by Martha Wells
“Quiet!” Delin hushed her hurriedly. “It’s me.”
She hesitated uncertainly, staring. “Grandfather?”
Delin waved an imperative hand. “These are my guests. Now go find your mother.”
The room just inside the balcony was Delin’s study. It was smaller than their rooms in the palace, and the cushions and hangings had faded from the sun. Books and unbound rolls of paper crammed the shelves, as well as trade pottery and carvings from far away in the Three Worlds. Moon recognized figured blackware from Kish, a delicately enameled vase from Cient, polished shells that might be from a sea kingdom. Delin’s entire family seemed to be here, the adults sitting on the floor mats to listen to Jade, and the adolescents and younger children hanging back in the doorways, watching curiously.
Jade sat in front of the balcony door, with Moon a little behind her. It still made him deeply uncomfortable that these people knew what he was; he knew it didn’t make sense, it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. It hadn’t bothered him with Delin, but then Delin was unusual for a groundling.
Jade explained their request plainly, leaving out only the fact that Pearl might be treating with the Fell. Moon couldn’t fault her for omitting it. He wasn’t sure how much Jade knew, past vague suspicions, and she seemed reluctant to believe even those. And after hearing it, the Islanders would have to be crazy to agree to this.
As it was, it was hard to tell what they thought of the proposal. Delin’s eldest daughter, Elen-danar, was the head of the family, an older woman who bore some resemblance to him in the quick intelligence in her golden eyes. She asked careful questions, and seemed hesitant but willing to listen. Niran, unsurprisingly, was obviously against it.
“You brought them here?” he said, too horrified to dissemble, when Delin led them into the room. The other adults had been obviously embarrassed by his reaction and anxious to make up for it, so Moon thought it might have done them more good than harm.
Elen-danar tapped her fingers on the clay floor, frowning in thought. “With so many aboard, there would be little room for food or water. We usually bring large stores so we don’t have to land in dangerous country.”
“You wouldn’t have to land,” Moon put in. He felt he had to say something before anyone decided to interpret his silence as guilt or deception. “The warriors could refill the water containers and bring food to the ships.”
“That would let the ships travel much faster,” one of the younger men said. “If we don’t have to stop at all—”
“We could supply you for the trip back as well,” Jade added.
“But what would the Gerent and the trade council say?” Niran said, exasperated. “They’ve already decided this is too dangerous.”
“We are not in the trade council. They don’t speak for us,” Delin said firmly. There was a murmur of agreement from a few of the others.
Still thoughtful, Elen-danar said, “I think you’ve told us all we need to know. We’ll have to discuss it among ourselves.”
Jade inclined her head, accepting the answer. “We will leave your islands tomorrow. If you decide in our favor, send someone to us in the morning.” She opened the fold of leather, spilling out seven of the large pearls. “If you decide against us, send someone to return these.”
As they flew back up to the palace towers, Moon saw activity on the platform docks directly below the structure. A small flying boat, lanterns hanging from its prow and stern, was coming in to dock. A dozen or so Islanders cast lines to haul it in. Occupied as the men were, Moon didn’t think they had been seen, but Jade’s colors did catch the light.
They both landed on the roof above the inner open court. Moon crouched, listening for a moment. The lamps in the court had been put out, though light shone from the doorways, and he heard Chime’s voice, and Song’s. He nodded to Jade, then leapt down onto the court below.
Jade landed beside him and folded her wings, shaking her frills back into place. “What do you think the chances are?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Moon shifted to groundling. “It was hard to tell.” He thought it depended on who had the most influence in the family, who marshaled the best arguments. Delin was obviously for them, Niran against, but it was impossible to tell about the others. “It could go either way.”
She folded her arms, twitching her spines in frustration. “Stone thinks it’s our only chance. Flower said he never wanted the court to move to this colony in the first place.”
