The Harbors of the Sun
Malachite didn’t move a spine. She said, “I value your plain-speaking.”
“Are you trying to be funny?” Pearl said.
They were in Pearl’s bower, with only the two reigning queens, Celadon, and the Arbora present. Floret and Vine were casually loitering outside the bower’s doorway, making sure no one else came near enough to overhear. Ember had been a little horrified at the idea of having a private meeting with such a prominent queen in Pearl’s bower; he was glad the Arbora had already come through this morning and taken the blankets to air, and rearranged the cushions and the kettle, pot, and tea cups for maximum effect. But having heard what Malachite had wanted to tell Pearl, Ember was glad of the privacy and the precautions. The other news that Malachite had brought had been horrifying enough: Song dead, and Bramble and Merit taken captive by groundlings.
Pearl continued, “You’ve promised these half-Fell a home in the Reaches. How am I supposed to convince the other queens to allow this?”
“I haven’t promised it yet, but I will,” Malachite said. She was as still as the statue above the queens’ hall, but Ember wasn’t reassured by that. Her stillness felt unpredictable, like a predator that could change its mind and strike at any moment. The fact that Pearl was utterly indifferent to the effect was not reassuring. Malachite added, “And you’ve handled the other queens well so far.”
Pearl tilted her head, clearly suspecting irony. “Gathering together to fight off a Fell attack is one thing. They would have to be idiots not to agree to act.”
Celadon leaned forward. “We need the help of the Fellborn queen. If we can find out which progenitor is leading the others, it could save many lives—”
“You don’t need to explain your mad plan to me.” Pearl’s spines almost rattled in frustration. She said to Malachite, “You realize I am ill-suited to this role that you’ve foisted on me. The other queens dislike me almost as much as I dislike them.”
“You are better suited to it than I am.” This time Malachite did move a spine, and Ember was a little astonished to read amusement in it.
“A rock is better suited than you are.” Pearl coiled her tail around, considering the problem. “We need to speak to Zephyr first. Sunset Water has the closest old bloodline ties to us and she is not unreasonable.”
Malachite said, “You dislike her less than the others.”
Ember bit his lip to hold back an involuntary and undignified facial expression. The Arbora controlled their reactions well, though Ember thought he heard a suspiciously sharp exhalation from Knell. This whole situation was terrifying. Malachite had seen the Fell flights gathering in the wetlands outside the Reaches. It was real, it was happening, it was no longer just a vision. What Pearl and Malachite decided here might save or doom so many courts in the eastern Reaches. So much depended on the cooperation of two queens not known for cooperating with anybody, including their own bloodlines.
It should have been a disaster, except Pearl and Malachite seemed to be getting along fine.
Pearl’s eyes narrowed. “I may need something to make our alliance stronger. Zephyr’s intimated that another bloodline alliance with us to strengthen the previous one would be welcomed. Our royal fledglings and the Sky Copper clutch are too young to decide what they want to eat, let alone choose future mates.”
Ember cleared his throat gently, and Pearl flicked her claws toward him. He said, “Sunset Water has two unattached daughter queens. There’s a secondary bloodline with at least two consorts just reaching maturity, and maybe one more soon.”
Malachite lifted a claw toward Celadon, who said, “We have several unattached consorts and queens in Opal Night, including myself and Ivory, a daughter queen of Onyx’s bloodline. We can agree to open negotiations on that point.”
Malachite said, “This privilege would extend only to Sunset Water.” Pearl’s spine flick of acknowledgement was unconcerned. Ember breathed easier now that that was settled. Then Malachite said, “I know you didn’t want Shade and Lithe to enter Indigo Cloud, that it was your consort’s intervention that allowed them in.”
Ember froze. Malachite hadn’t glanced in his direction once but he suddenly felt as if he was a grasseater surrounded by predators. Heart hissed in a breath and Bone, Bell, and Knell went still. Celadon’s glance at Malachite was a combination of appalled and annoyed.
