Jade had also been visiting the fledglings frequently, though at first, Frost had regarded her with suspicion. Just what she was suspicious of, Moon didn’t have a clue. But recently, Frost had started to seem more curious than wary, watching Jade play with the young Arbora and other fledglings and occasionally joining in.
But this was apparently going to be a good day, because Frost said, “Hello, Dash,” obediently enough, and climbed into Dash’s lap by way of apology.
“Hello, Dash,” Thorn echoed, and added, “Frost is hungry; I’m not. I don’t want to go in yet.”
Thorn had been doing better than the other two, but he was also better at concealing his feelings. Being pretty good at concealing his feelings himself, Moon found it easy to tell, but he wasn’t certain anyone else had noticed.
“But did they check the underroots?” Dash asked, absently looping an arm around Frost and letting her settle in his lap, though his attention was still on the platform. His scaly brow knit in worry. “It doesn’t look stable to me.”
“It doesn’t?” Moon craned his neck to look down again. Maybe the near end of the platform was slumping a little. But several Arbora were occupied with digging out the channel, and another was at the opposite end of the dry pool, pulling dead vines out of the broken clay, and none seemed worried by it. Moon wondered if they could tell; the slump might not be noticeable unless you were viewing the platform from this angle. He decided to take the kids inside and then fly back over and let the Arbora know—
The Arbora who was digging out the vines yanked at a recalcitrant clump, throwing her entire body into it. The vines came loose in a spray of dirt and she sat down hard. A crack sounded from below, loud enough to startle the Arbora working on the nearby platforms. The nearest patrolling warriors abruptly veered toward the mountain-tree’s trunk.
The Arbora on the slumping platform froze in place, looking down. Then half the platform split off and crumbled away beneath their feet.
Dash made a strangled noise of horror and the fledglings squeaked in alarm. Several Arbora next to the wooden shaft of the drain outlet clung to the torn roots still attached to the branch, as chunks of the clay pool came apart under them. The nearest warriors dove for them, but the female on the far end of the platform flailed as the dirt dissolved around her. She made a wild grab for a big root, and for an instant it supported her, then it jerked loose and sent her tumbling down with the rest of the debris.
The warriors were close enough to get the others, but not her. Moon pushed Bitter and Thorn toward Dash. “Stay with him!” Then he shoved to his feet and dove headfirst off the branch.
Plummeting through the air, Moon had to fight the urge to shift. But as he fell past the crumbling platform, it rained chunks of dirt, clay, and broken roots down on him; he couldn’t extend his wings in this debris. Without them, he might as well take advantage of his heavier groundling body to fall faster.
Far below the Arbora tried frantically not to fall faster, clawing at the mass of roots unraveling around her.
The last of the debris from above dropped away and Moon shifted. He snapped his wings out for two hard beats, stooping on the Arbora like prey on the wing, and snatched her out of the air. She keened in his ear as she grabbed him, but managed not to sink her claws through his scales. He caught movement above him and twisted instinctively, pulling his wings in. A hillock-sized clump of wood and dirt fell past, barely missing them.
Up by the fallen platform, Moon saw the warriors had retrieved the other Arbora from the platform.
Good, they got them all.
Watching helplessly while an Arbora fell to his or her death was not something Moon wanted to do, ever.
He twisted around and spread his wings again, angled them back to catch air and slow his fall. Turning the headlong plunge into a glide, he came around toward the waterfall, away from any more falling debris. “You all right?” he asked the Arbora. From her build and dark green scales, he thought she might be Plum, one of the younger hunters. But her face was buried against his chest and he couldn’t be sure.
She made a choking noise and nodded. Moon took another swing around, to check where the rest of the debris would fall. The Kek, groundlings who lived among mountain-tree roots, had a village beneath the tree, but it was on the far side of the trunk from here and further out. And the biggest chunks of wood and dirt were hitting the slope of the trunk and disintegrating; none of the debris would make it to the ground in big enough pieces to cause damage to any Kek who happened to be foraging below.
Moon found a draft and rode it up, hoping he hadn’t broken any of Plum’s ribs. He had tried not to hit her too hard, but he hadn’t wanted to risk overshooting her either.
