There were more remains around the entrance, a round doorway in the top that led down into the structure. The bones weren’t ornamental, Moon decided as he climbed down the half-stair half-ladder of secretion-covered debris. The placement of long bones, skulls and jaw fragments was entirely random. He had seen kethel wear scalps or bones as decorations, but these looked like they were no more prized than the scrap wood.
Light came from various sources, all of which must have been looted from groundlings: a chased metal container with a glowing ball inside, that flickered madly as whatever powered it failed, glowing plant material packed into wicker boxes, some glowing mineral blocks like the ones Moon had seen in the turning city in the eastern mountains. Thedes led them through a maze of small chambers and dim passages, spiraling down through the multiple levels of the nest. The deeper they went, the more Moon sensed movement all around them, hidden in the dark, bodies drawing breath and pumping blood, waiting and watching. But the only clear sound was his own heart pounding and the hitch of fear in Shade’s breath.
Then the passage turned into a steep slope down into a larger chamber. One side was supported with the wooden frame and partial wall of a groundling ship, either a water-going vessel or a flying one, it was hard to tell. The dark wooden planking on the wall still showed signs of faded paint, and had a round window with silver studs. The other half of the room was supported by giant arches of bone, the ribcage of some large creature as big as a... kethel, Moon thought, suddenly realizing what he was looking at. Part of the chamber was made out of the body cavity of a dead kethel.
Thedes led them further in, to where the floor became a series of broad uneven steps, curving down toward the far end. Fell lounged in the shadows everywhere. Moon was braced to see crossbreeds, but the dakti he could spot looked like ordinary Fell. Some were in their groundling forms, naked, their bodies small and thin with light skin, matted dark hair, and rough features. They stared at Moon and Shade with dark eyes and identical expressions of hungry interest.
Then the room curved around and Moon saw the progenitor.
She sat on a pile of rich fabrics and clothing looted from groundling prey. Even curled into a sitting position, he could tell she was much larger than the one other progenitor he had had the misfortune to see. Her scales were black, her leathery wings wrapped around her body, and she looked like a ruler with a smaller head crest and a softer texture to her armored scales. But he thought she would be at least a head taller than Thedes. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if she was older, more powerful.
Several younger rulers gathered in front of her, with more scattered clothing for cushions. Their white skin seemed to shine in the dimness of the room, their dark hair like falls of silk, framing the cold, perfect beauty of their features.
A quiver of movement drew Moon’s gaze to the shapes that lay piled on the floor behind the rulers. As he realized what they were, the sharp shock cleared his thoughts. He made himself focus on the fine clothes the rulers wore, some in tatters, relics from their previous feeding, some new brocades that came from their prey at Aventera. Made himself remember that the beauty was a lie and a trap, a mask to hide blind predatory hunger.
He slid a sideways glance at Shade, wondering if Shade’s blood made him immune or easier prey to the Fell influence. He nudged Shade’s arm, and tilted his head toward the pile.
Shade twitched, stared, and made a choked-off noise of distress.
The shapes tumbled there were slender bodies with pale gray skin: dead male and female Aventerans, some naked and some still partially clothed. The Fell were about to eat.
Thedes melted into his groundling form. He smiled, and it was as if he drew all the light and air toward him. Moving with weightless grace, he moved to a spot near the other rulers and sat down. He gestured. “Sit with us.”
Shade’s spines shivered, and he looked at Moon in mute appeal. Moon gripped his wrist, squeezing briefly to reassure Shade and steady himself. Moon stepped into the empty spot next to Thedes and sat down on the mat of discarded clothing. The fabrics were heavy and rich, the scent rising up held must, dried blood, piss, and old fear sweat. Shade sank down next to him, trembling.
Thedes smiled his approval. Moon felt it pull at some small part of his heart, and hated himself for it. Thedes said, “This is how friends behave.”
Shade hissed in angry disbelief. The rulers all tilted their heads, almost in unison. One said, “Why do we wait? That one was there when Ivades was killed; I see it in him.”
