by Martha Wells
As Celadon explained the necessity of removing the ruler’s head and burying it somewhere, Moon went inside to look for the injured groundling boy. He found him in a large sitting room with a colorful mosaic floor, lying on a couch with several groundlings gathered around. A man pressed a cloth to the bleeding scratches on the boy’s neck, and a woman crouched anxiously beside him.
“Is he all right?” Moon asked. The boy blinked up at him, then his eyes widened in recognition. He had been staring at Moon’s face through the entire tense conversation with the ruler, and must have seen enough to recognize him in his other form.
The man who was tending the boy, presumably a healer, eyed him sharply and said, “It depends. Are your claws poisonous?”
Moon set his jaw and managed not to hiss. It was good to know the groundling world hadn’t changed any. “No, and if they were, it wouldn’t matter, because I’m not the one who clawed him.”
The woman said fiercely, “They offered themselves in my son’s place. None of the rest of you did.”
Moon decided Aventeran gratitude was even more uncomfortable than ingratitude, and retreated to the balcony.
Out there, Ivades’ corpse still lay on the paving, but someone had tossed a blanket over it. From the outline, the head was still there. Havram faced Celadon and Stone, while Ennia stood by. Some of the other groundlings gathered at a wary distance, but one stood next to Havram, a young man dressed in the same rich style. This didn’t look good.
His voice tight as wire, Havram said, “Livan is an archimaster. He has never heard of this barbaric practice.”
“Livan has never heard of the Fell.” Celadon’s whole body was tense, her spines trembled with the effort to stay flat, and she looked almost more angry than when facing down the ruler. “So his opinion on the best way to dispose of their remains is irrelevant at best.”
“What?” Moon asked Stone.
In Raksuran, Stone replied wearily, “That’s their magic-maker, here to tell everybody how this is all our fault.”
“What?” Moon repeated.
“Perhaps you should go for now,” Ennia told Celadon. “Later, after we speak of this—”
“Just go,” Havram interrupted. “And stop trying to involve us in your disagreements.”
Stone made an exasperated noise. He looked from Celadon to Moon and said, “Have you two seen enough? Are you happy now? Can we leave?”
Moon was more than ready to get out of this place. He was almost as tired of Ennia’s attempts to pretend all was well when she clearly knew better as he was of Havram’s obstinacy.
Celadon growled in her throat. “Yes, we can go.” She stepped over to Ivades, tossed the blanket aside, planted her foot on the corpse and ripped its head off with one twist. She straightened up and said to Ennia and Havram, “The Fell will come. I hope at least some of your people survive.”
They took flight from the balcony, leaping off it to fight the wind.
Celadon guided them over the plateau, out of sight of the city and its patrolling bladder-boats, to one of the flying islands. It was a small one, only a few hundred paces long and wide, and almost buried in wind-blown greenery. There was an old ruin on it, but it was just a few roofless stone walls covered in vines. One side was open to a sheer cliff where the rest of the structure had fallen away when the island had broken apart. Moon wondered if the people of Aventera knew about the stone at the heart of the islands that contained the magic to keep them aloft. He doubted it, since they used the awkward bladder-boats for air travel.
They landed, and the warriors busied themselves finding dry wood for the crude firepit already constructed against the outer wall of the ruin. Apparently this was where Celadon had stayed on her previous visits to the city. One of the warriors told Moon, “There’s a better ruin on one of the other islands, but it has flying snakes.”
Moon nodded absently, then realized that the warrior had been apologizing for the lack of accommodation. Moon had slept in much worse places, but it was always interesting to be treated like a real consort.
Once a fire was built, Celadon sent the warriors away to bury the ruler’s head on the plain and to hunt. Then she sat down beside the hearth with Moon and Stone. She looked weary, dispirited, and worried. To Moon, she said formally, “Thank you for insisting we go to the city again. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t know…about this.”
