by Martha Wells
“I’m trying to think of a way to avoid that part,” Moon admitted. It would be better to use this as a means of escape, not a way to die spectacularly and take as many Fell with them as possible. But that depended on what the Fell wanted with them.
A thump on the deck above made them both flinch. The wood creaked with the movement of something heavy. Moon shifted, Chime a beat behind him. Moon started for the door, then turned back to shove the weapon at Chime and motion frantically for him to hide it. Moon might regret that, but he thought if the Fell meant to just come in here and eat them all, they would have done it before now.
Chime scooped up the box of projectiles and turned to the cabinets on the far side of the cabin. Moon stepped out into the passage as Lithe and Shade hurried back from the hold area. Floret and Saffron stood at the bottom of the stairs, their spines flared. Floret whispered, “I think it’s a kethel.”
The creaking above ceased abruptly, and Moon felt rather than heard the change in the air as the creature shifted. Heavy footsteps crossed the deck toward the stairs.
“Get back,” Moon told them. He was thinking that two female warriors more or less wouldn’t matter to the Fell and the kethel might just kill both of them if they were within reach. Both hesitated, and he snarled, “Now.”
They moved away, reluctantly, as a kethel in groundling form stamped down the stairs.
Its body was big and muscular, more than a head taller than Moon and twice as wide. It wore no clothing except for a silver chain around its neck. Its skin was pale like the rulers, but there the resemblance ended. Its face was bony and the dark eyes were deep-set under a heavy brow. It had long yellow fangs, distended enough to make sores in its lower lip. Its gaze went to Moon and its expression went blank. Its mouth fell open, its throat worked, and a deep voice like gravel and broken glass said, “The crossbreed consort will come with me.”
Saffron hissed and Floret twitched. Moon bared his fangs. That was a ruler speaking through the kethel, and probably seeing through its eyes as well. Moon said, “No, he won’t.”
Moon didn’t expect the creature to accept that as an answer. The kethel surged forward, swinging an arm to fling him out of the way. Even in groundling form it was still a kethel, and Moon knew it could crush him if he closed with it. He ducked under its arm and lunged at its throat. Moving faster than he had thought possible, it jerked back and caught him by the shoulder. Moon sunk his claws into its arm and hand, but he could barely penetrate its tough skin.
Then the air changed as Shade shifted behind him. Shade reached over Moon’s shoulder, dug claws into the kethel’s wrist and twisted. The kethel snarled in pain and released Moon, jerked its hand free and fell back a step.
Moon glanced at Shade to make certain he was ready if the creature charged them. Then he did a double-take.
This was the first time he had seen Shade’s shifted form. The shock of it was like a punch to the face.
Shade was big, as big as the kethel’s groundling form, and he looked like a Fell ruler. Shade bared his teeth at the kethel, revealing an impressive array of fangs. He said, “Go away.”
The kethel made a half-hearted growl, but it was clear from its expression that the ruler no longer had control over it, and that the kethel had never seen anything like Shade. Baffled, it backed away, then climbed the stairs.
They heard the thumps of its feet on the deck, then the boat jerked as it shifted and leapt away.
Chapter Seventeen
Moon stared at Shade. It took an effort of will not to step back and growl. The others stared too, except for Saffron, whose spines flicked in embarrassment and Lithe, who just looked frightened. Shade didn’t notice at first, his gaze on the ceiling as he tracked the kethel’s movements until it left the boat. He turned to Moon. “Why did it…” His voice trailed off as he realized what the silence in the cabin meant.
He twitched self-consciously and shifted, his dark armored body flowing into his smaller groundling form. He watched Moon warily, like someone who expected the worst.
Moon recognized that expression because he was pretty certain it had been on his face every time he had been forced to shift in front of someone who had thought he was just another groundling. And the worst was always what had happened. He belatedly shifted too, so Shade wouldn’t think he was going to attack him. He said, “That’s…”
“It’s how I’ve always been.” Shade’s shoulders hunched in misery. “Did the kethel leave because it thought I was a ruler?”
