by Martha Wells
He sat down on the cushions by the hearth. There was already a kettle on the warming stones and he found a cake of tea in the bowl and crumbled a few pieces off into the pot.
Jade rose up out of the pool, water dripping from her frills. “Everything all right?” She was in her softer, wingless Arbora form, and it was good to see her relaxed.
“Yes, the groundlings took Delin, and all the warriors are back.”
Jade stepped out of the pool, took a cloth from the pile, and started to dry her scales. She said, “Well, this turned into another interesting day.”
That was all too true. Moon turned back to the hearth. “I can’t believe we might have to fight for this place again.”
Jade sat on the fur blanket across from him. Her expression ironic, she said, “You mean it’s not fair that we have to fight for this place again.”
“Hah.” Fairness was a concept taught to fledglings and babies so they would share their toys and food and not shred each other over trifles. It wasn’t something that applied to real life, at least in Moon’s experience.
Watching him, Jade said, “If I follow the groundlings to the city, will you go with me?”
Moon took the pot and swirled it absently, just to have something to do with his hands. He knew what a compliment it was that Jade trusted him enough, and trusted his abilities, to ask him to do something like this, so outside a normal consort’s experience.
Being physically born a consort didn’t convey any instinctive knowledge of how to be one, and Moon had struggled with it since coming to the court. This past turn, raising the Sky Copper fledglings and his own first clutch, it had seemed like he might have finally gotten past pretending to be a consort and started to edge into actually being one. Nobody had called him a feral solitary to his face in months. Now . . . He didn’t want to leave his clutch while they were still so young. But he didn’t want Jade to go off without him, either. And Chime would have to go too, as the only other one who had seen the inside of the forerunner city. He said, “I don’t know yet. I know what I want to do. I want to stay here.”
Jade’s expression was hard to read. “I sometimes wonder if you’ve been bored. You’re the one who’s traveled all your life.”
“Traveling is overrated,” Moon said. Being hungry, cold, wet, lonely, stalked by predators, and hunted by groundlings hadn’t exactly been a good time, though he had seen a lot of interesting things.
Jade said, “Sometimes I’m a little bored.” She settled her spines and looked away.
Moon wasn’t surprised, but he hadn’t expected her to admit it. Jade had had more than a taste of travel herself, before the court had finally started to settle down. Because it was easier to make a joke, he said, “Queens aren’t supposed to get bored.”
Jade tilted her head. “Consorts aren’t supposed to accidentally drown in bathing pools but I’m told it happens.”
Moon tugged on one of her frills. If she wanted to drown him, he had given her much worse provocation than that. “Everyone’s always telling me what I’m supposed to feel.”
“Yes, and we both agreed how annoying that was.” Jade absently turned her empty teacup upside down. She said, “I can’t make the decision whether to go or not until after I speak to the groundlings.” She smiled a little dryly. “Or that’s when I’ll tell everyone I’ve made the decision.”
At least the court wouldn’t just sit here and do nothing. That was worse than the alternatives. “Do you think Pearl will let you go?”
Jade let her breath out, considering. “I don’t know. She didn’t see that thing in the underwater forerunner city. I’m not sure she understands how bad this could be. But she had the dream too, and since we got here she’s always been willing to do what was needed to protect the court.” She flicked her claws through the fur mat. “I mean, she always was before, at the old colony. Now she’s just willing to include the rest of us in her decisions. And listen to us.” Her mouth twisted. “I don’t want to ruin that.”
If someone had told Moon, back when he had first arrived at Indigo Cloud, that Pearl would become someone whose good opinion he was actually concerned about keeping, he would have thought they were out of their minds. Now he didn’t want to ruin the tentative progress he had made, either. He said, “You can talk to Pearl after we see what the groundlings have to say. There’s no point in worrying about it now.”
Jade made a derisive noise. “Just because there’s no point in worrying has never stopped you from it before.”
That was true. Moon leaned into her side and she wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him closer. He said, “I thought of something we can do besides worrying.”
