She didn’t like that answer. Her head tilted. “So maybe we should avoid throwing ourselves on top of predators. Alone. Without waiting for help.”
“There wasn’t time.” Moon grimaced and managed to pull his shirt off over his head. “You’ve told me—twice!—to go after Fell—”
“The first time, I didn’t expect you to actually attack a cloud-walker, and the second time, I told you to follow the kethel, not personally invade the Fell flight.”
Moon had been scouting, not invading, but he didn’t bother to mention that. “I don’t see your point.”
Jade’s first burst of anger was already fading to exasperation. “My point is that you are the first consort. My first consort. You can’t afford to risk yourself.”
“I’m not going to stand by and let someone get eaten.”
“I know. I know you’re not.” She pressed her hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. “But...you have other responsibilities.”
Other responsibilities, like fathering a clutch. Moon waited, his heart pounding, for her to bring that up.
Jade had decided three months ago, after the flying boats had left, that they should have a clutch, but nothing had happened yet. Moon was doing his part at every opportunity, so he had no idea what was wrong. And he found himself extremely reluctant to ask Jade if she had changed her mind.
He had also wondered if having a clutch was harder than he had supposed. He had seen groundlings have babies, but never another Raksura; he hadn’t even been sure if they had live births or eggs, and he hadn’t known that queens and Arbora females could control their fertility. Because of the problems at the old colony, all of the Arbora had stopped clutching long before Moon had gotten there, and the youngest babies had been nearly a turn old. But if there was something he was doing wrong, he was certain Jade would have pointed it out.
At one point another possible answer had occurred to him, but since Stone had already left with Niran and the others, there was no one to ask about it.
Jade looked at him and must have sensed his agitation. She shifted to her Arbora form, the closest equivalent that queens had to a groundling form. Her whole body softened to look like an Arbora’s, and her wings vanished. She had the same blue and silver-gray coloring but fewer spines, and more long frills in her mane. She stepped close, put her hand on the back of his neck and pressed her forehead to his. She said in a growl, “I understand that you had to help. Just don’t get yourself killed.”
Moon closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. “I realized where it was taking Sand, and there was no time to tell anyone else. I had to go.”
She stepped back. “No one died; I’m satisfied with that.” She eyed him. “I’m going to get a mentor to see to you.”
Moon sat down on the furs, trying not to yelp when his abused muscles contracted. He didn’t need a mentor, but he was too relieved that they weren’t going to talk about clutches or his inability to provide them to argue. “Is Pearl going to give you trouble about this?”
Heading for the passage, Jade made an eloquently derisive noise. “I can handle Pearl.”
Moon lay back on the furs, squinting at the ceiling overhead, considering his favorite carving. It depicted a whole court of Raksura, in different woods and set with polished gemstones. Queens in the center, larger than the others, and consorts next, with a darker wood used to represent their black scales, then clusters of male and female warriors, bodies twined or wings flared in flight. The outer edge was Arbora, wingless, stocky, and muscular where the Aeriat were slender. The artwork everywhere in the mountain-tree never showed Raksura in their soft-skinned groundling forms, something else Moon didn’t understand. Even though he had grown up alone, outside of a Raksuran court, he had known in his blood that both his forms were him, that he didn’t belong in one body or the other but both.
You’re still here, he reminded himself. Considering his past record at trying to fit in to settlements, this was an achievement.
Chapter Two
Two days later, the queens called for a formal augury.
Moon was still getting used to the vagaries of Raksuran behavior, but even before the augury started he had already gotten into trouble with Chime by making a comment implying that it was just a way to shift blame for important decisions onto the mentors.
“No, this kind of augury is very accurate, and very important to the court,” Chime insisted, too loudly.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Moon couldn’t help glancing around to see if anyone else had heard.
They were in an anteroom on the edge of the cavernous greeting hall, which at the moment held almost every member of the court. Arbora and warriors gathered on the main floor and lined the two open stairways that criss-crossed up the far wall, below the balconies and the round doorways opening into the higher levels. Above the staircases, the huge well wound up in a big spiral through the tree.
