“It’s not a leaf boat?” Chime asked. There were groundlings who lived in the lower, swampy parts of the Reaches on the forest floor, who could build some forms of flying transports. But they never came up as far as the top of the mist, let alone the suspended forest. “Does it look like it’s from the swamps?”
“It could be from the swamps, but it doesn’t look anything like a leaf boat.” Aura’s expression showed she knew that that was not a good sign. “I don’t think it’s from the Reaches at all.”
Jade hissed through her fangs. “Balm, you and Chime, and Vine, Aura, and Serene come with me and Moon. The rest of you get back to the colony.”
“You don’t think—” Chime began, and then settled his spines. “No, of course not,” he answered his own question.
Moon was certain he had been about to say, You don’t think this has anything to do with the Fell. This was the first unusual thing to happen since the night of the shared dream and it was hard not to wonder. Though it was also hard to imagine what a strange groundling boat would have to do with the Fell. It couldn’t be a request for help; strange groundlings usually thought Raksura were Fell.
Stone said, “I think I’ll come along too.”
Jade flicked her spines at him. “I was counting on you.”
They flew through the green caverns of the suspended forest, following as Aura and Serene led them toward the flying boat.
A queen wouldn’t have expected an ordinary consort to come with her to investigate a possible incursion by strange groundlings. But if Moon had been an ordinary consort, he would never have been out here in the first place. In the past couple of turns he hadn’t really gotten the court away from the idea of “young consorts don’t risk themselves, don’t do anything except sit around the colony and look pretty” but had got most of them to come around to “but Moon is not a normal young consort, and never will be.”
Since Pearl had taken Ember, and Moon and Jade had had their first clutch, the court’s future was far more secure. There was less pressure on Moon to be well-behaved, and less on Jade to make him act the way other courts thought he ought to. Though for most of the past turn, there hadn’t been much for Moon to do except take care of fledglings.
The flying boat wasn’t far away; if they hadn’t been so focused on the hunt, they might have sensed its presence sooner. But then that was why Jade had sent Aura and the others to scout the area, to make sure nothing else dangerous had been attracted by the presence of the warriors.
As they drew closer Moon saw the boat had stopped in a sun shaft. These were places where a mountain-tree had collapsed from old age and had left a large open spot in the canopy, where the sun had penetrated all the way to the ground, burning away the mist layers. They weren’t common and could harbor unknown and therefore even more dangerous fauna than usual; they also caused a whole host of different sun-loving flora to flourish, including plants and small trees that rarely grew in the Reaches at all. Moon had never had a chance to explore one, and didn’t expect to have the opportunity now. The strange flying boat was excitement enough for the moment.
They landed and took cover on an upper branch of one of the mountain-trees surrounding the sun shaft. From this vantage point they could look down on the flying boat, but were screened from view by the hanging curtains of leaves. Moon crouched between Jade and Chime, with Balm on Jade’s other side. Vine, Aura, and Serene hung back a little, and Stone landed on the branch above them, settling down into a crouch. His tail hung down behind Moon and the others, moving in slow thoughtful circles.
Low-voiced, Chime said, “Aura is right, that’s nothing like a Golden Islander boat.”
The craft was big, and not made out of wood or plant fiber like the other groundling trading and exploring boats they had encountered. It looked like it was made of moss, or some sort of dense wiry plant material very like it. It had a pointed bow with a triangular spine sweeping up to form the main hull and the square stern. It had multiple decks on either side of the spine, balconies in the lower hull, and clear coverings for the window openings like an Aventeran flying boat, but the shapes and angles and materials were completely different. And Aventeran boats always had air bladders, and this one clearly didn’t.
There was no one out on the deck, but there was no scent of death in the air, either.
Vine said, “At least it’s not Fell.” Aura and Serene murmured agreement.
Chime said to Jade, “It could just be lost.”