Jade nipped his ear. “I thought of that too.”
Afterward, Moon lay on the furs with Jade’s warm weight curled around him, her breathing deepening as she slid into sleep. It had been a long anxious day and the sex should have left him relaxed, but he couldn’t stop thinking, going over it all again until his head was about to split. Jade grumbled but didn’t wake as he eased out from under her. He pulled on his clothes again and left the bower.
He walked out to the edge of the queens’ hall to look down the central well. From what he could hear, the court was showing no signs of settling down the way it normally did at the end of the day. Every word that had been said during the conversation with Delin would have been repeated to everyone and would now be dissected by the Arbora, who would engage in increasingly fantastic speculation as the night wore on.
He turned back, shifted, and leapt up to the consorts’ level.
Moon scented an outdoor draft, cool and damp, and knew Stone was up here. There was no central consorts’ hall, but there were junctions between the bowers with hearth bowls set into the floor, meant as communal seating areas. The bowers in this section were just as finely decorated as the ones in the queens’ level below, but mostly untenanted. Eventually Thorn and Bitter, the consorts of the Sky Copper clutch, would leave the nurseries and move up here, and later Cloud and Rain, the consorts of Moon’s clutch. That would make the place livelier.
He found his way through the empty passages, to where a doorway in the outer trunk looked down on the garden platforms below. The door was open now, and Stone leaned in the opening, looking down.
Stone didn’t acknowledge Moon’s appearance, but Moon knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed. He wasn’t sure why he had sought Stone out, but found himself asking, “Would you go, if Pearl decides to let Jade follow the groundlings?”
Stone stepped away from the door, turning to face him. “I thought Jade already decided to go whether Pearl likes it or not.”
Moon bared his teeth briefly. “No, she didn’t decide that.” Maybe he had come up here to have an argument. “Answer the question.”
Stone’s brow furrowed, just a little, but with dangerous intent. Moon said, “Or we could have a fight. But I’ll still want you to answer the question.”
Stone eyed him, and then turned to the doorway and looked out again. The night insects were singing, in chorus and singly. They would reach a crescendo as the night wore on and then gradually subside. Moon was so used to it now he had to make himself notice it, though to a newcomer to the Reaches it would probably be a terrible din.
Stone said, “You think I’d stay here, and let Jade and a few warriors go to this place?”
It was a good way to make Moon feel bad for asking, which he was sure was intentional. He said, “I wouldn’t if this was last turn. But you’ve been gone so much.”
Stone turned with a grimace of exasperation. “I was bored.”
“Bored?” Moon stared. As a reason for Stone leaving the court, it seemed deeply inadequate. “I’m bored, Jade’s bored, and we stuck it out and stayed here doing what we’re supposed to do.”
“I’m not supposed to be doing anything,” Stone retorted. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m old.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” Moon countered. “We’d all be dead w
ithout you.”
Stone snapped, “And now you don’t need me.”
Moon pounced on that. “Hah, that’s it! You’re not bored, you’re just—Mad because you think we don’t appreciate you!”
Stone snarled, “That’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever said, and we both know how tough the competition is.”
Moon snarled back. It might have escalated even further, but from the passage, Ember said, “What are you arguing about?”
Moon glanced back. Pearl’s young consort stood in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, disheveled and beautiful and blinking like he had just woken up. Like Moon, Ember didn’t often spend the night in his own bower, but he might just have been napping. Moon snapped, “We’re arguing about—” He wasn’t sure anymore. The point of the argument had evolved dramatically.
Ember scratched a hand through his hair. “You’re arguing about whether Stone is bored or not?”
When you put it that way, it did sound stupid. He said, “Ember, why don’t you go see what Pearl is doing?”
“Just don’t hurt each other,” Ember grumbled, proving he did know exactly what the argument was about after all, and retreated back down the passage.
