The Cloud Roads

Chapter Eight

The flying boat took them up to the highest island, to a building of sun-warmed clay and reed-thatched roofs, made up of dozens of slim towers, balconies, and domed turrets. Moon was too sick to investigate how the boat worked, or enjoy the novel sensation of flying in comfort with something else to do all the work. The craft swung close to the turrets and dropped a gangplank.

Moon followed Chime and Jade as Endell-liani led them down onto the wide circle of the tower’s docking platform. The fresh wind was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Endell-liani told Jade, “This is the palace of the Gerent and the trading guilds. The rooms in this tower are for your use. You are our honored guests.”

As Jade thanked her, Balm, Branch, Root, and Song arrived in a noisy rush, landing on the platform with a clatter of claws against wood. Jade hissed them quiet and spoke to them in Altanic, so Endell-liani could follow the conversation. “Was that the only one?”

Balm shifted to groundling, the others following belatedly. “There was nothing else as far as we could see,” she said, breathless. “The cloud-walker is still heading out to sea, so fast we couldn’t catch up to it.”

“The cloud-walker was just a prisoner,” Jade told her. “The Fell had made a sac on its back, and a ruler was inside. He must have taken control of the cloudwalker’s mind somehow.”

Chime twitched uneasily. “I know the kethel grow sacs like that so they can carry dakti more easily. I didn’t know rulers would get inside one.”

“They’re getting inventive.” Jade’s spines relaxed as the tension went out of her shoulders. “Hopefully they only caught one cloud-walker.”

“One would have been enough,” Chime pointed out. “It could have destroyed this place.”

Branch held up the ruler’s head. The jaws hung open, and one eye was torn out. “What should we do with this?”

Moon tried to croak out an answer, but Jade turned to Endell-liani, asking her, “Do you know about the Fell rulers? The head has to be—”

“Yes, we know.” Endell-liani turned back to the flying ship and waved imperatively at someone onboard. “It should be placed in a cask of salt and buried on land.”

Moon didn’t need to hear anymore; the cask of salt wasn’t necessary, but the head did need to be concealed under a layer of earth, otherwise it would draw more rulers.

The wooden door into the tower stood open, and he went inside. A short passage led to a big round room with high windows that let in light and air, the walls and floor rubbed smooth with white clay. He staggered through the first inner doorway, then the second, until he found a room with big water jars and tile basins and drains. He dropped to his knees beside a basin and retched into it.

“Are you all right?” Chime asked from a safe distance behind him. “We didn’t see where you fell at first, and we kept expecting you to come back up.”

“Thanks,” Moon managed to croak. Aside from having half the Yellow Sea and all its plant life in his stomach, he was fine.

When he finished, he felt hollowed out, and it hurt to take a deep breath. His clothes dripped and he still had strands of moss wrapped around him. He had no idea where his pack had ended up.

He wandered out the nearest door and found a small, open court, its smooth white clay reflecting the sun. Most groundlings would have found it too hot for comfort; it was probably meant more to allow light and air into the windows and doorways of the rooms around it. A few chairs of light, delicately carved, ivory-colored wood were scattered about, along with a couch draped with gauzy white fabric. Moon peeled his wet shirt off and collapsed on the couch, stretching out face down and pillowing his head on his arms. It was Islander-sized and too short for him, his feet hanging off the end, but it was far more comfortable than the floor.

He heard Jade and Chime come out into the court. One of them, he wasn’t sure which, brushed the hair off his temple, then laid a cool hand on his back to feel his breathing. He made an “umph” noise to show he was still alive. Chime said, “Better to let him sleep.”

They left. Moon lay there and listened to the others talk and move in and out of the court and the rooms around it. The baking sun lulled him into a half-drowse.

Sometime later he heard unfamiliar footsteps and smelled groundling tinged with salt and sun and sweet oil, the scent he was learning to associate with the Islanders. He turned his head, squinting. The sun had moved enough for shade to fall across half the court, and an old Islander man stood in it, watching Moon. His hair, beard, and mustache were as silky white as gossamer, a startling contrast against his weathered gold skin. He held a large book with wooden covers.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, as if this were the middle of a conversation they had been having. He stepped closer and crouched down to set the book on the paving. He flipped it open and paged through it. Moon pushed himself up a little more and leaned over to see. He had slept long enough for his clothes to dry, for the sun to bake most of the sickness out of him.