Moon hadn’t had much trouble with Shade’s groundling skin color. Maybe because he was used to seeing so many varieties of groundling, and Shade’s whole demeanor was so unlike a Fell’s, that after the first initial surprise the comparison seemed ridiculous. But this… This he had a problem with. And he needed to get past it, now, before the Fell returned. Because if the kethel had been intimidated by Shade, the other Fell might be too, and that could give them far more of an advantage than a weapon that might or might not be able to start a fire at a distance. “Can you shift again? So I can see?”
Shade met his gaze, startled. Then he shifted.
Moon stayed in groundling form, and made himself look, really look. After a moment, it was clear Shade’s form wasn’t as much like a ruler’s as the first shocked glance had suggested.
He might be as big and muscular as a kethel’s groundling body, but his mass was more elegantly proportioned, an Aeriat Raksura’s proportions. He had scales, the correct deep black of a consort, but more reflective and without any color undersheen, or color banding on his claws. The scales seemed to stand out more, giving them a cursory resemblance to a ruler’s armor. He did have a ruler’s armored crest, but it was smaller, less prominent. He also had a substantial mane of spines and frills sprouting from the base of it, though it was hard to tell, since his spines were self-consciously flat at the moment. Moon was starting to realize what groundlings had felt like when they had caught glimpses of his shifted form and mistaken him for a Fell. “You don’t… I don’t know what you look like, but it’s not a ruler.”
That wasn’t the most coherent thing he could have said, but Shade seemed to understand. His large array of spines rippled in relief, and he showed Moon the underside of his forearm. “I have ridges on my scales.”
Moon leaned in to look, then took Shade’s arm and felt his scales. The texture was different, rough rather than smooth. Not unpleasant, just different. Moon stepped back, bumping into Chime who had been edging forward for a closer look. He asked Lithe, “Are you like this?”
She twitched a little nervously, but shifted. Her shape was like an Arbora’s, with no extra crest, spines, fangs, or bulk, but her scales were a consort’s black, and the same texture as Shade’s. She said, “The kethel just wanted Shade, not me. I don’t understand that.”
“You’re a crossbreed mentor,” Chime said. He didn’t seem as disturbed by Shade’s and Lithe’s appearance as he had before, and neither did Floret. Maybe they were taking Moon’s reaction as a guide, or maybe getting it out in the open and talking about it had been the right thing to do. Chime continued, “Maybe they’re afraid of you. They might think you could keep them from shifting, like the mentor-dakti did to us.” Lithe frowned, startled and thoughtful. Chime added hopefully, “Could you?”
That she might have this ability had clearly never occurred to Lithe. “I don’t think so.”
“But you haven’t tried?”
“Try,” Moon told her.
Above them the deck thumped, a much lighter sound than when the kethel had landed. Everyone’s gaze went to the hatch. Moon shifted to his winged form. This will be it. But there were no other thumps, no scratching on the deck as dakti landed. The ruler was approaching alone.
As it came down the steps, Moon recognized it. It was the older ruler who had been on the groundling bladder-boat.
Then the image of Liheas filled Moon’s memory, so vivid that bile rose in his throat. There had been no sign yet that this fli
ght knew anything of the flight that had stalked Indigo Cloud and Sky Copper, but if they knew of that, or had had some connection…
The ruler said, “I am Thedes.” Its gaze went to Shade, a long penetrating study, then to Lithe, then back to Shade. “The progenitor would speak with the crossbreed consort.”
Shade’s spines trembled nervously, and he looked at Moon. The kethel saw Shade shift, and now they know which one of us they want, Moon thought. Shade said, “No.”
“You will not be harmed. Or touched.” There was no emotion in the words. Thedes might not have known what they meant. It didn’t inspire confidence in the truth of the statement.
Moon said, “Did you say that to the groundlings at Aventera?”
