by Martha Wells
Malachite was also the only one who didn’t show any sign of surprise or agitation at Moon’s appearance. She indicated a pile of cushions a few paces from her side. It was a relief; Moon was trembling just from the walk here. He had drunk an entire pot of tea and eaten a little dry bread, but Auburn thought he should make sure that stayed down before he tried anything more substantial. Moon agreed with the advice, but lack of food made him cold and weak.
Moon went to the cushions and sat down, managing it with only a small thump when his legs gave out at the last moment. Malachite watched him, and he realized she had seen that he wore the ivory piece on a cord around his neck. She pulled her gaze away from it. “Get him another wrap.”
All the warriors twitched to obey the command but Rise was closest and got to her feet first. She brought Moon a silky blanket from the pile to one side of the room and he took it without protest.
As Rise returned to her seat, Malachite said, “You don’t have to be here.”
“I want to be here,” Moon said. His voice still came out hoarse and weak. “Did Auburn give you my message?”
“Yes.” Malachite’s tail tip flicked, the only sign of agitation or impatience that she had betrayed so far. “Why do you care so much about this groundling city?”
“Just because they’re vulnerable and too stupid to realize it doesn’t mean they should die.” He added deliberately, “And because I think you have a plan to use them as bait, so you can attack while the Fell are distracted.”
There was another stir in the room, an uneasy one this time, and Celadon’s spines trembled anxiously. That told Moon he was right. He hadn’t thought Malachite, who had rescued the remnants of her court and killed off an entire Fell flight into the bargain, would wait long before deciding what to do. Or that she would disregard an obvious advantage.
Malachite tilted her head and regarded him steadily. Moon forced himself not to drop his gaze. After a long moment, her tail tip flicked again and she said, “We’ll speak of that later.”
She looked away, and Moon tried to make his exhalation of relief silent. She said, “Bring Russet.”
Two of the younger Arbora got up and went out, to return a few moments later with Russet. She wasn’t restrained in any way, but she was surrounded by a group of young male and female Arbora, with the strong builds and rough practical clothing that usually indicated soldiers. Moon wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but after her furious reaction to being caught last night, Russet’s expression now surprised him. Her eyes were downcast, and she looked grave and sad.
The soldiers stepped away from her and went to sit down, leaving her in the center of the room, ten paces from Malachite.
One of the older Arbora said, “Three different mentors have looked into Russet’s mind, and whatever happened in the past, there is no Fell influence now.”
A sigh went through the Arbora, a shocked murmur through the warriors. Moon translated that to mean that the Arbora had been hoping against hope that Russet had been acting under Fell influence, and so was not responsible for anything she had done. The warriors had assumed that she was under Fell influence, that no Arbora would do this of her own volition. Moon thought she might have been influenced turns ago during the attack; she would have no memory of it. This might be what happened if the influence remained and the victim was never made aware of it, that it would do strange things to your thoughts, even after all trace of it finally faded. He was glad Balm wasn’t here to see this.
Russet looked up at the reaction, and her gaze fell on Moon. She went still for a moment, then looked down again.
It was Celadon who said, “This is your chance to speak for yourself, Russet. Tell us what happened.”
Russet drew a sharp breath, then said, “It started back then, at the eastern colony.” She stopped, clenching her jaw, as if speaking of it was painful. Moon felt the first creeping doubt that she was playacting, that the truth of her feelings was very different.
“Go on,” another Arbora said. They were all watching her, as still as if they were stalking prey. Some looked openly distressed, like Moss, but with the others it was hard to tell.
Russet wet her lips, and said, “I used to go out with the hunters, sometimes. One day I got separated from them. I met… a creature in the forest. I thought it was a groundling at first, then I realized it was a strange kind of shifter. It asked me questions. It… It’s easy to say I should have known. But it was hard not to answer. I don’t remember what it did, but I told it everything it wanted to know.” She swallowed. “It was a Fell ruler.”
