by Martha Wells
Stone turned to regard Rift, who shrank back against the wall. Stone started across the room toward him, slow deliberate steps.
Moon said, “Leave him alone.” The words were out before he thought.
Stone stopped, cocked his head. His expression was opaque. He said, “I need to take care of this now.”
Moon looked at Jade, but she watched Rift. None of the others were looking at the warrior; they were waiting, stiff and tense, anticipating violence. Moon flushed cold in realization. Take care of this meant kill the solitary. Moon growled low in his throat. “No.”
Stone was fast in his groundling form, but it took Moon’s breath when he was suddenly across the room, face to face with Moon, between one heartbeat and the next.
Moon fought down several impulses, to shift, to fall back, to squint to protect his eyes; he held his ground. Jade gave a startled snarl, a thick, rough sound like rock scraping. The others were dead silent, frozen in place. Rift had flattened himself back against the wall.
Ignoring all of them, Stone said, “This needs to be done. He betrayed us to groundlings.”
Moon said, “He didn’t know we were coming back to the tree. He didn’t know we existed.”
“And we don’t know what he did to get thrown out of a court. He’s a solitary and he can’t be trusted.”
Moon held his gaze. “Like you couldn’t trust me.” His voice shook, but it wasn’t from fear.
“What?” Stone’s eyes went hooded, but not quite in time to conceal his start of shock. He knew Moon meant the day Stone had found him with the Cordans and had taken him up to a ruin in the mountain valley. “No.”
Yes. Moon had always known that the only reason Stone had bothered to save him was because he was a consort. But he had been naive enough to think that if Stone had decided that Moon was a real solitary, thrown out of a court for some terrible reason, Stone would have just left him behind somewhere. If he was willing to kill Rift just for showing Ardan the location of an empty colony tree… “You said you wanted to help me. If you hadn’t believed what I told you— You took me up there to kill me.”
Stone recoiled, snarled, and flung himself out of the room.
Everyone stared. Balm, Chime, and even Drift were appalled, Esom and Karsis confused and frightened. Flower just sighed, tired and disgusted. River looked as if, much against his better judgment, he was reluctantly impressed.
In the silence, Jade stepped forward. She jerked her head toward Rift, and told the warriors, “Watch him.” Then she caught Moon’s arm and pulled him out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Jade hauled Moon across the stairwell to a room on the far side. Root, who still hung from the ceiling, stared curiously as they went past but didn’t speak.
The room had a wall of tall windows, sheltered by the terrace on the floor above. Dawn was breaking, the first light spreading gray-blue across the dark sky. There was just enough light to see the carved figures in the walls glaring down with sightless eyes. Wind whipped through the room, scouring away the scent of mold.
Jade dropped Moon’s arm and went to the window. She faced away from him, her spines still quivering in agitation.
Moon watched her warily. He couldn’t tell who she was most angry at, him, Stone, Rift, or all three of them. He said, “I’m not going to let Stone kill him.”
Jade flicked a look at him. “He’s a solitary.”
Coming from her, that hurt. “So was I.” Rift had inadvertently betrayed Indigo Cloud to Ardan, not knowing the colony tree was soon to be occupied. Moon had inadvertently betrayed Indigo Cloud to the Fell, not knowing they had been waiting for turns for vengeance. Moon didn’t see much of a difference, except that he was a consort, and the court had needed him.
Jade turned to face him. He couldn’t see her expression with her back to the light, but her voice was still taut. “You weren’t thrown out of a court, Moon. It’s not the same thing.”
It felt like the same thing. “If I’d been born a warrior—” “Moon.” Jade moved to him and grabbed his shoulders. Moon was braced for just about anything, except what she said. “Stone likes you. He likes you better than most of his natural descendants.”
He tried to pull away but she didn’t let go. She said, “You didn’t give me a chance to tell you I’m glad you’re alive. I get here and find out you’ve talked your way into a groundling wizard’s tower, a groundling wizard who collects the decaying bodies of rare creatures—”
“You were supposed to give us three days.”