Thedes focused on Moon. There was a brief flicker of what might have been indulgent amusement in the dark eyes. Moon didn’t believe it. Thedes was old enough to know how to mimic emotions his prey might find reassuring. Thedes said, “They were groundlings. We don’t pretend they are people.”
“You don’t pretend we’re people, either.”
Thedes’s empty gaze returned to Shade. “We treat you as we treat each other.”
Moon swallowed a frustrated hiss. Trying to argue with that statement would be like fighting your way out of a branch spider’s web, mostly because it was probably true. The Fell didn’t treat each other gently, either.
The ruler waited for Moon to reply, then said to Shade, “We have let you keep your wounded, and the warriors and the mentor.” This was said as if it was a completely meaningless indulgence. “We have been generous and kind. You deserve our kindness.” He inclined his head toward Moon. “The older consort may accompany you.”
Moon didn’t let his spines flatten. He had been expecting a threat, and it wasn’t as if the Fell couldn’t drag them all out of the boat if they wanted. Shade glanced at Moon for help, and Moon flicked a spine in assent.
Shade said to the ruler. “I’ll go.” Then he steeled himself with obvious effort. “Moon doesn’t have to come with me.”
Moon knew he could tell himself he had to stay behind to help defend the wounded since Thedes’s word to spare them was worth less than nothing. But the idea of letting Shade walk out of here alone to face whatever he had to face made a painful knot in his chest. Shade might look like a predator, but he had been gently raised and protected and indulged, and he had little idea of what might happen. And Moon had been abandoned so many times, he just didn’t want Shade to know what that felt like. “I’ll go,” Moon said.
Shade tried not to react but a betraying ripple of relief fluttered through his spines.
Thedes turned away and started up the stairs. Moon stepped close to Floret and Chime and mouthed the words, “If we don’t come back, use the weapon.” Chime looked horrified but Floret nodded a determined assent. Then Moon and Shade followed Thedes.
As they reached the deck, Shade asked Thedes, “How did you know about me and the others? The crossbreeds? How did you know about what happened to Opal Night?”
“Our guide told us. When you see it, you will understand,” Thedes said, then sprang off the deck.
Shade threw a nervous glance at Moon. Moon tried to look reassuring, but thought the most he managed was grim resignation. They followed Thedes.
The ruler headed toward the large mass Moon had seen earlier, making his way over to it by springing to and from the web-like supports that stretched across the dim space. As Moon leapt after him, the sticky texture of the supports reminded him of the parasites’ webs inside the leviathan’s body; it made the skin creep under his scales.
They dropped down onto the top of the structure, and Moon realized it must be a nest. The surface was unpleasantly crunchy underfoot, and made of debris stuck together with the same secretions as the supports. The horrific smell was even worse, Fell stench combined with death and rotting plants. Following Thedes across the uneven surface, Moon saw deadfall wood of various trees, some with withered leaves still attached, hewn planks that might have come from dwellings or ships, bits of carved wood, broken metal fragments, torn cloth. And bones, he realized, as he stepped over something that looked very like a groundling’s ribcage.
There were more remains around the entrance, a round doorway in the top that led down into the structure. The bones weren’t ornamental, Moon decided as he climbed down the half-stair half-ladder of secretion-covered debris. The placement of long bones, skulls and jaw fragments was entirely random. He had seen kethel wear scalps or bones as decorations, but these looked like they were no more prized than the scrap wood.
Light came from various sources, all of which must have been looted from groundlings: a chased metal container with a glowing ball inside, that flickered madly as whatever powered it failed, glowing plant material packed into wicker boxes, some glowing mineral blocks like the ones Moon had seen in the turning city in the eastern mountains. Thedes led them through a maze of small chambers and dim passages, spiraling down through the multiple levels of the nest. The deeper they went, the more Moon sensed movement all around them, hidden in the dark, bodies drawing breath and pumping blood, waiting and watching. But the only clear sound was his own heart pounding and the hitch of fear in Shade’s breath.
