by Martha Wells
He left it and the belt on top of Jade’s jewelry and added the blanket to their nest of bedding. Suddenly self-conscious, he looked around to make sure no one was watching him, especially Stone. Then he realized he hadn’t seen him since they arrived. “Where’s Stone?”
Flower, carefully unwrapping a cake of pressed tea, said, “He went up to look around the queens’ level. That was a while ago,” she added, frowning.
Chime dropped a last cushion onto a pile of bedding and glanced up, worried. “You think something’s wrong?”
“No, not wrong, just…” Flower hesitated. “This place was his home, a long time ago.”
She was right; this had to be strange for Stone. Moon put the lid back on the basket and said, “I’ll find him.”
He took the stairs up to the greeting hall, where the soldiers had spread their bedding out around a hearth basin near the fountain. Merit was still with them, looking small next to the bigger Arbora. Merit waved, but the soldiers just stared at Moon with wary curiosity.
He shifted and jumped to climb straight up the wall, finding plenty of handholds built into the carving, rough from where generations of Raksura had hooked their claws. He followed the spiral well up and up, climbing past open balconies and galleries.
Somewhere far below, he heard a voice raised in song that echoed up through the passages of the tree. Moon winced. Please, not tonight. He hoped they were too weary for a full chorus.
The court had sung once aboard the flying boats, one night when they had been passing over a grass plain. It had been a dirge for the dead members of the court, and for the colony ruined by the Fell. The mingled voices had been so low and deep, so heavy with pain and loss, the deck of the Valendera had trembled like a sounding board.
Moon had slipped away from Jade’s side, retreating to the deck cabin. The door was partly open, and he ducked his head inside. Light came from glowing moss stuffed into the glass candlelamps, and Niran sat on the bed, which folded out from one of the benches along the wall. He said, “You might as well come in. Everyone else does.”
Knowing Niran, Moon took that for the invitation it was. He stepped in and sat cross-legged on the deck. For a normal voyage, Niran would have quarters below deck, but all those rooms were stuffed with supplies and Arbora. The waist-high wooden pillar in the center of the cabin held the fragment of flying island that kept the boat aloft, and let it travel the streams of force that crossed the Three Worlds. There were also a couple of clay water jars, and baskets of supplies, one with a pottery bowl and cup stacked atop it. Niran had a few bundles of paper next to him on the blankets, and a wooden writing tablet in his lap. He said, dryly, “I’m keeping a record of our travels, for my grandfather. He would never forgive me if I didn’t.”
Moon settled his back against the wall to support his sore shoulder. “It’ll help him get over missing this trip.”
“Hopefully.” Niran nodded toward the door. “You don’t participate in the… concert?”
Moon hesitated, debating several different excuses, then settled for, “I don’t know how.” Not counting the court’s stupid rules and customs, everything else about being Raksuran he had either learned from Sorrow or figured out for himself. The singing was alien, and it made him deeply uneasy. In its own way, it was as disturbing as the queen’s connection to every member of her court, the connection that let her keep you from shifting, or draw you in and make you feel like you were sharing a heart. It was too much like the Fell’s power to influence and cloud the minds of groundlings. Jade hadn’t shown any evidence of that ability yet, but that might be because she wasn’t the reigning queen. Moon wasn’t looking forward to the time when she did.
Niran lifted his brows and made a note. “I forget sometimes that you have only recently joined them.”
Moon had wondered if anybody else would ever forget it. And you’re worse than all of them, he told himself now. He hadn’t even tried to sing, just run off to hide with the only available groundling.
Climbing the wall of the mountain-tree, he pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away. They were all here now, and it was time for new beginnings.
The greeting hall was far below him when the ceiling finally curved up to form a wide circular gallery. He climbed up onto it and found it opened into another hall.
A few wall-shells glowed, enough to chase away some of the shadows. More round doorways led off into other chambers, and there was a dry fountain against the wall, the basin below it empty and stained with moss at the bottom. The carving above it made him hiss in appreciation.
