CHAPTER TWO

One Change of the Month Later

Hunting was normally the Arbora’s job, though in the Reaches it was necessary to have warriors present to keep watch and help transport them and their prey to and from the colony tree. Moon had wondered occasionally why they didn’t just let the warriors do the hunting themselves, and attributed it to a combination of tradition and warriors being lazy. It had turned out the answer was that the warriors were terrible at hunting.

Moon crouched on the branch, his foot claws caught in the rough bark. “If you let me go down there and be the bait, we could get this over with.” The warriors were only doing the stalking today because their prey was a creature who had been pursuing the Arbora on their hunts and scaring away the usual game. It was just too big and too fast for the Arbora to deal with on their own, and it had already injured too many of them. The Arbora who had been attacked hadn’t been able to describe the predator well, and the hunter who had seen it best was still in a healing sleep back in the colony tree.

Chime, perched on the branch collar a little further down, said, “Uh, the hunt would be over with, all right. We’d have to spend the rest of the day recovering your body.”

Annoyed, Moon settled his wings. It was raining lightly, which wasn’t helping anyone’s temper. The already muted light falling through the multiple layers of leaves in the mountain-tree canopies was dim and more gray than green. The court had been tense since the shared dream, with everyone braced for it to be repeated, or for the event that it foretold to occur. Neither had happened. Nothing had turned up in the mentors’ augury, despite their best efforts. Jade had sent messages to their two closest allies, Sunset Water and Emerald Twilight, to see if they had had any similar experiences. The answer had been no, and the messages, delivered by warriors, had been too polite to convey what the other courts were actually thinking: that Indigo Cloud had collectively lost its mind.

Below, on a lower branch, one of the warriors startled a nest of flying lizards, sending them fleeing in a small explosion of multicolored squeaking, alerting half the Reaches to his presence. Moon hissed in frustration. He had been hunting for survival since he was a fledgling, while most of these warriors had still been playing in the nurseries. It had taken them three days to follow the signs and traces from the platform where the Arbora hunters had been attacked to here, and now they weren’t even sure where the thing had gone to ground. He told Chime, “I’ve been bait before—”

Chime nodded. “I know, and I find that terrifying.”

“—and I wasn’t talking to you.” He looked up at the smaller branch arching above them.

Jade perched up there, partially concealed from this angle by the drooping fronds of a fern tree that had taken root on the broad branch. She said, “Not every problem can be solved by you trying to get yourself killed.”

“Not every problem,” Moon agreed. He looked down toward the platforms nestled in the branches across from their vantage point. “But this one could be.”

The suspended forest was made up of layers and layers of these platforms, formed when dirt built up in the entwined mountain-tree branches until it had enough depth to grow grass, form ponds and swamps, and support entire forests of smaller trees. The platform their quarry might have gone to ground in was unusual in that another mountain-tree had taken root in it. Usually when this happened, the sapling mountain-tree died off or fell when its weight grew too heavy. This one was apparently intending to survive.

It was already a few hundred paces tall, its smaller canopy mingling with that of the mountain-tree that supported the platform, and its trunk was a good hundred paces around. Its roots had grown through the dirt of the platform and twined around the branches below it, and there was plenty of room to hide in that extensive and complex structure.

Jade said, definitively, “If anyone’s going to be bait, it’s me.”

Moon twitched his spines at her. “That is not fair.”

Jade snorted. “You sound like Frost.”

Moon had been teaching Frost and some of the older fledglings how to hunt, but there was no way he would have let any of them even come along to watch this. He had had to grow up the hard way, and while he was determined to teach all the fledglings how to take care of themselves in an emergency, he meant them to have a more normal Raksuran upbringing, which included comfortable nurseries guarded by determined Arbora and no fights to the death with suspended forest denizens. He pointed out, “Frost hasn’t done this before. I have.”

Jade’s sigh was part hiss of irritation. It didn’t sound like she would change her mind anytime soon.

Chime said, “This thing is too smart to be lured out by a Raksura acting as bait. If it wasn’t, we would have killed it already.” He added, “Maybe we need a mentor.”

He had a point. Moon just wished they could get this over with. He had been restless enough lately, worrying about the dream.

