by Martha Wells
Moon wasn’t glad to see her. He had felt an instant connection with Feather, but Russet just seemed like a nosy stranger. He said, “Unless it’s about the Fell, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”
But she asked, “Do you remember me? From before, from the old colony.”
“No. I didn’t remember anyone here.” Her expression didn’t give away anything, but he felt like he might be insulting her. He added, “When Feather was telling me what happened, I thought I remembered it, just for an instant, but it went away.”
Her lips pressed together. Then she went to the other side of the bowl hearth and crouched down to collect the used tea cups. Guilt made Moon ask, “Did you take care of me?”
Her brow furrowed as she studied a cup. “No. I was in the nurseries, but it was Feather and Yarrow and Twist who took care of the royal clutch.”
So many of the Arbora must have lost their own children. “Who did you lose?”
She looked away, and now her expression was angry and bitter. “Everyone.”
There was a faint rustle from outside the door as someone tried to make their presence known before they approached. A moment later an older male warrior stepped in. He radiated awkwardness and discomfort, so Moon assumed he hadn’t come to attack anybody. The warrior nodded to Russet, then faced Moon and said, “Umber asks that you come to the consorts’ hall. The other consorts’ hall. He wants to speak with you.”
Moon might have refused, but it would provide a quick exit from Russet’s uneasy company. He got to his feet and said, “Let’s go.”
The other consorts’ hall was larger, made up of several interconnected chambers with passages branching off to lead to the bowers. Small balconies, some draped with climbing vines, looked down from the upper part of the room. The carving went up the walls in waves, shapes that were meant to symbolize the wind, with Aeriat in flight flowing along the ceilings.
The warrior took Moon through the main living chambers, past the curious eyes of several young consorts, up a curving stair to a smaller sitting area halfway up the wall. It looked down on the room below, and had an opening into the central well, with a view of the waterfall. The space was floored with cushions and seating mats in rich materials. Umber waited there in his groundling form, wearing a dark robe woven with intricate patterns.
Moon sat across from him. Another young consort immediately brought tea and a plate of flatbread, sliced meat, and fruit.
Umber said, “I was told about what happened in the council. Even after all these turns, Malachite is still… enraged at the Fell attack.”
Moon took a drink of tea to give himself a chance to think of an answer that wouldn’t get him kicked out of the hall. He just said, “I noticed.”
Umber wasn’t fooled. “I don’t think you realize that she does prize you greatly. You were part of her last clutch, and Celadon is the only other survivor. She hasn’t taken another consort since returning from the east.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
Umber smiled. “She carried you in her body. She knows everything she needs to know.”
Moon didn’t have an answer for that one.
Umber regarded him thoughtfully. “Onyx wants me to ask if you would consider accepting a queen from our bloodline. Her name is Ivory. She has a warrior clutchmate named Saffron, who was sent to retrieve you from the groundlings. When you threw her off the ship, Ivory was greatly intrigued.”
“I didn’t throw her off.” If Moon had thrown her off the boat, Saffron wouldn’t be in any condition to gossip about it to her royal clutchmate.
“As you say.” Umber made it clear he wasn’t going to argue the wording. “Ivory said that she would agree to take you if asked, and to overlook the fact that you had already been taken by another queen. The bloodlines are close, but not unacceptably so.”
Moon considered Umber. The older consort didn’t seem particularly interested in the proposal he had just relayed. “And what do you think?”
“I think she’s too young and foolish for you,” Umber said frankly. “She would see you as a challenge. You would see her as an enemy. It would be a disaster.”
It sounded like a disaster. Moon said, “Then my answer is no.”
“I’ll tell Onyx.” Umber poured more tea.
So that was that, apparently. Moon said, “I thought the idea was that I’d be sent to a queen in another court for an alliance.”
“Opal Night has all the alliances it needs. And I know Malachite would prefer you to stay here.”
“I didn’t think I was welcome in this court.” Moon cast a significant glance down at the young consorts who gathered around the hearth in the chamber below. The ones caught staring up at Moon and Umber all self-consciously looked away.
Umber followed Moon’s gaze. With an ironic air, he said, “They’ve heard by now how important you are to Malachite. I doubt they’ll treat you as an interloper again.” He added, “Because Ivory is inappropriate doesn’t mean there isn’t a daughter queen in our court for you.”
Until that instant Moon hadn’t been aware that he had been trying to make a decision. “Maybe. But I’m already taken.” And he thought, So it wasn’t that difficult a decision after all.
After Moon left Umber, he went to the colony’s main entrance. Twilight was falling into a cool evening, the sky’s blue darkening to indigo and the first stars coming out. Lights glowed on either side of the big doorway, echoed by the flicker of lamps aboard Delin’s ship. Warriors still gathered around the entrance hall, but no one tried to stop Moon when he went outside.
Moon shifted just long enough to make the long leap up to the ship. He hit the railing a little too hard and the wood vibrated. A couple of sailors on watch stood up in alarm, then relaxed as soon as Moon swung down onto the deck and shifted to groundling. One lifted a hand in greeting, and called out in Altanic, “The others are below!”