The paper was white, some kind of pounded reed, and it was filled with squiggly writing in different hands and inks, in a language with curving characters that Moon couldn’t read. The old man found the page he wanted and turned the book so Moon could see.

It was a sketch, an Aeriat in his shifted form, wings and spines flared. Scribbled notes trailed down the page. The old man tapped it. “This is correct? This is a young consort, like you?”

Moon touched the page. The sketch didn’t indicate what color the scales were, unless it was in the notes. But he thought the spines went further down the back than a warrior’s, that the wings were proportionally larger.

“If—” His voice came out as a croak and he had to clear his throat. “— the scales are black, yes.” His throat was dry and sore. He would have to go in search of water soon, but he didn’t want to drag himself up yet.

“I’ve seen the old consort who came here, but only from a distance. He spoke only to some traders and the Gerent.” He opened a wooden case that hung at his belt and took out some loose sheets of paper and a writing instrument that appeared to be a charcoal stick in an ivory holder. He peered closely at Moon; his golden eyes were a little filmy. “Always black?”

“I think so.” It occurred to Moon that he really should know these things. He turned the page, where he found a sketch of a male warrior balanced on the piling of a pier.

The man smoothed the paper on the clay floor. “You don’t grow a beard?”

“Lots of groundling races don’t,” Moon said, before he remembered he didn’t have to justify it. These people already knew he was different. Nobody was going to ask those questions that had once been impossible to answer, like, What are your people called? and Where do you come from? The old man grunted thoughtfully and scribbled a note.

Chime walked into the court. He stood next to the couch, directing a puzzled frown down at the old man. In Raksuran, he said, “Their leader is here, talking to Jade.”

“He came here?” That was a little surprising. Moon had assumed the negotiation would take place in some council room somewhere in the palace below them. Maybe it was a good sign.

“They’re being polite.” Chime stepped sideways, angling his head, trying to read over the old man’s shoulder. “They knew Jade didn’t want to leave you.”

That was more surprising. “Me? Why?”

Chime’s expression suggested that the question could be more idiotic, but he wasn’t sure how. “You’re her consort. Everyone realizes that but you.”

Not having spines that he could flare threateningly at Chime at the moment, Moon settled for ignoring him. He leaned over the book again and turned more pages. Towards the back was a drawing of Stone in his shifted form, but it was from a distance, with the roof of a tower to give perspective. That was the last drawing, and Moon turned back to the front, finding older sketches of female warriors and Arbora. He paused at a more detailed drawing of a queen curled up on a broad windowsill, so unexpectedly sensual it made him blink. He switched back to Altanic to ask the old man, “Is this whole book about Raksura?”

“Yes. It goes back several generations, copied from older documents.” The old man turned the pages back to the beginning, where the ink was a little faded. “It begins with the first sighting of Raksura by an expedition to the interior.”

In exasperation, Chime pointed down at the old man. “Who is this?”

“I don’t know.” Preoccupied, Moon studied the drawing. It was blocky and not as skilled as the later sketches, showing a flying boat with little winged figures around it.

“This wasn’t done at the time.” The man sniffed disparagingly. “Inaccurate.”

Chime sat down and leaned in to look at the scene. “How do you know it’s inaccurate?”

“It doesn’t match the account of the starguider Kilen-vanyi-atar, who wrote of meeting the Raksura, and treating with their court.” The man traced his finger over the writing, found a passage, and read, “‘As our craft sailed over the clearing, we saw an outcrop of stone, and on it, lying full in the fierce sunlight, were eight or so people. My first fear was that they were dead, but they lay more in the attitude of sleep, and showed no wounds. Their clothing was as bright as the plumage of birds.’” He looked up. “He goes on to say that they woke as the ship drew closer, transformed, and flew swiftly away. It took some time for him to convince one to speak to him, let alone to come near his ship.”

Moon thought that if the boat could get so close without waking them, then the whole group was lucky not to have been eaten by something before the Islanders happened along. “They were probably humiliated at being caught in the open.”

Chime turned his head to study the drawing, saying absently, “They sound almost as twitchy as you.”