It was a queen, a queen bigger even than Stone’s shifted form, her outspread wings stretched across the walls to circle the entire hall, finally meeting tip to tip. Her carved scales glinted faintly in the dim light, and as Moon moved closer he saw they were set with polished sunstones.
High above her head there was another open gallery. The rooms off this level had to be the bowers and halls for the reigning queen and her sisters, and he was guessing that the level directly above was for the consorts.
The gallery was a little high, but Moon crouched and made the leap up, caught the ridged edge, and swung up onto the floor.
The open space was ringed with doorways into a series of interconnected rooms. Moon shifted back to groundling, and wandered through the empty spaces, finding bower beds, heating basins, and dry fountainpools, easily deep and wide enough for swimming. He found a couple of small stairways that led to the queens’ chambers just below, and then another one that seemed to wind down a long way, probably to join the main stairs in the central well. There was an opening to the outside somewhere, because the air moved with the rush of wind, damp and fresh. With the place cleaned and swept, with warming stones and running fountains, furs, and rich fabrics, it would be ridiculously comfortable. Moon couldn’t imagine being born into this kind of luxury.
In a room against the outer trunk, he finally found Stone. He stood at a big round opening to the outside, looking out into the rainy gloom. The opening had a heavy wooden sliding door, like the one they had found on the lower entrance. Stone must have opened it, dislodging the dirt and rotting leaves now scattered across the floor.
Moon stepped up beside him. A giant branch blocked the view directly overhead, but the doorway looked down on the platforms far below, now sodden under the pouring rain. In the failing light, he could just make out the old irrigation channels and ponds filling up, making a ghost outline of the gardens that had once been there.
Stone didn’t look around. His expression was, as usual, hard to read. He said, “It feels… wrong. It’s too quiet.”
The rain was a rushing din, but that wasn’t the kind of noise he meant. Moon said, “It’s not quiet downstairs.” He leaned against the wall beside the opening. The air smelled rich with the rain, the dark earth, and loam. “Were you here when they built… grew this place?”
His eyes still on the drowning gardens, Stone’s brow furrowed. “I’m not that old.”
Thunder rumbled, not quite close enough to make Moon twitch. “But you lived here.”
“For a while. I was a boy when Indigo and Cloud led the court away.” From his expression, it was hard to tell if it was a good memory or a bad one. “I was too young and stupid to see it as anything but an adventure.”
Then these rooms had been filled with light and life, when there had been so many Raksura here they had had to leave for more open territory. It had to be strange to see it like this, dark and empty, scented of nothing but must and stale water. Moon had never gone back to a place he had lived before, unless he counted the Cordans’ camp, and he hadn’t felt anything there except impatience.
Still lost in memory, Stone added, “No one ever thought I’d get a queen, but Azure picked me out of the lot.”
Moon frowned at him. “Why didn’t they think you’d get a queen?”
Stone tapped his cheek, below his clouded right eye. He said, dryly, “I wasn’t born perfect.”
Moon ha
d always thought that was a fighting injury, like the rest of Stone’s scars. He knew consorts often went to other courts; Stone had been trying to get one from Star Aster when he had found Moon. But he supposed another court wouldn’t want an imperfect consort either. “What do consorts do, when they can’t get a queen?”
Stone thought about it for a long moment. “It depends on the court. Here… it wouldn’t have been so bad. All the benefits of being a consort, and none of the responsibilities.”
Moon was still working out what he felt about the benefits and responsibilities of being a consort. Before Jade, he would have been more than happy with the less complicated life of a warrior; all he had ever wanted was a place to live. Finding a place to live without having to hide what he was had been a completely unexpected turn of luck. But he could imagine how someone raised with the idea that the point of his life was to be a queen’s mate and to make clutches would see things differently. “That could seem… pointless.”
Stone didn’t look away from the ruined gardens. “It depends what you make of it.”
Thunder crashed, near enough to send a tremble through the wood underfoot, and Moon flinched back from the flash.
