As Auburn got to his feet and left the bower, Moon sniffed the tea cautiously, then tasted it. It was warm water barely flavored with tea, but when he drank the cup it soothed his dry throat, and his stomach decided it might live after all. “What happened to Russet?” he asked Stone.
“Nothing, yet. They had to wait to see if you recovered.” Stone scratched his head vigorously, still trying to wake himself up. “It’s a bad situation for the whole court.”
Moon refused to feel guilty, or tried to. Every Raksuran court he visited seemed to face trouble because of him, sooner or later. He just hoped nothing had happened to Viridian Sea. And while Tempest’s sister Halcyon had ended up fighting to the death, and he knew warriors were punished with exile and became solitaries, he had never seen or heard of an Arbora doing anything bad enough to warrant any punishment whatsoever. He had never even seen one get the slap to the head usually meted out to warriors for their transgressions. “So... what are they going to do to her?”
Stone gave him a look. “She tried to kill a consort. The only consort left in the reigning queen’s bloodline. What do you think they’re going to do to her?”
Moon wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the blankets and sleep, but there was too much that had to be done.
Auburn returned with Lithe and two more mentors, who came to check Moon over again and to advise that he sleep for the rest of the day. Moon sent them away to tell Malachite that whatever she planned to do with Russet, he wanted to be there, and to tell her he was going back to the groundling city to talk to them again about the Fell unless somebody came up with a better plan.
He had been thinking of Malachite as an enemy. It had finally hit home at some point last night, maybe when she had touched his face, that what Celadon and Umber and everyone else had told him was true. That she might be a powerful ally.
She already meant to stop the Fell. Getting her to stop them before they destroyed Aventera was going to be the problem. Once Moon had that figured out, getting her to let him return to Indigo Cloud with Jade shouldn’t be nearly as difficult. He hoped.
One thing he desperately needed before any of this was a bath, and he was standing under the cool water channel when Chime walked into the bathing room with a bundle under his arm. Chime said, “Good, you really are better. From the message you sent with the Arbora, we thought so, but it’s a relief to see it.”
“Where’s Jade?”
“In the queens’ hall with Malachite. She sent the rest of us back to the flying boat to rest, but she stayed.” He regarded Moon intently. “So... how are you?”
“Fine.” At Chime’s expression, Moon admitted, “Not so good. But we don’t have time.”
Chime hesitated, then clearly decided there was no point in arguing. He put the bundle down on the flat stone table used for drying clothes. “Your mother sent you some gifts. If you don’t take them, she might kill me. I mean, that was just the impression I got.”
Moon stepped out of the pool and dried off. He felt more alert, more able to at least get his eyes all the way open. He hadn’t tried to shift yet, and he still felt too weak to make the effort. He felt too weak to be standing up, actually, and sat down on the edge of the bathing pool. “What did she send?”
Chime opened the bundle and pulled out clothes, laying them out on the drying rock. They were of a very fine material but sturdy, like the cloth Indigo Cloud had made at the old colony. The shirt was black and the pants a dark gray, and there was a belt made of a very soft, dark mottled hide, set with tiny rounds of bone intricately carved into flowers. There was also a long robe, the dark fabric woven in strips of different textures, the collar trimmed with a heavy brocade. It was possibly the most expensive looking garment Moon had ever seen in his life.
Watching Moon’s lack of reaction, Chime said, “This is nice, and probably meant well, and accepting presents from your birthqueen doesn’t obligate you to anything—”
“It’s all right, Chime,” Moon said, too weary to be really exasperated. “I won’t send them back.”
“Oh, good.” Chime looked relieved. “There was this, too. I think it’s jewelry.” He held out a small packet of silky cloth.
Moon unwrapped the piece. It was a small disk made of ivory, carved into waved lines that in Raksuran art symbolized the wind. The pointed ends all went to the left, which meant it was a west wind. A darker rim of jade had once circled it, but had snapped off halfway around. From that and the rough texture of the back, Moon could tell it had once been part of a larger piece.