“It could be, but it wouldn’t have come into the Reaches accidentally.” Jade twitched her spines uneasily. “If they wanted to trade with one of the amphibian races, it’s in completely the wrong place.”
“Maybe it’s completely lost.” Moon edged along the branch, trying to get a better view through the screen of leaves. It was a possibility, but he didn’t think any species capable of building—or growing—and piloting a craft like this would be inept enough to lose their way this drastically. Whoever this was, they were probably looking for a Raksuran court. “We need to get a better look.”
Jade hesitated, but Moon could tell how much she wanted to figure this out before they had to return to the colony. He said, “It looks pretty stable. They wouldn’t notice if we landed on the side.”
Jade glanced at him, brows lifted ironically. “And you’re sure of this?”
Moon snorted. “No.”
She smiled, and unfurled her wings. “It’s worth a try.”
Above them, Stone stirred but didn’t shift to argue with their decision. There was no way he could land on the boat without the groundling crew being aware of it.
Jade said, “Moon, you take that lower set of windows and I’ll take the upper. I’ll go first. The rest of you stay here,” she added, as Balm, who probably wanted to go too, drew breath to protest.
Jade crouched and leapt, and landed on the side of the flying boat. She clung to the hull and Moon let out a hiss of relief; the boat hadn’t moved, as far as he could tell. Whatever was keeping it in the air held it remarkably still. It might be held aloft by a tiny fragment of flying island, like a Golden Isles wind-ship. Jade waited a few moments, her head held to the hull to listen for anyone calling the alarm. Then she signaled to Moon.
Chime whispered, “Careful.”
Moon crouched and made his own leap. His claws caught on the rough hull. It was like moss to the touch, but it wasn’t damp and felt too dense for vibrations to travel through.
Above him, Jade climbed toward the nearest window. The clear crystal insets were probably another reason why the inhabitants hadn’t heard anything. Moon swung down to the one below him and peered through.
The crystal distorted the view a little but he could see it was an empty room. There were shelves built into the far wall with cushions for padding and blankets, and a few odd belongings strewn around, including a colorful wrap or shawl, and a stacked collection of crockery. This was someone’s, or multiple someone’s, living quarters. He climbed along to another set of windows and found another empty sleeping room, and then the next few rooms stacked with bundles and casks. But then the next held something more interesting.
Moon gripped the edge of the window with one hand and leaned back, waved until Jade glanced down and started toward him.
Moon pulled himself back to the window. Inside, a groundling sat on the floor, half turned away from the window, hunched over and writing in a book. There was something familiar about his shape. He was small, with long white hair tied back, gold skin, a beard long enough that he had flung the end back over his shoulder to get it out of his way. He turned a little so his profile was visible and Moon felt his spines twitch in startled reaction. It was Delin-Evran-lindel.
Moon leaned back from the window. Jade crouched on the hull just above him, holding on with all her claws. He whispered, “It’s Delin.”
She frowned. “What is he doing in this thing?” Delin was a Golden Islander, and they had never seen him use a flying boat like this.
> Moon could think of at least one bad reason. If someone had wanted to find a Raksuran colony tree, they might have decided to steal Delin and force him to show them the way. “Let’s ask him.”
Jade nodded for him to go ahead, and Moon tapped a claw on the crystal.
Delin looked up, startled, then waved enthusiastically. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the window, turned the catch on the inside and swung it open. Voice low, he said, “I was hoping you would find me. I have much to tell you.”
Jade drew back and motioned for Moon to go ahead. “I’ll stay out here.”
Moon climbed in through the window and dropped to the floor. He shifted to groundling; though Delin had never been afraid of Raksuran scales and claws, it seemed more polite in this confined space. In soft-skinned groundling form, Moon was tall and slender, with bronze skin, dark hair, and green eyes. His clothes were simple brown pants and shirt, dirty now that the mud and moss that had been on his scales had transferred to the cloth, and the only jewelry he wore was his red-gold consort’s bracelet. The ability to make the shift and take objects with you from one form to the other was something fledglings learned very young; Moon had been lucky his foster mother Sorrow had taught him before she died.
