Heart could feel the skepticism rolling off Pearl in a wave. Malachite gave no hint of her own reaction. Malachite said, “How?”
Consolation settled her shoulders, her own spines moving, though Heart wasn’t sure what that meant. She said, “I have secret information and she has to come to me to get it. Then she comes and we kill her. This will do what we want, make her flight and the others confused and easier to kill.”
Pearl hissed in disbelief. “And you think that will work?”
The dakti tilted its head to look up at her and said, “It worked on us.”
Pearl deliberately turned her gaze on it and it cringed and edged back a step.
The tip of Malachite’s tail moved in a small circle. “One of the other progenitors won’t take the lead?”
That was what Heart was wondering. The problem was that they had very little idea of how Fell flights cooperated, or didn’t cooperate, with each other. They knew the flights shared knowledge, maybe through bloodline connections between the rulers. Maybe the same way that the rulers of a flight knew one of their own had been killed, and how they could locate the body unless the head was severed and buried. But Heart had never known of two flights cooperating. This idea of different Fell flights massing for a single purpose was new and horrible.
Consolation said, “None of the others are as powerful as her. They’ll try to take the lead, but the others will resist, and they’ll fight.”
Pearl and Malachite looked at each other. Watching the accord between them, Heart realized she had never seen two reigning queens work in concert like this.
Pearl’s spines moved in inquiry and Malachite moved one spine in response. Heart wasn’t even sure what that meant, but Pearl hissed again and said to Consolation, “What secret information?”
Consolation seemed exasperated. “Can’t I just tell them it’s something secret?”
Pearl regarded Malachite again, her spines twitching in irritation. Heart read that expression clearly as I can’t. I’d have to kill her. You do it. With the patience of a rock, Malachite said to Consolation, “Send a message, tell her you know where another Raksuran colony is, a small one, not well guarded, closer to the fringe. You won’t lead her to it, but you’ll tell her where it is when she meets you.”
Pearl’s spines moved in thoughtful consideration. “When the progenitor asks why she wants to meet instead of just sending the direction?”
Malachite tilted her head at Pearl. “She wants something in return.”
“A big tree, but not like this, a better one,” Consolation supplied. The dakti nudged her, but whether it was to urge her to be quiet or agree about the tree, it was hard to tell. “With an inside,” Consolation added.
Pearl and Malachite ignored her. Pearl said, “The Fell aren’t going to believe that.”
This time it was Consolation and the dakti who exchanged a look. The dakti said, “Correct. They don’t understand us.”
It was right. The Fell would never understand the half-Fell’s desire for a permanent home. Heart wasn’t even sure if she believed in it or not, if it was a whim or if it was the Fellborn queen’s real goal. It seemed an incredible thing to consider, and the Arbora had worried about the possibility of Fell influence being directed against courts inside the Reaches, even if the half-Fell didn’t intend it consciously. But Opal Night’s mentors had said that the lack of a progenitor meant the flight couldn’t direct their attention toward Raksura like that, even if they wanted to.
Consolation’s expression turned exasperated. “Then what do I say?”
Malachite said to Consolation, “Tell them you want a consort. From the spoils, after you kill us all.”
Heart twitched and felt her spines flare despite her best intentions. The movement rippled through all the warriors, an instinctive response. Even the idea, even if it was just part of a trick, made rage pulse inside her chest.
Consolation’s brow furrowed, as if she suspected a trap. She glanced at the warriors and said, “It’s just a trick. We’re really getting a big tree.”
Pearl growled under her breath and twitched her spines at Malachite. Malachite told Consolation, “In the western Reaches, there are old abandoned colony trees in my territory, owned by Opal Night. I will give you one, and you will be shown how to live in it. But if you touch any Raksura, Aeriat or Arbora, or kill and eat any sentient being, groundling or swampling or skyling or other, if I find you have lied to me, I will kill every single one of you.”
There was no change in her inflection but Heart felt the air turn just a little colder. She drew a sharp breath. Malachite did that. That was not my imagination.
