The queen and the older consort looked at each other, apparently came to a decision, and leapt for Moon. He gathered them against his chest and they clung to him, digging their claws in. It wasn’t comfortable, but he could stand it.
He swung back out of the chamber and started to climb down, going as fast as he dared.
“Bad Arbora-thing wouldn’t let us shift,” the queen said resentfully, clinging to his collar flange.
“I know. It’s dead now,” Moon told her. “What are your names?”
She adjusted her hold on him, thought about it, and decided to admit, “I’m Frost. That’s Thorn, and Bitter.”
His face buried against Moon’s chest, Thorn said, “Is she dead?” Bitter, tucked up near Moon’s armpit, shivered. There was no mistaking who he meant.
“I don’t know,” Moon said, figuring in their situation honesty was better no matter how grim. “I hope so.”
Thorn took that in silently. Bitter whispered something inaudible. Apparently translating, Thorn said, “Where’s your queen?”
Frost sniffed at Moon’s neck and reported, “He doesn’t have a queen.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Thorn wanted to know.
“That’s still being debated,” Moon said. He was climbing down out of the smoky haze and toward the scents of dust and rock, and the acrid musk of Dwei. As he looked down now, he could see the shaft ended in a chamber, lit by late afternoon daylight and strewn with drifts of sand. “Now be quiet.”
Unexpectedly, they all obeyed. Moon reached the end of the shaft and hung head down to take a cautious look at the chamber. It was empty, with one passage leading into the dark interior of the hive and another leading out to daylight. Moon could just glimpse a half-demolished wall from the ruin. He just hoped there wasn’t anything out there waiting for them.
Moon dropped to the floor and started for the daylit passage. He had an instant’s warning, a sense of air movement behind him. He should have turned, twisted to the side, but that would have exposed his chest and he had the three fledglings to protect. He flared his spines and bolted forward instead. That was the wrong choice.
Ranea hit him from behind, with a force that flung him forward, nearly to the passage entrance. Moon caught himself on his hands and knees, the fledglings tumbling to the floor. He shouted, “Run!”
Frost grabbed Thorn and Thorn grabbed Bitter, and they shot down the passage toward daylight. Moon twisted around, but Ranea landed on him before he could get to his feet. He let her bowl him backward, tucking his head down and clawing blindly for her face, her eyes, yanking up both feet to rip at her abdomen. She ripped back at him, snarling, and they rolled across the sandy floor. He felt his heel-claw sink past her scales into softer flesh; she screamed and flung him off. He scrambled down the passage, out through the opening, and into bright sunlight and an open court surrounded by broken pillars. He couldn’t see the fledglings but knew they couldn’t be far away. He extended his wings and crouched for a leap, meaning to lead Ranea away.
He felt the grip on his left wing, felt something snap, as she twisted down.
He screamed, more in astonishment then pain. He dropped to the ground, hunching over, feeling bones grind together as the wing bent backward in a way it was never meant to. Then the pain hit, and he felt a pressure grow in his chest. Oh no. She was forcing him to shift. He resisted, digging his claws into his own palms with the effort. Then she twisted at the wing again and pain blotted out conscious thought.
And he was in groundling form, huddled on the ground, looking up at her. Agony came in shuddering waves, like half his body had been ripped away. This time his scream came out as a dry croak. The broken wing bones had transferred to his groundling form as breaks all up and down his left side, arm, collarbone, ribs, shoulder.
Ranea stood over him, dripping blood from claw-rents all over her body. She hissed in bitter amusement, and said, “What do you think your queens would say, if they knew all that I did to their court was for you?”
Through watering eyes, Moon saw the curving wall of the hive behind her, and two shapes dropping down toward them, one gold and one blue. “Ask them,” he gasped.
Ranea turned. Jade and Pearl hit her as one, taking her up off the ground and over Moon’s head, slamming her into a pillar. Pearl got knocked away by the impact but Jade held on as she and Ranea fell to the ground. Jade landed on her back, Ranea atop her. But the Fell queen fought to get away, keening, and he could see Jade’s claws sunk into her back, her throat. Pearl shoved to her feet, strode toward them. She slapped Ranea’s wings aside, planted a foot on her back, and seized her head in both hands. The snap and the noise of ripping flesh was clearly audible.