The other reason for shifting was the number of groundling species who resembled some version of this form, though with varying colors, shapes, and textures. If someone else stepped into the cabin unexpectedly, Moon would pass for an ordinary groundling, and cause a moment of confusion that might buy him time to escape, rather than immediate terror and screams for help. Moon said, “Delin, did these people steal you?”
“Not exactly.” Delin patted his arm. “But I am happy to see a friendly face.”
The cabin was small but high-ceilinged, and the heavy rafters that supported the deck above crossed it lengthwise. They looked like the stems or stalks of a large plant. There was a bed space built into one wall and a basin for water, and various shelves for belongings, though Delin didn’t seem to have brought many. There was only a small pack and a basket, and not much in the way of paper and writing materials. Knowing how many books Delin normally traveled with on his own wind-ship, that in itself was suspicious. The door was fan-folded, light enough that Delin could probably have battered through it. But this was a flying boat and there was nowhere for a groundling to escape to.
“How do you mean ‘not exactly?’” Moon asked. Delin looked the same, though it had been more than two turns since Moon had seen him. He was elderly for a Yellow Sea groundling and his gold skin was weathered by turns of wind-ship travel, but he smelled like he was in good health. He wore the kind of clothes Golden Islanders usually wore on their ships or for outdoor work: a loose shirt and pants cut off at the knee, of a light fabric.
“The story is long and somewhat fraught.” Delin sat down on the bed and Moon crouched on the floor. “The thing you must know immediately is that these people are of Kish-Jandera, one of the coastal territories of the Imperial Kish. They wish to find the Indigo Cloud court. I have said I would tell them the way, but after we entered the Reaches, I have willfully misremembered the route for these past few days, in the hope that I could warn you first.”
“All right.” If this was anybody but Delin, it would have been alarming and suspicious. It still was, but Moon had seen Delin navigate his way through some tricky situations. “Why do they want to talk to Raksura?”
“Not just Raksura, but you in particular.” Delin leaned forward, his expression intent. “Moon, they have found an ancient city. I fear it may have been built by the forerunners, like the city you discovered on the northwestern coast.”
Moon stared, and felt his back teeth start to itch from pure nervous reaction. “Where?”
A faint sound outside the door warned him, a footstep on the cork floor. Moon shifted and leapt for the ceiling, sinking his claws into the moss, curling his body up along one of the big stems that supported the structure. The door rattled and a voice said, “Delin?”
Delin stood and faced the door. “Yes?”
The folding door was pushed open and a groundling stepped through, passed under Moon as it crossed the cabin toward Delin.
The groundling was about Moon’s height, with a dark cap of short, tightly curled hair and reddish brown skin that was rough and almost pebbly; it wasn’t scaled, but it looked thick and tough. He was probably male. He wore a loose jacket of red-brown with figured designs in dull gold, open at the chest, and tight pants that went to the knees, with knee-high sandals with elaborately wrapped straps. The materials looked rich and carefully worked.
Moon dropped lightly to the deck, and shifted back to his groundling form by the time his bare feet touched the floorboards. He pushed the door shut.
The figure turned and fell back a startled step. His dark eyes opened wide, revealing a second lower eyelid.
Behind him, Delin said, “He is Moon of Indigo Cloud, a consort of the Raksura. So be very careful what you say and do.” He added to Moon, “This is Callumkal, Master Scholar of the Conclave of the Janderan.”
Callumkal eyed Moon. Moon knew he didn’t look terribly impressive at the moment, standing barefoot on the deck in mud- and moss-stained work clothes. Callumkal glanced back at Delin and said, “I thought you might be delaying intentionally.” He spoke Altanic, one of the more common eastern trade languages. He didn’t sound angry, but it was always hard to read emotions accurately off strange groundlings. He was wearing a leather harness under his open jacket, the straps hanging down below it. The dark leather was almost the same color as Callumkal’s skin, and Moon hadn’t noticed it at first, and had thought the buckles were jewelry. It looked utilitarian, and was worn in spots as if it had been used for hard work. Moon just couldn’t figure out what sort of work. For riding some kind of grasseater, maybe. Except these groundlings had a flying boat; why would they need to bring riding grasseaters?
