Sometime later Moon jolted awake, accidentally elbowing Chime. “Umf?” Chime asked, blearily.
Moon shushed him. None of the others had moved, but he could see Floret’s eyes were open. Moon whispered, “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.” Moving carefully, she pushed herself up on one elbow. “Something just below us?”
“I heard it too,” Song whispered.
Root began, “I didn’t—”
It happened again—Moon felt it more than heard it— a surreptitious scrape on the wood below.
On the underside of the hull,
he thought. Chime hissed. Moon leaned down close to the planks and took a deep breath, tasting the air. But the hull was too thick here and all he could scent was Raksura.
Moon pointed up to the deck and said softly, “Move quietly. One at a time.” He climbed slowly to his feet. Stepping carefully around Chime, he picked his way silently across the floor to the doorway. He shifted, then scaled the doorframe to the ceiling, hooking his claws in the narrow bands of wood, and swung out into the hall. One of Ivory’s warriors, a big female named Fleet, was on guard in her shifted form, hanging from the doorway. “What—?” she started to ask.
“Quiet,” Moon hissed. “There’s something underneath the boat. Warn the others.” He climbed up the stairwell to the deck.
It was night; a cool breeze blew across the bow, scented of green grasses. There was no hint of Fell in it. Lamps hung on the bow and at the steering cabin. Delin, Celadon, and Lithe sat in its doorway, talking softly. Delin was making notes in one of his books. One of Celadon’s warriors crouched atop the cabin, keeping watch.
They glanced up as Moon appeared, and Celadon’s spines lifted as she sensed his tension. He crouched down beside her and said, low-voiced, “There’s something on the bottom of the hull. We heard it move.”
Celadon hissed under her breath and uncoiled to rise soundlessly to her feet. Lithe’s eyes widened and Delin calmly closed his book and pushed it inside the cabin door. Chime, Floret, and the other warriors crept quietly up from below. Ivory and her warriors followed.
Celadon motioned them all to come close, and whispered, “Ivory, take your warriors out along that side of the boat and get ready to climb down. My warriors come with me.”
Moon started to follow Celadon, but she added, “Moon, stay with Lithe.”
Moon grimaced, but obeyed, retreating to the cabin. Lithe stood in the doorway, bouncing nervously. “Do you scent Fell?” she asked. “I can’t.”
Moon shook his head. “No. It may be something else.”
Chime, Floret, Song, and Root gathered around the cabin, all shifted and braced for trouble. It was a clear night and the moon was nearly full, silver light shining down on grassland broken by clumps of rock, some wrought by weather into smooth rounded shapes, like the towers of a ruined city. Several flying islands of various sizes dotted the sky above, their shapes blotting out the stars. Moon had a flash of memory, of the furred groundling hanging from the giant rib bone, leaning down to peer under the ship’s hull. He cursed under his breath.
It wasn’t just curious, it saw something down there.
“What?” Chime whispered nervously.
“Nothing,” Moon said. Then he heard Celadon’s voice, getting louder as she climbed up the side of the boat. “…You little idiot! I can’t believe this!” She swung herself over the rail onto the deck. “What is Malachite going to say to you? What is she going to say to me?”
A dark shape followed her, and Moon heard rather than saw it shift. Then another familiar voice said, “It’s not your fault.”
Shade.
Moon clapped a hand over his eyes and hissed. Malachite was going to go insane. They would be lucky if she didn’t order them all back to the colony the instant she saw him.
Chime said, “Him? Uh-oh.”
Lithe said, glumly, “Oh, this isn’t good. Malachite is going to be very upset.”
“No kidding,” Moon muttered.
“But who is this?” Delin asked, peering into the darkness.
As Lithe explained who Shade was, Moon shifted to groundling and went to the group at the railing.
The warriors gathered around as Celadon demanded, “What did you think you were doing?”
“I wanted to help.” Shade sounded embarrassed, at least. He was in his groundling form now and had clearly prepared for the trip with a small pack over one shoulder. This hadn’t been a last moment impulse, then. He said, “Hello, Moon,” and added to Celadon, “I’ll make sure Malachite knows it was all my idea.”
Sounding grim, Ivory said, “When Malachite sees you, she might order us all back to the colony.”
Shade protested, “She won’t. This is a good plan. She won’t stop it just because I’m here.”