Almost everyone was in their groundling forms, though several younger warriors kept their wings and clung to the walls or hung from the balconies by their foot-claws or tails. Only the children in the nurseries, and a few teachers who had stayed there to watch them, were missing. There was a low hum of conversation, some jostling among the warriors and younger Arbora, and an air of anticipation and impatience. But even with almost everyone present, there was still plenty of space in the greeting hall: a reminder of how small the Indigo Cloud court was now compared to its former glory.
Unappeased, Chime persisted, “So what’s wrong? Why do you think this is a bad idea?”
Moon hissed, annoyed. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He just didn’t think it was a good way to solve this problem.
And he was worried about what else the augury might reveal.
“But then why—” Chime began, when Balm gave them both a prod from behind and said, “Come on, Jade’s waiting.”
Jade was waiting, sitting at the edge of the clear circle in the center of the hall, radiating impatience. Moon started toward her, and Chime and Balm followed.
The hall had been an impressive enough sight when they first arrived at the tree, but was even better now that the wood and inlay had been cleaned and polished, all the shells spelled to glow with soft light, and the moss scrubbed off the walls. The narrow column of water that streamed out of a high channel and fell to the pool in the floor was now clean and sweet.
Jade looked up at their approach, smiling briefly though the angle of her spines said she was somewhat annoyed. She said, “You look nervous.”
The warriors around her made way, and Moon took a seat on the floor behind her. He was nervous, though he didn’t want to talk about it. As a distraction, he said, “Chime is trying to make everyone think I don’t want the augury.”
Jade leaned back to give Chime a look as he and Balm took seats behind Moon. Chime said, “I am not. I was just asking—”
Balm poked him again. “Ask later.”
Heart waited in the center of the hall with Merit, the next most powerful mentor, both in their groundling forms. Heart was lovely, with the dark amber skin and bronze-colored hair common among the Indigo Cloud Arbora. Though the two were close in age, Merit had always looked and sounded younger, with wide-set eyes, warm brown skin and fluffy light-colored hair. Inexperience and a somewhat frivolous turn of mind had caused him to be passed over for the position of chief mentor. From what Moon could tell, he seemed more relieved by that than anything else. Heart looked nervous now, and kept rubbing her hands on her light-colored skirt, as if her palms were sweaty. There were many different ways to augur, and he wondered if it was the first time she had done one like this. Or at least done it in front of so large an audience.
Waiting at her feet was a large shallow bowl made of marbled green-gray stone. It might have some deep ceremonial significance now, but Moon had first seen it used by the Arbora to grind nuts into meal. It was surrounded by a dozen or so much smaller bowls of dark blue glazed pottery.
“Where’s P
earl?” Moon whispered to Jade.
Jade’s tail twitched in irritation. Her impatience with the whole process was ill-concealed, and Moon wasn’t sure of the reason. “She has to make an entrance. Here she comes now.”
Moon glanced up. Pearl, her wings spread, dropped down the central well.
Pearl wasn’t the oldest or largest queen Moon had ever seen, but she was still impressive. Her scales were brilliant gold, overlaid with a webbed pattern of deepest indigo blue. The frilled mane behind her head was like a golden sunburst, and there were more frills on the tips of her folded wings, on the triangle-shape at the end of her tail. Like Jade, she wore only jewelry.
She landed gracefully on the polished wooden floor and folded her wings. Her favorite warriors landed in a half-circle behind her, River, Drift, Coil, Floret, and Sage. Behind him, Moon heard a faint rude snort from Chime, and a rustle as Balm elbowed him in reproof.
Pearl sat down and nodded at Heart. Heart picked up a small bowl and started to stand.
Jade said, “This could be a waste of time without Stone here.”
Heart stopped, looked uncertainly from one queen to the other.