It was all too possible. According to Feather, the court had never encountered Fell before. The first time Moon had seen Fell in the groundling city of Saraseil, he thought he might have been one of them.
“When they attacked, when they killed the soldiers and the other teachers to get to the nurseries, I knew they had been lying. Swift heard me beg them… She heard enough to know I had spoken to one before. They let me live; I don’t know why. I ran into Swift and she accused me… I lied to her, I told her I wasn’t the only one, that there were others. If she tried to tell anyone, it would be all of us against her, and no one would believe her.” She looked at Moon squarely for the first time. “She left, and I never saw her again. That must have been when she fled with you and the other children.”
Swift, Moon thought in the silence that followed. Swift who changed her name to Sorrow. In some ways, none of this was a surprise.
Then Malachite’s voice fell into the silence like a clatter of steel. “You’re lying.”
Russet stared at her. “I… No…”
Malachite’s claws flexed. “Swift was a young warrior, the only survivor of a sickly clutch who had not much distinguished herself in the court, but she was not a fool. Subsequent events proved she obviously didn’t lack for courage. You told her there were others who had turned against the court and would falsely accuse her, but I believe she also saw something that so appalled her that she fled with no hope of ever returning.”
As if she couldn’t contain herself a second longer, Feather burst out, “All the fledgling consorts were together with Yarrow. Why did Swift save Moon and not the others? What happened to Yarrow? Swift must have run across my—the Arbora babies on the way out, but if she had found more fledglings alive—” Feather’s fists clenched, as if she fought the urge not to shift and leap on Russet. “Why didn’t she take the others?”
There was a low chorus of hisses from the Arbora, as Feather’s words hit home. Celadon’s spines flared. Moon struggled to remember, focused on that one image that had surfaced when he had first met Feather, of clinging to Sorrow—to Swift as she flew, the others crying. But there was nothing else.
Malachite said, “Answer Feather’s question.”
Russet’s face twisted in fury. “I don’t know what Swift was thinking. How could I?”
“What were you thinking?” one of the other Arbora asked, harsh with anger. “If that was what happened, if you were tricked and deceived by the Fell, why didn’t you tell us? We could have forgiven you that. Especially later, with all we learned of them.”
“We could have forgiven you that,” Malachite said. “If that was all you did.” Her tail tip twitched. “There would be no reason to kill the only surviving consort of my last clutch, for terror of what he might know. There would be no reason for fear and guilt to eat you for all these turns, until there is nothing of you left but this shell.”
Feather persisted, “What did Swift see you do? You didn’t just tell the Fell how to get in. Did you take them to the fledgling consorts, hand them over to the rulers?” Her voice rose. “Did you kill Yarrow yourself?”
“Tell them,” Moon said, and his voice came out in that harsh croak. “Tell them what you did.”
Russet stared at him, then her face twisted, turning ugly and desperate. “It wasn’t me. The Fell forced me—”
“Tell them,” Moon repeated. “Or I will.” His heart thumped at
the chance he was taking. If she refused, he would have to admit he didn’t remember and they would never know what had happened.
Russet growled, then gasped out, “They promised they’d spare my children! My clutch, they were all warrior fledglings. But the Fell lied, they killed them, they didn’t want warriors—” She stopped, fighting for calm. “I had to kill the royal fledglings. I did it so the Fell wouldn’t get them. I did it—I did it—I wanted to hurt the Fell, and taking away what they wanted so badly was the only way. Yarrow tried to stop me, he didn’t understand. I killed him too. That’s what Swift saw. Moon was the only one left. She got him before the rulers could.”
Celadon turned to Moon. “You saw this?”
He shook his head, too cold inside to feel any victory. “I don’t remember it.”
Despair and fury warred on Russet’s face. She stared at Moon, her lips forming a silent snarl. “You said you did.”
“I’m a good liar too,” he told her.