Moon thought Chime needed to visit a lake bottom again, and made a mental note to arrange that as soon as possible.

The old man squinted at Chime. “You are a warrior?”

“No,” Chime said. Moon cocked an eyebrow at him, and Chime gave him a thin-lipped glare. “Well, yes,” Chime told the old man grudgingly.

“There are differences between you?”

“He’s moody,” Chime offered, leaning over to frown at the writing. “More than anyone I know, actually.”

Trying to page to the back of the book to see if there were any more drawings of queens, Moon snorted derisively. “Meeting the people you know would make anybody moody.” Then he heard voices from the other room, and a small commotion of footsteps. He rolled onto his side in time to see Jade, Balm, Endell-liani, and several other Islanders come through the nearest doorway. A young Islander man pushed past Endell-liani to burst into the court, only to stop abruptly. He stared at Moon’s old man, and said, nonplussed, “Grandfather.”

“I’m busy,” Grandfather said, still writing.

Endell-liani gave the young man a look of marked disapproval. “Niran, I told you everything would be well.”

The other Islanders stood there awkwardly. Moon picked out the one that must be the leader: an older man, polished stone beads braided into his straight white hair, wearing a robe dyed a rich blue. The leader turned to Jade and said, “My apologies for Niran’s impulsiveness.”

Niran looked uncertain, but not particularly guilty. It was obvious that Grandfather had heard there was a consort here and slipped away from the Gerent’s party in search of him. Apparently, finding him missing, Niran had come to the conclusion that he had been eaten.

Jade’s expression was ironic. “There is no need for you to apologize.”

It was a deliberate hint. Niran must have been less than tactful in his search, and Jade couldn’t let the insult go by. Moon approved; he was a rank amateur at Raksuran relations with groundlings, but it had to be made clear that the implication that any of them would even consider hurting a harmless elder was a serious insult. Everybody looked expectantly at Niran, who said, stiffly, “I apologize.”

The Gerent gave him a long look, then turned back to Jade. He inclined his head to her. “You are gracious. Please, let us continue our talk.”

Jade resettled her wings and led the way back inside. The Islanders followed her, with only Niran and Endell-liani remaining. Niran hesitated, saying, “Grandfather, you should leave them alone.”

Grandfather fixed a sharp gaze on Moon. “Do you want to be left alone?”

“No,” Moon said, too caught by surprise to lie. The question had more weight than Grandfather realized.

The sharp gaze was transferred to Niran. “Now go home. I’ll come when I’m finished here.”

Niran lingered, frustrated, but Endell-liani took his arm, tugging him away, and finally he went with her. Chime watched them go, frowning. “That’s not a good sign.”

Moon shrugged. Niran had a right to be cautious, but this would teach him to be subtle about it next time. Moon asked Grandfather, “Will you read this book to us?”

“Yes.” Grandfather tugged it away from Chime. “I will read you Kilen-vanyiatar’s observations.”

With the negotiations going on in the inner room, they settled in for a long wait. When Moon tried to drag himself up to go in search of water, Chime refused to let him. Chime found Root in the next room and sent him to get water and tea, then sent him back after that for cushions and a chair for Grandfather, whose name turned out to be Delin-Evran-lindel. Apparently the more names you had, the higher your rank, and Delin was an important scholar.

The book was fascinating. It told the history of all the interactions the Islanders had ever had with Raksura, and legends about them collected from other races. “This scholar actually spoke to the Ghobin?” Chime asked at one point, incredulous and impressed. “How? And more importantly, why?”

“Venar-Inram-Alil was a very determined man,” Delin admitted. “Also something of an ass.”

“Did they kill him?” Moon asked. He had never seen the Ghobin before, but they were a persistent threat in the forested hills much further inland. They lived underground, tunneling under other species’ dwellings to attack them, or stealing their young as food.

Delin turned the page with decision. “Eventually.”

Some of the information collected in the book was wrong, which Chime pointed out immediately. Delin made careful corrections. There were also myths and fragments of the Islanders’ own lore, stories about where their flying islands had come from and how they had been made. Moon found it all interesting. Balm stayed with Jade, but Branch and Song drifted in to listen, with Root wandering in and out, pretending to be bored.

