by Martha Wells
Moon picked up the pressed cake of tea and the wooden tool used to scrape it off into the pot. “What was that about?”
“I don’t like interfering Arbora.” Stone took the cake and the scraper away, and moved the pot out of Moon’s reach. He was particular about tea.
“The Arbora at Indigo Cloud aren’t interfering?” Because that hadn’t been Moon’s experience.
Stone sniffed at the tea dubiously, then set it aside and got his own out of his pack. “It’s different when they’re related to you.”
Moon waited until Stone had the first cup down before he said, “I want to stay. I want to find out what Opal Night is going to do about the Fell and the groundling city.”
Stone hissed in pure irritation and deliberately set the cup down. It was a delicate blue ceramic, with bands of silver gray and dark green, in a complex pattern that would probably make the Arbora at Indigo Cloud sick with envy. “Are you going to say that to Jade when she gets here?”
Until last night, Jade’s arrival had felt like something from a Hassi creation myth: much longed for but expected to be apocryphal. Even knowing that she would be here soon, Moon was still having trouble thinking logically about it. He didn’t answer, and Stone continued, “And if I can’t get you out of here, do you think your crazy mother who had you dragged all the way across the Reaches is just going to hand you over when Jade asks?”
When Stone said “mother,” Moon still thought first of Sorrow and not Malachite, and it took him a moment to answer. “She doesn’t have any reason to keep me here.”
A voice from behind him said, “You don’t want to know us at all, do you?”
Moon twitched around. Celadon stood in the doorway. Distracted, he hadn’t heard her arrival, but he felt fairly certain it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Stone. Irritated at being caught unawares, at her for existing, at Stone, he told her, “No, I don’t. Why should I?”
Celadon stepped forward, spines flicking in agitation. “We’re your bloodline. We’re responsible for you—”
Moon shoved to his feet. “You left me to die in a forest. That’s what you’re responsible for.”
“That wasn’t me, I didn’t leave you! I was a fledgling myself, whether you remember or not.” Celadon’s spines snapped up, trembling with fury. “I lost you, I lost our clutchmates, the others in the nurseries, I lost our father, I lost Twist and Yarrow, the teachers who took care of us, almost everyone I knew.” She turned away, and her tail lashed angrily. “You are the only thing I’ve ever gotten back from that time.”
“It’s too late!” Moon snarled at her. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but the mix of anger and pain wouldn’t let him admit it. “I can’t be him again, I’m something else.”
“I don’t expect you to!” She rounded on him, baring her fangs. They glared at each other, then Celadon took a deep breath, forcing her spines down, deliberately calming herself. “I know you’re different now.” Reluctantly, she added, “Do you hate us so much?”
“I don’t hate you,” Moon said, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “I just don’t know why you want me here.”
She hissed, exasperated. “Because you’re part of us.”
“It’s too late for that, too.”
She watched him, her spines going completely flat as the last of the anger left her expression. Finally, she said, “Malachite wants to see you.” She tilted her head toward Stone. “And the line-grandfather.”
Stone set his teacup down. “Good.”
Celadon led them to the queens’ hall, where they had argued last night. Moon was assuming this was the queens’ hall for Malachite’s bloodline, and that Onyx and her daughters had a separate set as far away as possible.
In the day, shafts of light fell down from the well high overhead to light the carvings winding up the wall. Malachite waited for them, sitting to one side of the bowl hearth with several Arbora, including Lithe and Russet, behind her. Also present was Malachite’s warrior Rise, a few other older female warriors and, surprisingly, Shade. Shade was the only one who smiled when Moon walked in.
Moon knew enough by now to recognize the formal setup: the way the Arbora and warriors were dressed in the silky flowing fabrics of their good clothes, the tea set beside the hearth that no one would probably use, the arrangement of the seating mats and cushions. He just had no idea what it meant in context with his situation. You could have asked Celadon, he told himself, if you hadn’t been busy yelling at her.
