Root fell back a step and dropped his spines. “I wouldn’t hurt her!”
Flicker hissed in disbelief. “That’s not what it looked like.”
Bramble set her jaw against a well of emotion. She wanted to curl up in a corner and wail. She knew it was her fault, that she shouldn’t have let it go this far. She had failed her court as a sensible Arbora. She choked out, “It’s my fault.”
“It is not,” Flicker said.
Spark lifted her spines as a signal for quiet. Bramble held her breath. In the absence of a queen, the largest female warrior was in charge, and Spark would have been perfectly justified in beating Root senseless for threatening an Arbora. Bramble had lost her control over the situation when she had lost her own temper. All she could do was try to talk Spark out of it.
But Spark didn’t attack. Eyeing Root critically, she said, “Go inside and get some rest.”
Bramble let out her breath in relief. Fortunately for Root, the Opal Night warriors all seemed to be a fairly calm group.
Root, who finally seemed to understand that he had gone too far, took a step toward the doorway. He protested, “I’m on watch.”
“And you’re doing such a brilliant job of it,” Flicker said. He glanced out at the water. “You haven’t even looked at—Wait, what’s that?”
Bramble turned, following Flicker’s gaze. Arbora eyes weren’t as sharp as warriors’ at long distances, but the movement caught her attention. Something was alive on one of the rocky little ice islands. A figure stood there.
Root flung himself at the rail. “It’s one of the others, they’re hurt—”
“No!” Spark caught him by the frills and kept him from leaping off the boat. “The wind was pushing them to the west when they left. That’s someone else.”
“You’re right.” Flicker perched up on the rail, squinting into the wind. “It looks like a groundling.”
Bramble turned and bolted for the steering cabin. “Niran! Diar!”
Bramble waited at the rail, trying to remember not to scrape at the deck with her claws. The wind pulled at her frills as Diar brought the wind-ship to a halt. Not far ahead, Spark and Flicker circled above the island, taking a closer look at the groundling who stood there. Flash was still up on the look-out post atop the tallest mast, on watch in case it was a trick. Spark had ordered Root to keep watch in the stern, and he had actually obeyed. Maybe the almost-fight had brought him back to his senses a little.
Bramble thought the presence of the groundling might be a trick. She had recognized the figure as the wind-ship had drawn closer, and it was either a trick or she was having some kind of hallucination.
Rorra came up beside her with a distance-glass. As she lifted it to study the island, Bramble said, “It’s Vendoin, isn’t it.”
Rorra lowered the glass. Her mouth was a grim line. “Yes. And she’s not armed.” Despite the wind, Bramble caught a trace of her communication scent, and filtered it out. It was a sure sign that Rorra was worried. The only sign, since Rorra kept her expression hard.
The island was just a rock, washed by ice-filled waves. There was no place to hide anything that Bramble could see. Vendoin wore only the light tunic that Hians seemed to prefer; there was no way to conceal even a small fire weapon in it.
Niran stepped up behind them, watching the scene with a frown. “Perhaps the small moss-craft fell, and the survivors washed up here.”
Rorra shook her head. “The current’s wrong for that. And Dranam would have seen the change in direction.”
Spark must have been satisfied it wasn’t a trick, because she dove on the island and snatched up Vendoin. She rose on the wind again, Flicker pacing her.
Rorra and Niran backed away from the rail to allow them room to land. Niran said, “Bramble, go to the main cabin, please. Tell the others we’ll bring her in down there. I don’t want Kalam to be startled.”
Everyone who wasn’t steering the wind-ship or tending to Callumkal had gathered in the main cabin, waiting for the warriors to return with the castaway. Bramble reached the hatch in one bound and hurried down the stairs. She shifted to her groundling form in the doorway.
Delin sat on a stool, bundled up in several layers of Islander robes and shirts. Kalam paced in front of the stove. All the Islanders were wrapped up in extra clothes, though the room felt warm to Bramble. Everyone turned expectantly to her, and she said, “It’s Vendoin.”
Kalam’s jaw set in a hard line. He still had a small fire weapon slung over his shoulder; a wise precaution for groundlings in a strange place. Bramble said, “Kalam, are you going to . . .” She didn’t know how to put it without sounding insulting or condescending.