Then the passage turned into a steep slope down into a larger chamber. One side was supported with the wooden frame and partial wall of a groundling ship, either a water-going vessel or a flying one, it was hard to tell. The dark wooden planking on the wall still showed signs of faded paint, and had a round window with silver studs. The other half of the room was supported by giant arches of bone, the ribcage of some large creature as big as a… kethel, Moon thought, suddenly realizing what he was looking at. Part of the chamber was made out of the body cavity of a dead kethel.
Thedes led them further in, to where the floor became a series of broad uneven steps, curving down toward the far end. Fell lounged in the shadows everywhere. Moon was braced to see crossbreeds, but the dakti he could spot looked like ordinary Fell. Some were in their groundling forms, naked, their bodies small and thin with light skin, matted dark hair, and rough features. They stared at Moon and Shade with dark eyes and identical expressions of hungry interest.
Then the room curved around and Moon saw the progenitor.
She sat on a pile of rich fabrics and clothing looted from groundling prey. Even curled into a sitting position, he could tell she was much larger than the one other progenitor he had had the misfortune to see. Her scales were black, her leathery wings wrapped around her body, and she looked like a ruler with a smaller head crest and a softer texture to her armored scales. But he thought she would be at least a head taller than Thedes. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if she was older, more powerful.
Several younger rulers gathered in front of her, with more scattered clothing for cushions. Their white skin seemed to shine in the dimness of the room, their dark hair like falls of silk, framing the cold, perfect beauty of their features.
A quiver of movement drew Moon’s gaze to the shapes that lay piled on the floor behind the rulers. As he realized what they were, the sharp shock cleared his thoughts. He made himself focus on the fine clothes the rulers wore, some in tatters, relics from their previous feeding, some new brocades that came from their prey at Aventera. Made himself remember that the beauty was a lie and a trap, a mask to hide blind predatory hunger.
He slid a sideways glance at Shade, wondering if Shade’s blood made him immune or easier prey to the Fell influence. He nudged Shade’s arm, and tilted his head toward the pile.
Shade twitched, stared, and made a choked-off noise of distress.
The shapes tumbled there were slender bodies with pale gray skin: dead male and female Aventerans, some naked and some still partially clothed. The Fell were about to eat.
Thedes melted into his groundling form. He smiled, and it was as if he drew all the light and air toward him. Moving with weightless grace, he moved to a spot near the other rulers and sat down. He gestured. “Si
t with us.”
Shade’s spines shivered, and he looked at Moon in mute appeal. Moon gripped his wrist, squeezing briefly to reassure Shade and steady himself. Moon stepped into the empty spot next to Thedes and sat down on the mat of discarded clothing. The fabrics were heavy and rich, the scent rising up held must, dried blood, piss, and old fear sweat. Shade sank down next to him, trembling.
Thedes smiled his approval. Moon felt it pull at some small part of his heart, and hated himself for it. Thedes said, “This is how friends behave.”
Shade hissed in angry disbelief. The rulers all tilted their heads, almost in unison. One said, “Why do we wait? That one was there when Ivades was killed; I see it in him.”
Thedes said, “That was the past. We are friends now.” He waited, as if giving the others the chance to voice any objections. Then he said, “Now we eat. Like friends.”
A few dakti eased forward to the pile of groundling bodies and shifted to their winged forms. The first one leaned in, ripped an arm off an Aventeran woman, and carried it to the progenitor.
The progenitor accepted the offering and bit into it, ripping off a chunk and chewing with delicate precision. The other dakti tore into the corpses, pulled off the arms and legs and carried them to the rulers. Moon was careful not to let his eyes focus on the bodies. He didn’t want to see an Aventeran face he recognized. Or any sign that some of them weren’t quite dead yet. The rulers started to eat, their fangs digging into the gray flesh.
Then a dakti stepped between Thedes and Moon, its leathery wings brushing Moon’s shoulder. It dropped a groundling leg in front of Shade, the bruised gray flesh stained with congealed blood. Shade flinched. Moon ignored it.