by Martha Wells
The Serpent Sea
Martha Wells
VOLUME TWO OF THE BOOKS OF RAKSURA
NIGHT SHADE BOOKS SAN FRANCISCO
The Serpent Sea
© 2012 by Martha Wells This edition of The Serpent Sea © 2012 by Night Shade Books
Cover illustration by Steve Argyle Cover design by Rebecca Silvers Interior layout and design by Amy Popovich
Edited by Janna Silverstein
All rights reserved
First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-59780-332-8
Night Shade Books
http://www.nightshadebooks.com To Janna Silverstein
Chapter One
Moon had been consort to Jade, sister queen of the Indigo Cloud Court, for eleven days and nobody had tried to kill him yet. He thought it was going well so far.
On the twelfth day, the dawn sun was just breaking through the clouds when he walked out onto the deck of the Valendera. The air was damp and pleasantly cool, filled with the scent of the dense green forest the ship flew over. It was early enough that sleeping bodies still crowded the deck, most of them buried under blankets or piled up against the baskets and bags that held all the court’s belongings. A few people stirred somewhere toward the bow, where the look-outs were posted. On the central mast, the fan-shaped sails were still closed. Their companion ship, the Indala, floated a short distance off the starboard side, pacing them.
Moon heard someone stumble up the narrow stairs from below decks. Then Chime climbed out of the hatch and squinted at the dawn light. He said, “Oh good. Another nice day to spend on this flying torture device.”
Moon had been having variations on this conversation for days. Raksura weren’t meant to live on flying boats—that had been very well established by everybody—but there was no other way to move the court to the new colony.
Indigo Cloud had been in decline for a long time before Moon had arrived, with outbreaks of disease, attacks by predators, and the Fell influence that had caused fewer warrior births. When the Fell attack had forced them to finally abandon the old colony, there hadn’t been enough warriors to move the court in the normal way. Everyone knew they had been lucky to convince a Golden Islander trading family to let them pay for the use of the two flying boats. But while the Valendera was over two hundred paces long and the Indala only a little smaller, there just wasn’t enough room to do much of anything but sleep or sit. The situation was the worst for the wingless Arbora, who were used to spending their days hunting, tending their gardens, or in carving, weaving, or working metal. When the Aeriat were sick of the cramped quarters, they could always go flying.
Moon said, “Do you need me to say anything or do you just want me to stand here?”
“Yes, yes, I know, I know.” Chime rubbed his eyes and glared at the lightening sky. Moon and Chime were both Aeriat Raksura, but Chime was a warrior and Moon was a consort. In their groundling forms there wasn’t much difference between them; they were both tall and lean, both had the dark bronze skin common to many Raksura. Moon had dark hair and green eyes, and was used to blending in with real groundlings. Chime had fluffy, straw-colored hair, and had never had to live outside the closeknit court, though he had his own unique problem to deal with. Chime added, “I just can’t wait until we get to the Reaches. I’ve read all the old histories, but actually seeing it… Stone says we’re nearly there.”
Stone had been saying they were nearly there for three days, but Stone’s idea of “nearly” was different than anyone else’s. Moon just lifted a brow. Chime sighed, and said, “Yes, I know.”
They stood there a moment while Chime continued to grumble and Moon just enjoyed the predawn quiet. All everyone wanted to talk about, when they weren’t complaining about the conditions on the boats, was how excited they were to be going to the new colony. Courts didn’t move very often; Stone was the only one who could remember the last time Indigo Cloud had moved, turns and turns before any of the others had been born. But Moon had never looked at any place with the idea of living there forever. It was daunting, and he couldn’t even pretend to share everyone’s enthusiasm.
Moon felt something watching him, something not friendly. He looked toward the Indala and saw River, Drift, and two other warriors crouched along the railing, staring at him and Chime. They were all in Raksuran form, River’s green scales catching the morning light and reflecting their blue undersheen. River twitched his mane of spines and frills, a not-quite-deliberate challenge.