Celadon moved past to sit near Malachite, and Moon and Stone took seats opposite the queens. Apparently, there was no older male consort who belonged to Malachite. Which meant Malachite hadn’t taken another after Moon’s father had been killed.
Malachite broke the silence first, saying to Stone, “Do you still plan to tell other courts about our crossbreed children?”
Shade twitched, startled, and looked anxiously from Malachite to Stone.
Unperturbed, Stone said, “Was I supposed to be reconsidering it?”
Malachite’s voice stayed level. “Answer me.”
Stone countered, “Are you still planning to steal Indigo Cloud’s consort?”
“You and I both know you had no right to take him.”
We could be here all day, Moon thought. If Malachite was one tenth as stubborn as Stone, this could go on for the rest of the turn. He said, “Isn’t it my fault, for agreeing to be taken?”
Everyone stared at him, as if they had all expected him to just sit silently. Stone hissed, “Shut up.”
“No, you shut up.” The swipe Stone took at his head was half-hearted and Moon ducked it easily. He kept his gaze on Malachite. “Isn’t it my fault?”
Malachite didn’t answer, though her tail made a slow lash. Celadon’s spines rippled in annoyance and she said, “You didn’t know any better. You—”
Malachite said, “Quiet.”
Celadon subsided reluctantly. Moon said, “I didn’t know any better. And all Indigo Cloud knew was what I told them. So if you don’t hold me responsible, then you can’t hold them responsible. They had every right to take me.”
There was a moment’s silence. Malachite’s tail did that slow lash again, that Moon couldn’t interpret. It occurred to him at that point that they could very well blame him for accepting Jade without his birthcourt’s permission. He should have bothered to find out what the punishment was for that, but at worst it would be exile from Opal Night, which wouldn’t leave him any worse off than he had been before. Though it would be somewhat ironic.
Then one of the older Arbora said, admiringly, “He argues like a mentor.”
Stone said, “He argues, period. Are you sure you want him?”
“Yes,” Malachite said, simply.
“Why?” Moon made his voice hard. He knew he was susceptible to her; he didn’t want to lose his resolve. “Do you have a court you want to sell me off to? You think another queen would ever want me, a feral solitary who’s already taken?”
Malachite stood, stalked forward three deliberate steps until she stood over him. Moon just looked up at her, refusing to let himself flinch away. His skin itched with the urge to shift. In a voice rough with fury, she said, “I know nothing of this queen or this court. Why did she take you if she thought you were a solitary?”
Stone half uncoiled from the floor, not quite pushing in front of Moon but making it clear he was there. “She took him because she likes him. I thought she would; that’s why I brought him to her.”
Moon said, “You can ask her when she gets here.”
Malachite stared down at him, her eyes as hard and opaque as dark glass. Then she stepped back. “I will.”
There were relieved hisses from the other end of the room.
As she moved away, Stone eased back down into a sitting position and gave Moon a look that was irritation mixed with relief.
Moon took a deep breath without making it obvious, feeling the skin of his back ripple, settling the spines he wasn’t wearing at the mom
ent. He seemed to have won the point, or at least part of it. Time to push a little further. “Are you going to warn the groundlings about the Fell?”
Malachite’s spines shivered, but she didn’t answer immediately. She settled herself back into her place, and tilted her head to Celadon. Celadon said to Moon, “I’ve tried. I’ve visited them twice, but they’ve never heard of Fell before, not even as stories.”
They were very far west, but Moon found that strange. Even the peoples of the inland freshwater sea had heard of the Fell. Or at least Ardan had heard of them. But he had been a scholar as well as a collector; maybe the Fell weren’t common knowledge in this part of the west. He said, “If they don’t know anything about the Fell, it makes them even more vulnerable.”
There was a restrained stir from the Arbora, whether of agreement or censure, Moon couldn’t tell. Celadon said, “I can try again. But if they won’t listen to me, there isn’t much I can do.”
“Let me try.” Moon had no idea if they would let him leave the colony, but the chance of having something positive to do was too good to resist. “I’ve seen groundling cities destroyed by the Fell. I can tell them how it will happen, what the Fell will do to them, what to watch out for.”