After the request for tea, the Islanders sent in food, and after a while Moon felt like eating again. They provided fish, roasted whole or baked in clay pots with spices, yellow squash-like things that grew in the water-garden plots below the islands, and raw yellow clams and shellfish from the sea bottom. The others balked at the cooked fish, which just left more for Moon. The Islanders sent wine as well, but Moon preferred the delicate green and yellow teas. Fermented or distilled liquids had never had much effect on him, and it was interesting to see it was the same with the other Raksura.

Late in the afternoon, Delin found a story in the book that said Raksura could be captured by a ring of jien powder. Since there happened to be some available in the palace larder, Chime insisted they make the experiment. Moon thought it unlikely; jien was a popular spice in the east, and since it was often sprinkled on top of pastries and dumplings, he had gotten it on himself on many occasions. It had never had any ill effect on him, if he didn’t count sneezing, but saying so would have ruined the fun. The others picked Root to experiment on, but apparently convinced this was a trick, he retreated to sulk in a doorway. They finally tried it on Song, who stepped in and out of the circle of spice with no difficulty, saying, “I think we’re doing it wrong.”

Branch and Root got a little rowdy afterward, teasing that threatened to escalate into a fight. After the Niran incident, two young warriors in a loud and violent play-fight would be the last thing Jade needed. Moon said, “Branch. Root,” and then stared at them, communicating that if he had to get up off his couch, someone was going to get hurt.

They both subsided; Branch looked guilty.

Moon remembered thinking that Branch might be trouble, and knew he had been wrong. Branch was good-natured and quiet. Root was loud and annoying because he was young. Song was sweet and fierce, and shoved both bigger males around like a miniature queen.

Moon reminded himself that this was just a temporary place for him. If he wanted to stay with Indigo Cloud, he would have to keep defying Pearl, and sooner or later that would throw the whole court into chaos. From what he could tell, the court couldn’t stand any more chaos. But it was seductive, this easy comradeship. It might be easy, but it wasn’t uncomplicated.

The day wore on toward evening, and the shadows grew deep enough that Chime went to light the bronze oil lamps that hung around the court. Not long after that, Moon had to tell the others that groundlings didn’t get stronger as they got older, and that Delin needed rest. Delin claimed that he was well able to continue as long as they wanted, then fell asleep in his chair.

Chime sat at Delin’s feet, paging through the book, while the others talked or curled up to nap. Moon just enjoyed the quiet.

Then Song said, “Moon, is it true you don’t know what court you came from? That you were alone until Stone found you?”

Moon lay on his back,watching the sky turn orange and violet with sunset. “I wasn’t alone. I lived with groundlings, off and on.”

Root stirred. “What was that like?”

Moon hesitated. He had no idea what to say. When I was too small to live in the forest without getting eaten, I went to a groundling town. It was terrifying. Or I had to teach myself their languages. I picked through garbage for food. I didn’t know how to fit in, what to do. That wasn’t the whole truth, though. I loved living with the Hassi, but the Fell came. I had friends, but I always had to leave them, before anyone found out.

Branch snorted, and from the sound, gave Root a shove to the head. “Idiot. Can you think of a harder question?”

“What?” Root demanded.

“What’s the wind like?” Chime said dryly.

“You mean, right now, or—” Root subsided, disgruntled. “All right, all right, I see.”

Balm walked into the court. One look at her expression, discouraged and angry, told Moon all he needed to know even before she spoke. “They said no.” She sat down on a chair, burying her face in her hands.

Chime stared. “What, just like that?”

“No, not just like that. That’s what we’ve been arguing about all day.” Balm rubbed her eyes. “If they do it, they think the Fell would take more cloud-walkers captive and send them out here. Or the boats will be destroyed along the way, when the Fell attack us.”

They could still move the court, but flying in stages or going on foot would take longer and leave them open to more Fell attacks. Moon hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he had counted on this trip being successful.

“What are we going to do?” Root asked uneasily.

“Go back,” Branch said. He sighed. “Think of something else. Or do it the hard way.”

Song got up, took Balm’s wrist and tugged her to her feet. “Come and get something to eat.”

Branch and Root trailed after her. Chime and Moon sat there for a moment in silence. Then Chime stood. Sounding resigned, he said, “I’m going in to light the lamps. I can’t think when it’s dark.”