“I couldn’t wait.” She let him go and turned away with a distracted hiss. “Now the warriors are probably trapped out here and this damn thing is still moving. If we go further out than even Stone can fly, we can’t even—” She bit the words off.
Moon rubbed his arms where her hands had pressed into his groundling skin, jolted into remembering that Rift wasn’t the only issue. If they all died here, unable to escape, or drowned trying to reach the forest coast, it would be Jade’s fault for not waiting. That would please River, though probably not much, what with being dead himself. And why had Pearl sent River after them and not one of her other warriors? As far as Moon had been able to tell, she had always kept her favorite warriorlover close at hand. Maybe River had wanted to prove himself. Things had changed in Indigo Cloud, and maybe River couldn’t hold on to his status without showing he was willing to risk his life for the court like Vine and Floret and the other warriors.
He could worry about River’s motives later. Jade was too much of a Raksura to remember there were other ways off this leviathan than flying. Moon said, “The groundlings—Esom and Karsis—have a boat.”
Jade’s spines twitched. “Of course,” she muttered. She turned to him, her brow furrowed. “They’ve said they won’t leave without their friends. We’d have to take it from them.”
Moon shrugged uncomfortably. “I know.” Negal and his crew had helped steal the seed. But telling Esom and Karsis they were on their own was one thing; forcing them to abandon their people to die was another.Maybe we could work something out. They didn’t need a boat for the whole trip, just to carry them far enough that the coast was within a safe flying distance for the warriors. “Maybe…” He let the word trail off as he realized the subtle sway of the tower, the sense of motion, was dying away with the howl of the wind.
Jade went to the window. Moon reached her side and looked over the rooftops out to the sea. The rising sun broke through the streaked clouds and glanced off the water, glittering on the roiling whitecaps stirred by the leviathan’s fins. But the waves died down and settled to swells. The leviathan was gliding to a halt.
Jade hissed in bitter amusement. “You and Rift escape Ardan, and suddenly this creature moves further out to sea? It can’t be a coincidence.”
Moon leaned on the windowsill. “It has to be. The whole reason the city needs the magisters at all is because the leviathan moves… at random.” Huh. That was what all the groundlings thought, anyway.Because that’s what the magisters tell them.
Jade’s expression was thoughtfully skeptical. “How convenient for the magisters.”
Moon looked out to sea again. “Some groundlings who live here told us that turns ago the magisters started to lose their power, and the leviathan woke and swam away. They can still keep the city together, but they can’t make the leviathan go back to the shore.”
“Or they let the leviathan swim away, so they could keep control of the city,” Jade said.
“Maybe. Maybe they have just enough power to make it move when they want.” Ardan clearly had some hold over Magister Lethen, a hold that Lethen bitterly resented. “Or when Ardan wants. Maybe he’s the only one with the power to make the leviathan move anymore. He’s the youngest magister.” He turned away from the window, thinking over what Ardan had said, and not said.
“We know he thought our seed would help him somehow, give him power. We don’t know if he was right or not.” Jade shook her spines, irritated
. “We won’t know until we find this mortuary temple.”
Moon hesitated, but he wanted this point settled. “Are you going to let Stone kill Rift?”
Jade twitched at the question. But she said, “Not today.” Her voice hardened. “That’s as far as I’ll go.”
Moon set his jaw, forced himself not to argue, and walked out.
Moon went back into the main room. Rift sat on the floor in the far corner. Esom and Karsis were still seated on the bench, and Chime, Balm, and Drift stood around looking uncomfortable.
Moon asked, “Where’s Flower?” River was missing too, but he didn’t care if River had gone up to take a turn on watch or had flown away to die somewhere.
He had spoken in Kedaic, and Karsis answered, “She said she was going to talk to the older man who stormed off earlier.”
“Is Jade all right?” Balm asked, a little hesitantly.
