Shade didn’t need to ask who he meant. “No.” Still sitting on the fur, he had twisted around to watch Moon circle the room. “Is it true you were alone all this time?”
“Yes.” Moon stepped away from the drawings. “What are you going to do?”
“What? Oh, since no queen will take me, and I can’t leave the court?” Shade shrugged, long fingers fiddling with the book’s leather cover again. “I don’t want to leave; everyone I know is here.”
“You don’t want a queen?”
Shade’s young face was serious. “Even if there was one who wanted me, I shouldn’t breed.” It sounded as if he had given it a good deal of thought. “The clutch might be all right, like me and the others, but they might not.”
It was...not an unrealistic view of the situation. At least no one had lied to Shade about who and what he was, and what he was likely to expect. High in the wall there was an opening to the central well, and Moon stopped beneath it, listening. It must be in a fold of the trunk that faced away from the reservoir, so the rush of falling water was more distant, and the clicks and calls of the insects sleeping in the vines were audible. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from this conversation. Maybe nothing.
Then Shade said suddenly, “Feather said you look just like our father.”
Moon went still. For an instant he felt his connection to this court, to Malachite, and it tugged on him like a leash.
He turned to face Shade, who was lost in thought, turning the pages of the book. Shade said, “I never saw him, because he died, but...The other consorts who live here with me, they’re descended from Malachite’s sister queen who died, and they look a little like him too. So do our cross-clutchmates, in Onyx’s bloodline. But they’re soft, and you’ve got hard edges. It makes you look older and Feather said you look just like him. I think that’s why Malachite was afraid to see you.” Shade frowned thoughtfully, apparently oblivious to the effect this was having on Moon. “I guess that must have hurt you, but I don’t think she realized what it was going to be like, seeing the image of him again. Feather said Malachite’s been so filled with rage that she’s barely felt anything else in forty turns. You coming back means she has to let some of that go. That’s hard for her.”
Moon turned away. He didn’t want to believe it; he didn’t want to give Malachite that much credit. But Dart had said the queen started to enter the room, saw Moon, and left.
He heard a rustle as Shade moved uneasily, maybe finally sensing that this was a difficult subject. Shade said, “What was it like, traveling out in the world?”
Root had asked Moon that once, what felt like a lifetime ago. Chime had countered the question with “what is the wind like?” but Moon wanted to give Shade a better answer. But summing up the totality of the wind would have been easier. He said, “It was hard, but...it wasn’t all bad. I saw a lot of different places, and people.”
“But there weren’t any other Raksura?”
“I didn’t know where to look for them.” He turned back, and Shade’s baffled expression almost made him smile. “The Three Worlds is a big place.”
Shade seemed as if he was having trouble imagining it. “Did you live with a groundling court?”
“Sometimes. But when they realized what I was, I always had to leave.” Shade’s confusion deepened, and Moon explained gently, “In the east, where I was living, the groundlings are afraid of Raksura. They think we’re Fell.”
“But we—you don’t look like a Fell!”
“To them we all do.”
Shade’s brow furrowed as he turned that over. “I see. But...you must have been lonely.”
It was a surprise that Shade saw that so readily. He had always been surrounded by his court, protected by a powerful reigning queen who had fought her way through a Fell flight and killed a progenitor to retrieve the last of her dead consort’s offspring. But maybe he was aware of what could have happened to him.
Still considering it, Shade said, “The only place I’d like to see outside the court is Aventera. The warriors described it to me, and it sounds very strange. But I’m not sure I want to meet groundlings, if they’re going to be afraid of me.”
“Aventera.” Moon hadn’t heard the name before, but he could make a guess. “Is that the groundling city that Celadon went to?”
“Yes.” Shade yawned, and got to his feet, the book tucked under his arm. “I’d better go back now.” He hesitated, shy and uncertain and very like an ordinary young Raksura. “Can we talk again?”
Moon hesitated, but he was surprised to realize what his answer was. “Yes.”
Shade nodded and disappeared down the passage.