Thedes said, “That was the past. We are friends now.” He waited, as if giving the others the chance to voice any objections. Then he said, “Now we eat. Like friends.”
A few dakti eased forward to the pile of groundling bodies and shifted to their winged forms. The first one leaned in, ripped an arm off an Aventeran woman, and carried it to the progenitor.
The progenitor accepted the offering and bit into it, ripping off a chunk and chewing with delicate precision. The other dakti tore into the corpses, pulled off the arms and legs and carried them to the rulers. Moon was careful not to let his eyes focus on the bodies. He didn’t want to see an Aventeran face he recognized. Or any sign that some of them weren’t quite dead yet. The rulers started to eat, their fangs digging into the gray flesh.
Then a dakti stepped between Thedes and Moon, its leathery wings brushing Moon’s shoulder. It dropped a groundling leg in front of Shade, the bruised gray flesh stained with congealed blood. Shade flinched. Moon ignored it.
Thedes said, “We asked you to eat with us.”
Moon should have seen this coming, should have sensed the sick inevitability of it. He said, “No.”
Thedes fixed his gaze on Shade. “He speaks for you.”
“He does,” Shade said. His voice came out in a growl.
“If he was not here, you would eat?”
Shade showed his fangs, and it caused a moment of stillness among the rulers and dakti. “I won’t eat.”
“You prefer different food,” Thedes said. He inclined his head toward Moon. “We can provide.”
Moon sensed movement behind him and flared his spines just as a weight struck his head. He pitched forward and rolled, realized it was a dakti as it tumbled off him. He shoved upright but more dakti hit him, bounced him off the far wall and slammed him into the floor. Moon clawed, bit and twisted but they piled on top of him and there were too many. He felt claws dig into his scales but not rips or slashes, and knew they were trying to smother him unconscious. The panic of that thought almost made him lose the remaining air in his lungs, then the weight lessened abruptly.
He rolled to a crouch, breathing hard, braced to move. Dakti scattered and Shade stood only a few paces away, spines flared, facing Thedes and the other rulers. Shade snarled, “Leave him alone, and I’ll do it.”
“No, don’t—” Moon said in reflex, but Thedes said, “Quiet. Stay there. Speak again and we will bring the warriors here and eat them.”
Moon knew that wasn’t an idle threat. He subsided unwillingly, his spines flicking in helpless agitation. As if nothing had happened, Thedes said to Shade, “Sit. Eat. We will be friends.”
Shade’s spines flattened in despair and he stepped back to the spot where the torn leg lay. He sat down, and Moon saw his muscles tense as he braced himself. He picked up the leg, tore out a bite, chewed and swallowed it. He dropped the leg as if it had stung his hand, but Thedes seemed satisfied.
The progenitor and the rulers began to eat again. Moon felt every nerve under his scales twitch with the urge to flee, but he stayed where he was. Shade didn’t look at him.
When the progenitor and the rulers were finished, the dakti slunk forward again and dragged the heads, torsos, and other remains to the back of the room, where they tore them apart, stuffing the flesh into their mouths.
Then the progenitor uncoiled, pulled her wings back and drifted to her feet. Shade stood, his spines trembling. Moon’s throat was dry. They were about to find out what
the Fell wanted with them. To find out I made a mistake by not setting us all on fire, he thought.
As the progenitor paced towards Shade, something stirred in the nest behind her, then heaved itself into a sitting position. It was about the size of a dakti, but there was something different, unformed, about its leathery wings and its headcrest. As its head lifted up and bright black eyes opened, Moon realized it must be a fledgling progenitor. It crept forward a pace, snagged a groundling arm left beside the nest, and bit into it with relish.
The progenitor stopped a pace away from Shade, then slowly circled him, step by step. She cocked her head, examining him with deliberation. Shade twitched, but managed to keep his spines still through sheer effort of will. She stopped in front of him, and said, “Show me your other self.”