As Ember left, they stood there in silence. Moon said finally, “You know how the court feels about you. You’re—” These things were still horribly hard for him to say. He had spent most of his life watching every abortive attempt at a relationship fail. He knew how to start them and how to escape them, but he didn’t know anything about maintaining them. It was easier when the other person did all the work. And maybe he had taken Stone for granted. “I don’t want you to leave. Unless you’re leaving with Jade.”
Stone rubbed his face. “I am not leaving the court because I’m sulking over feeling unappreciated. That’s something one of our many idiot warriors would do, not something I would do.”
Moon shrugged. “Sure.”
Stone glared at him. “The court is settling down. I’m not ready to settle down yet.” He added, “And neither are you.”
“I’m not going, I’ve already decided.” Moon said it just to provoke Stone, but as soon as the words were out, he regretted it. He knew what a consort’s duty was in this situation: to stay with the court and his clutch. But that had never been his duty, and it had never been what was best for the court.
Stone stared at him, as if trying to see inside Moon’s skull. Stone finally said, “Because of the clutch? You think Blossom and the teachers won’t take care of them if you’re not here?”
Moon grimaced. Before he had become Jade’s consort, he remembered thinking that he would never want to father children in the court and then leave them, that they might suffer without him to protect them. Now, he knew that wouldn’t happen. That wasn’t how Raksura treated any offspring, especially royal Aeriat offspring. But in his head, leaving the clutch felt like abandoning them. As if leaving them in the protection of all of Indigo Cloud for a few months, in the safety of the colony tree, was the same as leaving them to fend for themselves in a forest forever. “Of course not.” He still didn’t want to die somewhere in the wilds of the Three Worlds and miss the important moments, like teaching the new clutch how to fly and hunt and fight, and the all-important task of making sure they ended up with the right mates, or at least the mates they actually wanted, whether they were right or not.
Then Stone said, “You think you can protect them if the Fell come here, if they’ve got help from some monstrosity imprisoned in a forerunner city, and this time it fulfills its part of the bargain?”
Moon snarled. “I know—I know that. I know it’s better to stop the Fell before they get anywhere near the Reaches—”
“If you know that, then why are you staying here?” Stone said. Then he turned and stepped out the doorway.
Moon let his breath out in a hiss. Now he knew why Stone was mad at him, at least. He went to the opening.
He heard one whoosh of big wings, and saw Stone’s shadow cut down toward the knothole and the court’s main entrance. He watched to make certain Stone was going in through the greeting hall entrance, then shoved the door shut and barred it.
The spot they had chosen for a meeting point was on the platform of a mountain-tree not far from where the flying ship was moored. It was a fairly large platform, with a pond and low mossy grass filled with the bright flicker of tiny flying lizards and the insects they fed on, and no heavy undergrowth or parasite trees that might provide cover for predators. The hunters used it occasionally as a resting spot during long trips. The dawn rain had ended and the green light filtering through the canopy was relatively bright; somewhere above the tree canopy, it was a clear day.
Moon and Stone accompanied Jade, who had also brought Chime, Balm, and Heart, as well as Root, Song, Floret, and Vine. Sage, with four other warriors, was positioned on an upper branch above them, in case anything went terribly wrong. They picked a patch of relatively clear ground near the pond, and the warriors took up positions around it. Root said, “Should we make a firepit? We didn’t bring any tea, I guess.”
“No.” Jade paced, flicking her spines in a preoccupied way. “This isn’t that kind of meeting.”
Song, who had taken a seat between Moon and Stone, leaned close to Moon and whispered, “We give Delin and the Golden Islanders tea when they visit.”
“They’re different,” Moon told her. “We know them.” Stone was doing the annoying thing where he was pretending they hadn’t had that conversation last night, so Moon was pretending too. He had the bad feeling he wasn’t as good at it as Stone.
Jade paced to where Heart sat near Balm. She asked, “Anything?”
“Not yet,” Heart told her. Sometimes mentors had visions at significant events, but it was rare.