Pearl was the only one unperturbed. She said, “I know you know. I didn’t want the last consort of your bloodline in my court either, and look where that got me.”
Bone made a muffled noise and covered his face with his hands. Everyone else was still frozen.
Malachite moved that one spine again to the slight angle that just might be indicating amusement, but she kept her gaze locked on Pearl. Finally Pearl made an annoyed hiss. She said, “I don’t like surprises. Bone, the one groaning under his breath over there, will attest to that. Next time you want to fundamentally change the nature of Raksuran life in the Reaches, have your warriors bring me a letter first and give me time to think about it.”
The silence stretched. Then Malachite said, “Agreed.”
Ember took a much needed breath, and he saw Heart squeeze her eyes shut in relief. Continuing on as if nothing had happened, Malachite said, “Will you be able to deal with the Fellborn queen?”
“Oh, I’m well used to being forced into decisions against my own better judgment.” Pearl flicked her claws. “It will all be for nothing if your mad plan doesn’t work.”
There might have been a tinge of irony in Malachite’s voice. “It isn’t my mad plan. It was the Fellborn queen’s.”
Pearl snorted. “I’m sure she thinks it is.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sun was setting and the wind carried the scent of the sea when Moon and Stone reached the flying boat.
They took cover in the cliffs above the wide sweep of a bay. Huddled behind a crag of rock, craning his neck to get a view of the shore, Moon said, “At least it’s not another sealed city.”
A metal ruin stretched from the beach at the cliffs’ base out into the shallow water. Tall skinny pylons of different heights supported a series of metal rings, some connected by narrow girders. The metal was dark with age, covered by verdigris, and parts had broken away. Below, stairs led up from the sand to a great stone causeway, a couple of hundred paces wide at least, that extended out into the bay. The pylons that supported it stood in the water or were planted atop rocky outcrops, the waves swirling around them. The causeway was clearly meant to lead to some enormous structure, but nothing was left of it. The end was sheared off and hung out over the empty bay.
Their quarry was suspended in the air above the beach, just to the right of the ruin. The cloudwall loomed on the horizon, wreathed with concealing clouds; there were blue shapes just barely visible that might be mountain peaks, but that was the only discernible detail.
Stone climbed up beside Moon, the gray of his groundling form blending into the rock. He said, “Whatever they’re looking for, it’s got to be up in these cliffs.”
“Maybe,” Moon said. Gaps in the cliff face above the beach held collapsed walls, bridges, terraces, and ruined buildings. But Moon didn’t see any sign that the Hians had sent out exploring parties. “Or underwater, a part of the ruin that fell into the bay.”
Their kethel had landed some distance below them and shifted to its groundling form. It huddled in between the rocks, its gaze going from the Hian boat to Moon and Stone, as if it was wondering what they were going to do. Moon was wondering that himself.
Moon turned and slid down a little, looking out over the shallow valley behind the cliff. There wasn’t much sign of current or ancient habitation among the tall grasses and marshy ponds. The only thing Moon could see that might indicate more ruins were tall mounds of dirt, too rounded to be natural.
Moon doubted the Hians would come out of their boat to explore now, with the shadows lengthening toward evening. His first impulse was to attack at once, before the Hians had a
chance to do whatever they had come here to do. But the Kishan fire weapon emplacements and the smaller handheld versions the crew would undoubtedly be armed with were a problem he couldn’t figure any way around.
Below in the valley one of the mounds shuddered and began to drag itself slowly through the tall grass. A flurry of flying creatures, either large insects or lizards, fluttered into the air, apparently coming out of openings in the moving mound. Some settled back atop its surface, others circled above it. Moon nudged Stone. “What’s that?”
Stone turned to look, and shrugged. “I’ve seen smaller ones, back towards the Reaches. The flying things nest inside the big living rock thing. I don’t know if they’re supposed to be in there, or if they’re parasites.”
Moon flicked his spines. Either possibility was creepy, though since Raksura made their colonies inside living mountain-trees, he supposed he couldn’t object. “We can’t wait for the others. We don’t know how far they are behind us, or if they got our messages.”