“Yes.” Moon was hesitant too. “She’s… resting.”
Drift sneered. “She should give you a beating.”
Moon took a step toward him. His expression must have made his first impulse clear. Drift flinched back and hissed.
Balm hissed at Drift, and Chime threw him a glare, saying, “Why don’t you go say that to Jade and see what happens?”
Apparently declining to follow that advice, Drift subsided. He retreated to lean against the wall with his arms folded, and eyed Moon resentfully.
Esom and Karsis sat stiffly, trying to look as if they weren’t tense to the point of rigidity. It seemed cruel to expose them to any more of Drift than absolutely necessary, but they had to be watched. Moon nodded toward an alcove on the other side of the room. It had another stone bench and room to stretch out on the floor. The two groundlings had been awake all night, too, and had to be weary. He said, “You can go over there to rest, if you want. Chime, do you have spare blankets?”
Chime turned to one of the packs lying against the wall. “Yes, I’ll find some. And some water, and I think we have some dried fruit and roots they could eat.”
Relaxing a little, Karsis said, “Thank you,” and Esom nodded, still stiffly.
Moon went over to where Rift was crouched in the corner and sat near him. Rift watched him warily, his body tight with tension. This close, Moon could scent the fear in his sweat. He said, “They won’t kill you.”
Rift’s shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes for a moment. He made a noise that was between a sob and a harsh laugh, and looked up at Moon again. “Your queen does whatever you want?”
Moon stared him down, until Rift dropped his gaze. “Sorry,” Rift muttered. “I didn’t mean… The consorts at my court weren’t like you.”
That was probably true. “Did Ardan think I was here alone?” Yesterday Moon had told the magister that he had friends waiting for him, but he was hoping Ardan had taken that as a lie, part of Moon’s persona as a trader.
Rift shook his head. “I don’t know. He didn’t even tell me that he had another guest.”
Moon let out his breath. He didn’t think that was a lie. Rift’s shock at seeing another Raksura had been genuine. “How much does Ardan know about Raksura? When he saw me shift, would he have known I was a consort? That a consort wouldn’t be here alone?”
Rift’s brow furrowed as he considered it. “He knows what a consort is, but… I’m not sure he really understands, not well enough to realize you wouldn’t be traveling alone.” Rift hesitated and watched him uneasily. “Why did they send you to the tower? Why not one of the warriors?”
Moon drew back. “I’ve been around groundlings. The others haven’t.” He wasn’t ready to say more than that. Rift already had a hold on him, he didn’t need to know details. He countered, “What did you do to get thrown out of your court?”
It was Rift’s turn to recoil. After a moment, he said, “The queens didn’t like me.”
The flicker of hesitation in Rift’s eyes told Moon it was a lie. And if that was a reason to be exiled, half of Indigo Cloud would be wandering the Three Worlds. “Were you from a royal clutch?”
Startled resentment crossed Rift’s expression. “Yes,” Rift admitted, biting the word off as if it hurt to tell the truth. “How did you know?”
There was something about Rift’s attitude that suggested it. The warriors born out of royal clutches always seemed to be the troublesome ones. “Just a wild guess,” Moon said. Across the room he saw Drift, who had been pretending not to listen, roll his eyes in derision.
Rift’s sideways look was dubious. Moon said, “Why didn’t the queens like you?”
“I had a fight with one of the reigning queen’s favorites.” That wasn’t a good reason to be exiled, either. Moon hadn’t even been in the court that long, and he knew young warriors frequently attacked each other. River and Moon had tried to kill each other right in front of Pearl and Jade, and nobody had suggested exiling anybody.
Moon asked, “Did you kill her?”
Rift flicked his spines. “Of course not.”
Moon sensed the story had just veered off the truth again. Rift’s answer had been too easy. Moon thought an adult female warrior, especially a favorite probably from a royal clutch herself, could have beaten Rift into the ground. And if the fight was so violent that Rift had killed his opponent in self-defense, that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to admit. Moon said, “So they threw you out of the court for losing a fight with a queen’s favorite?”