Feather shifted and sprang. Moon had time to think that this would be the end of Russet, but Malachite was suddenly on her feet, in the center of the room. She caught Feather around the waist, held her easily despite the spines and flailing claws. Feather’s growl rose to a deep shout of rage. “I’ll kill her! Let me be the one to kill her!”
“No.” Malachite dropped her. Feather landed on her feet and crouched, snarling up at her. Then the snarl died away. Feather shifted to groundling, sat down hard, and buried her face in her hands. Malachite turned toward Russet.
Russet backed away, growling low. Malachite said, “You might have been tricked by the Fell in the past, but there was no trick when you poisoned the last consort of my bloodline.”
“You’ll kill me?” Russet bared her teeth and sneered up at her. “A queen kill an Arbora? The word will spread through the other courts—”
“Yes, it’s unheard of, almost unthinkable.” It was another Arbora who spoke. She stood and moved forward into the center of the room, and stopped beside Feather. Her skin was tinted gray with age and her gray hair had streaks of pure white. She gazed at Russet, her face set with cold condemnation. “Like an Arbora killing another Arbora, killing fledglings, killing a consort. You were a teacher.” She almost spat the word. “What have you become now?”
Russet snarled, her expression twitching through fury, desperation, despair, and back. “I… I did…” She snarled, “I did what I had to!”
The older Arbora said to Malachite, “You’re right. It’s this or exile, and she has reason to hate all of us now that we know her secret. We could never feel safe again.” She leaned down, caught Feather’s wrist, and hauled her up and away from Malachite.
Malachite swept the room with a glance, but there were no objections. All the Arbora watched her, waiting.
Russet broke and lunged away. Malachite moved so swiftly Moon didn’t realize it until he heard the crack of bone snapping. Russet collapsed, a limp heap. Moon heard the sigh as the last breath left her lungs.
Moon didn’t flinch, his reactions slowed by the aftereffects of the poison, but he was the only one. A low hiss sounded through the room, of dismay, relief, sorrow.
Malachite turned away. A few of the Arbora stood, one draped a blanket over the body, and they began to gather it up. The others spoke quietly, sadly.
Moon didn’t feel any satisfaction; mostly what he felt was emptiness. Swift had seen terrible things. Not knowing that the Fell could influence Raksuran minds, it must have been a profound shock. She must have thought everyone in the court had gone mad. If she hadn’t, she would have tried to look for other survivors, and your life would have been completely different. He had no idea how he felt about that. It seemed pointless to feel anything about it at all. He looked up to realize Malachite stood over him. She said, “Go and rest now.”
She showed absolutely no sign, in her eyes or expression or body language, that she had just killed an Arbora. All the others in the room, warriors and Arbora alike, even though they had known what was coming and supported it, were either as shocked as if the floor had just collapsed under them or looked as drained and worn as if they had been ill for months. Moon pushed those thoughts aside. “I want to talk to you about the Fell.”
“You need to rest, or you’ll be unable to do anything including talk.” After a moment, she flicked a spine in resignation. “I’ll make no decision about the groundling city today. We’ll speak of it tomorrow morning.”
He knew it was a concession, but he wasn’t sure it was enough. “Is there time?”
“There should be,” Celadon said. “Our last report from the scouts said that the Fell haven’t moved toward the city yet.”
Yet, Moon thought, but he didn’t protest when Auburn came to help him to his feet.
Chapter Fourteen
Moon got to his feet slowly and left with Auburn. Just outside the queens’ chamber they were joined by Chime, who had been hiding in the passage. No one said anything, and as they made their way through the corridors, the whole colony was quiet and somber. Moon was thinking that he would need to send Chime with a message for Jade; he needed to talk to her for a number of different reasons, but he didn’t think he could make the walk to the flying boat right now. So it was a relief when they reached the consorts’ hall and he saw that Jade sat beside the hearth with Stone.