The mentors had augured last night, but from what Moon had heard, nothing much had come of it. They usually had to be closer to the situation before they started to get genuinely useful visions. Merit was going to try while they were having this meeting, just to see if that influenced any answers. Hopefully the answers wouldn’t involve the Fell swarming the Reaches.
Jade nodded and paced away. Moon didn’t like to see her this edgy. But they were about to hear something that might make a huge difference to the fate of the court.
And their own fate. Moon shrugged uneasily, unconsciously settling his groundling form’s non-existent spines.
Floret, standing near the edge of the platform, reported, “They’re coming.”
The pointed bow of the flying boat came into view through the mountain-trees, moving with slow caution. The colors of it blended in well with the suspended forest; it made Moon wonder what it looked like in its native environment, if the groundlings who had constructed it used the moss for their homes and other buildings as well.
As the ship drew closer, Floret asked Jade, “Uh, do you want us to do anything or sit anywhere in particular?” She glanced at Moon. When formally greeting another Raksuran court, consorts sat behind queens, and everyone was introduced in a specific order. Violations of this etiquette when not forced by circumstance generally opened one up to mockery and disdain by other courts.
Jade tilted her spines in a negative. “Just stay where you are.”
The warriors looked at each other uncertainly, and Song crept back a discreet distance from Moon and Stone. Jade had told all the warriors except Chime to stay in their winged forms, though Moon, Heart, and Stone were in their groundling forms. Except for Stone, who didn’t make an effort for anybody, they had dressed like they would to greet another court, in their better clothes and jewelry. Moon was wearing pants and a shirt of a dark silky material, with a red patterned sash Rill had made for him, and his consort’s bracelet and the anklet that Jade had given him when the clutch was born. He should be wearing a lot more jewelry, but the groundlings wouldn’t know that. Well, Delin would, but he didn’t care.
Stone sighed. Jade glanced at him, brows lifted. “What?”
Stone said, “Nothing
, that was me breathing. Why don’t you sit down?”
Jade bared her teeth at him but at least moved to stand near Moon.
The ship drifted to a halt about a hundred paces away from the platform. Groundlings of different sizes moved on the deck, then four lifted off into the air. Moon could see one was Callumkal, and that another groundling carried Delin. Again, it made his skin itch watching it. He had carried plenty of Arbora and groundlings, but seeing someone who was not a natural flyer do it was nerve-racking. He said, “If that one drops Delin—”
“I’ll catch him,” Vine said, reassuringly confident. Spines signaling alert attention, he watched Delin and the groundling who carried him. “I’m sure I can get him before he hits the mist.”
The packs that held the spell or device that allowed the groundlings to fly were bulky affairs, constructed of a rough brown material and attached to their wearers with harnesses. It explained the harness that Callumkal had worn under his clothing. The groundlings must rely on the packs a great deal if they wore the harnesses all the time. Moon didn’t know why that bothered him. Did they lack confidence in their flying boat?
The groundlings reached the platform without anybody plunging to their death and landed at the edge. Moon saw Delin had actually been in a harness too, an extra one that attached to the side of the flying pack-wearer. That was something of a relief, but it still looked like a risky method. One of the groundlings stayed near the edge of the platform, while Delin and the other three came forward.
Callumkal was in the lead, and the groundling beside him was shorter and slighter but otherwise looked almost identical to him, with the same tightly curled hair and pebbly dark skin. His open jacket and pants were of the same rich materials in browns and golds. The third groundling was a different species, wide and muscular, and had silvery gray skin that was studded with round and oblong patches of a rougher hide that looked almost like craggy rock. These patches stretched up its long legs and arms, up to its neck and face. Its skull was covered with one large patch like a helmet. Moon couldn’t tell if the patches were part of the groundling’s body or were an armor that had somehow been attached directly to its skin. Though if it was, it seemed inefficient to leave bare patches in between. The groundling’s eyes were wide and silver gray, and its nose was just a faint indentation above its mouth. It wore a light tunic and kilt of a soft material that seemed very at odds with the partially armored hide, and had a bag slung over its shoulder.