Ferns fluttered on the branch above, and Jade said, “I am not dragging a mentor all the way out here to tell us this damn thing is hiding under that sapling. We already know that.”

Moon had to say, “Probably hiding under the sapling.”

Jade swung down onto the lower branch to stand next to him. Exasperated, she said, “If we still can’t find this thing by twilight, I’ll—”

Then Chime said, “Wait.”

Moon turned. Chime had kept his gaze on the arched roots winding through the platform. He continued, “There was movement. Wait . . . There it is again.”

Jade stepped to Chime’s side and crouched to follow his sightline. She said, “At the base of the root that’s almost at the edge of the platform.”

“Yes.” Chime’s spines flicked in excitement. “I thought I saw the ground ripple. Now there’s a furrow.”

Moon saw it now, a too-perfect circle in the moss-covered dirt, next to one of the sapling’s roots. It shaped the outline of something with a big round body. Too big. But the Arbora had all agreed that the creature had attacked from under the top dirt and moss layer of a platform. Maybe they only saw a small part of it, Moon thought. Maybe the rest of it had been hidden. It would explain the warriors’ difficulty in following its trail.

Jade dove off the branch collar and spread her wings to drop silently. Moon jumped after her, and heard Chime’s claws scrabble on the wood as he scrambled to stay with them.

Jade landed on a branch a hundred or so paces down. It was closer to eye level with the platform that had the sapling, though still far enough away to keep the predator there from sensing their presence. At least, Moon hoped so.

As Moon landed beside Jade and furled his wings, Balm climbed out of concealment behind a big knot of red tree fungus. She said, “You saw something?”

“Chime did.” Jade pointed out the furrow for Balm, then glanced around at the surrounding branches. Another dozen or so warriors were hidden in various spots around them, some well-concealed, others peeking curiously out. “Now we just have to figure out how to do this.”

Balm leaned back to pass the word along to Briar, who was still crouched behind the fungus. Chime said, “Can we just . . . leap on it? All that dirt on top of it should keep it from reacting too quickly.”

Sometimes it was easy to tell that Chime had come late to being a warrior. His knowledge of how to attack things from the air was still sporadic. Keeping his voice low, Moon started to explain, “Digging itself just under the surface like that is probably an attack position—”

The predator burst out of the ground, spraying dirt and moss clumps, with so much force the mountain-tree sapling shook. It leapt forward off the platform, the round armored body blossoming with grasping limbs. Diagonal bands of flesh snapped out from under the upper shell. Moon snarled in astonishment. Chime said, a little unnecessarily, “Wait, it’s got wings!”

Jade launched herself into the air as the predator dove toward them. Moon knew she was going for the eyes or the head, and he leapt off the branch and aimed for the chest.

Moon swept in as the limbs on this side flailed at him. He twisted under and in toward the predator’s lower body, getting a brief glimpse of small mouths surrounded by tiny tentacles lining each jointed limb. It jerked at the last second and he missed, hitting its side below the first row of limbs instead of the underbelly. Then its body snapped upright as something knocked the creature backward; that had to be Jade, landing on the head. Hopefully an irritated Raksuran queen was more than this thing had counted on.

Moon held on with all his claws, trying to see a vulnerable point. He had temporarily lost his bearings and wasn’t sure which way was up and which down; the sinking feeling in his stomach told him they were freefalling. The thing must be a glider and Jade had knocked it right out of the air.

A limb groped for him and he slashed it away, then managed to get a look up toward the head. Jade ripped at the predator’s face but she was far too close to that wide mouth. The limbs reached up to drag at her. The armor around the cheeks moved and Moon’s heart thumped in terror; the creature might be able to extend its jaw to close on her.

Before he could yell a warning, Jade planted a powerful clawed foot in the creature’s jaw hinge. Moon heard a gurgling noise go through its body. That would hold it for a moment, but they were still falling and running out of time.

Moon couldn’t see any vulnerable point nearby and scrambled down the armored body, headed for the back end. If there was any other opening, it might be down there.

He reached the rear section and saw a thin spot in the armor around a puckered opening. He stabbed his claws into it. The predator jerked, its body contracted, and Moon looked back in time to see Jade swing out of range of its mouth.

Then he heard Balm shouting, “Drop, drop, now!”