Celadon folded her arms. “Sure of that, are you?”
“Yes.” It could have seemed arrogant, but coming from Shade it just sounded earnest and naive.
Ivory’s spines rippled in annoyance. “We can send him home with an escort of warriors.”
“You need all the warriors with you,” Shade told her. “Besides, I won’t go.”
There was general hissing and spine-flicking from everyone standing around, but no one disputed the point, and no one seemed to know what to do. It was clear from Shade’s behavior, and the reactions of the queens and warriors, that he hadn’t done anything requiring rebuke since he had left the nurseries. Obviously Malachite’s potential wrath wasn’t threat enough to force him to go back to the colony.
Moon had had enough, and didn’t see any use in continuing to argue. He said, “Shade, let’s go down to the cabins and talk.” He caught Shade’s wrist and hauled him out of the circle of queens and warriors.
Shade meekly followed him down the stairs, but once they were in the belowdecks passage, he asked, “Are you angry with me?”
Moon stopped in the doorway to the sleeping cabin. He didn’t want a half-Fell half-brother who seemed determined to force the relationship which they had had for all of a few days, but he was stuck with one, and there seemed no way out of it now. And Shade was sheltered and innocent, and yet seemed to have no illusions about what he was. He said, “Yes.”
Shade followed Moon into the cabin, and managed to look contrite, though it appeared to be an effort. He had dressed in a plain, dark-colored shirt and pants of the same light material used for work clothes for hunters and warriors. The small pack he carried couldn’t have held much food, but he had at least left his good jewelry at home, and wore only a copper bracelet and an anklet with copper and ivory disks. He said, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry you did this?” Moon folded his arms. “I don’t think so.”
Shade didn’t argue that. He offered, “I’m sorry everyone’s upset.”
Moon hissed under his breath. “If Malachite sends us all home, will you be sorry for that?”
“She won’t!”
“You don’t know that.”
“But the trap is better this way.” Shade seemed utterly certain of this. “It may not be Lithe the Fell want at all. It may be me.”
“That’s exactly what Malachite is afraid of.”
Shade appeared to at least consider this, looking a little troubled, but he didn’t volunteer to return to the colony. “I was hanging onto the bottom of the boat all day. Can I have something to eat?”
Moon gave in. “Come on,” he said wearily, and took Shade to the main cabin for food.
* * *
By dawn they had an escort, one of the flying bladder-boats. It was a fairly big one, with several balconies built out from its boat-shaped cabin, possibly for firing weapons. No one shot at them or appeared in any of the doorways, but Moon spotted several faces peering at them through the glass windows.
“It’s a primitive contraption.” Delin studied it through a copper spyglass. “I wonder how they steer it.”
“With great difficulty?” Chime suggested, leaning on the railing beside Delin.
“At least they aren’t trying to stop us,” Moon said. The occupants of the bladder-boat had to know the Raksura were returning; several of the warriors in their winged forms perched on the cabin roof, the railings, or up on the lookout post atop the mast.
Moon looked toward the bow, where Celadon, Ivory, and Shade stood. Just coming into view was the seated statue carved out of the plateau, the lake at its feet, and other bladder-boats making their slow way toward it. Shade gripped the railing, his whole body language expressing rapt attention.
At least he’s enjoying it,
Moon thought, still feeling a little sour about the whole situation.
The wind grew gusty and strong as they drew near the city, and Delin ordered the warriors to help him close up and fasten the sails. Depending on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds, the ship was less at the mercy of the wind than the Aventerans’ bladder-boats. But it could still be torn apart in a bad storm, and the harsh gusts made it difficult to maneuver.
An Aventeran, wrapped up in a heavy coat, stepped out onto one of the bladder-boat’s balconies and shouted at them in Kedaic, telling them where to land. Since flying boats didn’t actually land on the ground, this could be a problem. Grumbling under his breath, Delin sent Chime to the steering cabin for something he called a speaking tube, which turned out to be a cone that amplified the voice somewhat when you shouted through it.
Leaning over the rail to look at the platform the Aventeran had indicated, Moon asked, “Can you even get the boat down there?”
