by Martha Wells
“We could drop it in the ocean.” Root looked up at Jade. “It’s not far from here, is it?”
Moon stared, then exchanged a look with Chime. Chime said, “That’s not a bad idea.”
“The ocean’s deep, right?” Root continued. He turned to Stone. “Deeper than the sea-mounts are tall. And there aren’t any sealings.”
Jade’s spines flicked thoughtfully. Stone stared absently into the distance, considering it. He said, “I’ve never heard of sealings going into the ocean, or any talk of anything out there that had any interest in shallow-sea dwellers or land-dwellers. Except to eat them.” He folded his arms, leaning back against the door. “It isn’t a bad idea.”
“We don’t even know what it is.” Delin sounded depressed. He made his way back to the bench and sat down heavily. “There were carvings in that room. I should have stopped to record them. Or we should have brought Vendoin, to copy any writing on the walls that we were unable to see.”
“There wasn’t time,” Bramble told him. “The waterlings destroyed the books that were in there. Those were probably important too. And all the other broken things in that room.”
Moon added, “It might not even work like it’s supposed to anymore.” But he was thinking of the freshwater sea and the bridle that had been used to control the leviathan there. It had still worked after all these turns, even though the magisters who had originally constructed it were long dead.
Jade flicked her spines in decision. “If we get out of here, if we get past the Fell, we’ll drop it in the ocean.” She glanced at Merit. “Merit can scry on it in the meantime. Maybe he can get some idea if that will work or not.”
Merit nodded, and he looked less alarmed at the prospect than he would have a turn or so ago. Merit had gained a great deal in confidence since Moon had known him. Jade turned to Delin. “From what you’ve said, I’m assuming you don’t intend to tell Callumkal.”
Delin’s frown deepened a little. “I feel it is something that should be hidden and left alone. My passion is to know and describe living species; the past draws my curiosity but it does not mean as much to me as it does to Callumkal and Kellimdar and Vendoin. And as much as I would like to understand its purpose, this object was not meant for us. If Merit is right, it is meant for people who are as dead and gone as those who built this city.”
Everyone twitched a little in relief. Bramble said, “We don’t tell Rorra? I mean, she’s a sealing, she might know things about the ocean, like where we should drop it.”
Jade dipped her spines in a negative. “I don’t want to ask her to choose between us and Callumkal. Besides, she’s known him a lot longer and she might choose him.”
Delin nodded once in grim agreement. Moon didn’t say anything. He had the uneasy feeling they were making a mistake. But he had no idea what the right course would be. Telling Callumkal seemed to be asking for trouble, and leaving the object here in the city for the Fell to find was too dangerous.
Still miserable, Briar said, “I’m sorry, Jade.”
Jade sighed, but stepped over to sit on her heels in front of Briar. “No one is blaming you,” Jade told her. “We were stuck with this thing as soon as we walked into that trap. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else.”
Moon caught the ironic expression in River’s eyes, as if he was thinking of the reaction if he had been the one to pick up the object. He was probably right.
Stone said, quietly, “Rorra’s coming.”
A moment later Moon heard her steps in the corridor. Stone slid the door open and Rorra looked inside. She had changed her clothes and her natural scent was overlaid by oil soap and something astringent, probably a healing salve. Her face was still hollow-cheeked with exhaustion. She frowned at them all, and said, “Is something wrong?”
“We’re just discussing the situation,” Jade said. “Is there any progress on the lock?”
Rorra’s frown turned annoyed. “They’re talking of blowing it up. I wanted to warn you.”
Moon, Chime, and Stone followed Rorra up to the bow, where they had a good view of the lock. “They know this canal goes all the way to an outer door?” Moon asked Rorra.
She jerked her chin toward the lock. “They explored using the levitation harnesses. Past this point, there’s a short passage, then a basin that looked to them like a port, and another door in what must be the outer wall, like the one we came through.”
Moon hoped they were right about it being the outer wall. Knowing the waterlings were out there somewhere in the dark made the shadows and empty spaces even more forbidding. It would be a relief to get out of here, even with their unwanted souvenir.
