by Martha Wells
They had warned the others about the voices and images that had seemed to pervade the place last night, but as they crept through the doorway, there was nothing. It was just an empty ruin. Moon wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, if the visions only came at night, or if he and Stone had changed something in the ruin just by entering it.
As they moved through the chambers, the spelled light-bundles shed a warm yellow glow onto the walls, revealing reliefs that were partially covered by furry green or white mosses and creeping vines. They were all complicated designs of circles crossed by lines, with square intricately detailed glyphs that must be writing or symbols of some kind. It looked intriguingly like navigational charts that Moon had seen ships use off the coast of Kish, but far stranger and more complex. In a low voice, Braid said, “Merit might be able to make some sense of this.”
“Maybe,” Plum said doubtfully.
They made their way through the other chambers. In dim light, the trench was just an empty channel running through the floor, no more than thirty or so paces deep. The bottom held stagnant water, a variety of encroaching water plants, and some white and gray swimming things that had too many limbs to be fish, but without the hard carapaces of shellfish. The Raksura all leapt across it without incident.
When they reached the big chamber, it was dimly lit by the large hole in the arch of the ceiling. In daylight Moon could see it was cracked and crumbled around the edges, and had clearly been caused by whatever had crashed through the floor.
At Moon’s direction, the warriors held the light bundles at various angles, until they could see the faint marks in the moss around the hole. Bramble, Plum, and Braid examined them closely.
Avoiding the scuffed tracks on the floor, Moon stepped as close as he could to the opening, Stone moving to stand beside him. The crumbling edges of the ceilings and floors of the level below this one were visible, all the way down to what should be the lowest part of the city, where it was obscured by a small jungle of greenery. There was no sign that anyone had climbed, or been dragged, either up or down it. But Moon thought he, or any Raksura, could probably do it without causing much, if any, disturbance.
Keeping his voice low, Moon said, “We couldn’t see our light once it fell past those trees. How could the light from below shine up through them? Our light wasn’t that bright, but still …”
Stone said, “Maybe it wasn’t a light.”
Then from the other side of the hole, Bramble said, “There’s no scent left, but these are foot tracks. I can’t tell if they’re Raksura, but—”
“But Chime’s bag was here,” River interrupted, moving his moss bundle onto his other shoulder. “So they must be—”
“I know that,” Bramble growled. “I’m trying not to make any assumptions. And don’t move the light.”
“There were at least five of them,” Plum said. She had nearly flattened herself to the floor, studying the faint scuff marks. “That fits, too.”
Bramble added, “They came from across the room, that way, from the same direction we did.”
Plum stood and moved around the hole in the opposite direction. “And they didn’t leave. But something did. This whole side shows scrapes and scuffles. Whatever it was, it didn’t cross the floor to leave.” She frowned and looked up at the hole in the ceiling. “It’s as if it went up and out that way.”
Moon’s breath caught in his throat. No bodies, he reminded himself.
The others just stared. Sand made a noise of distress, and Briar said, “So … they went down there, and then something big came out? And we don’t know if they came out?”
Plum looked around to see the reaction she had caused and said hastily, “As far as I can tell. The tracks are confused, I can’t really …” She made a helpless gesture.
Bramble and Braid circled around to Plum, and Bramble crouched to look more closely at the floor. She said, “That’s what I’m seeing, too.”
“We could get into this shaft from below, couldn’t we?” Plum said. She scraped her claws against the tiles. “What’s under this floor?”
Moon shook his head. Stone had tried that earlier, climbing around the outside of the structure and into the tangled greenery and jumbled rock below it. Stone said, “As far as I could tell, the levels under this one are collapsed, like this part of the city fell first and the rest got pulled down around it. It’s too much to tunnel through, and I couldn’t see any openings.”
“Pulled down?” Plum said, and exchanged frowns with Bramble and Braid. Arbora in general knew far more about building things than Aeriat, and Plum had been a teacher before she had decided to turn hunter. “That’s odd, isn’t it?”
