“Really?” Ennia frowned in consternation, clearly making some mental adjustment. “I had heard that but—”
The door at the back of the room opened and a groundling man swept through, three others trailing in his wake like suckerfish after a predator. He was shorter than Ennia, but a shock of short gray hair standing nearly straight up made him look taller. He wore a dark green brocaded coat trimmed with dyed leather and fur. The other groundlings in the room popped to their feet, and even Ennia stood to greet him, going over to take his hands. “Father, you see we have guests. I’m so glad you could spare the time to greet them.”
“Our air sentries reported their arrival,” the man replied. “Indeed, this time they were quite hard to miss.”
Moon bit his lip. He usually tried not to judge hastily based on behavior, since all tribes whether groundling, sealing, or skyling were different, but he could tell he was going to have a hard time liking these people. He still didn’t think they should be eaten by Fell, though.
Celadon took the opportunity to say quietly in Raksuran, “He is Havram, their leader. They call him an ‘arbiter’ in the trade language but I suspect that’s a mistranslation.”
Havram took Ennia’s arm, leading her back to her chair as if she might not know the way. She said, “Look, Father, Celadon has brought her brother Moon to see us. And—” She looked for Stone, who ambled across the room to drop down into one of the chairs, much to the nervous consternation of the groundlings he brushed past. “—Stone, who is an important official at another court.”
“Well, and what do you think of our city?” Havram said. He sat beside Ennia, evidently a sign for the rest of the groundlings to sit. Not giving Moon a chance to answer, he added, “You must be very impressed with our flying craft.”
Stone snorted quietly. Moon said, “They seem a little impractical, compared to others.”
It was Havram’s turn to lift his gray brows in mild astonishment. “Others?” He gave the impression of being too polite to show outright skepticism.
Ennia interposed, “Moon has traveled widely.” From her tone, he couldn’t tell if she believed him or not.
Havram said, “I see.” Small talk evidently dispensed with, he leaned back, watching them with a sharp gaze. “The people who saw your group fly in noted that there was something else with you. Some sort of large creature?”
Moon looked at Celadon, who twitched a spine in irritation. She said, “As some members of our species grow older, they grow larger.” She inclined her head toward Stone. “Stone is very old.”
Ennia blinked, surprised, but Havram’s gaze merely sharpened. He said, “Really? That seems a very odd thing to happen.”
“We are very odd people.” Celadon managed to smile without showing her fangs. “He can demonstrate if you wish.”
The other groundlings were hard put to control their reactions.
Havram apparently decided she wasn’t lying. He made a dismissive gesture. “A demonstration isn’t necessary.” He regarded Stone with a bland smile. “I see you will be a most intriguing guest.”
Stone leaned back in his chair, elbow propped on the bronze arm, eyeing Havram as if deciding whether he was too bony to eat or not. He said, “I’m more interested in your other guest.”
From the way the groundlings all stared at Stone, they must have assumed he didn’t speak or understand Kedaic. Ennia recovered first, exchanged a puzzled look with Havram, and said, “What other guest?”
“The Fell ruler,” Stone clarified. “He eaten anybody yet?”
Chapter Ten
Moon thought, sourly, Well, that could explain a lot. Why the Aventerans had been so reluctant to listen to Celadon’s warnings, for example. He felt a wave of tension pass through the warriors behind him, and Celadon cocked her head at Havram, her spines trembling with the effort not to rise. They were too late, and had been too late before Moon had even asked to come to the city; the Fell were already here.
Havram seemed to think Stone’s question was just an inappropriate joke. “Our guests are not in the habit of eating anyone. As far as we know.”
One corner of Stone’s mouth twitched in a brief smile, acknowledging the veiled insult. “You don’t know what he is, then.”
Ennia sat forward, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Stone said, “There’s a Fell ruler in your city, not far away from this room.”
Havram laughed, though he didn’t sound very amused. “Is this another attempt to convince us such creatures exist?”