Moon nodded. As Chime went inside, Moon got up to look for his shirt and found that someone had rinsed out the saltwater and moss and left it draped over a chair to dry. He pulled it on and went back to sit on the couch, depressed. He had counted on this working, counted on the court being able to move relatively quickly, so he would be free to leave them and the Fell and his own confusion behind.

A blue Arbora walked into the court. Moon stared, then realized it was Jade. This was the first time he had seen her other form. She was still tall and slim, and her scales had the same blue and gray pattern, but they looked softer, closer to groundling skin than Raksuran hide, though that might have been a trick of the shadow. Her wings were gone and her mane was smaller, not reaching much past her shoulders, and was more soft frills than spines. She hesitated, then said glumly, “I suppose Balm told you.”

He nodded, uncomfortable. “You did all you could. They still might not have agreed, even without the Fell.”

“I know.” She came over to sit on the end of the couch, adding with rueful sarcasm, “I pointed out that if we hadn’t been here when the Fell attacked, the damage would have been much worse. But I think they saw the flaw in my logic.”

Moon looked away, a wry twist to his mouth. “It’s just a little flaw.” He hesitated, absently rubbed at a spot on the cushion. “I wanted to thank you for pulling me out of the sea.”

He had meant it to be friendly, but Jade’s whole body stiffened. “I would have done it for any member of the court.”

Well, fine, Moon thought. He had been hoping for an actual conversation; he wasn’t even sure why. But he needed to make sure of one more thing. “Did she ask for anything? The Islander woman who helped us.” If Jade hadn’t followed through on that promise, Moon needed to find the woman and make good on it—and hope she didn’t ask for anything complicated so that he could fulfill the obligation before they had to leave.

But Jade said, “She didn’t ask, so I gave her one of the pearls, a small one. Endell-liani said it was enough for her to buy her own garden mats, and a new house for her family. I gave another one to the master of the flying boat, to sell and divide among the crew.”

So that was taken care of. Moon should just shut up now, but he said, “That was generous.”

Jade gave him a look he couldn’t read. “You’re a consort.”

If they were going to have a fight, they might as well get on with it. He said, tightly, “I’m a feral solitary with a bad bloodline.”

“Pearl said that, I didn’t. I—” She seemed to steel herself. “Would be honored to take you as consort, except, apparently, I have no idea how.”

Nonplussed, Moon stared at her. “Uh.”

Jade shook her head in frustration. “I know in theory. I tried the gifts; that’s what all the traditions say to do, but they didn’t say what to do if you didn’t accept them.” She waved her hands helplessly. “Look, even now, look what you’re doing—”

Moon realized he had been unconsciously edging down the couch away from her. “I don’t—” He knew he owed her an explanation, but it was hard to put his instinctive response into words. “The way I’ve lived, it’s not a good idea to accept gifts. In a strange situation, you don’t know what it’s obligating you to do. Especially anything relating to—” He discarded several different words and finally settled on, “—mating.”

Jade absorbed that in silence. Finally she said, “I know I should have waited. Stone told me that you’d never even heard of Raksura before he found you.” She sighed. “In a strong court, there would be clutches of consorts and sister queens, and we would all have been raised together. I’d know which one I wanted, and if he’d accept me. And I’d know what to do, even if I had to fight the other queens for him. And at least I’d have someone to go to for advice.” She shook her head, exasperated. “I haven’t been able to talk to Pearl about anything, for turns and turns.” With rueful resignation, she added, “Stone said I should just take you, fight it out, and get it over with.”

That was typical. “He gives me lousy advice, too.”

“Stone feels responsible. We lost too many warriors and consorts in the fighting, when the Gathen tried to take our territory, then the Sardis attacked the Sky Copper Court and we went to defend them. The consorts that were left... I was just a child, and Pearl didn’t want them because they had all belonged to Amber, so they went to other courts. Flower said things happened so gradually— sickness and dead clutches, and one thing going wrong after another, and they were so busy worrying about the latest disaster—that no one looked at the whole. Stone had left the court by that point, flying off alone, exploring. He didn’t come back until Rain, Pearl’s last consort, died, and after that, it was too late.” She looked at Moon for a long moment. “I know I haven’t made it sound particularly inviting, but... Do you want to join Indigo Cloud?”