Now that Moon was Jade’s consort, River’s place as the lover of Pearl, the reigning queen, was safe. But it didn’t mean they were friends now.
Instead of hissing, Moon yawned, stretched extravagantly, and tried to look like a tempting target. A fight with a half-Fell half-Raksuran queen had left him with broken bones, but Raksura healed fast, and he was mostly recovered now. Though he was still a little stiff, especially in the mornings. A couple of days ago the mentors had all agreed that he was well enough to be up and around, and had given him his clothes back. The dark shirt and pants he had borrowed when he had first arrived at the colony were a little the worse for wear but cleaned of dirt and dried blood. Since then he had shifted a few times, and had done some easy flying around the boats, but nothing more strenuous yet. Beating River senseless and throwing him off the Indala would be a good test to see just how healthy Moon was.
But River didn’t take the bait, just lashed his tail in contempt and looked away.
“What are they looking at?” Chime said, but he faced toward the Valendera’s bow, and hadn’t noticed River and his cronies. Halfway down the deck, Bone, the chief of the Arbora’s hunter caste, and several other Arbora stood at the railing and stared down at something. Chime picked his way across the deck, stepping around the sleeping bodies. Any diversion being welcome, Moon followed him.
All the Arbora were shorter than the Aeriat and more heavily built in their groundling forms. Bone, despite the age revealed by his white hair and the ashy cast to his bronze-brown skin, was still heavily muscled and strong. He had a ridge of old scar tissue circling his neck, where something with big teeth had nearly bitten his head off.
Moon leaned on the railing next to him. All the Arbora tasted the air, their expressions intent. “What is it?”
Bone nudged him with an elbow and pointed. “There.”
They had been flying over increasingly dense forest for several days, the trees rising and falling in waves of vivid green fifty or so paces below the wooden hulls of the ships. Now a big shallow lake was just coming into view over the gently waving tops of the plume trees. A large herd of furry grasseaters grazed there, eating the reeds and flowering plants that grew in the water. Moon’s stomach growled; they had been able to hunt sporadically along the way, but for most of the trip they had been living off dwindling stores of salted meat, dried fruit, and wilting roots. And it felt like forever since he had been able to hunt.
The hard line of Bone’s mouth quirked in a smile. “I think everyone could do with a little fresh meat.”
One of the other Arbora snorted at the depth of that understatement.
Moon caught hold of the railing and slung himself up to crouch on it. He said, “Tell the others.” He leapt away from the boat, shifted to Raksuran form in midair and caught the wind.
Moon flew a long slow circle over the lake, playing the cool morning wind against his wings, to stretch his muscles and make certain he was well enough to stoop and dive. He didn’t want to be the first to fall on the herd, meaning to leave it to one of the others.
He had been a child the last time he had lived with his own people, so young he hadn’t known what they were called or where they came from. And this was the first time in his travels through the Three Worlds t
hat he had even lived with other shifters. He hadn’t known anything about Raksura, and he hadn’t known he was a consort, the only fertile male Aeriat, born to be mated to a queen and to produce royal clutches and infertile warriors for the court. He had a great deal of experience trying to fit into various groundling tribes and settlements, just in search of a place to live. But trying to fit into a group where he actually belonged, and had an important role, was… still daunting. He nursed a lingering fear that he was somehow going to wreck it and get thrown out of the court. It wasn’t that odd a notion; he had gotten thrown out of a lot of places for various reasons.
By the time Moon had circled the lake twice, the decision had evidently been made to stop for a full-scale hunt. The two boats slowed to a crawl, then dropped lines. Arbora climbed down to tie them off to tall plume trees. All the Aeriat took the opportunity to jump off the boats and fly over the lake.
