The Harbors of the Sun

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

In the Eastern Reaches

Heart waited in the greeting hall, trying not to pace. She was going with Pearl and Malachite to talk to their new half-Fell allies, and she was trying to pretend as if this didn’t frighten her. Though it wasn’t the idea of the half-Fell that was the problem. Malachite had made it clear most of the flight were Fell, subordinate to the half-Fell queen.

The shared dream and visions of Fell attack had been bad enough. Heart took a deep breath to calm herself. This was different.

“Are you all right, mentor?” Celadon asked her. The Opal Night daughter queen waited a few paces away with three of her warriors. Floret had just arrived with Vine and Sage and Malachite’s warriors. Celadon herself would remain behind, since leaving a court without a queen present just wasn’t a good idea, especially under these circumstances.

No one smelled as nervous as Heart, which didn’t help. She said, “I’m fine, thank you. It was just . . . I was held prisoner by the Fell once, when they attacked our court to the east. Moon saved us.”

Celadon’s spines flicked in sympathy. “I haven’t heard that story. Will you tell me when we get back?”

For some reason it was easier to remember that Malachite was Moon’s birthqueen than it was that this sober, capable daughter queen was his clutchmate. Distracted, Heart dipped her spines in assent. “I will.”

Heart sensed movement overheard and looked up in time to see Pearl and Malachite launch themselves off the queens’ hall terrace. Apparently they had solved the question of precedence by simply going at the same time, though Heart somehow doubted if Malachite cared. Heart said, tentatively, “They’re getting along very well.” She wasn’t sure Celadon and the Opal Night contingent understood what a revelation that was for Indigo Cloud.

Celadon lowered her voice. “No one speaks to Malachite like that, especially not another reigning queen. She’s enjoying it.”

The two queens landed on the greeting hall floor before Heart had a chance to take that statement in. Then Pearl said, “Come on, let’s get this travesty started.”

Heart clung to Vine as they flew through the cool damp air. It was a long trip but it had been a while since she had been flown through the Reaches, so she didn’t mind. The sunlight that streamed through all the thick layers of the canopy was soft and green. Platforms made by the wild mountain-trees’ branches were covered with lush grass, vines, and flowers. Many supported glades of smaller trees or the swampy overflow of water drawn up through the mountain-trees’ roots. Heart caught glimpses of a dozen different grasseaters and predators that lived on the platforms, including the mottled gray-green tree-frogs bigger than she was, too shy to come near the colony tree.

Some of the mountain-trees were in strange shapes, bending down or curving around other trees, some were hung with curtains of moss big enough to drape over Indigo Cloud’s main garden platforms. It was all a much-needed distraction, until Vine said in her ear, “We’re nearly there. Can you scent them?”

With her next breath Heart caught the Fell stench laced through the air. It was like a thread of bitter rot creeping through all the intense green and flower scents. She tried not to react, but she must have tensed, because Vine tightened his hold on her.

Pearl abruptly signaled a landing and they banked down to a platform heavily overgrown with vines and small, purple-fern trees. Vine said, “This is one of our outposts. Well, one of Opal Night’s outposts, but we helped.”

Heart’s eye caught movement, and she realized there were warriors and a few Arbora under the cover of the ferny leaves, waiting for the queens to land. Huge branches that had fallen down onto the platform had been hollowed out and made into shelters. Heart studied it avidly, trying to spot and memorize all the details. It was an excellent concealed camp, and Blossom and Rill and the other teachers would want to hear about every trick and technique.

Pearl and Malachite lit on the broken remnants of a fallen branch and the warriors followed them down. By the time they landed, a female Opal Night warrior was reporting to the queens. Heart only caught the last bit as Vine set her on her feet. “—more of them, maybe another flight.”

Malachite said, “I need to see for myself.” She tilted her head at Pearl.

Pearl twitched her spines in annoyed assent.

Heart steeled herself, set her jaw, and said, “I should see them. In case it sparks a vision.”

Malachite tilted her head at Pearl. Pearl considered it, her spines flicking. She said, “Come here, then. The rest of you wait here.”