Moon shrugged uncomfortably. He wasn’t particularly proud of his performance in the city. He felt it would have turned out better if he had been more persuasive, if he could have given more examples of how the Fell preyed on groundlings. The whole thing had seemed to start out well and then devolve into a disaster almost before he noticed. Not that that’s unusual. But there was nothing they could do about it now. “You were right, about attacking the ruler. You should have gone out first. It wouldn’t have been expecting me to follow you.”
She gestured that away. “That wasn’t your fault. Next time we’ll both know better.” She hesitated. “It’s very odd, to think of fighting Fell with a consort’s help.”
Moon wanted to talk about the more important point. “If Malachite and the warriors killed all the rulers from the flight that attacked the colony in the east…”
Celadon said, “They did. All the rulers would have died, and they must have believed that Malachite also meant to kill the crossbreeds. There is no way another Fell flight could know she took them to the west with her,” she finished, her expression grim. “Someone would have had to tell the Fell afterward. Someone from our court.”
Stone said, “Then it looks like you’ve got a problem.”
Celadon met his gaze. “It wasn’t one of the crossbreeds. If they had heard the Fell speak in their heads, they would have told us.”
“They might not know,” Moon pointed out. “We know the Fell rulers share memories from flight to flight, but we don’t know how they do it. Or if it would work differently between rulers and crossbreed Raksura. Once this flight got close enough, the rulers could have sensed the crossbreeds without them knowing.”
Celadon frowned, thinking it over. “That could be it.”
Stone gave Moon an exasperated look. “That doesn’t explain why the flight came here in the first place.”
“Because they’re Fell.” Celadon gestured impatiently. “They go everywhere looking for groundlings to eat.”
“And they like soft eastern cities best. It’s not like there’s any shortage of groundlings back there.” Stone rubbed his forehead. “I don’t have any answers. I’m just trying to get you to realize these are important questions.”
“Yes. Yes, they are.” She looked away, letting out her breath in a long sigh. “I just don’t know what we should do.”
Neither did Moon.
Stone just groaned under his breath and moved over to lie down on a soft patch of grass. “I need a nap. Wake me when the food gets here.”
Chapter Eleven
Moon and Celadon and her warriors left the flying island at dawn the next morning. Stone stayed behind, telling Celadon that he wanted to scout the area, to try to find the resting site of the Fell flight. Moon just hoped he was careful.
Before they left, Stone took Moon aside to tell him, “You watch your back in that colony. Don’t trust any of those people.”
Fortunately, Celadon didn’t overhear.
It was a bright clear day which made for an uneventful flight, giving Moon plenty of leisure to worry, come up with various plans, and discard them. It was late afternoon by the time they reached the colony and he was no better off than he had been when they started.
But as they came over the ridge and within sight of the lower portion of the split mountain-tree, Moon hissed in surprise. Nestled between the wall and the slanting bulk of the trunk was what appeared at first glance to be a sailing ship out of water. It was a flying boat, a real one, a wind-ship of the Golden Isles.
At first Moon thought he was looking at either the Indala or the Valendera, but it w
as smaller than either, only fifty or so paces from bow to stern. It was tethered to the rocks and broken pillars below the colony’s landing platform, the long lacquered hull swaying in the wind, the fan-shaped sails furled and folded up into the mast. Several crew members stood on the deck, watching his approach. They were definitely Golden Islanders, all slim, most a little shorter than the average Arbora, with the distinctive golden skin. The sailors wore pants cropped at the knees and loose shirts, with scarves to contain their long white hair.
This had to be Delin’s ship, the one that had traveled with Stone’s group of warriors and Arbora, back from the Golden Isles. But what’s it doing here?
Moon dove for the ship. When he was close enough he tilted his wings to slow down and dropped lightly onto the deck. He furled his wings and shifted to groundling. Before he could speak, Chime darted from the steering cabin and flung himself at Moon.
Moon caught him, stumbled back a step as Chime hugged him tightly enough to stop his breath. “Are you all right?” Moon croaked out, startled. “What happened?”