Chime leaned over to see, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s broken.”
Moon rubbed his thumb over a reddish stain on the ivory. “That’s blood.”
They looked at each other. Chime said, “Your mother is strange. I think I owe Pearl an apology for all the things I’ve ever thought...” He drew in a sharp breath in realization. “Unless that belonged to...”
“Her consort, my father.” Moon closed his hand over the disk.
Stone and Chime walked Moon to the queens’ hall and stopped outside. Only Opal Night Raksura were to be present for this.
When Moon stepped into the queens’ hall, everyone stared at him. For once he didn’t mind. He had meant to make an entrance this time.
Malachite, with Celadon behind her, sat in the center of the chamber. Around the walls were twenty or so older Arbora, probably the leaders of the castes and all the prominent elders, plus all the mentors Moon had seen last night. Moon recognized Feather, the teacher who had taken care of him before the eastern colony was attacked. Lithe and Auburn were there too, and Moss, the young Arbora male that Russet had accused. A group of warriors sat behind Malachite and Celadon, mostly older females, including Rise. Onyx and her daughter queens and consorts and warriors were conspicuously absent. Moon took that to mean that this was only for the Arbora and the members of Malachite’s bloodline. Everyone was in groundling form, and even Celadon wore her Arbora form. Only Malachite kept her wings.
Malachite was also the only one who didn’t show any sign of surprise or agitation at Moon’s appearance. She indicated a pile of cushions a few paces from her side. It was a relief; Moon was trembling just from the walk here. He had drunk an entire pot of tea and eaten a little dry bread, but Auburn thought he should make sure that stayed down before he tried anything more substantial. Moon agreed with the advice, but lack of food made him cold and weak.
Moon went to the cushions and sat down, managing it with only a small thump when his legs gave out at the last moment. Malachite watched him, and he realized she had seen that he wore the ivory piece on a cord around his neck. She pulled her gaze away from it. “Get him another wrap.”
All the warriors twitched to obey the command but Rise was closest and got to her feet first. She brought Moon a silky blanket from the pile to one side of the room and he took it without protest.
As Rise returned to her seat, Malachite said, “You don’t have to be here.”
“I want to be here,” Moon said. His voice still came out hoarse and weak. “Did Auburn give you my message?”
“Yes.” Malachite’s tail tip flicked, the only sign of agitation or impatience that she had betrayed so far. “Why do you care so much about this groundling city?”
“Just because they’re vulnerable and too stupid to realize it doesn’t mean they should die.” He added deliberately, “And because I think you have a plan to use them as bait, so you can attack while the Fell are distracted.”
There was another stir in the room, an uneasy one this time, and Celadon’s spines trembled anxiously. That told Moon he was right. He hadn’t thought Malachite, who had rescued the remnants of her court and killed off an entire Fell flight into the bargain, would wait long before deciding what to do. Or that she would disregard an obvious advantage.
Malachite tilted her head and regarded him steadily. Moon forced himself not to drop his gaze. After a long moment, her tail tip flicked again and she said, “We??
?ll speak of that later.”
She looked away, and Moon tried to make his exhalation of relief silent. She said, “Bring Russet.”
Two of the younger Arbora got up and went out, to return a few moments later with Russet. She wasn’t restrained in any way, but she was surrounded by a group of young male and female Arbora, with the strong builds and rough practical clothing that usually indicated soldiers. Moon wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but after her furious reaction to being caught last night, Russet’s expression now surprised him. Her eyes were downcast, and she looked grave and sad.
The soldiers stepped away from her and went to sit down, leaving her in the center of the room, ten paces from Malachite.
One of the older Arbora said, “Three different mentors have looked into Russet’s mind, and whatever happened in the past, there is no Fell influence now.”