The silence stretched. The Arbora and warriors stared at Moon again, shocked and a little incredulous. He realized they hadn’t heard this part of the story before. Maybe they wouldn’t believe him.
Stone said, reluctantly, “He’s right. He’s seen a lot of Fell. To put it mildly.”
Unexpectedly, Celadon turned to Malachite. “I would agree to take him with me to the city to try again. Even though the groundlings are stubborn, it’s cruel not to try to convince them of the danger. And if the Fell take the city, it will only give them a secure place to attack us and the rest of the Reaches.” She added, “But if we do this, we should go today. Before the Fell get any closer.”
Russet leaned forward, her expression worried. “With the Fell nearby, isn’t it too dangerous to let a consort leave the colony?”
Moon didn’t laugh, didn’t make a comment about all his turns outside a colony. He thought Stone’s sardonic expression said it all. Celadon flicked her spines uncomfortably, as if all too aware of the irony, and said, “I think we all realize that Moon is different.”
Malachite didn’t respond to Russet. She regarded Stone thoughtfully. “I assume the line-grandfather would accompany you.”
Stone said, “I would.”
“How do I know he won’t simply take you back to Indigo Cloud?”
“He knows I wouldn’t go.” Moon turned to look Stone in the eye. “And if he forced me to go, he knows I’d just come back.”
Stone’s expression promised another slap to the head in Moon’s near future. He said, “‘He’ knows the queens involved would rather fight this out than be reasonable.”
Malachite showed the tips of her fangs. “You mean give in to your demands.”
“Exactly.” Stone wasn’t intimidated. “The other courts are going to find out about your crossbreeds eventually.” Stone held her gaze for a long moment. “You’ll need an ally. Indigo Cloud could be one.”
Even through Malachite’s opaque expression, Moon could tell she wasn’t moved by that possibility.
Then Shade eased up to kneel beside her. “Can I go to the groundling city too? If my half-clutch-brother and the line-grandfather are going—”
Moon wasn’t sure what surprised him more, that Shade had dared to ask or Malachite’s reaction. Malachite ruffled Shade’s hair with an air of exasperated affection. “No, you may not go. Not until you are as old and wise as your half-clutch-brother.”
Moon stared, taken aback. He wanted to see the description as ridicule, but no one else was reacting to it that way.
Malachite’s gaze crossed his but she didn’t give any sign that she had noticed his reaction. Celadon pushed to her feet and said, “I’ll gather my warriors, if the consorts are ready to leave.”
As the warriors and Arbora started to stand, Moon got up and walked out to the passage at a reasonable pace, trying to make certain nothing he did could be interpreted as fleeing. It’s a trick, he thought. She just wants you to think that…that she wants you back, like she and Celadon said. He didn’t want to believe that. It was much easier to hate them for leaving him behind all those turns ago. Even if you know it’s completely irrational.
Stone stopped beside him and frowned. “What’s wrong with you now?”
“Nothing.” Moon gritted his teeth.
Stone might have persisted, but Celadon reached them and said, “You weren’t surprised to see Shade, and you didn’t ask who he was.”
She was trying to sound neutral, but Moon caught the hint of worry in her tone. “I talked to him last night.”
“Oh.” Celadon frowned, now clearly worried. “Did he come to see you?”
“No. He came for something he left behind, and I heard him.” She still looked uneasy, and he added, “I didn’t try to kill him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Now she was just annoyed. “That’s not what I was wondering. It’s just that he’s sheltered. He doesn’t understand how other courts would react to him—”
“He can’t help what he is,” Moon said. Shade was sheltered, but he wasn’t a fool, either. “And I think he does understand.”
He thought she would dismiss that immediately, but after a moment’s thought, she shook her head in regret. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I just want to think he doesn’t realize.”
Behind them, Stone sighed in irritation. “So are we going to this groundling city or not?”