“Me?” Chime let him go and stepped back, badly flustered. “The warriors here said you were sick!”
“What?” The word must have gotten around that Lithe had been called to help him the night Stone arrived. “I wasn’t sick, I was—” He really didn’t want to explain that right now. “Where’s Jade? What are you doing here?”
“She’s inside the colony, meeting with their queen.” Chime waved his arms. Past him, Moon saw three other familiar faces. In groundling form, Root, Song, and Floret hurried across the deck toward them. “What do you mean, what are we doing here? We came to get you.”
“But Jade sent Stone—”
“Because she couldn’t fly,” Floret said as she reached them. “Then the nice old groundling said he’d take her on this boat—”
“She means Delin,” Chime interposed. “We got here this morning, then the Raksura here wouldn’t tell us where you were, or where Stone was—”
Moon interrupted, “We were with Celadon. Is Jade meeting with Onyx or Malachite?”
“I don’t know.” Chime looked past him, frowning. Moon glanced back to see that Celadon had followed him down and now stood perched on the railing, shading her eyes to look up at the mast with its fan-folded sails. Her warriors must have gone ahead into the colony. “Who’s Celadon?”
“She’s my clutchmate.”
“Oh,” Chime said, startled and for some reason sounding pleased. “That’s good.” Song and Floret exchanged a relieved look.
Moon was in too much of a hurry to wonder about their odd reaction. “I’ll be back. I need to find Jade.”
He shifted and bounced back to the railing to land next to Celadon. “What is this thing?” she asked, looking down at the Islander crew, who stared at her with equal curiosity.
“Jade’s here.” Moon hoped he sounded mostly calm. “My queen, from Indigo Cloud.”
Celadon quirked her spines, bemused. “She travels on this contraption?”
“Just this time. She couldn’t fly; she was wounded.” Moon crouched and leapt across and down to the landing platform. The entrance doors already stood open, and a few Arbora and warriors gathered there, watching the flying boat as if they wanted to examine it more closely but weren’t certain of their welcome. As they hurriedly made way for Moon, Celadon caught up with him. She said, “I take it her arrival is a good thing.”
He remembered he hadn’t said anything to Celadon about Jade specifically, just that he wanted to leave Opal Night. “Yes.”
She watched him a moment, as if undergoing some inner debate. Abruptly she made a decision. “It’s probably Onyx who agreed to meet her. Come on.”
She led the way from the greeting hall and took the same passage that Rise had shown them when Moon had first arrived. As they passed the big opening into the central garden well, Moon heard voices and caught Jade’s scent just before they reached the queens’ greeting chamber.
The room was better lit than it had been that first night, glowing stones catching highlights in the carved images of the warriors and the queen arching across the ceiling. But all Moon could see was Jade, with Balm, seated across from Onyx and an array of Opal Night daughter queens and warriors.
Balm saw him first. At her startled intake of breath, everyone looked up.
Jade whipped around, then pushed to her feet. Her gaze went from Moon to Celadon, and her spines started to lift. Celadon’s started to lift in response.
It finally dawned on Moon why Chime and the other warriors had been so disturbed to see him with another queen. Exasperated, he said, “She’s my clutchmate.”
Jade’s spines froze. She looked from Celadon to Moon again, searching for that bloodline resemblance that only queens could see. The hard line of her jaw softened and her spines lowered. Celadon lowered her spines in response, with a tail twitch of amusement. She said, “I’m Celadon, daughter queen to Malachite of Opal Night.”
Jade said, “Jade, sister queen of Indigo Cloud.” Then she added, “I would like to speak to my consort in private.”
Onyx’s spines and tail twitched with irritation at the interruption. “He is no longer your consort.”
Jade’s lip curled, but before she could respond, Celadon said to Onyx, “And he’s not yours to order.” She glanced at Moon, then inclined her head to Jade. “Come to our consorts’ hall and you can speak to him there.”
Onyx lashed her tail but didn’t object.