Pearl tilted her head in subtle threat. “Nevertheless, we’re doing it.”
Jade and Pearl had managed to work out a way to rule the court between them that was uneasy at best and violent at worst, but it worked, and that was the important thing. But one point they had been unable to resolve was whether to let the Arbora clutch this season or wait.
All Raksuran warriors were born infertile; only queens and consorts, and Arbora females and males could make clutches. A queen and consort pair like Jade and Moon were expected to produce a few warriors along with the next generation of royal Aeriat, but most of the burden of populating the court fell on the Arbora. Jade had been in favor of letting them produce clutches as early as their first two months here, and it had been Pearl who had wanted to wait until the colony tree’s garden platforms had been fully reclaimed and planted. But within the past couple of months, both had reversed their positions.
Jade sat back, her mouth a thin line.
At Pearl’s nod, Heart went to her first. She knelt and shifted to her Arbora form. Pearl held out her hand and Heart scratched across the scales of Pearl’s palm with her claw. Heart held the bowl out, but no blood welled. Pearl flicked a spine in amusement, and said, “You have to bear down, child.”
“Sorry,” Heart whispered, embarrassed. There was a rustle and murmur of amusement through the watching crowd, combined with relief that Pearl had decided to be in a good mood. The Fell influence focused on the court had affected Pearl badly, working on a mind already depressed by the loss of her consort and the other setbacks Indigo Cloud had faced over the turns. Pearl was better than she had been before the court had moved here, but she still hated “trouble.” Which she apparently defined as any member of the court doing anything that caused her to notice they existed.
Pearl took Heart’s claw in her free hand and drew it across her palm again. This time the blood came, and Heart carefully caught a few drops in the little bowl.
Jade held out her hand as Heart stood and came to her. Despite her air of annoyance, Jade managed a smile at Heart as her blood was drawn. It was Moon’s turn next, and Heart drew her claw more gently across his groundling skin.
He watched his blood drip into the little bowl, mingling with Pearl’s and Jade’s, and felt his heart beat a little faster.
Heart might have felt his pulse pound through his hand. She gave him a quick, reassuring smile, then stood to carry the bowl back to the stone vessel waiting at the center of the circle. She shifted to her groundling form as she knelt, picked up a copper ewer, and poured a little water into the bowl. She swirled it gently to mix with the blood, then poured it into the larger stone container.
Merit and a couple of the other young mentors shifted from their groundling forms, took more of the small bowls, and began to move among the other Arbora, bypassing the infertile warriors. Moon wasn’t sure how they decided who to pick, but suspected it had something to do with the different bloodlines in the court. Another Raksuran thing he had no idea about.
After a few moments they carried the bowls back to Heart. She took each, mixed the contents with water, then added them to the stone vessel. That was Moon’s blood, mixing with the blood of the rest of the court, and possibly it should have been a significant moment. Moon just felt nervous.
Heart poured the last bowl, then leaned over the vessel to study the result. Merit and the other mentors joined her, their expressions tense with concentration.
The chamber grew profoundly silent as everyone waited. Jade tapped her claws on her thigh. Moon felt someone breathing on the back of his head and twisted around to find that Chime had risen to a crouch, craning his neck to try to see into the vessel. Moon elbowed him and he reluctantly subsided.
Finally, Heart said, “The signs are favorable for new clutches at the end of this season.”
It sounded like good news, and there was a pleased murmur from the watching Arbora. Moon was the only one close enough to hear Jade hiss under her breath. But Heart was frowning, and Merit gave her an uneasy glance. The other young mentors looked confused and uncertain.
Pearl’s voice was tightly controlled. “And what else?”
The chamber fell silent again, this time in anxious anticipation. Heart said, slowly, “Someone watches.”
Everyone froze. Oh no, Moon thought. Jade’s claws stopped tapping. Heart looked up, belatedly realizing the effect those two words had had. “Not the Fell! Not like before. I’m not sure...I don’t think this is even about our court. It might be another court we have contact with.”