“Eventually.” With an air of dissatisfaction, Delin examined the spot with his spyglass. “They have some hooks and rings for tying off their own craft. I would have to drop the anchor blocks, tie off to secure them, and then winch the ship down.” He lowered the spyglass and frowned. “It would be easier if we tied off at this level and one of you flew me over to a balcony.”
Celadon and Ivory had come over to listen. Celadon said, “Tell them that. Depending on the conversation we have, we may not be staying long.”
Delin took the speaking tube from Chime and conducted an argument with the bladder-boat. Finally it gave in and they were directed to a broad, relatively sheltered balcony just below the right shoulder of the giant statue.
As Delin maneuvered the boat closer, Moon saw several Aventerans appear on the balcony. He recognized Ennia, but Havram was absent. Hopefully that was a good sign. From their grim expressions, none of the Aventerans were particularly glad to see them.
Ivory studied the balcony with a faint frown. “Should I come with you?” she asked Celadon.
“No. I’ll take my warriors, Moon, and Delin. And no, not you, Shade,” she added as he opened his mouth to object. “You’re here against my will and without Malachite’s permission, and I have no intention of rewarding you with a tour of a groundling city.”
Shade subsided and at least looked a little chastened.
Lithe hunched her shoulders in a spine-settling gesture that looked odd on her slim groundling form. “Be careful. They don’t look friendly.”
“Did you ever have any auguries?” Celadon asked her.
“No.” Lithe’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disappointment. “I tried twice last night, and again this morning. All I can see is danger from the Fell, nothing certain. It’s blotting out everything else like a huge thundercloud.”
That wasn’t encouraging.
“Just watch the tiller, and make certain nothing jars it, and all should be well,” Delin told Chime. Delin had chosen him to be in charge of the boat while he was gone, and Moon had chosen Floret to make certain Ivory’s warriors listened to Chime and to enforce any commands he gave.
Two warriors carried the lines over to the balcony to secure the boat and keep it from drifting away, then Moon took Delin and flew across with Celadon and her warriors.
Ennia nodded gravely to them and led them through an arched doorway into a large room. It didn’t look like it was meant for meetings or even for sitting in comfort. The walls and floor were all polished stone, and there were no rugs or furniture. It was lit by one of the arrays of small glowing balls that hung from the ceiling, and two more open doorways led to a hall, which drew the air in off the open balcony and through the room. The cool draft couldn’t be very comfortable for the Aventerans.
Ennia seemed to feel all the awkwardness of the situation. “Celadon, after our last… I did not think you would come again. And in such a strange craft.” She looked almost warily at Delin.
Celadon kept her expression and her voice even and neutral. “It belongs to our friend, Delin-Evran-lindel, a scholar of the Golden Isles. He wishes to speak to you.”
Ennia nodded politely to Delin, but her expression was doubtful. “You are not…”
“A shapeshifter?” he said. “No, merely a friend to the Raksura.”
One of the other Aventerans said, “Being a friend to the Raksura seems to attract danger from other creatures, like the Fell.” Moon recognized him as Livan, the Aventerans’ shaman, or archimaster as Havram had called him. And Livan was being free with his opinions, considering until a few days ago he hadn’t heard of the Fell at all.
Delin eyed him thoughtfully, like Livan was a student who might possibly be worth the effort to instruct. He said, “Why do you say that? From what I understand, you are no friend to the Raksura, having ordered them out of your city after they rescued a child from a Fell ruler.”
Celadon flicked a spine, startled. Possibly because this was what she had wanted to say, and was surprised Delin had said it for her.
Ennia frowned at Livan, but Livan said, stiffly, “If they had never come to our city, the ruler would never have tried to injure the child.”
“No,” Delin admitted. “It would have hid among you until it was time to call down the others, attack your city, destroy it, and eat all your children, followed by all yourselves.”
There was an uneasy stir in the room, as if a wind colder than the draft from the balcony had blown through. Livan started to answer, but swallowed the words. No one argued.
Something happened,
Moon thought.
After we left, something else happened.
Maybe they would be willing to listen after all.
Delin must have expected a rebuttal, but didn’t let himself be thrown off course when it didn’t come. He continued, “I am from the Golden Isles, a small nation to the east, in what is often called the Yellow Sea. The court of Indigo Cloud once drove off an attempt by the Fell to assault our city, so we owe the Raksura our safety and continued existence.”