Jade stood. Her gaze swept over him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was on his feet and moving. “Are you all right?”
He nodded, and drew the robe around him more tightly. He was shivering and still felt feverish. “Malachite killed her.”
Jade took a sharp breath. “I see.”
Stone grimaced and took the kettle off the hearth to pour tea. “It’s a bad thing, but I don’t see that Malachite had a choice.”
“Russet admitted everything,” Auburn said, and steadied Moon as he sank down to sit on a pile of handy cushions. “Well, almost everything. But she was under no Fell influence.”
Jade sat next to Moon, watching him with concern. Then her brows lifted. She touched the ivory disk on his chest with a delicate claw, frowning. “What is that?”
“Malachite gave it to me.” Moon turned it so she could see the stain. “It’s got blood on it, so…”
“Oh.” Jade withdrew her hand, her spines flicking in consternation. Then she asked, “Did Russet say what it was that she was afraid you had remembered?”
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse again. Moon took the cup of tea Stone passed him and drank it before he told her what Russet had said. “I must have seen her kill the others, but I don’t remember anything.”
“Did you know Russet?” Chime asked Auburn. “I mean, was she your friend, or…”
“I don’t know why she would do this,” Auburn answered the unspoken question. He looked drawn and weary. “I think the realization of what she had done, the guilt and the fear of it being revealed, the deaths of so many in the court… I think it turned her mind, and she was canny enough to hide it from us all this time. I don’t think the real Russet, the Russet we knew, survived the attack.”
Everyone was silent as they considered that uncomfortable thought.
Jade stirred and tugged absently at the hem of a cushion. “But it can’t be her who told the new Fell flight about the crossbreeds. If they had no connection with her mind…”
Stone rubbed his eyes wearily. “It means there’s someone else here who did.”
Auburn’s expression was even more grim. “The mentors are searching among those who returned from the old colony.” He shook his head. “After all this time, and the death of the Fell rulers, I don’t think an influence could have lasted. It didn’t with Russet.”
Moon heard light steps in the passage, then Lithe appeared in the doorway. He assumed she was here to take Auburn’s place, but she hesitated a moment. “I wanted to speak to you all, about the Fell.”
Jade glanced at Moon, and he nodded. She told Lithe, “Come and sit down.”
Lithe cros
sed behind Auburn and took a seat on a cushion, facing them all. She took a deep breath. “I’m under suspicion, because the ruler hiding in the groundling city told Celadon that the Fell came here for crossbreeds. Everyone wonders why this flight came here, now, after so long, if they weren’t called by one of us. By a crossbreed. Because I’m a mentor, I’m the most likely.”
It might be most likely, but Moon doubted it. Maybe that made him a fool, but he just couldn’t see Lithe as a Fell spy. Part of it was her physical appearance; she didn’t look any more like the groundling form of a dakti than Moon or Jade did. The other factor was the look in her eyes. She didn’t have that Fell emptiness, the feeling that you were talking to a shell that was only intermittently filled with personality. He had seen too many rulers close up to mistake that.
He reminded himself that Russet hadn’t seemed suspicious, either.
Jade tilted her head, watching Lithe with a thoughtful intensity. Lithe didn’t flinch from it, but the bronze of her cheeks darkened in a flush. Jade said, “But why would you? You don’t seem to have been badly treated here.”
“I haven’t been, Malachite made sure of that. This is my home, my court, why should I betray it?” Lithe spread her hands. “But I’m half-Fell. It’s not that I don’t understand their suspicion. Somehow this flight knows about us, knows that we’re here. Malachite is certain none of the rulers of the flight that attacked us survived. We should have no connection to the Fell, no way for them to find us.”
Stone said, “The Fell know their own. Rulers can sense each other over long distances.”
“But I would feel it,” Lithe protested. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m a mentor. I would know. I’m sure I would. And if they can’t touch my mind, how could they touch any of the others, who have no mentor senses?”