Below them on the pavement, a weary Magrim said, “The problem is that it isn’t locked in place, it’s just so old the gears have been eaten away and it’s too heavy to lift without them.” Several of the crew were gathered around the curved pillar that supported this half of the lock, the exposed bits of their dark skin stained green with mold. More Kish-Jandera were stationed nearby with their fire weapons, guarding the workers.
Callumkal stood on the pavement with Jade. He was telling Kellimdar, “I don’t want to bring the city down on top of us. Using this mixture in an enclosed space is—”
“But we have no choice,” Kellimdar said. He sounded weary and his blue skin had flushed dark in spots. “We can’t go back. There isn’t enough power left in the moss reserves.”
From this vantage point, Moon had a better chance to see the lock. In the glare of the distance-lights, it looked thick and heavy, an insurmountable barrier. Beside him, Chime said around a yawn, “If we’re going to be killed by the escarpment collapsing, I’m going back to sleep with the others.”
Jade had told the warriors to get more rest while they were waiting. If the waterlings attacked, somebody had to be in good enough shape to fight them. Jade needed more rest too, but Moon thought the few hours of sleep had helped.
“If we don’t get crushed, the Fell will be on us as soon as we get out,” Stone pointed out.
That rankled a bit. “We weren’t much help with that,” Moon said. Finding the way out of the city quickly hadn’t come to much, thanks to the trap. It would be nearing dawn outside.
“If the door opens at all,” Chime said. “If it has that coral growth on it, it might be stuck. And that’s if the mechanism is inside the rock like the other one, and not exposed to metal-eating mold like this.”
“You all are such a cheery bunch,” Rorra said.
Stone’s voice was dry. “That means so much, coming from you.”
“He only talks like that to people he likes,” Moon said. Rorra’s frown turned a little alarmed.
Below, some of the Kishan began to collect their tools and lights to carry back aboard. Others moved along the base of the pillar, placing something on it or next to it that Moon couldn’t quite see. One lifted up in a flying pack to attach something higher up on the pillar. In the light from the boat’s large lamps, it looked like the same stuff that came out of the bolts that the fire weapons used. Rorra pushed away from the railing. “We’re going to need to move backward. I should get up to the bridge to help.”
“Bridge?” Chime asked, watching her go.
“The steering cabin,” Moon translated. He wondered if they were going to shoot at the lock.
The Kishan continued their work, and Kalam came up the ramp carrying one of the moss containers. He asked Moon, “Are you well? When you collapsed, I was—We were all very worried.”
“I just needed to rest,” Moon said, conquering a surge of guilt. “Thanks for helping Balm and Merit save us.”
Kalam looked away, either uncomfortable with the praise or the situation or something. Possibly the smell; Moon knew he needed a bath and clean clothes very badly, but there hadn’t been time. He eased back a step. Kalam said, “It was . . . I just did . . . What anyone would do.” He seemed to realize he was still holding the moss container. “I need to put this up.” He hurried away down the deck.
Chime sighed heavily. “What?” Moon asked him.
Chime pointedly turned back toward the railing. Amused, Stone muttered, “Kids.”
“What?” Moon asked again. He had no idea what was going on. I’m starting to remember why I don’t like Raksura.
Jade, Callumkal, and Kellimdar walked up the ramp back onto the deck, and the other Kishan followed with the last of the equipment. “We’re nearly ready,” Callumkal said.
Stone stood up straight, his head tilted, listening. Moon froze with the other Raksura, but he couldn’t hear anything over the low noises of the boat. Stone said, “You need to hurry. The waterlings are moving.”
Kellimdar said, “Are you sure?” but Callumkal strode immediately for the hatchway.
“We need to move the ship back from the lock.” Callumkal called up to the Kishan on watch on the deck above, “Alcon, warn the fireguards!”
“Can you tell where they are?” Jade asked Stone. “Are they making for the canal?”