He came up over one of the big garden platforms, where warriors circled overhead and a group had gathered around the other rescued Arbora. Moon swept in to land lightly on the grass, and tried to set his Arbora on her feet. She shifted to groundling, but didn’t let go of him.
Chime reached them first, partially extending his wings for a long leap across the platform, over the heads of the Arbora who bounded toward them. “Is she all right?” he demanded, patting Plum’s hair anxiously. “Are you all right?”
Plum took a deep breath and managed to unclamp her hands. “Yes, I am.” She looked up at Moon. Her eyes were wide and her skin had flushed a dark copper; she looked as if she was about to be sick. “Thank you, Moon. I’ve never—I’ve never fallen before—I mean, Sage dropped me once accidentally when we were little, but it was only a few paces—”
The other Arbora reached them, Merit, Bark, and Rill first. With exclamations of relief and sympathy, they coaxed Plum away from Moon and guided her over to sit down.
“It’s lucky you were there,” Chime muttered, watching them. “I don’t think any of the warriors were close enough or fast enough to catch her.”
“You’re a warrior,” Moon pointed out. It still occasionally slipped Chime’s mind.
Chime gave him an exasperated look. He hated being reminded. “I know, but I couldn’t have caught her.”
He might be right; consorts could fly almost twice as fast as warriors, and Plum had been trapped in the falling debris for a good while. But Moon had been close enough to help and there was no point in wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t been here. “You didn’t ‘hear’ anything before the platform cracked?”
“No.” Chime grimaced. “Still useless.”
Since they had returned from the leviathan city months ago, Chime had been having erratic flashes of insight, but it was always about things that they didn’t really need to know. He could sometimes tell when a cloud-walker went by overhead, so far above the forest it was invisible even to Raksuran eyes. If Heart put him in a light trance, he could hear deep rumbling voices, which the mentors thought might come from the mountain-trees. But he hadn’t been able to augur or predict anything, or tell where dangerous predators were. It was disappointing, but then Chime’s strange new senses had been so much help on the leviathan, it seemed like ingratitude to expect more.
Toward the trunk, Moon caught a glimpse of Jade, spiraling down with Balm to examine the place where the platform had given way. Knell, the leader of the Arbora soldiers’ caste, was standing on the edge of this platform, waiting for them. Hands planted on his hips, his whole body was expressive of disgruntled disgust.
He’s right, we didn’t need this,
Moon thought.
Then Pearl landed nearby, scattering Arbora. She looked around at them and said, “No one’s hurt?”
“Everyone’s all right,” Rill told her. “The warriors got them in time. Moon saved Plum.”
Then Pearl focused on Moon. “Where are the fledglings?”
Alarmed, Moon looked up at the branch. But Dash had them, bringing them down the wide path atop the branch toward the climbing ridge along the trunk. Bitter, in his winged form, clung securely to Dash’s neck, and Dash was leading Frost with a firm grip on her wrist. She was craning her neck to watch the activity on the platform, and hanging on to Thorn, who trailed docilely along behind. There was nothing wrong with Dash’s instincts as a teacher, either; Frost was definitely the one most likely to make trouble.
Pearl followed his gaze and her spines twitched, in relief or possibly thwarted irritation. She couldn’t blame Moon for leaving the fledglings with an elderly and respected teacher. Pearl hissed, and looked for the next target. “Knell!”
Knell bounded over to land nearby. His spines carefully flat, he said, “They think it was the water. The channel for the fountain was plugged, but the water inside it was seeping out and wearing away at the platform’s roots.”
“Of course it was.” Pearl turned to look across this platform, then up at the ones nested in the higher branches and dripping roots and vines. “We’ll need to check every platform with a channel, plugged or not.”
Knell was tough, but Moon saw him brace himself as he told her, “Jade and Balm are starting that now.”
But one of the things Moon had learned about Pearl was that she never reacted the way anyone thought she would. Instead of an angry outburst at Jade’s presumption, she confined herself to an ironic snort. She said, “I’ll send warriors to help them.” She glanced around at the Arbora who had gathered to listen. “I want you to keep off the platforms with blocked pools, but are you willing to stay out here and finish the planting?”