Moon struggled to stay conscious just long enough to see Jade shove the headless body aside, and stagger to her feet, shaking blood out of her spines and head frills.
That’s finished, he thought, and gave in to the darkness.
Chapter Twenty
Moon knew he was being carried, that they were in the air. He could hear vague snatches of shouts, the roar of fire, the angry buzz of the Dwei. But it was all mercifully far away. Then they were inside somewhere, and he was being lowered to the ground, and the pull on his broken bones snapped him back to painful reality. He rode out the shuddering waves of agony, and bit his lip bloody, trying not to scream. The room swam into focus. He lay on his back in soft sand. Above him was the arch of a golden stone ceiling, the wall just below it painted with a faded tracery of green and blue. Jade leaned over him, her eyes desperate. There was a smear of Ranea’s blood on her forehead, claw rents in her scales. “Moon, I can’t let you shift. Do you understand?”
He understood. He was too weak, and shifting in this state would probably kill him. He wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter, that he was dying anyway, but he remembered that she didn’t know about the fledglings.
“The children?” Taking a breath to talk made his ribs grind together. “The Sky Copper clutch—”
“They’re safe. Pearl has them,” she said. Her hand lifted as if she wanted to touch him, but didn’t dare.
Moon heard running footsteps, then Heart crouched beside him. Merit stood behind her, peering anxiously over her shoulder. Heart put her hands on Moon’s face and he must have tensed, because the pain welled up and took everything away again.
He came back to dizzy consciousness, feeling as if a little time had passed. Jade was still there, sitting beside Heart, saying urgently, “Moon, just relax. She’s trying to put you into a healing sleep.”
Heart shook her head in despair. “I just can’t do it, Jade. He’s older than I am, and very strong, and I don’t think he trusts me. All I can do is try to help with the pain.” Heart pressed her thumb lightly on Moon’s forehead, just above his nose. Warmth spread through his body and Moon felt his muscles unlock. She asked him, “Is that any better?”
“Yes…” He faded out, an inexpressible relief.
After that, everything was a blur. He slipped in and out of consciousness. His mouth was dry and sandy, and the back of his throat was on fire. Someone tried to give him water, but it hurt too much to swallow. He heard movement, footsteps, Aeriat coming and going. He wasn’t certain if Jade was still here.
He heard a fragment of conversation, Chime talking to Heart and Merit about what had happened at the colony. As far as Chime knew, the Arbora and Aeriat imprisoned in the sacs were all reviving, including the fledglings and clutches, but they had been terribly weak and in need of food and clean water. After making certain there were no Fell left behind, Pearl had followed Jade and the others in pursuit of the kethel. She had caught up with Jade at the ruined city, in time to help with the plan to fill the jars with metal-mud, to set the hive on fire, and force the Fell into the open.
Then from somewhere nearby, Moon heard Root say worriedly, “What are they doing? Why are they angry at us?”
“We set their hive on fire, Root. What do you think?” That was Floret, or Coil.
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“They want us to leave?” That was Song.
“They say they’re going to attack if we don’t go. Pearl said—”
“Quiet.” That was Pearl.
But Moon had heard enough. They were taking shelter in the ruin, and the Dwei were trying to drive them off. It must mean the Fell were already gone, killed or scattered when they realized the rulers had vanished and Ranea was dead.
He opened his eyes and saw Chime sitting next to him, in groundling form. Chime leaned over him anxiously. “Moon, you’re awake? Don’t try to move.”
“Don’t…” Don’t leave, he wanted to say, but that was pointless. They had the Arbora and the kids to worry about. He croaked out, “Before you leave, kill me, all right?”