But he folded his arms and said, grimly, “I’m anxious to hear what she says.”
From his stool, Delin told him, “I have listened to her for days on end, and I can tell you it will be a frustrating experience.”
One of the Islanders snorted a laugh, and there was a relieved stir as the tension broke. Bramble felt the tightness across her shoulders ease a little.
Steps sounded from the stairs, light Raksura steps and the clunk of Rorra’s boots. Then Spark pulled Vendoin into the room. Spark let her go and shook ice drops out of her spines. Vendoin stepped away from Spark, stumbling a little, as Niran and Rorra followed her in.
Vendoin gazed around at them all. She appeared to note Bramble and Delin without reaction. The gray skin between the rock-like armor plates was pale and tinged with blue, which must be a reaction to the cold. The light tunic she wore was torn and stained. She said, “So, you did follow us. I—” Then her gaze met Kalam’s, and the words seemed to catch in her throat.
The room was silent. Rorra watched Vendoin intently, as if reading expressions that Bramble couldn’t interpret. The deck creaked and Bramble felt the wind-ship move. It was fighting the wind to continue on its course.
As if the faint sound and movement had broken a spell, Kalam said, “My father still lives, despite what you did to him.”
Vendoin drew breath. “It was not my intention—”
“I don’t care,” Kalam interrupted. There was a faint quiver in his voice. “Why were you on that island? Where are the other Hians?”
Vendoin looked at Niran and Rorra, her attention passing over Bramble. As usual. Bramble managed not to roll her eyes and hiss.
Niran said, “Obviously the Raksura don’t abandon their own, and neither do we. We couldn’t have followed you here without their help.” He made a gesture to the other Islanders. “I am Niran, and these others are my family, and Delin-Evran-lindel is our grandfather.”
Vendoin’s gaze went to Delin. “You will not believe me, but I was taken from my moss-craft.”
“We believe you,” Rorra said, still watching her critically. Her self-control was almost queen-like, and Bramble found herself grateful for it. Rorra added, “We found it, and what was left of the crew. You seem to be making a habit of abandoning ships in distress.”
“I wasn’t the one who killed them,” Vendoin said, still expressionless.
Bramble felt a growl build in her chest. Deliberately, in the Hian-inflected Kedaic, she said, “I told them it was hardly a surprise. You Hians aren’t like the other Kish. You’re uncivilized.” She had meant to sound ironic, but found her voice rough with rage.
Vendoin turned to stare at her. “How long have you known our language?”
“Bramble is not here to answer your questions,” Rorra said. “Did your companions drop you on the island because of your charm, or did they just not need you anymore?”
Vendoin looked around again, as if taking stock of them all. Fragments of ice slid down her legs to collect on the woven grass mat on the deck. Rorra said, “It’s up to you whether you tell us or not. We have a horticultural tracking your moss and the others have already caught up with the pinnace.”
Vendoin made a slight movement, maybe so slight the groundlings wouldn’t see it. To Bramble’s eyes, it looked like a movement of re
lief. Vendoin said, “I refused to cooperate with Lavinat. I assume Bramble has told you about her.”
Rorra said, “Yes, go on.”
“When I took the weapon-artifact from—from you, aboard the sunsailer, I did not realize what its abilities were. How flawed it was.”
Delin said, dryly, “Even the fragmentary writings the foundation builders left said that the artifact was flawed beyond their ability to repair. They left it for the forerunners, hoping they could render it useful. The fact that it was still inside the city is proof enough that the forerunners never came for it. We are not fools, and kindly do not treat us as children. You knew it was flawed and you didn’t care.”
“I didn’t know that it would kill Jandera.” Vendoin’s voice was hard, but Bramble thought she detected a faint tremor underneath. Then Vendoin admitted, “I knew it was a possibility.”
Rorra glanced at Kalam, her expression sour. He looked incredulous. He said, “A ‘possibility.’ How many other species, how many other species in Kish, does it kill?”
“It kills Hians,” Bramble said. She knew she was right. “It killed Aldoan, it killed the Hian scholar and her family. That’s what made you afraid.”