Rift’s jaw set as if he suppressed some strong emotion. Moon knew in his bones that this was play-acting. Rift said bitterly, “If that’s how you want to describe it. It wasn’t fair, but it’s what happened.”
Moon watched him for a long moment, but Rift’s gaze didn’t waver. He knew he hadn’t gotten the truth yet, but Rift seemed committed to this story, at least for now.
He got to his feet and walked out, randomly picking another doorway off the stairwell. The room within was thankfully empty, a little smaller than the others on this floor, with long narrow windows letting in light and the damp air.
There was a quiet step behind him and he glanced back to see Balm.
She stopped and said, “He’s not like you, Moon. He’s a real solitary, exiled from his court for a good reason.”
Moon rubbed his eyes, trying to be patient. He suspected he was going to be having this conversation a lot. “You don’t know he’s not like me,” he said, aware he was just being difficult. “I could be lying.”
Balm shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t know anything about living in a court. You have to have everything explained to you, and when we do explain it, you look like you think we’re crazy. Everyone who speaks to you notices that. No one is that good a liar.”
Moon turned away abruptly and sat down against the wall, folding his arms. He had expected to have the conversation, but not that it was going to be about him. Balm followed and sat on her heels in front of him. He said, reluctantly, “It could have been me. Everything Rift did. When I was alone, I was just looking for a place to live. If I’d been hurt, trapped, and been found by someone like Ardan, who was kind to me… Even if he wanted to use me, I might have gone along with it, just to belong somewhere.” He waved a hand in frustration. “That’s exactly what happened with Stone. I crossed the Three Worlds for the first person who asked me.”
“The first Raksura who asked you,” Balm corrected, unconvinced. “Back at the colony tree, you told me what I should do. Now I’m telling you. This solitary is not like you. Thinking of him that way is a mistake.” She sat back. “He’s even changed his name. No one calls a child ‘Rift.’”
Stone had said much the same thing about Sorrow, the warrior whom Moon had thought of as his mother. But a warrior who changed her name to Sorrow because her court had been destroyed and she was left alone with four small Arbora and a fledgling consort to care for was understandable. A warrior who left his court and called himself “Rift”… “I know. I know I can’t trust him.”
Balm w
atched him. “Do you trust us?”
Moon couldn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t trust them. Maybe he was pretending they were his family, going through the motions, but deep in his heart he didn’t really believe it. It would explain a lot, he told himself.Like why you keep acting like an idiot.
Balm shook her head regretfully. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. Did you think we would have let that noisy little Emerald Twilight queen touch you?”
It had never even crossed his mind that they might defend him. From a Fell or a predator or some other common enemy, but not from a Raksuran queen, even one from a strange court. It was an uncomfortable insight.
His inability to answer told Balm all she needed to know. She sighed and squeezed his knee sympathetically, then pushed to her feet and walked away.
Chime passed her in the doorway, and Moon hunched his shoulders, feeling beleaguered. “Don’t say she’s right. I know she’s right.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Chime sat down, settling uneasily on the cracked tiles. “She is right, though.”
Moon rubbed his forehead; the tension and the long night underground had given him a headache. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. I just… I don’t want to worry Flower. Especially now, when she’s trying to talk to Stone.”
Moon squelched a surge of guilt at the mention of Stone. “Worry her about what?”
Chime sighed. “I keep having these… odd feelings.”
“Odd how?”
Chime made a vague gesture. “Like I can feel water moving, and… cold and weight and rock. I’m twitchy, like I can just catch glimpses of things that flick away before I can focus on them. The feelings come and go, in bursts—which is good, because otherwise I’d go out of my head.”
That definitely sounded odd. “When did it start?”
“Since just before dawn, when we landed on this creature.” Chime shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with the whole idea that he might have some sort of heightened awareness of the leviathan. “I know. If it’s a coincidence, it’s a strange one.”