by Martha Wells
His expression was closed and hard to read, but at least he didn’t look terrified.
Cerise became aware that a large percentage of the court was now in the greeting hall, in groundling form or scaled, either on this level, or up on the balconies and overlooks, or hanging from the walls. People entered speaking in normal tones and were quickly hushed by those already here. An appalled silence seemed to be spreading all through the enormous colony tree.
Cerise swallowed back the urge to knock Indigo through the nearest wall, and forced herself to focus on the immediate problem. There would be plenty of time to commit filicide later. She said, “How far behind you are they?”
Indigo’s flattened spines twitched. “Not far,” she admitted.
Near Cerise’s elbow, Streak made a noise somewhere between a groan of dismay and an angry hiss.
Cerise realized her most trusted female warrior, Tranquil, now stood a few paces away. Tranquil was trying to control her expression and her spines, both of which twitched between consternation and disgust. Including Streak in the order, Cerise said, “Get the Arbora inside, and send out extra patrols. But don’t let them provoke a fight.”
Tranquil nodded and leapt toward the entrance, and other warriors split off from the crowd to follow. Streak turned and bounded toward the stairway down to the lower levels.
Indigo said, “I think—”
“I’m not really interested in what you think.” Cerise thought she had done well so far. If only Indigo kept her mouth shut, Cerise might be able to get through this without killing anyone. At least anyone in her direct bloodline.
Indigo’s spines flicked again. “If you won’t listen to my explanation—”
“Did they give him to you?” Cerise asked, her voice flat.
The consort folded his arms and looked away.
Indigo let her breath out. “No.”
“Then I don’t need to listen to your explanation.”
At that moment, a black blur dropped out of the upper levels, scattered startled warriors and Arbora, and landed on the floor of the greeting hall in a bristle of angry spines. The dark shape drew itself up and became Cerise’s consort Paragon, first consort of the court.
All his spines flared in rage and when he shook his wings back the displaced air knocked a couple of warriors sideways. His matte black scales drew the eye of everyone in the big chamber. Any remaining whispers among the Arbora and warriors stopped abruptly. Consorts, at least consorts with any spirit, got angry just as much as any Raksura, but they didn’t often display their anger to the court, and Paragon was usually reserved.
Paragon stared at the young consort, who dropped his gaze and hunched his shoulders. Then Paragon stared at Indigo. It might have been hard for anyone who didn’t know him well to read his expression, but to Cerise it clearly said, I raised you from the time you were small enough to fit in my hand, and this is how you repay me. Then he looked at Cerise. Yes, she could read that expression too. She sighed.
Paragon pounced, caught the young consort with an arm around his waist, then leapt for the upper levels of the greeting hall. Three warriors fell off a balcony trying to scramble out of his way, then he disappeared into the nearest doorway.
Cerise and Indigo were left staring at each other. Indigo, if possible, looked even more miserable, and Lapis seemed ready to sink through the floor. Indigo said, “I haven’t touched him. He’ll tell you that. And I didn’t steal him. He wanted to come with me.”
It had the ring of truth. Cerise felt the tension inside her heart unclench, just a little. She realized abruptly that most of her anger was sparked by fear. The Indigo that would steal an unwilling consort was not the Indigo she had given birth to. It was a relief to realize that her Indigo still existed, and was in fact standing in front of her. She let out her breath, her spines settling, and the whole court seemed to relax a little. She said, “What exactly did—”
A warrior bounded in from the entrance passage, calling out, “Cerise! A strange group of Aeriat just entered the clearing.”
Indigo glanced at Lapis. “That was close.”
Lapis hissed in dismay. “If they’d caught us—” She swallowed the rest and glanced worriedly at Cerise.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Cerise said. Streak had reappeared with a few dozen more Arbora soldiers, all shifted into their scaled forms and ready to defend the entrance passage. It was the only way into the tree that couldn’t be completely sealed off, but the twists and turns in it made it a death trap for attackers. Cerise told the hall in general, “No one follows me out. Understood?”
