below, so Moon had a better view of the rocky gullies and gorges, the different levels of the jungle deep within. And there were occasional intriguing glimpses of the creatures that lived down in the shadowy crevices.

After a while, Chime wandered up to the bow, leaned against Moon’s side, and sighed heavily. Moon asked, “Everything all right?”

“Yes. It’s just… the waiting.” Chime admitted reluctantly, “I’m afraid to see Fell again. Not that I’ve seen them as closely as you have. But… I’d rather not.”

A hesitant voice said, “What are they like?”

Moon glanced around and saw Lithe sitting on the deck a little distance away, her back against a support that helped anchor the cables stretching up to the central mast. She had her shawl wrapped around her and looked forlorn. It was a strange question to hear her ask, and Moon and Chime must have had similar expressions. With a little asperity she added, “I may be half-Fell, but I’ve never seen one. Just drawings in books.” She leaned forward. “Tell me. I don’t want to be unprepared.”

Chime said, “They’re very frightening.” He made an impatient gesture, as if annoyed with his own words. “That goes without saying, but… We all know there are a lot of things out there that want to kill us and eat us, but there’s something different about Fell. Maybe it comes from being descended from the same species.”

There was a lot Moon could say, but he decided to try to get across the most important point. “Fell don’t just want to eat you, they want to own you. They act like they already do own you.”

Lithe hugged herself a little tighter. Chime hunched his shoulders unhappily and cast an uneasy glance out at the shadows under the mountain-trees.

Moon continued, “Almost everything they say to you is a lie, and it probably won’t be that hard for you to tell it’s a lie. But it’s worse when they tell you the truth.” Moon felt Chime draw breath to ask a question, then let it out as he thought better of it. “Even if what they say is true, you can’t let it matter to you. Don’t let yourself be trapped by it.”

Lithe’s expression was intent. “I think I understand.”

“You sound as if you discovered that the hard way,” a new voice said.

It was Ivory, standing on the deck a few paces behind them. She was in her Arbora form, her head inclined at a thoughtful angle. Celadon was nowhere in sight.

Moon eased down off the water cask in case a quick escape was called for, but Ivory stayed where she was. Lithe was watching him expectantly, and Chime looked uncomfortable but curious. Moon hadn’t intended to answer, but maybe Celadon was right: if Ivory got to know him better, she might lose interest. He said, “Before Indigo Cloud found me, I had never seen another Raksura. The first time I saw Fell, when they attacked a groundling city, I thought I might be one. So I asked one of the rulers if that was true.”

Lithe hissed in dismay. Ivory’s tail stirred in agitation, but she kept her voice under control as she asked, “And what did it say?”

“That I was a Fell.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, then said, “I didn’t believe it. I killed it to get away, but it shared the knowledge with other rulers before it died. The Fell followed me to Indigo Cloud, because they wanted to make more Raksuran crossbreeds.”

He was hoping Ivory would retreat in appalled horror, or say something that would make her disgust clear. Instead she just watched him thoughtfully. She said finally, “Thank you for telling me that.”

Damn it, Moon thought. He should have realized that being stalked by the Fell just wasn’t as shocking to the Raksura of Opal Night as it had been to Indigo Cloud. Before he could consider a precipitous retreat, Ivory said, “Lithe, I came up here to look for you. Celadon wants to speak to you about doing an augury.”

Lithe got to her feet and followed Ivory away toward the stern. Watching them, Chime said, “Celadon didn’t send another queen to fetch a mentor when there’s fourteen warriors on this boat with barely anything to do.” He added darkly, “She’s better at this than she seems. Be careful.”

“I know,” Moon muttered. He remembered Umber’s comment that Ivory would consider Moon a challenge; he had the feeling that this ostensibly subtle campaign might just be the first step. It had also belatedly occurred to him that Malachite might be enough of a strategist to express disapproval of Ivory’s proposal, both to lure Moon into a false sense of security and knowing that her approval would only make his resistance more stubborn. “It’s not going to work.” But he was very glad that Jade had come to Opal Night.

* * *

The flying boat had moved out of the fringe by the time the sky was starting to darken toward evening. The wind carried the rich scents of sweet grasses and a number of strange grasseaters.

As they crossed the plain, Moon saw a rock formation far ahead where bleached white pillars stretched up into arches, almost high enough to reach the boat’s hull, like the ribs of some giant creature. He hadn’t noticed it on their earlier trips back and forth across the plain, but they had come out of the fringe a little further to the north, and from so far above that the odd shape of the formation might not have been as apparent.

When they drew close enough for it to be visible to groundling eyes, Delin left Song in charge of the tiller and moved up to the railing beside Moon. That was when Moon realized the white shapes that looked like ribs were actually ribs. The ship was passing the skeletal remains of an enormous creature, collapsed and lying half-buried in the vegetation covering the plain.

The boat grew quiet, everyone staring. The head and most of the body were buried in grass as tall as small trees. The ribs were each as wide as the flying boat, weathered and cracked. Moon spotted movement and his prey reflex made his whole body twitch. But the motion was a groundling who had used ropes and climbing spikes to scale one of the arching ribs.

The groundling had dark green fur and its body was shaped like a treeling, but it had a bag slung over its shoulder and hammered on the bone with an ax-like tool. Holes all over the ribs indicated this activity had been going on for some time. Mining, Moon realized, cutting into the bone for the dried marrow inside it. He saw more movement in the tangle of greenery at the skeleton’s base; there must be more groundlings at work down there, maybe a camp, or some means to transport the marrow.

Astonished and caught unaware by the craft’s silent approach, the climber stopped hammering to stare as the flying boat drew even with its position on the rib. It lifted its free hand hesitantly in greeting; Delin lifted a hand in return as the boat drifted past.

The groundling continued to stare after the boat, leaning down and angling its head for a better view of the underside of the hull. Moon watched it until the skeleton vanished into distance and twilight; it was a reminder that other peoples were depending on them to destroy this Fell flight, whether they knew it or not.

For her part, Ivory had scrupulously done nothing to annoy Moon or to pursue her interest with him. She never stood too close to him on deck, stepped aside to let him go through doorways first. This should have been reassuring, but it had the effect of making him acutely aware of her presence at all times. Moon didn’t think it was unintentional.

Leaning against the rail, Celadon watched Moon regard Ivory with deep suspicion, and said in exasperation, “I don’t know what Indigo Cloud is like, but neither Malachite nor Onyx would ever tolerate the kind of behavior you seem to expect from Ivory. We weren’t raised that way.”

Perversity made him ask, “Did Malachite beat you for misbehaving?”

“Hah. If you had to sit in front of her and Onyx, explaining exactly what you were thinking when you decided it was a good idea to pick a fight with one of your clutch cousins, you’d wish for a beating instead.”

Moon found himself mentally storing that tactic away for use on Frost, and reminded himself his future at Indigo Cloud was anything but secure.

Night settled over the ship. They were close enough to the ground to hear the hum of the evening insects, but not close enough to be troubled by them. A wary Saffron brought an invitation for Moon and Celadon to eat with Ivory. Moon told Saffron he wasn’t hungry and went to hide below decks.

Ivory’s and Celadon’s warriors had divided up the duties of the boat and of standing guard, so there wasn’t much for the Indigo Cloud warriors to do. They all ended up with Moon in one of the smaller sleeping cabins.

“This is frustrating,” Floret muttered, as she settled on the floor near the doorway. “They’re doing all the work. We look like useless hangers-on.”

“There’s still the Fell to worry about,” Song pointed out, as she pushed Root over to make room for her blanket. “If we’re lucky, we’ll have a chance to fight.”

“You’re both insane,” Chime told them. “We’ll be lucky if we never see a Fell again.”

Moon agreed, but he didn’t think it was likely to happen. There was more grumbling, and complaints, but eventually they all settled down. The wood of the deck was soft and springy, and it made a good bed. With Chime cuddled against him and surrounded by the others’ familiar scents, sleep came quicker than Moon would have thought.

Sometime later Moon jolted awake, accidentally elbowing Chime. “Umf?” Chime asked, blearily.

Moon shushed him. None of the others had moved, but he could see Floret’s eyes were open. Moon whispered, “Did you hear that?”

“Yes.” Moving carefully, she pushed herself up on one elbow. “Something just below us?”

“I heard it too,” Song whispered.

Root began, “I didn’t—”

It happened again—Moon felt it more than heard it— a surreptitious scrape on the wood below. On the underside of the hull, he thought. Chime hissed. Moon leaned down close to the planks and took a deep breath, tasting the air. But the hull was too thick here and all he could scent was Raksura.

Moon pointed up to the deck and said softly, “Move quietly. One at a time.” He climbed slowly to his feet. Stepping carefully around Chime, he picked his way silently across the floor to the doorway. He shifted, then scaled the doorframe to the ceiling, hooking his claws in the narrow bands of wood, and swung out into the hall. One of Ivory’s warriors, a big female named Fleet, was on guard in her shifted form, hanging from the doorway. “What—?” she started to ask.

“Quiet,” Moon hissed. “There’s something underneath the boat. Warn the others.” He climbed up the stairwell to the deck.

It was night; a cool breeze blew across the bow, scented of green grasses. There was no hint of Fell in it. Lamps hung on the bow and at the steering cabin. Delin, Celadon, and Lithe sat in its doorway, talking softly. Delin was making notes in one of his books. One of Celadon’s warriors crouched atop the cabin, keeping watch.

They glanced up as Moon appeared, and Celadon’s spines lifted as she sensed his tension. He crouched down beside her and said, low-voiced, “There’s something on the bottom of the hull. We heard it move.”

Celadon hissed under her breath and uncoiled to rise soundlessly to her feet. Lithe’s eyes widened and Delin calmly closed his book and pushed it inside the cabin door. Chime, Floret, and the other warriors crept quietly up from below. Ivory and her warriors followed.

Celadon motioned them all to come close, and whispered, “Ivory, take your warriors out along that side of the boat and get ready to climb down. My warriors come with me.”

Moon started to follow Celadon, but she added, “Moon, stay with Lithe.”

Moon grimaced, but obeyed, retreating to the cabin. Lithe stood in the doorway, bouncing nervously. “Do you scent Fell?” she asked. “I can’t.”

Moon shook his head. “No. It may be something else.”

Chime, Floret, Song, and Root gathered around the cabin, all shifted and braced for trouble. It was a clear night and the moon was nearly full, silver light shining down on grassland broken by clumps of rock, some wrought by weather into smooth rounded shapes, like the towers of a ruined city. Several flying islands of various sizes dotted the sky above, their shapes blotting out the stars. Moon had a flash of memory, of the furred groundling hanging from the giant rib bone, leaning down to peer under the ship’s hull. He cursed under his breath. It wasn’t just curious, it saw something down there.

“What?” Chime whispered nervously.

“Nothing,” Moon said. Then he heard Celadon’s voice, getting louder as she climbed up the side of the boat. “…You little idiot! I can’t believe this!” She swung herself over the rail onto the deck. “What is Malachite going to say to you? What is she going to say to me?”

A dark shape followed her, and Moon heard rather than saw it shift. Then another familiar voice said, “It’s not your fault.”

Shade. Moon clapped a hand over his eyes and hissed. Malachite was going to go insane. They would be lucky if she didn’t order them all back to the colony the instant she saw him.

Chime said, “Him? Uh-oh.”

Lithe said, glumly, “Oh, this isn’t good. Malachite is going to be very upset.”

“No kidding,” Moon muttered.

“But who is this?” Delin asked, peering into the darkness.

As Lithe explained who Shade was, Moon shifted to groundling and went to the group at the railing.

The warriors gathered around as Celadon demanded, “What did you think you were doing?”

“I wanted to help.” Shade sounded embarrassed, at least. He was in his groundling form now and had clearly prepared for the trip with a small pack over one shoulder. This hadn’t been a last moment impulse, then. He said, “Hello, Moon,” and added to Celadon, “I’ll make sure Malachite knows it was all my idea.”

Sounding grim, Ivory said, “When Malachite sees you, she might order us all back to the colony.”

Shade protested, “She won’t. This is a good plan. She won’t stop it just because I’m here.”

Celadon folded her arms. “Sure of that, are you?”

“Yes.” It could have seemed arrogant, but coming from Shade it just sounded earnest and naive.

Ivory’s spines rippled in annoyance. “We can send him home with an escort of warriors.”

“You need all the warriors with you,” Shade told her. “Besides, I won’t go.”

There was general hissing and spine-flicking from everyone standing around, but no one disputed the point, and no one seemed to know what to do. It was clear from Shade’s behavior, and the reactions of the queens and warriors, that he hadn’t done anything requiring rebuke since he had left the nurseries. Obviously Malachite’s potential wrath wasn’t threat enough to force him to go back to the colony.

Moon had had enough, and didn’t see any use in continuing to argue. He said, “Shade, let’s go down to the cabins and talk.” He caught Shade’s wrist and hauled him out of the circle of queens and warriors.

Shade meekly followed him down the stairs, but once they were in the belowdecks passage, he asked, “Are you angry with me?”

Moon stopped in the doorway to the sleeping cabin. He didn’t want a half-Fell half-brother who seemed determined to force the relationship which they had had for all of a few days, but he was stuck with one, and there seemed no way out of it now. And Shade was sheltered and innocent, and yet seemed to have no illusions about what he was. He said, “Yes.”

Shade followed Moon into the cabin, and managed to look contrite, though it appeared to be an effort. He had dressed in a plain, dark-colored shirt and pants of the same light material used for work clothes for hunters and warriors. The small pack he carried couldn’t have held much food, but he had at least left his good jewelry at home, and wore only a copper bracelet and an anklet with copper and ivory disks. He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you did this?” Moon folded his arms. “I don’t think so.”

Shade didn’t argue that. He offered, “I’m sorry everyone’s upset.”

Moon hissed under his breath. “If Malachite sends us all home, will you be sorry for that?”

“She won’t!”

“You don’t know that.”

“But the trap is better this way.” Shade seemed utterly certain of this. “It may not be Lithe the Fell want at all. It may be me.”

“That’s exactly what Malachite is afraid of.”

Shade appeared to at least consider this, looking a little troubled, but he didn’t volunteer to return to the colony. “I was hanging onto the bottom of the boat all day. Can I have something to eat?”

Moon gave in. “Come on,” he said wearily, and took Shade to the main cabin for food.

* * *

By dawn they had an escort, one of the flying bladder-boats. It was a fairly big one, with several balconies built out from its boat-shaped cabin, possibly for firing weapons. No one shot at them or appeared in any of the doorways, but Moon spotted several faces peering at them through the glass windows.

“It’s a primitive contraption.” Delin studied it through a copper spyglass. “I wonder how they steer it.”

“With great difficulty?” Chime suggested, leaning on the railing beside Delin.

“At least they aren’t trying to stop us,” Moon said. The occupants of the bladder-boat had to know the Raksura were returning; several of the warriors in their winged forms perched on the cabin roof, the railings, or up on the lookout post atop the mast.

Moon looked toward the bow, where Celadon, Ivory, and Shade stood. Just coming into view was the seated statue carved out of the plateau, the lake at its feet, and other bladder-boats making their slow way toward it. Shade gripped the railing, his whole body language expressing rapt attention. At least he’s enjoying it, Moon thought, still feeling a little sour about the whole situation.

The wind grew gusty and strong as they drew near the city, and Delin ordered the warriors to help him close up and fasten the sails. Depending on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds, the ship was less at the mercy of the wind than the Aventerans’ bladder-boats. But it could still be torn apart in a bad storm, and the harsh gusts made it difficult to maneuver.

An Aventeran, wrapped up in a heavy coat, stepped out onto one of the bladder-boat’s balconies and shouted at them in Kedaic, telling them where to land. Since flying boats didn’t actually land on the ground, this could be a problem. Grumbling under his breath, Delin sent Chime to the steering cabin for something he called a speaking tube, which turned out to be a cone that amplified the voice somewhat when you shouted through it.

Leaning over the rail to look at the platform the Aventeran had indicated, Moon asked, “Can you even get the boat down there?”

“Eventually.” With an air of dissatisfaction, Delin examined the spot with his spyglass. “They have some hooks and rings for tying off their own craft. I would have to drop the anchor blocks, tie off to secure them, and then winch the ship down.” He lowered the spyglass and frowned. “It would be easier if we tied off at this level and one of you flew me over to a balcony.”

Celadon and Ivory had come over to listen. Celadon said, “Tell them that. Depending on the conversation we have, we may not be staying long.”

Delin took the speaking tube from Chime and conducted an argument with the bladder-boat. Finally it gave in and they were directed to a broad, relatively sheltered balcony just below the right shoulder of the giant statue.

As Delin maneuvered the boat closer, Moon saw several Aventerans appear on the balcony. He recognized Ennia, but Havram was absent. Hopefully that was a good sign. From their grim expressions, none of the Aventerans were particularly glad to see them.

Ivory studied the balcony with a faint frown. “Should I come with you?” she asked Celadon.

“No. I’ll take my warriors, Moon, and Delin. And no, not you, Shade,” she added as he opened his mouth to object. “You’re here against my will and without Malachite’s permission, and I have no intention of rewarding you with a tour of a groundling city.”

Shade subsided and at least looked a little chastened.

Lithe hunched her shoulders in a spine-settling gesture that looked odd on her slim groundling form. “Be careful. They don’t look friendly.”

“Did you ever have any auguries?” Celadon asked her.

“No.” Lithe’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disappointment. “I tried twice last night, and again this morning. All I can see is danger from the Fell, nothing certain. It’s blotting out everything else like a huge thundercloud.”

That wasn’t encouraging.

“Just watch the tiller, and make certain nothing jars it, and all should be well,” Delin told Chime. Delin had chosen him to be in charge of the boat while he was gone, and Moon had chosen Floret to make certain Ivory’s warriors listened to Chime and to enforce any commands he gave.

Two warriors carried the lines over to the balcony to secure the boat and keep it from drifting away, then Moon took Delin and flew across with Celadon and her warriors.

Ennia nodded gravely to them and led them through an arched doorway into a large room. It didn’t look like it was meant for meetings or even for sitting in comfort. The walls and floor were all polished stone, and there were no rugs or furniture. It was lit by one of the arrays of small glowing balls that hung from the ceiling, and two more open doorways led to a hall, which drew the air in off the open balcony and through the room. The cool draft couldn’t be very comfortable for the Aventerans.

Ennia seemed to feel all the awkwardness of the situation. “Celadon, after our last… I did not think you would come again. And in such a strange craft.” She looked almost warily at Delin.

Celadon kept her expression and her voice even and neutral. “It belongs to our friend, Delin-Evran-lindel, a scholar of the Golden Isles. He wishes to speak to you.”

Ennia nodded politely to Delin, but her expression was doubtful. “You are not…”

“A shapeshifter?” he said. “No, merely a friend to the Raksura.”

One of the other Aventerans said, “Being a friend to the Raksura seems to attract danger from other creatures, like the Fell.” Moon recognized him as Livan, the Aventerans’ shaman, or archimaster as Havram had called him. And Livan was being free with his opinions, considering until a few days ago he hadn’t heard of the Fell at all.

Delin eyed him thoughtfully, like Livan was a student who might possibly be worth the effort to instruct. He said, “Why do you say that? From what I understand, you are no friend to the Raksura, having ordered them out of your city after they rescued a child from a Fell ruler.”

Celadon flicked a spine, startled. Possibly because this was what she had wanted to say, and was surprised Delin had said it for her.

Ennia frowned at Livan, but Livan said, stiffly, “If they had never come to our city, the ruler would never have tried to injure the child.”

“No,” Delin admitted. “It would have hid among you until it was time to call down the others, attack your city, destroy it, and eat all your children, followed by all yourselves.”

There was an uneasy stir in the room, as if a wind colder than the draft from the balcony had blown through. Livan started to answer, but swallowed the words. No one argued. Something happened, Moon thought. After we left, something else happened. Maybe they would be willing to listen after all.

Delin must have expected a rebuttal, but didn’t let himself be thrown off course when it didn’t come. He continued, “I am from the Golden Isles, a small nation to the east, in what is often called the Yellow Sea. The court of Indigo Cloud once drove off an attempt by the Fell to assault our city, so we owe the Raksura our safety and continued existence.”

Celadon looked startled, as well she might, and was probably wondering why Moon hadn’t mentioned this to her before. Moon managed to keep his expression serious, though it was an effort. And people think I’m a liar. Delin wasn’t exactly lying, but exaggerating massively. He had made the incident sound like a Fell flight had descended on the Golden Isles with the intent to feed on the city, and had been driven off by a Raksuran court. Instead, one Fell ruler on an enslaved cloud-walker had followed Moon, Jade, and the warriors there, and had attacked the harbor when they arrived. The attack had ceased when Jade had killed the ruler.

But Ennia didn’t seem reassured by Delin’s version of the incident. Her expression tightened, as if she was suppressing some strong emotion. She said, in a low voice, “I see. You must have been very grateful.”

“Yes. One is, in such circumstances.” Delin seemed as puzzled by her reaction as Moon was. Persisting, he said, “The Fell are insidious creatures. In the lands to the east and the Abascene Peninsula, they are like the powerful storms that come in from the oceans, unpredictable, deadly, and inevitable. It is their nature to be predators, and parasites. You must understand that everything they do and say, everything they are, is bent toward that end. It is all they know.”

Ennia’s mouth set in a thin line, and there was despair in her expression. “I am beginning to realize that is true.”

Celadon’s eyes narrowed. She demanded, “What is it? What happened after we left?”

Ennia stepped back, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Moon heard a yell from somewhere outside and swung around in time to see an object like a dark cloud shoot through the air and strike the flying boat. The boat swayed over from the weight, but didn’t capsize. As it righted, Moon realized the object was a giant net. He hissed, to a chorus of shocked and angry growls from the warriors. Then a howl that sent a chill right through him shattered the air.

It was a major kethel.

Chapter Sixteen

Celadon rounded on Ennia with a snarl. “You’ll regret this.”

“I regret it now, but they took hostages,” Ennia said, still backing away. The other Aventerans scattered, some ran out of the room. “We had no choice.”

Celadon showed her fangs. “They’ll kill you all.”

“Fools!” Delin shouted, furious. “You could have spoken to us, warned us, we could have helped you—”

It’ll be dakti first, not rulers, Moon thought, looking frantically around. The rulers would know a queen was here and wouldn’t want to fight her until she had been worn down by the dakti. And they couldn’t count on Ivory and the others escaping the net that held the flying boat in time to help. He couldn’t scent anything, but then the room had been chosen for the draft of air blowing into the city, preventing them from detecting the Fell taint. Livan was the only Aventeran who hadn’t fled; he remained near Ennia, and he had lifted his hands and spoke in a soft voice.

Moon realized abruptly what that meant and flung himself forward. He rammed into Livan before the shaman could finish whatever magic he was making. Livan fell backward and struck the floor, and his head banged into the hard paving. Moon bounced to his feet as Celadon said, “This way!”

One of the warriors grabbed Delin and they bounded out into the hall. It was wide, with a few Aventerans huddled against the curving walls. One end was open to a stairwell, the other blocked by a set of closed doors.

Moon still couldn’t scent anything amid the confusing drafts, but he heard distinctive movement in the stairwell, the rush of leathery wings, the clack of claws. That would be the dakti swarm heading toward them. “They’re above us,” he said to Celadon.

She sprang to the doors. “We’ll try to go down and out. Remember the cargo shafts have openings to the outside.” She looked at the warriors. “Whoever makes it out, fly to the island to warn Malachite. Rime, hold onto the groundling.”

The warriors growled in grim assent. Delin wrapped his hands firmly around Rime’s collar flanges. “Don’t worry about me. Just go.”

Celadon jerked at the door handle, found it locked, and ripped the door off the wall.

She plunged out into the hall beyond, Moon and the warriors following. They slammed through a dozen Aventeran guards who must have been placed there to block their escape, then dove down a short stairway.

They bounded through a confusing maze of corridors, mostly unoccupied. They passed several startled groundlings, who were insane to be out in the halls instead of hiding inside locked rooms. But there had been activity out on the bladder-boat dock, on the balconies, and other bladder-boats in the air. I wonder how much of the city knows about the Fell trap, Moon thought, bouncing off a wall as he and Celadon careened around a corner. If Ennia and Havram and the other leaders hadn’t warned anyone, if the inhabitants of the city were unprepared… The Aventerans were going to pay for this, but it wouldn’t be the Raksura who exacted the price.

The Fell stench was in the air now, too much of it to tell a direction. Ahead the corridor opened into a large chamber, a market or gathering area like the one they had seen on their last visit here. Past Celadon, Moon glimpsed daylight coming through a line of pillars. But an instant later a dark shape blocked it and he saw scaled wings rise up. We’re dead, it’s a kethel, he thought, just as Celadon halted and snapped her wings out to stop the warriors, snarling, “Back the other way!”

Moon turned and found himself temporarily in the lead as the warriors followed him back down the corridor. He took the other turn, a hall that ran parallel to the cliff face. It was narrow enough that the kethel couldn’t follow them without shifting to groundling, but it wasn’t likely to take them to an opening to the outside. Celadon leapt over the heads of the warriors and landed next to him to take the lead again. She glanced at him, but didn’t speak. There wasn’t anything to say.

The hall turned again, toward the cliff face, but it ended in what at first looked like an empty room. Then Moon saw the heavy chains hanging down the walls and his heart leapt. “Cargo lift!”

He looked up to see a square of daylight a few hundred paces up the shaft. Celadon said, “Hurry, climb!”

They started up the chains, Moon, Celadon, and a warrior on one side, the other three warriors and Delin on the other. Delin held on to Rime unsupported, so Rime could use both hands to climb. Delin’s face was set in a grimace of determination, and Moon was terrified he would fall. Even if it was a quick end compared to what the Fell would do to him.

Celadon whispered, “The dakti haven’t found us yet. They should be right behind us. They were trying to drive us into that kethel and they would have, if it hadn’t shifted too soon.”

She was right. “Maybe they got turned around in a corridor,” Moon said, but he knew it was unlikely. “Or they’re waiting for something, another kethel to trap us—”

The wall chains shook and something heavy groaned ominously. Above them the blocky shape of a cargo platform jolted into motion, blotting out the square of daylight as it creaked down the shaft. Celadon looked down and hissed. “That’s what they were waiting for!”

Moon looked and saw a black cloud of leathery wings, tails, claws, and teeth; the dakti swarmed up the shaft toward them like a dark wave.

There was no time to discuss it, no time to plan. Celadon swung over to one of the shaking wall chains that helped balance the moving platform. She ripped it out of the ring that held it to the wall and flung herself backward across the shaft. As the startled warrior flattened himself to the wall, Moon swung around and ripped out another supporting ring. The platform above jerked and flipped sideways amid a chorus of metallic snaps and ringing as the chains on the other wall took the full weight and broke.

Moon caught a passing slap from a chain that slammed him face-first into the wall. Dazed, he felt his claws lose their grip, but the warrior grabbed his arm and pulled him in as the wooden platform plunged past them.

The square window was right above them now, and the warrior dragged Moon up onto the sill. Moon crouched, blinked hard to clear his bleary vision, and looked down the shaft in time to see several dakti scrambling up the wall toward them. He slashed the first one across the face and throat; it tumbled backward but more followed. The warrior shouted at him to jump. Moon turned, and he and the warrior leapt out the window into a strong gust of wind.

Moon caught a glimpse of the flying boat, but for a few heartbeats he was too occupied with fighting to stay aloft to realize what he was looking at. Then details came into focus and he went cold with horror.

A major kethel clung to the carved cliff face above the flying boat’s anchorage, its claws hooked into the balconies and around the elegant pillars of the city’s façade. The giant creature’s form was similar to the dakti, armored-plated in the same way, but it had an array of horns crowning its huge head. It couldn’t be the one they had glimpsed inside the city; it was the biggest kethel Moon had ever had the misfortune to see, more than three times Stone’s size. It loomed over the flying boat, which was still wrapped in the folds of netting. He couldn’t see any movement on the deck.

“The others didn’t follow us!” the warrior called out above him. “Consort, you go on, I’ll wait—” The words dissolved in a sharp cry and the warrior folded and dropped like a rock. Something had struck him; the scent of blood came to Moon as he twisted sideways and grabbed the falling man’s outstretched arm.