Stone glanced at him, lifting a brow. Moon was prepared for some sort of remark, but all Stone did was drop a hand on the back of Moon’s neck and shake him—affectionately, not hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Let’s go.”
Stone shoved the door into place, slid the bolts home, and they made their way down again. They took the long stairways through the silent spaces, since Stone didn’t seem to want to shift. The light-shells had been sporadically lit, giving glimpses of balcony-bowers hanging out over circular wells, dry fountains and pools, and carvings of Aeriat, Arbora, strange plants and animals mixed in with the more familiar. Much of it was inlaid with polished shell or glittering stones, or clear crystal. The singing had died away. Most of the court must have settled into sleep.
When they reached the greeting hall they found Knell sitting at the hearth with the other soldiers. He nodded to Stone. “The hunters are at the stair just below the teachers’ bowers, with Pearl and some warriors. Jade’s just below us, outside the nurseries.”
Stone looked around the hall thoughtfully. “I’ll come back up later and sleep here.”
Moon saw the flicker of relief cross Knell’s face. This was the only entrance they had found so far that wasn’t sealed, and if anything was going to object to their presence, it would probably choose to enter that way. Stone would be a big deterrent.
They took the stairs down to the teachers’ hall. Vine, Floret, and Sand had joined the others there, all in groundling form, and settled into a pile of bedding on the other side of the chamber. Root, demonstrating a youthful lack of nerves, was already curled up asleep.
Sand had always been in Jade’s camp, but Moon had thought Vine and Floret were closer to Pearl. Either they had changed their allegiance or they were just here to help guard this side of the nurseries and the Arbora’s bowers. It made him a little edgy not to know.
Moon sat down on one side of the hearth. Stone took the other and settled into place with a groan. Flower dipped cups of tea out of the steaming pot for them, asking Stone, “Are you all right?”
He gave her a sour look. “I’m old.”
Flower smiled. “We’d noticed.”
Jade came in from the passage, and Chime asked her, “Are we settled for now?”
“Finally.” Jade shook out her head frills and shifted to Arbora. “Everyone is convinced that we need daylight to finish exploring, and we need rest before we make plans and argue about where to put everything.”
Song said, “Your consort got your bed ready.”
Lifting his cup, Moon froze, self-conscious. He had made the sleeping place without even thinking about it. When he and Jade had flown to the east together, they had quickly got into the habit of taking turns, one finding and preparing a place to sleep and the other hunting for food. Aboard the flying ship, he had been recovering from his injuries and staying in a cabin with the mentors and Chime, who had been taking care of him. He realized he had no idea how to live with Jade inside a colony, and he kept running into subtleties of Raksuran behavior that he had no idea how to react to. He knew the others were staring at him, and made himself take a sip of tea as if nothing was wrong.
Jade tilted her head to study Song thoughtfully. Song’s eyes widened and she said, “I was just teasing!”
“Hmm,” Jade commented. She went over to the baskets and opened one to dig through it.
Chime gave Song an exasperated look, then turned to the others, obviously changing the subject. “How much food do we have left?”
“Enough for several days, plus the fresh meat from the hunt this morning,” Rill answered. “We still have about half the dried meat, because the Aeriat were refusing to eat it. We’re getting low on dried fruit, sava flour, dried sava, and roots.”
Stone said, “There are a lot of plants in this area that we can eat. Since no one’s been eating them for who knows how many turns, there should be plenty around.”
Jade sat down next to Moon, then leaned over to put something on the floor in front of him. It gleamed red-gold against the wood, catching the light: it was the bracelet that Stone had taken to Star Aster, the token to be given to the new consort. Moon picked it up. Having seen more of the Arbora’s artwork, he could tell now that the fluid serpentine shapes etched into the band were two entwined Raksura. He looked up to see Jade watching him, the scales on her brow faintly creased with worry.
Moon put the bracelet on, just under the knobby bone in his wrist. Jade pulled his head down and her teeth grazed the skin behind his ear in a gentle nip.
Flower cleared her throat and smiled faintly. “At least there should be plenty of game around here, too.”