She waited until there were reluctant assents from everyone nearby, then she turned to go.
Fluff, the chief of the mentors’ caste, dropped off a balcony and landed in front of her. Breathing hard, he gasped, “Take me with you.”
He was right, it might help. She grabbed him around the waist and flung herself into the entrance passage.
Raksuran life was all about living without killing each other. They were two races of shapeshifters, the winged Aeriat and the wingless Arbora, who had joined together at some point in the distant past of the Three Worlds to make a better whole. The Aeriat knew their past was violent; Cerise had read the mentors’ histories and seen the carved images at the older courts like Emerald Twilight, that showed how the Aeriat had once used their shapeshifting to prey on helpless groundling races. Whether the Arbora had once been prey or rivals, whether they had gotten their shifting and scales and claws and tails from the Aeriat like they got their mentors’ skills, or whether they had had them all along, no one seemed to know. But the elaborate rules and etiquette among the courts all existed for good reasons. And what Indigo had done was one of the worst violations of etiquette that a queen could commit in another court.
Carrying Fluff under one arm, Cerise paused on the edge of the knothole that formed the tree’s entrance. The colony was formed out of a tamed mountain-tree, and its canopy stretched up hundreds of paces above them, multiple layers of leaves dimming the late afternoon light and holding the other giant trees of the suspended forest at bay. The water that was channeled out of the pool in the greeting hall ran out in a fall to one side of the knothole, the tree’s way of expelling the extra moisture drawn up through its roots; it dropped all the way down through the clouds of mist back to the forest floor.
All the colony’s agriculture was done on the multiple levels of platforms formed by branches that had twined together and collected dirt and plant growth over time. These formed naturally on all mountain-trees, and had created the suspended forest that occupied the understory of the Reaches. Dozens of platforms stood out from the colony tree’s trunk, and some were as much as a few hundred paces across, and held gardens, orchards, reservoirs, and channels for ornamental water and irrigation. Normally at this time of day Arbora would still be working out there, but Streak had acted quickly and they had all vanished inside through the door into the trunk that led off one of the larger platforms. “No hunters out today?” Cerise asked Fluff.
“No,” he said from under her arm. He was still a little winded from what must have been a frantic climb-and-run through the colony to reach the greeting hall. “Fortunately. They decided it was too likely to rain and stayed in to work on the last batch of hides.”
A few warriors were still in flight, from the group whose duty it was to patrol the clearing today. As they swung around in formation and lit on the platform below Cerise, she spotted the strangers.
They had landed on one of the outermost platforms, a small one about two hundred paces above her current position and at the very tip of a branch. It wasn’t big enough to grow any substantial crops or fruit trees and was too far from the trunk to make a good pleasure garden. But it was big enough for a resting spot.
From here she could see there were two queens and at least fifteen warriors. If alone, Cerise would have buried her face in her hands and groaned. Obviously, Emerald Twilight was not taking this lightly. And it
wasn’t as if she could blame them for it. It was also embarrassing that Cerise knew both queens, had met them on a long ago visit to Emerald Twilight when she was still a sister queen. The elder was Beryl, now a sister queen herself, and the younger was Silver, still a daughter queen.
Tranquil flapped up to land nearby, four warriors following her. She said, “Are we in as much trouble as it seems?”
Cerise said, “In a word, yes.” Fluff made a noise between a chuckle and a groan.
She flicked her spines to tell Tranquil and the other warriors to follow, and leapt into flight.
Cerise lighted on the platform and set Fluff on his feet. He immediately shifted to his groundling form. He was short and stocky even for an Arbora, old enough that his reddish hair was starting to show glints of gray and his copper skin starting to lighten, both signs of advancing age in Raksura. He smiled at the foreign queens, as if this was a trading trip and Cerise was here to invite them in for tea.
Tranquil said hurriedly, “This is Cerise, reigning queen of Umber Shadow.”