The warrior’s dead weight jerked Moon down and he flapped hard to stay aloft, but the wind tossed him toward the cliff. He looked down, saw the warrior had shifted to groundling from shock and pain; blood stained his shirt on the right side of his chest. Projectile weapon, Moon thought with a snarl. He looked around and spotted a bladder-boat suspended in the air some distance away and headed rapidly toward them.

Moon pulled the warrior up into his arms, let the wind shove him sideways, and angled for a steep dive away from the city.

He heard the faint pop from the direction of the bladder-boat, twisted, and dropped to avoid another projectile. But a soft weight struck him and knocked him toward the cliff face.

Moon slammed into the rock, stunned, and felt his wings twist with the weight of whatever had hit him. Keeping hold of the warrior with one arm, he grabbed for purchase on the rock with the other. He caught a hold in the stone with his foot-claws and realized the thing that had hit them was a net made of heavy cord, a smaller version of the one that had trapped the flying boat. He ripped at it with his free hand but his claws slid off the metallic strands, and the entangling folds dragged painfully at his wings. He wrapped his free arm around an ornamental post projecting from a ledge and shifted to groundling just as he felt the bones in his wings bend.

He gasped as the pressure on his wings disappeared and his groundling body formed. He waited for the rush of pain from broken bones but it didn’t come. The net’s weight, his heavier body, and the warrior combined to strain his arm and shoulder, until it felt as if the joint was about to rip apart. But that was all. Just in time, he thought in relief. Broken wing bones would have translated to broken bones in his back, and the terror of that ran through his veins like icy water.

The bladder-boat had been too far away for a groundling to throw the net, so it must have somehow shot it at them like a projectile. That explains where the net that hit the boat came from, he thought.

The warrior regained consciousness enough to wrap his good arm around Moon’s neck. The scent of his blood was thick in Moon’s throat. He whispered, “Consort, what…”

“Just hold on.” Moon twisted as far as he could, ignoring the grinding pain in his shoulder. Ropes stretched up from the net towards the bladder-boat, still above them and coming down at an angle, now no more than a hundred paces away. They needed to get untangled from this net so Moon could shift and get them out of here. “What’s your name?”

“Dare,” the warrior gasped.

“Dare, can you kick the net away from—” Groundlings appeared at the bladder-boat’s railing and one lifted a bulky weapon with a long tube. And we need to get away now, Moon thought. He told Dare, “Don’t let go.”

The warrior tightened his grip. Moon lifted his legs despite the tangling net, braced his feet on the wall, and shoved off.

They fell until the ropes attached to the net caught and jerked them to a halt. Moon tore and dragged at the clinging folds and Dare kicked out. Moon felt the net loosen as it started to untangle, about to spill them out.

Then something dark closed around them.

Moon saw the huge claws arching over him and realized the major kethel had snatched them up in its hand. Dare strangled back a scream but in the next instant the creature dropped them.

They slammed into a wooden surface. Dare landed hard on Moon’s chest and knocked the air out of him. Moon got a breath into his aching lungs and quelled the panicked impulse to shift. The net was wrapped around his arm and neck, half-strangling him; it would be worse tangled on his spines and folded wings.

Dare gasped and choked. Moon managed to roll half over, easing the warrior to the side and taking some of the weight of the net off him. He was young, with light bronze skin and red-brown hair; he trembled violently from blood loss, his skin cold. Blood soaked his light-colored shirt, and Moon could feel it, slick and warm on his arms and chest.

Moon snarled and looked up. The kethel had dropped them on one of the open decks of the bladder-boat. The huge air bladder hung overhead and the rounded wall of a cabin was to one side. Two Aventeran groundlings stared down at them. Both were male, bundled up in knits and leather coats against the wind streaming over the deck, and both were armed with smaller projectile weapons. The stink of Fell clung to the wood. Moon bared his teeth.

One of the groundlings flinched and lifted his weapon. The other grabbed the barrel and pushed it away. “No, they’re wounded,” he said in Kedaic. It wasn’t until that moment that Moon realized it was Havram.

Dare curled up against Moon’s chest and Moon pulled him closer. He was dying; Moon could smell it. He grated out, “Why did you do this? We were trying to help you.”

The other groundling stared, as if he hadn’t expected Moon to be able to talk. Havram said, “We had no choice.”

Moon felt a footstep vibrate through the wooden boards, just before he sensed a Fell ruler. Dare whimpered and curled tighter into Moon’s chest.

A Fell ruler in groundling form stepped into view, looking down at them. He resembled Ivades in that he was tall and slim, his skin white as the palest marble, and the long hair tossed by the wind was dark and fine. But the gravity of his presence stopped Moon’s breath. This ruler was as old and powerful as Ivades had been young and foolish. Moon had never seen him before; it was a small relief, at least, that this ruler was not one of those he had seen with Ranea’s flight.

In Raksuran, because Fell always spoke the language of their prey, the ruler said, “Are you hurt?”

Moon hissed. “What does it look like?”

The ruler tilted his head at the groundlings and said in Kedaic, “You injured them.”

The other groundling said, “They were about to escape. I had to fire on them.”

Havram added, “This is what you wanted. Now take them and go.”

The ruler shifted, the effect different from a Raksuran, as if its body became liquid and flowed into the new shape. Its shifted form was larger than Ivades’ had been, its armored crest more prominent. It said, “So we shall go.”

It snapped out a clawed hand and slashed Havram’s head off, slapped the weapon out of the second man’s hand, caught him by the front of his jacket and slung him over the rail of the deck. Screaming erupted from the cabin behind Moon, then just as abruptly ceased. The ruler flicked the blood off its claws and said to Moon, “These creatures taste like carrion. They’re no use at all.”

The kethel’s hand swooped down again and snatched Moon and Dare off the deck. Moon would have screamed if he had time to gasp a breath; a heartbeat later he realized the kethel hadn’t crushed them. It was carrying them somewhere. The vibration of its powerful wingbeats traveled through the muscles of its arm.

The hand enclosing them shut out all but a little light shining through narrow gaps between the kethel’s claws. A little cool air leaked in, just enough to keep them from smothering in the sickening heat and stench of the creature’s skin. The net ground into Moon’s back and shoulders, and had to be exerting painful pressure on Dare’s wounds. Moon whispered, “It’s all right, try to hold on,” then felt Dare’s death rattle as the last breath left his lungs.

The kethel flew for some endless time. Moon fought down fear that threatened to choke him, forced himself not to struggle against the cooling weight of Dare’s body. If these Fell had the same plans as the ones who had stalked Indigo Cloud…

Finally the kethel landed, and Moon heard wind moving over rock, and less identifiable sounds. Then the slivers of light dimmed and altered, and he felt the kethel lean forward.

Its claws opened and Moon and Dare’s body spilled out and landed on a hard surface.

Dazed, bruised, and sticky with Dare’s blood, Moon tried to push himself up. He had been dropped on the deck of Delin’s flying boat; he recognized the color and texture of the wood. But the air was stale and thick, as if it had already been breathed once, and so heavy with the scent of Fell stench it was like trying to inhale dirt. He blinked hard to clear his vision, but there was nothing wrong with his eyes. The light was tinted a murky gray-red, as if it was falling through a piece of gut. Moon managed to roll half over and get a look at what was above the flying boat.

At first he thought it was a fog, or a heavily clouded sky. It was oddly mottled, thick, reddish-gray. Realizing what it was, he hissed in despair.

It was the inside of a sac, one of the containers made from the secretions of the kethel. From the fact that it was more than large enough to contain the flying boat, it must be the giant sac that Stone had seen. His eyes caught movement in the dimness and he saw dakti swarmed over the inside of it, working on a tear in the surface. The kethel must have had to open a slit to deposit Moon on the boat.

Moon pushed away from Dare’s body and tore at the net. Figures leaned over him, pulling at the cords; he flinched and snarled before he realized it was Floret and Chime and Saffron. They untangled the net, and Moon shook their hands off and shoved to his feet. Before Moon could speak, Chime shifted to groundling and flung himself into Moon’s arms. Moon stumbled, but stayed upright. Chime clutched him like a lifeline and sobbed once into his shoulder. Saffron crouched down to touch Dare’s face, then hissed in dismay as she realized he was dead.

They stood on the deck near the steering cabin. The interior of the sac was vast and murky, the air too warm and humid, laced with drifting mist. Supports like leafless branches crossed the vast space, made of more of the hardened secretion. The whole space was moving, the boat swaying a little with the force of the sac’s motion, nudged along with it by bumping against the supports. Moon’s sense of direction told him they were heading northwest, away from Aventera and the plateau, away from the Reaches.

Other shapes hung in the dimness; Moon caught a glimpse of something huge, like a flying island, but it was wrapped in some web-like secretion. Whatever it was, it looked horrible. Patting Chime’s back, Moon asked Floret and Saffron, “Who’s dead?”

“Horn is dead.” Saffron named one of the Opal Night warriors, her gaze still on Dare. Both she and Floret were wounded, with scratches and tears in their scales. “Ivory is hurt, badly.”

Moon growled a curse. “Who else is hurt?”

“Gallant, Tribute, and Fleet. And the younger ones, from Indigo Cloud—”

“Root and Song,” Floret supplied. “The Fell could have killed us all, but they stopped when Ivory went down.”

Saffron faced Moon, her spines flicking with anxiety. “Celadon and the others?”

“I don’t know. If they got away, I didn’t see them.” Moon took Chime by the shoulders and moved him away. Chime had bruises on his face, his neck, dark stains on his bronze skin. “Let’s get below.”

Saffron gathered up Dare’s body and started toward the stairs. In the doorway, Moon stopped Chime and let Floret and Saffron get ahead of them. He whispered, “What did Shade and Lithe do in the fight?”

Chime answered hurriedly, “I didn’t see. They were on the other end of the ship with Ivory and Saffron and the other Opal Night warriors. But they both had blood on their hands and teeth afterward, so they must have shifted to fight.”

Good. Moon started down the steps.

All the lamps belowdecks had burned out, but bits of cloth that had been spelled to make light were stuffed into the sconces. In a cabin on the other side of the passage, Saffron placed Dare carefully down next to the crumpled body of another young warrior.

The air was heavy with blood and sickness, detectable even over the stench of Fell. As Moon stepped into the main cabin, he found the wounded laid out on blankets on the floor at the far end of the room. He moved toward them, looking for Root and Song, sick at the thought of what he might see.

The warriors were all in their groundling forms, all deeply unconscious, their clothes bloody from the cuts that had rent their scales and transferred to their skin when they shifted. Root had a bad slash stretching from his collarbone down his left side. His eyes were deeply sunken in their sockets, his features sharpened as if the flesh had thinned and tightened. Except for the slow, almost imperceptible movement of his chest, he looked dead. Song was worse, slashed across the neck. Blood matted her curling hair, trickled down from the corner of her mouth.

Ivory was still awake, Shade supporting her head, Lithe kneeling next to her. Moon took one look at Shade’s face and gave up his last suspicion. Shade’s expression was set with shock, his eyes all pupil, his light skin so pale it was almost translucent. He looked like Flower had before she died.

Lithe’s eyes were wide, frightened, as if the effort of holding back panic was almost too much. She said, “Moon.” Her voice was thick with relief. “We thought—We were afraid—Is Celadon—?”

“We don’t know about the others yet,” Floret told her.

Moon knelt next to Ivory. “They’re all in a healing sleep?”

“Yes.” Lithe touched Ivory’s forehead. Moon could see the effort it cost her to pretend to be calm. “I need to send her into one, but she won’t let me.”

Ivory’s scent was bitter and coppery with blood, and her collarbone was broken. She was in her Arbora form, so there was no telling what damage had been done to her wings. Her scales were scratched and torn, the fingers of her right hand smashed, her claws broken.

She opened her eyes and focused on Moon. Her voice grating with pain, she said, “Where’s Celadon?”

As she spoke, he saw she still had blood on her fangs. “Either dead or free, flying to Malachite and the others.”

With her good hand she reached over and squeezed his wrist, hard enough for his bones to grind together. “I hope everything they said about you was true.”

Me, too, Moon thought. What he wanted to do was huddle in a corner and quietly panic, or loudly panic, but he couldn’t afford to.

She raised her voice enough to say, “Saffron. Until I wake, obey this consort as if his words are mine.”

Saffron gave Moon a wary glance, but said, “I will, Ivory.”

Ivory sank back against Shade and closed her eyes. Shade made a frightened sound, like a fledgling.

Biting her lip in concentration, Lithe put a hand on Ivory’s brow. Ivory’s body gradually relaxed, her breathing grew even and slow, the lines of pain on her face smoothed away. Lithe sighed at the effort and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know if she’ll live. She has a chance, if—” She cut the words off.

If the Fell leave her alone, Moon thought. They might all be dead in the next few moments.

As Lithe and Shade laid Ivory down on the blanket, Moon got to his feet. He looked around and realized the others were staring at him. Right, he was in charge. To get his thoughts in order more than anything else, he said, “The Fell knew we were coming here, knew about the trap.”

Lithe sat back and pushed the sweaty hair off her face. “But how? The crossbreeds, I know what you think, but we didn’t—”

“That’s not what I think,” Moon interrupted.

Chime said, “You think this is the same thing that happened at Indigo Cloud.” He folded his arms tightly and his voice trembled a little, but he didn’t look as bad as Shade. “That these Fell have crossbreeds of their own, a mentor-dakti who guided them here.”

“It would explain a lot.” Experimentally, Moon shifted to his winged form, then back to groundling. “But we can still shift.”

“Or maybe they just haven’t bothered with us yet,” Chime said, and glanced nervously up at the deck.

Saffron, Lithe, and Shade all followed his gaze.

Floret paced to the doorway and stood so she could watch the stairs. “It is like what happened to us. The way they knew we were going to the groundling city, what we were going to do. But why attack Opal Night, one of the strongest courts in the Reaches?”

“Maybe revenge against Malachite, for destroying a Fell flight,” Chime told her. “Like they wanted revenge against Moon, for killing a ruler.”

Saffron turned her head to stare at Moon, incredulous. Moon guessed Ivory hadn’t repeated anything he had said to her in the bow yesterday. That made him feel even worse about what had happened to her.

“It also doesn’t explain why we’re going northwest,” Shade said tentatively. He still looked shaky, but maybe trying to solve the puzzle of what had happened and why was helping him stay calm. “If they want to attack Opal Night, why are they heading away from it?”

“That’s a good question.” Moon wished they had an answer to it. “Are there any courts in this direction? Or another groundling city?”

“No courts that we know of.” Saffron frowned in thought. “I never heard of any groundling cities, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

“They’ve just had a groundling city, though,” Chime said. “Why didn’t they stay longer at Aventera?”

“They didn’t seem interested in it,” Moon admitted reluctantly. “It was like they came for us, caught us, and forgot about the groundlings.”

They all digested that unpleasant thought for a moment. Lithe said slowly, “I think… This doesn’t change anything. I think we were right, all along, that the Fell came here for crossbreeds. But they just needed one or two of us. Now that they have Shade and me, they don’t need to attack Opal Night anymore.”

Chime hunched his shoulders uneasily. “She may be right.”

Shade looked even more sick. “But why do they want us?”

Moon didn’t think they were going to like the answer to that question, whatever it was. It might mean these Fell wanted more Raksura for breeding, but in that case it seemed strange that they had settled for only two crossbreeds and one full Raksuran consort. He didn’t want to think about it, and he didn’t want the others to think about it. They had to focus on getting out of here. “Chime, do you know if Delin has anything on this boat we can use? Like weapons?”

Before Chime could answer, Saffron snorted. “We have weapons. Our claws.”

Moon wasn’t in the mood for any backtalk from warriors, but before he could explain that and include a demonstration, Lithe said sharply, “Saffron, don’t be stupid. He means groundling weapons. Like something that shoots projectiles, or makes things catch on fire.”

From the doorway, Floret gave Saffron’s back a withering look.

Shade stood up straight, enthusiasm making his voice stronger. “If we could set the sac on fire and get the boat out…” He saw the flaw in the plan. “But the boat is too slow. The kethel would just catch us again and kill us.”

Lithe hesitated, as if reluctant to voice her thought, but she said, “It might be better if we forced them to kill us. Before they have a chance to do whatever it is that they captured us to do.”

Moon couldn’t argue with that. Floret nodded grimly, Chime looked sick, and Saffron frustrated. Moon thought Saffron wanted to argue, or hated the idea of using groundling weapons, but she knew that Lithe was right.

Shade huddled in on himself again, but said, “Setting the sac on fire is a good idea. We have to stop them, or they’ll just attack Opal Night for more crossbreeds.”

Chime cleared his throat. “I don’t know if Delin has any weapons onboard. But we can look.”

* * *

Moon had Lithe, Shade, and Chime go through the other cabins, while the two warriors kept watch. He searched the main cabin and the hold himself, but all he found that might be useful were some knives and other sharp implements, for cooking or for working on the boat. The food and water stores were still good, so at least they would be able to eat and care for the wounded right up until the Fell killed them.

He had finished and was in the main cabin when Chime returned with something he and Lithe had found.

It was a metal projectile weapon, with a long tube attached to a handle, and a lever. Chime pointed to various bits of it. “I think you use the lever to pump air into this part of it, and then when you pull this, that makes the air release and that shoots out the projectile. I found some of these—” He set a box down on the table. It was filled with round little packages wrapped in paper. “I think they’re the projectiles. But I’ve been thinking, Delin never mentioned he had a weapon that would be useful against the Fell. And this was packed up in a cabinet in his sleeping room, and not up in the steering cabin where he could get to it quickly. So maybe it’s not a weapon, it just looks like one?”

Moon picked up one of the projectiles, handling it carefully. It felt soft, like sand wrapped in heavy paper, and it had a wick like a candle. He tried it against the opening in the weapon, and it slid right inside. He took it out again, and sniffed it cautiously. The scent was bitter and acrid, like sulfur. Like something that would be flammable, and it was clearly meant to be lit. “I don’t think it is a weapon. I think you light this on fire, and shoot it into the air with this thing, and it makes a burst of light.” On the Crescent Coast archipelagos, he had seen ships signal each other with various contraptions that made light high in the air.

Chime took the device back, turned it over and examined it again. “It could still be a weapon. If you shot it into a kethel’s chest… It would still hurt.”

“Hurt it, but maybe not kill it. I wonder if it would set something on fire.”

“The sac, like Shade suggested?” Chime’s expression was doubtful. “Some things don’t catch on fire easily. It might need to be covered in oil. But there is oil in the hold. It’s made from some kind of sea plant that the Islanders grow. Delin has it for the ship’s lamps and the metal cooking thing.” He added nervously, “And then there’s the part where the sac collapses on the boat and we burn to death.”

“I’m trying to think of a way to avoid that part,” Moon admitted. It would be better to use this as a means of escape, not a way to die spectacularly and take as many Fell with them as possible. But that depended on what the Fell wanted with them.

A thump on the deck above made them both flinch. The wood creaked with the movement of something heavy. Moon shifted, Chime a beat behind him. Moon started for the door, then turned back to shove the weapon at Chime and motion frantically for him to hide it. Moon might regret that, but he thought if the Fell meant to just come in here and eat them all, they would have done it before now.

Chime scooped up the box of projectiles and turned to the cabinets on the far side of the cabin. Moon stepped out into the passage as Lithe and Shade hurried back from the hold area. Floret and Saffron stood at the bottom of the stairs, their spines flared. Floret whispered, “I think it’s a kethel.”

The creaking above ceased abruptly, and Moon felt rather than heard the change in the air as the creature shifted. Heavy footsteps crossed the deck toward the stairs.

“Get back,” Moon told them. He was thinking that two female warriors more or less wouldn’t matter to the Fell and the kethel might just kill both of them if they were within reach. Both hesitated, and he snarled, “Now.”

They moved away, reluctantly, as a kethel in groundling form stamped down the stairs.

Its body was big and muscular, more than a head taller than Moon and twice as wide. It wore no clothing except for a silver chain around its neck. Its skin was pale like the rulers, but there the resemblance ended. Its face was bony and the dark eyes were deep-set under a heavy brow. It had long yellow fangs, distended enough to make sores in its lower lip. Its gaze went to Moon and its expression went blank. Its mouth fell open, its throat worked, and a deep voice like gravel and broken glass said, “The crossbreed consort will come with me.”

Saffron hissed and Floret twitched. Moon bared his fangs. That was a ruler speaking through the kethel, and probably seeing through its eyes as well. Moon said, “No, he won’t.”

Moon didn’t expect the creature to accept that as an answer. The kethel surged forward, swinging an arm to fling him out of the way. Even in groundling form it was still a kethel, and Moon knew it could crush him if he closed with it. He ducked under its arm and lunged at its throat. Moving faster than he had thought possible, it jerked back and caught him by the shoulder. Moon sunk his claws into its arm and hand, but he could barely penetrate its tough skin.

Then the air changed as Shade shifted behind him. Shade reached over Moon’s shoulder, dug claws into the kethel’s wrist and twisted. The kethel snarled in pain and released Moon, jerked its hand free and fell back a step.

Moon glanced at Shade to make certain he was ready if the creature charged them. Then he did a double-take.

This was the first time he had seen Shade’s shifted form. The shock of it was like a punch to the face.

Shade was big, as big as the kethel’s groundling form, and he looked like a Fell ruler. Shade bared his teeth at the kethel, revealing an impressive array of fangs. He said, “Go away.”

The kethel made a half-hearted growl, but it was clear from its expression that the ruler no longer had control over it, and that the kethel had never seen anything like Shade. Baffled, it backed away, then climbed the stairs.

They heard the thumps of its feet on the deck, then the boat jerked as it shifted and leapt away.

Chapter Seventeen

Moon stared at Shade. It took an effort of will not to step back and growl. The others stared too, except for Saffron, whose spines flicked in embarrassment and Lithe, who just looked frightened. Shade didn’t notice at first, his gaze on the ceiling as he tracked the kethel’s movements until it left the boat. He turned to Moon. “Why did it…” His voice trailed off as he realized what the silence in the cabin meant.

He twitched self-consciously and shifted, his dark armored body flowing into his smaller groundling form. He watched Moon warily, like someone who expected the worst.

Moon recognized that expression because he was pretty certain it had been on his face every time he had been forced to shift in front of someone who had thought he was just another groundling. And the worst was always what had happened. He belatedly shifted too, so Shade wouldn’t think he was going to attack him. He said, “That’s…”

“It’s how I’ve always been.” Shade’s shoulders hunched in misery. “Did the kethel leave because it thought I was a ruler?”

Moon hadn’t had much trouble with Shade’s groundling skin color. Maybe because he was used to seeing so many varieties of groundling, and Shade’s whole demeanor was so unlike a Fell’s, that after the first initial surprise the comparison seemed ridiculous. But this… This he had a problem with. And he needed to get past it, now, before the Fell returned. Because if the kethel had been intimidated by Shade, the other Fell might be too, and that could give them far more of an advantage than a weapon that might or might not be able to start a fire at a distance. “Can you shift again? So I can see?”

Shade met his gaze, startled. Then he shifted.

Moon stayed in groundling form, and made himself look, really look. After a moment, it was clear Shade’s form wasn’t as much like a ruler’s as the first shocked glance had suggested.

He might be as big and muscular as a kethel’s groundling body, but his mass was more elegantly proportioned, an Aeriat Raksura’s proportions. He had scales, the correct deep black of a consort, but more reflective and without any color undersheen, or color banding on his claws. The scales seemed to stand out more, giving them a cursory resemblance to a ruler’s armor. He did have a ruler’s armored crest, but it was smaller, less prominent. He also had a substantial mane of spines and frills sprouting from the base of it, though it was hard to tell, since his spines were self-consciously flat at the moment. Moon was starting to realize what groundlings had felt like when they had caught glimpses of his shifted form and mistaken him for a Fell. “You don’t… I don’t know what you look like, but it’s not a ruler.”

That wasn’t the most coherent thing he could have said, but Shade seemed to understand. His large array of spines rippled in relief, and he showed Moon the underside of his forearm. “I have ridges on my scales.”

Moon leaned in to look, then took Shade’s arm and felt his scales. The texture was different, rough rather than smooth. Not unpleasant, just different. Moon stepped back, bumping into Chime who had been edging forward for a closer look. He asked Lithe, “Are you like this?”

She twitched a little nervously, but shifted. Her shape was like an Arbora’s, with no extra crest, spines, fangs, or bulk, but her scales were a consort’s black, and the same texture as Shade’s. She said, “The kethel just wanted Shade, not me. I don’t understand that.”

“You’re a crossbreed mentor,” Chime said. He didn’t seem as disturbed by Shade’s and Lithe’s appearance as he had before, and neither did Floret. Maybe they were taking Moon’s reaction as a guide, or maybe getting it out in the open and talking about it had been the right thing to do. Chime continued, “Maybe they’re afraid of you. They might think you could keep them from shifting, like the mentor-dakti did to us.” Lithe frowned, startled and thoughtful. Chime added hopefully, “Could you?”

That she might have this ability had clearly never occurred to Lithe. “I don’t think so.”

“But you haven’t tried?”

“Try,” Moon told her.

Above them the deck thumped, a much lighter sound than when the kethel had landed. Everyone’s gaze went to the hatch. Moon shifted to his winged form. This will be it. But there were no other thumps, no scratching on the deck as dakti landed. The ruler was approaching alone.

As it came down the steps, Moon recognized it. It was the older ruler who had been on the groundling bladder-boat.

Then the image of Liheas filled Moon’s memory, so vivid that bile rose in his throat. There had been no sign yet that this flight knew anything of the flight that had stalked Indigo Cloud and Sky Copper, but if they knew of that, or had had some connection…

The ruler said, “I am Thedes.” Its gaze went to Shade, a long penetrating study, then to Lithe, then back to Shade. “The progenitor would speak with the crossbreed consort.”

Shade’s spines trembled nervously, and he looked at Moon. The kethel saw Shade shift, and now they know which one of us they want, Moon thought. Shade said, “No.”

“You will not be harmed. Or touched.” There was no emotion in the words. Thedes might not have known what they meant. It didn’t inspire confidence in the truth of the statement.

Moon said, “Did you say that to the groundlings at Aventera?”

Thedes focused on Moon. There was a brief flicker of what might have been indulgent amusement in the dark eyes. Moon didn’t believe it. Thedes was old enough to know how to mimic emotions his prey might find reassuring. Thedes said, “They were groundlings. We don’t pretend they are people.”

“You don’t pretend we’re people, either.”

Thedes’s empty gaze returned to Shade. “We treat you as we treat each other.”

Moon swallowed a frustrated hiss. Trying to argue with that statement would be like fighting your way out of a branch spider’s web, mostly because it was probably true. The Fell didn’t treat each other gently, either.

The ruler waited for Moon to reply, then said to Shade, “We have let you keep your wounded, and the warriors and the mentor.” This was said as if it was a completely meaningless indulgence. “We have been generous and kind. You deserve our kindness.” He inclined his head toward Moon. “The older consort may accompany you.”

Moon didn’t let his spines flatten. He had been expecting a threat, and it wasn’t as if the Fell couldn’t drag them all out of the boat if they wanted. Shade glanced at Moon for help, and Moon flicked a spine in assent.

Shade said to the ruler. “I’ll go.” Then he steeled himself with obvious effort. “Moon doesn’t have to come with me.”

Moon knew he could tell himself he had to stay behind to help defend the wounded since Thedes’s word to spare them was worth less than nothing. But the idea of letting Shade walk out of here alone to face whatever he had to face made a painful knot in his chest. Shade might look like a predator, but he had been gently raised and protected and indulged, and he had little idea of what might happen. And Moon had been abandoned so many times, he just didn’t want Shade to know what that felt like. “I’ll go,” Moon said.

Shade tried not to react but a betraying ripple of relief fluttered through his spines.

Thedes turned away and started up the stairs. Moon stepped close to Floret and Chime and mouthed the words, “If we don’t come back, use the weapon.” Chime looked horrified but Floret nodded a determined assent. Then Moon and Shade followed Thedes.

As they reached the deck, Shade asked Thedes, “How did you know about me and the others? The crossbreeds? How did you know about what happened to Opal Night?”

