by Martha Wells
Moon saw that Balm clung to the ceiling carving just above, caught her eye, and pointed emphatically toward the creature’s head. Balm nodded, and Moon pushed off the pillar as she dropped from the ceiling. As Balm landed on the waterling’s head, Moon darted at its face, distracting it. Then Balm stretched down and raked it across the right eye.
The waterling roared, flailed its arms, and Moon twisted away only to run smack into a giant blue palm.
It slapped him out of the air. Instinct made him snap his wings in to protect them. Moon hit the paving in an uncontrolled tumble, and bounced to a halt to land on his back. The breath knocked out of him, he looked up to see the waterling’s big ugly face looming over him, one eye ripped open and leaking puss, the other filled with fury.
Then the waterling jerked back, roaring.
Moon shoved himself back and scrambled away, far enough to see Stone clamped to the creature’s back, his teeth and claws sunk deep into its flesh just above its spine. Then Stone twisted his head.
There was a muffled crack and the waterling stiffened, its tail lifted and fell with a thump that Moon felt through the paving. Then it slumped sideways, its body going limp.
Stone released it, spat in disgust, and jumped down off the creature’s back. The waterling was still alive, or at least animate. Its one working eye was still aware and furious, and its fingers twitched, though it couldn’t seem to move its arms. Moon took a deep breath in relief. He didn’t think they could have kept that up much longer. Jade and River glided down from the pillars to land at a safe distance, staring uneasily at the fallen creature.
Then from the dome, Chime shouted, “We’ve found a way in!”
Moon staggered upright. Chime had somehow managed to lift up the heavy figured metal of the sea serpent’s coil, next to the seam Balm had found earlier. Flower leaned down and pried at something hidden under the coil, while Esom tried to peer over her shoulder without getting poked by her spines.
Moon reached them just as Jade arrived, River limping after her. Chime said breathlessly, “This metal piece is on a hinge, see? And there’s a—”
“A place for a key.” Flower had found a slot in the smooth metal under the coil. The slot was meant for something round, with oddly-shaped projections; it did look like a keyhole.
Esom said, “But we don’t have the key. There might be some way to pick it.”
Flower stepped back to look at the foot of the dome where it fit against the floor. She straightened up and tapped the edge of the seam. “Stone, push on this. I think this is a separate piece that slides sideways.”
Stone leaned in, retracted his claws to plant his hands on the metal, and pushed. With a creak and a squeal of distressed metal, the whole section of the dome started to slide, slowly revealing a split at the seam that leaked dim white light.
They moved hastily back, and Jade pulled Flower away.
As the dome opened, they saw an empty room only half the size of the structure, lit by two hanging vapor-lights. The walls were covered with the now-familiar carvings of blue-pearl groundlings, discolored with age. In the center stood a broad waist-high plinth, the slanting surface set with polished crystals in various blues, greens, golds.
Flower stepped inside and moved toward the plinth. Esom hung back, telling her, “Careful. It could be dangerous.”
Moon leaned inside the doorway for a better look at the plinth. Metal plates set beside the crystals were covered with incised writing and figures. We didn’t know it, but this was what we were looking for. He said, “You know what that looks like?”
Chime nodded, almost bouncing with excitement. “The steering device of a flying boat.”
Stone braced himself and gripped the sliding panel more tightly. Apparently the mechanism wouldn’t allow it to stay open on its own. Jade stepped over the threshold, and said, “Steering? You mean this is where they control the leviathan?”
Flower frowned at the plinth and shifted back to her groundling form as if she could see it better that way. “But there’s no way to turn it, no way to steer.”
Watching anxiously, Esom said, “It has to be some kind of control mechanism. We know the Magisters controlled the leviathan when the city was first built, but they lost the ability.” He edged forward, trying to see better but still clearly wary about approaching the device. “Maybe they lost the knowledge to make this work.”