Balm stood to accompany them, and gave Moon’s wrist a quick squeeze as she stepped past him. They followed the two queens through the empty passages, and Moon realized he had no idea what he was going to say to Jade, or what Jade was going to say to him.
“I’m surprised Onyx greeted you,” Celadon said to Jade. Moon was surprised, too. Jade had managed a bigger dent in Opal Night’s impenetrable surface than Tempest had, and in much less time. Celadon continued, “Onyx hasn’t wanted to involve herself in… this situation. She refused to greet the Emerald Twilight queen who brought Moon.”
“I think it was our flying boat,” Jade answered with a trace of wryness. “She was so curious, she had to ask about it.”
A few Arbora lurked in the passage, but the consorts’ hall itself was empty. Celadon told Moon, “I have to tell Malachite what we discovered in the city.” She glanced at Jade. “Don’t be long.”
Jade gave Celadon a nod and a noncommittal expression. Balm followed her out, and Moon found himself facing Jade. His heart pounded so hard he knew she could hear it.
Her expression was worried, the small blue scales above her brow furrowed with concern. “They said you were ill.”
He shook his head. “I just didn’t eat or sleep much for a while and it caught up with me.”
She lifted her brows. “Didn’t eat or sleep?”
“It was an accident.” He hoped that was the last time he had to explain that to anyone. “Stone said you were hurt, fighting a snatcher. Did your wing heal?”
“It’s fine now.” She shrugged the joint to demonstrate, but bit her lip as if holding back a wince.
“Let me see.”
She turned, and he stepped close to look, lifting her frills and flattened spines out of the way. The heavy joint that attached the folded weight of the wing to her back was lumpy instead of smooth and felt a little too warm, though the scales weren’t broken. She must have shifted back to her winged form too soon. He touched the lumpy spot carefully. “It’s still swollen along the bone here.”
Jade turned her head so he could see her profile. She was looking down, eyes hooded by the edge of the feathery protective membrane that substituted for eyelashes in the shifted form. “It was stupid. I let the thing get too close.”
Her voice sounded even, but he sensed the tension in her body, humming through her scales. He had missed Jade with his heart and every other part of him, but it hadn’t occurred to him that she might have missed him the same way. And if he stayed where he was
a moment more, they might end up wrapped together on the floor, no matter what Celadon and his Arbora chaperones thought.
As attractive as that possibility sounded, he suspected it wouldn’t help the situation with Malachite any.
When Jade reached up to touch his hand, he dropped her frills and stepped back. “Were the hunters all right?” His voice came out mostly even.
Jade turned slowly, watching him. “Yes. Frightened, but hopefully they’ve learned to be more careful.” She looked down, still worried. “So… do you like your birthcourt?”
“No. Some of them. I don’t know.” He didn’t mean to say it, but the words came out anyway. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
Jade didn’t seem surprised by that revelation, or angry, or anything that he expected. She sighed, her expression turning unhappy and resigned. “I know. That’s why I was so anxious to get here. Before she died, Flower told me you didn’t really trust us yet, that you were just… playing along. She said every time we proved to you that you could trust us was important, but that it would take a long time to make a real difference. She said it might be turns before you really saw yourself as one of us.”
“I thought I was…” Moon had to stop and clear his throat. It was brutally hard to be honest about this. “I thought I’d gotten better at it.” He was starting to realize that maybe he didn’t actually know the difference between trusting people and just pretending to trust them while bracing for the betrayal.
Jade smiled a little. “I think you have.” She shook her frills, as if shaking off the uncomfortable subject. “We had a plan to steal you. I take it that’s not necessary?”
Moon’s jaw dropped. “To steal me?”
“Yes. Delin volunteered to help, so it involved sending the flying boat off in one direction to distract them. We meant for Stone to have a part in it too, but I wasn’t sure where he was or if he’d managed to see you.”
Moon couldn’t believe she was serious, except apparently she was. “It sounds complicated.”