It wasn’t long before Heart began to glimpse brighter sunlight between the branches and platforms ahead. “They won’t be close,” Pearl had told her, “but we need to be careful of dakti scouts.” As they drew nearer to the edge, Heart found herself taking a firmer grip on Pearl’s collar flanges. It was a different experience being carried by a queen of Pearl’s size. It was like being carried by Moon, whose easy, unexpected strength in flight was always surprising, and so different from the warriors. Pearl was like that, except her larger body was more reassuringly solid.

Finally Malachite lit on a large branch on a mountain-tree sapling just at the edge of the wetlands. Pearl cupped her wings to land beside her. She didn’t set Heart down immediately, and Heart found herself clinging like a baby. You’re a grown mentor, you can handle this, she told herself, trying to settle her nerves.

“There they are,” Pearl whispered.

Heart stretched to look. She was afraid of what she would see, but it was just the bright sunlight on the tall grass of the wetlands. Light played on stretches of open water between stands of reeds and the occasional copse of broadleaf trees. She had seen this fringe of the Reaches when they had first arrived here, when they had left the destruction of the old eastern colony and so many of their dead behind.

Floret had described the western fringe of the Reaches as a gradual change from mountain-tree forest to rocky plains. But here on the eastern fringe the change was abrupt; the wetlands turned into lush fields of short green grass, dotted with tiny white flowers and alive with glasslizards and insects, then it stopped abruptly at the line of mountain-trees. Standing on the grass and facing the forest was like looking at the impenetrable wall of a giant cliff face.

Heart had been afraid the Fell would be as thick on the wetlands as the myriad colors of the waterbirds. It was a relief to see the landscape empty. Then a dark shape moved in the distance. And then another, and another. Kethel, Heart thought, and felt a chill travel through the skin under her spines.

She counted at least twelve. They were mostly clustered over a group of low hills, some distance across the wetlands. “Is that an old ruin?” Heart asked softly. The ripple in the terrain of the marshes looked unnatural.

“Probably.” Pearl hissed and said, “There’s more kethel than there were before.”

Malachite didn’t acknowledge that, but after a moment said, “We should go.”

Pearl turned and dove off the branch, snapping her wings out. Heart shivered against the heat of her scales.

They rejoined the warriors and Pearl handed Heart over to Vine again. As they flew toward the camp of the Fellborn queen’s flight, Vine asked her, “Was it worse? Pearl looks like it was worse.”

“We saw more kethel,” Heart told him. She had been hoping it would spark a vision, but nothing had happened yet. She could still sense the potential for one in the awareness of uncertain movement just outside her conscious thoughts.

The Fellborn queen’s flight was camped on a platform high in a mountain-tree. The tree’s canopy bent toward it, the huge branches curved over, giving the feeling of a cavern or a vast green chamber.

The platform had been efficiently cleared to its grassy surface and the Fell had actually built shelters of woven leaves and stripped saplings. There were hearths, too, dug out of the moss and dirt. The big bones of several grasseaters, probably the furry hoppers from what Heart could see, were piled near the edge. Dakti peered out from under the shelters, watching their approach. Heart scanned the canopy and picked out two kethel, coiled on the upper branches, keeping watch. A growl built in her chest and she forced it down.

Vine landed with the others on a branch overlooking the platform. He said to Floret, “That’s weird. It looks like a real camp.”

“It does,” she said, settling her wings. She eyed the camp critically. “I didn’t think they knew how to do that.”

Rise leaned over and told Floret and Vine, “We had to show the dakti how to build the shelters, and what grasseaters to hunt, but I was surprised they actually listened to us.”

“Better you than us,” Vine muttered in Heart’s ear.

Malachite and Pearl waited further down the branch, Malachite as still as if she was a wall carving and Pearl flicking her spines impatiently. A figure ducked out of the biggest shelter and at first Heart thought it was a ruler. As it came further into the open she realized this was the half-Fell queen.

Malachite and Pearl launched off the branch and dropped to the platform, Pearl flicking a spine to tell the warriors to follow. Vine landed with the others and set Heart on her feet. He gave her wrist an encouraging squeeze. Heart took a deep breath, reminded herself she was a mentor, and stepped forward. The wet grass brushed her scales as she moved to stand just behind and to the right of Pearl.