Bramble’s spines flicked thoughtfully. “I’m trying to imagine something falling like this, and … wouldn’t it more likely break into pieces in the air and come down in sections?”
“Yes, but a flying island wouldn’t necessarily do that,” Braid said, warming to the subject. “It’s the mineral chunks inside the rock that keep them aloft, right? So if the mineral pieces stopped working at different times—”
They continued the debate and Moon hissed impatiently under his breath, and said to Stone, “We have to go down there.”
“Not we.” Stone folded his arms. “I’ll go. I’m waiting to hear if Merit got anything off the bag.”
“You’re not going without me.” Moon had had this argument before, and always won it. “What if there’s a passage too narrow for you to get through? Are you going to have to come all the way back up and get me?”
Stone gave him a look that would have turned poor Ember’s bones to water. Moon got that look a lot, so he was used to it.
River said, “I’m going too. You can’t stop me.”
Drift groaned in dismay, and Floret said wearily, “Pearl is not sleeping with you again, so just get over it.”
River dropped his light bundle and rounded on her, snarling. Stone’s sharp growl cut across the chorus of outrage on River’s behalf and agreement with Floret.
Fortunately, before Stone took more precipitous action, someone called out from above. “Hey, Merit needs to speak to you. Should we come down there?”
Moon looked up to see Aura and Merit peering over the edge of the hole in the dome. He flicked his spines in assent, his heart beginning to pound.
Aura took Merit under her arm and dropped down to the floor. As she set Merit on his feet, the others reached them and gathered around. Merit looked past them toward the hole in the floor. “That’s it, then.” He turned to Moon and Stone. “Chime—I think it was Chime—went down there because he thought he was helping someone. I think the others followed him.”
That was what they had expected, but it was still nerve-racking to hear it confirmed. Moon said, “So something lured him down there.” It might be another creature that the forerunners had imprisoned, but it could also be some kind of predator, using this place as a trap.
“Maybe,” Merit said. He looked around the big chamber again, narrowing his eyes as if to see past the shadows. “This place … feels dead and alive at the same time. Those things you saw last night … That has to be a part of it. I don’t understand how Chime’s visions work since he’s changed, and neither does he, but I can’t believe he wouldn’t have seen those too.”
“Are you seeing them?” Moon asked.
Merit grimaced, as if he had hoped to see them and regretted the missed opportunity. “No. I don’t know why any of us would see them last night but not today.”
Stone said again, “The light’s not on.”
They all turned to look at the opening. Under the dim daylight and the glowing moss, it was just a hole in an ancient ruin, nothing more. Moon said, “We have to do it.”
Merit let out a breath and settled his spines. “I’ll go with you. I don’t want to, but … I think I’d better.”
River had moved close to listen. Stubborn as a rock, he said, “And me. I went through the gullet of that leviathan with you, you know I won’t panic.
”
Drift said, “River …”
River rounded on him. “I’m not going to do anything stupid and get myself killed. But I’ve got experience the rest of you haven’t.”
Drift subsided reluctantly.
That was what Moon had been thinking, so he didn’t argue. Whatever River’s reasons were—and Moon was fairly sure the motive was to get himself a place in Jade’s faction—he could be depended on in a situation like this.
Stone stared at nothing for a moment. It would have been impossible to tell for anyone who didn’t know him well, but Moon could see he was clearly having some internal debate. Then Stone growled in a way that made everyone except Moon flinch back a little and said, “Get the packs together.”
Stone went first, taking his winged form to flow down over the edge of the opening like a dark cloud. Moon went next, with River and Merit behind him.
The walls were crushed and crumbled, lined with broken tiles and broken shards of paving stone, coated with streaks of moss and dripping with water. The climbing was easy, with plenty of claw-holds. These were the levels below the tower floor, crushed down by the weight of the structures above them. Whatever had fallen through here had cut through the thick slabs like a claw slicing through fruit. Moon climbed around a pillar wedged into the wall, forming a gap that allowed a glimpse into the darkness between the compacted floors.