At the moment, Moon didn’t care. He stepped inside, moved close to the plinth, and tried to make some sense of the objects set into its surface. Only one was even vaguely familiar, a round brass plate protected by a glass cover. Inside was a sliver of metal on a pin, pointing south, that quivered and settled again when he tapped the glass. But Flower was right; unlike the steering column of the Golden Islanders’ flying boats, there seemed to be no way to turn the plinth.
“Where’s the seed?” River demanded from the doorway. “Is it in that thing?”
Flower shook her head, bared her teeth in an unconscious grimace. “I don’t know, give me a moment. We’ll have to search this room. There might be more hidden doors.”
Jade glanced up, started to speak, then frowned. “Wait, where’s Balm?”
Moon turned. Balm wasn’t in the room, and wasn’t outside with Stone. Oh no, he thought, and felt his heart sink. The last time he had seen her, she had been on the waterling’s head, just before it had swatted Moon out of the air. She hadn’t been there when Stone had hit the creature from behind.
Flower looked up from the plinth, her brow furrowed with worry. “What? Where is she?”
River and Chime turned away from the doorway and stepped back out into the mortuary chamber. “I don’t see her,” River said. “Unless she’s…” He hesitated, and stared at the waterling where it lay sprawled across the floor.
Jade threw a worried look at Moon, and started after River.
Moon caught her wrist to stop her at the threshold. “Stay here and help Flower search for the seed. Let us look for Balm.” If they had to dig Balm’s crushed body out from under the waterling, he didn’t want Jade to see it.
She hesitated, her spines flicking uncertainly. She clearly wanted to search for Balm herself, but they had to find the seed and get out of here, before Ardan sent anything else after them. After a moment, she nodded reluctantly and turned back to Flower.
Moon stepped out of the dome. Esom still hovered uncertainly by the doorway, nervously watching Stone. “Should I help them look for the seed?” he asked. “I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t want to…” He waved a hand helplessly. “… provoke someone to kill me, but we should hurry before—”
“Ask Flower,” Moon told him, distracted. Chime and River moved around the still-twitching body of the waterling, looking for any sign that Balm was trapped under it. He wanted to get over there and help.
Esom drew breath to speak. Then Stone hissed a warning. With a loud plop, five of Ardan’s warden-creatures appeared, barely paces away.
Four of them leapt for Stone’s head, one came at Moon. Moon yelled a warning to the others, and slung Esom away from the claws that reached for him. Stone tried to hold onto the dome’s panel, but the wardens hit him hard, knocked him off balance and away from the dome. The panel snapped shut.
Moon snarled in fury and slashed at the wide, fanged mouth of the warden bearing down on him. It slammed him to the floor, its weight crushed him down, and he sunk his claws into its jaw. He barely held it back from biting his head off.
Hot ichor washed over his hands. The warden jerked back and howled. Moon ripped it across the eyes and scrambled up in time to see more wardens pop into existence all over the chamber, as far as he could see.
Stone leapt for the nearest group and Moon lunged after him. Jade and Flower were trapped in the dome. Unless there’s a latch—there has to be a way to open it from— Then the wardens charged him, and Moon had no time to think of anything but fighting.
Moon and Stone fell back across the big chamber, fighting warden a
fter warden. Stone took them on directly. Moon darted in to slash at them, harried them into Stone’s reach, or finished off the walking wounded. Moon was peripherally aware of Chime and River doing the same, protecting their flanks. He kept getting glimpses of Esom, as he scrambled to stay behind them and away from the wardens. They must have killed dozens of the creatures but more came. Ardan was throwing every resource he had against them.
Then River called out, “We’re nearly to the wall! What now?”
Moon risked a look and saw they were nearly against the far wall of the chamber. There was a wide chased-metal gallery built across it, about thirty paces up, probably meant as an access to the tombs there. Unless Ardan had wardens who could fly, it would provide a needed respite. “Get up there!” he shouted to the others.
River bounced up to the gallery, and Chime snatched up Esom and followed. Stone pitched one last warden across the chamber and climbed after them, Moon close behind.