The Fell queen, Consolation, picked her way toward them, a dakti in her wake. She said without preamble, “There are more today. You saw them already?” She spoke Raksuran but not as fluently as the other Fell. She spoke it like Delin did, just a little hesitantly, as if trying to remember words. Heart wondered if it was because the flight had no progenitor. The Fell’s facility for their prey’s languages might come from their connection to the progenitor or the rulers. It was something to talk to Merit about. If Merit’s alive, Heart thought bleakly. If Jade can find him and Bramble.

Malachite said, “We saw them.”

Pearl’s gaze moved over the dakti, the two rulers who remained back near the bigger shelter. The way her spines angled told Heart she was acutely aware of the kethel in the branches above. Pearl said to Malachite, “We need to talk about this strategy of yours.”

The dakti nudged Consolation. She said, “We know how to make the progenitor come to us. But we want something else from you before we do it.”

Pearl’s spines took on a flare that would have caused the warriors to bolt out of reach if it had been directed at them. Malachite tilted her head and said, “And what is that?”

The dakti ducked its head in a gesture Heart would have sworn was nervous. Consolation hesitated, watching them both warily. She dragged one set of foot claws through the grass and moss and said, “We had a consort.”

Heart’s lips peeled back to bare her teeth without any conscious volition on her part. Pearl’s hiss was near soundless and the tip of Malachite’s tail flicked almost imperceptibly. The cold, sardonic amusement was heavy in Malachite’s voice as she said, “You say this to us.”

Consolation’s brow furrowed. “He was my sire. He named me. I can speak of him.”

Heart made herself take a breath. Pearl’s tail lashed. Malachite said, “Speak.”

Consolation said, “Before he died, he said we were going to go someplace, just us and a few others, the nice ones. A big tree, maybe.” She added defensively, “I didn’t know what he meant until we got here.”

Heart had to lock her jaw to keep her expression neutral. It was painful to think about, this long dead consort making plans for escape with his fledgling queen. She wondered if Malachite could identify the court. But she didn’t see how a consort could be taken from a court within the vastness of the Reaches. It must have been an eastern court, one that told stories of their old mothercourt and its colony tree in the west.

Consolation continued, “But we had to learn to hunt grasseaters and grow things, like groundlings.” The dakti risked a glance at the queens, then scratched the side of its head, somehow conveying mild doubt. Consolation eyed Malachite. “If you show us that, I’ll help you with the plan. I can get the most powerful progenitor to come to me.”

Heart could feel the skepticism rolling off Pearl in a wave. Malachite gave no hint of her own reaction. Malachite said, “How?”

Consolation settled her shoulders, her own spines moving, though Heart wasn’t sure what that meant. She said, “I have secret information and she has to come to me to get it. Then she comes and we kill her. This will do what we want, make her flight and the others confused and easier to kill.”

Pearl hissed in disbelief. “And you think that will work?”

The dakti tilted its head to look up at her and said, “It worked on us.”

Pearl deliberately turned her gaze on it and it cringed and edged back a step.

The tip of Malachite’s tail moved in a small circle. “One of the other progenitors won’t take the lead?”

That was what Heart was wondering. The problem was that they had very little idea of how Fell flights cooperated, or didn’t cooperate, with each other. They knew the flights shared knowledge, maybe through bloodline connections between the rulers. Maybe the same way that the rulers of a flight knew one of their own had been killed, and how they could locate the body unless the head was severed and buried. But Heart had never known of two flights cooperating. This idea of different Fell flights massing for a single purpose was new and horrible.

Consolation said, “None of the others are as powerful as her. They’ll try to take the lead, but the others will resist, and they’ll fight.”

Pearl and Malachite looked at each other. Watching the accord between them, Heart realized she had never seen two reigning queens work in concert like this.

Pearl’s spines moved in inquiry and Malachite moved one spine in response. Heart wasn’t even sure what that meant, but Pearl hissed again and said to Consolation, “What secret information?”

Consolation seemed exasperated. “Can’t I just tell them it’s something secret?”

Pearl regarded Malachite again, her spines twitching in irritation. Heart read that expression clearly as I can’t. I’d have to kill her. You do it. With the patience of a rock, Malachite said to Consolation, “Send a message, tell her you know where another Raksuran colony is, a small one, not well guarded, closer to the fringe. You won’t lead her to it, but you’ll tell her where it is when she meets you.”