Stone grimaced. “I know that.” After a moment he added, “Maybe we could talk the kethel into drawing their fire.”
The kethel looked toward them, its big brow furrowed.
Moon didn’t think the kethel was that stupid. And they just couldn’t trust it for a vital role in their plan. “The Hians wouldn’t have to use fire. They’ve got that weapon.” He didn’t want to end up in pieces, like the Fell in the river trading town.
But Stone was right, they did need a distraction. Moon looked at the big insects again, buzzing in a lazy circle above their hosts. Another mound rippled awake, disgorged another burst of insects, then started to move ponderously toward the streams and marshes at the far end of the valley. Others slowly began to follow. The swarm of disturbed insect-lizards was like a huge dark cloud, big enough for at least two Raksura to get lost in, easily. It was too bad it wasn’t on the other side of the cliff, down on the beach. “What do those things eat?” Not the hosts, or the creatures would be devoured by now. “Why are they in this valley?”
Stone’s brow furrowed, and he turned to regard the swarm. “Not grasseaters. There’s none near here. Probably bugs, since they come out at night. Probably have to fly around to all the marshes to get enough.”
Moon considered. “I wonder if they’d want bug paste.” They still had the packet of it from the swampling city.
Stone tilted his head. “There’s a thought.”
Bramble braced herself as Delin banged on the door of his cage. One of the Hians opened it. Delin said, “She is awake, and I need to take her to the physician.”
The Hian said, “She should stay here.”
Delin gestured in frustration. “The physician must examine her before she collapses again!”
Bramble choked out a moan and clutched her stomach, letting herself half-fall against the wall. The Hian stared at her, then stared at Delin. Delin said, “You saw what happened to Aldoan. The effect may be delayed. Bramble could die.”
The Hian hesitated, then gestured for them to follow her down the corridor. The other Hian on watch at their door followed.
When Bramble had first seen the hanging waterskins in the healer’s room, she had committed all the labels to memory. She had written them down on a piece of paper from Delin’s small stock and fortunately he had recognized the glyphs. He said, “This is a variant of the scholar’s notation of Kedmar, that is used in the library.” He tapped one. “From the indicators for predator and eradication, I surmise this one could be the simple we know as Fell poison. But this one has indicators for liquid and danger. It’s the only one with such a notation.” He met her gaze, his expression serious. “That’s the one we need.”
Bramble held that image in her memory as they approached the healer’s room. “Is she there?” Delin called out. “If she is not there, we will wait inside. Bramble can’t walk back and forth in this condition!”
Exasperated, one of the Hians said, “You were the one who wanted her to walk here in the first place—”
As Bramble had hoped, the healer stepped out into the corridor. “What’s wrong?” She was clearly startled to see Bramble on her feet. “Are you better? You should be lying down.”
“I wanted you to examine her,” Delin said as they reached the doorway. “She seems much better, but has strange pains.”
Bramble gripped the door frame, screwing her face up into a grimace as if she was about to be sick. “Can I sit down?”
The healer motioned to her. “Yes, go ahead—”
“Perhaps it’s the weather here,” Delin said. “I confess, I have felt lately as if the air is thick and difficult to breathe.” As the healer turned toward him, clearly alarmed by that statement, Bramble slipped inside the room and sat down heavily on the bench. The waterskins hadn’t been moved, and her heart thumped in relief. Delin stepped sideways and the healer moved with him, trying to peer into his eyes. As the healer’s back blocked the doorway from view, Bramble leapt across to the waterskins.
Bramble found the one Delin had chosen and took it down. She sniffed the bone cap and got a trace of acridity but no definite odor. This has to be right.
Bramble pressed the skin to her stomach, steeled herself, and shifted. She took the bag with her, the way she could take clothing and jewelry. She had never carried something as big as the waterskin with her through a shift. It caused a distinctly odd warm sensation in her chest. She took a sharp breath and stepped out into the corridor.