It wasn’t like Jade not to leave anybody outside the ruin if she had had to go in after Chime. She might have left one or two warriors behind to get help if the rescue went wrong, but then something had happened to them as well. Moon could easily imagine her taking Balm and Song with her, leaving Root and Coil outside. He didn’t want to imagine what had happened next.
The light from above began to fail, but Merit was spelling chunks of rock and broken tile as he climbed, leaving a trail of faint light behind them, just enough to see what was ahead. Vines curled out of the gaps in the broken stone, with parasite bulbs and feather spikes and other plants that could thrive just on the air studding the ruined walls. Snails bigger than Moon’s head were tucked under the leaves and multi-colored miniature versions of tree crabs skittered away from his claws.
Below, the foliage was getting thicker as they drew closer to the lowest depths of the city. The lights Merit created shone down on layers and layers of big air ferns that had grown out across the width of the opening, blocking any view of what they were climbing into.
Then from above Merit whispered, “Stop! Do you hear that?”
Moon froze in place. Below him, Stone stopped, the end of his tail curled inquiringly. Listening hard, all Moon heard was dripping water, a buzz of insects somewhere nearby, and the faint sound of the others’ breathing. He looked up at Merit, who balanced easily on the collapsed wall, next to River. Moon said, “Hear what?”
Merit frowned slowly, and started to climb again. “A rushing sound, like something falling … I think we’re getting close. That must have been something like the visions you had last night.”
Below, Stone turned one baleful eye to glare up at them, then started to climb again, the foliage barely rustling as he passed.
Then Stone’s tail twitched and he halted abruptly. Moon hissed to warn Merit and River, then crept slowly down toward Stone, past the thick growth of ferns and vines. He climbed down alongside Stone’s dark shape, staying close to the wall.
He could see just enough to tell the foliage abruptly stopped here, leaving most of the passage open, just a big dark empty space. Then Moon narrowed his eyes. Not quite empty.
Near the center of the space there was a shape, an unmoving shape, just hanging in midair. Moon’s heart squeezed tight with dread. He turned and slipped back up the wall, past the barrier of ferns, to where River and Merit clung to the narrow ledge. River flattened his spines, reading something off Moon’s expression. Moon said, “I need a light.”
Wide-eyed, Merit handed him the bulb of a parasite plant, spelled to glow. Moon tucked it in between his side and his wing and climbed back down.
Beside Stone again, Moon hung with one hand and his foot-claws, and held out the light.
The figure was Coil, the fifth warrior Jade had taken with her. He hung suspended in the air as if he had just leapt into flight, wings partially extended, hands out ready to brace for a landing. When Moon had realized the shape hanging in mid-air was a Raksura, he had expected to see it caught in some net, or impaled on a piece of debris. But Coil was just suspended there, like a fish suspended in water, like a bug caught in amber. Not coherently, Moon said, “But … What?”
Stone’s body rumbled with a nearly soundless growl, then he adjusted his position on the wall. A heartbeat later he shifted to his groundling form. His feet were balanced on a ledge barely a hand-span wide and he had one hand jammed into a gap between the crushed floor levels. Moon braced to grab him if he fell, but Stone balanced easily. He said, “He’s trapped in something, we just can’t see it.”
“But what …” Moon let that go, as there was obviously no point in asking what Coil could possibly be trapped in. He tilted his head, trying to see Coil’s face in the dim light. He could see a gleam on Coil’s eyes, as if they were open. He couldn’t make out his expression. Moon took a deep taste of the air, but he didn’t scent death. “Could he still be alive?”
There was a rustle above them as River and Merit climbed closer. Stone leaned back and told them, “Careful. Stay close to the wall.”
River eased down beside Moon and hissed in astonishment. Merit gasped, his spines flicking in agitation. Groping for an explanation, any explanation, Moon said, “Merit, do you know what this is?”