“It is better to speak here, away from the colony.” Delin was undisturbed at being caught with a Raksura in his room. “Everyone will be more comfortable.”
Callumkal inclined his head. “You could have explained that.”
“Could I?” Delin shrugged. “Probably.”
That Delin, one of the most straightforward groundlings of any race that Moon had ever met, felt the need to dissemble didn’t bode well. Moon said in Raksuran, “And you said these people didn’t steal you.”
“They did not,” Delin answered in the same language. He must have been practicing since the last time they met, though his accent was still terrible. “But they were determined on this course. It was better to let them think they were in command while I navigated from the stern.”
Callumkal waited patiently for Delin to finish speaking. Then he looked at Moon. “You understand Altanic?”
“Yes.” Moon stepped away from the door. If there was going to be a fight, he didn’t want to start it. And moving put him closer to the window, where he knew Jade must be listening.
“Delin told us about your experience in the ancient underwater city. We only wish to speak to you about it.” Callumkal glanced at Delin again, and his voice was tinged with what might be irony. “I’m sure he has told you by now, that we have located a place we believe to be similar, perhaps constructed by the same species, perhaps not. We intend to try to enter it, and wish to be as forearmed as possible.”
“It might not matter how forearmed you are,” Moon said. “There are some things you can’t prepare for.”
When some groundlings spoke with a Raksura for the first time, they seemed surprised. Moon could usually tell if it was surprise that Raksura could speak a civilized language, or surprise that they could talk at all. It was ironic that the Fell rulers, the most dangerous and deadly predators of groundlings, were fluent in any number of languages, and that friendly races like the Kek had difficulty with everything but their own speech because of the structure of their vocal apparatus.
Callumkal was the kind of groundling who was surpr
ised that a Raksura could sound so civilized. He got over it quickly, though, saying, “Delin has told us about what happened in the underwater city. I was hoping for a first-person account.”
“Why?” Moon tilted his head. “You already know from Delin what we found. Would hearing it from me make you change your mind about what you plan to do?”
“Probably not,” Callumkal admitted. “But if my party doesn’t enter this city, I fear who else will.”
Moon looked at Delin. Delin told him, “That was one of the things I wish to speak to you about.” He added to Callumkal, “It is better if my friends and I speak in private. There are others I wish to consult.” He started briskly toward the window.
In Raksuran, Moon said, “Jade, Delin’s about to jump out. Be sure to catch him.”
As Callumkal stared, uncomprehending, Delin boosted himself into the open window. Callumkal began, “You can’t mean to—”
Delin heaved himself out head first. Moon heard the whish of Jade’s wings an instant later. This let him approach the window at a leisurely pace. He was curious to see whether Callumkal would try to stop him.
Callumkal seemed too nonplussed to react. Moon said, “He’ll send word to you in the morning.” He caught hold of the sill and slipped out.
He dropped and shifted, and snapped his wings out. He heard someone cry out in alarm from above. He flapped into the cover of the tree canopy and landed on the branch where Jade stood with Delin and the warriors. Delin was looking up at Stone’s large form and smiling. He said, “Friend Stone! It is good to see you again. It’s good to see all of you.”
“We like you too,” Chime told him, bewildered, “but what are you doing here?”
“First, a warning.” Delin turned to Moon. “You saw the harness Callumkal wore?”
Moon nodded, remembering that Delin wouldn’t be able to read the flash of spines that meant assent. “I was wondering about that.”
“It attaches to a device that holds a plant material, the same as in the construction of their sky-ship, that allows the wearer a simple, limited form of flight.”