Aeriat didn’t normally hunt for themselves unless they were traveling away from the colony; that was left to the Arbora hunters. Judging by everyone’s enthusiastic response, this definitely counted as traveling away from the colony. They circled above the lake, their scales in shades of blue, green, gold, brown, and copper-red. They all had retractable claws on hands and feet, long tails with a spade shape on the end, and manes of spines and frills down their backs. Moon was the only one here with black scales, the color that marked him as a consort, though he had a faint undersheen of bronze that caught the morning light.
The Arbora’s shifted forms looked much like the Aeriat, except they didn’t have wings. They climbed down from the boats on rope ladders so they could butcher the kills on the grassy shore above the lake. Normally this was a task reserved for the hunters, but Moon could see Arbora who were members of the other three castes joining in; teachers, soldiers, even a couple of young mentors, Heart and Merit, leapt enthusiastically into the job. Just another sign that the long trip and confined quarters had worn on everyone.
Another group of Arbora went after some of the grasseaters that had retreated into the trees, and the younger ones dug through the shallows for clusters of edible roots. It was just as well all the work could be done on the ground; early on in the journey, Niran, the groundling whose family owned both flying ships, had put his foot down about butchering kills on the ships’ decks. Moon could see his point; nearly all the woodwork, from planks to railings to masts, was now scored with claw marks, and would need to be sanded down eventually.
Three warriors wheeled and dove on the herd, and the hunt was on. Moon found Chime, still a novice at hunting, and made sure he managed his first kill successfully. Then Moon took a small buck for himself. Like all the Aeriat, they dragged the carcasses off into the reeds to eat immediately; the second kill would be for the colony. They met Song, a young female warrior with coppery scales, already there eating her kill. “This was a fantastic idea,” she said between bites.
After he finished eating, Moon left Chime with Song and swam out into the lake to wash the blood off his scales, then took a second kill to haul back for the Arbora. After he dragged the carcass up onto a sandbar to bleed it, he scanned the sky to see where the others were. Most of the Aeriat were finished, though Chime and a few others still circled above the lake looking for prey. The herd had all moved off now, either further down the shore or into the trees.
A flash of vivid blue made him glance up, but it wasn’t Chime coming in for another pass. Jade cupped her wings and dropped down toward the sandbar.
She was the sister queen of the Indigo Cloud Court, and like all Raksuran queens, she had no groundling form. She could shift only between her winged form and a wingless shape that looked more like an Arbora. Her scales were blue, with a silver-gray web pattern. Behind her head, the frills and spines formed an elaborate mane, reaching all the way down her back to her tail.
She landed neatly, her claws digging into the sand. Folding her wings, she picked her way through the lilies toward Moon. He shifted for her, though he was still standing in the water and it soaked his pants to the knees. His groundling skin was more sensitive and he liked to feel her scales against it.
She caught him around the waist, and he relaxed against her. Her teeth grazed his neck in affectionate greeting, and she asked, “Did you have any trouble flying?”
“No, my shoulder’s fine.” He was a little sore, but it was the welcome ache of unused muscles finally being pushed to work. He nuzzled her neck. “My back’s fine, too.”
“I’m tempted to find out for myself.” Jade’s growl had a warm tone to it. She rubbed her cheek against his. “But we can’t afford the time.”
The grassy bank was very tempting, but she was right; they had to get the ships moving again. They hadn’t had much chance to be together onboard, between the crowding and Moon recovering from his broken wing. But now that Indigo Cloud had adopted a fledgling queen and two consorts from the destroyed Sky Copper court, it wasn’t quite so urgent that Jade get a clutch immediately.
Song, Root, and Chime banked down to circle overhead, and called to them that it was time to leave.
Later that afternoon, Moon woke when a strong cool gust cut across the flat roof of the Valendera’s steering cabin. It carried the clean scent of rain, but with a bitter undertone that meant thunder and lightning, and the force of it made the wooden craft creak and rattle.
Moon pushed up on one elbow for a better taste of the air. At the moment that was harder than it sounded. He was nestled between Jade and Chime, with Song, Root, and a few other warriors curled up around them. Jade had an arm and her tail wrapped around Moon’s waist and he was warm and comfortable from the sun-warmed wood and the heat of friendly bodies. He had to wriggle to sit up enough to look out over the wooden boat’s stern. What he saw made him wince. That’s a problem.