Pearl’s spines moved in thoughtful consideration. “When the progenitor asks why she wants to meet instead of just sending the direction?”

Malachite tilted her head at Pearl. “She wants something in return.”

“A big tree, but not like this, a better one,” Consolation supplied. The dakti nudged her, but whether it was to urge her to be quiet or agree about the tree, it was hard to tell. “With an inside,” Consolation added.

Pearl and Malachite ignored her. Pearl said, “The Fell aren’t going to believe that.”

This time it was Consolation and the dakti who exchanged a look. The dakti said, “Correct. They don’t understand us.”

It was right. The Fell would never understand the half-Fell’s desire for a permanent home. Heart wasn’t even sure if she believed in it or not, if it was a whim or if it was the Fellborn queen’s real goal. It seemed an incredible thing to consider, and the Arbora had worried about the possibility of Fell influence being directed against courts inside the Reaches, even if the half-Fell didn’t intend it consciously. But Opal Night’s mentors had said that the lack of a progenitor meant the flight couldn’t direct their attention toward Raksura like that, even if they wanted to.

Consolation’s expression turned exasperated. “Then what do I say?”

Malachite said to Consolation, “Tell them you want a consort. From the spoils, after you kill us all.”

Heart twitched and felt her spines flare despite her best intentions. The movement rippled through all the warriors, an instinctive response. Even the idea, even if it was just part of a trick, made rage pulse inside her chest.

Consolation’s brow furrowed, as if she suspected a trap. She glanced at the warriors and said, “It’s just a trick. We’re really getting a big tree.”

Pearl growled under her breath and twitched her spines at Malachite. Malachite told Consolation, “In the western Reaches, there are old abandoned colony trees in my territory, owned by Opal Night. I will give you one, and you will be shown how to live in it. But if you touch any Raksura, Aeriat or Arbora, or kill and eat any sentient being, groundling or swampling or skyling or other, if I find you have lied to me, I will kill every single one of you.”

There was no change in her inflection but Heart felt the air turn just a little colder. She drew a sharp breath. Malachite did that. That was not my imagination.

Consolation eyed her warily. The dakti drew back a little. It poked Consolation and said, “This tree is good.”

“You’re not having this tree,” Pearl growled. “It’s the one in the west or nothing.”

Consolation gave the dakti a gentle push to the head. “We’ll take the tree in the west.”

Malachite stood still for so long, Heart felt the nerves ripple under her spines. It was a predatory stillness, that seemed to affect everyone except Pearl. Consolation watched her with an uneasy air, and the dakti hunched down again. When Pearl finally demanded, “What?” Heart flinched.

Malachite said, “This needs something else.” She turned to regard Pearl. “It’s just her word that she knows where a court is. And these Fell will know by now that she helped destroy a flight in the sel Selatra. We need something more convincing.”

Pearl let out a hiss and lashed her tail a little, but admitted, “You’re right.”

Consolation drew breath, clearly to protest, but the dakti said, “Correct.” Then it added, “You know what they think of us. They will suspect.” Consolation subsided mutinously.

Malachite said, “She needs a captive.”

Heart hissed to herself. She’s right, the Fell will never believe it without some kind of proof. Before she came to her senses, Heart said, “I’ll do it.”

“It can’t be a queen, because the Fell aren’t that stupid,” Heart said. Pearl had picked her up by her frills and hauled her to the edge of the platform, out of earshot of the Fell, to discuss it. Heart didn’t mind, because it was Pearl’s version of discussing, which involved a lot of growling and veiled threats that Pearl had no intention of carrying out, so it was better to do it in private. “It can’t be a warrior, because they don’t want warriors. It has to be an Arbora.” She wasn’t even going to list the reasons it couldn’t be a consort. They were just lucky Moon was with Jade and not here to volunteer.

“Heart—” Pearl put her hands on Heart’s shoulders as if she wanted to shake her. Well, she did want to shake her.

Heart clasped her wrists. “You know this is best. You’re just angry because you can’t think of a good reason not to do it.”

“I can’t risk the chief mentor for this stupid plan,” Pearl hissed.