They flew to the west, Moon, Stone, Celadon, and her escort of five warriors.
It was a bright sunny morning, the sky a clear blue only lightly dotted with clouds. Below them, the terrain grew more rocky, and the mountain-trees more isolated, until they stood out as individual islands, their giant canopies spread like clouds. Each tree was surrounded by outcrops and deep narrow gorges, overflowing with heavy green vegetation.
Finally there was only one mountain-tree in sight, a squat one with a canopy shaped more like a bush; Celadon guided them down toward it. They landed in the roots, on a rocky outcrop where a pool had formed to catch the water runoff from the tree’s knothole. Celadon told Moon, “This is the last good water before the plateau, and there’s usually game in this area. Are you hungry?”
“Not yet.” Moon folded his wings and stretched. The wind, with no mountain-trees to break it, was strong and gusty. “I can wait, if the warriors can.” He suspected she had broken their journey here for his benefit, to make certain the delicate consort wasn’t struggling to keep up with her warriors’ pace. He actually felt better than he had since arriving at Opal Night, a state which was probably directly proportional to the speed they were flying away from it, but he wasn’t going to mention that.
As the warriors went to drink from the pool, Celadon said, “Opal Night is not a bad court to live in, you know. Even Onyx’s bloodlines get along with each other.”
Or maybe this was why she had wanted to stop, for a chance to talk him into submitting to Malachite’s will. Moon snorted, deliberately provoking. “Isn’t that unusual for Raksura?”
Celadon refused to be provoked. “As you might imagine, Malachite doesn’t tolerate troublesome behavior. And Onyx may take every opportunity to test Malachite, but she doesn’t let her daughter queens squabble either. That’s the only thing they agree on.”
Moon wondered what life as a fledgling in Opal Night had been like. He thought of the sleek confidence of the young consorts of Onyx’s line, Celadon’s even temper, and Shade’s sunny disposition, and felt a surge of jealousy. Still trying to get an angry reaction out of her, he said, “You didn’t mind being raised with crossbreed Fell?”
She lifted her brows. “You think we weren’t? We were all in the nurseries together from the beginning. Most of us were too young to remember what had happened to the court, or much of the
trip to the Reaches, but it was never hidden from us.” Her gaze went to the plains ahead, where the morning light was turning the tall grass into gold waves. “But still…The Arbora who survived the attack on the eastern colony talk about how happy the court was there. We’re not sad now, but it hangs over us, the gaps in our bloodlines.”
Moon had heard enough. He didn’t want to think about being part of that close-knit group of survivors, trusting each other and trusting Malachite, returning to the safety and security of Opal Night’s home colony. He started for the pool.
Celadon squinted upward. Stone hadn’t landed, and was circling overhead. “Is something wrong with the line-grandfather?”
“He doesn’t like to stop.” Moon hopped further down the outcrop, to a spot where the water overflowed the pool and tumbled down the slope into the gorge. He stepped onto a ledge where he could catch the spray, and cupped his hands for a drink. The water tasted of rock and moss.
When he stepped away from the fall, he immediately scented something musky and animal; against the mountain-tree’s sweet scent, it stood out like a sharp punch to the nose. An instant later he spotted it: a dark gray bipedal shape, armor-plated like a Tath but with a wide triangular head. It crept up a ridge of the outcrop, headed toward the warriors who were crouched at the edge of the pool, about forty paces above. They were facing away and hadn’t noticed it yet.
Moon couldn’t tell what its intent was; it couldn’t mean to take on all of them. But it was better to drive it off before it got any closer. He crouched and leapt, landed on the rock above it, flared his spines and wings. It reared back, startled, but bared its impressive rows of teeth threateningly. Moon showed it his larger and sharper set of fangs.
It growled to save face, and retreated rapidly back down the slope. It disappeared into the jungle filling the gorge, ferny branches shaking to betray its path. Moon relaxed and glanced around to see Celadon sat on the ledge next to the fall, watching him. The warriors had noticed the altercation, and all of them had flattened spines from embarrassment.