Celadon’s spines twitched before she firmly pressed them down again. Havram didn’t understand the dangerous ground he was treading. Raksuran queens didn’t like to be called liars. Her voice hard, she said, “The last time we spoke, you were unwilling to acknowledge the danger, but you were not so contemptuous of my attempt to warn you. What has changed?”
Ennia said uncertainly, “My father meant no offense.”
Celadon didn’t bother to answer that. She asked Havram, “We exist; why do you doubt the Fell?”
Havram shook his head and smiled faintly. He’s too certain, too unwilling to listen, Moon thought. Either Havram was a stubborn bastard, or... The ruler’s already been planting suggestions. Confused, Ennia said, “But why do you think one of these creatures is nearby?”
“I can smell it,” Stone said, “in the draft around the edge of this room.” He nodded toward a small round opening at the top of the far wall. “That’s not outside air.”
Havram didn’t quite sneer. “Your senses are that acute?”
But Ennia said, “We do have a guest, a stranger who has never been here before. He came in with a cargo vessel from the deep west, to speak of trade contacts between Aventera and his city. But he was well known to the traders.”
Moon exchanged a look with Stone. Fell rulers had the ability to influence the minds of groundlings. They could do it to Raksura as well, though fortunately it seemed to take far more effort. Before the attack on the old colony, the Fell had done it to Balm, using her as a source of information about the court, though she had no memory of it and no idea what had happened. It had been a more exact way of learning the court’s plans than the divinatory visions of their crossbreed mentors. Moon asked Ennia, “How many traders were on the vessel?”
The skin of Ennia’s gray-tinged brow was furrowed with doubt. “Only five. There had been more, but they encountered disaster along the way, they said, and lost several members of their party to accident.”
Celadon hissed low in her throat. Moon said, “Fell rulers can make groundlings believe things that aren’t true, but they can’t do it to too many at once. It had to get rid of most of the group, so it could keep the others under control.”
Ennia smiled in relief. “But he isn’t with them anymore. If he had some power over them, they would have warned us when he left their presence—”
Moon held her gaze and willed her to listen. “They believe what he’s told them. They don’t remember that he killed their friends and forced them to take him on their ship. It should wear off, with time, but I bet he hasn’t been here very long.”
Ennia’s troubled expression deepened, and the other groundlings glanced uneasily at each other, but Havram was still skeptical. He said, “That is a very convenient power to have.”
Stone said, “You’ve spoken to him, spent time with him, but Ennia hasn’t.”
Havram turned to him sharply, suspicious. “Yes. How did you know?”
Celadon grimaced in realization. Moon looked at Stone, who rolled his eyes. Yes, we have to stop this. Right now. Before the ruler managed to increase his hold on Havram, and Havram handed the city over to the rest of the flight. Moon said, “Show us where he is, and we’ll explain.”
Celadon added, “If he is just a groundling trader, he has nothing to fear from us.”
Ennia started to speak, hesitated, and glanced sharply at Havram. Havram was obviously annoyed, and didn’t bother to conceal it. He said, “Find
him yourself, if you can.”
Moon tightened his jaw, suppressing a frustrated hiss. Havram’s apparently natural arrogance combined readily with the Fell ruler’s influence; when Stone proved him wrong, he was just going to be that much more difficult to reason with.
Stone’s expression didn’t change. He got to his feet and started for the door.
Havram and Ennia followed them out of the chamber, and a few members of their entourages trailed along after them. Celadon told the warriors to stay behind, much to their dismay. Ennia ordered some of her groundlings to stay behind with them, also much to their dismay.
Stone stopped on the gallery. Moon had a bad feeling; the wind was entering the big market chamber below, right off the flying boat landing platform. If the Fell scent came from outside the city, carried by the wind...
But Stone turned toward an archway that led further into the mountain.
It opened into a big corridor and then a stairwell cut out of the rock, leading up. It wasn’t as cave-like as Moon had expected. The mottled gray walls were carved to look like plastered panels, and more bronze lamps hung from the curved ceiling, with the little glass balls glowing with light.
Behind him, Havram said, “So far this could be a lucky guess.”