Moon yelled, “Jade, drop!” and let go.

The predator tumbled away, but a stray limb slapped Moon in the head. He rolled and managed to get his wings out, his eyes filling with pain-tears. He squinted to see and made out Jade, just a blurry blue shape cupping her wings to slow her fall.

The predator fell toward the mist barrier hiding the lower levels of the forest. It rolled upright and shot its wings out—and then something large, dark, and fast knocked it out of the air.

Moon let his breath out in relief, flapping to stay aloft. He had wondered where Stone was.

There was a flurry of motion, some of the predator’s limbs went flying, and the two combatants fell below the mist. Moon landed on the nearest branch, a little winded.

Another warrior dove down, aiming to land beside him. Moon saw the vivid green scales with the blue undersheen, and growled.

River landed anyway. One of his virtues was that he wasn’t afraid of Moon, even though every time they had fought, Moon had won. River said, in disgust, “That was typical.”

Over the past couple of turns River’s position had moved from insisting that Moon was embarrassing the court by existing to insisting that Moon was embarrassing the court by not behaving like a proper consort. Moon said, “You need to find another reason to hate me and we can just talk about that all the time.”

“There’s so many to choose from, I get confused.” River flicked spines in derision.

Moon sighed. He decided to try honesty. “You thought Jade and I were going to get killed and it scared you and this is the only way you know how to say it.”

That worked. River snarled and fled the branch.

Stone reappeared, flapping up through the mist, carrying the creature clutched in his front claws. Its lower body hung open, guts dripping out. Stone circled around and dropped it on the platform.

Moon jumped off the branch and banked down to land nearby. Jade beat him there. As Chime, Balm, and the other warriors swept in, Stone shook his spines out and dragged his claws through the tufts of grass to get the foul-smelling ichor off them.

Stone shifted down to groundling to say, “Were you trying to kill it or just annoy it?”

“I didn’t have time to choose a better approach. I didn’t want it to get away.” Jade circled around toward the creature’s head.

Moon told Stone, “We were slowing it down for you, because you’re old.”

Stone’s expression was eloquent of the wish to slap Moon in the head. He said, “Slowing it down by throwing yourselves into its mouth? Did you think it was a picky eater?”

Chime said helpfully, “I think it only looked like they were doing that from a higher angle.”

Jade prodded a broken gliding wing with her foot-claws. “Why didn’t we know this thing could fly?”

Balm looked pointedly at Briar, whose spines drooped in dismay. Briar had been in charge of the group of warriors who had tracked the creature here. Briar said, “We thought it was climbing between platforms on branches. I guess this explains why we kept losing its trail.”

It did explain that. Moon was inclined to be sympathetic, especially now that they knew the warriors hadn’t actually lost their quarry and they hadn’t been stalking an unoccupied platform all this time.

Jade seemed to agree. She let her breath out and looked around at the gathered warriors. There were twenty of them here, female and male, older and more experienced like Vine and Sage, and younger and possibly even more experienced like Song and Root. After three days taking turns hunting and tracking, they all looked tired and bedraggled. Jade said, “No one’s dead, and we got the stupid thing. That’s all that matters.”

The warriors all flicked spines in relieved agreement. Stone didn’t look impressed, but then he usually didn’t.

Sand, who had been watching the surrounding branches, said, “Jade, Aura’s coming back.”

Moon turned to look. The four warriors who had been scouting the surrounding clearings were circling down toward the platform. Jade stepped forward as they landed. Their spines all twitched anxiously, but none of them seemed to be hurt. Aura said, “Jade, we found something you need to see. There’s a groundling flying boat.”

Everyone stared, the dead predator temporarily forgotten.

“Serene found it,” Aura continued. Behind her, Serene nodded, her spines signaling excited confirmation. “She heard something and went to check it out, and there it was.”

As Aura paused for breath, Moon asked, “Golden Islanders?” The Indigo Cloud court had had to borrow wind-ships from a Golden Islander family of scholars and traders for the long journey from the old colony in the east to the Reaches. Moon had friends among them that it would be good to see again. From the way Chime’s spines had just lifted with excitement, he felt the same way.

“No, not them.” Aura still looked worried. “It’s not a wind-ship, not anything like one.”