Moon shrugged uneasily, reluctant to speak. But he thought she had been honest with him, and it seemed wrong not to be honest in return. “I don’t think I can fit in.” There were those words again. It would be a good day if he never had to hear or say them again.

“You’d rather live with groundlings?” she asked, then than added quickly, “Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s just... unusual.”

“I want to live where I don’t have to hide.” That was about all the honesty Moon could take for the moment. “And does it matter what I want? Pearl ordered me to leave.”

With an edge to her voice, Jade said, “And you refused.”

“I told Stone I’d stay until after the court moved.” Moon let his breath out.

They could talk about this all night, and it wouldn’t change anything. “If I can make it that long. The warriors aren’t going to just let me ignore her, and I can’t fight all of them.”

Jade growled low in her throat. He didn’t think it was directed at him, but it sent a weird tingle up his spine.

It also woke Delin, who sat up, blinking uncertainly. He looked around for his book and found it where Chime had left it, tucked under the cushion at his feet.

Glad for the interruption, Moon said, “Sorry we woke you.”

Delin cleared his throat. “I wasn’t asleep, only resting. Your voices are pleasant to listen to.”

Moon hadn’t had a chance to observe much about Islander manners, but he already knew Delin was no stickler for formality. Settling for a simple introduction, he said, “Jade, this is Delin-Evran-lindel.”

Delin nodded formally to her. “Was your business with the Gerent successful?”

“Not really.” Jade poked at the couch cushion with one claw, looking oddly young.

Moon explained, “They wouldn’t agree to trade us the use of the flying boats.”

Delin rested the book on his lap. “Why do you need wind-ships when you have wings of your own?”

“We don’t all have wings,” Moon told him. “We need a way to move the Arbora, before the Fell attack the colony.”

Jade stirred, but didn’t protest. Moon doubted their purpose here was a secret to anyone; the Fell had made sure of that.

Delin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “The Gerent is not the only one who owns wind-ships.”

Jade lifted her head, frowning at him. “He and Endell-liani said that all the ships were controlled by the trading guilds.”

“Not all. Only the primary cargo vessels. There are many families who own ships for the purpose of exploration, or trade in small luxury goods.” Delin glanced toward the lamplit doorway. “We should speak to my daughter. But it would be better if those in the palace did not see us go.”

That was one problem Moon could solve. He said, “We can do that.”

It was full dark by then, so after a quick scout around the rooms to find an unobserved window, Moon, Jade, and Delin set out for his home. Chime saw them off with a hissed, “Be careful. And don’t drop him.” At least he had said it in Raksuran.

Delin’s family home was on one of the smaller islands that floated a few hundred paces above the water. Lamplight shone from the windows of towers and lit little courts and gardens. Moon carried Delin and kept his pace to a slow glide, hoping to keep the old man from getting sick. But Delin was well accustomed to travel on flying boats and he seemed to enjoy it. He tapped Moon on the chest, pointing toward a balcony on a large tower on the narrow end of the island. Moon glided down toward it, Jade barely a beat behind him.

Jade had left Balm to guard the entrance to their rooms and to cover their absence. If the Gerent or anyone else asked for Jade, Balm would say that she was with her consort and couldn’t be disturbed. If someone asked for Delin, she would say that he and Chime were consulting over Delin’s book, and anxious to finish before Delin left for the evening. Everyone else had been ordered to stay out of sight and keep their mouths shut.

The balcony was dimly lit by a lamp inside the room, half-shielded by the white curtains across the doorway. The space was also just wide enough for Moon to land without fouling a wing. He saw why Delin had picked this balcony; it faced out toward the sea, away from any docks or the windows of near neighbors. He managed the landing, then set Delin on his feet and shifted to give Jade room. Jade lit neatly on the railing, folded her wings, and stepped down onto the balcony.

A young woman pulled the curtain aside, then jerked back with a startled yelp.

“Quiet!” Delin hushed her hurriedly. “It’s me.”

She hesitated uncertainly, staring. “Grandfather?”

Delin waved an imperative hand. “These are my guests. Now go find your mother.”