Stone didn’t pause. “If that ruler thinks you’re an easy target, the others will come to this city and kill and eat everyone they can catch. That’s how Fell survive.”
Ennia said, “We are not an easy target,” but her expression was troubled. Havram squeezed her hand in reassurance.
In Raksuran, Celadon said to Stone, “Sending them into a panic won’t help. Just find the damn Fell.”
Stone stopped to regard her directly, forcing the rest of the party to abruptly halt. “I’m not part of your court, and even if I were, you wouldn’t have the authority over me, little daughter queen.”
Celadon bared her teeth at him. Moon hissed, “Stop it.”
Amazingly, it worked. Celadon stepped back, and Stone gave her one last hard glare, then continued.
The stairs opened into the middle of another wide corridor that angled back into the depths of the mountain. It was two levels high, with galleries running along the upper section. Doorways lined the galleries, and the lower level held archways opening into more passages. It looked like the connecting center of a number of living areas.
Groundlings walked along the upper and lower levels, or stood in groups and talked. Most were the tall, elongated Aventerans, but a few were shorter and wider, though with the same coloring, probably a related race from somewhere further west.
There were small fountains in the wall, designed so someone could hold a container under the spigot, meant to supply the inhabitants of these rooms with drinking water. An older woman sat on a blanket on the floor, with dozens of cups, a dipper, and a big copper pot, apparently selling the smoky-scented liquid inside. As Moon and the others appeared, everyone nearby stopped talking and stared.
Stone turned right without hesitation, moving purposefully down the corridor. Havram, about to make a comment, frowned instead. Ennia explained, “These corridors are where traders, air vessel crews, and visitors are quartered.”
Watching Stone, Celadon asked, “Does this trader know about us?”
That was a good question. Moon glanced at Ennia to gauge her tone as she answered, “I believe my father told him we had spoken to people calling themselves Raksura.”
“And what did it say?” Celadon sounded as if she had a suspicion already.
“It—He spoke to my father and some other traders.” Ennia made a throwaway gesture. “I’m not really certain...” Which probably meant the ruler had filled Havram’s head with suspicion about Celadon’s motives and possibly stories of Raksuran betrayals and perfidy.
Stone reached a set of wrought metal stairs leading to the second level gallery and started up. Moon didn’t need to look at Havram to know they were on the right track. He felt his shoulders tense and his back teeth itch as he scented the Fell taint, carried on the cool damp draft from above. It came from one of the doors along the gallery.
“Stone...” Moon lengthened his steps and started up the stairs after Stone, Celadon behind him. He’s too big. He can’t shift in here. Even with the corridor’s width and tall ceiling, the supporting rock-carved columns were too close together. “Wait, don’t—”
Don’t open the door, he meant to say, but didn’t get the chance. Just as Stone reached the top step, the nearest door burst open and a Fell ruler shot out.
In the east, Moon’s shifted form had been mistaken for a Fell ruler more times than he could count. This creature was about the same size and color as a young Raksuran consort, but it had smoother scales and webbed, leathery wings. Instead of spines, a rigid bone crest fanned out behind its head.
Moon shifted in reflex as groundlings screamed. Stone ducked aside but the ruler slammed into him and knocked him over the railing as it leapt from the gallery. Stone hit the rock floor below and landed in an ungainly sprawl.
Celadon dove over the stair railing, claws outstretched, but the Fell’s tail whipped out of her grasp. She landed in a crouch and sprang after it.
Moon started for Stone first, but Stone waved him away, shouting, “Go, go after it!”
Moon spun and bolted after Celadon. An older, larger queen would be more than a match for a ruler, but with a young queen like Celadon it might get the upper hand.
He rounded the corner ahead in time to see Celadon disappear down a side passage, leaving a trail of shouting, terrified groundlings. Moon went down the passage in three long bounds and tore around the corner after her.
At the end of the corridor, over the heads of fleeing groundlings, he saw that the wall opened into a big hollow shaft with chains hanging down. The Fell climbed up them, Celadon in close pursuit. Moon leapt up to the gallery, raced along it to the end, then flung himself off the railing and into the shaft. He caught the chains and climbed after Celadon.