Her voice was deep and grating, with a strange quality to it, as if it came from a much larger body. Shade flicked a sideways look at Moon. “No.”
The progenitor studied Moon, then turned back to Shade. “The Raksura will never let you breed. I would give you anything you wanted.”
Shade bared his fangs and his array of spines rippled and lifted. “I don’t want to breed, ever. And I have everything I want, except to see you dead.”
Something in the progenitor’s body language changed, and Moon realized that she had spoken hoping to provoke this reaction from Shade.
She said, “Thedes told you you would understand the significance of what our guide has revealed to us.”
She heard what Thedes said to us, Moon thought. Maybe she had even seen them and the others on the boat through his eyes.
She didn’t gesture, but one of the dakti slunk forward, holding a flat wooden case. Shade’s tail lashed uneasily. Moon had no idea what this could be, except that it was probably something horrible.
The dakti opened the case and held it out. Moon warily stretched to see. Inside was a flat fragment of crystal, jagged on the edges as if it had been broken off a larger piece. The flicker of light sparked blue and silver reflections inside it. If it was a weapon, it was a strange one.
“Touch it,” the progenitor said.
Moon drew breath to tell Shade not to do it, but Shade snapped, “You touch it.”
The progenitor stared at him, and Moon felt a chill across his scales as the temperature in the room dropped. Then Thedes stepped up beside the dakti and touched a finger to the crystal.
Gray lines formed on it, gradually resolved into a drawing. The image had been etched onto the crystal and Thedes’s light touch had brought it to the surface. Moon didn’t think the Fell could have created something like that, either with magic or without, and he wondered what groundling race they had stolen it from. As the drawing became more defined, he could see it was an Aeriat Raksura, but with something odd about its head and back... It has too many spines and a crest. Like Shade.
Shade hissed in a breath, confused. “Who is that?”
The progenitor said, “A forerunner. Our mutual origin.”
Shade stared at the image. “You’re saying that this is one of the species that the Aeriat Raksura and the Fell descended from.”
“We had a prey make it for us, to our description. Prey are sometimes useful for things other than eating.”
“Is this what you were trying to do?” Shade spoke in a tone of cold realization. “By making crossbreeds?”
Moon stared at him, startled. That couldn’t be right. They want more power, they want Fell queens and mentor-dakti that can stop us from shifting, that can scry to spy on us and augur. He looked at the image again. But the progenitor hadn’t shown any interest in Lithe, and if they wanted power, a half-Fell mentor had to be better than a half-Fell consort, no matter what he looked like. Unless the Fell thought Shade had some special ability.
Shade said, “But why? Why do you want this?”
The progenitor answered, “Because this is the key our guide needs.”
“The key to what?” Shade glared at her in frustration. “And who is your guide?”
“You will see when we arrive.”
Shade snarled. “How did it know I was at Opal Night?”
“It knows. It has watched for a—” The progenitor abruptly went still. Then all the Fell in the room went still. Except for the fledgling progenitor, who looked around curiously. Shade twitched with nerves. Moon’s back teeth itched. It was as if the progenitor held them all in some sort of mutual spell. If it’s the progenitor. Maybe they were listening to something, or someone, else.
Suddenly whatever it was released them. The progenitor’s body became fluid again. A ripple seemed to travel over the rulers, and the dakti stirred, whispering to each other. Even Thedes flexed his claws.
As if nothing had happened, the progenitor said to Shade, “Surely you wish to know more of us. To take your proper place among those who find you beautiful.”
“I was in my proper place before you stole us,” Shade said bitterly.
The progenitor just regarded him in silence. Moon couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or angry or indifferent. Fell only seemed to show emotion under extreme circumstances. But he wondered how long it had been since any living being had told her no.
Then she turned away and paced back toward her nest.
Thedes said, “Return to your flying craft. We have a distance still to travel.”