That wasn’t such good news. Jade frowned. “What was it doing? Did you see what sort of groundlings were aboard?”

“It’s just floating there,” Serene said.

“We couldn’t see anyone aboard,” Aura added. “We didn’t get too close. We didn’t want them to see us, and we were afraid they might be looking out through the window openings.”

This ... could be a problem, Moon thought. He found himself meeting Stone’s sour gaze. Yes, the Golden Islanders were the only groundlings who would be visiting the Reaches for a good reason. And if this flying boat wasn’t just hopelessly lost, it might be looking specifically for the Indigo Cloud colony tree.

“It’s not a leaf boat?” Chime asked. There were groundlings who lived in the lower, swampy parts of the Reaches on the forest floor, who could build some forms of flying transports. But they never came up as far as the top of the mist, let alone the suspended forest. “Does it look like it’s from the swamps?”

“It could be from the swamps, but it doesn’t look anything like a leaf boat.” Aura’s expression showed she knew that that was not a good sign. “I don’t think it’s from the Reaches at all.”

Jade hissed through her fangs. “Balm, you and Chime, and Vine, Aura, and Serene come with me and Moon. The rest of you get back to the colony.”

“You don’t think—” Chime began, and then settled his spines. “No, of course not,” he answered his own question.

Moon was certain he had been about to say, You don’t think this has anything to do with the Fell. This was the first unusual thing to happen since the night of the shared dream and it was hard not to wonder. Though it was also hard to imagine what a strange groundling boat would have to do with the Fell. It couldn’t be a request for help; strange groundlings usually thought Raksura were Fell.

Stone said, “I think I’ll come along too.”

Jade flicked her spines at him. “I was counting on you.”


They flew through the green caverns of the suspended forest, following as Aura and Serene led them toward the flying boat.

A queen wouldn’t have expected an ordinary consort to come with her to investigate a possible incursion by strange groundlings. But if Moon had been an ordinary consort, he would never have been out here in the first place. In the past couple of turns he hadn’t really gotten the court away from the idea of “young consorts don’t risk themselves, don’t do anything except sit around the colony and look pretty” but had got most of them to come around to “but Moon is not a normal young consort, and never will be.”

Since Pearl had taken Ember, and Moon and Jade had had their first clutch, the court’s future was far more secure. There was less pressure on Moon to be well-behaved, and less on Jade to make him act the way other courts thought he ought to. Though for most of the past turn, there hadn’t been much for Moon to do except take care of fledglings.

The flying boat wasn’t far away; if they hadn’t been so focused on the hunt, they might have sensed its presence sooner. But then that was why Jade had sent Aura and the others to scout the area, to make sure nothing else dangerous had been attracted by the presence of the warriors.

As they drew closer Moon saw the boat had stopped in a sun shaft. These were places where a mountain-tree had collapsed from old age and had left a large open spot in the canopy, where the sun had penetrated all the way to the ground, burning away the mist layers. They weren’t common and could harbor unknown and therefore even more dangerous fauna than usual; they also caused a whole host of different sun-loving flora to flourish, including plants and small trees that rarely grew in the Reaches at all. Moon had never had a chance to explore one, and didn’t expect to have the opportunity now. The strange flying boat was excitement enough for the moment.

They landed and took cover on an upper branch of one of the mountain-trees surrounding the sun shaft. From this vantage point they could look down on the flying boat, but were screened from view by the hanging curtains of leaves. Moon crouched between Jade and Chime, with Balm on Jade’s other side. Vine, Aura, and Serene hung back a little, and Stone landed on the branch above them, settling down into a crouch. His tail hung down behind Moon and the others, moving in slow thoughtful circles.

Low-voiced, Chime said, “Aura is right, that’s nothing like a Golden Islander boat.”

The craft was big, and not made out of wood or plant fiber like the other groundling trading and exploring boats they had encountered. It looked like it was made of moss, or some sort of dense wiry plant material very like it. It had a pointed bow with a triangular spine sweeping up to form the main hull and the square stern. It had multiple decks on either side of the spine, balconies in the lower hull, and clear coverings for the window openings like an Aventeran flying boat, but the shapes and angles and materials were completely different. And Aventeran boats always had air bladders, and this one clearly didn’t.