The room just inside the balcony was Delin’s study. It was smaller than their rooms in the palace, and the cushions and hangings had faded from the sun. Books and unbound rolls of paper crammed the shelves, as well as trade pottery and carvings from far away in the Three Worlds. Moon recognized figured blackware from Kish, a delicately enameled vase from Cient, polished shells that might be from a sea kingdom. Delin’s entire family seemed to be here, the adults sitting on the floor mats to listen to Jade, and the adolescents and younger children hanging back in the doorways, watching curiously.

Jade sat in front of the balcony door, with Moon a little behind her. It still made him deeply uncomfortable that these people knew what he was; he knew it didn’t make sense, it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. It hadn’t bothered him with Delin, but then Delin was unusual for a groundling.

Jade explained their request plainly, leaving out only the fact that Pearl might be treating with the Fell. Moon couldn’t fault her for omitting it. He wasn’t sure how much Jade knew, past vague suspicions, and she seemed reluctant to believe even those. And after hearing it, the Islanders would have to be crazy to agree to this.

As it was, it was hard to tell what they thought of the proposal. Delin’s eldest daughter, Elen-danar, was the head of the family, an older woman who bore some resemblance to him in the quick intelligence in her golden eyes. She asked careful questions, and seemed hesitant but willing to listen. Niran, unsurprisingly, was obviously against it.

“You brought them here?” he said, too horrified to dissemble, when Delin led them into the room. The other adults had been obviously embarrassed by his reaction and anxious to make up for it, so Moon thought it might have done them more good than harm.

Elen-danar tapped her fingers on the clay floor, frowning in thought. “With so many aboard, there would be little room for food or water. We usually bring large stores so we don’t have to land in dangerous country.”

“You wouldn’t have to land,” Moon put in. He felt he had to say something before anyone decided to interpret his silence as guilt or deception. “The warriors could refill the water containers and bring food to the ships.”

“That would let the ships travel much faster,” one of the younger men said. “If we don’t have to stop at all—”

“We could supply you for the trip back as well,” Jade added.

“But what would the Gerent and the trade council say?” Niran said, exasperated. “They’ve already decided this is too dangerous.”

“We are not in the trade council. They don’t speak for us,” Delin said firmly. There was a murmur of agreement from a few of the others.

Still thoughtful, Elen-danar said, “I think you’ve told us all we need to know. We’ll have to discuss it among ourselves.”

Jade inclined her head, accepting the answer. “We will leave your islands tomorrow. If you decide in our favor, send someone to us in the morning.” She opened the fold of leather, spilling out seven of the large pearls. “If you decide against us, send someone to return these.”

As they flew back up to the palace towers, Moon saw activity on the platform docks directly below the structure. A small flying boat, lanterns hanging from its prow and stern, was coming in to dock. A dozen or so Islanders cast lines to haul it in. Occupied as the men were, Moon didn’t think they had been seen, but Jade’s colors did catch the light.

They both landed on the roof above the inner open court. Moon crouched, listening for a moment. The lamps in the court had been put out, though light shone from the doorways, and he heard Chime’s voice, and Song’s. He nodded to Jade, then leapt down onto the court below.

Jade landed beside him and folded her wings, shaking her frills back into place. “What do you think the chances are?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Moon shifted to groundling. “It was hard to tell.” He thought it depended on who had the most influence in the family, who marshaled the best arguments. Delin was obviously for them, Niran against, but it was impossible to tell about the others. “It could go either way.”

She folded her arms, twitching her spines in frustration. “Stone thinks it’s our only chance. Flower said he never wanted the court to move to this colony in the first place.”

Moon hesitated to ask, but Stone was such an enigma that he couldn’t pass up the chance. “Is that why he left the court for so long? He didn’t like the colony?”

Jade shook her head. “No, he left because his queen died. Her name was Azure. I don’t remember her. It was before I was born.” Her shoulders tensed, and he saw her claws flex against her scales. Not looking at him, she said abruptly, “I know you want to leave the court. I would ask you, that if you do... you would consider leaving me with a clutch.”

Moon went still. It should have been a terrible idea. But the first thing that flashed through his mind was to wonder if he could make it a condition that he keep one of the babies—or two. It would have to be two, to keep each other company. But he couldn’t raise them alone, and the moment of wild hope was abruptly over. He thought, Don’t be stupid. Even if it were possible, raising two fledglings outside a court would just brand them as solitaries, to live alone or try to beg their way into a colony.