Cerise approved; Tranquil was following the formalities of a normal visit, though rightfully it should have been an Emerald Twilight female warrior making the first greeting. But if they were lucky, they would be able to turn this into a conference rather than a battle. Cerise hadn’t needed to tell Tranquil that, which was one of the reasons she had sent Tranquil out here.
The two Emerald Twilight queens said nothing, but one of their older female warriors, probably the one who would normally have made the greeting, stirred uneasily and looked at Beryl, obviously wondering if she should answer the introduction. Good, Cerise thought. Anything that kept them from thinking about attacking.
The other two queens didn’t speak, so she took a calculated risk and said, “And this is Fluff, our chief mentor.”
Silver, the younger queen, actually blinked. Yes, we know it’s a terrible name for a mentor, Cerise thought wryly. The story was that Fluff’s skills hadn’t presented until he was an adolescent, long out of the nurseries, and it had been too late to change his name by that point. Cerise thought it more likely that the Arbora who named him had just had a bad sense of humor.
Fluff beamed at the hostile Emerald Twilight party. He said, “If there’s time later, I want to ask after the health of Muse, one of your older mentors. She said in her last letter that her knees pained her.”
For him to speak at this point, before the two foreign queens had introduced themselves, was against the protocol, but still not technically impolite for two courts who were close allies. And mentors, especially older mentors, tended to make their own rules.
Beryl flicked a spine, but Fluff’s expression of welcome and genuine delight at seeing them didn’t waver. Cerise hoped her expression was as calm as she meant it to be. Then Beryl sighed. She said to Fluff, “Muse’s knees always pain her during the rain seasons. There is no cause for worry.” To Cerise, she added, “I take it you wish to avoid a battle.”
Cerise said, “I sent my sister queen to arrange a trade of a new variety of tea plants for paper plants and to open a negotiation about the new strain of redberry. I didn’t send her to steal a consort.”
On both sides, several warriors breathed out in relief. Beryl flicked a spine again, and said, “But that is what happened.”
Cerise tilted her head in acknowledgement. The important thing now was to keep them talking. She looked at Silver, who hadn’t spoken yet, and said, “Who does he belong to?” She made sure not to speak in the past tense.
Silver’s spines shivered but more in annoyance than anger. “My clutch-mate, Argent.”
Beryl said, “She’ll be here before morning, probably. Our reigning queen detained her to speak about the situation.”
That was a very good sign, though Cerise kept her reaction off her face and out of her spines. Fluff lifted a brow thoughtfully and Tranquil swayed a little, possibly feeling faint from relief. This showed more than anything that Emerald Twilight’s reigning queen wasn’t keen on the idea of a war, either. This was a message that said I sent the two calm ones and held back the hothead. You have until she gets there to think of a way out of this. Cerise appreciated the respite.
Fluff said, “Will you come inside? The Arbora haven’t had our evening meal yet, and you must want tea, after your long journey.” He was doing a good job of playing a combination of innocent Arbora who had no idea there was any source of tension and elder mentor used to having his own way.
Beryl looked as though she would very badly like to come inside and have tea. She let out her breath, and said, reluctantly, “We’d better stay out here.”
Cerise tilted her head in acknowledgement. If Beryl and Silver accepted the invitation, it would be an implicit approval of Indigo’s theft. It wouldn’t solve anything since the disputed consort was Argent’s property and she was the only one who could forgive the theft, but it would have muddied the situation a little, showing that Argent didn’t have the support of other queens of her court, which would have been to Cerise’s benefit. Beryl and Silver clearly knew that, as well. Cerise said, “You are welcome to camp here. One of our mentors will oblige with stones for heat and light, if you have none with you.”
“We thank you,” Beryl said, obviously wearily resigned to an uncomfortable wet night, spent within sight of the entrance to a warm, dry colony.
Cerise collected Fluff and jumped off the platform.