There was no one out on the deck, but there was no scent of death in the air, either.

Vine said, “At least it’s not Fell.” Aura and Serene murmured agreement.

Chime said to Jade, “It could just be lost.”

“It could be, but it wouldn’t have come into the Reaches accidentally.” Jade twitched her spines uneasily. “If they wanted to trade with one of the amphibian races, it’s in completely the wrong place.”

“Maybe it’s completely lost.” Moon edged along the branch, trying to get a better view through the screen of leaves. It was a possibility, but he didn’t think any species capable of building—or growing—and piloting a craft like this would be inept enough to lose their way this drastically. Whoever this was, they were probably looking for a Raksuran court. “We need to get a better look.”

Jade hesitated, but Moon could tell how much she wanted to figure this out before they had to return to the colony. He said, “It looks pretty stable. They wouldn’t notice if we landed on the side.”

Jade glanced at him, brows lifted ironically. “And you’re sure of this?”

Moon snorted. “No.”

She smiled, and unfurled her wings. “It’s worth a try.”

Above them, Stone stirred but didn’t shift to argue with their decision. There was no way he could land on the boat without the groundling crew being aware of it.

Jade said, “Moon, you take that lower set of windows and I’ll take the upper. I’ll go first. The rest of you stay here,” she added, as Balm, who probably wanted to go too, drew breath to protest.

Jade crouched and leapt, and landed on the side of the flying boat. She clung to the hull and Moon let out a hiss of relief; the boat hadn’t moved, as far as he could tell. Whatever was keeping it in the air held it remarkably still. It might be held aloft by a tiny fragment of flying island, like a Golden Isles wind-ship. Jade waited a few moments, her head held to the hull to listen for anyone calling the alarm. Then she signaled to Moon.

Chime whispered, “Careful.”

Moon crouched and made his own leap. His claws caught on the rough hull. It was like moss to the touch, but it wasn’t damp and felt too dense for vibrations to travel through.

Above him, Jade climbed toward the nearest window. The clear crystal insets were probably another reason why the inhabitants hadn’t heard anything. Moon swung down to the one below him and peered through.

The crystal distorted the view a little but he could see it was an empty room. There were shelves built into the far wall with cushions for padding and blankets, and a few odd belongings strewn around, including a colorful wrap or shawl, and a stacked collection of crockery. This was someone’s, or multiple someone’s, living quarters. He climbed along to another set of windows and found another empty sleeping room, and then the next few rooms stacked with bundles and casks. But then the next held something more interesting.

Moon gripped the edge of the window with one hand and leaned back, waved until Jade glanced down and started toward him.

Moon pulled himself back to the window. Inside, a groundling sat on the floor, half turned away from the window, hunched over and writing in a book. There was something familiar about his shape. He was small, with long white hair tied back, gold skin, a beard long enough that he had flung the end back over his shoulder to get it out of his way. He turned a little so his profile was visible and Moon felt his spines twitch in startled reaction. It was Delin-Evran-lindel.

Moon leaned back from the window. Jade crouched on the hull just above him, holding on with all her claws. He whispered, “It’s Delin.”

She frowned. “What is he doing in this thing?” Delin was a Golden Islander, and they had never seen him use a flying boat like this.

Moon could think of at least one bad reason. If someone had wanted to find a Raksuran colony tree, they might have decided to steal Delin and force him to show them the way. “Let’s ask him.”

Jade nodded for him to go ahead, and Moon tapped a claw on the crystal.

Delin looked up, startled, then waved enthusiastically. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the window, turned the catch on the inside and swung it open. Voice low, he said, “I was hoping you would find me. I have much to tell you.”

Jade drew back and motioned for Moon to go ahead. “I’ll stay out here.”

Moon climbed in through the window and dropped to the floor. He shifted to groundling; though Delin had never been afraid of Raksuran scales and claws, it seemed more polite in this confined space. In soft-skinned groundling form, Moon was tall and slender, with bronze skin, dark hair, and green eyes. His clothes were simple brown pants and shirt, dirty now that the mud and moss that had been on his scales had transferred to the cloth, and the only jewelry he wore was his red-gold consort’s bracelet. The ability to make the shift and take objects with you from one form to the other was something fledglings learned very young; Moon had been lucky his foster mother Sorrow had taught him before she died.