No, it was impossible. His heart sank and he wondered if this was what Sorrow had felt, this need to have companionship so intense it made you willing to do anything. Almost anything. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.

But leaving a clutch behind to be raised in Indigo Cloud wasn’t a much better prospect. The court would eventually manage to negotiate for more consorts, and Moon’s clutch would become less important. If anything happened to Jade, the clutch would be left to Pearl’s mercy.

It clarified the situation completely, to realize that he didn’t want to father any children unless he could be there to kill anything that threatened them.

He could try to explain that to Jade, but after what had happened the last time he had refused a request for a baby... “I’ll think about it,” he finished, and knew he sounded guilty.

“No, you don’t have to answer—” Jade began, then abruptly cut herself off.

There was a new voice from inside. Listening hard, Moon realized it was Endell-liani. That’s not a coincidence. He whispered, “They saw us.”

Jade hissed in annoyance. “Let’s hope they saw us on the way back.” She caught his wrist and pulled him along, across the court and through the doorway.

All the others were there: Balm and Chime stood in the inner doorway with Endell-liani as if they had just stepped in, Song and Branch sat on the floor cushions, Root was in his Raksuran form, hanging from the ceiling. He saw them, dropped to the floor, and shifted back to groundling; he left huge gouges in the clay ceiling.

Endell-liani didn’t look startled to see them. She said, “I’m sorry to disturb you. The sentry on the docking platform thought he saw something in the air, and I wanted to make certain it was one of you.”

“Yes, we, ah, felt the urge to fly.” Jade smiled, careful not to show her teeth. “We’re newly mated.”

Moon didn’t have to fake looking flustered. He tugged his wrist free and went over to sit on a bench. Jade’s remark had been calculated to cut off any further request for explanation. With some groundling races the ploy wouldn’t have worked but, for the Islanders, it was evidently perfect. Endell-liani apologized again, already backing out of the room. Balm threw a startled look at Jade, and then followed Endell-liani out.

The others were quiet, and Moon realized they were staring at him. Chime craned his neck, making sure Endell-liani was out of earshot. Then he turned hopefully to Moon. “Did you really?”

Jade flared her spines, and Moon fled the room.

Moon climbed out a window and went up to sit on the roof. He watched the clouds travel across the night sky and the endless motion of the sea. The wind was turning cool, and the reed roof didn’t hold the day’s heat. When he heard the others settling down to sleep, he gave in to impulse and climbed back down the wall to go inside.

They had put all the lamps out, but he could see only one sleeping body in the room off the court, in a nest made up of floor cushions. Moon heard the others, and thought it was Branch on guard in the passage to the dock platform, while everyone else was in the next room.

Chime sat up and said, “Here.”

Moon hesitated. Chime should be with the other warriors and Moon shouldn’t be encouraging him to separate himself like this. Then he thought, Forget it. He didn’t know where he was going when he left Indigo Cloud and he wasn’t going to give up even one night of comfort and company. He shifted to groundling as Chime moved over.

As Moon stretched out on the cushions, Chime whispered, “Sorry about earlier. I realize I shouldn’t have said that.”

Moon settled on his side, wriggling to find a spot for his hipbone. “It’s all right.”

“I just... We’ve all been hoping—”

Moon set his jaw, exasperated. “You don’t have to hope. Once the court moves you can get a consort from Star Aster.”

Chime whispered harshly, “I don’t want a stuck-up consort from Star Aster acting as if he’s condescending to do us a huge favor. I want you.”

Moon rolled over and sat up. He leaned over Chime and hissed, “You’re not going to get me.”

Chime hadn’t been raised to be a warrior and didn’t give way as easily as Root and Branch. He shrank back a little in token submission, but immediately demanded, “Why not?”

With an annoyed growl, Moon gave up and lay back down. The others might not be able to hear what they were talking about, but everyone might wonder why they were snarling at each other. “Stone never thought this would work. He just needed a consort so the others would agree to move the court. You and Flower know that.”

Chime persisted, “We don’t know that, and you don’t know what Stone thinks. Nobody knows what Stone thinks.”

Moon gritted his teeth. “If you don’t be quiet, I’m going to bite you.”

He didn’t know if Chime believed him, but at least he stopped talking.