“It’s not stupid,” Heart said. “It can work. It could save so many lives, if the Fell panic among themselves and fight, or leave. And Malachite is right, if Consolation has a prisoner, the progenitor is more likely to be fooled long enough for the plan to work.” She met Pearl’s gaze. “And I’m the chief mentor and I say I take the risk.” As difficult as it was to do this, Heart knew asking someone else to do it would be worse. She added, “And I’ve done it before, for real. I can handle it.”

Pearl growled in frustration. “If you get yourself killed—”

Heart did what only an Arbora or a fledgling could have done in this situation. She stepped forward and leaned against Pearl’s chest. “Don’t be angry.”

Pearl stopped growling. After a moment, she said, “Stop that.”

To the Far South, On the Cloudwalls

As the wind-ship flew, the cool wind turned colder. Moon stayed up in the bow, resting and keeping watch.

The gorges still wound through the plain but the low hills looked as if they were moving off toward the east. Literally moving, as Moon realized they weren’t hills, but enormous creatures with gently curving backs. They had legs like the trunks of mountain-trees, stepping with ponderous deliberation. Not long after, Chime spotted a flight of wingless birds that were flying anyway, slipping through the air like fish in a stream.

It was cold enough for the groundlings that the Golden Islander crew had to get out extra clothing. Shade came up to sit on the deck with Moon, bringing some of the extra garments the Islanders had loaned them. He gave Moon a loose shirt, made of a very soft fabric woven from the fibers of a plant that grew on the shallow seabed near the Golden Isles, dyed a soft blue. Chime wore one similar to it but an undyed yellow. Moon wasn’t that cold yet but the cloth still carried the scent of the Golden Isles: a hint of the spices they used on their food, and the salt and sun scent of the wind that crossed the Yellow Sea. He had already changed into the other clothes he had brought, the shirt and pants of dark-colored silky material woven by the Arbora at Indigo Cloud. He had left them with Jade and the others as too fine to blend in with the groundling crowds at the trading ports and settlements he and Stone might have had to stop at. But the sleeves were long and the pants went all the way down to his ankles, and they provided more protection from the cold. He pulled the borrowed Islander shirt over his head.

Bramble and Delin came out to join them, Bramble squishing herself between Moon and Chime for comfort and Delin sitting nearby, sketching the landscape in one of his books. He had been almost as happy to see his papers, carefully saved with his pack from the sunsailer, as he had been to see Niran and Diar and the rest of the Golden Islander crew.

Rorra and Niran had followed them out with Kalam, and taken seats nearby on the sun-warmed deck. It was clear they were trying to get Kalam to take a rest from anxiously watching his parent. It was hard to tell with Jandera, but Kalam’s eyes looked sunken, a sign of fatigue, and Moon thought he had probably stayed up all night with Callumkal. Watching Rorra and Niran, two people not known for their cheerful demeanor, clearly trying to make Kalam feel better about his parent’s prospects was awkward.

Maybe that was what made Bramble wriggle out from under Moon’s arm to change the subject. She asked, “Do we know why the Fell are attacking the Reaches now? I mean, they’ve always hated us, so why now?”

Chime said, “The Fellborn queen told Malachite that the Fell are blaming us for what happened to the flights that tried to breed with Raksura.”

Bramble snarled at the unfairness of it. “That’s not our fault.”

“It is not your fault. But it is certainly due to the Fell’s lack of understanding of Raksura,” Delin said. He looked down the deck toward the kethel, who had moved up to the mid portion of the wind-ship. It sat back against the cabin wall with its head tilted up and its eyes closed, apparently enjoying the sun. “Do the Fell practice controlled breeding, as the Raksura do?”

That got Rorra’s and Kalam’s startled attention. Rorra said, “The Raksura do what?”

Delin explained, “When Arbora mate in order to breed, it is only with a great deal of consideration of their lineages and what traits they wish the offspring to have, and if they wish to produce Arbora or warriors. They try to anticipate what the court will require anywhere from twenty to forty turns in the future, since maturity rates for Arbora and Aeriat are different. There are no clutches created without careful planning.”

“He’s right,” Niran said with a sigh. “The teachers talked a great deal about their bloodlines and prospective clutches when I was there. In exhaustive detail.”