Moon waited until Shade’s steps had faded, then he went down to his own bower. Stone hadn’t moved, and Moon lay down beside him. The fur still held the shape of his body, though he had been gone long enough for it to lose the warmth. Stone didn’t comment, and after a moment, Moon said, “Did you hear all that?”
“Yes.” He was silent for so long, Moon thought that was all he was going to say. Then Stone added, “Not sure I would have done it, in their place. It would have just made it that much worse, if they’d turned wrong when they got older.”
It was a strange thing that Opal Night had done, that Malachite had done, raising these changeling children instead of killing them. Moon wondered how many courts would have done it. He thought most Raksura would have considered it mercy to kill them. Moon might have thought it himself, if he hadn’t met Lithe and Shade.
Hard as it would have been to kill something that must have looked very like a baby Raksura, it would have been much, much worse to watch it turn from a child into a monster. But Opal Night had taken the risk. Maybe Malachite saw it as another path to victory over the Fell. Raising the crossbreeds as Raksura, to show that Raksuran blood was stronger. “So you think they were right?”
Stone rolled over, clearly putting an end to the conversation. “I think they were lucky.”
Moon woke at dawn, when Stone was stirring. Russet and two other Arbora must have been listening for them to move, because they brought a kettle and pot for tea immediately. Russet lingered as if she wanted to say something, but left when Stone glared narrowly at her.
Moon picked up the pressed cake of tea and the wooden tool used to scrape it off into the pot. “What was that about?”
“I don’t like interfering Arbora.” Stone took the cake and the scraper away, and moved the pot out of Moon’s reach. He was particular about tea.
“The Arbora at Indigo Cloud aren’t interfering?” Because that hadn’t been Moon’s experience.
Stone sniffed at the tea dubiously, then set it aside and got his own out of his pack. “It’s different when they’re related to you.”
Moon waited until Stone had the first cup down before he said, “I want to stay. I want to find out what Opal Night is going to do about the Fell and the groundling city.”
Stone hissed in pure irritation and deliberately set the cup down. It was a delicate blue ceramic, with bands of silver gray and dark green, in a complex pattern that would probably make the Arbora at Indigo Cloud sick with envy. “Are you going to say that to Jade when she gets here?”
Until last night, Jade’s arrival had felt like something from a Hassi creation myth: much longed for but expected to be apocryphal. Even knowing that she would be here soon, Moon was still having trouble thinking logically about it. He didn’t answer, and Stone continued, “And if I can’t get you out of here, do you think your crazy mother who had you dragged all the way across the Reaches is just going to hand you over when Jade asks?”
When Stone said “mother,” Moon still thought first of Sorrow and not Malachite, and it took him a moment to answer. “She doesn’t have any reason to keep me here.”
A voice from behind him said, “You don’t want to know us at all, do you?”
Moon twitched around. Celadon stood in the doorway. Distracted, he hadn’t heard her arrival, but he felt fairly certain it ha
dn’t gone unnoticed by Stone. Irritated at being caught unawares, at her for existing, at Stone, he told her, “No, I don’t. Why should I?”
Celadon stepped forward, spines flicking in agitation. “We’re your bloodline. We’re responsible for you—”
Moon shoved to his feet. “You left me to die in a forest. That’s what you’re responsible for.”
“That wasn’t me, I didn’t leave you! I was a fledgling myself, whether you remember or not.” Celadon’s spines snapped up, trembling with fury. “I lost you, I lost our clutchmates, the others in the nurseries, I lost our father, I lost Twist and Yarrow, the teachers who took care of us, almost everyone I knew.” She turned away, and her tail lashed angrily. “You are the only thing I’ve ever gotten back from that time.”
“It’s too late!” Moon snarled at her. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but the mix of anger and pain wouldn’t let him admit it. “I can’t be him again, I’m something else.”
“I don’t expect you to!” She rounded on him, baring her fangs. They glared at each other, then Celadon took a deep breath, forcing her spines down, deliberately calming herself. “I know you’re different now.” Reluctantly, she added, “Do you hate us so much?”