Consolation eyed her warily. The dakti drew back a little. It poked Consolation and said, “This tree is good.”
“You’re not having this tree,” Pearl growled. “It’s the one in the west or nothing.”
Consolation gave the dakti a gentle push to the head. “We’ll take the tree in the west.”
Malachite stood still for so long, Heart felt the nerves ripple under her spines. It was a predatory stillness, that seemed to affect everyone except Pearl. Consolation watched her with an uneasy air, and the dakti hunched down again. When Pearl finally demanded, “What?” Heart flinched.
Malachite said, “This needs something else.” She turned to regard Pearl. “It’s just her word that she knows where a court is. And these Fell will know by now that she helped destroy a flight in the sel Selatra. We need something more convincing.”
Pearl let out a hiss and lashed her tail a little, but admitted, “You’re right.”
Consolation drew breath, clearly to protest, but the dakti said, “Correct.” Then it added, “You know what they think of us. They will suspect.” Consolation subsided mutinously.
Malachite said, “She needs a captive.”
Heart hissed to herself. She’s right, the Fell will never believe it without some kind of proof. Before she came to her senses, Heart said, “I’ll do it.”
“It can’t be a queen, because the Fell aren’t that stupid,” Heart said. Pearl had picked her up by her frills and hauled her to the edge of the platform, out of earshot of the Fell, to discuss it. Heart didn’t mind, because it was Pearl’s version of discussing, which involved a lot of growling and veiled threats that Pearl had no intention of carrying out, so it was better to do it in private. “It can’t be a warrior, because they don’t want warriors. It has to be an Arbora.” She wasn’t even going to list the reasons it couldn’t be a consort. They were just lucky Moon was with Jade and not here to volunteer.
“Heart—” Pearl put her hands on Heart’s shoulders as if she wanted to shake her. Well, she did want to shake her.
Heart clasped her wrists. “You know this is best. You’re just angry because you can’t think of a good reason not to do it.”
“I can’t risk the chief mentor for this stupid plan,” Pearl hissed.
“It’s not stupid,” Heart said. “It can work. It could save so many lives, if the Fell panic among themselves and fight, or leave. And Malachite is right, if Consolation has a prisoner, the progenitor is more likely to be fooled long enough for the plan to work.” She met Pearl’s gaze. “And I’m the chief mentor and I say I take the risk.” As difficult as it was to do this, Heart knew asking someone else to do it would be worse. She added, “And I’ve done it before, for real. I can handle it.”
Pearl growled in frustration. “If you get yourself killed—”
Heart did what only an Arbora or a fledgling could have done in this situation. She stepped forward and leaned against Pearl’s chest. “Don’t be angry.”
Pearl stopped growling. After a moment, she said, “Stop that.”
To the Far South, On the Cloudwalls
As the wind-ship flew, the cool wind turned colder. Moon stayed up in the bow, resting and keeping watch.
The gorges still wound through the plain but the low hills looked as if they were moving off toward the east. Literally moving, as Moon real
ized they weren’t hills, but enormous creatures with gently curving backs. They had legs like the trunks of mountain-trees, stepping with ponderous deliberation. Not long after, Chime spotted a flight of wingless birds that were flying anyway, slipping through the air like fish in a stream.
It was cold enough for the groundlings that the Golden Islander crew had to get out extra clothing. Shade came up to sit on the deck with Moon, bringing some of the extra garments the Islanders had loaned them. He gave Moon a loose shirt, made of a very soft fabric woven from the fibers of a plant that grew on the shallow seabed near the Golden Isles, dyed a soft blue. Chime wore one similar to it but an undyed yellow. Moon wasn’t that cold yet but the cloth still carried the scent of the Golden Isles: a hint of the spices they used on their food, and the salt and sun scent of the wind that crossed the Yellow Sea. He had already changed into the other clothes he had brought, the shirt and pants of dark-colored silky material woven by the Arbora at Indigo Cloud. He had left them with Jade and the others as too fine to blend in with the groundling crowds at the trading ports and settlements he and Stone might have had to stop at. But the sleeves were long and the pants went all the way down to his ankles, and they provided more protection from the cold. He pulled the borrowed Islander shirt over his head.