“We’re not leaving, and we’re not killing anybody, except those damn Dwei, if they don’t leave us alone.” Chime looked up, grimacing in frustration. “Heart—”
Moon remembered something else the others didn’t know. “No, I have to tell you—”
“Moon, just rest—”
“Fell crossbreeds,” he managed. “There could be more.” That silenced even Chime. With frequent gasps for air, he repeated what Ranea had said, told them about Janeas leaving with the old progenitor and Venras, that the other mentor-dakti was dead. He knew the others were drawing near to listen, though his vision was beginning to blur and he couldn’t bear to move his head to see who was there. He finished, “And they came to Indigo Cloud for me. The mentordakti knew I’d be there.”
He felt there should be some reaction to that, but he had closed his eyes from the effort of speaking so long, and when he opened them again everyone was gone.
Not quite everyone. Pearl sat near him. Time must have passed again because it was night, and a fire burned nearby, casting half her face in shadow. The night should be cool, but his skin felt as if it was radiating heat.
He rasped out, “Are you going to kill me?” He didn’t think he was asking a lot. He was dying anyway, and they would have to leave soon; the least they could do was not leave him for the Dwei or the desert scavengers.
“It’s a thought.” Pearl turned her head to look down at him. She was in Aeriat form, the light catching the brilliant gold of her spines. “You’ve caused us enough trouble. It’s either kill you or make you pay for it in clutches.”
“Pick one and get it over with.”
She cocked her head. “But it doesn’t occur to you to call out for Jade.”
“There’s no one out there. The others are dead.” Then Moon thought, Wait, where am I?
Pearl frowned, laying the back of her hand against his cheek. “Merit, go and wake Heart.”
That was when Moon gave up trying to talk. Even he could tell that what he was saying didn’t make sense, and it hurt too much to make the effort.
The next time he was really aware of anything, it was daylight again, and he heard Chime shouting, “Stone’s here!”
Good, Moon thought. Stone was practical. I can talk him into killing me.
But the next person to lean over him was Flower. Her hair was tangled and wild, as if she had let Stone carry her in groundling form. She cupped her hands around his face and said, “Moon, it’s all right. Just relax.”
This time when he sank into darkness, it was deep and silent.
Moon dreamed he was swimming in a black sea, too far under, trying to find the surface. Something in the darkness below grabbed his ankle and yanked him down, and the dream-jolt made him twitch awake. Blinking at the dusty ceiling, he took a sharp breath, braced for pain. It came, but not in the overwhelming wave he vividly remembered.
His left arm was bent and strapped across his chest; not moving it the least little bit seemed a very good idea. His shoulder and collarbone alternately throbbed and burned, like hot metal buried beneath his skin, and the ribs on that side stabbed him every time he took a breath. His skin felt dry and too hot. His clothes were soaked with sweat. Carefully, he moved his feet, and bent one leg a little. That was probably a good sign.
“Moon, you’re awake?”
That was Flower, sitting nearby. It was reassuring that he hadn’t imagined her earlier. He wet his lips. “Sort of.” His voice still sounded pitifully weak.
“You’ve been in a healing sleep for the past three days.” Flower laid a cool hand on his forehead. It felt so good he closed his eyes again. Then she said, “We’re getting ready to leave. The flying boats are here.”
He blinked. “Our flying boats?”
“Yes. Niran is steering one, and he showed Blossom how to steer the other.” She brushed the hair back from his forehead. “When Stone woke up and was able to shift, he thought it best to get the court away from the colony as quickly as possible. We loaded everyone onto the two boats, with as much of our supplies as we could salvage. Fortunately the Arbora had already started to get ready to leave before the Fell attacked. Most of the really necessary tools and things were packed in baskets in the lower part of the colony. Stone and I came ahead to see if you all had found the stolen Arbora yet.”
Moon could hear the wind outside, wailing through the hollows of the ruin. “What about the Dwei? I thought they were going to attack us.”
“Stone persuaded them not to,” Flower said, with irony in her voice.
From somewhere behind him, Chime said, “Actually he told them they could leave us alone and we’d be gone in a few days, or he could tear what was left of their hive apart and kill them all.” Chime moved into view, looking around the room. His clothes were dusty and his cheek was smeared with dirt. “Are we ready to go?”