“Our guide told us. When you see it, you will understand,” Thedes said, then sprang off the deck.

Shade threw a nervous glance at Moon. Moon tried to look reassuring, but thought the most he managed was grim resignation. They followed Thedes.

The ruler headed toward the large mass Moon had seen earlier, making his way over to it by springing to and from the web-like supports that stretched across the dim space. As Moon leapt after him, the sticky texture of the supports reminded him of the parasites’ webs inside the leviathan’s body; it made the skin creep under his scales.

They dropped down onto the top of the structure, and Moon realized it must be a nest. The surface was unpleasantly crunchy underfoot, and made of debris stuck together with the same secretions as the supports. The horrific smell was even worse, Fell stench combined with death and rotting plants. Following Thedes across the uneven surface, Moon saw deadfall wood of various trees, some with withered leaves still attached, hewn planks that might have come from dwellings or ships, bits of carved wood, broken metal fragments, torn cloth. And bones, he realized, as he stepped over something that looked very like a groundling’s ribcage.

There were more remains around the entrance, a round doorway in the top that led down into the structure. The bones weren’t ornamental, Moon decided as he climbed down the half-stair half-ladder of secretion-covered debris. The placement of long bones, skulls and jaw fragments was entirely random. He had seen kethel wear scalps or bones as decorations, but these looked like they were no more prized than the scrap wood.

Light came from various sources, all of which must have been looted from groundlings: a chased metal container with a glowing ball inside, that flickered madly as whatever powered it failed, glowing plant material packed into wicker boxes, some glowing mineral blocks like the ones Moon had seen in the turning city in the eastern mountains. Thedes led them through a maze of small chambers and dim passages, spiraling down through the multiple levels of the nest. The deeper they went, the more Moon sensed movement all around them, hidden in the dark, bodies drawing breath and pumping blood, waiting and watching. But the only clear sound was his own heart pounding and the hitch of fear in Shade’s breath.

Then the passage turned into a steep slope down into a larger chamber. One side was supported with the wooden frame and partial wall of a groundling ship, either a water-going vessel or a flying one, it was hard to tell. The dark wooden planking on the wall still showed signs of faded paint, and had a round window with silver studs. The other half of the room was supported by giant arches of bone, the ribcage of some large creature as big as a… kethel, Moon thought, suddenly realizing what he was looking at. Part of the chamber was made out of the body cavity of a dead kethel.

Thedes led them further in, to where the floor became a series of broad uneven steps, curving down toward the far end. Fell lounged in the shadows everywhere. Moon was braced to see crossbreeds, but the dakti he could spot looked like ordinary Fell. Some were in their groundling forms, naked, their bodies small and thin with light skin, matted dark hair, and rough features. They stared at Moon and Shade with dark eyes and identical expressions of hungry interest.

Then the room curved around and Moon saw the progenitor.

She sat on a pile of rich fabrics and clothing looted from groundling prey. Even curled into a sitting position, he could tell she was much larger than the one other progenitor he had had the misfortune to see. Her scales were black, her leathery wings wrapped around her body, and she looked like a ruler with a smaller head crest and a softer texture to her armored scales. But he thought she would be at least a head taller than Thedes. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if she was older, more powerful.

Several younger rulers gathered in front of her, with more scattered clothing for cushions. Their white skin seemed to shine in the dimness of the room, their dark hair like falls of silk, framing the cold, perfect beauty of their features.

A quiver of movement drew Moon’s gaze to the shapes that lay piled on the floor behind the rulers. As he realized what they were, the sharp shock cleared his thoughts. He made himself focus on the fine clothes the rulers wore, some in tatters, relics from their previous feeding, some new brocades that came from their prey at Aventera. Made himself remember that the beauty was a lie and a trap, a mask to hide blind predatory hunger.

He slid a sideways glance at Shade, wondering if Shade’s blood made him immune or easier prey to the Fell influence. He nudged Shade’s arm, and tilted his head toward the pile.

Shade twitched, stared, and made a choked-off noise of distress.

The shapes tumbled there were slender bodies with pale gray skin: dead male and female Aventerans, some naked and some still partially clothed. The Fell were about to eat.

Thedes melted into his groundling form. He smiled, and it was as if he drew all the light and air toward him. Moving with weightless grace, he moved to a spot near the other rulers and sat down. He gestured. “Sit with us.”

Shade’s spines shivered, and he looked at Moon in mute appeal. Moon gripped his wrist, squeezing briefly to reassure Shade and steady himself. Moon stepped into the empty spot next to Thedes and sat down on the mat of discarded clothing. The fabrics were heavy and rich, the scent rising up held must, dried blood, piss, and old fear sweat. Shade sank down next to him, trembling.

Thedes smiled his approval. Moon felt it pull at some small part of his heart, and hated himself for it. Thedes said, “This is how friends behave.”

Shade hissed in angry disbelief. The rulers all tilted their heads, almost in unison. One said, “Why do we wait? That one was there when Ivades was killed; I see it in him.”

Thedes said, “That was the past. We are friends now.” He waited, as if giving the others the chance to voice any objections. Then he said, “Now we eat. Like friends.”

A few dakti eased forward to the pile of groundling bodies and shifted to their winged forms. The first one leaned in, ripped an arm off an Aventeran woman, and carried it to the progenitor.

The progenitor accepted the offering and bit into it, ripping off a chunk and chewing with delicate precision. The other dakti tore into the corpses, pulled off the arms and legs and carried them to the rulers. Moon was careful not to let his eyes focus on the bodies. He didn’t want to see an Aventeran face he recognized. Or any sign that some of them weren’t quite dead yet. The rulers started to eat, their fangs digging into the gray flesh.

Then a dakti stepped between Thedes and Moon, its leathery wings brushing Moon’s shoulder. It dropped a groundling leg in front of Shade, the bruised gray flesh stained with congealed blood. Shade flinched. Moon ignored it.

Thedes said, “We asked you to eat with us.”

Moon should have seen this coming, should have sensed the sick inevitability of it. He said, “No.”

Thedes fixed his gaze on Shade. “He speaks for you.”

“He does,” Shade said. His voice came out in a growl.

“If he was not here, you would eat?”

Shade showed his fangs, and it caused a moment of stillness among the rulers and dakti. “I won’t eat.”

“You prefer different food,” Thedes said. He inclined his head toward Moon. “We can provide.”

Moon sensed movement behind him and flared his spines just as a weight struck his head. He pitched forward and rolled, realized it was a dakti as it tumbled off him. He shoved upright but more dakti hit him, bounced him off the far wall and slammed him into the floor. Moon clawed, bit and twisted but they piled on top of him and there were too many. He felt claws dig into his scales but not rips or slashes, and knew they were trying to smother him unconscious. The panic of that thought almost made him lose the remaining air in his lungs, then the weight lessened abruptly.

He rolled to a crouch, breathing hard, braced to move. Dakti scattered and Shade stood only a few paces away, spines flared, facing Thedes and the other rulers. Shade snarled, “Leave him alone, and I’ll do it.”

“No, don’t—” Moon said in reflex, but Thedes said, “Quiet. Stay there. Speak again and we will bring the warriors here and eat them.”

Moon knew that wasn’t an idle threat. He subsided unwillingly, his spines flicking in helpless agitation. As if nothing had happened, Thedes said to Shade, “Sit. Eat. We will be friends.”

Shade’s spines flattened in despair and he stepped back to the spot where the torn leg lay. He sat down, and Moon saw his muscles tense as he braced himself. He picked up the leg, tore out a bite, chewed and swallowed it. He dropped the leg as if it had stung his hand, but Thedes seemed satisfied.

The progenitor and the rulers began to eat again. Moon felt every nerve under his scales twitch with the urge to flee, but he stayed where he was. Shade didn’t look at him.

When the progenitor and the rulers were finished, the dakti slunk forward again and dragged the heads, torsos, and other remains to the back of the room, where they tore them apart, stuffing the flesh into their mouths.

Then the progenitor uncoiled, pulled her wings back and drifted to her feet. Shade stood, his spines trembling. Moon’s throat was dry. They were about to find out what the Fell wanted with them. To find out I made a mistake by not setting us all on fire, he thought.

As the progenitor paced towards Shade, something stirred in the nest behind her, then heaved itself into a sitting position. It was about the size of a dakti, but there was something different, unformed, about its leathery wings and its headcrest. As its head lifted up and bright black eyes opened, Moon realized it must be a fledgling progenitor. It crept forward a pace, snagged a groundling arm left beside the nest, and bit into it with relish.

The progenitor stopped a pace away from Shade, then slowly circled him, step by step. She cocked her head, examining him with deliberation. Shade twitched, but managed to keep his spines still through sheer effort of will. She stopped in front of him, and said, “Show me your other self.”

Her voice was deep and grating, with a strange quality to it, as if it came from a much larger body. Shade flicked a sideways look at Moon. “No.”

The progenitor studied Moon, then turned back to Shade. “The Raksura will never let you breed. I would give you anything you wanted.”

Shade bared his fangs and his array of spines rippled and lifted. “I don’t want to breed, ever. And I have everything I want, except to see you dead.”

Something in the progenitor’s body language changed, and Moon realized that she had spoken hoping to provoke this reaction from Shade.

She said, “Thedes told you you would understand the significance of what our guide has revealed to us.”

She heard what Thedes said to us, Moon thought. Maybe she had even seen them and the others on the boat through his eyes.

She didn’t gesture, but one of the dakti slunk forward, holding a flat wooden case. Shade’s tail lashed uneasily. Moon had no idea what this could be, except that it was probably something horrible.

The dakti opened the case and held it out. Moon warily stretched to see. Inside was a flat fragment of crystal, jagged on the edges as if it had been broken off a larger piece. The flicker of light sparked blue and silver reflections inside it. If it was a weapon, it was a strange one.

“Touch it,” the progenitor said.

Moon drew breath to tell Shade not to do it, but Shade snapped, “You touch it.”

The progenitor stared at him, and Moon felt a chill across his scales as the temperature in the room dropped. Then Thedes stepped up beside the dakti and touched a finger to the crystal.

Gray lines formed on it, gradually resolved into a drawing. The image had been etched onto the crystal and Thedes’s light touch had brought it to the surface. Moon didn’t think the Fell could have created something like that, either with magic or without, and he wondered what groundling race they had stolen it from. As the drawing became more defined, he could see it was an Aeriat Raksura, but with something odd about its head and back… It has too many spines and a crest. Like Shade.

Shade hissed in a breath, confused. “Who is that?”

The progenitor said, “A forerunner. Our mutual origin.”

Shade stared at the image. “You’re saying that this is one of the species that the Aeriat Raksura and the Fell descended from.”

“We had a prey make it for us, to our description. Prey are sometimes useful for things other than eating.”

“Is this what you were trying to do?” Shade spoke in a tone of cold realization. “By making crossbreeds?”

Moon stared at him, startled. That couldn’t be right. They want more power, they want Fell queens and mentor-dakti that can stop us from shifting, that can scry to spy on us and augur. He looked at the image again. But the progenitor hadn’t shown any interest in Lithe, and if they wanted power, a half-Fell mentor had to be better than a half-Fell consort, no matter what he looked like. Unless the Fell thought Shade had some special ability.

Shade said, “But why? Why do you want this?”

The progenitor answered, “Because this is the key our guide needs.”

“The key to what?” Shade glared at her in frustration. “And who is your guide?”

“You will see when we arrive.”

Shade snarled. “How did it know I was at Opal Night?”

“It knows. It has watched for a—” The progenitor abruptly went still. Then all the Fell in the room went still. Except for the fledgling progenitor, who looked around curiously. Shade twitched with nerves. Moon’s back teeth itched. It was as if the progenitor held them all in some sort of mutual spell. If it’s the progenitor. Maybe they were listening to something, or someone, else.

Suddenly whatever it was released them. The progenitor’s body became fluid again. A ripple seemed to travel over the rulers, and the dakti stirred, whispering to each other. Even Thedes flexed his claws.

As if nothing had happened, the progenitor said to Shade, “Surely you wish to know more of us. To take your proper place among those who find you beautiful.”

“I was in my proper place before you stole us,” Shade said bitterly.

The progenitor just regarded him in silence. Moon couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or angry or indifferent. Fell only seemed to show emotion under extreme circumstances. But he wondered how long it had been since any living being had told her no.

Then she turned away and paced back toward her nest.

Thedes said, “Return to your flying craft. We have a distance still to travel.”

Shade looked at Moon, startled. Then he turned for the way out. Moon pushed to his feet to follow. His spines twitched involuntarily, but no one tried to stop him.

The interior was confusing without a guide, but they managed to make their way up through the dark maze to the entrance. Dakti clung to the walls and ceilings, watching them with glittering eyes, chittering to each other. A kethel in groundling form stood near the ladder, grinning at them. Shade hissed at it and it backed away enough that they could scramble up and out.

There was movement everywhere as they fled back to the boat, as if all the Fell inside the sac were aware of them. The shadows seemed full of motion, and Moon looked up, trying to see where it came from. The sun had changed angles, and the dark outline of one of the kethel outside was visible through the gelatinous material of the sac, its wings moving rhythmically.

They landed on the deck of the boat, and an instant later Floret and Saffron burst up out of the belowdecks hatch. Moon hissed in relief and made a sharp gesture for them to get below again. At least the Fell hadn’t attacked the others on the boat.

As the warriors retreated, Shade said in a choked voice, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Moon tried to think of a way to say thank you and everything seemed inadequate. He felt like he had failed Shade badly, that he should have prevented it from happening, thought of something to say to stop it. “We got out alive because of you.”

Shade’s spines flattened in distress. “Did they really think… doing that would make me one of them—” Then he started and hissed, “Kethel!”

Moon sensed movement behind him an instant later but he was already diving for the hatch with Shade. They scrambled down the steps, with Floret and Saffron just ahead, as the kethel landed on the deck and the ship rocked and creaked under its weight. At the bottom of the stairs, Moon stopped, braced for an attack.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the kethel moved around and settled on the deck, making the ship list a little to one side. Moon listened, but all he could hear was deep breathing.

“Guarding us?” Floret whispered.

Moon nodded, and eased away from the stairs. Shade reached up and slid the hatch closed. The light wood wouldn’t even slow the kethel down, but Moon didn’t tell him not to bother. That useless barrier between them and the creature was better than nothing.

Floret looked from Moon to Shade and asked, “You’re all right? They didn’t—”

“We’re fine.” Moon cut the question off quickly.

Shade shook his ruffled spines out. “Something happened in there. I mean, something other than—When the progenitor started to say how the guide knew about Opal Night, and they all went still, it was like something else came into the room. But I couldn’t see it. Did you notice that?”

“I saw them all listening to something we couldn’t hear.” If the Fell’s mysterious guide was something that could hide itself from sight, then they were even worse off than they had been before, if that was possible.

Saffron said, “Your warrior is claiming to hear things.”

Floret said in exasperation, “I told you, he used to be a mentor. He’s different.” She explained to Moon, “Chime heard something, like he did in the leviathan city.”

They stepped into the main cabin, and Moon found Lithe and Chime sitting on the floor. She stared into Chime’s eyes, and there was an odd stillness in his body. She must be looking into his mind to check for Fell influence.

Then Lithe leaned back and Chime blinked, a little disoriented as she released him. It was a sensation Moon was familiar with from when Flower had done this to him. She said, “I don’t see anything in there.”

Moon almost snorted with laughter, then realized he was a little hysterical. He sat down on the floor and shifted to groundling so he could bury his face in his hands for a moment.

When he looked up, everyone was staring worriedly at him. Chime sat in front of him, and Shade had shifted to groundling and crouched protectively at his side. Chime leaned in for a close look at Moon’s face. He asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Moon shook his head. “No. Lithe, you need to look into both of us too.”

“But they didn’t—” Shade stopped, frustrated. “If they did, we wouldn’t remember it, would we?”

They both sat while Lithe checked them for Fell influence. Lithe did Shade first, and after a long moment pronounced him free of any interference. Shade sighed in relief, and Moon felt the sick tightness in his chest ease. If the Fell hadn’t done it to Shade, then they hadn’t done it to Moon either. But he still wanted Lithe to check him, to make certain the others knew he wasn’t compromised.

Moon had the same trouble relaxing and letting Lithe in as he had with Flower. Once he managed it, it was over in what felt like an eye blink. Lithe gave him a quick smile, and said, “You’re fine, too.”

“Good.” Moon gave Shade a nudge with his elbow. “Tell them what the progenitor said, and that image they showed us. And about the thing you felt come into the room.”

He hoped he was getting across that Shade should leave out the part about what the Fell had made him do. With a guilty glance at Moon, Shade skipped over the feeding and told the others only about the guide the Fell had spoken of, the image the progenitor had shown them, and what he thought it meant.

When Shade reached the part about the presence he had sensed, Chime nodded grimly. He said, “I heard something while you were gone, a voice. I couldn’t understand what it said. I think it was speaking Raksuran, but I just couldn’t make out the words.” He nodded to Lithe. “That’s why I asked Lithe to look into my mind. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t the Fell, trying to make me do something, somehow.”

“That’s not how it works, is it?” Saffron said. “They can’t take over your mind from a distance.”

“No, I know that.” Chime bared his teeth at her. “But—”

“But you’re different,” Moon supplied.

“Yes.” Chime twitched uneasily. “But she didn’t find anything.”

“I don’t understand how Chime used to be a mentor,” Shade said to Moon.

“Chime was born a mentor, at the old Indigo Cloud colony, but because the court was getting weaker, he changed into a warrior,” Moon told him.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Chime muttered, as Shade stared at him in surprise.

Moon continued, “He couldn’t do magic anymore or scry. But when we were looking for the seed from our mountain-tree, he heard a leviathan, out on the freshwater sea to the west of the Reaches. He could tell things about it that helped us.”

Shade considered that, biting his lower lip. He said to Chime, “So you can only sense things that are big, and very powerful?”

Chime slumped in resignation. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Moon rubbed his temple. His head ached, pain that seemed centered to either side of his nose, probably from the bad air and terrible scents. He still had dried blood on his chest and arms, and the Fell stench clung to his skin. But everyone else was in the same shape, and he didn’t want to waste water cleaning up. He asked Lithe, “Did you try to see if you could keep us from shifting?”

Lithe said, “I tried on Chime, but it didn’t work.” She lifted her hands in frustration. “Even if I could keep Raksura from shifting, I doubt I could do it to Fell. Queens being able to control our shifting is a Raksuran trait, not a Fell one.”

Everyone looked glum and discouraged and not particularly surprised. Moon had to admit that if Lithe had special powers from her crossbreed heritage, she probably would have noticed before now. He asked, “If progenitors can’t keep rulers from shifting, how do they control them?”

“That’s a good question,” Chime said. “I don’t think anyone knows the answer. Except maybe that dead scholar of predators that Delin knew.”

Moon just hoped Delin was still alive. If Celadon and the others had escaped Aventera and reached the flying island where Jade, Stone, and Malachite waited… He pushed the thought away. They couldn’t count on rescue.

Shade sat forward. “I think it’s the connection between them. Like our queens have with the court.” He turned to Moon. “The progenitor knew what Thedes had said to us.”

Moon had noticed that, too. “I’ve always thought the rulers were the ones who control the flight. I knew the crossbreed queen, Ranea, could make the rulers do things, even across long distances, but I thought that was just because she was a crossbreed.”

Chime’s expression suggested this wasn’t a pleasant thought. “Maybe it wasn’t just her ability; maybe it’s something all progenitors can do.”

Saffron had been listening to the conversation with her expression set in an impatient grimace. But she said, “Can the progenitor do it to us? Or try to do it? Maybe it was her voice that Chime heard.”

At least she sounded as if she was actually trying to help them figure things out. Moon asked Chime, “Was it?”

Chime lifted his hands in bafflement. “I don’t know.”

Lithe reached over and squeezed his wrist. “Just try to listen. You never know what might happen. I’m going to scry and see if I can tell where we’re going.”

* * *

Lithe retreated to another cabin for privacy, and Moon helped Chime and Shade check and care for the wounded. He had been in a healing sleep himself, but had never had to take care of someone in one. It was useful knowledge and he was glad to learn it; he just hoped he survived long enough for it to come in handy again.

After that, Moon spent the time making and discarding bad plans. There was just no way they could escape with the wounded, either on the boat or not, especially now that a major kethel seemed settled on the deck to stay. They might be able to set the sac or the progenitor’s nest on fire, but that wasn’t going to stop the kethel outside the sac from attacking them.

It was Shade the Fell really wanted. If they could get out of the sac and Moon could persuade Shade to run with the warriors and Lithe, while he stayed behind to distract the Fell… It wasn’t Moon’s favorite idea, considering what the Fell would do to him and the wounded before killing them. There was also the strong possibility that the warriors might not be able to fly fast enough to evade pursuit.

Moon’s sense of the sun’s passage told him it was setting now, somewhere outside the sac. They were still moving at what felt like the same speed, still toward the north. Moon hated feeling useless, so he went to the foodstores and took out some flatbread, fruit, and strips of dried cooked meat and fish. He divided it up, setting aside a share for Lithe, and made the others eat whether they liked it or not. They didn’t like it, but everyone seemed less edgy afterward.

Shade regarded his portion with a sickly expression. He said, “I don’t know if I can. Ever again.”

Moon took the dried meat and put it back in the basket. “Just the fruit and bread.”

Shade managed to choke it down with difficulty. Watching sympathetically, Chime said, “It’s the Fell stench. It’s making me sick too.”

Moon didn’t comment.

Saffron and Floret and Chime managed to settle who would take turns standing watch in the passage and who would sleep and when. Then Chime told Moon that Moon needed to sleep, that he was starting to say things that didn’t make sense. Rather than have the fight that had just been averted by the food, Moon stomped over to the far end of the cabin, flung himself down on a blanket and pretended to sleep.

After a short time, Shade came over with another blanket and settled down a few paces away, with a studied casualness that didn’t fool Moon for a moment. Moon patted the blanket next to him.

Shade didn’t hesitate, scooting over to curl up next to Moon. Moon put an arm around him and pulled him close. But he didn’t sleep for a long time, listening to Shade weep quietly against his chest.

* * *

Moon woke when he heard Lithe and Chime talking quietly. Shade was still curled up against his chest, breathing deeply. Moon eased away from him. When he stirred, Moon whispered, “Go back to sleep,” and Shade subsided.

He got to his feet and stepped quietly across the cabin. Floret had shifted to groundling, and slept sitting up against the wall near the doorway. Moon stopped to check the passage and saw Saffron perched midway up the steps, her attention on the deck above and the rhythmic breathing of their kethel guard.

Chime and Lithe sat near the wounded, with a piece of Delin’s pounded reed paper and one of his drawing sticks between them. Chime glanced up at Moon and said quietly, “Lithe saw something.”

Moon knew he meant the scrying. He sat down beside them, looking at the paper. Sketched on it was a flower, like a lily or a sea-flower, with a door in the center. Lithe said, “I saw trees clinging to cliffs, smelled saltwater and rock, heard waves crash. It makes sense; we’re still heading north, and there’s a salt sea several hundred ells to the north of the Aventerans’ plateau—or at least that’s what the court’s old histories say. There’s been no reason to go in this direction for turns.”

“What’s an ell?” Moon asked, still too half-asleep to care about exposing his lack of knowledge.

“It’s an Arbora walking measurement,” Chime said. “That would be… What, about fourteen days of warrior’s flight?”

“Something like that,” Lithe said. She rubbed her temple as if trying to coax more information out of it. “It’s been so long since I looked at the court’s maps. I suspect kethel fly much faster.”

“About three or four times as fast as a warrior. And they haven’t stopped to rest,” Moon said. They must be switching out, the shifted kethel carrying kethel in groundling form to take their places.

“So this door is somewhere on the coast.” Chime tugged the paper around so he could study it. “It all must mean something. That image they showed you, crossbreeds, a salt sea…”

Moon stared at the sketch of the flower with the door inside it, feeling his brain shake off the sleep and slowly grind into motion. “They said Shade was the key. Maybe they meant that literally.”

Chime frowned at the paper, and Lithe said slowly, “The key to this door. Only someone who is part Fell and part Raksura can open it?”

“Or someone who looked like the image they showed us.” Moon wished he had had a longer look at it. “A forerunner, one of our ancestors.”

“All right, so say that’s true,” Chime said. “What’s behind the door? If Shade is right, the Fell have been capturing consorts and Arbora and forcing them to breed for the past forty turns. What would they want so badly…” He trailed off.

Lithe hugged herself. “And it wasn’t just the flight that attacked our colony in the east, it was the one that attacked Indigo Cloud, too. They both failed and were destroyed, and this flight took up the task?”

Moon felt cold creep down his spine and settle in his stomach. Malachite had ruined the plan forty turns ago by finding the flight that had attacked Opal Night, killing the progenitor and all the rulers, and taking the crossbreeds. But the flight that had attacked Indigo Cloud must have begun their breeding experiment sometime before that. Destroying some small eastern court, taking the consorts and the Arbora and breeding them until they died, attacking Sky Copper and then Indigo Cloud to capture more Raksura. The Fell queen Ranea had implied that it was all meant to make the Fell more powerful. Maybe she was a mistake. They never wanted a queen, they wanted a consort like Shade. And then Ranea came along, took over the flight and ruined the plan.

But who—or what—had come up with the plan? Who had gotten three—at least three, if there had been more failures in the east—different Fell flights to follow this scheme, and how had it known that the crossbreeds were still alive in Opal Night’s mother colony? That one of them was Shade, the crossbreed consort they had been hoping for, all this time.

Chime grimaced in distress. “I don’t want Shade to be right.”

“I don’t want a lot of things.” Moon picked up the drawing. “If the voice you heard, that thing Shade thought came into the nest, is their guide, why are they listening to it?”

“What did it offer them?” Lithe added quietly.

There was no answer for that, either.

Chapter Eighteen

The night wore on, and nothing changed. The kethel didn’t move from the deck, and the sac didn’t stop its rapid progress north. None of them slept well and the air seemed to get even worse; thick with Fell stench, stale, and damp, it was making everyone ill. Keeping their voices carefully low so the kethel wouldn’t hear, they talked about using the fire weapon and the oil to escape, and made and discarded a number of plans.

It all came down to the simple fact that even if they could get out of the sac, there was no way any of them could outrun the kethel, whether they tried to carry Lithe and the wounded or not. Moon thought the only way it might work was if some of them stayed behind to try to distract the Fell, while one or two tried to escape. And this would mean abandoning the wounded to die terribly.

As they sat on the floor of the cabin wearing their groundlings forms, weary, sick, and filthy, it was Saffron who finally brought up the inevitable. She said, simply, “I won’t leave Ivory.”

“No,” Floret agreed with a sigh. “I won’t leave Song and Root. I’m not keen on leaving anyone.”

Moon looked around. No one seemed hopeful. He said, “Is anyone willing to run, if we can get you out?” To make it sound less like an admission of weakness, he added, “To tell Opal Night what happened.”

They exchanged a few glances, but no one volunteered. Shade drew his fingers across the wooden deck. He had been quiet through the morning, and Moon had been keeping a worried eye on him. Shade said, “I can’t leave Lithe, or Ivory, or the warriors. Or you.” He lifted his head to meet Moon’s gaze. “I can’t.”

Moon rubbed his face. He hadn’t really expected anything else, but they had all just agreed to die here, and it felt wrong. It felt like failure and surrender. But he didn’t see another way. “All right. That’s settled.” He let his breath out in resignation. “We can’t let the Fell get to this place, whatever it is.”

Floret lifted her head. “The fire weapon.”

Miserable, Chime leaned against Moon’s shoulder and said, “I really don’t want to burn or get eaten, so will you promise to kill me before that happens?”

That was just another weight on Moon’s sinking heart, but he put an arm around Chime and hugged. “Yes.”

Lithe huddled in on herself. “Me too, please.”

Moon could tell he was going to end up killing everybody except Saffron, who was the only one he wouldn’t have minded killing. “Let’s figure out what we’re going to do, first.”

Saffron shrugged. “With the kethel guarding the deck, we can’t get out there with the fire weapon.” She added reluctantly, “So… we use it in here?”