Stone, his expression distant as he listened, said, “Can’t tell exactly. They’re moving down out of the hall above us.”
If the waterlings got underneath the boat and attacked from there, it could be disaster. Moon told Chime, “Go warn the others.”
Chime bolted toward the hatch. Moon moved along the railing, staring into the shadows past the sunsailer’s lights, trying to spot movement.
The crew pulled up the ramp and slid a panel across the opening. The deck thrummed as the motivator started up again. Stone hissed, “I can’t hear them through that.”
It was possible to filter out some sounds, but the nearness of the stone walls concentrated the motivator’s sound, until the thrumming was vibrating in Moon’s bones, and in all the delicate structures of the ear that made distance hearing possible. Stone shifted, his dark scaled form blooming into being as some of the Kishan near the railing flinched away. Moon swayed as the boat jolted. A high-pitched noise joined the thrumming and the sunsailer started to move backwards up the canal, away from the lock.
The rest of the warriors spilled out onto the deck. Bramble and Merit peered out of the hatch behind them, then retreated back into the corridor when Jade twitched her spines pointedly. “Spread out along each side of the boat,” she told the warriors.
Kellimdar shouted from the upper deck, “Crew, get back from the railing! The creatures are in the water.” The Kishan still on the bow deck ran to the hatch, and others on the first and second decks scrambled to get up to the lights and weapon balconies.
Then Stone growled a warning and the first waterlings came over the side.
Stone tossed the first three off the boat and snapped a more persistent two in half. Fire-weapons struck the ones climbing the sides, then Moon’s focus narrowed to the two trying to get past him into the hatch.
He ducked snapping claws, wrenched waterling joints, and ripped open the upper part of a jaw that got far too close to his face. Another balanced on the railing and Moon slammed it off the boat. He landed back on the temporarily clear deck to hear, “They’re dropping from above!” It was Briar, yelling the warning from down the port side.
Stone leapt straight up. The deck rocked under Moon’s feet and one of the distance-lights swung up to follow Stone. He landed on the arch directly above the boat and swept off the clump of waterlings climbing along it.
A loud pop sounded from the lock pillars, echoing off the stone walls. Fire blossomed at the base of the pillar and shot upward. It struck the other patch of the explosive mixture and someone on the deck above yelled something in another language. Moon suspected it meant “Get down!” and he flung himself flat.
The blast blotted out his hearing and the wood and metal beneath him rocked with the disturbed water. Moon had been expecting a hail of hot metal shards, but there was nothing. Ears ringing, Moon shoved himself upright. He let his breath out in a hiss. Oh, no. The lights shone on the lock, still intact.
Then the pillar creaked and groaned, and the gears started to move. Slowly, the panel blocking the canal began to move upward. The Kishan hadn’t blown it up, they had just jolted it loose. Moon thought it was probably a better solution. Then a waterling threw itself over the bow and swarmed up the front of the cabin, heading for the Janderan operating the fire-weapon and light on the deck above.
It was Magrim, and he couldn’t swing the fire weapon down far enough to shoot the waterling. He stepped back, trying to draw a smaller handweapon from his belt. Moon leapt and hit the waterling’s torso from behind, dug his claws into the join where its head met its short neck. He caught a glimpse of Magrim’s startled expression as Moon threw his weight backward and yanked the creature off the railing.
The problem with that tactic was that Moon landed flat on his back, the waterling on top of him. To buy himself time to recover, he bit the waterling in the neck and felt its scales crack under his teeth. It shrieked, decided to run, and tore itself off him and dove for the railing.
Moon rolled to his feet and let it go as it appeared to be the only waterling with any sense; the others were flinging themselves at the sunsailer and being shot by Kishan or mauled by Raksura. The panel was still in motion, high enough now for the boat to pass under it. The deck thrummed again as the boat surged forward.
Three more waterlings came over the bow and Magrim’s fire-weapon killed one, wounded the second, and Moon dealt with the third. He danced around the deck, dodging claw snaps, until he could close with it. As he slung its body back into the water, he realized they were out of the canal and entering some larger space.