Knell looked at the others, taking in their mood. Some looked uneasy or reluctant, but most nodded. Someone in the back said, “I guess now we know what the upheaval in the augury is.”
There were a few murmurs of rueful agreement. Another Arbora said, “We need to get the ripe berries picked on the lower platforms. I don’t think we can afford to waste the day.”
Pearl nodded in acknowledgement. “Work as quickly as you can.” She crouched and sprang into the air, snapped her wings out, powerful beats taking her up toward the knothole.
Chime let his breath out in relief. “That went better than I expected.”
Moon had to agree. “Are you going to help Jade and Balm?” Chime had a better eye for detail than the average warrior.
Chime nodded absently. “I’d better. I think I’ll start with this platform.”
Knell gave Chime an annoyed glare. “This one doesn’t have a blocked drain.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Chime leapt into the air.
Knell turned to Moon, and said, a little stiffly, “Will you stay out here?” Knell was another of Chime’s clutchmates, but when Moon had first arrived, he had been one of the Arbora who had objected to him joining the court. Even after everything that had happened since, it still seemed to color all their dealings. “It would make the others less uneasy.”
Some of the other Arbora still within earshot were watching Moon anxiously. “It’d sure make me less uneasy,” Spice seconded fervently.
Moon thought they were overestimating his abilities, especially if one of the large platforms collapsed. But it was good to be asked. “I’ll stay,” he said.
Chapter Three
T
he Arbora worked for the rest of the afternoon, mostly to get the berries picked and the essential planting done. But they also checked over the blocked drainage and irrigation channels for signs of leaks or weakening supports. Working from below, Jade and Balm and the other warriors found several spots that needed attention, enough to know they would have to carefully check every platform on the tree.
Everyone came in at dusk, and after the berry harvest had been stored away, Moon and most of the court ended up sitting in the greeting hall talking over the situation, worrying, and forming and discarding various plans of action. Everyone knew the platform gardens were too important to their survival to lose. The hunting here was good but they still needed the root crops and ground fruit to augment their food supply. They had traded some of the cloth and raw materials brought from the former colony to Emerald Twilight for dried tea and native root seedlings, but they couldn’t trade for all the food they needed. Especially after Tempest’s aborted visit, when their relations with Emerald Twilight might be even more uncertain than they had been before.
“It might be the fact that the seed was missing for a while,” Merit said, when appealed to for his opinion as a mentor. “The damage inside the tree healed, but if it killed some roots and branches in the platforms...”
Chime snorted in disagreement. “We would have noticed before now.” He tended to give the younger male mentors a lot of attitude, and the others speculated that it might be pure jealousy of their powers. Moon was fairly certain it was pure jealousy of their powers.
Bone shook his head. He looked weary and worried, as if his age was wearing on him. “It’s possible, but it might just be the rot from the blocked channels. The water’s had to go somewhere, and it’s been draining right through some of those platforms.”
Jade said, “We can figure out how it happened later. What we need to do is decide how to repair the damaged branches and roots.” Pearl had already left with most of her coterie, but Jade had been listening thoughtfully, chin propped on her hand, letting the others give voice to their fears and worries. Though Moon could tell she was tired and ready to get away from them all for a while.
As the others all started to offer different ideas for the repair, Moon got up, threaded his way through them, and sat on his heels next to Jade. He leaned against her side, his groundling body against the warmth of her scales, and nuzzled her shoulder. Jade took his wrist and immediately pushed to her feet, tugging him along with her. Chime and Balm glanced up, both with inquiring looks. Moon shook his head slightly, telling them to stay behind. If Jade had wanted more company, she would have signaled for them to follow.
Once they had climbed up the inner well and were safely inside Jade’s bower, she groaned, a comment on the whole long day. “We should have checked the platforms as soon as we got here. I should have thought of that.”
“The tree looked solid,” Moon pointed out. He shifted to his groundling form, going to the bowl hearth to put the kettle on the warming stones. “And it had been like this for turns with no problems.” Which did lend weight to Merit’s theory that the rot had been caused by the seed’s removal.