No one seemed happy about that idea. Moon didn’t think it would accomplish anything except suicide. He said, “We need to set the sac on fire. If we set the boat on fire, even with the oil, I’m not sure it’ll do that.”

Chime sat up. “The boat will come apart, and the section that’s not attached to the sustainer will fall on the sac. But the Fell could just cut a hole in it and push the boat out.”

Shade set his jaw, grimly determined. “We just have to get the oil and the fire weapon outside the boat. Maybe I could say I wanted to talk to the progenitor, and get out on deck with it.”

“But you wouldn’t have time to do anything,” Floret pointed out. “You’d be carrying casks of oil and a groundling weapon. That kethel would flatten you as soon as it saw you.”

“We don’t have to go out on deck,” Lithe said suddenly. “We can cut a hole in the bottom of the boat.”

Now that was an idea. Moon said, “We could drop the oil onto the bottom of the sac, then shoot the fire weapon into it.”

Forgetting about their impending deaths, Chime looked excited by the prospect. “There are cutting tools onboard.”

Saffron said, “But what if the Fell realize what we’re doing? If the kethel feels the vibrations through the wood—“

Chime shook his head. “This wood doesn’t vibrate much at all. I noticed that when we first came aboard and slept on the floor. Even with all the groundlings walking around.”

Shade added, “None of you felt it up on the deck when I was climbing around under the boat.”

Lithe said, “And I doubt it would ever occur to the Fell to think that we’d do something to kill ourselves. They’re not exactly good at seeing from anyone else’s perspective.”

Floret agreed. “They’d think we were trying to escape. That might work to our advantage.”

She meant the Fell might prepare for Raksura escaping out of the hole in the boat, but not for oil and fire. If they could set a kethel on fire, it would be even better. Moon said, “Let’s get started.”

* * *

The first obstacle they encountered was the hull of the flying boat.

They had found some cutting tools during their first search of the cabins, and Moon thought that the small saw would be all they needed to cut through wood that seemed so light and fragile.

While Floret and Saffron kept watch, and Lithe tended to the wounded, Moon, Chime, and Shade went to the stern hold, where the bottom hull of the ship flattened out. They brought a couple of the lamps to light the area, and the soft glow of the spelled illumination was more than enough in the low-ceilinged space. They moved bales of supplies aside, Chime used ink from Delin’s store to mark out a square large enough to dump an oil cask through, and they got to work.

But the rounded blade of the saw, sharp as it was, could barely be forced through the wood.

After Moon and Shade working together managed to cut only a few fragments out, Moon said in exasperation, “I thought Niran was afraid the Arbora’s anvils would break the hull of the Valendera. This stuff is like iron.”

Chime grimaced. “Blossom was in charge of the repairs to Niran’s boats, and she said it turned out to be a bigger job than she thought at first. Now I know what she meant.” He used his claws to pick apart a chip. “I think an anvil is the only thing that would go through this. It’s not like wood from an ordinary tree. It’s all woven through with some sort of fiber. I wonder if they get it from the sea bottom.”

Moon leaned over to look. Chime was right: the outside appeared to be wood, but the inside was more like a thick leaf, shot through with a fibrous web that must make it extremely strong. Shade picked up another chip to examine it, and Moon said, “It makes sense. These boats travel so far, they’d have to be tough.”

They looked at each other in dismay. Chime admitted, “We can still cut it; it’s just going to take longer than we thought.”

Shade set the chip down. “But we were all worked up to kill ourselves today.”

They stared at him. He winced. “I was trying to make a joke. It didn’t work?”

Chime snorted, half in amusement and half in despair. Moon gave Shade a push on the shoulder. “Help me look for something to sharpen the saw.”

They took turns, working in teams of two, all the rest of the long day. Lithe tried using her magic to heat the section they wanted to cut through. It seemed to help a little, but Moon honestly couldn’t tell whether it was their imagination or not. They had to sharpen the saw frequently, and Moon began to worry that it would break. There were others onboard, but none as well-suited to the task as this one, and if they had to use another it would take even longer.

They weren’t cutting the wood completely through, leaving the outermost membrane intact to keep the cut piece from sagging and revealing their activity to any Fell that might be climbing or flying below them. It would make pushing the piece out a slower process than Moon would like, but this way was safer.

By that night everyone was exhausted and could barely force themselves to eat. Moon’s head was pounding and his stomach revolted even at the idea of bread and water. He would have thought it was a lingering effect of Russet’s poison, except that all the others clearly felt the same way. The only ones who were breathing well were the wounded; the healing sleep seemed to protect them from whatever it was.

“It’s the air,” Lithe said, wearily wiping her face. “It’s turning into a poison. The sac has to let in some fresh air, or we’d all be dead by now. But there must be too many Fell inside it.”

“Will it help if we block off the holes in the boat?” Saffron asked. There were small perforations at points in the sides of the hull, to vent the cabins.

“I think that might just kill us faster,” Lithe admitted.

They kept working through the night.

* * *

Moon woke suddenly, finding himself slumped over on the deck in the main cabin. His head felt clear for the first time in two days, and the pain in his temples had faded to a dull ache. Shade and Lithe sprawled nearby, stirring in their sleep. Saffron, leaning against the wall near the door and technically on guard, sat up blinking as if she had just woken. It felt like late morning.

Moon tasted the air; it was distinctly fresher, even under the Fell taint. “They must have opened the sac,” he said aloud.

Saffron stumbled to her feet. “We’re still moving.”

Maybe enough dakti had died off that the rulers had decided to let in some fresh air. Maybe we’re almost there, and they opened it to send out scouts. There was no salt scent in the air; it was impossible to tell how close or how far away the sea was.

Moon managed to stand, one leg tingling as circulation returned, and limped down the passage to the stern hold. Shade and Lithe trailed after him. The deck creaked overhead as the kethel stirred restlessly.

In the hold, Chime and Floret were just sitting up. They had both shifted to groundling, and were bleary and confused. “We fell asleep.” Chime yawned. “Is the air better?”

“The Fell opened the sac.” Moon crouched beside the cut section and felt it to see how much was left to go. Two sides of the square were finished, and the third had about a pace left. He leaned on it with both hands and applied his full groundling weight; it gave a little, but didn’t seem like it was ready to tear or break. But they wouldn’t need to do the whole section, just enough to push the flap down. They could always pour the oil out if they had to, but he thought knocking holes in the casks and dropping them would spread it faster, and prevent the Fell from stopping the fire before it was too late.

Then Saffron ducked into the hold, her spines flared. “More Fell just landed on the deck. A ruler spoke through the hatch, said they want to see Shade.”

Moon hissed a curse. They had just run out of time. They all stared at Shade. He stared back, startled. Then his spines shivered, and he said, reluctantly, “We can’t take the chance that they’ll come down here and see this. I have to go up on deck.”

“I’ll go with you,” Moon said. Chime stirred as if he might protest, but said nothing.

Shade took a deep breath. “You don’t have to.”

Yes, Moon did. He said, “They’ll expect it, because I did before.”

They left the others waiting anxiously, and started down the passage.

At the base of the steps, Shade stopped, his spines flicking in agitation. He squeezed his eyes shut, steeling himself. “Do you think they’re going to make me… do that again?”

After last time, the Fell knew Shade would do anything to protect the other Raksura, and there was no reason for them not to use that advantage. And there was no point in lying about it. “Probably.”

Shade made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a moan of despair. “At least the groundlings are dead. It doesn’t hurt them.”

Fell liked their prey to be freshly killed. There might have been captive Aventerans alive somewhere in the nest, kept for the next meal. Moon wasn’t going to tell Shade that.

They went up on deck, and Moon pushed the hatch closed behind them. It was hard to tell if there was still an opening in the sac somewhere or not. The light through the membrane was dim and murky, but while the air wasn’t fresh, it wasn’t painful to breathe, either.

As they stepped cautiously out from behind the steering cabin, Moon saw their kethel guard half-curled around the mast. Its legs and arms hung over the rails, and the big ugly horned head rested on the deck. Its eyes were slits, watching them with interest. Thedes stood near it, and dakti perched on the railings like particularly ugly carrion birds.

Thedes smiled at Shade. “We would speak with you again.”

Shade twitched nervously. Maybe he had been hoping, up to this moment, that the ruler wanted something else. “And you’ll kill the others if I don’t come, I know.”

“You make us sound cruel,” Thedes said, with complete conviction.

“Cruel?” Shade hissed. “Why do you have to make it sound like everything you do to us is our fault?”

Thedes didn’t answer that one. He said, “This time, the other consort will stay behind.”

Moon felt a rush of relief, then a rush of guilt for it. The Fell knew he had an influence on Shade, and they didn’t want him present for whatever persuasion they were planning. “Shade…” He couldn’t say “Don’t do what they want,” when refusing to cooperate with the Fell might get one or more of the others killed. What he wanted to say was “Remember you’re a Raksura,” even knowing it was stupid and would probably damage Shade’s resolve more than it would steady it.

“It’s all right.” Shade swallowed back fear. He met Moon’s gaze and said, “I know who I am.” Then he turned, and followed Thedes over the rail.

They sprang to the first web-like support, then the next, disappearing into the dimness in the direction of the nest.

The kethel made a deep noise of amusement. Moon snarled and went back down to the hold, careful to slide the hatch closed behind him.

The others gathered nervously in the passage. He led them further down into the boat, in case the kethel was listening. “Did they say what they wanted?” Lithe whispered.

“No.” Moon reminded himself that this didn’t change their plans. “We need to keep working. When Shade comes back, we’ll use the weapon.”

* * *

But Shade didn’t come back.

They finished cutting the third side of the panel, all but the thin layer that held it in place. The oil casks and the fire weapon stood ready. The day wore on into evening, and they sat in the big cabin, and waited.

Lithe covered her eyes. “What could they be doing to him?”

No one wanted to answer that question. Moon just said, “If we’re right about what they want, they need him alive.” He didn’t think the Fell would kill Shade, not after all these turns of trying to create or find a crossbreed Raksura. But he was desperately afraid of what the Fell’s guide wanted with him, and what the Fell would do to him in the meantime.

Chime twitched uncomfortably. “Maybe they’re trying to… convert him. They think he’s one of them—”

“He’s not one of them,” Saffron snapped.

They all stared at her blankly, and she hissed at them. “We were in the nurseries together with him, and Lithe, and the others. The crossbreeds. We played together, ate together, slept together. There’s nothing different about them, except the way they look.”

Her voice choked with emotion, Lithe said, “It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right.” Saffron hunched her shoulders. “He’s a consort of my court. I should have protected him. Onyx and Malachite—Ivory—What would they say to me?”

Saffron looked so despairing, Moon had to quell an impulse to try to comfort her. He didn’t think she would appreciate it.

Wearily, Floret said, “Moon, what should we do? What if he doesn’t come back? If the Fell show up and kill us all before we can destroy the sac…”

Moon groaned under his breath. He knew it wasn’t the right decision, but he just couldn’t do it. It didn’t make sense; it shouldn’t matter whether they all died together or separately. But it did matter. He had to give Shade more time. “We’ll wait until morning.”

* * *

No one slept much, and the time passed so slowly Moon almost wished for the bad air again, that had made it so easy to slip into unconsciousness. The morning came, and as the sun rose higher in the sky somewhere outside the sac, Moon knew they couldn’t wait any longer. He said, “We have to do this now.”

The others looked bleak, but no one objected. Chime sighed and reached for the saw. “I’ll start—” Then Chime dropped the saw and reeled over, clutching his head.

Moon grabbed for his shoulders, easing him to the floor, his first instinct that Chime had somehow cut himself badly, though how he had managed it was a mystery. Lithe must have thought so too because she jumped up and elbowed Moon aside to lean over Chime.

But Chime gasped, “I heard it, the voice. It’s close now. It knows the Fell are here, it can—Ow!” He wrenched away from Lithe, pushed himself up, and shook his head furiously, then pressed his hands to his temples.

“Chime—” Moon began, and Lithe hushed him hurriedly. She said, “I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I feel like we should let him do it.”

Moon hoped that “I feel” was a mentor’s certainty and not an ordinary guess. He made himself sit still and wait. Floret watched Chime nervously, and Lithe flexed her claws in anxiety. Then Chime broke his stillness with a shudder. He rubbed his eyes and lifted his head. His face was drawn, his expression frightened. “Oh, that was bad.”

“What happened?” Moon demanded, in chorus with Lithe.

“I heard the voice, I saw into it, and it could see the Fell. They aren’t like individuals, they’re like… one being.” He waved a hand helplessly, still frazzled. “I know we knew that, that the rulers share memories, but this was… I couldn’t stand it, and I had to push it out of my head.” He told Lithe, “It was like how you look into someone’s mind, but in reverse. I wasn’t sure it would work, but it did.”

She patted his shoulder. “I’m glad it did. If it or the Fell had known you were there, it might have been much worse.”

“What did the voice say?” Moon asked. “Could you—” Then he felt the deck sway under him, a sudden cessation of motion that must have rocked everything in the giant sac. Floret hissed, “We stopped.”

Chime winced, as if bracing himself to give very bad news. “I only heard part of it. But I thought the voice said, ‘Come to me now.’”

Moon pushed to his feet as the others stared at Chime. We waited too long, he thought. “Get the oil and the weapon ready. I’m going up on deck.”

Lithe followed him to the base of the steps. “What are you doing? If they’re taking Shade to this creature—”

“I don’t know,” Moon told her, and shifted to his winged form. “I want to try to see what’s happened.”

Moon pushed the hatch open and climbed out onto the deck. The boat jolted suddenly, so hard it almost knocked him off his feet. He looked up in time to see their guard kethel launch itself into the air, hard flaps of its leathery wings tearing the supports of the sac as it fought its way upward. Dakti still perched on the boat’s railings, some watching the kethel leave, others eyeing Moon.

He looked toward the nest and saw several dark shapes take flight. He spotted the progenitor by her size and the smaller headcrest; the others were rulers. At first he thought Shade wasn’t with them, then he saw one of the rulers carried someone in groundling form, a pale-skinned shape with dark hair. Shade, Moon thought in despair. Too late to stop them, too late to do anything. Then he heard a thump behind him and whipped around.

Another Fell had landed on the deck, and for a moment he thought it was a young ruler. It had a slender build and was no taller than his shoulder. Then he got a better look at its head and sexual organs, and realized it was the young progenitor he had glimpsed in the nest.

She stepped toward him, deliberately menacing. “You’re left all alone.”

Her voice was almost identical to the older progenitor’s, but there was a higher-pitched, unformed note to it. Moon lifted his spines and bared his teeth. A glance toward the hatch told him several dakti had moved to block it. He didn’t want them to get the idea to go below. He said, “Aren’t you a little young for this?”

She stopped. It was always hard to read expressions on Fell, and always a mistake to attribute normal emotions and reactions to them, but he thought she was taken aback. He added, “Are you even pubescent yet? I thought you were a dakti at first.”

She lunged at him and he sprang away from her and landed at the opposite end of the deck. A dakti leapt at him and Moon jumped and spun, catching it across the belly and chest with his foot claws. He landed on his feet and it dropped to the deck in a bloody heap.

A rustle ran through the other dakti, as if the quick dispatch of their companion had just roused their bloodlust.

The progenitor rasped, “Brave. But you run from me.”

“I don’t like you.”

She eased forward. “I think I would like you. My progenitor told me the skin of Raksuran consorts is like silk.”

Moon needed a rapid change of subject. “Is that all she tells you? Nothing important? She left you behind here like the dakti; am I your prize for staying out of her way?”

She straightened and her armored crest suddenly lifted and expanded out into a fan shape. Moon had never seen a Fell do that before; that he was seeing it now was not a good sign, but at least he knew he had hit a nerve. She said, “I know everything. She left me here to command her other children.”

“You don’t even know who the guide is.”

“No one does. We know what it will give us. That is all that matters.”

The Fell don’t even know what they’re walking into, Moon thought. Obviously the Fell’s idea of judging risk was different from anyone else’s. And they had dragged Shade along with them. He thought he might manage one more question before the progenitor figured out what he was doing, but she stalked forward. “The warriors haven’t even come out to defend you. They must not value you very highly. Or perhaps they’re afraid—” She froze in startled realization and whipped toward the hatch.

She knows. She had realized that if the warriors hadn’t come out after all this jumping and growling, it was because they were occupied inside.

Moon flung himself at her as she lunged for the hatch. He connected with his claws, then ripped away from her wild grab for him. The dakti shrieked and leapt at him.

A crack and a thump sounded from inside the boat. Then something whooshed just below the hull and brilliant light flashed. The dakti halted in confusion and the progenitor went still. Then she leapt to perch on the railing.

Moon reached the rail and leaned over to see flames leap up the supports and webbing some distance below. Then what must be the second cask, open and releasing a stream of oil, bounced off another clump of webbing and fell further down, vanishing in the dimness of the sac. Then a ball of fire struck the oil-splashed material and burst into so many sparks it was like stars in the night sky. Moon winced away from the bright shock, his vision going white for an instant.

Dakti screamed and the young progenitor keened in rage. Moon’s eyes cleared just as she backhanded him. The blow knocked him sprawling across the deck. Dazed, he rolled over in time to see another fireball shoot up from the bottom of the boat, angled upward toward the nest. It hit the bulky structure and exploded again into eye-searing fragments. That thing works much better than we guessed, Moon thought, stumbling upright. No wonder Delin had had it hidden away in his cabin, away from any accident.

The progenitor spread leathery wings and sprang into the air. She flapped frantically, jumping from one web support to the next, headed for the nest. Sparks still fountained up from the projectile, streaking through the wood and debris. The oil casks had all fallen below the ship, and the nest was too far above it to be splashed by the spray, but the sparks caught anyway and little tongues of flame sprung up in the dark mass. It’s all that dry wood, Moon thought.

The dakti leapt into the air after the progenitor, and they headed for the nest. They were all focused on it, ignoring Moon completely. Their clutches are inside, Moon realized, and had to squelch a surge of guilt.

Floret and Saffron burst up from the hatch, ready to fight, surprised by the empty deck. Smoke rose up from below and Moon went to the rail again. He jerked back as a shape scrambled toward him, then realized it was Chime climbing up the outside of the hull, the fire weapon slung over his shoulder with a makeshift strap. Below Chime, toward the bottom of the sac, Moon saw flames flicker in the webbing and supports, obscured by the heavy smoke. A kethel thrashed around down there, trying to pull the burning material free.

Chime swung over the railing and explained, “I fell out when we forced the panel open, so I just stayed out here.”

“Get the kethel!” Moon pointed.

Chime turned around and took another projectile packet out of the bag. He struck the wick against a small rough panel on the side of the weapon, and it sparked into flame. Then he pushed it into the tube, pumped the handle, and aimed down at the kethel. The weapon fired with a muted thunk, the packet bursting into a fireball as it flew through the air. “Once it’s lit, you have to shoot fast,” Chime muttered.

Floret reached Moon’s side. “Lithe’s staying below with the wounded.” She hesitated. “Was there any sign of Shade?”

“Yes.” Through the rapidly rising smoke, Moon saw the projectile hit the kethel’s back and explode into burning fragments. It howled in rage and pain. Its flesh didn’t seem to catch on fire and but the weapon had obviously hurt it. Thrashing, it dropped down into the burning mass at the bottom of the sac and vanished. And Moon glimpsed daylight, real daylight. “The sac’s open.”

“What?” Chime and Floret leaned over to look. Chime added, “Yes, there’s a hole, I see it!”

The lower part of the sac, where the oil and burning debris had collected, was dissolving in the heat and flames. Red and orange light shone up from it, illuminating the smoky haze as if all the air was on fire. But Moon couldn’t tell if the opening in the sac was big enough. “Can you lower the boat down through there?”

“I can try. If we’re not too low already—” Chime stared at him, startled. “You think we can escape?”

“No,” Moon told him, “but I think we should try.”

Despair and hope warred in Chime’s expression, but he handed the fire weapon and the bag of projectiles to Moon and darted for the steering cabin. Moon said, “Saffron, go with him!” Someone needed to guard Chime if the dakti returned.

Saffron bounded after Chime, and Moon turned to Floret. Flickers of fire glowed all over the nest, obscured by the smoke, and the Fell would never be more distracted. He pointed toward the part of the sac where the rulers had flown with Shade. “The progenitor and the rulers went that way with Shade. Try to get out through the sac and go after them. If there’s no chance to help Shade get away, follow and see where the Fell are taking him.” Moon was counting on the fact that Jade and Malachite and Stone were certain to track the Fell here eventually. How soon depended on whether Celadon or any of her warriors had gotten away or not. Somebody had to be here to tell them what had happened.

Floret cocked her head. “Why ask me and not Saffron? She’s from his court; she has to protect him.”

Moon hissed in impatience but answered her. “Because she won’t leave Ivory, and you know I won’t leave Root and Song.”

Floret hesitated, but then dropped her spines in acknowledgement. “Yes, I do know that.” She stepped away. “Good luck!”

Floret sprang into the air, flapped hard, and disappeared into the heavy smoke and haze rapidly filling the sac. The boat started to drift down, jerked as it hit a support web. Moon lit another projectile and shoved it into the weapon, pumped the lever and fired down toward the bottom of the sac. Judging by the resultant explosion, it hit something, though he couldn’t see what.

He readied another projectile and fired it up at the nest. There were several packets left, and he struggled between the urge to fire them all off or wait until he could spot another kethel or a better target. The nest wasn’t burning as well as the supports and webbing at the bottom of the sac, but then it hadn’t been splashed with lamp oil.

A scatter of dakti appeared out of the smoke, dropped to the deck and charged him. Moon slung the weapon over his shoulder and lunged to meet them.

One flew at his face and as he slashed it aside another one grabbed for the fire weapon. It missed the metal tube but its claws caught the bag with the projectiles and yanked it off the strap. Moon lunged for it but the dakti yelped derisive laughter and threw the pouch over the railing.

Over the railing, right above the fire burning on the supports and at the bottom of the sac. Moon yelled, “Saffron, Chime, get down!” He dropped and covered his face.

The fire below made a terrifyingly loud whoosh noise and heat washed over the deck. Moon waited for the flash of light leaking between his fingers to fade, then jumped up. Dakti sprawled all over the deck, or reeled from the stunning brightness of the flash.

Slashing and tearing at the half-blind dakti, dodging their attempts to pile on top of him, Moon felt the deck sway as the craft sank down toward the bottom of the sac. Choking smoke filled the air until he couldn’t even see across the boat. There must be an opening in the top of the sac somewhere, because the smoke kept streaming upward; it was the only thing that let them all keep breathing. He hoped that meant Floret had gotten out.

Heat washed over the deck and flames rose past the nearest railing. Moon slashed open the belly of the next dakti who flew at him and tossed it over the side. Flying boats, kept in the air by the sustainer that allowed them to drift on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds, could only go so far down to the ground. Moon had seen one get as close as twenty or thirty paces but he wasn’t sure if Chime knew how to make the boat do that. If the sac was already low in the air, they could be trapped in the flames.

A dakti hit Moon from behind and knocked him to the deck. He stiffened his spines and rolled to impale it, then lifted his feet, catching another with his disemboweling claws when it tried to dive on top of him. It fell away, keening, and he rolled forward to shake the dying one off his back. He stood up and recoiled in shock.

The rest of the dakti had fled and the deck was level with the burning surface of the sac, sinking into an inferno. The intense heat stung in the cuts and slashes in his scales, seared his eyes, and the stinking smoke boiled up. Past the ring of fire, Moon could see the sac wasn’t burning away nearly as fast as he would have liked. The splashed oil and falling debris had managed to catch this part of it on fire, and it was slowly eating away at the rest, but the whole sac was not going to burn.

The good part was that the boat didn’t seem to be on fire either, even though fragments of burning web landed on it. The plant material it was made of must be just as resistant to burning as cutting. Moon hurried to put out the spots he could reach anyway, singeing his scales to stamp on them. He found a stray projectile packet that must have fallen out of the bag and hastily collected it; if flaming debris had landed on it, they would have discovered just how flammable the boat was.

Then suddenly the boat dropped past the fire and they were in open air, so fresh and strong and salt-scented it was like a welcome slap in the face.

It was late afternoon under a sky stained with gray clouds, and they were on the edge of a rocky coast. Gray stone slopes led down to a narrow ribbon of beach washed by waves. Dozens of islands dotted the deep blue water, some just scatters of peaks standing above the surface, others large domes of rock that supported small jungles of greenery. They covered the water as far as Moon could see.

Moon looked up at the sac, the great mottled mass looming over the little boat. From here the small size of the burning hole was frighteningly obvious; a little smaller and the boat would have been trapped.

Moon crossed the deck in one bound and reached the steering cabin. Chime had both hands on the steering post. Saffron guarded the entrance. From the slashes in her dark copper scales, she must have fought dakti as well. Moon tried to talk, realized his throat was raw from the smoke, and gasped out, “You all right?”

She nodded, coughed harshly, and managed to ask, “Where’s Floret?”

“I sent her after Shade. I didn’t think we’d make it out.” The coast seemed empty, with no sign of her or the progenitor’s group.

Chime, wild-eyed but determined, snarled, “Neither did I, believe me! Where do we go now?”

Moon had no idea; he had never expected to actually survive to this point. But there were no undistracted Fell to see which way they went, and if they could get the boat and the wounded far enough away, he could double back to look for Floret and Shade.

The cliffs ran back from the shore, turning into rocky canyons with peaks shaped by the wind into rounded pillars and arches. Moon pointed to a gap between two sloping cliff faces. “Inland, downwind, fast.”

Chime leaned on the steering lever, bringing the bow around to point in the right direction. At least the wind was with them, though Moon wasn’t certain if trying to open the sails for more speed was a good idea or not. All his instincts about wind and how to ride it didn’t seem to apply to this craft, and he didn’t want to get swept into a mountain by an errant gust.

As the boat drew further away, he saw the three kethel supporting the sac from above were flapping in confusion, the smoke pouring up over them. Two were trying to tug the sac inland and one was pointed back toward the sea. Dakti had come out the top and buzzed around them, in and out of the smoke, adding to the chaos. With the wind rushing in through the bottom, the fire had turned the whole sac into a chimney. Dealing with that should keep the kethel nicely occupied.

“How did you make that big burst of fire right as we started down?” Saffron asked, blinking into the wind. Her eyes were red and streaming from the smoke.

“Dakti got most of the projectiles and threw them in the fire.” Moon decided the sail was worth a try. “Let’s get the—”

“Kethel!” she snapped and pointed toward the sac.

Moon turned in time to see the big dark shape drop out of the burning opening. It flapped its webbed wings, shaking off sparks and flaming debris, then caught the wind and headed straight for them. Moon pulled the fire weapon off his shoulder, readied and loaded the last projectile, aimed as best he could and fired.

It clipped the edge of the kethel’s wing and exploded into bright fragments. The kethel roared and jerked away, then plummeted toward the rocks below. But it twisted out of the fall and flapped hard, climbing rapidly toward the boat.

That’s that, Moon thought. He dropped the empty weapon, snarled, “Stay with the boat,” at Saffron, and sprang to the railing. He snapped his wings out and fell into the air.

Flying against the wind slowed him down but the kethel was advancing so fast it didn’t matter much; he cut straight towards its face, slashed, and then twisted away from a grab. He hadn’t connected but the creature was already furious, and it had seen that he was the one who had fired the weapon at it. So when he dropped toward the cliffs it dove after him.

Moon knew he had to keep the kethel’s attention and last long enough for the boat to lose itself in the mountains. He slid left and right in the wind, flapping to keep his speed up. The kethel closed with him, so near that its hot breath rushed over him.

He flew in close to a cliff, skirted dangerously along the rocky face, fighting the gusts that tried to push him into it. He felt the kethel behind him, too close, and tipped his wings up and fell to the side and away.

The kethel scraped along the cliff in a flurry of dust and rock, then shoved off it with one foot. Moon dipped down towards a rounded peak, losing track of the kethel for one dangerous heartbeat. Then it slapped him out of the air.

He bounced off rock with stunning force, just managed to pull his wings in, then tumbled down the slope in a rush of pebbles and dust. He clawed at the rock to stop his headlong fall and caught himself on a ledge.