Shade looked at Moon, startled. Then he turned for the way out. Moon pushed to his feet to follow. His spines twitched involuntarily, but no one tried to stop him.
The interior was confusing without a guide, but they managed to make their way up through the dark maze to the entrance. Dakti clung to the walls and ceilings, watching them with glittering eyes, chittering to each other. A kethel in groundling form stood near the ladder, grinning at them. Shade hissed at it and it backed away enough that they could scramble up and out.
There was movement everywhere as they fled back to the boat, as if all the Fell inside the sac were aware of them. The shadows seemed full of motion, and Moon looked up, trying to see where it came from. The sun had changed angles, and the dark outline of one of the kethel outside was visible through the gelatinous material of the sac, its wings moving rhythmically.
They landed on the deck of the boat, and an instant later Floret and Saffron burst up out of the belowdecks hatch. Moon hissed in relief and made a sharp gesture for them to get below again. At least the Fell hadn’t attacked the others on the boat.
As the warriors retreated, Shade said in a choked voice, “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Moon tried to think of a way to say thank you and everything seemed inadequate. He felt like he had failed Shade badly, that he should have prevented it from happening, thought of something to say to stop it. “We got out alive because of you.”
Shade’s spines flattened in distress. “Did they really think... doing that would make me one of them—” Then he started and hissed, “Kethel!”
Moon sensed movement behind him an instant later but he was already diving for the hatch with Shade. They scrambled down the steps, with Floret and Saffron just ahead, as the kethel landed on the deck and the ship rocked and creaked under its weight. At the bottom of the stairs, Moon stopped, braced for an attack.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the kethel moved around and settled on the deck, making the ship list a little to one side. Moon listened, but all he could hear was deep breathing.
“Guarding us?” Floret whispered.
Moon nodded, and eased away from the stairs. Shade reached up and slid the hatch closed. The light wood wouldn’t even slow the kethel down, but Moon didn’t tell him not to bother. That useless barrier between them and the creature was better than nothing.
Floret looked from Moon to Shade and asked, “You’re all right? They didn’t—”
“We’re fine.” Moon cut the question off quickly.
Shade shook his ruffled spines out. “Something happened in there. I mean, something other than—When the progenitor star
ted to say how the guide knew about Opal Night, and they all went still, it was like something else came into the room. But I couldn’t see it. Did you notice that?”
“I saw them all listening to something we couldn’t hear.” If the Fell’s mysterious guide was something that could hide itself from sight, then they were even worse off than they had been before, if that was possible.
Saffron said, “Your warrior is claiming to hear things.”
Floret said in exasperation, “I told you, he used to be a mentor. He’s different.” She explained to Moon, “Chime heard something, like he did in the leviathan city.”
They stepped into the main cabin, and Moon found Lithe and Chime sitting on the floor. She stared into Chime’s eyes, and there was an odd stillness in his body. She must be looking into his mind to check for Fell influence.
Then Lithe leaned back and Chime blinked, a little disoriented as she released him. It was a sensation Moon was familiar with from when Flower had done this to him. She said, “I don’t see anything in there.”
Moon almost snorted with laughter, then realized he was a little hysterical. He sat down on the floor and shifted to groundling so he could bury his face in his hands for a moment.
When he looked up, everyone was staring worriedly at him. Chime sat in front of him, and Shade had shifted to groundling and crouched protectively at his side. Chime leaned in for a close look at Moon’s face. He asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Moon shook his head. “No. Lithe, you need to look into both of us too.”
“But they didn’t—” Shade stopped, frustrated. “If they did, we wouldn’t remember it, would we?”
They both sat while Lithe checked them for Fell influence. Lithe did Shade first, and after a long moment pronounced him free of any interference. Shade sighed in relief, and Moon felt the sick tightness in his chest ease. If the Fell hadn’t done it to Shade, then they hadn’t done it to Moon either. But he still wanted Lithe to check him, to make certain the others knew he wasn’t compromised.