Panting, dripping with the creatures’ bitter blood, Moon gripped the railing, looking over the chamber. He couldn’t see the dome from here. It was lost in the shadows. He could see the scattered, bleeding bodies of the wardens. The dozen or so still on their feet edged forward. And past the first row of pillars stood a group of blue-pearl guards. They surrounded a single robed figure: Ardan.
“He’s here,” Moon said, glancing at the others. “The groundling magister.”
Chime and River were breathing hard, their scales covered with claw marks, the nicks and scratches of near-misses. Esom was flattened back against the wall, his expression numb with fear. Stone curled around the railing, most of him resting on the delicately incised metal of the gallery floor, tail dangling and deceptively relaxed. He snorted derisively, making his opinion of Ardan clear.
The magister moved forward, to the last row of pillars, barely fifty paces from them. He called out, “Please, let me speak to you!”
“We can hear you,” Moon said, pitching his voice to carry.
Ardan stepped forward again, and shaded his eyes against the glare of the nearest vapor-light. Squinting up at them, he said, “Surely we can come to some agreement.”
Moon hesitated. He knew Ardan had a talent for sounding sincere, but it was hard to resist the appeal. Ardan must not know Jade and Flower were trapped in the dome. If they could just talk him into letting them get back over to it…
Esom whispered urgently, “Don’t believe anything he says.”
River hissed in contempt. “He only wants to talk because we’re winning.”
“We’re not winning by that much,” Chime said, keeping a nervous eye on the wardens.
Stone jerked his head, telling Moon to go ahead and talk.
Moon spread his wings and dropped down from the gallery to land lightly on the floor.
Ardan regarded him for a moment. He was breathing roughly too, as if he had been in a battle. It must have cost him an enormous effort to send all these creatures after them. It was a relief that it wasn’t much easier to send them than to fight them. Ardan said, “I should have taken even more precautions, but I didn’t realize Esom knew where the seed was.” He hesitated, and looked up at the balcony again. “I didn’t realize there were so many of you here, or that one was so… formidable. I don’t see Rift. I assume he’s unhurt?”
So all their speculation was right and the seed was here, hidden in the dome. At least all this wasn’t for nothing, Moon thought. “Why do you care about Rift? Worried you missed a chance to have a Raksura stuffed and mounted?”
Ardan’s voice tightened. “He’s my friend. I don’t want him injured. He’s told me what he can expect from his own people. Your reaction to him was proof enough of that.”
“He stole our seed. He knew what that would do to the tree,” Moon said, and thought, He thinks Rift is here. He wants him to hear this. “Give it back, and we’ll leave. That’s all we want.” It was worth a try.
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Ardan’s voice was low and intense. “I persuaded Rift to help me take it from the forest because I had no other choice. It is a powerful artifact, and it means the survival of everyone in this city.” He stepped forward, and his men spread out to either side of him, watching Moon nervously. “Over the turns, our own magic has waned. We have to use substitutes, objects that carry inherent power that can be transferred to the devices that keep the leviathan from sinking below the surface or thrashing until it destroys the city. When I brought the seed here, the other magisters were only days away from losing what little control over the creature we have.” He spread his hands. “You must understand. Your people can find another place to live. Mine have no choice.”
Moon said, “We both know that’s not true.”
Ardan’s face went still, and a flush of heat darkened the blue skin of his cheeks and forehead.
Moon’s spines twitched. He had meant the traders’ ships, that the people here could leave the city if the magisters and the other wealthy residents bought the use of them for an evacuation. But that wasn’t what Ardan had heard. Jade was right. It wasn’t a coincidence that the leviathan had moved further out to sea.Ardan is controlling it.
Ardan said, thickly, “Then I’m glad we had this conversation.”
Then the floor dissolved under Moon’s feet, crumbling to dust. He dropped, shot his wings out to stop himself. Air rushed straight up from below and he caught it, played it across his wings to stay aloft. Several of Ardan’s men weren’t so lucky, and flailed as they tumbled down toward a great dark space below, along with fragments of the floor.