Dazed, winded, he looked up to see the kethel climbing down the slope toward him, its big claws crunching into the gray rock, its mouth open in anticipation, fangs gleaming.

As the kethel loomed above him, something big and dark dove in and struck its back. It flattened the kethel against the cliff face and the kethel flailed and writhed to try to dislodge it. Its clawed hand slammed down next to Moon and a small avalanche of rocks rained down on him. He scrambled along the ledge, trying to take flight but the kethel’s bulk was too close and its huge wings beat frantically around him. In an instant it was going to crush him.

Then he caught the scent of familiar Raksura in the wind and somewhere below him, Jade’s voice shouted, “Moon, jump!”

Moon’s heart leapt, and he rolled off the ledge into open air.

Chapter Nineteen

Moon fell into Jade’s arms, and she whipped away from the cliff so fast it took his breath. She crossed the narrow canyon, landed on a sharp slope, and slid down to firmer footing on a ledge. She set Moon on his feet but didn’t let go of his waist; her scent washed over him, clean and welcome. He leaned into her warmth, the relief so heady it made his knees weak.

From this angle he could see that the dark shape with claws sunk deep into the kethel’s back was Stone. He had bitten down into the creature’s neck, cracking through its armor plates. The kethel thrashed again, its tail lashed, and it slid further down the slope.

The abrupt change of fortune had scattered all Moon’s thoughts and half-formed plans. All he wanted to do was stand here and hold on to Jade, but he made himself try to catch up. “Celadon escaped?” She must have, for Jade and Stone to have followed so quickly behind the sac.

“Yes, with Delin and four of her warriors.” Jade took his chin and turned his head to face her, looking into his eyes with a sharp intensity. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” It was also a relief not to have to lie. “It was Shade they wanted. The progenitor and the rulers took him somewhere. I sent Floret after him when the fire started. Chime’s all right, too. Root and Song are alive but hurt.”

Jade released his chin and his gaze with a hiss of relief. “When I saw the sac catch on fire, I knew it had to be you and Chime.” She raised her voice to yell, “Stone, stop playing with that thing and finish it!”

Stone’s snarl echoed off the canyon. With his teeth still clamped in the kethel’s throat, he slid his claws forward and into the space under the kethel’s armored collar. He jerked his hands down and twisted his head, and black blood fountained out and down the cliffside. The kethel struggled wildly and dragged Stone down the rocks and almost over the ledge Moon had been trapped on.

Moon told her, “The flying boat—”

“We found it before we found you. The others are there now.”

“How did you get here so fast?”

“We left the warriors and Delin behind to warn Opal Night, and Stone flew as fast as he could, carrying me and Celadon and the other queens. When he had to rest, he shifted and one of us carried him. We stopped only to eat.” Jade added with more than a trace of wryness, “Malachite kept up on her own.”

“Malachite kept up with Stone?”

“Yes.” Jade bared her teeth, an unconscious grimace of irritation. “Your mother is sustained by pure rage. Why did the Fell want Shade?”

The kethel’s struggles grew weaker, turned into death throes. Stone released his grip and the kethel tumbled down, bounced off rocky protrusions and ledges, then plunged toward the bottom of the gorge. Moon answered, “They’re following a voice, something that they can hear but we can’t. It’s been telling them to come to some place along this coast. It told them it wanted a crossbreed consort; we’re not sure why.”

Jade growled in a combination of anger and dismay. “Is that what this was about?”

“I think—” Moon sensed movement above just as Jade dropped him and snarled a warning. He flared his spines and crouched. Two rulers and a cluster of dakti arrowed down toward them.

Moon had time to think they were in a bad spot, they wouldn’t make it into the air before the Fell hit them. Then something large and dark green whipped down out of nowhere to slap the first ruler out of the air and strike the second in mid-dive. Belatedly, Moon realized it was Malachite.

Her dark green scales were almost black in the daylight and her spines rippled in the sea wind. Moon hadn’t seen her outside the confines of the colony before, and it was a shock to see her now. In the wind, she was all predator.

Malachite landed on the rounded boulder above them and ripped her claws through the ruler, blood spraying as she tore his head off. The second ruler flapped out of control and slammed into the slope to the side of the boulder. Jade pounced and flattened him to the rock. Moon braced himself to spring up and take on the dakti, but Malachite tore two of them out of the air before he could unfurl his wings. Rock crunched below them as Stone scrambled up onto a lower ledge, and the rest of the dakti fled in shrieking terror.

Malachite shook the blood off her spines and turned to Jade and the last ruler. Moon said, “Wait! Ask him where the progenitor took Shade.”

Malachite’s spines rattled in fury. She reached down, seized the ruler by the throat, and yanked him up as Jade pulled away. Malachite shook the ruler. Her voice was hard and cold, too controlled to be a snarl. “Where is the other consort?”

The ruler was dazed, his chest ripped by Jade’s claws and the swipe that had knocked him out of the air. He growled weakly, and Malachite set a claw tip to his right eye. She said, “The others sent you out here to die, and die you will. Slowly, or quickly.”

Moon saw the ruler’s body quiver, and remembered what Malachite had said about the Fell: that their instinctive obedience to the female progenitors could be used against them. Almost as if the words were being drawn out against its will, it said, “An island. Not far.”

Malachite squeezed, snapped its neck, then ripped its head off and tossed it and the body down the slope.

Jade’s spines rippled in pure exasperation. She said, “You could have asked it which island!”

Malachite’s tail lashed. She said, “They always lie on the second question.” Her gaze was on the sky, but the shape flying toward them was Chime, carrying Lithe.

Malachite settled into a crouch as Chime landed awkwardly on the far side of the boulder. He and Lithe scrambled around to a perch above Moon and Jade. Chime looked frightened but determined and Lithe just looked determined. She told Moon, “We thought you’d need our help to look for Shade.”

Malachite’s attention turned to the retreating sac, which was just coming into view again past one of the pointed peaks. The kethel supporting it had finally gotten organized enough to head along the cliffs. Occupied as they were, they didn’t give any sign that they had seen the fate of the kethel or the rulers who had come after Moon. If they had any sense they were looking for a section of beach wide enough to set the sac down so the fire in the bottom could be dealt with. Malachite tilted her head toward Moon. She said, “You’re unhurt?”

“Yes. Did they tell you what happened?”

Malachite’s spines dipped in assent. Still without looking down, she said, “Go to the flying ship, line-grandfather. Guard it with Celadon and the others.”

Stone growled and lashed his tail. Jade said, “She’s right. You’re exhausted.”

Moon didn’t think that would do it. He added, “Song and Root are wounded, with Ivory and her warriors. If the Fell find the boat, Celadon is going to need help.”

Stone’s grumbling response rumbled through the rock. Moon interpreted it as meaning that Stone wasn’t happy, but he knew they were right. Then Stone flung himself backward in a spray of pebbles and loose rubble, caught the rising wind in the gorge, and flapped inland.

Malachite said, “Moon, go with him.”

“No.” Moon didn’t intend to argue this point. “Not until I can take Shade with me.”

Malachite didn’t respond except with a spine ripple that Moon couldn’t interpret. Jade hissed in frustration. She clearly wanted to send Moon to the boat, but the idea of siding with Malachite on any point involving him was too painful to contemplate. Moon got the idea that the only good thing about the frantic pace of the race after the sac was that none of the rescuers had had much chance to speak to each other.

With no warning, Malachite sprang into flight. Jade snarled, “I suppose she wants us to follow her,” and jumped off the ledge to take to the air. Chime grabbed Lithe and he and Moon scrambled to follow.

Moon flew even with Chime to shout, “I can take Lithe. You go back.”

“No.” Chime sounded as if he was holding onto his resolve with effort. “I heard that voice once. Maybe I can help, like what happened on the leviathan.”

Moon thought he was right, but he had wanted to give Chime the option to retreat. None of them knew what they would be facing.

As they drew near the cliffs above the rocky beach, Moon looked for the sac. It was some distance down the coast now, and the kethel were lowering it toward a relatively flat section of beach that was heavily washed by waves. The bulge of the sac scraped against the cliff and it was still releasing a plume of dark smoke. If the Fell managed to lower the sac into the surf, they wouldn’t have long until the fire was under control; depending on whatever orders the progenitor had left, they might come looking for vengeance soon.

Moon heard a shout from ahead and looked toward the sea just as a familiar scent arrived on the wind. A shape with the bright scales of a warrior flew toward them from the array of islands just off the coast. Floret spotted them and circled, indicating that they should follow her.

Floret led them far out into the water to a rocky collection of spires. Moon landed on a damp, salt-encrusted rock below Jade, using his claws to keep from sliding down, and climbed up after the others to an uneven ledge along one of the peaks. Floret said, “Am I glad to see you all!” She pointed. “The Fell went there.”

It was a tall island several hundred paces away, an uneven dome of rock covered with heavy greenery, standing high above the water. It was mostly vertical, made up of cliffs and steep slopes covered with trees and clinging vines. There was no beach built up around it; the waves crashed directly against stony cliffs. At the very top, water gleamed through the fern trees, spilling down one of the cliffs to vanish in the jungle.

Floret continued, “They flew to the top, near where the waterfall comes out, then went into the jungle. I waited a while, then flew over, but I couldn’t get sight or scent of them. It was like they went into the rock somehow, but I couldn’t see any caves.” She dropped her spines in chagrin. “I’m afraid they left, and I didn’t see them.”

“You didn’t have much time to search,” Jade said. “They could be there somewhere.”

Moon said, “Lithe, is this the place you saw?”

Hanging on to Chime, Lithe shaded her eyes to study the island. She grimaced. “I saw trees growing on cliffs, saltwater and rock, and crashing waves. But that description fits most of these islands.”

“Where is that water coming from?” Chime muttered.

Jade asked, “What do you mean?”

“If it’s fresh, there has to be a spring, a well, pushing it up through the rock. If it’s saltwater, what’s pushing it?” He glanced around and saw the queens staring at him. His spines flattened defensively. “I just think it looks odd.”

But Malachite said, “As if it’s not natural.”

Chime nodded, relieved that she understood. “Yes, that.”

Malachite crouched and sprang into the air, her claws leaving jagged scrapes in the rock. Jade protested, “We need to talk about—Damn it!”

Moon twitched with the urge to hurry, but made himself wait for Jade. Chime groaned and said, “I hope I’m not wrong.”

Jade just growled in her throat and followed Malachite, and Moon, Chime, and Floret leapt after her.

Malachite had already circled over the island once and now dove down to land near the source of the waterfall. The foliage was so thick, Moon and the others had to land in the palms or ferny tops of the trees and clamber down. This surprised a number of large colorful tree crabs, which clacked their claws menacingly and skittered down the trunks, but Moon didn’t catch sight or scent of anything larger. There were traces of Fell stench on the leaves, caught when the Fell had brushed against them. He couldn’t pick out Shade’s more subtle scent.

The ground was covered with thick, low grass and flowers with heavy succulent stems. The waterfall was fairly narrow, only about twenty paces across at this point, and emerged from a slot in the bluff just above their heads. It tumbled across a mildly sloping space where there was barely room between the trees to walk, then dropped off the edge of a cliff to catch on another slope further down and disappear into the jungle again.

Malachite perched on a rock at the edge of the drop. “Floret, where did you search?”

Her voice blended with the falling water, pitched to cut through it but not be heard above it. Floret pointed toward the bluff. “Up there, because I thought they must have gone into a cave. But their scent was already faint.”

“As if they weren’t here long,” Jade said under her breath, and ducked under the low-hanging palms to scan the ground. Moon searched out from the waterfall, poking at the dirt under the grass and matted flower stems. The sea wind was blocked by the trees and the bluff, so if the Fell had lingered here at all, their scent should be much stronger. They didn’t just stop here briefly and leave, or Floret would have seen them. They might have climbed down through the jungle to the lower part of the island, but he thought the scent trails would indicate that.

Behind him, toward the waterfall, he heard Chime say, “This is fresh water. And that opening in the rock where it’s coming out is too square. Someone must have carved it.”

Moon started to turn back, but a flash caught his eye and he froze, focusing on it. It was a copper disk, lying amid the tree roots. Moon eased forward and picked it up. The incised image of a flower was clearly Arbora work and would have told him everything he needed to know, but he also recognized it. It had come off the anklet that Shade had been wearing.

He reached the waterfall again in a few long bounds, and held up the disk for Malachite to see. “Shade left a trail.”

* * *

They followed the path of scent traces and strategically dropped copper disks through the thick jungle. It led down the slope and around, toward the lower reaches of the rocky bluff behind the waterfall. Playing weak coddled young consort, Shade must have pretended to stumble and fall, long enough to snatch a handful of disks off the anklet.

Following the others through the greenery, Moon realized it might not have occurred to him to do the same in Shade’s position. Shade obviously took it as a given that Moon, or the warriors, or Malachite, or somebody would come after him, whether they arrived in time to save him or not. Moon would have just accepted the gut reaction that they would all think he was dead, dooming himself and leaving the queens no way to figure out where the Fell had gone and what they had been after. You have to work on that, he told himself.

The trail wound down through a nearly vertical gulley, shadowed by trees and heavy growth along its edge. The jungle was curiously quiet; insects hummed in the undergrowth but the birdcalls were distant, and Moon heard only a few rustles and clacks from the tree crabs. At the bottom of the gulley they went through a curtain of vines touched with Fell stench, and came out at the base of the rocky bluff that supported the waterfall.

For a moment it looked like a dead end. Then Moon realized the shadowed fold in the rock was a cave.

Jade reached it first and hissed with surprise. Moon arrived at her side in one bound, barely behind Malachite, with Floret, Chime, and Lithe after him.

It wasn’t a cave so much as an arch, curving to lead into an open well in the rock. In the well hung heavy chains supporting what had been a system of metal stairways, suspended out over the shaft. Several of them descended a hundred paces down to the deep shadowed entrance of a cavern at the bottom. Time and weather and maybe something else had broken a few of the chains and left some of the sections of stairway to hang in various precarious positions. They would have been unusable now by any species that weren’t skillful climbers. The verdigrised metal had been silvery at one point and chased with elaborate curling designs. An overhang shielded the shaft from overhead view, but let in daylight to gleam off the metal and the mineral streaks in the rock.

“So there were groundlings here at some point,” Moon muttered. It was another indication they were on the right track, but the right track to what?

Jade cocked her head to listen intently, and then tasted the air. “There’s seawater down there. But I don’t hear waves.”

Chime leaned out to look down the shaft. “So these were for bringing groundlings up from a harbor, somewhere down through there? But there’s nothing up here.”

Malachite caught one of the chains and swung out onto it. “The metal stinks of Fell,” she commented, and started to climb down.

Jade growled under her breath and sprang for another chain. “Floret, stay up here.”

Floret made a noise of protest in her throat, but quelled it at a dark look from Jade. Floret said, “If you don’t come back by nightfall, I follow you?”

“No, you find the flying boat and tell Stone what happened.” Jade began the climb down.

Lithe’s legs were a little too short to safely make the leap, so Moon leapt for a chain and then swung one of the others into her reach. She caught it and started down. With a worried shiver of his spines, Chime sprang after Moon. “At least we’re not in the sac anymore,” he said as they started down.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Moon said. He didn’t think the Fell had been called here by groundlings, even groundlings with the ability to get out to this island and construct these stairs.

“Be careful,” Floret said, leaning out to watch their progress.

They climbed down rapidly, following Malachite’s lead.

The opening to the cave was dank and cool, the air heavy with salt and the faint scent of rotting sea wrack. The sides were steep for some distance but then opened up gradually.

The chains stopped at a wide ledge in the wall, augmented by a rusted metal platform that had been attached to the rock with a complicated series of buttresses. Malachite already stood on it, and Jade dropped from the chain to land beside her.

Moon swung down off his chain, trying to take it all in. The faint daylight fell down on a series of ledges that stood out from the rock walls, studded by metal ladders, stairways, chains, all apparently designed to allow access further down into the cavern. Leaning out over the ledge, Moon saw dark water lap against rocks at the bottom. But he didn’t see any opening to the outside.

He also didn’t see, scent, or hear any sign of the Fell. They had apparently passed through this cavern on their way to somewhere else.

Lithe collected a couple of small rocks and concentrated until they emitted a soft glow of light. She handed one off to Chime to carry. Malachite leapt down to the next ledge, avoiding the rickety platform attached to it, and they followed her.

“There are carvings on these walls,” Jade pointed out, as she landed on another ledge.

Moon had noticed that too. They were too old and worn down to make much out of, but he could see straight lines and ovals and sharp angles that didn’t look at all like the curling floral designs on the rusted metal. “I think these used to be stone stairs, or something, that collapsed. The groundlings must have built all these metal ones to replace them.”

Lithe used a chain to help her swing across a gap that was a little too wide. “But how did these groundlings find this place?” she wondered. “If Floret hadn’t seen the Fell go to the island, if Shade hadn’t left a trail, we might never have found it.”

Chime said, “Maybe there was a city on the surface once, and the jungle grew over it.”

Moon felt a chill that had nothing to do with the deep still water. He paused and looked around again at the abandoned metal devices, the rusted tools scattered on the pathway. He realized the disintegrating leather oval that lay near his claws was a groundling shoe, cast aside in headlong flight. He said, “Or the groundlings were called here, like the Fell. And they ran away. Whatever they found, they ran away from it.”

They all went still for a moment, absorbing that idea. Even Malachite paused and tilted her head to consider it.

Jade hissed low under her breath. “After all the trouble they took to build these stairs… It must have been something terrible.”

“It can’t have killed them all,” Lithe said, her spines flicking uneasily. “We’d find more remains.”

Malachite leapt down to the next ledge. But she said, “Tell us exactly what you saw and heard from the Fell.”

As they climbed, Moon told them everything he remembered, trying to repeat it as close to verbatim as possible. When he was done he gave Chime a prod, and Chime nervously described what he had heard of the strange voice.

They were getting closer to the bottom of the cavern. The water didn’t smell stagnant, and there was enough movement in it to show that it was connected to the open sea somewhere. But the faded carving and the remnants of the original stone stairs went all the way down past the dark surface, the water lapping against them. Maybe the sea was shallower when they were built, Moon thought.

The last rusted metal stair curved into a deep alcove cut into the wall, ending on a smooth stone platform with steps that led down to vanish under the water. The Fell-stench was pronounced here, as if the Fell had spent some time on this platform.

Hanging from the curved roof of the alcove, suspended from more of the heavy chains, were several bell-shaped metal huts. The rock-lights Lithe and Chime carried reflected off the rusted metal, throwing huge shadows onto the cavern walls. Moon looked around, baffled. The trail clearly ended here.

He turned back to the huts. They looked a little like cargo lifters but were too small to take much of a load at one time. And the round sealed doors were too narrow for boxes and bales, but just right for an average-sized groundling to step through. He had a bad feeling about this.

Jade crouched to examine the edge of the platform, searching for traces that someone had passed this way. “So the Fell swam from here?” she asked, keeping her voice low. Chime and Lithe searched the dark corners of the platform, and Malachite stood still, listening for telltale splashes.

Moon saw the huts were suspended from a heavy metal beam that had been mounted to the old stone walls, and that it held chains and wheels and gears and other strange machinery, so verdigrised it was hard to tell one piece from the other. There were also dark green vines, twining around the chains, and growing down and through the roofs of each little hut. They all came from an odd plant covering the ceiling of the alcove. It looked like a fungus flower, covered with tiny white petals, spread to catch sustenance out of the damp air. This is new, Moon thought, baffled. It looked like the groundlings who had built the huts and the stairs had deliberately placed the vines this way.

Several sets of chains and vines led from the beam straight down into the water, as if those huts had dropped or been lowered below the surface. Some of them looked like they had been that way for turns, the chains encrusted with salt, the vines white and withered. But three sets of chains had had the rust scraped off in patches, as if they had recently been cranked along the beam, and the vines… Moon leaned out over the water to touch one. It was vibrating and making faint hissing noises.

Oh, you have to be joking… Moon stepped around and caught hold of a metal handle on the nearest hut. Jade came to help him, and Chime and Lithe stopped their futile search to watch.

With Jade holding the hut by one of the protrusions on its ribbed metal surface, Moon twisted the wheel-shaped handle and pulled. The door came open with a puff of displaced air and revealed a molded, rusted interior. Moon tasted that air, and then coughed. It smelled of mold and rust and salt but it wasn’t stale. A small window in the opposite wall was set with a heavy piece of faceted crystal, spotted with white stains.

Lithe came over to peer through the door. She said, “There are handholds inside.” She looked up at Moon, startled, as she came to the inevitable conclusion. “Groundlings ride in this?”

It seemed incredible, but that was how everything added up. Moon nodded toward the three sets of recently used chains and vines that led below the surface. “I think the Fell took those down into the water.”

Jade’s expression was dubious, but she said, “Wait here, I’ll take a look.” She crouched down and slipped below the surface.

Moon dropped to the edge of the platform and stuck his head in the water. It was too murky to see anything but the flick of Jade’s tail as she used one of the chains to pull herself down. He sat up and shook the water out of his head frills.

They waited tensely for what felt like a long time, but then Jade surfaced with a splash. She pulled herself up onto the platform, breathing hard. “I went down until I ran out of air, but I couldn’t see the huts. I did see light, though, as if there’s an opening to the outside somewhere down there.”

Moon twitched aside as Malachite stepped up beside him. Her growl was so low Moon couldn’t hear it; he just felt it in the bones behind his ear. She said, “I’ll have to do as the Fell did, and take one of those… things down.”

Getting inside that small metal cage was the last thing Moon wanted to do, but there was no way around it. He said, “If the Fell can figure out how to use these things, we can.”

Malachite moved aside, and gestured with a claw at Lithe. Lithe leaned into the doorway of the open hut, then cautiously stepped inside. The hut swayed a little under her feet. Jade jerked her head at Chime, and he followed Lithe in. Her voice ringing off the hollow metal, Lithe said, “There’s just a lever.” Moon craned his neck to see her cautiously probing a slot in the rusted metal wall. The lever rested at the top of it.

Pointing up at the curved ceiling, Chime added, “That vine. Air is flowing down it. It smells like outside air.” He stepped out again to look at the plant. “It must take the air in through the petals, and push what it doesn’t need out through the vines. Sort of the way mountain-trees do with water.”

Malachite motioned for Lithe to get out of the hut. “All of you wait here.”

Jade exchanged a look with Moon. She didn’t need to speak her reservations aloud. Obviously groundlings had operated these contraptions safely but that had been a long time ago, and there was no telling if they still worked as intended.

Lithe stepped back against the wall of the hut. She said, “I’ll go with you. You might need me.”

Malachite’s spines rose in clear “obey me now” mode. Lithe persisted, “The Fell thought they needed a crossbreed to get inside this place, whatever it is. If they’re right, maybe I can get in too. You don’t want to come all this way and be stuck somewhere, unable to get to Shade.”

Malachite’s ironic head tilt suggested that Lithe’s attempt at emotional manipulation had failed. But she admitted, “Very well, little one. You’ll come with me.”

Her voice cool, Jade said, “I’ll follow in another hut. It’s safer, if something goes wrong.”

Malachite’s tail twitched with annoyance, but she was obviously impatient and arguing the point would be speaking directly to Jade. She ducked and stepped into the hut. Chime blurted, “Make sure the door seals tight.”

Lithe gave him a grim nod, and pulled the door closed. The handle spun as she tightened it from the inside. Jade murmured, “This may be a short trip if these things don’t work like we think they do…”

Then the chains jerked and the metal beam above them groaned and made a whooshing noise. The hut sank slowly into the water. Moon said, “It works.” He hoped it worked. The Fell and Shade might be dead somewhere below, trapped in the missing huts. We’re going to feel really stupid if that happens.

Jade turned to the next hut, caught the handle, and pulled it to the platform. Moon held it steady as she got the door open. It looked the same as the other, if a little more moldy.

Jade stepped inside and said, “You two wait here—”

Moon stepped in after her, holding his hand under the vine growing through the roof to make sure the air was flowing. “I can come with you, or follow in another one.”

Chime groaned in dismay and stepped in after him. “Me, too. Let’s all go together. Then when—if we die, it’ll be less… lonely.”

Jade snarled. “Fine.”

They pulled the door shut and closed it tightly. Then Jade took a deep breath and pushed the lever down.

There was a jolt as the hut hit the water and sank into it. A chill crossed Moon’s scales, sinking down into the skin beneath as the water rose outside the thin metal walls. It covered the crystal window with murky darkness. The only light was the glow from the stone Lithe had made; it flickered, since Chime held it and was shivering hard enough to make his spines rattle. Jade said under her breath, “If we survive this…”

“You didn’t have to come,” Moon said. It came out harshly, mostly because his throat was tight with dread that the huts would burst too far underwater for them to find the way to the surface. To clarify, he added, “I’m glad you did.”

Jade met his gaze. “I told you I would bring you back to Indigo Cloud, whatever it took.”

Moon felt his spines twitch involuntarily. It warmed his heart, and other parts of him, to hear her say it. He shouldn’t need to hear it after everything she had done for him, but apparently he did.

She added, “And if Malachite had really wanted to stop me, she’d just break my wing, so I’m taking that as an encouraging sign. If we get out of this alive, you might put in a word for me.”

Moon nodded. “I’ll try.”

Chime moaned. “This is the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

“I don’t know about that.” Wary of moving too much on the unsteady floor, Moon eased toward the crystal window. He thought he had seen a flicker of light and wondered if it was from Malachite and Lithe’s hut. “The parasites inside the leviathan…”

“That’s true,” Chime admitted, still shivering. “But—”

Moon lost the rest because of what he was seeing outside the window. Jade leaned over to look and gasped in amazement.

They had passed out of the dark water of the cavern and into sunlit blue-green depths. They must be traveling down the outside of the island, with the rocky cliffs that concealed the cavern above them. But light shone from the rock itself.

It was studded with round or oblong windows set into the shapes of pointed arches, or curved towers topped with domes. It was a city, carved into the rock roots of the island. A living city. Moon hissed in awe.

“A sea kingdom,” Jade whispered. Then more uncertainly, “Is it?”

“I don’t see any sealings.” Moon couldn’t take his eyes off the city. Chime pressed against his side and Moon moved back a little so he could get a better view. “I always thought sea kingdom cities would be more… open, more spread out. This looks like it’s all enclosed.” As if it was designed for people who couldn’t breathe water.

“Why would groundlings build this?” Jade said, then answered her own question. “Unless they wanted a city completely safe from the Fell.”

Lost in wonder, Chime murmured, “It has been, until now.”

Or something worse than the Fell, Moon thought.

The hut drew closer to the city, or the rock base of the island sloped outwards toward them. They passed a long curved gallery with large windows, but Moon didn’t glimpse any movement inside. Light glowed up from below, and the hut sank into a stone shaft. The water dimmed from blue-green to a deeper blue, then suddenly bubbled and frothed. Moon felt his ears pop.

The hut jerked suddenly. Moon grabbed Jade’s arm in reflex and Chime grabbed his. In instinctive reassurance, Jade said, “Easy, it’s all right,” but her spines were twitching.

The water suddenly vanished from the window and Moon glimpsed a rounded light-colored wall, lit by a dim blue-white glow. The wall had folds and sinuous curves, like fabric, or an intricate flower. Then the hut landed hard with a hollow thump and the shock made them stagger.

Moon peered out the window. “I think we’re there.” He flinched at movement outside the hut, but it was Lithe, waving to him. “We’re definitely there.”

Jade turned to the door and twisted the handle. The seal around the door popped with released air and it swung open.

They climbed out into a large round chamber, the floor slick and wet, the air damp and smelling strongly of salt and distinct traces of Fell. The faint blue light came from polished jewels like sapphires set into the curving walls, but much of the place was in shadow.

Malachite stood a few paces from her hut, which sat in a puddle of water. She glanced pointedly at Moon, then gave Jade a dark look. She must blame Jade for bringing Moon, not that anybody would have been able to stop anybody else from coming down here, with several huts still working. Jade ignored her.

Chime stared around, then looked up and gasped.

Lithe nodded in agreement. “It’s amazing.”

Moon and Jade followed his gaze, and it was their turn to gasp.