The other reason for shifting was the number of groundling species who resembled some version of this form, though with varying colors, shapes, and textures. If someone else stepped into the cabin unexpectedly, Moon would pass for an ordinary groundling, and cause a moment of confusion that might buy him time to escape, rather than immediate terror and screams for help. Moon said, “Delin, did these people steal you?”

“Not exactly.” Delin patted his arm. “But I am happy to see a friendly face.”

The cabin was small but high-ceilinged, and the heavy rafters that supported the deck above crossed it lengthwise. They looked like the stems or stalks of a large plant. There was a bed space built into one wall and a basin for water, and various shelves for belongings, though Delin didn’t seem to have brought many. There was only a small pack and a basket, and not much in the way of paper and writing materials. Knowing how many books Delin normally traveled with on his own wind-ship, that in itself was suspicious. The door was fan-folded, light enough that Delin could probably have battered through it. But this was a flying boat and there was nowhere for a groundling to escape to.

“How do you mean ‘not exactly?’” Moon asked. Delin looked the same, though it had been more than two turns since Moon had seen him. He was elderly for a Yellow Sea groundling and his gold skin was weathered by turns of wind-ship travel, but he smelled like he was in good health. He wore the kind of clothes Golden Islanders usually wore on their ships or for outdoor work: a loose shirt and pants cut off at the knee, of a light fabric.

“The story is long and somewhat fraught.” Delin sat down on the bed and Moon crouched on the floor. “The thing you must know immediately is that these people are of Kish-Jandera, one of the coastal territories of the Imperial Kish. They wish to find the Indigo Cloud court. I have said I would tell them the way, but after we entered the Reaches, I have willfully misremembered the route for these past few days, in the hope that I could warn you first.”

“All right.” If this was anybody but Delin, it would have been alarming and suspicious. It still was, but Moon had seen Delin navigate his way through some tricky situations. “Why do they want to talk to Raksura?”

“Not just Raksura, but you in particular.” Delin leaned forward, his expression intent. “Moon, they have found an ancient city. I fear it may have been built by the forerunners, like the city you discovered on the northwestern coast.”

Moon stared, and felt his back teeth start to itch from pure nervous reaction. “Where?”

A faint sound outside the door warned him, a footstep on the cork floor. Moon shifted and leapt for the ceiling, sinking his claws into the moss, curling his body up along one of the big stems that supported the structure. The door rattled and a voice said, “Delin?”

Delin stood and faced the door. “Yes?”

The folding door was pushed open and a groundling stepped through, passed under Moon as it crossed the cabin toward Delin.

The groundling was about Moon’s height, with a dark cap of short, tightly curled hair and reddish brown skin that was rough and almost pebbly; it wasn’t scaled, but it looked thick and tough. He was probably male. He wore a loose jacket of red-brown with figured designs in dull gold, open at the chest, and tight pants that went to the knees, with knee-high sandals with elaborately wrapped straps. The materials looked rich and carefully worked.

Moon dropped lightly to the deck, and shifted back to his groundling form by the time his bare feet touched the floorboards. He pushed the door shut.

The figure turned and fell back a startled step. His dark eyes opened wide, revealing a second lower eyelid.

Behind him, Delin said, “He is Moon of Indigo Cloud, a consort of the Raksura. So be very careful what you say and do.” He added to Moon, “This is Callumkal, Master Scholar of the Conclave of the Janderan.”

Callumkal eyed Moon. Moon knew he didn’t look terribly impressive at the moment, standing barefoot on the deck in mud- and moss-stained work clothes. Callumkal glanced back at Delin and said, “I thought you might be delaying intentionally.” He spoke Altanic, one of the more common eastern trade languages. He didn’t sound angry, but it was always hard to read emotions accurately off strange groundlings. He was wearing a leather harness under his open jacket, the straps hanging down below it. The dark leather was almost the same color as Callumkal’s skin, and Moon hadn’t noticed it at first, and had thought the buckles were jewelry. It looked utilitarian, and was worn in spots as if it had been used for hard work. Moon just couldn’t figure out what sort of work. For riding some kind of grasseater, maybe. Except these groundlings had a flying boat; why would they need to bring riding grasseaters?