“It’s …” Merit’s expression was baffled and frightened. “No, but … there’s something here. I mean, I can’t feel it, I can’t see it, but I hear voices. I don’t know what they’re saying …”
“Can we get to him?” River craned his neck, trying to see better. “There’s nothing to perch on, but if we got a rope—”
“No.” Stone jerked his chin. “Look up.”
Moon twisted to look. The jumble of intertwined creeping vines, the air ferns, the parasite bulbs and other plants stopped about twenty paces up. Stopped as if a knife had cleanly sliced them off. Moon looked around at the walls. There was still moss and some small plants growing out of the gaps between the floor levels and the cracks in the stone. But nothing extended out into the center of the shaft. He felt the wall behind them and found a loose fragment of tile. Gently, he tossed it toward Coil.
The tile flew for about ten paces then started to slow, as if it had fallen into honey. It slowed to a gradual stop still several paces from the tip of Coil’s wing.
Like a bug caught in amber, Moon thought again. “A rope would never reach him, and he’s … too stuck for us to pull out.”
Stone studied the scene again. His expression was opaque, a sure sign he was deeply disturbed. He shook his head slowly. “If this is what it looks like …”
“The others are lower down.” Moon swallowed back bile. “Merit, can you tell if Coil is alive?”
“No. But—” Merit leaned forward a little, narrowing his eyes. “Look at his right foot, fourth claw.”
Moon squinted. Hooked on Coil’s claw was a sprig of greenery, that must have caught there from his last perch on the wall. After a heartbeat, Moon realized what was wrong with that. “It’s still green. It’s not even wilted.” The fragment of vine was frozen, just like Coil.
River sucked in a breath. “Even if they’ve only been here a day, and we know they were here longer, the vine should have wilted—”
“There’s a chance he’s alive. They’re alive,” Moon said. He didn’t want to speculate any further than that.
“Stay near the walls, and only climb where the plants grow,” Stone said. He leaned away and shifted back to his winged form, then started down the wall again. Moon ducked to avoid his tail, then followed with River and Merit.
Every nerve itched now, both with ren
ewed fear of what they might find and terror that whatever this effect was would catch them too. How are we going to get them out? What if we can’t get them out? The thought was agonizing. They didn’t even know what they were dealing with.
Forty paces down they found Root, suspended in the air, posed as if he had just leapt off the wall and was aiming for a perch on the opposite side of the shaft. They all paused for a moment, then Stone rumbled in his throat again and kept climbing.
The shaft grew wider, and the lights Merit spelled didn’t reach far across it. But when he looked down, Moon could see shapes in the dimness.
The shaft ended in a large space. Not a cavern; a pocket formed in the bottom of the city.
Stone hesitated, and Moon tasted the air again. There was still no scent that didn’t belong, no hint of movement in the deep shadow. And there should be movement. This section of the city must be resting on part of the mountain-thorn’s trunk. It should be alive with insects, and teeming with the things that fed on them.
Merit plucked some moss off the wall, held it until it began to glow, then dropped it. It fell, scattering fragments, about sixty paces or so to land on a cracked pavement. Stone made a low noise in his throat. Moon said, “More, Merit. As many as you can.”
Merit spelled more moss and parasite plants to glow, dropping them down into the chamber. When he had almost denuded this whole side of the shaft, the light gradually revealed the figures standing below.
Moon had been expecting this, but it still squeezed his heart and stopped his breath.
Chime was near the center of the chamber, in groundling form, standing frozen in place. Merit started to spell and toss shards of tile and fragments of paving stone toward the still figure, illuminating more of the space as the glowing fragments gradually slowed and came to a halt in midair. Jade, Balm, and Song were about twenty paces away from Chime, toward the other side of the shaft, perched on a triangular wedge of fallen wall. Jade and Balm faced Chime, looking down on him. Song stood behind them and half-turned away, as if she had just heard something. All three were in their winged forms.