In the distance, just above the forest’s green horizon, a dark mass of storm built, reaching out toward them with gray streaks of cloud. On their journey so far, they had gone through a few days with rain, but no high winds or lightning. It looked like their luck was over.
Jade stirred sleepily, disturbed by his movement. Sounding reluctant to wake, she murmured, “What is it?” After the indulgence of the hunt this morning, most of the court were spending the day napping. Many had fed to the point where they wouldn’t need to eat again for two or three days.
Moon squeezed Jade’s wrist. “There’s a storm to the north.” “What?” She sat up, shouldered the others over enough that Root and another young male warrior rolled right off the cabin roof. She spotted the storm and frowned, then slapped her hand on the planks, making a loud hollow thump. “Niran! Come out here, please.”
Niran’s voice came from somewhere below. “What now?” He sounded angry, but that was normal for Niran. He was the only groundling aboard, a grandson of the Golden Islander family who had traded them the use of the two flying boats. It had been Niran’s grandfather, Delin, who had wanted to help them. Niran had distrusted the Raksura intensely, but had volunteered to stay and try to protect the valuable ships when the Fell had forced Delin and the other Islanders to flee. Forced proximity and shared danger had made Niran trust them, but it hadn’t made his personality any less prickly.
Niran came out of the cabin, a figure as short as the Arbora, but slim and with golden skin and eyes. His long straight white hair was tied back with a patterned scarf and starting to look dingy. It was hard to bathe on the boat, especially for those who couldn’t just fly down for a swim in a pond. He was dressed in a heavy robe, borrowed from one of the Arbora, and clutched a pottery mug. “What is it now?” he demanded again.
“There’s a storm coming,” Jade told him, and pointed.
Niran squinted in that direction. Groundling eyes weren’t as keen as Raksuran and he probably couldn’t see the cloud formation. “Oh for the love of the Ancestors, that’s all we need,” he muttered, turned, and stamped back inside the cabin.
“The boats can’t outrun it, I suppose,�
�� Jade said, still frowning.
“I doubt it,” Moon told her. The power to keep the ships aloft and moving came from the tiny fragment of sky-island, kept in the ship’s steering apparatus, that let them ride the lines of force that stretched across the Three Worlds. Their progress was steady, but not very fast, and a storm-wind would tear the sails apart. Moon sat up all the way and nudged Chime over. “I think we’ll have to stop and winch them down to the ground.”
Chime twitched awake and sat up, blinking. “Winch what to the— Oh.” He stared uneasily at the approaching clouds. “That’s not good. What do we do?”
“Don’t panic,” Jade said. The others were blearily awake now, looking into the wind. She prodded Song with her foot. “Song, go and find Pearl.”
Song nodded and pushed to her feet. She shifted and jumped off the cabin roof, to land on the railing and leap again, taking flight toward the Indala. Pearl was the reigning queen, and Jade’s mother, and while the situation between them was better than it had been, there were still ripples of tension. Since Moon had caused one big wave of tension by becoming Jade’s consort and not Pearl’s, it was a relief that Pearl had decided to spend much of her time on the other ship.
“I wasn’t panicking,” Chime said with dignity. He drew his legs up, wrapped his arms around his knees. “I just never liked storms, even in the colony. Do you know what happens if lightning hits you?”
Jade didn’t bother to answer that. Most of the Raksura, especially the Arbora, would be used to weathering storms safe inside a colony, not in the air on a fragile flying boat. Moon wasn’t happy about it either. Thunderstorms made him edgy. The day after his family had been killed, he had been caught in one, huddled high in the branches of a too-small tree. The Tath had still been hunting him so he couldn’t chance climbing any lower, and the storm had grown in intensity all day, as if it meant to tear the whole forest apart.
At least he wasn’t going to have to face this one alone.