The startled healer blinked down at Bramble’s scaled form. The other Hians tensed warily, and one half-lifted her fire weapon. Bramble said to the healer, “I feel better this way, not as sick.”
“Ah, I suppose that makes sense—” the healer began.
Delin cried out, staggered sideways, and collapsed against the nearest Hian. She tried to catch him but he jerked out of her hold and fell to the floor. He clutched his chest, his eyes rolling back in his head, and jerked his legs as if having a seizure. Trying to get to him, the healer shoved past the other Hians. With their attention diverted, Bramble said, “I’ll get help!” and darted down the corridor.
She was lucky that the healer’s room was near the stern of the ship. She dropped down the nearest stairwell, heard voices in the corridor, and jumped up to flatten herself against the stem-like beam that crossed the ceiling. She pressed against the moss and didn’t breathe as two Hians passed beneath her. She couldn’t tell if she was just imagining the waterskin’s phantom weight against her scales. She hoped the fact that it was poison wouldn’t affect her. Though if it did, there was so much of it, surely she would have dropped dead by now.
The Hians turned into another corridor and Bramble dropped soundlessly to the floor. She skittered around the next two turns, took refuge in an empty room when someone else passed, and made it down the next stairwell.
She avoided the heavily guarded corridor that led down to Merit’s cage. She needed a big distraction before she could get him out, though if they were lucky the poison would work fast enough to provide that.
If this boat was like Callumkal’s, then the cistern was down a level in a supply hold. Bramble rounded the next corner.
That was when a Hian stepped out of a doorway halfway down the corridor. She was facing away, still sliding the door closed. She wasn’t wearing a fire weapon. Bramble bounded forward and leapt.
The Hian turned toward her but didn’t have a chance to make more than a strangled yell before Bramble slammed into her. Bramble ripped her claws across the Hian’s head and felt them glance off the armor plate. Unexpectedly strong hands clawed at her face, and Bramble stabbed her claws into the Hian’s neck. Blood bubbled up and the Hian gasped, the breath strangled in her ruined throat.
The Hian went limp and Bramble let the body drop. She tilted her head to listen. No running footsteps sounded from nearby corridors. The moss walls tended to dampen noise, and there must be no one near enough to hear. Bramble twitched away the blood on her claws and thought, I need to hurry.
She pulled the body into a cabin, slid the door closed, and hurried on. Hopefully no one would notice the blood on the soft cork floor, at least not right away. At the next junction she found the narrow stairs down to the lower level. At the bottom was a corridor with a low ceiling, with larger stem-beams. Just like Callunkal’s boat, this was the hold, where the supplies were stored.
Bramble pushed open the first sliding door and slipped inside. The space was dark, crammed with ceramic containers and bundles and boxes, and it smelled grainy and of sweet greens and earthy roots. The smell was enough like the storage chambers in the Indigo Cloud colony tree that homesickness pierced Bramble’s heart like a claw. She passed it all by, heading toward the cold wet scent toward the far end.
The big ceramic cistern held the water supply, and also rainwater from collectors that ran up to the top of the flying boat. It had a hatch to the outside where it could be filled and drained. Pipes ran from it to the water flushes in the ship’s latrines and the drinking water taps in the cabins. Bramble knew all about it from helping fill the one on Callumkal’s boat.
She opened the small cover in the top that allowed the water to be checked for freshness, then shifted to her groundling form. To her relief, the waterskin was still intact, still heavy with the poison.
She pulled the stopper out and dumped the clear liquid into the water. The healer was the only one she regretted, but then the healer was the one who had probably made the poisons Vendoin had used on everyone on the sunsailer.
She hoped Vendoin and Bemadin died in pain.
As she closed the cover, the pipes whooshed as someone used one of the water sources somewhere in the ship. That’s that, Bramble thought.
She rolled up the empty skin and hid it under a pile of bags, then slipped back out of the hold to the corridor. She leaned against the door, bracing herself. Now she needed to try to release Merit. If there were too many Hians blocking her way to him . . .