Bramble and Delin came out to join them, Bramble squishing herself between Moon and Chime for comfort and Delin sitting nearby, sketching the landscape in one of his books. He had been almost as happy to see his papers, carefully saved with his pack from the sunsailer, as he had been to see Niran and Diar and the rest of the Golden Islander crew.
Rorra and Niran had followed them out with Kalam, and taken seats nearby on the sun-warmed deck. It was clear they were trying to get Kalam to take a rest from anxiously watching his parent. It was hard to tell with Jandera, but Kalam’s eyes looked sunken, a sign of fatigue, and Moon thought he had probably stayed up all night with Callumkal. Watching Rorra and Niran, two people not known for their cheerful demeanor, clearly trying to make Kalam feel better about his parent’s prospects was awkward.
Maybe that was what made Bramble wriggle out from under Moon’s arm to change the subject. She asked, “Do we know why the Fell are attacking the Reaches now? I mean, they’ve always hated us, so why now?”
Chime said, “The Fellborn queen told Malachite that the Fell are blaming us for what happened to the flights that tried to breed with Raksura.”
Bramble snarled at the unfairness of it. “That’s not our fault.”
“It is not your fault. But it is certainly due to the Fell’s lack of understanding of Raksura,” Delin said. He looked down the deck toward the kethel, who had moved up to the mid portion of the wind-ship. It sat back against the cabin wall with its head tilted up and its eyes closed, apparently enjoying the sun. “Do the Fell practice controlled breeding, as the Raksura do?”
That got Rorra’s and Kalam’s startled attention. Rorra said, “The Raksura do what?”
Delin explained, “When Arbora mate in order to breed, it is only with a great deal of consideration of their lineages and what traits they wish the offspring to have, and if they wish to produce Arbora or warriors. They try to anticipate what the court will require anywhere from twenty to forty turns in the future, since maturity rates for Arbora and Aeriat are different. There are no clutches created without careful planning.”
“He’s right,” Niran said with a sigh. “The teachers talked a great deal about their bloodlines and prospective clutches when I was there. In exhaustive detail.”
Moon had never thought of it in those terms, but he knew that was what Raksuran courts did. Indigo Cloud was breeding for survival, Opal Night breeding for war.
Chime said, sourly, “Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you plan, no matter how well you’ve taken everything into account.”
Bramble nodded in resignation. “We ended up with way too many Arbora for a while, and not enough warriors.” She looked up at Moon. “Or consorts.” After a moment, she added hesitantly, keeping her voice low, “I know you weren’t serious when you said—”
“I was serious,” Moon told her. “If you want.” He couldn’t remember if Bramble was one of the Arbora who had said she meant to try for a clutch later this turn. “If you don’t want a clutch—”
“I do.” Bramble bounced happily and squeezed his arm.
Rorra was saying slowly, “I’m still not sure I understand—” Kalam looked baffled and dismayed.
Delin smiled. “Sex that is not for procreation is a different matter, and done only to please the participants.”
Niran added, “That matches what I observed.” Rorra and Kalam turned to stare at him. Niran kept his expression carefully blank.
Moon said, “I don’t understand.” Chime, drawing breath to speak, broke off to stare at him in astonishment. Moon said impatiently, “No, I understand all that, but I don’t understand what it has to do with the Fell.”
“Oh, right.” Chime turned to Delin. “I’m not sure if the Fell plan their breeding like we do. I don’t think anyone knows. We know the progenitors breed with the rulers, but the dakti and kethel aren’t fertile. Or at least that’s what the mentors have always believed.” He frowned. “If the Fell don’t exchange rulers between flights . . . No, they must, or it wouldn’t work. I guess we could ask our kethel.”
Niran grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to be there when you do. Grandfather, what are you getting at?”