At the top of the chamber, some fifty paces above their heads, water hung suspended, rippling faintly. A curious fish passed in a glimmer of silver. It was like looking up into a giant bowl filled with water.

Chime whispered, “Whoever built this place had powerful magic.”

Lithe said, “And it’s shaped like a flower. It’s like we’re standing at the bottom where the pollen is, and the petals are arching up around us. This must be what I saw when I tried to scry where we were going. From the outside, I bet it looks like the drawing I made.”

Moon pivoted. The floor was flat here where the huts had landed, but towards the center of the chamber it gently sloped down toward some sort of rounded carving. The walls around them arched up in fanfolds that formed multiple petals, up to the opening at the top where the invisible barrier held back the water. Moon felt his back teeth ache with tension. He had been to places where giant flowers ate people. While this one seemed to be constructed of stone or some smooth coral, the resemblance made his nerves itch.

“Look for where the Fell went,” Malachite ordered.

Jade headed for the far wall, and Moon managed to tear his gaze away from the water hanging above their heads. A short distance away, three more huts stood in drying puddles, metal surfaces still dripping with seawater, their doors open. But one hut had clearly been here much longer.

Chime bounced over to examine that one, but Moon stopped to look into the damp, recently-used huts. The Fell-stench was thick in all three. He had been hoping to see one of Shade’s copper disks, but there was nothing. He gave up, Moon thought. At least there was no sign of his body. The Fell must still believe they needed him.

He turned to the old hut. Chime crouched to look inside the open door and said, “Some of the groundlings didn’t make it out.” Moon looked and saw at least three bodies, now jumbled collections of bone, withered skin, and disintegrating fabric. They were all crammed into the back of the hut, as if they had huddled there before death. He couldn’t tell what kind of groundling they had been. The skulls looked somewhat spade-shaped, but without hair or skin it was impossible to identify them.

Chime poked at the scatter of bones, then at the rusted tools lying on the floor. He picked one up, a long bar with a flat end. “I wonder what this is for. Prying something up, maybe?”

Moon circled the hut and looked up at the chain. It was wrapped by the withered remnants of the air-vine, which must have rotted off the main plant at some point. But the chain didn’t look damaged or broken.

Chime frowned, clearly thinking along the same lines as Moon. He said, “Why didn’t they leave?”

“Something got into the hut and killed them before they could seal the door,” Moon said.

Chime’s spines shivered. “So… there’s something here besides the Fell.”

Moon had thought that was a given from the beginning.

Lithe called out, “I think we found the way out!”

Chapter Twenty

Lithe, Malachite, and Jade stood on the slope above the carved flower at the center of the chamber. Moon approached cautiously, but there was something about the slope that made it easy for his foot-claws to keep traction. It looked slanted, but felt like an even surface.

The flower stood a few paces high, made of the same smooth material as the walls and floor. The petals folded into a rounded cone, with only a small opening at the top. If there was a door in it, like there had been in Lithe’s drawing, it was hidden inside.

“There’s no other door in this chamber,” Jade told him. “If there’s a way into the rest of the city, it has to be this thing.”

Malachite circled it. “Flowers open.”

“Have you tried poking it?” Chime asked.

“Yes,” Lithe said, sounding frustrated. She crouched and ran her hand down the petals, trying to work her claws into the folds between them. “But maybe this is what the Fell needed Shade for. Maybe it will only open for a crossbreed consort. I’m obviously not crossbred enough.”

“Except the groundlings opened it,” Moon pointed out. “They didn’t build all these things to get down here, see the flower was closed, and then run off in a panic. And some of them are dead in that hut.”

“If they didn’t open it, something might have come out, or opened it from the inside,” Jade said.

Malachite leaned down to the flower suddenly, her face almost against the white stone petals. She tasted the air so deeply, Moon heard the rattle of her breath. “Careful,” he said, part of his mind still on flowers that ate people.

She stood. “The Fell touched this, and so did Shade.”

Chime was still lost in thought. “So maybe it did open for Shade because he’s the right kind of crossbreed, but that won’t help us. But let’s say the groundlings did open it, and do what they would have done.” He sprang away from the flower and loped back toward the old hut.

Malachite frowned after him, but didn’t object. Lithe said, “I think I know what he means.” She leaned over the flower, bracing herself on the outer petals, and peered down the narrow opening at the top. She shifted to her groundling form to pull a bead off her bracelet. Concentrating for a moment, she made the bead give off a faint glow of light. Then she dropped it into the flower opening.

Moon and Jade bumped into each other trying to see, so Malachite got there first. “Clever,” she told Lithe. “There is a small slot in the bottom.”

Chime returned with the tool he had found in the groundling hut, the long bar with the flat end. He said, “This tool didn’t look like it was for working on anything in the hut.” He braced himself on the flower, and Lithe moved to give him room. She shifted back to her scaled form, which Moon thought was a sensible precaution.

Chime carefully slipped the bar down through the gap in the top of the flower. “It fits, that’s a good sign,” he muttered. “I’m just going to tap the opening… There.”

The flower petals started to rotate and unfold. Moon grabbed Chime by the spines and pulled him away as the flower opened almost under his feet.

Lithe’s glowing bead clattered down to bounce off a ramp shaped like a vine with wide leaves. It was built into a wide shaft lit by more of the blue glowing stones. The ramp spiraled down for two turns then headed out of sight towards the interior of the city. Moon took a deep taste of the air, and caught more traces of Fell stench and a sweet scent that seemed to come from the flower itself.

Malachite said, “Bring the groundling tool,” and dropped down into the opening. Without hesitation, Lithe jumped after her.

Jade growled in irritation. “It’s going to close behind us. We don’t know if the tool will open it from below.”

“The groundlings got out,” Chime said, though he looked doubtful. He shifted to his groundling form, tucked the tool though his belt, and shifted back.

Moon had come this far and wasn’t stopping now. “We’ll have Shade with us on the way out.”

Jade muttered, “I hope so,” and leapt down. Moon followed her, with a nervous Chime behind him.

Malachite and Lithe were already moving down the ramp fast but cautiously. Even though he had been expecting it, Moon winced as the flower rotated shut above them. Jade growled again and started after Malachite.

Moon bounded down the ramp to catch up. The floor material felt oddly soft under his claws. Plants grew across the walls, white mounds of petals like the air plant up in the cave. These might be air plants too, collecting air from vines that reached all the way up through the island to the surface. He thought he could hear something very distant, a faint echo of sound. He whispered to Malachite, “Can you hear anything?” A queen as old as Malachite should have more acute senses, like Stone did.

“Voices,” she replied. “Fell voices. Somewhere ahead, and perhaps below us.”

At the bottom of the ramp the walkway opened up into a bridge over a large hall. Long, thin crystalline windows looked out into the deep blue of the sea in the curved wall to their right. On the opposite side was a series of arched halls with slender pillars carved into the shapes of drifting seaweed. In this strange light the soft coral-like material of the walls was touched with faint, pearlescent colors, blues, greens. And the air currents flowed from every direction; Fell stench was everywhere, with no way to tell where it came from.

Malachite snarled silently in frustration and slowly pivoted, tasting the air. The distant voices had ceased. Moon went to the edge of the bridge with the others, looking for clues. The floors seemed unmarked by any tracks, but these halls were big enough to fly through. Large round doorways dotted the interior walls with leaf-shaped platforms below some of them, but no sign of stairs or ladders. Groundlings couldn’t get far into this place without ropes and grappling hooks, he thought. But the Fell and Shade would have no trouble at all and could have gone anywhere. “We’re so close,” he said to himself.

“We’ll find him.” Jade paced down the walkway, her gaze on the open halls. “We’ll hear them, or—or follow the trail of dead groundlings.”

“What?” Malachite whipped around. Jade pointed a claw toward a small heap of bones and rotted fabric that lay at the mouth of the farthest hall.

Jade said, “If these groundlings fled from whatever it is the Fell are looking for—”

Malachite sprang off the bridge and snapped out her wings, two strong flaps carrying her across the space. Jade grimaced at Moon and leapt after her.

Chime paused to pick up Lithe, and he and Moon sprang into flight.

They landed at the top of the hall, near the groundling’s corpse. The body was stretched out, its spaded skull lying on its side, skeletal arms outstretched. Moon didn’t see any reason why it should be dead. He looked up, but there was no platform or doorway above that it could have fallen out of. It was like something had struck it from behind and flattened it. Beyond the body, the hall stretched out ahead for about a hundred paces, then curved out of sight.

Malachite glanced over the body, then started down the hall. But Chime said, “Wait.”

Moon looked at him and saw his spines trembled. Chime said, “I just heard the voice again. It’s much clearer this time. It’s saying ‘I’ll give you the… something. Teach you power.’” Chime’s whole body shuddered, as if trying to shake off the words. “This is very creepy.”

“At least we know we’re on the right trail,” Lithe said, looking uneasily ahead.

Malachite just started down the hall, but this time she was at least moving more slowly.

They made their way through a series of turns that could have been confusing except for the three other dead groundlings they found to point the way. One hall had a long window to the outside, revealing a few rocky underwater peaks and some drifting semi-transparent creatures like flowers with fins. Close up Moon could see the crystalline substance wasn’t as clear as it looked. It was shot through with hundreds of nearly translucent fibers, like a root system. He paused long enough to lay his hand on the crystal, then jerked back. The material felt weirdly warm and alive and rippled faintly under his touch. Chime watched, wide-eyed, and murmured, “This place is even stranger than it looks.”

As they reached another curving hall, Moon heard a voice and felt his spines flick involuntarily as he recognized the progenitor. He didn’t need to tell Malachite that there were Fell somewhere ahead. She slowed and dropped into a crouch.

At the end of the hall was a round doorway looking down into another large chamber. It had more of the narrow crystalline windows streaking the outer wall. All the curves in their path had taken them some distance down and around. Moon thought they were on the side of the island facing away from shore.

As they edged closer, Moon got a view of the floor of the chamber, some fifty or so paces below. He saw the progenitor and Thedes and four other rulers, and he saw Shade, but the thing they faced captured his gaze so thoroughly all he could do was stare.

In the center of the chamber was something like the bulb of the giant version of a sea-flower, that stood nearly forty paces high. It sat on a nest of vines, some dark and pulsing, others withered and dead. The big white petals at the front had been pulled down, allowing a view of the interior. It was filled with the multitude of writhing stems that in a small sea-flower caught tiny water creatures as prey. This one had prey, too.

The creature caught inside it was big, as large as Stone’s shifted form. But it looked like Shade, like the image in the crystal piece the Fell had shown them. The same dark scales, the armored crest and huge mane of spines.

Malachite drew back from the doorway and so forgot herself as to exchange a look with Jade.

Lithe and Chime stared wide-eyed. Jade whispered what they were all thinking, “Can that really be an ancestor of us and the Fell?”

Malachite shook her head, but it was a gesture of grim realization, not denial. “But why is it here?”

Moon had to ask, “Why would our ancestors live underwater?”

“They wouldn’t.” Jade risked another peek. “Maybe this… ancestor was captured by the species who lived here, and left behind when they died.”

Moon didn’t buy that. “This place is designed for things that fly. We haven’t seen any stairs, anywhere.”

Chime nodded. “And there are these jewel lights, and all these flowers bringing air down here. They make me think of the flower lights in Emerald Twilight.”

Moon thought Chime was onto something. This place was strange, but maybe not entirely unfamiliar. “They do whole trees at Opal Night.”

Lithe said, “That’s just an ordinary mentor’s skill. At least, it is here in the Reaches. It’s been passed down forever.”

And everyone believed that mentors got their abilities from interbreeding with consorts. Moon thought, And Stone said it was the Arbora who made the seeds to transform mountain-trees into colony trees. Maybe this place had been transformed out of the rock of the island itself, with their ancestors’ equivalent of mentors’ magic.

Chime said, “But if our ancestors did build this place, who’s been renewing the spells?”

Lithe looked up at the nearest air plant, spread across the ceiling of the chamber. “Maybe they don’t need to be renewed. Maybe they’re just that powerful.”

The scales of Jade’s brow furrowed as she reconsidered. “They might have had a good reason for building it underwater. To hide something, maybe. Or hide from something.”

Lithe said, “The flower has to be magically sustaining that… person. So he was trapped inside it, all this time?”

Chime seemed uneasily fascinated by the scene below. “He must have called those groundlings to him somehow. Maybe their boat came too close.”

Lithe bounced, excited at unraveling the mystery. “But then the groundlings couldn’t let him out, because only one of his own species, or someone who was close to that species, like a Fell-Raksura crossbreed, can open the trap. Then something happened, and the groundlings fled.”

Chime bounced too. “If his body’s been sleeping, but he can still think, and he’s been here all these turns—”

“If he wasn’t raving mad when he was put in there, he is now!”

“Yes,” Malachite cut through their speculation. “But why was he put here in the first place, in an underwater prison, that only a member of his own species could unlock?”

Everyone went still, thinking over that. Moon supplied the obvious answer. “Because somebody powerful wanted to punish him, and it wasn’t safe to put him anywhere else.” The forerunner hadn’t made groundlings flee and die and Fell attack Raksura to create crossbreeds because its intentions were good.

Malachite gave him a head tilt of approval.

Jade said, “How do we know for certain?”

“Perhaps I’ll ask it, after I kill the Fell.” Malachite stood, spread her wings, and sprang out to drop to the floor of the chamber.

Chime and Lithe recoiled in shock. Jade made a choking noise that seemed to combine rage and astonishment. Moon just stared. “Didn’t expect that,” he admitted. In hindsight, he probably should have.

Jade snarled and leapt after Malachite, and Moon followed.

He landed on the floor, every nerve alert. The progenitor and the rulers had swung to face them at Malachite’s sudden appearance. The Fell were all in their winged forms but Shade was still a groundling. Thedes had caught him by the neck and held a clawed hand to his throat, probably the only reason Malachite hadn’t started ripping Fell apart yet.

Shade hadn’t shifted because he looked like he was about to drop from exhaustion. His pale skin was gray-tinged and there were dark bruises under his eyes, his clothes were torn and filthy; he stared at Malachite as if he thought he was hallucinating her. Of course, Moon thought, they haven’t been feeding him. Faced with the choice of groundling meat or nothing, Shade must have chosen nothing. The Fell could have forced him to eat by threatening Moon and the others, but they had wanted him weak.

Malachite paced deliberately toward the progenitor. Moon had never seen anyone or anything look at a Fell like that. Like Fell were intriguing prey, tricky to catch, but not impossible.

The progenitor didn’t react, though Moon thought he could see tension gather in her body. The progenitor said, “You hate us very much. We must have done something terrible to you.”

“You took my consort and destroyed my court.” Malachite tilted her head and smiled. “Don’t try to get inside my mind. I might let you.”

Moon sensed more than saw an uneasy stir among the rulers. Malachite wasn’t acting the way they expected, and it unnerved them. It’s not a pose. Malachite’s not afraid, and the Fell know it. He wondered if that was what Malachite had been doing for the turn she had stalked the Fell flight. Learning about them, learning how to resist their influence to the point where it didn’t exist for her, learning contempt for them instead of fear. Maybe that was the key to defeating the Fell, that your mental attitude was everything.

The progenitor didn’t draw back, but Moon could sense her regroup. She said, “Why are you here? It does not want Raksura.”

“You know why I’m here. You have something that belongs to me.” Malachite didn’t look at Shade, holding the progenitor’s gaze as if holding her captive, but her meaning was clear. “Why haven’t you let your guide out yet?”

“Perhaps we never meant to.”

Malachite’s spines rippled in amusement. “This is a long way to come for nothing.”

“Other flights found the way for us. Our part was easy.”

Moon threw a look at Jade and saw her attention was entirely focused on Thedes and Shade. She’s waiting for an opportunity. But Thedes might be too old and clever for that. He would know the only thing keeping the Fell alive was the threat to Shade.

Malachite said, “You took advantage of their failures.”

The progenitor inclined her head. “Yes.”

“So why have you changed your mind?”

The progenitor said, “The guide told us it could teach us new powers, give us powerful weapons to defeat the prey who have weapons of fire and projectiles. It told us it had slept for a long time, and only recently woken, and was anxious to help us eat the world.” That was hardly surprising. The only thing the Fell would be truly interested in were ways to eat groundling cities more efficiently, with less danger to the progenitors and the rulers.

“And to destroy Raksura,” Malachite added.

The progenitor seemed to feel that was just an extra benefit. “And that. But we are here and it will not teach.”

Moon couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. He said, “Ask it what it offered the groundlings to get them here. They didn’t let it out, and it killed them.”

The progenitor didn’t look at him, but answered, “The prey could not let it out. It did not know then that the cage could only be opened by one of its own species.”

A strange prison. It could only get free if another member of its species came for it. And nobody came, Moon thought. If whoever had trapped it here had been trying to make a point, then the point had certainly been made.

Malachite hadn’t taken her gaze off the progenitor, but Moon sensed more of her attention had shifted to the creature trapped inside the flower. She said, “But what did it offer the groundlings? The same thing it offered you?”

The progenitor said, “We are people. They were prey.”

That must be a “no,” Moon thought. “Then why haven’t you let it out already? You know it’s a trick, now. You know it won’t teach you powers. You know there aren’t any weapons here. This place is empty. If there were any weapons, the groundlings took them when they fled.”

Malachite must have decided she had heard enough. In the same even tone, she said, “Give us Shade, and we’ll leave you alive.”

The progenitor was equally calm. “You would never leave us alive.”

Malachite showed her fangs in approval. “You aren’t as foolish as you appear.”

Her voice trembling with urgency, Lithe said, “Malachite, why hasn’t the forerunner tried to stop us from having this conversation?”

There was a moment of stillness. The Fell didn’t react.

Malachite’s eyes narrowed. “Shade, did anything happen when you first came into this room?”

“The flower opened,” Shade said, his voice a weak croak. “I don’t think that was a good thing.”

Uh-oh, Moon thought. Chime whispered anxiously, “Maybe it doesn’t need anything but Shade’s presence. Maybe it’s been waiting for the spell, or whatever it is, to finish.”

Malachite must have agreed. She snarled. “Give me Shade and we will all leave here alive.”

There was no warning. The flower opened. It was like a too-near lightning strike, like the explosion when the dakti had thrown Delin’s bag of projectiles into the fire, but without light or heat. A wave of invisible force crossed the chamber, flattening everything in its path. It knocked Moon onto his back and bounced him off the floor. He flashed on an image of the dead groundlings up in the hall, stretched out flat, and the others huddled in the hut they hadn’t been able to escape in.

The force passed on, leaving Moon gasping for air, shivering in reaction. He rolled to one elbow, trying to get his body to work enough to stand. His blurry vision cleared and he saw everyone sprawled on the floor, including the progenitor and the rulers. The Fell who had been closest to the flower lay like they were dead, but he saw with relief that the Raksura were dazed but trying to move. Then he saw the forerunner.

It stood in front of the sea-flower, watching them. He couldn’t read any emotion in its face or spines; it might have been a statue.

Malachite suddenly pushed to her feet, spines flared, breathing rough. She said, “What are you?”

One of the rulers rolled over and stood, its movement jerky and abrupt. Its jaw opened and it rasped out, “I am your ancestor.”

Malachite’s spines rippled in what Moon could only interpret as wary disbelief. He felt cold settle in the pit of his stomach. The forerunner was speaking through the ruler, the way rulers could speak through dakti and kethel.

Chime and Lithe both managed to sit up, leaning against each other for support. Shade still lay sprawled near the unconscious Thedes, and out of the corner of his eye Moon saw Jade push herself up to her hands and knees and stretch to grab Shade’s ankle. One eye on the forerunner, she pulled Shade toward her. The creature didn’t try to stop her.

Dazed, Shade started to fight, then opened his eyes enough to see her. He struggled toward her and Jade pushed him behind Moon, then stumbled to her feet. Moon managed to sit up all the way, but he didn’t think he could stand yet. “Are you all right?” he whispered to Shade. Shivering, Shade nodded against his shoulder.

The ruler said, “I’ve waited so long. They meant me to sleep forever, but I woke.” Its eyes were closed, its face and body slack; it looked dead. The other Fell stirred weakly. The progenitor lifted her head, her tail lashed, and she fixed her dark gaze on the forerunner.

Jade flicked a quick glance at Moon and he gave her a sharp nod. He could move if he had to and help the others.

Malachite studied the creature intently. “That’s what you told the Fell,” she agreed. “Why didn’t the groundlings let you out? You called them to you, taught them how to find this place, to use the air plants to reach you.”

Yes, that was what Moon was wondering, too. This was not going how an encounter with an ancestor of their species should go, as far as he could tell. Maybe Lithe and Chime were right and the forerunner was raving mad. Maybe it was worse than that.

The dead ruler said, “They couldn’t solve the puzzle. You are far more clever.”

Jade said bluntly, “So the groundlings ran away and died.”

Lithe shook her head. “And we didn’t do anything, didn’t solve any puzzle,” she said, her voice a bare whisper.

From behind Moon, Shade whispered, “Neither did the Fell. They just stood there, talking to it, but I couldn’t hear its answers.”

Jade said, “It’s lying. The only thing it needed to get out was for Shade to come close enough.”

The ruler said, “I will help you defeat these terrible creatures, all across the worlds.”

Malachite hadn’t looked away from the forerunner but Moon felt she knew exactly where they all were, and was thinking furiously. She said, “Then why have you conspired with them all this time?”

“I had no choice.” There was emotion in the words now, and the Fell ruler trembled as the voice was forced from its throat. “The Raksura could not hear me, and I had to be free.”

Malachite was unmoved. “We have paid dearly for your freedom.”

“I will repay my debt. I will help you destroy the Fell.”

Malachite tilted her head, but her expression gave nothing away. Jade said, “Yet you told the Fell you would help them destroy us.”

“I had to lie. Have you not lied to these creatures, to survive?”

That hit home for Moon. But looking past the captive Fell, at the forerunner itself, he thought, It stands so still. Why doesn’t it move?

It continued, “Come with me to the surface of the island. I have proof there, hidden weapons and resources. I will give them to you.”

Lithe nudged Chime. “Chime, what is it?”

Chime was staring at the creature, squinting as if it was hard to see, though it wasn’t more than twenty paces away. “It’s not… It isn’t… This is not its true form.” His voice trembled. “I can see two of it.”

Malachite hissed out a breath. She asked it, “Are you deceiving us? What is your true form?”

The progenitor lunged upright. Moon flinched back, pushing Shade behind him, but the progenitor charged the forerunner. She struck it in the chest, hard enough to stagger it back. The rulers sprang at it in her wake—and it changed.

Its body softened and blurred and flowed into another shape, larger, dark and fluid, with more limbs than it had had before. It lifted a double set of wings and bared an enormous array of fangs though its body was so amorphous Moon couldn’t tell where its mouth was. It flung one of the rulers away, the body shredded into bloody fragments.

Malachite spun and snapped, “Go!”

Moon grabbed Shade and sprang for the door. Shade’s groundling body was heavier than Moon had been expecting and he hit the bottom edge of the doorway, just able to catch it with his claws. Shade curled against him, holding on with all his remaining strength, holding his breath as if that would help. Moon hauled them both up into the corridor and Shade gasped with relief.

Lithe hit the wall below him and scrambled up without difficulty, then Chime, who must not have moved fast enough to satisfy either Jade or Malachite, flew over their heads and bounced off the floor. The queens landed an instant later and they all bounded down the corridor.

That was Moon’s first chance to think it through and he realized Malachite was right; they had Shade, all they needed was to make it out of here. Hopefully the creature would slow down to kill all the Fell before it came after them.

Chime gasped, “I don’t think that thing is our ancestor.”

Even if it was, Moon didn’t want anything to do with it. Then he heard a crash behind them, with a whoosh and a rush of water, as if a waterfall had just exploded into the chamber. Oh, no, Moon thought. It couldn’t be that stupid—

Malachite growled, “Don’t stop.”

Moon asked Shade, “Can you see anything?”

Shade looked back over Moon’s shoulder and reported breathlessly, “It must have broken the windows in the chamber. Maybe it won’t—No, the water’s coming right toward us!”

The opening into the first big hall wasn’t far ahead, but the floor leading from it dropped down, offering no refuge from the onrushing sea. Moon could feel the spray on his back.

Jade raced ahead and leapt up, clung by one hand to the top of the arch and held out the other. Moon sprang for the arch, caught it with his claws, but Shade’s weight kept him from using the momentum to swing up and around. He grabbed Jade’s free hand and she pulled, and they both scrabbled up onto a ledge no wider than his feet. Chime landed an instant later, scrambled up with a desperate cry.

Malachite hit the arch then, with Lithe clinging to her, and then the water struck them.

It rushed out below in a white-capped torrent, pouring down and into the hall. Jade crouched and grabbed one of Malachite’s wrists, and Chime grabbed the other. Still holding Shade, Moon had to watch helplessly. There was just no room to brace themselves and Jade and Chime couldn’t hold on for long.

Then Lithe climbed around and up Malachite’s back, got her claws into the ledge and pulled herself up next to Chime. Without the extra drag, Malachite clamped her claws into the ledge, constricted her body, and popped up out of the water like a jumping fish.

As Malachite hooked her claws into the wall, Jade asked, “Where now?”

“We make our way back to the outer door.” Malachite scanned the hall. “There’s a perch across there. We should be able to reach that.”

Jade’s spines flicked in assent, and she turned to Shade. “After you and the Fell came down here in the metal huts, the flower-door opened when you touched it?”

Shivering, Shade nodded. “It did. You think it won’t open for the creature?”

“I hope not.” Jade glanced at Malachite. “But if the water has already filled up the ramp to the outer door—”

“I know,” Malachite said, and for once she didn’t seem annoyed that Jade existed. “Once the water fills this place and the pressure eases, we may be able to swim through it.”

Some of us can swim through it, Moon thought. From his own experience he knew Aeriat could hold their breath underwater for far longer than most groundlings, and he knew Jade and Malachite would be just as strong in the water as they were in the air. But Arbora were built differently. And Shade was still unable to shift and seemed to be getting weaker by the moment; his skin felt chilled through his clothes.

Chime said, “Wait.”

They all looked at him. He was half-crouched at the end of the row next to Lithe. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for their reaction, and said, “I don’t think this is real.”

Jade and Malachite frowned. Moon decided to get the question in before anyone else did. He asked, “Which part isn’t real?”

“The water.” Chime sounded stricken. He scooped up a double-handful. “When it’s in my hands, I can’t see it.”

Lithe reached down and touched the water in Chime’s cupped hands, and rubbed her fingers together. “I can feel it. I think I can feel it.”

Heartened that they hadn’t dismissed him out of hand, Chime said, “I think… that creature knows we have Shade, that he can open the outer door. It’s chasing us there. It’s going to follow us right out.”

Shade said suddenly, “My clothes are dry. Moon, your scales are wet, but my clothes are dry.”

Moon felt the sleeve of Shade’s shirt. The light material wasn’t clinging damply, wasn’t spotted with water. If the water was an illusion, the creature could have missed a few details. “Chime, I think you’re right.”

Jade was still frowning, but she said, “You were right about that creature, Chime. There was two of it, in a way. Maybe it isn’t even a true shifter, maybe it was just making us see it as one of our ancestors.”

Lithe said, “That would explain why only a forerunner—or someone close to them, like a crossbreed—could let it out. If our ancestors imprisoned it here—”

Malachite dragged them back to the point. “The water was real enough to kill the groundlings. The creature was still trapped inside the flower, but something made them run, killed them when it caught them. If we can’t make ourselves believe the water isn’t real, it will kill us too.”

Chime nodded anxiously. “That’s the part I don’t have any ideas about.”

A sudden dark stirring in the water below them cut off that line of discussion. Malachite snapped, “The ledge, now!” and grabbed Lithe.

Moon waited, knowing they had to go one at a time, but as Malachite sprang into the air, Jade said, “Moon, then Chime, go!”

There was no time to argue. Moon crouched, leapt, and flapped for all he and Shade were worth. He made it to the perch across the hall, snapping his wings in on the landing. Malachite caught his shoulder to steady him. Chime was right behind him, but as Jade sprang off the ledge, a dark clawed arm shot up from the water to reach for her. Moon gasped but she twisted at the last instant and flapped across the hall. As she landed, Moon snarled, “It almost had you!”