Moon hesitated to ask, but Stone was such an enigma that he couldn’t pass up the chance. “Is that why he left the court for so long? He didn’t like the colony?”
Jade shook her head. “No, he left because his queen died. Her name was Azure. I don’t remember her. It was before I was born.” Her shoulders tensed, and he saw her claws flex against her scales. Not looking at him, she said abruptly, “I know you want to leave the court. I would ask you, that if you do... you would consider leaving me with a clutch.”
Moon went still. It should have been a terrible idea. But the first thing that flashed through his mind was to wonder if he could make it a condition that he keep one of the babies—or two. It would have to be two, to keep each other company. But he couldn’t raise them alone, and the moment of wild hope was abruptly over. He thought, Don’t be stupid. Even if it were possible, raising two fledglings outside a court would just brand them as solitaries, to live alone or try to beg their way into a colony.
No, it was impossible. His heart sank and he wondered if this was what Sorrow had felt, this need to have companionship so intense it made you willing to do anything. Almost anything. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.
But leaving a clutch behind to be raised in Indigo Cloud wasn’t a much better prospect. The court would eventually manage to negotiate for more consorts, and Moon’s clutch would become less important. If anything happened to Jade, the clutch would be left to Pearl’s mercy.
It clarified the situation completely, to realize that he didn’t want to father any children unless he could be there to kill anything that threatened them.
He could try to explain that to Jade, but after what had happened the last time he had refused a request for a baby... “I’ll think about it,” he finished, and knew he sounded guilty.
“No, you don’t have to answer—” Jade began, then abruptly cut herself off.
There was a new voice from inside. Listening hard, Moon realized it was Endell-liani. That’s not a coincidence. He whispered, “They saw us.”
Jade hissed in annoyance. “Let’s hope they saw us on the way back.” She caught his wrist and pulled him along, across the court and through the doorway.
All the others were there: Balm and Chime stood in the inner doorway with Endell-liani as if they had just stepped in, Song and Branch sat on the floor cushions, Root was in his Raksuran form, hanging from the ceiling. He saw them, dropped to the floor, and shifted back to groundling; he left huge gouges in the clay ceiling.
Endell-liani didn’t look startled to see them. She said, “I’m sorry to disturb you. The sentry on the docking platform thought he saw something in the air, and I wanted to make certain it was one of you.”
“Yes, we, ah, felt the urge to fly.” Jade smiled, careful not to show her teeth. “We’re newly mated.”
Moon didn’t have to fake looking flustered. He tugged his wrist free and went over to sit on a bench. Jade’s remark had been calculated to cut off any further request for explanation. With some groundling races the ploy wouldn’t have worked but, for the Islanders, it was evidently perfect. Endell-liani apologized again, already backing out of the room. Balm threw a startled look at Jade, and then followed Endell-liani out.
The others were quiet, and Moon realized they were staring at him. Chime craned his neck, making sure Endell-liani was out of earshot. Then he turned hopefully to Moon. “Did you really?”
Jade flared her spines, and Moon fled the room.
Moon climbed out a window and wen
t up to sit on the roof. He watched the clouds travel across the night sky and the endless motion of the sea. The wind was turning cool, and the reed roof didn’t hold the day’s heat. When he heard the others settling down to sleep, he gave in to impulse and climbed back down the wall to go inside.
They had put all the lamps out, but he could see only one sleeping body in the room off the court, in a nest made up of floor cushions. Moon heard the others, and thought it was Branch on guard in the passage to the dock platform, while everyone else was in the next room.
Chime sat up and said, “Here.”
Moon hesitated. Chime should be with the other warriors and Moon shouldn’t be encouraging him to separate himself like this. Then he thought, Forget it. He didn’t know where he was going when he left Indigo Cloud and he wasn’t going to give up even one night of comfort and company. He shifted to groundling as Chime moved over.
As Moon stretched out on the cushions, Chime whispered, “Sorry about earlier. I realize I shouldn’t have said that.”