The sunsailer’s lights flashed around a cavern, as big as the entry harbor on the far side of the city. Moon caught glimpses of pillars stretching up, huge dark hallways leading away from platforms extending out over the dark water. But he couldn’t see the door. No, there it was, the outline of it incised into the far wall. But there was no platform alongside it, and no sign of the carvings or the mechanism to open it. Moon thought, we’re in trouble. He hoped the builders hadn’t removed it, that taking away the mechanism hadn’t been an attempt to defend the city from whatever had caused them to abandon it.
The sunsailer surged forward and the deck swayed underfoot from suddenly choppy water. Moon dealt with another waterling and looked for the outer door again, still wondering how they were supposed to open it. Above, near the steering cabin, someone shouted in horror. The big distance-light swung around and shone on the water in front of the door.
The dark water swirled violently, waves rocked the boat and crashed over the bow, spraying Moon with saltwater. He shook it out of his frills and backed toward the hatchway. The deck jerked underfoot and suddenly became a slope, as the pressure of the water dragged it sharply down and pulled the vessel forward toward the whirlpool. Moon dug his foot claws in to stay upright. The water was full of waterlings, the lights reflecting flashes of their bright blue scales, but they were all caught in the suddenly rushing current. The deepening whirlpool pulled them down toward the center. Just like the sunsailer.
We’re going to sink, Moon thought. They might have time to get at least some of the crew away. No, he had forgotten the flying packs. With those they might have a chance to get everyone to safety. Moon started to turn, to head up onto the deck above to find Jade and Callumkal. But then the big light on the port side of the sunsailer made a slow sweep across the walls. They were covered in waterlings.
The creatures fought their way out of the less violent current around the edge of the basin and streamed up the walls, clustered on the platforms, on the floor of the hall. More appeared on terraces and balconies in the upper part of the chamber, climbing up, still trying to get above the boat. Moon stared in sick dismay. The chamber was alive with the creatures. If the Raksura and groundlings left the boat, there was nowhere to go.
“Moon—” The shout was from overhead and Moon snapped out of his horrified contemplation of the large hole forming in the churning water ahead. Magrim was yelling and pointing.
“Close the hatch!”
Right, or we’ll die faster. Moon turned, climbed back up the steepening slope toward the hatchway. He snapped his claws through the strap holding the metal door open and slammed it shut. There was a lever on the outside and he gave it a turn, and felt a locking mechanism jolt inside. Water washed up from the bow and he leapt up, caught the wall over the hatch, and slung himself over the railing.
Magrim braced there, staring wide-eyed at the water. He said, “I meant go inside and close the hatch!”
“I know,” Moon told him. But there were still at least three Kishan out here at the fire-weapons and lights and he didn’t want any desperate waterlings to jump onto the boat at the last minute and eat them. Even if they were all about to drown. “Do you know what caused that?”
Magrim grimaced, still staring at the whirlpool. “It must have been the lock. When the gears blew, they must have been connected to some opening in the bottom of the basin.”
Probably, and it had obviously been an ill-considered decision, but as part of the group who had attracted the waterlings’ attention, Moon wasn’t going to point fingers. He said, “Just hold on. Maybe it’ll stop.” He didn’t think it was going to stop but there was no point right now in saying so.
He looked up toward the steering cabin, visible from this angle, and through the window saw Rorra, Kellimdar, and three other Kishan shouting, gesturing, and wrestling with something that was probably the steering mechanism. He realized the background roar was the sunsailer’s motivator, desperately fighting the current.
Moon went to the edge of the railing and looked back along the boat, but couldn’t see anyone out on the decks on this side, except the Janderi at the big fire-weapon post on the third deck. There was another Janderan on the far side, grimly keeping a big distance-light pointed toward the whirlpool. Moon hoped all the Raksura had gotten inside already. And that everyone was still alive.
A thump on the deck above made him flinch but it was only Stone, now in his groundling form. He jumped down next to Moon, and frowned at the whirlpool. “So that looks pretty bad.”