She snarled back, “I know.”

Malachite said, “Children, quiet.”

Moon followed her gaze and saw the dark shape move just under the surface. Something about it was more like a swarm of sea creatures than a single being. And it seemed to have more limbs than it had started out with. It fetched up against one of the seaweed-carved pillars and climbed out of the water, then swung to face them.

Chime made a strangled noise of horror in his throat.

Moon stared, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The creature had killed the Fell, but had merged their bodies with its own, somehow. Clawed arms, legs, a leathery wing, a tail hung from the fluid shape of its back and sides. The progenitor was attached to its chest, her body partially melded with it. Moon could glimpse one of her wings, half unfurled, through the creature’s gray semi-transparent flesh. Then her right arm, still free, twitched and she tried to lift her head; she was still alive.

Malachite hissed slowly, in mingled disgust and shock. Moon thought, The forerunners or whoever built this place left this creature buried alive here for a reason. They wanted to punish it for all the turns left in the span of the Three Worlds for a reason. And whatever we do, we can’t let it get out.

The progenitor said, “Why do you run? They attacked me. I had no choice.”

Moon felt sick. Her voice had a hollow effect, almost an echo. It was clear who—or what—was actually doing the speaking.

Jade called back, “You lied to the Fell and you’re lying to us!”

“I had to be free. Take me to the surface, I will still give you powers—” The progenitor choked, then her voice changed, dropping the strange hollow quality. “This place was first a fortress against it, then its prison when it was defeated.”

“That was her,” Shade whispered, horrified.

Malachite shouted, “How did they defeat it?”

One clawed limb grabbed the progenitor’s remaining arm, and ripped her out of the creature’s own body. It snapped her spine and tossed the corpse into the water. Then it dove in, vanishing under the swirling foam.

Malachite ordered, “That ledge, go!”

They made it in a mad scramble, flapping hard, newly terrified of touching the water. They assembled on the ledge near the archway that led into the next hall, the one they had to get through to reach the ramp and the outer door. This ledge was wider and higher above the water, but wouldn’t offer much protection if the creature came at them.

Moon set Shade on his feet and they both slid down the wall to a crouch. Chime, huddled at the other end of the ledge, was shivering almost as badly as Shade. Lithe squeezed in between Malachite and Jade, her spines flat in fear; Moon didn’t feel so good himself. The creature was using the illusory water to conceal itself, which made it nearly impossible for them to reach the outer door without letting it out. It could come at them at any moment, escape from its prison… What did the progenitor say? A fortress, and then a prison? Moon blurted, “It’s afraid of water.”

Jade’s and Malachite’s attention snapped to him. Jade said, “Because it’s using the illusion of water against us?”

Lithe’s frightened expression turned intrigued, and Chime’s spines shivered in excitement at the thought. Chime said, “Because our ancestors put it here?”

Moon said, “The progenitor said that this place was a fortress against it and then its prison, and then it killed her. It can’t talk to us without her, so shutting her up was more important than trying to convince us to help it. Maybe she was trying to tell us how to kill it.”

Jade wasn’t convinced. “But why would she do that?”

Moon started to answer, then shook his head in frustration. He couldn’t put it into words, the way the Fell became weirdly attached to their Raksuran prey. The Fell often seemed as if they were having a relationship with you that they expected you to reciprocate, and they became angry when you didn’t respond the way they thought you should. Maybe they were, but their complete lack of empathy prevented them from understanding the reactions and feelings of any other type of being. He just looked at Malachite and said, “She had Shade with her all that time. You know how they get.”

Malachite’s gaze turned thoughtful. “That only makes sense if we’re right about the water being a hallucination.”

“I know I’m right about that,” Chime said, more life in his voice. “And maybe that’s what this thing wanted with the groundlings. To make the huts as a way for it to get out of here. Maybe it knew all along they couldn’t set it free. It was waiting for the Fell to make crossbreeds, but once it was out, it needed a way to get to the surface without touching the water.”

“That could be it,” Lithe said. “If the forerunners had a way to get in and out of this place without swimming, they must have destroyed it when they left, to make the prison more secure.”

“So we let the water in,” Moon said.

“We’ll have to swim to the surface?” Chime shook his spines. “Can we do that?”

Jade said to Malachite, “Not all of us.”

His voice rough and weak, Shade said, “I can try to shift. Maybe if I wait till the last moment—”

Moon was pretty sure Shade was lying to keep them from reconsidering the plan. If he could shift, he would have done it by now.

Jade must have had similar doubts. She said, “If we distract it by letting the water in, we could get back up the ramp to the huts.”

Malachite said, “Yes, that’s still our best way out.” Her gaze was on the roof of the hall, on one of the round windows in the curve of the dome. The sea outside pressed against it, the water darker as if clouds had covered the sun somewhere far above them. “The rest of you get ready to go.”

“You think you can just tear through it?” Jade asked. “If more than one of us—”

“What about—” Chime began.

Water boiled in front of them. Moon pushed in front of Shade, instinctively protecting the one member of their group who couldn’t shift. The limb caught him across the shoulder and knocked him off the ledge and into the water.

Moon fell right through the surface, struggling against the illusion. He knew he was falling toward the floor of the hall, that there was no water around him, but for a heart-stopping moment his body was unable to do what his brain told it. He closed his eyes and forced his wings out, flapped with all his strength. He felt his body lifting up, a moment before he collided with a soft surface. He bounced off, slid down, and hooked his claws into it. He opened his eyes to see he was holding onto one of the seaweed-carved pillars, above the illusory water.

He looked back for the others and the creature. The water churned, and Chime clung to the wall above the ledge but Moon couldn’t see anyone else. He almost flung himself toward them but somebody had to let the real water in.

He swarmed up the pillar, and leapt from it to the curved roof, sunk his claws into the soft material and climbed across it toward the round window. It was the same as the other one, the crystalline substance webbed with translucent fibers. He struck at it with his claws and jerked back, anticipating the rush of water. His claws barely scored the tough material. You should have known this wasn’t going to be easy.

He swung out onto the window and dug his claws in, using all his strength, trying not to think about what was happening below him. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and jerked away, but it was Chime with Lithe clinging to his chest. Chime gasped, “Malachite is distracting it, Jade has Shade. We’re supposed to be with her but Lithe had an idea.”

Moon looked down, but couldn’t see anything but boiling water below the arch where the walkway was. Jade, be careful. The creature would be after Shade, knowing it could use him to get through the outer door to the groundling huts. Grimacing, Lithe stretched to reach the clear material of the window. She said, “This didn’t work on the groundling boat, but our ancestors made this.”

Moon didn’t understand what she meant until the crystalline substance started to warm under his claws. He dug them in again and leaned back, bracing his feet on the window. The material felt more permeable, but it still wasn’t tearing. Chime huffed in frustration, then climbed down next to Moon. “Please don’t kill us with your spines,” he said and wrapped an arm around Moon’s waist. Lithe hooked an arm around Moon’s shoulder.

Moon said, “All right, together. One, two, three!”

They all threw their weight back at once. And a small hole tore under one of Moon’s claws, saltwater squirting through it. Moon made a desperate hiss and said, “Again. One—” Then the whole window ripped apart.

The rush of water blew them down into the hall. They were caught in the torrent, as if the whole world had turned to water, and Moon couldn’t imagine how they had ever thought the creature’s illusion of an onrushing sea was real.

Still holding on to each other, they bounced off various hard surfaces and then tumbled to a stop, crammed into a corner. Moon shook the water out of his frills and tried to disentangle himself from Chime and Lithe. They had fallen into the bottom of the hall and the water was pouring in, streaming across the floor toward them. The illusion of water was gone and rapidly being replaced by the real thing. Moon managed to stagger upright, then something grabbed his arm from behind.

He whipped around in alarm, but it was Malachite. She shoved him toward the base of the walkway and reached to drag Chime to his feet, then Lithe.

Moon staggered through the rising water toward the nearest support for the walkway, looking up, trying to see where the creature was. There was a dark blot at the top of the hall that had to be it; it had retreated away from the water, but he doubted it would give up that easily.

Malachite landed behind him, with Chime in one hand and Lithe in the other, both still dazed. Moon took Chime, pulling him against his side. Chime revived enough to loop his arms around Moon’s neck, Malachite slung Lithe over her shoulder, and they both started to climb.

They reached the walkway. Moon saw Jade and Shade waiting at the start of the ramp, both unharmed, and felt dizzy with relief. “I told you to go on,” Malachite said, her voice a growl.

Jade just bared her teeth at her. Shade said, “I wouldn’t go without—”

High in the roof, something made a noise like a high-pitched shriek, like tearing metal. Moon looked back to see the rent in the window running into the roof below and growing rapidly larger. He yelled, “Run!”

Jade snatched up Shade and they bounded up the ramp. When they reached the outer door, Lithe had recovered enough to be set on her feet, though she was still wavering a little. Chime could stand on his own but kept squinting and holding his head. They all watched anxiously as Jade boosted Shade up. He touched the flower blocking the doorway.

Moon held his breath, but it opened just like they thought it would.

They climbed and swung up through the opening, into the big chamber. It was a relief to see the huts still there, to see the invisible barrier still held the water back. Malachite and Jade went last, and both stood beside the flower until it closed. Moon hissed out a relieved breath. Jade nodded agreement. She said, “Let’s hurry. That thing will be desperate and the further we get away the better.”

Malachite started toward the first hut. “Get in, Lithe. You too, Shade.”

Lithe stepped into the hut, shifted to her groundling form, and sat down heavily on the floor. Shade followed and sank down next to her.

Jade said, “You go with them. I’ll take Moon and Chime in the other—”

Moon heard a faint sound behind him and spun around. The flower was rotating open. He fell back a step as the creature’s dark form flowed up out of it. One clawed limb was holding a rusted metal bar—the tool the groundlings had made to open the flower.

Chime whimpered in dismay. “I dropped it, when it knocked you off the ledge, I shifted for an instant and I dropped—”

Moon figured they could sort that out later. He grabbed Chime by the spines and shoved him into the hut, then slammed the door shut and twisted the handle. He shouted, “Pull the lever!”

Malachite and Jade braced themselves, spines flared, ready to battle to the death. The creature flowed toward them.

Then the creature froze, and the lump on top of its body that seemed to be its eyes swiveled upward. Moon looked up and saw the barrier trembling like a pool that a rock had been dropped into. He thought, Oh, clever. One last defense. Their ancestors might have meant to punish the thing by imprisoning it forever, but they had left a trap if it ever got this close to escape.

The transparent barrier shivered and started to give way, releasing first a shower of water like a light rain. It struck the creature like acid, like burning molted metal. It flung its limbs wide in a silent scream and its body started to dissolve. Pieces of the dismembered Fell tumbled out and scattered across the floor. Then its flesh ran in gray-black streams and it melted away.

Moon realized later the green blur was Malachite shoving him down, flinging Jade on top of him, then throwing herself on both of them. The shock as the full weight of the water crashed down still knocked him out.

He opened his eyes, saltwater burning in his throat and lungs, choking him. For a moment all he knew was that something was holding on to him, then his blurry vision cleared enough to show him that it was Jade. She had him clutched to her chest with one arm, the other holding onto to Malachite’s tail.

Malachite was half-climbing, half-swimming up the chain and vine attached to the hut. Moon looked down and saw the round metal roof moving upward. Chime must have finally thrown the damn lever, he thought, numb. Jade was kicking her feet to help Malachite along, and Moon forced his limp legs to move.

Moon blacked out again before they reached the surface. He came to when someone dropped him on a hard stone surface and then punched him in the stomach. Moon’s lungs tried to turn themselves inside out as he coughed up water; someone flipped him over and he went to his hands and knees, choking out the last of it. The first real breath was sweet.

He shook his head and saw Jade crouched next to him, being messily sick. Moon’s body felt like his blood had turned to lead, but he reached over and squeezed her wrist. He was exhausted and wanted to shift to groundling more than anything, but he knew the longer he could hold on in this form, the faster his abraded lungs would heal.

He looked up and saw Malachite standing over them. They were on the platform in the cave, where the huts were stored. She was watching the water with concentrated intensity. Then the surface churned and the hut lifted out, its chain clanging in the support beam.

The door swung open as soon as it was clear of the water and Chime stared anxiously at them. “They’re alive,” he shouted.

They were. Moon decided he had time to pass out again while the others were sorting out the situation, and did.

Chapter Twenty-One

Malachite had to send Chime up to the entrance of the cave to bring Floret, so she could help them get out. In the end, Chime carried Moon, Floret carried Lithe, and Malachite carried Shade. Jade managed to fly on her own, out of pure stubbornness.

As they crossed back to the mainland, Moon still felt woozy and sick. He spotted the sac, resting in the waves some distance along the beach. The smoke had decreased to a thin stream and only a few dakti circled above it. The flight would have felt the deaths of its progenitor and what was probably most of its rulers. The young progenitor might have a chance to rebuild, or the remaining kethel might just kill her in a frenzy of grief and confusion. Either way, the flight was in no shape to make the long journey south to tackle Opal Night. And we’re in no shape to tackle it, Moon thought. He hoped the Fell decided to cut their losses and leave.

It took them some time to find the flying boat, even though Malachite knew in what direction it had been traveling. The sky was darkening toward evening when they located it; the strong wind off the sea had pushed the little craft swiftly inland. As they banked down toward it, Moon saw Stone on the deck, watching their approach. Two daughter queens of Onyx’s bloodline were on look-out, one perched on the small basket atop the mast, and the other on the steering cabin roof.

Chime followed Malachite and Jade down to land near the cabin, where Saffron gripped the control pillar with a determined expression. She sagged against it a little, profound relief crossing her normally hard expression. Stone just looked them over briskly, checking for wounds. “Are the Fell following you?” he said. “This damn boat stinks so bad, I can’t tell if their scent’s on the wind.”

Chime carefully set Moon on his feet. Keeping one hand on Chime’s shoulder to steady himself, Moon shifted to groundling. He didn’t immediately collapse, so he took that as a good sign. He said, “Don’t think so,” and his voice came out in a rough, barely audible wheeze.

Jade rubbed her eyes, her spines drooping from exhaustion. “I haven’t caught any Fell scent since we left the coast.” Her voice was better than Moon’s but not by much.

Stone frowned. “You need to get below.”

Moon couldn’t agree more. Malachite was already carrying Shade down to the hold, Lithe at her heels. With a worried frown, Jade glanced at Floret, who had shifted to groundling and stretched full-length out on the deck. “Floret, are you all right?”

Floret assured her, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to go down to the hold right now. We spent enough time there.”

Stone said, “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

As they limped after Malachite, Jade asked quietly, “Was it very bad?”

Chime said, “It was terrible.”

Moon said, “It could have been worse.”

Celadon met them at the bottom of the stairs. “Everyone’s all right?” she asked, her worried gaze going from Shade in Malachite’s arms to Moon, who leaned heavily against the wall to steady himself on the way down.

“Except for almost drowning,” Lithe told her, as she started across the cabin to where the wounded lay. She crouched down to touch Ivory’s forehead, looking anxiously over the others. “I need to make a simple for their lungs. And Shade’s been starved. Chime, could you—”

“I’ll start heating water.” Chime headed for the metal stove.

Malachite set Shade down and helped him sit. He still looked far too pale, the bruises under his eyes deep-set and his cheeks sunken. Moon sank down next to him and wheezed, “There’s food in that basket. Fruit and bread.”

Celadon hurried to get it. Jade started to pick up a blanket, then sniffed it and dropped it in disgust. Everything aboard the boat still stank from the combination of Fell and smoke, though the hold didn’t smell nearly as bad as it had before, with the mountain wind moving through the vents.

His voice a weak rasp, Shade said to Malachite, “I found out something I need to tell you. Forty turns ago the guide, that thing, told some Fell to go after the Opal Night colony in the east first.”

Malachite went still, staring at him.

Shade continued, “The progenitor told me. They weren’t related to that flight so they didn’t know much about what happened, only what the creature told them, though she tried to pretend like she did.” He turned to Moon. “You were right. They always lie the same way, and after a while you can tell.”

Celadon sat down, opening the basket of provisions, listening in increasing confusion. Her voice still rough, Jade said, “But why Opal Night?”

“Because it thought Opal Night had more in common with the forerunners, because of where the colony was outside the Reaches, that it was the oldest and closest one to the city where the creature was trapped.” Shade shivered, and wrapped his arms around himself. “The progenitor said the guide could sense a lot about Raksura, but we didn’t even know it existed. She seemed to think that was just because the Fell are superior.” He added, with irony, “I guess she didn’t think that at the end.”

Malachite took the provision basket from Celadon. “We’ll talk of it later. Eat.” Her voice was wheezy too, a reminder that she wasn’t invulnerable.

With thinly disguised impatience, Celadon said, “Can somebody tell me what happened?”

Moon started to speak, but the first breath turned into a coughing fit. Digging packets out of her satchel, Lithe said, “Chime and I will tell it. The rest of you be quiet and rest.”

It sounded like a good idea to Moon.

* * *

The simple Lithe made was one normally used for lung ailments, and it made Moon’s sore lungs and abraded throat feel better immediately. It also made the rest of the evening and night pass in a somewhat surreal sleepy haze.

He woke a few times to see Shade sleeping in a huddle under Malachite’s protective wing, and once to find himself curled up against Stone’s side. He remembered a vague conversation where Chime told him that they were going to owe Delin even more repairs, since while taking turns steering the boat, the two young daughter queens had scraped it against the rocks three times. Moon thought Delin was going to be more worried about the hole in the hull. But there was no sign of the Fell. The night was a dark one, with the half moon and the stars obscured by clouds, and the wind drove the boat hard.

Moon woke at dawn next to Shade, with Lithe, Saffron, and Floret sleeping nearby. He got to his feet, carefully picked his way around them, and went up to the deck.

The wind was like cool silk, scented with nothing but the sweetness of trees and the clean dust of the mountains falling away behind them. The sky was still cloudy but the morning sun broke through in spots, warming the wood of the deck under his feet. They were flying above foothills, sparsely forested with big fern trees and vividly pink thorn bushes. Moon thought he heard the distant high-pitched roar of a mountain skyling, but it was lost in the wind and might have been nothing.

Jade perched on the railing, looking down at the ground passing below, and Stone was up in the bow. Chime was in the steering cabin, yawning and leaning on the control pillar. Malachite sat in the center of the deck, facing back toward the way they had come, her eyes on the sky. She wore her Arbora form, though she didn’t look much less formidable. On the softer Arbora scales, it was easier to see her scars.

Moon went to sit near Malachite. She acknowledged his presence with a flick of a spine and tilted her head to regard him.

He started to speak, had to clear his throat, and said, “I’m sorry I said those things to you, back at the court.”

Malachite acknowledged the apology with a nod. “You’re angry at what happened. You’ll be angry for a long time. So will I. All we can do is try not to let it rule us. Or hide it better, when it does.”

Moon thought she was probably right. He looked into the wind, squinting against the dawn light. “I want to be with Jade.”

It was encouraging that Malachite’s reaction was a resigned snort. Her voice dry, she said, “I gathered that.”

“Ivory seems like a good queen, but I don’t want her.”

Malachite’s spines rippled in annoyance. “Ivory is presumptuous.” So no one had been behind Ivory’s offer for him except Ivory. That was also encouraging. Malachite added, “I could get a queen for you from any court in the Reaches you wanted.”

Moon said, “I want Indigo Cloud.” He was aware that Jade had been listening intently to the conversation from the beginning, and that Malachite knew it. Now Stone strolled back from the bow and sat down several paces away, keeping his expression carefully neutral. In the steering cabin, Chime had shifted to his Raksuran form so he could hear them better.

Malachite turned to face Moon, her head cocked skeptically. “Because she lets you do whatever you want?”

“She trusts me to take care of myself, even when she doesn’t want to. I can’t be like a normal consort; I’ll just cause trouble. Look what I did at Opal Night, and I wasn’t even trying.”

Malachite didn’t dispute that. Then she asked the question Moon had been dreading. “Why haven’t you had a clutch?”

Moon sensed Jade react, a flinch that rattled her spines. He set his jaw, gathering his resolve. If he admitted it, Malachite would have to realize no other court would take him. Jade apparently still wanted him, but there was no telling what the rest of Indigo Cloud’s reaction would be. Let’s just concentrate on getting back there first. He said, “Because I’m infertile.”

Malachite’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, a reaction that was not what he had been expecting. She also gave the impression that this was the first thing he had ever said that surprised her. “You’re not infertile.”

Jade said, “Of course you’re not infertile!” She hopped down from her perch and came to sit across from him. She hissed in exasperation. “We’re queens, we know.”

“How am I supposed to know that?” Moon floundered for a moment. He had been so certain. He blurted, “Then why haven’t we had a clutch?”

Jade folded her arms and looked away. “I don’t know.” From her expression, it cost her something to say the words aloud, but after they were out she seemed almost relieved. Her spines twitched anxiously. “I was afraid it would be blamed on you, that the court would think you weren’t trying.”

It had never occurred to Moon that Jade might be as insecure as he was, that she might have wanted to avoid the subject for reasons of her own, that she had been just as afraid as he had been. “But—” He began, then cut the word off with a yelp when Stone clipped him in the back of the head.

Obviously caught between fury and exasperation, Stone said, “It didn’t occur to you to ask me?”

“You were gone!” Snarling, Moon moved out of arm’s reach. He saw Chime, in the steering cabin, clap a hand over his eyes. Celadon, who had wandered up from the stern at some point and leaned against the railing, shook her head. He protested, “I was waiting for you to get back!”

Stone flung his hands up to the sky as if asking it to witness what he had to put up with. He turned to Jade. “You didn’t ask Pearl?”

“Of course not.” Jade sounded as if that was the most idiotic thing she had ever heard. “I can’t talk to her about anything.”

Stone glared. “Can’t or won’t?”

Malachite hissed, and everyone abruptly stopped talking.

Malachite tapped her claws on the deck. She didn’t look like she was struggling to hold on to her patience, but then she wouldn’t. She asked Jade, “You’ve suppressed your fertility in the past?”

Jade gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

Malachite tilted her head. “With other consorts?”

“No!” Jade bared her fangs briefly. “Moon is the only consort I’ve ever been with.” After a moment, she explained, “The Fell attacked our old colony. I couldn’t risk a clutch.”

Malachite sighed, though the tension in her body didn’t ease. She said pointedly, “We can’t get clutches at will, even at your age. And suppressing your fertility your first time with the consort you plan to breed with can delay conception later. Especially if the court is under stress.”

Jade frowned, but her spines gradually relaxed. “But it’s been three changes of the month.”

Stone buried his face in his hands and growled.

Malachite said, “The line-grandfather is right. Three changes of the month is not a long time. Especially under these circumstances.”

“Oh.” Jade looked at Moon. He looked at her. She said, “Next time, ask me if you think you’re infertile.”

“All right,” he agreed. “Next time, ask Pearl how long it takes to get a clutch.” She hissed at him.

Stone cut to the point. He asked Malachite, “So? Can we have him?”

She stood. She said, “I’ll consider it,” and walked toward the stern, collecting Celadon on the way.

Jade let her breath out in a long sigh. Watching Malachite’s back, she said in a low voice, “That’s an improvement.”

With a hiss of relief, Stone said, “Just both of you stay out of it now. Give her time, and wait till she makes the first move before you talk about it.”

“Oh, you’re going to help, now?” Jade asked him, lifting her brows. “I noticed you being conspicuously silent before.”

Stone gave her a dark look. “If you think me sticking a claw in would have helped, you’re wrong. Since you got here, it’s been between you and her.” He jerked his head toward Moon. “And she’s just like him. In her head, that Fell attack on the eastern court happened yesterday. We’re lucky we’re getting out of this with so little trouble.”

Stone walked away. Moon and Jade regarded each other. Moon said, “Little trouble?”

“I suppose it could have been worse,” Jade admitted.

There were a couple of things Moon still wanted to get straight. He asked, “What about Ember?” If she said “Who?” like Stone had…

“I didn’t know they were bringing him.” Jade met his gaze directly. “I told you, he was Emerald Twilight’s idea of an apology. And I didn’t take him in your place. I don’t think I exchanged two words with him before we left. I was busy trying to keep the hunters from being eaten.” Her voice softened, and she added, “I tell you now, if I ever take a second consort, it will be with your approval.”

Moon immediately felt guilty. He didn’t want Jade to change to accommodate him, and he didn’t want to hurt Ember’s feelings. But this was something that should probably wait until they got back to Indigo Cloud. He said, “It should be someone older, and not as pretty as me.”

Jade’s mouth quirked. “We’ll see.”

There was one thing more Moon needed to ask. “At Indigo Cloud, I saw Merry and Gold making a bracelet or something. It had little Aeriat figures. They acted… twitchy, like I wasn’t supposed to know about it.”

“Well, you weren’t. A consort is supposed to get a gift when his first clutch is conceived.”

“Oh.” Apparently Stone had been right all along: Moon was an idiot.

Jade added, “It takes a long time to make something like that, so I told them to go ahead.” She shrugged her spines in resignation. “I was hoping it would give me luck.”

He leaned against her and rubbed his cheek on her shoulder. “I don’t think we need luck. I think we just need… some time to relax.”

She glanced back to make sure Malachite was out of sight, then put an arm around his waist and pulled him against her side. “That would be wonderful.”

* * *

It took several days to reach Opal Night, though fortunately they were uneventful. As soon as they were certain the Fell weren’t following them, Stone went hunting with Floret and Saffron. They stopped the boat at a small lake at the edge of the foothills to butcher the carcasses and to change and refill the water stores and flush out the latrine, but ended up using the chance to bathe and rinse the blankets and their clothing as well.

It lost them most of the morning, but it was better for everyone, especially those still in healing sleep, to get rid of as much of the Fell stench as possible. Moon felt better about being able to hand Delin back a flying boat that though battered, didn’t stink and was reasonably clean. Malachite and Lithe were able to coax Shade to eat a little meat later that day, so maybe the lack of stench had helped him, too.

Moon was sitting with Shade on the railing near the bow, watching the ground go by, when Shade said, “I told Malachite what happened. The part about what the Fell made me do.”

Below, the fern-thorn forests of the lake country were gradually giving way to the high grasses of the plains. Moon said, “What did she say?”

“That it wasn’t my fault. That I did what I had to do to keep us alive.” Shade’s shoulders were still slumped. “She also said what you said, that I shouldn’t tell anybody else about it.”

Moon thought that over, about lies and protective concealment, and how it might fester for someone like Shade, as opposed to someone more used to it, like him. At the moment, Shade thought he was the only one who had had to do something repugnant to survive. Moon said, “I don’t think you should tell anyone. Unless you need to, to help them.” And he told Shade about how he had met the Fell in Saraseil, about how he had killed Liheas, the real story that he had told only to Jade, and not the abbreviated version he had told to others.

The wounded continued to heal under Lithe’s care, and two of Ivory’s warriors woke from the healing sleep and were able to move around a little. Root woke a day later, still too injured to sit up and having difficulty speaking, but able to indicate to Floret and Chime that he wanted a blow-by-blow account of everything he had missed.

When they crossed the plain between Aventera and the Reaches, Stone caught sight of a bladder-boat, but it didn’t try to approach. Everyone else ignored it, but Celadon and Moon leaned on the railing, speculating on what the Aventerans were doing now and secretly hoping the bladder-boat would come this way in a threatening manner so they could start a fight with it. After a time, Celadon said, “Thank you for trying to save Dare. I saw part of what happened. We had ended up in some sort of small passage, and there were slits in the outer wall we could see through, but they were too narrow to climb out of.”

Moon thought not being able to get outside at that moment had probably saved all their lives. And he didn’t want to talk about poor Dare. “How did you get out?”

“We went down through the city, trying to find a way out that was so far below the bladder-boats that they wouldn’t be able to shoot us. The Aventerans trapped us at one point but Delin got one of their weapons and started shooting it at them. After that, they backed off and we made it out through an opening down near the statue’s feet. The sac had already left by then, so I sent the warriors and Delin to tell the queens and I started after it. Malachite and the others caught up to me that night.” She rippled her spines, as if shaking off the angry memories. “Hopefully this will be the end of the Fell trying to make crossbreeds.”