Moon waved back and went to the hatchway to take the steps down. Still trying to think what he was going to say to Jade, he was caught by surprise when he stepped into the corridor and she whipped out of a doorway.
She froze in surprise. “Oh. I thought it was one of their warriors. With a message.”
“No. It’s me.” They stared at each other for a moment.
Delin appeared in the doorway Jade had just burst out of, lifted his brows, then stepped back in and slid the door shut. Moon heard the other Raksura demanding to know who was here, then frantic shushing.
Jade twitched her spines nervously, then turned down the corridor. “We can talk back here.”
She led him down the passage to a large cabin. From the belongings strewn about and the blankets heaped up in the corners, Moon guessed this was where the Raksura had been sleeping on the journey.
Jade pulled a folded blanket around for him to sit on, then took one for herself. As soon as they were both seated, Jade said, “I’m sorry. That didn’t work out at all like I expected. And it didn’t say much for my ability to negotiate with other courts.”
Moon shook his head a little. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Jade hesitated. “I don’t want you to feel as if… I told Malachite the truth. I took you for a consort because I wanted you. Not because it was the only option, or because I thought there might be a future alliance.”
“It was the only option,” Moon reminded her. “The Arbora wouldn’t agree to leave the old colony unless you had a consort. That was the whole reason Stone went to look for one.”
“Not once the Fell attacked. If any of the Arbora had demanded to stay at the old colony after that, Pearl would have been happy to leave them there.”
That didn’t seem like much of an option, and he didn’t think Pearl, let alone Jade, would have been willing to risk it. “So I was the first consort you’d ever seen that you weren’t related to. It doesn’t matter,” he said, when she drew breath to object. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right.” She bared her teeth. “If
I could prove it to you, I would.”
Moon rubbed his eyes. A clutch would prove it, but Jade was obviously unwilling to admit that he couldn’t provide one. “You don’t have to prove it.”
“I could steal you.”
He started to say that wasn’t funny anymore, but her expression stopped the words. The last time he had seen that look in her eyes, he had had to talk her out of killing Tempest’s sister Halcyon. He said, “You can’t steal me. Not from Malachite.”
With complete conviction, she said, “I can.”
It was tempting, but they just didn’t have time for it. Moon made his voice hard. “The Fell are about to attack the Reaches. If you try to steal me in the middle of this, I will make sure you never sleep again.”
Jade’s eyes narrowed. “I have help.”
“Who, the warriors?” Moon snorted in derision. “That’s funny.”
Jade held his gaze for a long moment, a growl in her throat. Then her shoulders and spines relaxed in defeat and she looked away. “Well. What do you want to do?”
“It’s nice to be asked, for once.” And it would be easier to answer if he had any idea what he should do. “I can’t leave here until the Fell flight is dead.”
“I can offer to help fight them in exchange for you.” Jade propped her chin on her hand, and her expression turned ironic. “That should go over well. I think your birthqueen hates me only slightly less than the Fell who attacked your court in the first place.”
Moon would have argued that, except it might well be true. “It’s hard to tell with her.”
“It wasn’t that hard to tell.” Jade’s expression went from ironic to sour. “Stone is furious with me.”
“Are you sure? Maybe he was just furious in general.”
“No, he was furious in particular.” Jade seemed glumly certain of it. “He didn’t like how I handled the whole thing. It’s made me realize I don’t know as much about being a queen as I think I do.”
He remembered again that Jade was young, maybe even younger than he was. It had always been hard for him to judge Raksuran age, especially since number of turns lived didn’t always equal maturity. But that was true for groundlings, too. “I think you know a lot about being a queen, it’s just…” He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage away an incipient headache. It had been a long and very tense day. “Not helpful in this situation. Where’s Stone now?”
“He went off to sulk.” She watched him worriedly. “Did you eat today? Did you stop eating again?”
“I did not stop eating,” he said, irritated. “I flew most of today, I’m tired.”
“Yes, but…” Jade didn’t finish. She took his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you something anyway.”
She led him down the passage to the ship’s common room and slid the door open. Delin, Chime, Balm, Floret, Root, and Song all sat around the low table, and the conversation stopped abruptly when Moon and Jade appeared. There were dishes on the table, and from the bones stacked on a platter, they had been eating a fresh kill. It wasn’t surprising, since Delin was one of the few groundlings who wouldn’t be disturbed by watching Raksura eat raw meat, but the sight made Moon queasy and his stomach twinged in a painful way that wasn’t hunger. Great, you did make yourself sick again, he thought. He wasn’t certain how, since he had eaten with Celadon, Stone, and the warriors just this morning.
Everyone watched them worriedly, and Chime said, “Everything all right?”
“Yes.” Moon took a seat next to him, and picked up the nearest cup to see what was in it.
Balm passed him a carafe of water. “We were talking about the groundling city, and what we can do.”
Delin said, “I’ve been thinking about these Aventerans, their refusal to see the danger. If I spoke to them, perhaps it would help.”
Moon asked, “You think they’d believe another groundling when they didn’t believe us?”
“Perhaps. And, from what you described, I’m not entirely sure that they didn’t believe you.” Delin shrugged. “They may not have wanted to appear any more vulnerable than they already were.”