Moon couldn’t see what was down there, where the wind came from. The thick stench of the leviathan filled the air. Moon twisted enough to get a look behind him. The balcony had broken into a twisted mass of metal supports, and Stone clung to a post. River and Chime clung to him, and Esom clung to Chime. I’d tell Esom he was right, but I think he already knows, Moon thought, and looked back up at Ardan.
The Magister had gone to his knees, his face turned dull blue-gray by the terrible effort of destroying the floor.
The rush of air, the leviathan’s breathing, Moon thought suddenly. That wind came from the leviathan itself. There was some opening just below them, and in a moment it would— Moon flapped, tried to get out of the draft, shouted, “Stone, get away—”
The air reversed with a terrible suction as the creature inhaled. It dragged Moon down, tangled his wings. The pressure was terrible, irresistible. It dragged the air out of his lungs and made the edges of his vision go black. He flipped over in time to see it yank River and Chime away from their grip on Stone. Stone made a wild grab for them. The suction jerked him off the remnants of the balcony, shattered metal hurtling down after him.
Moon swore helplessly and used every bit of his remaining strength to wrench his wings in. The force of it rolled his body over again, so at least he could see what they were plunging into. He had the terrible feeling he already knew.
All he could see was a great dark space, then his eyes adjusted. It was a crater, a giant black crater in the back of the leviathan, surrounded by a ridge of scaly skin. An air hole, Moon thought, sick with dread, as they dropped helplessly down into it.
Chapter Fifteen
They fell, dragged down by the powerful suction of the leviathan’s breath. Moon couldn’t even struggle, the pressure so intense he couldn’t breathe. He thought his body would snap in half before he had a chance to smash into anything.
At first the darkness was complete. Then Moon caught flashes of blue light, just enough to show him that he was falling past a dark-gray surface ridged by scaly bone rings. He had a hard time believing this was really happening. He had always thought he would probably die by being eaten. Being inhaled by a leviathan wasn’t a fate he had considered.
Then he slammed into something ropy and semi-porous, bounced off it with stunning force, and tumbled through an opening in the surface.
Knocked nearly out of his wits, it took Moon moments to realize he was
falling free into a huge open space lit by an eerie blue glow, that the pressure was gone. He spread his wings and cupped them to slow his headlong plunge.
Thick webs stretched from all sides of the big chamber and formed a shadowy, complicated architecture, as if he were surrounded by the towers and galleries of a near-transparent city. The moving lights were small bundles of blue-tinged phosphorescence, suspended on long poles and somehow attached to the heads of creatures like giant slugs that crawled ponderously over the heavy cables of the webs. The light from those ambulatory bundles lit other shapes, big ones, small ones, that moved through the webs, hopped from strand to strand, or glided on ridged wings.
Oh, this is… different. Horrible and different. Moon’s throat was too dry to swallow, but at least he could breathe. He looked up, saw Stone not far above him, and the smaller figures of Chime and River. Chime had, somehow, managed to hold on to Esom. Moon wasn’t sure Esom was going to thank him for that; it might have been a kinder end to die in the fall down onto the leviathan’s skin.
Moon looked down and spotted a solid mass below, some distance from the walls. It was an oblong shape, a couple of hundred paces long and wide, suspended near the center of the space. Moon aimed for it and landed on the rubbery surface, then pulled his wings in and dropped to a defensive crouch. River and Chime landed on either side of him, Esom still clinging tightly to Chime. Stone reached it a few moments later. He snapped his wings in and crouched low.
The bulk of Stone’s body looming over them gave Moon what was probably a false sense of security. He peered into the dim blue light; nothing seemed to be coming for them, but that had to be just a matter of time. “What is this place?”
“Didn’t we fall into the monster?” River said, a thread of panic in his voice. “Where are we?”
“Parasites.” It was Esom who gasped it out. “Colonies of parasites…”
“He’s right,” Chime said, sounding near the edge of panic himself. “These creatures live inside the leviathan. They could be animals, or intelligent, I don’t know.”