Moon had never thought of it in those terms, but he knew that was what Raksuran courts did. Indigo Cloud was breeding for survival, Opal Night breeding for war.

Chime said, sourly, “Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you plan, no matter how well you’ve taken everything into account.”

Bramble nodded in resignation. “We ended up with way too many Arbora for a while, and not enough warriors.” She looked up at Moon. “Or consorts.” After a moment, she added hesitantly, keeping her voice low, “I know you weren’t serious when you said—”

“I was serious,” Moon told her. “If you want.” He couldn’t remember if Bramble was one of the Arbora who had said she meant to try for a clutch later this turn. “If you don’t want a clutch—”

“I do.” Bramble bounced happily and squeezed his arm.

Rorra was saying slowly, “I’m still not sure I understand—” Kalam looked baffled and dismayed.

Delin smiled. “Sex that is not for procreation is a different matter, and done only to please the participants.”

Niran added, “That matches what I observed.” Rorra and Kalam turned to stare at him. Niran kept his expression carefully blank.

Moon said, “I don’t understand.” Chime, drawing breath to speak, broke off to stare at him in astonishment. Moon said impatiently, “No, I understand all that, but I don’t understand what it has to do with the Fell.”

“Oh, right.” Chime turned to Delin. “I’m not sure if the Fell plan their breeding like we do. I don’t think anyone knows. We know the progenitors breed with the rulers, but the dakti and kethel aren’t fertile. Or at least that’s what the mentors have always believed.” He frowned. “If the Fell don’t exchange rulers between flights . . . No, they must, or it wouldn’t work. I guess we could ask our kethel.”

Niran grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to be there when you do. Grandfather, what are you getting at?”

Delin said, “So the Fell’s controlled breeding, if they practice it at all, would be a simple affair. Whereas a Raksuran court’s controlled breeding is an elaborate weaving, all the threads considered and carefully placed by both the queens and the Arbora, with new thread judiciously spun from other courts as needed.”

Bramble stirred and said, “That would be a lovely drawing, if you knew more about weaving.”

“I’ve seen weaving done,” Delin protested to her. He made a gesture toward Shade, who leaned on the rail, listening with an expression almost as confused as Moon’s. “Fell and Raksura are two different species who share the same common ancestor. Yet Raksura are experts at breeding for beneficial traits, for the good of the whole court.” He shrugged. “If the Raksura had a way to manipulate the breeding of the Fell by some trickery, to add new bloodlines, they could turn the rulers and the progenitors into something else, more like the Fellborn queen, or like Shade. They could allow the kethel and dakti independent thought and let them develop naturally. Left to their own devices, the kethel and dakti might become more like the Arbora, able to provide and create, with no need to steal and destroy other species. No need to kill and consume each other in times when no other prey is available, or when the progenitor wishes to reduce their number. They would be ruled not by a progenitor with absolute control, but a being more like a Raksuran queen or consort, for whom the welfare of each member of the flight is of primary importance.”

Then Shade hissed in startled fury. Moon snapped around to look, shifting in mid-motion.

Kethel stood beside the cabin, having approached in total silence. It stared at Delin, its gaze fixed but lacking the predatory glint that would have sent Moon for its throat. It said, “How? How would this be done?”

Everyone had tensed. In his peripheral vision, Moon saw Kalam touch the belt of the fire weapon slung across his back, as if making certain it was still there. Rorra put both hands on the deck, ready to shove herself upright. Niran carefully didn’t look toward Diar, who stood in the steering cabin and had just picked up the fire weapon stored there. Shade had shifted and coiled himself around the railing, ready to strike.

Then Moon spotted Stone atop the steering cabin, sitting just at its edge. Moon didn’t think the kethel meant to attack, but it was a relief to see Stone nearby.

Delin was the only one who seemed undisturbed. Watching the kethel thoughtfully, he said, “I cannot say. It is only a theory. And would of course require the cooperation of many Fell.”

Kethel took this in, its large brow furrowing, apparently oblivious to the reaction it had caused. It said, “But not progenitors.” Moon wasn’t sure what was stranger, that it had been so excited by the prospect or that it appeared to be getting depressed as it considered the more practical aspects of it.

Delin lifted his brows. “You think there is no progenitor who would cooperate?”