“Maybe.” As much as Moon didn’t like the Aventerans, it would be a relief to know they were prepared for the Fell. “If we go there, don’t tell them how your flying boat works.”
Delin lifted his brows. “You think they will attempt to steal our sustainer?”
“No. Maybe.” Moon rubbed his temple. There was a tight pain across his forehead. “I just don’t think you should trust them.”
“Moon, are you all right?” Chime’s voice was oddly sharp. “You don’t look well.”
“He’s right, Moon.” Jade touched his face. “Your skin is turning gray.”
“No, I’m tired…” he started to say, and thought, and weak, and too warm, and… “I think I’m sick.”
It came on just like it had before. A dark wave of dizziness and nausea flowed over him and he was suddenly stretched out on the floor. Balm held his head while Jade leaned over him. Her voice hard with tension, Jade said, “Chime, what kind of sickness is this?”
Chime put his ear to Moon’s chest. “His lungs are clear.” He put a hand on Moon’s stomach, and Moon reflexively snarled and knocked it away before he even realized how much it hurt.
“Moon, look at me!” Chime’s voice snapped.
Moon blinked and focused on him. Chime peered at him closely, then laid a hand on his neck. “He’s too cold.”
“He’s been ill,” Jade said. “When Stone first got here—”
Delin said, “He was fine moments ago. Chime, do your people get ill this quickly?”
“No, no, they don’t. If it’s a sickness, it’s a bad one.”
“What you mean ‘if’?” Floret said. “Look at him!”
“He may be poisoned.” Delin took Moon firmly by the chin, making sure he had his attention. “You need to vomit. You understand?”
“Poisoned?” That was Balm, sounding incredulous. “How would he get poisoned?”
Somewhere in the back, Root said, “I didn’t know we could get poisoned. Except the Fell poison.”
“This isn’t Fell poison,” Song told him impatiently.
“I know that, I’m just saying—”
Jade snapped, “Shut up, all of you, except Delin and Chime!”
“Get a bucket!” Delin yelled at someone. “If it’s poison, this may help. If it’s sickness, it won’t hurt.”
“He’s right.” Chime grabbed hold of Moon’s arm and hauled him upright. An Islander crewman hurried over, plunking down a woven reed bucket.
Moon decided to side with Delin and Chime, but he wanted to take care of the matter without any help. He shook off Chime, warned the others away with a growl, and grabbed the bucket. He had to stick his finger down his throat, but he managed it. Coughing and choking afterward, he knew Delin was right. What had been in his stomach was far too bitter and acidic.
When he had got rid of all he could, he slumped sideways. Jade caught him and eased him down to the deck. Moon curled on his side, the wood cool against his cheek. He wasn’t sure he felt better. Chime and Delin snatched the bucket together and both sniffed at the contents. Chime shook his head, and Delin looked puzzled.
“Get water!” Someone called out.
“No, not water,” Chime said. “Something thick.”
“Get a bottle of atra,” Delin told one of the hovering crew members. He explained to the others, “It’s a plant milk, with opposite properties to that of acidic substances.”
“You think this is a—” Chime hesitated. “I don’t know the word in Altanic. Like a venom?”
“Possibly.”
An Islander appeared with a light ceramic bottle. Jade helped Moon sit up and held it steady for him, as Delin instructed, “Drink only a little.”
Moon tasted it cautiously. It was milky but with a faint sweetness underneath. He remembered the simple Lithe had made had been thick and milky, and that it had helped, so he drank a few swal
lows. At first it felt like it was going to come right back up, but then the cramps eased.
Jade said, “We need a mentor. Balm, go into the colony and—”
“No.” Moon’s voice sounded rough and weak. He knew Delin’s remedy might be temporary, and he had to know who had done this. “I need to go back inside. To the bower, where I was staying.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jade carried Moon back to the colony and up through the passages to the consorts’ hall, but Moon was barely aware of it. The world had narrowed down to the pain in his gut and the effort it took to draw breath.
Awareness returned when Moon felt someone lay the back of a warm scaled hand against his forehead. He knew it was Malachite, not Jade or Celadon. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did.
He opened bleary eyes and saw the carved ceiling of his bower. People looked down at him from all around, Jade at one side, Chime and Delin at the other. Past them he saw Lithe and two older Arbora who might be mentors. He hoped they were mentors. He heard Celadon speak quietly to someone. Everyone looked worried. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember why he had wanted to be brought back here.
He heard Jade ask, “What kind of simple did you give him before?” Her voice was rough.
Lithe answered, “It’s for calming the stomach, for people who get so ill they can’t eat.” She sounded desperate. “But if this is really a poison, that simple won’t work.”
“It worked before,” Celadon said, sounding as if she were fighting to keep a tight hold on her frustration. “Can’t you try it again?”
“She can try it,” Delin said, his voice soft and patient as he carefully pronounced the words in Raksuran. “But we already gave him a plant milk, which has a similar purpose, and it hasn’t truly helped. Whoever did this must have found out that her remedy countered it, and increased the amount greatly.”
One of the other Arbora said, “The groundling scholar is right. We have to find out what it is before we can treat it.”