“Very ready,” Flower told him. She pulled a leather pack into her lap, sorting through it. “Is Jade on her way?”
Moon took a deep breath and rolled onto his good arm. His back protested with a stabbing sensation that took his breath away. When the room swam back into focus, he heard Flower say in exasperation, “Moon, what are you doing?”
“I’m sitting up.” Gritting his teeth, he levered himself into a sitting position with his good arm. Oh, that hurts. Bones ground against each other in ways they weren’t meant to, his vision went dark, and his stomach tried to turn. After a moment the wave passed, and he swayed, but managed to stay upright. He let out his breath, careful not to jostle his ribs. It felt odd to be sitting up, and he remembered Flower had said something about three days. The room was bigger than he had thought, with an arched doorway that looked out onto an open court strewn with rubble. The wind stirred the drifted sand up into whirling patterns.
Chime hovered over him anxiously. “Just stay still! Jade will be here any moment.”
That was the point. Moon wanted to prove he could walk to the boats, even if he would need help to get up into one. He just hoped the boats were very, very close.
Then Jade landed in the sandy court with Vine, Floret, and Song. She folded her wings, stopped in the doorway to shake the sand off her scales, then strode into the room. She looked at Moon and demanded, “Why is he sitting up?”
Flower told her pointedly, “Because he’s a bit too delicate at the moment for me to wrestle with.” She pulled a folded drape of fabric out of the pack and handed it to Jade.
“I was going to walk to the boats,” Moon said, feeling as if things were moving too fast for him. He couldn’t see any remnant of the scratches Ranea had left on Jade’s arms and chest.
“Of course you were.” She knelt, shaking out the drape and carefully wrapping it around his shoulders. It was soft, and the scent of sweet herbs was trapped in the folds. “Put your arm around my neck.”
He did, threading it through her spines. She slipped an arm under his legs, gathered him gently against her and stood up. She carried him out to the court, and murmured, “Brace yourself.”
He tightened his hold on her neck and set his jaw. The jolt as she took to the air made him suck in a breath, but the flight was brief, and the light thump as she landed on the deck didn’t hurt. He caught a glimpse of the fan-sails, tightly folded
up against the mast, and a crowd of Arbora milling around on the deck. Claws scraped wood as they hurried to clear a path for Jade. As she carried Moon down the narrow stair below deck, he heard Niran yell instructions about casting off.
She took him into the nearest cabin and carefully put him down on a pallet of silk blankets and cushions. It was wonderfully soft, if not as warm as the sand in the ruin. The ceiling and walls were dark wood, rubbed fine until the grain showed. Glowing moss was stuffed into a clear glass lamp meant to hold a candle, and baskets, the tightly-woven ones used at the colony for storage, were packed in against the walls, taking up much of the space. Jade crouched next to him, arranging the blankets .He said, “You know the Fell came to Indigo Cloud for me.”
Jade shook her head. “Don’t worry about that.”
That wasn’t exactly an answer, and he tried to muster the strength to pursue it, but Flower came into the cabin, telling Jade, “Everyone’s aboard, and they’ve gotten the water casks refilled.” The boat trembled and swayed, and she caught hold of a basket to steady herself.
Jade bared her teeth. “If that was the Dwei, I’m going to tear their—”
Chime ducked into the cabin, dumping an armload of leather packs atop a basket. “That was Stone, trying to land on the boat without knocking the mast down.”
“I need to be up there.” Jade touched Moon’s face. “Rest.”
As if he had a choice. He watched her leave the cabin, taking the stairs up to the deck in one bound. The brief exertion of sitting up and then being carried here had already exhausted him, made him feel as if he was trapped under water again, fighting the weight of the moss nets. He managed to ask, “The boats are going to the new colony?”
“Yes, finally!” Chime waved his hands, excited. “We can’t wait to see it.”
He ducked out of the room and Moon sunk further down into the cushions, muttering, “Good for you.”