A sigh went through the Arbora, a shocked murmur through the warriors. Moon translated that to mean that the Arbora had been hoping against hope that Russet had been acting under Fell influence, and so was not responsible for anything she had done. The warriors had assumed that she was under Fell influence, that no Arbora would do this of her own volition. Moon thought she might have been influenced turns ago during the attack; she would have no memory of it. This might be what happened if the influence remained and the victim was never made aware of it, that it would do strange things to your thoughts, even after all trace of it finally faded. He was glad Balm wasn’t here to see this.
Russet looked up at the reaction, and her gaze fell on Moon. She went still for a moment, then looked down again.
It was Celadon who said, “This is your chance to speak for yourself, Russet. Tell us what happened.”
Russet drew a sharp breath, then said, “It started back then, at the eastern colony.” She stopped, clenching her jaw, as if speaking of it was painful. Moon felt the first creeping doubt that she was playacting, that the truth of her feelings was very different.
“Go on,” another Arbora said. They were all watching her, as still as if they were stalking prey. Some looked openly distressed, like Moss, but with the others it was hard to tell.
Russet wet her lips, and said, “I used to go out with the hunters, sometimes. One day I got separated from them. I met... a creature in the forest. I thought it was a groundling at first, then I realized it was a strange kind of shifter. It asked me questions. It... It’s easy to say I should have known. But it was hard not to answer. I don’t remember what it did, but I told it everything it wanted to know.” She swallowed. “It was a Fell ruler.”
It was all too possible. According to Feather, the court had never encountered Fell before. The first time Moon had seen Fell in the groundling city of Saraseil, he thought he might have been one of them.
“When they attacked, when they killed the soldiers and the other teachers to get to the nurseries, I knew they had been lying. Swift heard me beg them... She heard enough to know I had spoken to one before. They let me live; I don’t know why. I ran into Swift and she accused me... I lied to her, I told her I wasn’t the only one, that there were others. If she tried to tell anyone, it would be all of us against her, and no one would believe her.” She looked at Moon squarely for the first time. “She left, and I never saw her again. That must have been when she fled with you and the other children.”
Swift, Moon thought in the silence that followed. Swift who changed her name to Sorrow. In some ways, none of this was a surprise.
Then Malachite’s voice fell into the silence like a clatter of steel. “You’re lying.”
Russet stared at her. “I... No...”
Malachite’s claws flexed. “Swift was a young warrior, the only survivor of a sickly clutch who had not much distinguished herself in the court, but she was not a fool. Subsequent events proved she obviously didn’t lack for courage. You told her there were others who had turned against the court and would falsely accuse her, but I believe she also saw something that so appalled her that she fled with no hope of ever returning.”
As if she couldn’t contain herself a second longer, Feather burst out, “All the fledgling consorts were together with Yarrow. Why did Swift save Moon and not the others? What happened to Yarrow? Swift must have run across my—the Arbora babies on the way out, but if she had found more fledglings alive—” Feather’s fists clenched, as if she fought the urge not to shift and leap on Russet. “Why didn’t she take the others?”
There was a low chorus of hisses from the Arbora, as Feather’s words hit home. Celadon’s spines flared. Moon struggled to remember, focused on that one image that had surfaced when he had first met Feather, of clinging to Sorrow—to Swift as she flew, the others crying. But there was nothing else.
Malachite said, “Answer Feather’s question.”
Russet’s face twisted in fury. “I don’t know what Swift was thinking. How could I?”
“What were you thinking?” one of the other Arbora asked, harsh with anger. “If that was what happened, if you were tricked and deceived by the Fell, why didn’t you tell us? We could have forgiven you that. Especially later, with all we learned of them.”
“We could have forgiven you that,” Malachite said. “If that was all you did.” Her tail tip twitched. “There would be no reason to kill the only surviving consort of my last clutch, for terror of what he might know. There would be no reason for fear and guilt to eat you for all these turns, until there is nothing of you left but this shell.”
Feather persisted, “What did Swift see you do? You didn’t just tell the Fell how to get in. Did you take them to the fledgling consorts, hand them over to the rulers?” Her voice rose. “Did you kill Yarrow yourself?”
“Tell them,” Moon said, and his voice came out in that harsh croak. “Tell them what you did.”