Stone set his cup down. “We’ll need to reestablish our territory. I should be able to find the old boundaries.”
Jade glanced up. “Our territory? I wouldn’t think we’d need to worry…” She eyed Stone more sharply. “Unless there’s another court in this area?”
“There are several. This is the home forest, where our bloodlines were first born. There used to be colonies everywhere through here. Too many.” Stone shrugged. “Now there’s plenty of room.”
Chapter Three
Moon woke buried in blankets, with Jade warm beside him. His inner sense of the sun told him it was still some time before dawn, and the storm had calmed to the point where the wind
was barely audible. He pulled a fold of fabric down, just enough to get a good taste of the air.
Nothing had changed since last night. The others in the hall breathed deeply in sleep, except for some of the warriors on the far side of the room. From the soft noises, they were enjoying each other’s company under the blankets. Good idea, he thought, and flipped the blanket back up to settle down again and nuzzle Jade’s neck.
She slid an arm across his waist, curling around him. Nipping his ear, she whispered, “When we know we’re settled here for good, we’ll start a clutch.”
He nodded against her cheek. He was looking forward to babies in the nurseries that had actually come from him and Jade. But first they had to make certain this place was as secure as it seemed, and that the court could find enough food in the surrounding forest. More things to consider when you were choosing a permanent place to live. He said, “We need to make a consort for Frost.” Since Jade had taken Moon as consort, Frost had been demanding that they get a consort for her, occasionally remembering to request queens for Thorn and Bitter.
Jade hissed, ruefully amused. “I never realized what fledgling queens were like. I’m starting to feel a little sympathy for Pearl and Amber, when I was that age.”
Moon didn’t have any trouble imagining Jade as an imperious little fledgling, making Pearl’s life difficult, but he wasn’t going to say so. There was something else he was reluctant to bring up, but he had to know about the awkward moment las
t night. “What did it mean when I made a bed for you?”
This time Jade sounded more annoyed than amused. “It’s an old custom. It means you want to sleep with me. Song was being a little idiot.”
“I do want to sleep with you,” he pointed out, emphasizing it by nuzzling her collarbone.
“Consorts have their own bowers.” Jade’s tone was teasing. She pulled him more firmly against her. “So they can be guarded and chaperoned.”
This was the first time Moon had heard about the guarding and chaperoning part. Though it made sense, with everyone being careful to inform him that consorts his age—normal consorts his age—were supposed to be shy delicate creatures who seldom ventured out of their colonies. “So you’re telling me that Stone and I are going to sleep up there above the queens’ level? Because it’s about thirty turns too late to chaperone me.”
She tugged at the tie of his pants, her claws carefully sheathed. “When Thorn and Bitter get past the fledgling stage, they’ll come out of the nurseries and they’ll need bowers. As well as any other consorts we happen to produce.”
“I don’t know how that’s going to happen, if I’m sleeping up there with Stone—”
Jade growled, and rolled on top of him, and that was the end of that conversation.
Moon drowsed for a while, and woke when Jade climbed over him to get out of their nest. He shook himself free of the blankets, stretching extravagantly.
Chime and Rill sat by the hearth basin, blearily waiting for the water kettle to boil. Flower was nowhere to be seen. Jade, who was waking the warriors by the simple method of kicking various piles of blankets, told Moon, “I’m going to take a look around, make sure everything’s all right.”
“I’ll come with you.” Moon climbed out of the blankets and pulled his clothes back on. They left while the others were still stumbling around.
Moon and Jade made a circuit of the perimeter of their new home, going first up to the greeting hall, where Knell and the soldiers said all was well. Looking around, it took Moon a moment to find Stone. He was still asleep, but in his winged form, curled around the pillars of the stairs, his black scales blending into the carving. “How does he do that?” Moon asked Jade, as they went back down to the teachers’ hall. “Sleep in his other form.” Moon could do it for short periods of time, but it didn’t give him much real rest. He hadn’t seen any of the others do it either.