“It might be a shadow of what happened before,” Merit said, still concentrating on the bowl. “It’s definitely not about us.”
“Not the Fell, and not us,” Jade repeated, as a wave of relief passed over the court and everyone breathed again. Moon rubbed his forehead and managed not to growl. They hadn’t needed that scare, brief as it had been.
Pearl’s spines shivered in barely controlled irritation. “Anything else?”
Heart looked into the bowl again and said reluctantly, “There are signs for...some upheaval.”
“How much upheaval?” Pearl asked.
Heart shook her head slightly, still studying the swirled pattern of blood and water. “Not...terrible upheaval.” There was a nod of agreement from Merit. “But...the course will not be smooth.”
Pearl frowned, considering that. Jade said, “That’s usual for our court, isn’t it?”
There was another stir, this time of amusement. Pearl made a dismissive gesture. “We’re still learning to live in this place. Doubtless there will be setbacks.”
Bone, the leader of the hunters’ caste, added, “And if these upheavals don’t interfere with the clutching, then they can’t be too difficult to handle.”
Bone was old for an Arbora, and his groundling form showed the signs of age, with white hair and an ashy cast to his dark bronze skin. He was heavily built and had a ring of scar tissue around his neck where something had unwisely tried to bite his head off, testifying to his fighting prowess. He tended to be a calming influence on the court. His opinion carried weight and the fact that neither he nor the queens were worried seemed to reassure everybody.
That signaled the end of the augury, and everyone started to mill around and talk. Jade leaned over to Moon and whispered, “I’m going to talk to Pearl. I still think it would be a bad idea to let them all clutch at once. If we can at least get some of them to hold off for a while—”
“What was that?” Pearl suddenly stood over them. The Arbora and warriors nearby rapidly dispersed, hurried out the passage to the knothole, vanished up or down the stairs, or climbed up to the levels overhead. Chime practically bolted. Balm, after she caught Jade’s eye, followed at a more sedate pace.
Jade stood, settled her wings deliberately, and said, “I don’t think we should let t
hem all clutch at once.”
Pearl cocked her head. “Oh, and you think choosing which ones can clutch now and which will wait isn’t going to cause trouble?”
Jade was unimpressed. “I think they’re quite capable of choosing for themselves.”
Pearl snorted in grim amusement. “Then you’re a fool.”
Moon thought one solution might be to let the Arbora who wanted to clutch draw lots to see who went first, but he knew enough to keep it to himself until he could mention it to Jade in private. Pearl was more than capable of rejecting any idea that came from him.
Moon had never been sure if Pearl despised him because he was a feral solitary dragged in by Stone when she had been expecting a respectable consort with an important bloodline from Star Aster, or if she just didn’t like him. She had at one point suggested that he become her consort instead, though it had been pretty clear to Moon that it had been for the strategic value of having a consort again, not for any personal attraction. At least he hoped so; sometimes, with a Raksuran queen, it was hard to tell.
Jade bared her teeth. “Let’s tell the Arbora that you think they’re incapable of working it out for themselves and see what they say to that.”
Moon felt it likely that the Arbora already knew Pearl’s opinion. It wasn’t like they hadn’t known her all their lives.
Pearl counter-attacked, pointing her claws at Moon. “Your consort hasn’t done his duty by the Arbora yet; is that why you’re not eager for them to clutch? If none of them produce mentors, we’ll know whose fault that is.”
Jade flared her spines. “You don’t know that.”
Moon decided now would be a good time for a strategic retreat, and eased to his feet. Consorts were supposed to sleep with Arbora females in the belief that it helped the Arbora produce warriors and mentors. Moon had female Arbora friends but he didn’t know if they had planned to clutch or if they wanted to risk trying it with his unknown bloodline; asking them seemed like it would be the most awkward thing in the world. And if he couldn’t give Jade a clutch, he doubted he could give one to an Arbora. Trying would just expose his weakness.