Vendoin didn’t look at her, but the muscles of her neck tightened. “Lavinat insisted that it was the operation of the weapon that caused Aldoan to die. That it was not meant to be held by a living being, that it was the close presence of the Fell that had caused it to operate. She said the Fell killed the scholar. Bemadin and I were not convinced. But many of Lavinat’s crew were aboard and we found it politic to pretend to accept that explanation, at least until we had more information. We never dreamed—” She stopped, cutting off the words.
“You never dreamed she would betray you,” Kalam finished. “If my father was conscious, I’m sure he would say the same about you.”
After a moment, as if Kalam hadn’t spoken, Vendoin continued, “We believed that the weapon would eliminate the Fell in the east. If it worked, we could leave Hia Iserae and return to Hia Majora. We could go home. That was our only goal. My only goal.” She looked away, her gaze on the wall. “I and others had worked for a long time for this, even before I joined Callumkal in Kedmar, ever since the message stones that described the weapon were uncovered in the foundation builder ruins buried beneath Hia Iserae. Lavinat had also worked on it. When she betrayed us she admitted that she had concealed things from the rest of us, that there had been warnings that the artifact could cause terrible damage.”
Delin’s expression was disbelieving. “And yet she still intends to use it? Has she lost her senses?”
Vendoin’s mouth curled. “She believes it is worth it, to destroy the Fell. She believes that some of our people still in Hia Iserae, in our cities sheltered by layers of rock, will survive. That it is worth the sacrifice of those who live in other parts of Kish and the east, or are caught out without shelter.”
Bramble met Kalam’s gaze, and he shook his head incredulously. The Islanders murmured in shock. Niran’s expression was appalled.
Hard and practical, Rorra asked, “How did you know where to take the artifact?”
“Lavinat had a map, found in one of the message stones that she concealed from us.”
“The map led you to the ruin on the coast,” Niran said.
“Lavinat attempted to use the weapon, and it caused the . . . transition here.” Vendoin looked around again. “The existence of this place was a surprise.”
Rorra grimaced. “How does this Lavinat know where to go now?”
“She said the artifact was telling her where to go.”
A chill went up Bramble’s back. Niran said, “Is she right? Or is it delusion?”
Vendoin said, “I don’t know. When I said I wouldn’t help her, she abandoned me on the rocks.”
Rorra eyed Vendoin. “If you can’t help us anymore, what should we do with you?”
Bramble thought it was another prod to make Vendoin talk more. But Kalam answered immediately, “Put her back on the island.”
Vendoin said, “No. Lavinat let me look at the writings she brought with her, the ones she couldn’t interpret. I was able to understand some of it, but I withheld the information from her.” Her gaze met Rorra’s. “I can tell you how to stop the artifact.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
They flew low, not far above the floating ice, from island to island as the gray shapes grew on the horizon. The sea was relatively calm, though Moon felt windblown ice chips catch in his frills.
When they reached a narrow rocky ridge just above the waves, Jade signaled a halt. Moon crouched with the others on the frozen rock, and got a good look at their goal.
They had found the metal ship Merit and the others had seen in their visions, but it wasn’t out here alone. It sat at what had to be the ruin of a forerunner docking structure.
It loomed up out of the sea, the flower-like pods for docking flying boats arranged around a central stalk, like the fluted curving bell of a flower. It was a mountainous structure that dwarfed even the great metal water ship moored at it.
Huge half-moon shaped sails stood on narrow pillars above a wide hull as big as a small city. The stern was high and square and the bow came to a curving point. Above the hull were dozens of towers like big spheres piled atop each other, with darker shapes in their discolored metal that might be doors or windows. Bridges connected the towers with other scaffold-like structures with a less obvious purpose. There was no sign of life or activity, and from the metal debris embedded in the chunks of ice surrounding it, bits had been falling off for some time.
Merit and Briar had landed further down the ridge. Moon saw Merit look toward Jade and signal assent with his spines. This was the place from the vision. It better be the right place, Moon thought. There surely couldn’t be more giant ships on this frozen sea. He hoped.
Chime whispered, “It’s so big. Maybe the mentors were right the first time, and it’s a city. Was a city.”