“Hopefully,” Moon said.

She eyed him. “You don’t think so?”

“How many flights did this thing talk to? Some of them must have ignored it, but… there’s no telling how far the idea spread through the flights in the east.”

Celadon sighed. “Pessimism is one of your more annoying qualities.”

Moon wasn’t going to argue that. He added, “But at least that thing is dead and we don’t have to worry about it getting out and going on a rampage.”

“At least,” Celadon said pointedly. “I wish our ancestors had killed it when they had the chance.”

So did Moon. “They wanted to torture it more than they wanted to kill it.”

She shrugged her spines. “Sometimes it’s easy to remember that they were the Fell’s ancestors, too.”

* * *

Warrior scouts met them a day’s flight out from Opal Night, and some rode the rest of the way in on the flying boat, while others flew ahead to give the good news to the colony.

It was late afternoon when the boat glided over the ridge and into the shadow of the standing half of the split mountain-tree. The wind was a little high and gray clouds threatened rain in the distance, but Opal Night was more active than Moon had ever seen it before. The Arbora were out on the landing platform, climbing up the branches of the fallen half of the mountain-tree. There were so many warriors in the air, the boat could barely navigate through them.

As the boat drew closer, Moon spotted Delin, surrounded by the other members of his crew. They stood on the landing platform with some of the older Arbora, all waving wildly. Moon shifted to his winged form, leapt the railing, and glided down to land beside them.

Delin threw his arms wide in greeting. “You live! I am so pleased!”

Wanting to get this over with quickly, Moon said, “I’m glad you’re alive too. There’s a hole in the bottom of your boat.”

Chime landed behind him, and added, “And we used all your lamp oil. And all the fire packets for your shooting weapon got burned up.”

Delin smiled. “This will be a story worth hearing.”

* * *

That night, Jade and the warriors were offered one of Opal Night’s better guest bowers, next to the rooms where Delin and the Islanders had been staying.

Root was doing much better, but Song still spent most of her time asleep. They made pallets of furs and blankets for them on the floor, and Moon carried Song in himself. The wound across her throat was already white with scar tissue, though her skin was so bruised her chest and throat looked more green-black than dark bronze. She blinked and woke, startled, and clutched at his chest. An instant later she recognized him and relaxed, tucking her face into the crook of his arm. It made Moon’s heart flutter, and reminded him of how much he missed Frost, Thorn, Bitter and the other children.

Once everyone was settled, Jade told him, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, startled.

“You are going back to your bower,” Jade told him. “I don’t know if this is another one of Malachite’s tests for me, but if it is, I have no intention of failing it.” She bit him lightly on the neck. “Now go.”

Stone went with him, and when they reached the consorts’ hall, Moon found the young consorts of Malachite’s line, the ones descended from her long-dead sister queen, had moved back in. They were keeping Shade company in his bower, and watched Moon with wide-eyed curiosity and awe when he came to check on Shade. The fact that Shade was in the middle of the story of Moon ripping the underwater window open with Chime and Lithe’s help may have had something to do with that.

Moon found his temporary bower undisturbed, though Malachite had sent over some more clothes for him, which meant he was going to leave Opal Night with a lot more than he had arrived with. He was glad he had left the ivory disk that had belonged to his father behind in his pack. There had been too many chances to lose it on their adventures. He put it on now, looping the leather cord over his head.

Stone watched him do it but didn’t comment. As they settled down to sleep, he said, “It’ll be a relief to get home.”

Moon stretched out on the fur. “I hope nothing’s happened while we’ve been gone.”

Stone growled under his breath. “That’s what I said, too, coming back on that damn boat.”

“None of this was my fault,” Moon pointed out.

Stone made a noise eloquent of derision.

Moon woke sometime later, aware he hadn’t slept for very long. The air was filled with sound; the blended harmony of high and low notes, a chorus of voices. The Court of Opal Night was singing.

Moon slipped out of the furs, stepped around Stone, and went to the doorway.

The sound didn’t echo through the colony so much as fill all the available space like water poured into a bowl. He shouldn’t have been able to tell the source, but he could. It was coming from the colony’s central well.

He went down the corridor to the nearest opening, the one near the waterfall and the lake. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall in the shadows.

There was movement all through the well, the light from windows gleaming off scales or skin. All of Opal Night was gathered here, sitting on the terraced platforms or along the stones lining the water, clinging to the walls. Singing.

It was the first time the song didn’t sound frighteningly alien, didn’t seem like something foreign was trying to invade Moon’s mind. It sounded warm and welcoming and right. He could distinguish individual voices in the chorus, in a way he never had before at Indigo Cloud. He could hear Celadon, and Onyx, Umber. There was Shade, not far above Moon’s head, sitting in the window of his bower, the other consorts around him. He could tell which voices were Arbora, and pick out Feather and Lithe. And Malachite’s voice was woven all through the others, like a pillar supporting the rest of the colony.

Moon leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, and thought, All right, I get it now. And then he joined in.

* * *

They spent nearly a month at Opal Night.

It was a busy time, since Malachite wanted Moon to meet all the other members of his line that he was closely related to, which amounted to something close to three hundred Aeriat and Arbora. The delay also gave Auburn time to fulfill Chime’s request for a search of the Opal Night mentors’ libraries for any past stories of Arbora who had transformed into warriors.

When Moon asked Chime about it one night, Chime said, “There was only one story about it happening to a mentor, and that was nearly a hundred turns ago as far as Auburn could tell.” Chime sighed.

“And?” Moon prompted. Chime’s depressed expression was beginning to worry him.

“It didn’t go into a lot of detail, but it said her healing skills and ability to make heat and light never came back.”

“Oh.” Moon hadn’t realized that Chime had still been holding onto that hope. “But did it say anything about hearing things?”

Chime turned his teacup around. “It said that she got ‘older skills’ and her auguries were different, but ‘often useful.’”

“It sounds like they didn’t want to give much detail.” That wasn’t encouraging.

“Exactly. I think ‘older skills’ mean things that our Ancestors could do.” Chime shrugged uneasily. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t think I like our Ancestors much anymore.”

“You’re still you,” Moon pointed out. “And your older skills keep helping us stay alive.”

“However I got them.” Chime waved those words away. “I mean, I know I can still be useful, and I’m glad about that. I just wish I had more control over it. Though at least now I know I’m not some weird aberration, that this has happened before.” Chime didn’t look entirely cheered by that thought, but he did seem less worried.

They finally left for Indigo Cloud, and had a thankfully uneventful trip through the suspended forest. Days ago, Jade had sent a message through Opal Night’s allied courts, telling Pearl that they would be returning as soon as negotiations for Moon were completed. They had received a message back that all was well at Indigo Cloud, but it was still a relief to approach the colony tree on the repaired flying boat and see the platforms were all intact, the Arbora moving through the gardens and the warriors circling the clearing.

A dozen warriors landed on the boat to greet them, and Moon saw a couple members of the Islander crew exchange grins. He knew how they felt; he didn’t think he would ever get over the thrill of seeing a large group of Raksura in flight at once, either.

One of the young female warriors who had landed on the deck came to Jade, shifted to groundling, and said, “Jade, I need to tell you something.”

Moon knew she was one of the warriors attached to Jade’s faction and that her name was Serene, but he hadn’t spoken to her much. She looked worried, and he immediately noticed that Sand and some of Jade’s other warriors, while they greeted Balm, Chime, and Floret and the others, were clearly keeping an eye on Serene.

Jade took Serene’s arm and led her away a short distance to the far side of the boat. She didn’t object when Moon followed.

Serene lowered her voice to a whisper, “Pearl took Ember.” She winced in anticipation of Jade’s reaction.

“What?” Moon said. He stared at Jade.

Jade didn’t even seem surprised. “That’s all right; I expected it,” she assured Serene. “Everything’s fine. Tell the others.”

Serene let out her breath in relief and smiled. “Oh, good. We’ve been so worried, and no one wanted to tell you. We drew lots for it and I lost.” She shifted to her winged form and bounced over to the other warriors.

Jade seemed genuinely unconcerned. She told Moon, “If I hadn’t wanted it to happen, I would have brought him with me.”

“But… He’s a kid.”

“If he was still a child, Emerald Twilight wouldn’t have sent him.” At his expression, she said, “He’s sweet, and biddable, and comes from a prestigious bloodline. He’s exactly what she likes. It’s been turns and turns since Rain died, and when you showed up was the first time she’d expressed interest in another consort.”

“Expressed interest? Is that what you call it?”

“This is a good thing,” Jade told him. “Now Pearl will pay more attention to the colony. And mind her own business, instead of mine.”

Moon thought that was optimistic. And he also thought he would reserve judgment until he talked to Ember.

* * *

He didn’t see Ember until later that night.

The first thing Moon did was visit the nurseries. It was a relief that this homecoming was a good deal less fraught than the last one. Frost had taken this absence much better, apparently solely due to Jade’s explanation that she had to fight a rival over him. Once the hysterical joy of the fledglings and Arbora children had settled down a little, Moon sat with Bitter and Thorn in his lap and told a rapt Frost and the others the story of how Jade had fought other queens and Fell rulers and a progenitor for him, until his mother had finally agreed to allow her to formally take Moon as her consort.

“There are fledglings at Opal Night?” Frost asked when the story was done. “Consorts?” Thorn nudged her, and she added, “And queens?”

“Lots of them.” Moon could already see where this was going. “And when it’s time, if you’re good, you might meet some of them.”

There was a gathering in the greeting hall and an ongoing celebration through the colony, for their safe return and also for the alliance with Opal Night. Blossom told Moon that there had already been a couple of trading visits from courts who had previously ignored their overtures, so word was spreading through the Reaches and Indigo Cloud’s status was rising rapidly.

For Moon the celebrations mostly involved a lot of food and telling the story of what had happened over and over again for everyone who had been too far away to hear details the first few times. Moon was hoarse from answering questions about Opal Night, and about the underwater city. He left a group of mentors and other Arbora endlessly speculating on the creature’s origins and how the city might have been constructed, and looked for Ember.

As far as he could tell, Jade and Pearl hadn’t discussed the situation, and he had to admit that Pearl seemed more at ease and to be enjoying the party in a relaxed way he hadn’t seen her demonstrate before. River was still present in her group of warriors, though Moon had noticed that he spent most of his time sitting next to Drift and trying not to appear depressed. Moon felt a little sympathetic, but only a little. He thought this would be better for River in the long run than continuing to take the place of a consort. But he bet River didn’t think so.

He found Ember on one of the bigger balconies above the greeting hall, watching the celebration with some of Pearl’s warriors. Vine was one of them, though River and Drift weren’t there. Moon ignored them, and asked Ember, “Can I talk to you?”

Vine immediately leapt off the balcony, and the other warriors scrambled to follow his lead.

Ember looked worried. “I don’t want to be first consort,” he said immediately. “I don’t want to challenge you.”

Moon hadn’t even known that was an option, but he wasn’t concerned. “Not about that.” He sat down on the smooth wood of the floor. Below in the gathering hall, warriors and Arbora were still sitting around in groups, finishing off the last of the food. Jade, Balm, Chime, and Stone sat with Delin and some of his crew near the waterfall. Delin was writing furiously in his book, and Jade was explaining something that required her to wave her arms a lot and had made Balm and Chime almost fall over laughing. Stone looked unimpressed, so Moon assumed it was something about past exploits of certain line-grandfathers.

He looked up to see Ember watching him warily. He seemed less nervous and underfed, though to Moon he still looked barely older than Thorn. “Are you all right? I mean, Pearl didn’t…” Ember was now staring at him as if he had no idea what Moon was talking about. That was probably a good sign. “. . . trick you into this? Into accepting her?”

“Because she’s older? Oh, no.” Ember shook his head. “Young queens always frightened me a little. But Pearl is strong and beautiful, like them, but she’s so calm, too. And patient with me.” He smiled at Moon. “I’m happy.”

Pearl? Calm and patient? Moon thought, but managed to keep his expression neutral. Maybe it was just him that annoyed Pearl so much. “All right, then. That was what I wanted to ask.”

Moon started to get up and Ember said, “Wait. I wanted…” and halted in confusion. Moon sat down again, and Ember took a deep breath. “Even after being here for a while, I don’t feel like I know the court very well. While you were gone, everyone was very unsettled and upset, and then Jade was hurt, and the line-grandfather came back with the groundlings, and Jade left with him and the others and… I don’t think the line-grandfather likes me.”

“He doesn’t like anybody at first,” Moon said. He wasn’t sure what Ember was asking. “What do you want to know?”

“I guess I want to know…” Ember seemed to gather his courage. “What was it like when you first came here?”

Moon shook his head a little. In some ways it had been a lifetime, and in some ways he felt as if he had just arrived. And it was going to take some preliminary explanation about groundlings and what Moon’s life had been like before he knew he was a Raksura.

“It’s a long story,” he said, hoping Ember would change his mind. Instead, Ember wrapped his arms around his knees and settled back against the wall like a fledgling ready to be told a go-to-sleep story. It was hard to resist. And it occurred to Moon that for the first time in his life, he could tell the whole story.

“About forty turns ago there was a colony in the east, and a warrior named Swift, who had to change her name to Sorrow…”

Appendix I

The Court of Indigo Cloud

Aeriat

Queens

Pearl—Reigning Queen.

Jade—Sister Queen.

Amber—former Sister Queen of Pearl, now dead.

Azure—the queen who took Stone, now dead.

Frost—a fledgling queen of the court of Sky Copper, now adopted by Indigo Cloud.

Indigo—the Reigning Queen who originally led the court away from the Reaches to the east.

Solace—a Sister Queen in an earlier generation of the court, who was the first to visit the Golden Isles.

Consorts

Stone—line-grandfather.

Rain—Pearl’s last consort, now dead.

Moon—Jade’s consort.

Thorn and Bitter—fledgling consorts of Sky Copper, now adopted by Indigo Cloud.

Cloud—the consort Indigo stole from Emerald Twilight.

Sable—Solace’s consort.

Dust and Burn—young consorts given away by Pearl when Rain died. Dust became the second consort to the reigning queen of Wind Sun.

Warriors

River—leader of Pearl’s faction of warriors. A product of one of Amber’s royal clutches.

Drift—River’s clutchmate.

Branch—River and Drift’s clutchmate, killed in a Fell ambush.

Root—young warrior from an Arbora clutch; a member of Jade’s faction.

Song—young female warrior; a member of Jade’s faction.

Spring—fledgling female, one of only two survivors from Amber’s last clutch of warriors.

Snow—fledgling male, Spring’s clutchmate.

Balm—female warrior, and Jade’s clutchmate. Jade’s strongest supporter and leader of her faction.

Chime—former Arbora mentor, now a warrior; a member of Jade’s faction.

Vine and Coil—male warriors of Pearl’s faction, though they chafe under River’s rule.

Floret—female warrior of Pearl’s faction.

Sand—a young male warrior of Jade’s faction.

Band and Fair—young male warriors of Pearl’s faction.

Sage—an older male warrior of Pearl’s faction.

Serene—a young female warrior of Jade’s faction.

Briar and Aura—young female warriors, inclining to Jade’s faction, but currently unattached.

Arbora

Mentors

Flower—leader of the Mentors’ Caste.

Heart—young female mentor, one of the Arbora rescued from the Dwei Hive by Moon.

Merit—young male mentor, rescued with Heart.

Copper—a young male mentor, still in the nurseries.

Thistle—a young female mentor.

Teachers

Petal—former leader of the Teachers’ Caste, killed in the Fell attack on the old Indigo Cloud colony.

Bell—new leader of the Teachers’ Caste, and clutchmate to Chime.

Blossom—an older female, one of only two teachers to escape during the Fell attack on the colony. Later learned to pilot a Golden Isles Wind-ship.

Bead—a young female, she escaped the colony with Blossom.

Rill, Bark, and Weave—female teachers.

Gift, Needle, and Dream—young female teachers, rescued from the Dwei Hive by Moon.

Snap—young male teacher, also rescued from the Dwei Hive.

Dash—a very old male teacher.

Gold—an older female teacher, and the best artisan in the court.

Merry—a younger male teacher, and Gold’s student.

Hunters

Bone—leader of the Hunters’ Caste.

Braid, Salt, Spice, Knife—young male hunters.

Bramble, Blaze, Plum—young female hunters.

Wake—an older female hunter.

Strike—a very young hunter, male, who volunteered to test the Fell poison.

Soldiers

Knell—leader of Soldiers’ Caste, and clutchmate to Chime.

Grain—the first Arbora to speak to Moon and to order him to leave Indigo Cloud.

Shell—Grain’s clutchmate, killed in the Fell attack on the colony.

The Court of Emerald Twilight

Aeriat

Queens

Ice—reigning queen of Emerald Twilight.

Tempest—senior sister queen, Ash’s birthqueen.

Ash—youngest daughter queen.

Halcyon—another sister queen, Tempest’s clutchmate.

Consorts

Shadow—first consort to Ice.

Fade—second consort to Tempest, now dead.

Ember—consort sent to Indigo Cloud, from Tempest and Fade’s only clutch.

Warriors

Willow—a female Warrior who greets visitors at Emerald Twilight.

Torrent—female warrior, from a queen’s clutch with Tempest and Halcyon.

Beacon, Prize—female warriors of Tempest’s faction.

Dart, Streak, Gust—male warriors of Tempest’s faction.

The Court of Opal Night

Aeriat

Queens

Malachite—reigning queen of Opal Night.

Onyx—sister queen.

Celadon—daughter queen, of Malachite’s line.

Ivory—another daughter queen, of Onyx’s line.

Consorts

Dusk—first consort to Malachite, killed after the attack on the eastern colony.

Umber—first consort to Onyx.

Shade—young consort, son of Malachite’s consort Night.

Warriors

Rise—female warrior of Opal Night, of Malachite’s faction.

Saffron—female warrior, clutchmate of Ivory.

Sorrow—female warrior who took care of Moon as a fledgling, killed by Tath.

Horn, Tribute—male warriors of Ivory’s faction.

Gallant, Fleet—female warriors of Ivory’s faction.

Dare, Rime—male warriors of Celadon’s faction.

Arbora

Mentors

Lithe—female mentor, young but powerful.

Tear—older female mentor, now dead.

Reed—young female mentor

Auburn—an older male mentor.

Teachers

Feather—female teacher, survivor of the eastern colony.

Russet—female teacher, survivor of the eastern colony.

Twist, Yarrow—two male teachers killed in the eastern colony.

Luster—a male teacher.

Moss—a young male teacher.

Hunters

Fair—a female hunter killed in the eastern colony.

The Court of Veridian Sea

Amaranth—reigning queen.

Flint—her first consort.

The Court of Sunset Water

Zephyr—a sister queen, daughter of an Emerald Twilight consort, Shadow’s clutchmate, who was given to the reigning Sunset Water queen.

Appendix II

Excerpt from Observations of the Raksura:

Volume Thirty-Seven of A Natural History by

scholar-preeminent Delin-Evran-lindel

The Two Breeds of the Raksura

Arbora: Arbora have no wings but are agile climbers, and their scales appear in a variety of colors. They have long tails, sharp retractable claws, and manes of flexible spines and soft “frills,” characteristics that are common to all Raksura. They are expert artisans and are dexterous and creative in the arts they pursue for the court’s greater good. In their alternate form they are shorter than Aeriat Raksura and have stocky, powerful builds. Both male and female Arbora are fertile, and sometimes may have clutches that include warrior fledglings. This is attributed to queens and consorts blending their bloodlines with Arbora over many generations.

The four castes of the Arbora are:

Teachers—They supervise the nurseries and train the young of the court. They are also the primary artisans of the court, and tend the gardens that will be seen around any Raksuran colony.

Hunters—They take primary responsibility for providing food for the court. This includes hunting for game, and gathering wild plants.

Soldiers—They “guard the ground” and protect the colony and the surrounding area.

Mentors—They are Arbora born with arcane powers, who have skill in healing and augury. They also act as historians and record-keepers for the court, and usually advise the queens.

Aeriat: The winged Raksura. Like the Arbora, they have long tails, sharp retractable claws, and manes of flexible spines and soft frills.

Warriors—They act as scouts and guardians, and defend the colony from threats from the air, such as the Fell. Warriors are sterile and cannot breed, though they appear as male and female forms. Their scales are in any number of bright colors. Female warriors are usually somewhat stronger than male warriors. In their alternate form, they are always tall and slender. They are not as long-lived generally as queens, consorts, and Arbora.

Consorts—Consorts are fertile males, and their scales are always black, though there may be a tint or “undersheen” of gold, bronze, or blood red. At maturity they are stronger than warriors, and may be the longest lived of any Raksura. They are also the fastest and most powerful flyers, and this ability increases as they grow older. There is some evidence to suggest that consorts of great age may grow as large or larger than the major kethel of the Fell.

Queens—Queens are fertile females, and are the most powerful and deadly fighters of all the Aeriat. Their scales have two brilliant colors, the second in a pattern over the first. The queens’ alternate form resembles an Arbora, with no wings, but retaining the tail, and an abbreviated mane of spines and the softer frills. Queens mate with consorts to produce royal clutches, composed of queens, consorts, and warriors.

Appendix III

Excerpt from

Additions to the List of Predatory Species

by scholar-eminent-posthumous Venar-Inram-Alil.

Fell are migratory and prey on other intelligent species.

The Known Classes of Fell

Major kethel - The largest of the Fell, sometimes called harbingers, major kethel are often the first sign that a Fell flight is approaching. Their scales are black, like that of all the Fell, and they have an array of horns around their heads. They have a low level of intelligence and are believed to be always under the control of the rulers.

Minor dakti - The dakti are small, with armor plates on the back and shoulders, and webbed wings. They are somewhat cunning, but not much more intelligent than kethel, and fight in large swarms.

Rulers - Rulers are intelligent creatures that are believed to have some arcane powers of entrancement over other species. Rulers related by blood are also believed to share memories and experiences through some mental bond. They have complete control of the lesser Fell in their flights, and at times can speak through dakti and see through their eyes. (Addendum by scholar-preeminent Delin-Evran-lindel: Fell rulers in their winged form bear an unfortunate and superficial resemblance to Raksuran Consorts.)

There is believed to be a fourth class, or possibly a female variant of the Rulers, called the Progenitors.

Common lore holds that if a Fell ruler is killed, its head must be removed and stored in a cask of salt or yellow mud and buried on land in order to prevent drawing other Fell rulers to the site of its death. It is possible that only removing the head from the corpse may be enough to prevent this, but burying it is held to be the safest course.

Appendix IV

Excerpts From Some Few Known Peoples of the Three Worlds: A Traveler’s Warning and Guide

This guide does not include known predatory species.

Cordans are believed to be all that is left of the once great empire centered at Kiaspur. They are short and stocky, with pale gray-green skin and greenish hair. Kiaspur had close attachments with a sealing kingdom in the distant past, and this is shown by the small patches of scales on Cordan skin. They are primarily farmers, and seem open to traders and travelers, but this can be deceptive.

Duazi are nomads who inhabit the moss forests of the far east. Not much is known about them, except that they are believed by some to be highly skilled in plant potions and simples, and are perhaps not safe to approach.

Dwei are not groundlings, yet not skylings. They are large and beetle-like in shape, with hard carapaces, and insect-like wings. They build hives on cliff sides from the secretions of their own bodies, usually in plains or desert country. They farm fungi in their hives and tunnels.

Emara are the dominant people of the old empire of Emriat-terrene. They have light blue skin and a hard bony ring around their skulls, topped by an uneven pearl-like surface. They are noted city-builders, and engage in a great deal of trade and commerce.

Freian are believed to be descended from a waterling species near the coast of Emriat-terrene, though they have lost their ability to breathe underwater. They are short in stature, and their skin is gray-green and scaled, and they have a bony vestigial head crest. They are artisans and workers among the coastal cities of the western freshwater sea.

Golden Islanders inhabit the flying islands of the Yellow Sea. They are short, slim people, with smooth white hair worn long and golden skin and golden eyes. They are traders and scholars, often deliberately seeking contact with new races and species, and are always safe to approach.

Hassi are eastern jungle dwellers who build complex cities atop the giant link-trees.

Iskanieri are nomads of the eastern jungles.

Karamed live near the coasts of the western freshwater sea, and are believed to be related to elements of the eastern Kishan Empire. They are tall in stature, usually slim, with dark brown skin and black hair, and are generally nomadic traders in the near west and city-builders in the far west.

Kinet inhabit the mountain ranges to the west of Abascene. They are tall and often strongly built, with smooth brown skin which is said to be thick and tough to protect against the cold and wind. Their hair is usually dark brown and curling and worn loose, and they have white or yellowish tusks to either side of the nose. Their principal city is Keres-gedin, also called The Turning City. They are miners, traders, and builders of tools and machines much prized by the Kish in particular.

Kek mainly live in the forests of the forbidden western reaches, but there are also said to be coastal Kek and desert Kek. They have stick-like limbs, with a fine dusting of fur, often green, and their bodies are narrow and flat. They have round eyes and a round mouth, a narrow nose, on a square-shaped head. They trade in plants and grasses, eat no meat, and are usually safe to approach, though their language is complex and difficult to learn.

Mirani frequent the deep east of the Abascene and the Crescent Coast. They are farmers and herders, with light green skin and light-colored hair. They can be insular, though are usually amiable to traders.

Riverians are travelers and explorers along the Crescent Coast, though their home land is not well known. They have white silky fur and bony head crests, and often engage in trade.

Sericans are nomadic traders who travel in large wooden caravan wagons, through both the plains and mountains of the far and near east, and throughout the lands of Imperial Kish. Their land of origin is unknown, at least to outsiders. They have dark blue skin and straight black hair, and are always safe to approach.

Sipar are the denizens of a far west empire, and are often found some distance from their land of origin. They are tall and slim, and have very pale skin tinged with gray, and black or silver-gray hair. Their heads, limbs, and torsos are long in proportion to their height, and they have high foreheads and elongated features. They are known for their trading networks, and are also builders of gadgets and machines. They are usually safe to approach as individuals or small groups, but their complex systems of government can make travelers to their cities uneasy.

Telethi are nomadic, living primarily on boats and large trading ships, and are found in coastal regions all through the southwest. They are tall and strongly built, with dark gold skin and hair.

Verineish are sealings, living only in saltwater seas. They have green scaled skin and dark green hair of a texture and thickness that resembles water plants. Their hands and feet are webbed and clawed, and they have sharply pointed fins along their arms and legs. They are insular and hard to approach, but not counted as dangerous.

Water Travelers are waterlings, and very dangerous to approach. Though they often engage in coastal trade, they are carrion eaters and are believed by some to feed on unwary groundlings, if the opportunity presents itself. The main body of a Water Traveler appears to be a groundling from the waist up. Below, a root-like mass floats on the water with tentacles and a mouth beneath the surface. Gray horn structures stand up above the water, surrounding and protecting the surface body, growing out of its arms, back, chest, and vestigial legs. Their skin is gray and studded with hard chips of horn-like growths.

About the Author

Martha Wells was born in 1964 in Fort Worth, Texas, and graduated from Texas A&M University with a B.A. in Anthropology. She is the author of fourteen SF/F novels, including The Element of Fire, City of Bones, Wheel of the Infinite, The Wizard Hunters, and the Nebula-nominated The Death of the Necromancer. Forthcoming novels include a YA fantasy, Emilie and the Hollow World, due out in April of 2013, and a second YA fantasy and a Star Wars novel due out in 2014. She has had short stories in Black Gate, Lone Star Stories, Realms of Fantasy, and the anthologies Elemental, Tales of the Emerald Serpent, and The Other Half of the Sky, and essays in the nonfiction anthologies Farscape Forever, Mapping the World of Harry Potter, and Chicks Unravel Time. She also has two Stargate Atlantis media-tie-in novels: Reliquary and Entanglement. Her books have been published in seven languages. She lives in College Station, Texas, with her husband. Her web site is www.marthawells.com.

Content

The Siren Depths
Volume Three of the Books of the Raksura
Martha Wells

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Appendix I

Appendix II

Appendix III

Appendix IV

About the Author