“I don’t hate you,” Moon said, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “I just don’t know why you want me here.”
She hissed, exasperated. “Because you’re part of us.”
“It’s too late for that, too.”
She watched him, her spines going completely flat as the last of the anger left her expression. Finally, she said, “Malachite wants to see you.” She tilted her head toward Stone. “And the line-grandfather.”
Stone set his teacup down. “Good.”
Celadon led them to the queens’ hall, where they had argued last night. Moon was assuming this was the queens’ hall for Malachite’s bloodline, and that Onyx and her daughters had a separate set as far away as possible.
In the day, shafts of light fell down from the well high overhead to light the carvings winding up the wall. Malachite waited for them, sitting to one side of the bowl hearth with several Arbora, including Lithe and Russet, behind her. Also present was Malachite’s warrior Rise, a few other older female warriors and, surprisingly, Shade. Shade was the only one who smiled when Moon walked in.
Moon knew enough by now to recognize the formal setup: the way the Arbora and warriors were dressed in the silky flowing fabrics of their good clothes, the tea set beside the hearth that no one would probably use, the arrangement of the seating mats and cushions. He just had no idea what it meant in context with his situation. You could have asked Celadon, he told himself, if you hadn’t been busy yelling at her.
Celadon moved past to sit near Malachite, and Moon and Stone took seats opposite the queens. Apparently, there was no older male consort who belonged to Malachite. Which meant Malachite hadn’t taken another after Moon’s father had been killed.
Malachite broke the silence first, saying to Stone, “Do you still plan to tell other courts about our crossbreed children?”
Shade twitched, startled, and looked anxiously from Malachite to Stone.
Unperturbed, Stone said, “Was I supposed to be reconsidering it?”
Malachite’s voice stayed level. “Answer me.”
Stone countered, “Are you still planning to steal Indigo Cloud’s consort?”
“You and I both know you had no right to take him.”
We could be here all day, Moon thought. If Malachite was one tenth as stubborn as Stone, this could go on for the rest of the turn. He said, “Isn’t it my fault, for agreeing to be taken?”
Everyone stared at him, as if they had all expected him to just sit silently. Stone hissed, “Shut up.”
“No, you shut up.” The swipe Stone took at his head was half-hearted and Moon ducked it easily. He kept his gaze on Malachite. “Isn’t it my fault?”
Malachite didn’t answer, though her tail made a slow lash. Celadon’s spines rippled in annoyance and she said, “You didn’t know any better. You—”
Malachite said, “Quiet.”
Celadon subsided reluctantly. Moon said, “I didn’t know any better. And all Indigo Cloud knew was what I told them. So if you don’t hold me responsible, then you can’t hold them responsible. They had every right to take me.”
There was a moment’s silence. Malachite’s tail did that slow lash again, that Moon couldn’t interpret. It occurred to him at that point that they could very well blame him for accepting Jade without his birthcourt’s permission. He should have bothered to find out what the punishment was for that, but at worst it would be exile from Opal Night, which wouldn’t leave him any worse off than he had been before. Though it would be somewhat ironic.
Then one of the older Arbora said, admiringly, “He argues like a mentor.”
Stone said, “He argues, period. Are you sure you want him?”
“Yes,” Malachite said, simply.
“Why?” Moon made his voice hard. He knew he was susceptible to her; he didn’t want to lose his resolve. “Do you have a court you want to sell me off to? You think another queen would ever want me, a feral solitary who’s already taken?”
Malachite stood, stalked forward three deliberate steps until she stood over him. Moon just looked up at her, refusing to let himself flinch away. His skin itched with the urge to shift. In a voice rough with fury, she said, “I know nothing of this queen or this court. Why did she take you if she thought you were a solitary?”
Stone half uncoiled from the floor, not quite pushing in front of Moon but making it clear he was there. “She took him because she likes him. I thought she would; that’s why I brought him to her.”