“Maybe.” Moon didn’t think it mattered what it was, as long as it was the place the Hians were looking for.
Shade crawled up on Moon’s other side to say, “The ship doesn’t look forerunner.”
Chime leaned across Moon to tell him, “I don’t think it is.”
“How can you tell?” Moon asked.
Frowning at the ship, Chime said, “The shapes and the angles and curves aren’t right. Especially when you compare the ship to the docks, or whatever that flower thing is. The curves and shapes on it definitely look like the forerunner ruins we’ve seen.”
Moon asked Shade, “Do you understand that?”
Shade twitched his spines in assent. “Sure. The forerunners built the flower docks, but somebody else built that ship.”
Moon gave up. Chime still had an Arbora’s eye for this sort of thing, and Shade was the only Aeriat who was able to draw, at least as far as Moon had seen. Shade hadn’t gotten the ability from his progenitor mother, so maybe it was a forerunner thing, like the way he had been able to open the doors in the forerunner city.
Balm scrambled up the rocks behind them and said, “Did you see it?”
Moon stared at her. Baffled, Chime pointed at the giant ship. “Uh, yes?”
Balm’s spines flicked in exasperation. “The little flying boat! It’s caught on top of that big flower dock, towards the middle.”
Moon had been too struck by the water ship to see it. Squinting against the wind, he spotted the flying boat tied off to the top of a flower-shaped docking pod near the lip of the central stalk.
The little boat was a gray-green oblong of moss, with a small deck in front, one hatch, and several windows in the upper portion. About twenty paces long or less, it didn’t look able to hold many Hians. Whoever was aboard had presumably used the Kishan flying packs to get down from it to the dock or the ship. The important point was that there was no large fire weapon mounted on it.
Balm continued, “Jade is going to check it out. She said for the rest of us to
stay here.” At Moon’s expression, she grimaced, “I know.”
Moon twisted around to look for Jade. She crouched atop a higher boulder at the edge of the ridge, shaking the ice out of her spines. She leapt upward, caught the wind, and flapped up toward the flying boat.
Moon hissed in pure nervous fear. Chime said, softly, “They might not even realize we’re here, so they probably didn’t leave anybody behind in the boat.”
At least Stone was up there somewhere in the clouds on watch. Jade navigated the drafts and rode one above the central stalk, then dropped down atop the flying boat. She crouched there for a tense moment. Shade said, “I think Chime’s right, no one’s inside.”
Jade slipped down to the deck, then disappeared into the hatch. After what felt like one of the longest stretches of time in Moon’s life, she reappeared and signaled for them to follow.
Balm made a hiss of relief and turned to the warriors. “Let’s go.”
Shade hopped down to pick up Lithe, and Moon leapt into the air. He immediately slipped sideways and had to play his wings on the wind to rise toward the top of the dock structure.
The stalk loomed like a mountain, discolored and streaked by uncounted turns of weather and sun. It must be standing on the floor of the sea; the base was mired in an island of ice, washed by the freezing waves. Moon swept past a stained metal sail of the deserted ship and it vibrated with the wind, a low-pitched sound that resonated in his bones.
Moon banked and dropped to light on top of the Kishan flying boat. He furled his wings as Shade and the warriors landed around him. Jade perched on the railing, looking down at the curving edge of the docking stalk about fifty paces below. Moon hopped down to her side. A flat curved walkway ran around the fluted edge, its icy coating broken from the impact of several sets of feet. “They didn’t care that they left a trail,” he said, keeping his voice low. Maybe Vendoin and Lavinat had thought the magic had only worked on the Kishan flying boat. “They don’t know we’re here.”
“We can hope,” Jade muttered. She straightened and waved up at the clouds. Stone’s dark shape appeared immediately and dropped toward them. Kethel followed at a respectful distance. Moon leaned out to try to see down the shaft as Chime came to stand near the rail. Like the flower the dock was meant to resemble, the interior twisted into a spiral, increasingly narrow and dark. There were ledges built into the inside, circling down, but it was an impossible entrance for groundlings. If the Hians hadn’t had their flying packs, there was no way they could have taken this route. And they had gone this way; fresh scrapes scarred the ice on the ledges all the way down.