Moon settled on his side, wriggling to find a spot for his hipbone. “It’s all right.”
“I just... We’ve all been hoping—”
Moon set his jaw, exasperated. “You don’t have to hope. Once the court moves you can get a consort from Star Aster.”
Chime whispered harshly, “I don’t want a stuck-up consort from Star Aster acting as if he’s condescending to do us a huge favor. I want you.”
Moon rolled over and sat up. He leaned over Chime and hissed, “You’re not going to get me.”
Chime hadn’t been raised to be a warrior and didn’t give way as easily as Root and Branch. He shrank back a little in token submission, but immediately demanded, “Why not?”
With an annoyed growl, Moon gave up and lay back down. The others might not be able to hear what they were talking about, but everyone might wonder why they were snarling at each other. “Stone never thought this would work. He just needed a consort so the others would agree to move the court. You and Flower know that.”
Chime persisted, “We don’t know that, and you don’t know what Stone thinks. Nobody knows what Stone thinks.”
Moon gritted his teeth. “If you don’t be quiet, I’m going to bite you.”
He didn’t know if Chime believed him, but at least he stopped talking.
Chapter Nine
Moon woke to early dawn light and the cool air from the open door to the court. Chime, completely undeterred by their argument, was a warm presence against his back. Moon pushed himself up on one elbow and groaned under his breath. If Delin’s family decided against them, this was going to be an interesting day—interesting in the sense that he would like to just fly off and enjoy it in an entirely different part of the Three Worlds.
He could hear the others already stirring; Jade walked out into the main room first. She went to the doorway and glared out at the sky, already lightening to a clear blue. “It could have rained,” she said under her breath. “We’ve got no reason to stay here now.”
“It’s going to look suspicious.” Balm followed her and leaned in the doorway to look worriedly at the sky. She told the others, “The Gerent gave us a firm answer last night, and we’d already said we needed to return to the court as quickly as possible.”
She was right. The sky was almost cloudless. Everyone had eaten heavily yesterday, more than enough for the flight to the mainland; they should already be in the air. If the Islanders asked what they were waiting for, Moon didn’t know how Jade would explain it.
Root wandered over to the doorway and looked out uncertainly. “What do we do if they don’t come?”
“They’ll be here,” Jade said, turning away from the door. It was hard to tell if she was reassuring Root or herself.
Chime got the brazier lit in the main room and made tea. It gave them something to do, which helped a little, but Jade and Balm still stalked the empty rooms. The others were restive. Root kept climbing the walls and trying to hang off the door-frames, and Song and Branch bickered like bored children. After a while, Moon felt he had to do something with the younger warriors. Jade was so tense she hadn’t been able together spines down for half the morning. “Maybe I should take them fishing?” he said to Chime. He thought it was either that or kill them.
“You almost drowned yesterday,” Chime said, banging the iron kettle onto the holder. “You want to go out there again?”
“Yes.” Moon had been almost killed too many times to develop an aversion to anything. “I wasn’t planning to go fishing under the moss net.”
He looked up to find Jade standing over him, her frills stiff with exasperation. “If you would take them out of here for a while, I’d be grateful—”
Then Balm ducked through the doorway from the entrance hall. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered anxiously. “I think this is it.”
“Tell them to come in.” Jade turned to the younger warriors. “Go out to the court! Don’t make it look as if we’re waiting for something.”
Song, Branch, and Root scrambled to obey. Moon stayed where he was, sitting beside the brazier. After a moment of twitching uncertainly, Chime settled back down on his cushion. Jade shifted to Arbora, probably to get rid of most of her spines so they couldn’t flare out in agitation.
Then Balm walked in with Delin, Niran, and Endell-liani. Endell-liani inclined her head in greeting and said, “Forgive the intrusion, but Delin-Evran-lindel said that you were expecting him?”
Delin said, “We were invited for breakfast,” and winked at Moon. Niran flushed dark with mortification.