She led the warriors back to the trunk. They landed in the knothole, and she told Tranquil, “Send someone reliable to take them the heat and light stones. Set a watch on them, but tell whoever it is not to get too close.”
As Tranquil took the warriors away, Fluff said, “I think that went as well as could be expected.”
“Sadly, I think you’re right.” The wind had risen and carried the spray from the waterfall toward them, the cool mist settling on Cerise’s scales, mingling with the first few drops of rain. Poor Beryl, she thought. Cerise made no move toward the entrance; she wanted a word with Fluff in private. She suspected that once they stepped back into the greeting hall, there would be no chance. “I don’t think this Argent will be inclined to be reasonable.” Cerise had never encountered Argent, who must have still been in the nurseries the last time she had visited Emerald Twilight.
“No. The Emerald Twilight queen wouldn’t have kept her from going with Beryl and Silver if she was.” Fluff scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose much depends on whether the consort was taken away against his will. Or not, as Indigo said.”
“Paragon will know by now.” Cerise didn’t know what was going on up in the consorts’ level but she was fairly certain it was going to involve Paragon extracting the entire story out of their young visitor.
Fluff eyed her. “You could just hand him back.”
Cerise rubbed her face. “I could.” But as angry as she was about this whole mad situation, part of her was certain Indigo wouldn’t have done this without a good reason. If Indigo had stolen a consort, it was because he wanted to be stolen. She said, “Did that consort look like he was with Indigo against his will?”
“He looked like he was sizing up the situation,” Fluff said. “And if I was a consort, and I had been snatched away from my court and my queen, and was deposited in front of a foreign reigning queen who looked not only horrified but enraged at what appeared to be my situation, I would throw myself at her feet at once and beg for protection until I could be returned to my own court. There was a noticeable absence of any of that.”
“That’s what I thought too.” Cerise sighed. “Let’s go find out.”
When they got back into the greeting hall, Reef, one of Paragon’s favorite warriors, was already there waiting for Cerise. He said, “Paragon says that the consort—his name is Cloud—told him that he did ask Indigo to take him away from Emerald Twilight.”
“Good.” Cerise had thought it likely, but it was still a relief to hear it confirmed. “Tell Paragon I’ll come up and speak to him a
s soon as I can.”
Reef nodded, crouched, and leapt back up the central well toward the upper levels.
Cerise found Indigo and Lapis down in the teachers’ hall, just below the greeting hall. It was one of the most comfortable halls in the tree, where many of the Arbora and warriors tended to gather in the evening for food and company. The walls were carved with a whole forest of trees that curved up across the domed ceiling. Their branches entwined overhead, and their roots came down to frame the round doorways that led off toward the nurseries and the rest of the teachers’ levels. It was always filled with all the warm familiar scents of the court.
Indigo and Lapis sat on cushions near the big metal bowl of the hearth, which was filled with stones spelled by the mentors to provide heat. They were being given tea and someone had put flatbread on a pan to bake, and a number of Arbora were gathered around sympathetically.
Cerise stood there a moment until all the Arbora got the hint and withdrew to a discreet distance. She was going to need to consult at some point with the other leaders of the Arbora castes, the teachers, hunters, and mentors, and she needed to talk with Ruby, the court’s older sister queen.
Cerise and Ruby had never developed the rivalry common to reigning queens and sister queens of different bloodlines. Ruby’s birthqueen and her consort had died in a brief spell of sickness that had hit the court some fifty turns ago, and Paragon had taken over raising her. Cerise had come to treat her as a combination of clutchmate and daughter queen, and she wasn’t sure if Ruby’s good temper had been due to her or if Paragon just had a knack for raising mature, sensible queens.
But Ruby was currently in the stage of her pregnancy where shifting was impossible and was closeted with her consort and a couple of her closest female warriors in her bower. She was cranky at best and not in a position to provide any actual help.
Cerise took a seat on an abandoned cushion. As Fluff settled next to her, she said, “Well?”