“It is better to speak here, away from the colony.” Delin was undisturbed at being caught with a Raksura in his room. “Everyone will be more comfortable.”

Callumkal inclined his head. “You could have explained that.”

“Could I?” Delin shrugged. “Probably.”

That Delin, one of the most straightforward groundlings of any race that Moon had ever met, felt the need to dissemble didn’t bode well. Moon said in Raksuran, “And you said these people didn’t steal you.”

“They did not,” Delin answered in the same language. He must have been practicing since the last time they met, though his accent was still terrible. “But they were determined on this course. It was better to let them think they were in command while I navigated from the stern.”

Callumkal waited patiently for Delin to finish speaking. Then he looked at Moon. “You understand Altanic?”

“Yes.” Moon stepped away from the door. If there was going to be a fight, he didn’t want to start it. And moving put him closer to the window, where he knew Jade must be listening.

“Delin told us about your experience in the ancient underwater city. We only wish to speak to you about it.” Callumkal glanced at Delin again, and his voice was tinged with what might be irony. “I’m sure he has told you by now, that we have located a place we believe to be similar, perhaps constructed by the same species, perhaps not. We intend to try to enter it, and wish to be as forearmed as possible.”

“It might not matter how forearmed you are,” Moon said. “There are some things you can’t prepare for.”

When some groundlings spoke with a Raksura for the first time, they seemed surprised. Moon could usually tell if it was surprise that Raksura could speak a civilized language, or surprise that they could talk at all. It was ironic that the Fell rulers, the most dangerous and deadly predators of groundlings, were fluent in any number of languages, and that friendly races like the Kek had difficulty with everything but their own speech because of the structure of their vocal apparatus.

Callumkal was the kind of groundling who was surprised that a Raksura could sound so civilized. He got over it quickly, though, saying, “Delin has told us about what happened in the underwater city. I was hoping for a first-person account.”

“Why?” Moon tilted his head. “You already know from Delin what we found. Would hearing it from me make you change your mind about what you plan to do?”

“Probably not,” Callumkal admitted. “But if my party doesn’t enter this city, I fear who else will.”

Moon looked at Delin. Delin told him, “That was one of the things I wish to speak to you about.” He added to Callumkal, “It is better if my friends and I speak in private. There are others I wish to consult.” He started briskly toward the window.

In Raksuran, Moon said, “Jade, Delin’s about to jump out. Be sure to catch him.”

As Callumkal stared, uncomprehending, Delin boosted himself into the open window. Callumkal began, “You can’t mean to—”

Delin heaved himself out head first. Moon heard the whish of Jade’s wings an instant later. This let him approach the window at a leisurely pace. He was curious to see whether Callumkal would try to stop him.

Callumkal seemed too nonplussed to react. Moon said, “He’ll send word to you in the morning.” He caught hold of the sill and slipped out.

He dropped and shifted, and snapped his wings out. He heard someone cry out in alarm from above. He flapped into the cover of the tree canopy and landed on the branch where Jade stood with Delin and the warriors. Delin was looking up at Stone’s large form and smiling. He said, “Friend Stone! It is good to see you again. It’s good to see all of you.”

“We like you too,” Chime told him, bewildered, “but what are you doing here?”

“First, a warning.” Delin turned to Moon. “You saw the harness Callumkal wore?”

Moon nodded, remembering that Delin wouldn’t be able to read the flash of spines that meant assent. “I was wondering about that.”

“It attaches to a device that holds a plant material, the same as in the construction of their sky-ship, that allows the wearer a simple, limited form of flight.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Moon looked at the flying boat again. Figures moved on the deck, but none of the groundlings leapt into the air. Just the idea that they might was nerve-racking.

Above them, Stone rumbled in severe annoyance. Balm hissed and said, “As if we don’t have enough to worry about.”

Jade watched Delin intently. “That groundling said that he was afraid of who else would enter the city. Did he mean what I think he meant?”

“I fear so,” Delin said. “It is the Fell, I am sorry to say. There are signs the Fell have found this strange ancient city. That is what we have to discuss.”

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