Delin said, “So the Fell’s controlled breeding, if they practice it at all, would be a simple affair. Whereas a Raksuran court’s controlled breeding is an elaborate weaving, all the threads considered and carefully placed by both the queens and the Arbora, with new thread judiciously spun from other courts as needed.”
Bramble stirred and said, “That would be a lovely drawing, if you knew more about weaving.”
“I’ve seen weaving done,” Delin protested to her. He made a gesture toward Shade, who leaned on the rail, listening with an expression almost as confused as Moon’s. “Fell and Raksura are two different species who share the same common ancestor. Yet Raksura are experts at breeding for beneficial traits, for the good of the whole court.” He shrugged. “If the Raksura had a way to manipulate the breeding of the Fell by some trickery, to add new bloodlines, they could turn the rulers and the progenitors into something else, more like the Fellborn queen, or like Shade. They could allow the kethel and dakti independent thought and let them develop naturally. Left to their own devices, the kethel and dakti might become more like the Arbora, able to provide and create, with no need to steal and destroy other species. No need to kill and consume each other in times when no other prey is available, or when the progenitor wishes to reduce their number. They would be ruled not by a progenitor with absolute control, but a being more like a Raksuran queen or consort, for whom the welfare of each member of the flight is of primary importance.”
Then Shade hissed in startled fury. Moon snapped around to look, shifting in mid-motion.
Kethel stood beside the cabin, having approached in total silence. It stared at Delin, its gaze fixed but lacking the predatory glint that would have sent Moon for its throat. It said, “How? How would this be done?”
Everyone had tensed. In his peripheral vision, Moon saw Kalam touch the belt of the fire weapon slung across his back, as if making certain it was still there. Rorra put both hands on the deck, ready to shove herself upright. Niran carefully didn’t look toward Diar, who stood in the steering cabin and had just picked up the fire weapon stored there. Shade had shifted and coiled himself around the railing, ready to strike.
Then Moon spotted Stone atop the steering cabin, sitting just at its edge. Moon didn’t think the kethel meant to attack, but it was a relief to see Stone nearby.
Delin was the only one who seemed undisturbed. Watching the kethel thoughtfully, he said, “I cannot say. It is only a theory. And would of course require the cooperation of many Fell.”
Kethel took thi
s in, its large brow furrowing, apparently oblivious to the reaction it had caused. It said, “But not progenitors.” Moon wasn’t sure what was stranger, that it had been so excited by the prospect or that it appeared to be getting depressed as it considered the more practical aspects of it.
Delin lifted his brows. “You think there is no progenitor who would cooperate?”
“No.” It shook its head slowly, reluctantly dismissing the idea. It looked around at all of them finally. Then it said defensively, “We changed. And it was better for kethel and dakti.”
Moon made himself lower his spines. He exchanged a glance with Chime. It had occurred to him that Delin had seen the kethel approaching to listen and had been talking solely to it for the past few moments.
Shade was still braced for attack. Moon shifted to groundling and said, “Shade, come here.”
Shade’s tail lashed once, but he was far better trained in good Raksuran behavior than Moon, and too polite to resist when an older consort called him. Reluctantly, he shifted and climbed down from the rail, still watching the kethel with hostility. Chime scooted over to make room and Shade came to sit behind Moon.
Kethel watched this with curiosity, but said nothing.
Niran turned deliberately to Delin. “What does this have to do with the Fell striking at the Reaches, grandfather?”
Delin said, “Just that I think it isn’t the rumors of the artifact from the foundation builder city which has caused this. It may have been the catalyst, when word reached the other Fell of the flight that had been destroyed in pursuit of it. But the Fell must have been attributing their decline to the Raksura for some time. Fell do not seem to exchange information with each other with much frequency, and ideas must spread between flights very slowly. But if I have noticed the Raksuran potential for breeding the progenitors’ control out of the Fell, surely the progenitors have as well.”
Still watching the kethel warily, Rorra said, “Whatever the cause, it’s the artifact we have to worry about at the moment.”