Russet stared at him, then her face twisted, turning ugly and desperate. “It wasn’t me. The Fell forced me—”
“Tell them,” Moon repeated. “Or I will.” His heart thumped at the chance he was taking. If she refused, he would have to admit he didn’t remember and they would never know what had happened.
Russet growled, then gasped out, “They promised they’d spare my children! My clutch, they were all warrior fledglings. But the Fell lied, they killed them, they didn’t want warriors—” She stopped, fighting for calm. “I had to kill the royal fledglings. I did it so the Fell wouldn’t get them. I did it—I did it—I wanted to hurt the Fell, and taking away what they wanted so badly was the only way. Yarrow tried to stop me, he didn’t understand. I killed him too. That’s what Swift saw. Moon was the only one left. She got him before the rulers could.”
Celadon turned to Moon. “You saw this?”
He shook his head, too cold inside to feel any victory. “I don’t remember it.”
Despair and fury warred on Russet’s face. She stared at Moon, her lips forming a silent snarl. “You said you did.”
“I’m a good liar too,” he told her.
Feather shifted and sprang. Moon had time to think that this would be the end of Russet, but Malachite was suddenly on her feet, in the center of the room. She caught Feather around the waist, held her easily despite the spines and flailing claws. Feather’s growl rose to a deep shout of rage. “I’ll kill her! Let me be the one to kill her!”
“No.” Malachite dropped her. Feather landed on her feet and crouched, snarling up at her. Then the snarl died away. Feather shifted to groundling, sat down hard, and buried her face in her hands. Malachite turned toward Russet.
Russet backed away, growling low. Malachite said, “You might have been tricked by the Fell in the past, but there was no trick when you poisoned the last consort of my bloodline.”
“You’ll kill me?” Russet bared her teeth and sneered up at her. “A queen kill an Arbora? The word will spread through the other courts—”
“Yes, it’s unheard of, almost unthinkable.” It was another Arbora who spoke. She stood and moved forward into the center of the room,
and stopped beside Feather. Her skin was tinted gray with age and her gray hair had streaks of pure white. She gazed at Russet, her face set with cold condemnation. “Like an Arbora killing another Arbora, killing fledglings, killing a consort. You were a teacher.” She almost spat the word. “What have you become now?”
Russet snarled, her expression twitching through fury, desperation, despair, and back. “I... I did...” She snarled, “I did what I had to!”
The older Arbora said to Malachite, “You’re right. It’s this or exile, and she has reason to hate all of us now that we know her secret. We could never feel safe again.” She leaned down, caught Feather’s wrist, and hauled her up and away from Malachite.
Malachite swept the room with a glance, but there were no objections. All the Arbora watched her, waiting.
Russet broke and lunged away. Malachite moved so swiftly Moon didn’t realize it until he heard the crack of bone snapping. Russet collapsed, a limp heap. Moon heard the sigh as the last breath left her lungs.
Moon didn’t flinch, his reactions slowed by the aftereffects of the poison, but he was the only one. A low hiss sounded through the room, of dismay, relief, sorrow.
Malachite turned away. A few of the Arbora stood, one draped a blanket over the body, and they began to gather it up. The others spoke quietly, sadly.
Moon didn’t feel any satisfaction; mostly what he felt was emptiness. Swift had seen terrible things. Not knowing that the Fell could influence Raksuran minds, it must have been a profound shock. She must have thought everyone in the court had gone mad. If she hadn’t, she would have tried to look for other survivors, and your life would have been completely different. He had no idea how he felt about that. It seemed pointless to feel anything about it at all. He looked up to realize Malachite stood over him. She said, “Go and rest now.”
She showed absolutely no sign, in her eyes or expression or body language, that she had just killed an Arbora. All the others in the room, warriors and Arbora alike, even though they had known what was coming and supported it, were either as shocked as if the floor had just collapsed under them or looked as drained and worn as if they had been ill for months. Moon pushed those thoughts aside. “I want to talk to you about the Fell.”