After a few moments he realized one of the chains was moving down and the other was moving up, and that the wood and metal ceiling overhead was coming toward them. This is a cargo lift. The Fell must have realized it too, as it leapt to a stationary chain hanging to the side of the shaft, a guide line for the platform coming closer and closer. Celadon followed, leaping to catch the swaying chain, and Moon leapt after her. His weight swung it even further and it bounced him off the wall.
Above, the ruler glanced down, snarled, and climbed the last few paces to the platform, caught the edge and slung itself over. A chorus of groundling shrieks erupted from overhead.
Moon followed Celadon over the edge, his claws scraping painfully on the platform’s metal surface. Bails and boxes were stacked on it, with three terrified Aventerans huddled together and staring in wide-eyed terror. One bigger man lay sprawled near them, breathing in choked gasps, bleeding from claw rips across the chest.
Fortunately the Fell had been too busy fleeing Celadon to stop and tear them all apart; it climbed the chains away from the platform, toward the square of daylight in the side of the shaft another hundred paces or so up. Celadon followed it and Moon followed her.
It reached the opening and vanished outside. Moon drew breath to shout a warning, but Celadon stopped just below the lip of the square doorway and clung to the chain; her tail lashed in frustration. Good, Moon thought in relief. Celadon was experienced enough to realize the Fell would be waiting above the opening to drop on her as soon as she came out. It knew the two of them could catch it in the air, so it had to kill or wound them before it flew away from the city. As Moon climbed up below her, she bent down to him and mouthed the words, “I’ll go out first. When he drops on me, you get him from behind.”
Moon had a better plan. He shook his head and mouthed back, “I’ll go first; you get him from behind.” She glared at him, baring her teeth. He persisted, “You’re stronger.” Celadon could rip the ruler’s head right off; Moon didn’t have that kind of upper bo
dy strength. The ruler might have time to bite Celadon’s throat out while Moon was trying to get his claws through its hide.
Celadon hesitated, then grimaced in frustration and motioned him to go.
Moon climbed around her and clung to the chain above her head. The view out the square window was of empty sky and the outer edge of the lake. Moon took a deep breath and flung himself off the chain, caught the edge of the opening, and dove out.
It would have worked, if Moon hadn’t been a consort. The ruler saw his black scales and twisted away, realizing there was a queen about to hit him from behind. Moon spun in midair, clawed for the ruler. The ruler yanked his wings out of Moon’s reach and dove past him.
Celadon shot out of the opening, snarling in thwarted fury, and passed Moon, who angled his wings and rolled to get reoriented. They were just below the curve of the giant statue’s shoulder, balconies dotting its chest below them.
Celadon tried to cut upward to get above the Fell but a powerful gust of wind tossed all three of them like leaves. Then patches of the rock facing on the statue exploded in little bursts of dusty fragments. What—Moon had time to think, then Celadon shouted, “Projectile weapons!”
Moon saw one of the flying bladder boats hung in the air several hundred paces off. Two groundlings were out on one of its balconies, pointing long tube-like weapons at them. Right, that’s all this situation needed.
The ruler realized it too, and angled into a steep dive. Moon banked down and saw it was headed for a balcony a couple of hundred paces straight down where several groundlings stood. As Moon dove after the ruler, he caught a glimpse of Havram and Ennia among the shocked, upraised faces. He had time for the sour thought, Maybe this will finally convince Havram.
Groundlings scattered and Ennia shoved Havram out of the way, but the ruler landed on the balcony and snatched one of the smaller Aventerans.
Moon hit the paving in a half crouch, braced to leap on the ruler. Celadon landed a few paces away. The ruler’s captive was a young male Aventeran, his expression terrified and desperate, his hands already bloody from his instinctive grab at the clawed fist around his throat. Moon glanced at Celadon. She was breathing hard, and from her narrowed eyes it was from rage rather than exertion. The ruler’s intent was clear. If they came at him, he would gut the boy.