Moon said, “You can ask her when she gets here.”
Malachite stared down at him, her eyes as hard and opaque as dark glass. Then she stepped back. “I will.”
There were relieved hisses from the other end of the room.
As she moved away, Stone eased back down into a sitting position and gave Moon a look that was irritation mixed with relief.
Moon took a deep breath without making it obvious, feeling the skin of his back ripple, settling the spines he wasn’t wearing at the moment. He seemed to have won the point, or at least part of it. Time to push a little further. “Are you going to warn the groundlings about the Fell?”
Malachite’s spines shivered, but she didn’t answer immediately. She settled herself back into her place, and tilted her head to Celadon. Celadon said to Moon, “I’ve tried. I’ve visited them twice, but they’ve never heard of Fell before, not even as stories.”
They were very far west, but Moon found that strange. Even the peoples of the inland freshwater sea had heard of the Fell. Or at least Ardan had heard of them. But he had been a scholar as well as a collector; maybe the Fell weren’t common knowledge in this part of the west. He said, “If they don’t know anything about the Fell, it makes them even more vulnerable.”
There was a restrained stir from the Arbora, whether of agreement or censure, Moon couldn’t tell. Celadon said, “I can try again. But if they won’t listen to me, there isn’t much I can do.”
“Let me try.” Moon had no idea if they would let him leave the colony, but the chance of having something positive to do was too good to resist. “I’ve seen groundling cities destroyed by the Fell. I can tell them how it will happen, what the Fell will do to them, what to watch out for.”
The silence stretched. The Arbora and warriors stared at Moon again, shocked and a little incredulous. He realized they hadn’t heard this part of the story before. Maybe they wouldn’t believe him.
Stone said, reluctantly, “He’s right. He’s seen a lot of Fell. To put it mildly.”
Unexpectedly, Celadon turned to Malachite. “I would agree to take him with me to the city to try again. Even though the groundlings are stubborn, it’s cruel not to try to convince them of the danger. And if the Fell take the city, it will only give them a secure place to attac
k us and the rest of the Reaches.” She added, “But if we do this, we should go today. Before the Fell get any closer.”
Russet leaned forward, her expression worried. “With the Fell nearby, isn’t it too dangerous to let a consort leave the colony?”
Moon didn’t laugh, didn’t make a comment about all his turns outside a colony. He thought Stone’s sardonic expression said it all. Celadon flicked her spines uncomfortably, as if all too aware of the irony, and said, “I think we all realize that Moon is different.”
Malachite didn’t respond to Russet. She regarded Stone thoughtfully. “I assume the line-grandfather would accompany you.”
Stone said, “I would.”
“How do I know he won’t simply take you back to Indigo Cloud?”
“He knows I wouldn’t go.” Moon turned to look Stone in the eye. “And if he forced me to go, he knows I’d just come back.”
Stone’s expression promised another slap to the head in Moon’s near future. He said, “‘He’ knows the queens involved would rather fight this out than be reasonable.”
Malachite showed the tips of her fangs. “You mean give in to your demands.”
“Exactly.” Stone wasn’t intimidated. “The other courts are going to find out about your crossbreeds eventually.” Stone held her gaze for a long moment. “You’ll need an ally. Indigo Cloud could be one.”
Even through Malachite’s opaque expression, Moon could tell she wasn’t moved by that possibility.
Then Shade eased up to kneel beside her. “Can I go to the groundling city too? If my half-clutch-brother and the line-grandfather are going—”
Moon wasn’t sure what surprised him more, that Shade had dared to ask or Malachite’s reaction. Malachite ruffled Shade’s hair with an air of exasperated affection. “No, you may not go. Not until you are as old and wise as your half-clutch-brother.”
Moon stared, taken aback. He wanted to see the description as ridicule, but no one else was reacting to it that way.
Malachite’s gaze crossed his but she didn’t give any sign that she had noticed his reaction. Celadon pushed to her feet and said, “I’ll gather my warriors, if the consorts are ready to leave.”