The Books of the Raksura: The Complete Raksura Series

  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 clo
ser 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 body 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.

  The ruler said easily, “How unusual, to see a consort outside a court, only one young queen for protection. So vulnerable.” He was speaking in Kedaic, the way Fell always spoke the language of their prey.

  Moon showed his fangs. This close, more sheltered from the wind, the Fell stench was thick. “Free the groundling and you can have me,” he said, not that he thought it would work. Presumably the ruler would realize that Moon hadn’t chased him through the city because he was reluctant to fight.

  Celadon’s spines rattled in threat. She said, “Take us both.”

  “Perhaps later.” The ruler laughed.

  Behind them, Ennia said, “Free the boy, and we will not pursue you. Or you can have trade goods, precious metal. You know how wealthy we are—”

  The ruler ignored her. He said to Moon, “You must not be a particularly valued consort, for a queen to use you as bait.”

  Celadon hissed, but Moon had heard it too often to be bothered anymore. He made himself look away from the boy, whose gray skin was going white from shock, and focus on the ruler. Moon said, “You had the groundlings fooled until you ran. Your flight will be disappointed. You could have handed this city to them, and instead you’re going to die in it.”

  “I told the groundlings nothing but the truth. They have nothing to fear from me.” Fell never admitted to lies, almost as if they thought truth was whatever they said it was; arguing with one about what was true and what wasn’t was as pointless as talking to a well. “And perhaps I have accomplished everything exactly as planned. I am Ivades. What court are you from?”

  Celadon flicked a glance at Moon, and answered, “What does it matter to you?”

  He’s young, Moon thought suddenly. The question had been too direct, not subtle enough. Young and curious and overconfident, bored with pretending to be a trader among people who had never heard of Fell before and were easy prey. If this flight came from the east, maybe this ruler’s never been this close to a Raksura before, let alone a consort. Surely they could use that, somehow.

  Then Ivades said, “Is it perhaps Opal Night?”

  Moon went still. Celadon snarled, “How did you know that?”

  Ivades’ tail lashed in amusement.

  Putting contempt into his voice, Moon told Celadon, “It’s nothing. The groundlings told him about us.”

  That had the desired effect. Ivades answered, “We know much about the machinations of the Raksura.” It looked from Celadon to Moon with that unnerving intensity, then its gaze settled on Moon. It was probably trying to affect Moon’s thoughts somehow, the way it could affect a groundling’s, but Moon didn’t feel anything. “We know Opal Night has more in common with us than it will admit.”

  Moon had heard this before, and Ivades was nowhere near as frightening as Ranea. “I know—Aeriat Raksura and Fell were once the same species. Is that what you told the groundlings?”

  Ivades was clearly enjoying this, though wasn’t distracted enough to loosen his grip on the boy’s throat. “But our relationship with Opal Night is closer than that.”

  “It can’t be,” Celadon said.

  “But you have Fell children. You are part of us.”

  Oh, no, Moon thought, his heart sinking. This was worse than just Fell coming to the Reaches. The dead flight couldn’t have shared that memory. The progenitors and rulers had died without knowing that Malachite would keep their crossbreed children. Celadon demanded, “Who told you that? How did you know?”

  Ivades seemed to realize he had said too much. Or perhaps he had said exactly as much as he had meant to. He whipped away, leapt to the top of the railing in a blur of motion, dragging the boy with him.

  The groundlings shouted in dismay. Moon and Celadon lunged forward, but Ivades jumped and flung the boy off the balcony. Both vanished.

  Then two large dark-clawed hands shot up over the railing. One crushed the Fell ruler, the other carefully held the groundling. Moon hissed in relief as he skidded to a halt. St
one must have been under the balcony the whole time, holding on by his foot-claws.

  Moon neatly caught the groundling as Stone released him. The boy was limp but still breathing. Then he backed away as Stone used his now free hand to pull himself up by the balcony railing. Stone leaned forward and slammed the ruler into the paving, once, twice. The third time, the ruler shifted to groundling.

  Stone let go and Celadon pounced to pin the battered body to the ground. Stone shifted to his groundling form and hauled himself over the railing to stand on the balcony. Moon said, “So that’s where you were.”

  Stone dusted his hands. “I expected the damn thing to come out further down.”

  The other Aventerans staggered to their feet, peered out from behind the columns. Moon shifted to groundling so hopefully no one would shoot projectiles at him, and handed off the unconscious boy to the first Aventeran brave enough to come forward.

  He went to where Celadon had Ivades pinned to the floor, and crouched about a pace away. In groundling form, Ivades’ skin was white and smooth, his long dark hair a tangled bloody mess. Moon saw his eyelids twitch. “He’s still alive.”

  Celadon shook the limp body. “Why do you want the crossbreeds?”

  Ivades snarled, but it was weak and breathy. “To eat.”

  Ennia and Havram came forward, staring down at the creature. Ennia’s gray skin was pale, and Havram’s face was a mix of fury and chagrin.

  Celadon put more pressure on Ivades’ neck. “You can eat anywhere in the Three Worlds. How did you know to come here? How did you find out about Opal Night?”

  Ivades made a noise of bitter amusement, choked out dark-colored blood, and died.

  Celadon’s warriors had been perched below the balcony with Stone, waiting for a chance at the Fell. There was some hysteria from the Aventerans when they climbed onto the balcony, but a few sharp words from Ennia calmed them down.