“What if they don’t come?” Root said. “What if they keep the pearls and cheat us?”
Moon, stretched out in the sun and trying to nap, hissed under his breath. They were at the metal ruin on the shore of the Yellow Sea, up on the top platform. They had arrived yesterday evening and stayed the night. It was now afternoon, another clear day with a bright sun and a good, cool wind off the water. With a dry edge to her voice, Jade told Root, “Then we go back home empty-handed and I look like a fool. Now be quiet.”
Delin had arranged to meet them here with three of his family’s wind-ships. The other Islanders might guess that the departure of the ships only a day after the Raksura had left had something to do with an arrangement to help move the court, but they wouldn’t be able to prove it. Delin seemed to think that was all that mattered. He had explained, “They may talk, but that’s all. We have always been explorers. We make the connections with other races that allow the trading guilds to open new markets and prosper, to let our scholars increase their knowledge. We go as we will and have never been under their direction.”
Moon hoped he was right.
At dawn this morning, Jade had sent Balm and Branch on ahead to the court, to let them know that the boats were coming. It was hard to believe that the entire court could make ready to move in just these few days, but Moon was willing to be surprised.
He had spent a lot of time last evening and this morning out scouting, going alone so he could stretch his wings and cover more distance. He had looked for signs that they had been followed by Fell or suspiciously low-flying cloud-walkers or anything else out of the ordinary, but he had found nothing. Just sea and dunes and salt marsh.
Some distance to the north, he did stumble on a small camp of groundlings who were following a narrow river inland. They had white silky fur that rippled in the wind, and bony crests like sea birds. They also had good eyesight; they spotted Moon at a higher altitude than most groundlings could have managed, and stared with interest and not much apparent fear, shielding their eyes against the sun. Moon supposed that if he had been Stone he would have taken the chance to stop and chat—but he wasn’t, and he didn’t.
He had returned to find Chime hunting among the tidal pools, and Song and Root playing in the surf. Jade sat on the beach, her blue and gray colors vivid against the golden sand. As he landed next to her, she asked, “Any sign?”
“Nothing.” He
shifted to groundling, feeling uneasy. The ruler who had taken control of the cloud-walker would have known they had reached the Islanders, but not what they had done there. If they were lucky, it hadn’t had a chance to pass on even that much information to the others. But Moon wasn’t willing to trust to luck. He said, “Fell don’t give up.”
“I know,” she said, absently drawing her claws through the sand. “They should be here looking for us. I’d worry less if they were.”
They had all eaten. Root and Song had played in the waves until they were half-drowned. Moon felt he knew every pace of the surrounding marshland. At this point, there wasn’t anything to do but sleep in the sun and wait. The metal of the platform was baking hot, and lying on it in groundling form felt like a luxury. Groundlings with skin unprotected by scales or fur shouldn’t be able to touch metal this hot without burns, so Moon had always been careful not to indulge in it in front of anyone.
“But what’s to stop them from keeping the pearls?” Root persisted. He was on watch, and he, at least, was wide awake.
Chime and Song, sprawled near Moon on the platform, both snarled in chorus. But with weary patience, Jade said, “Their people are traders. For them, baubles like that are a measure of trust.”
Baubles, Moon thought, grimly amused. There had been times when a few baubles would have made all the difference in the world.
At least it gave Root something to think about. He was quiet long enough that the sun lulled Moon to sleep again. The next time Root spoke, it was to say, “Something’s coming in from the sea.”
Moon rolled to his feet, almost shoulder to shoulder with Jade. In the distance, a shape danced on the horizon, but he couldn’t tell if it was on the surface of the water or flying above it. There was no distinctive scent in the wind, animal or otherwise.
“Wait here.” Moon shifted and jumped off the platform.
He had only made a third of the distance before he could see it wasn’t one shape but three: three long wind-ships, their fan-like sails spread, making their way towards the shore.