“No.” It shook its head slowly, reluctantly dismissing the idea. It looked around at all of them finally. Then it said defensively, “We changed. And it was better for kethel and dakti.”

Moon made himself lower his spines. He exchanged a glance with Chime. It had occurred to him that Delin had seen the kethel approaching to listen and had been talking solely to it for the past few moments.

Shade was still braced for attack. Moon shifted to groundling and said, “Shade, come here.”

Shade’s tail lashed once, but he was far better trained in good Raksuran behavior than Moon, and too polite to resist when an older consort called him. Reluctantly, he shifted and climbed down from the rail, still watching the kethel with hostility. Chime scooted over to make room and Shade came to sit behind Moon.

Kethel watched this with curiosity, but said nothing.

Niran turned deliberately to Delin. “What does this have to do with the Fell striking at the Reaches, grandfather?”

Delin said, “Just that I think it isn’t the rumors of the artifact from the foundation builder city which has caused this. It may have been the catalyst, when word reached the other Fell of the flight that had been destroyed in pursuit of it. But the Fell must have been attributing their decline to the Raksura for some time. Fell do not seem to exchange information with each other with much frequency, and ideas must spread between flights very slowly. But if I have noticed the Raksuran potential for breeding the progenitors’ control out of the Fell, surely the progenitors have as well.”

Still watching the kethel warily, Rorra said, “Whatever the cause, it’s the artifact we have to worry about at the moment.”

Then Kethel said, “Where do they take it?”

Moon glanced up at Stone, who shrugged and looked out over the plain. He read that as Stone not being able to think of any particular objection to sharing this information with the kethel. Moon couldn’t think of any reason not to either. He said, “We don’t know. And we’re not sure if they know. The person who was probably going to help them figure it out died in that river trading town.”

Kethel didn’t respond, but moved to the railing, squinting as the cold wind gusted across the deck.

Chime hunched his shoulders, obviously still uneasy at the kethel’s part in the conversation. He said, “The Hians have to have some idea. They didn’t just head off at random. But if we’re lucky, it’s the wrong idea.”

Kalam said, “Perhaps Vendoin spoke more to Callumkal than she did to you and Bramble. When he wakes—I’m sure he will wake—He can tell us more.”

Faced with Kalam’s hopeful expression, Moon tried to look like he thought this was a real possibility. But he saw Rorra look away toward the rail, her face creased with worry.

It was a relief when Merit and Lithe came out of the belowdecks hatch. At least until Moon saw their expressions.

Chime sat up, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Merit said, “Lithe and I had a vision.” He glanced at her. “Not a joint one, but still . . .”

Lithe’s expression was distressed. “The details were different, but it was the same central image. Metal buildings on a cold sea, so cold it made ice, like the top of a tall mountain. At least that’s what I thought it was.”

“That’s what you saw before,” Chime said to Merit. “Back home, in the joint vision with Heart and Thistle. Isn’t it?”

Merit nodded. “I thought it was a city. But this time I could tell it was a huge boat, a water ship, like the sunsailer but much bigger.”

Lithe let her breath out. “In those early visions, there was an image of a stone city in the clouds. We think now that was the foundation builder city in the escarpment. The feel of something powerful waiting must have been the artifact.”

“This water ship must be up here somewhere,” Merit added, making a gesture toward the plains below the wind-ship. In the distance, another flock of wingless birds rode the wind. “It must be where the Hians are going.”

Moon pushed to his feet and stepped to the rail. It was cold enough now for frost to collect on the tall grass patchworked across the rocky plain, and it glittered in the sunlight.

They must be approaching the cold sea from the mentors’ visions.

They spotted another ruin in the late afternoon, this one just a huge, partial circle of metal standing on its side, mounted in a stone base, with weather-worn designs embossed into what was left of the rim. It was so tall, the wind-ship could have brushed the top with its hull.

Leaning over the rail, Moon saw where the missing section of the rim had fallen, its outline still visible as a raised sickle-shape in the soil and grass.

“Are you certain that isn’t where they went?” Diar asked. She made a gesture. “It looks strange enough.”

Rorra lowered the distance-glass. “There’s no sign of their craft,” she said, but she didn’t look entirely satisfied with that. She turned away from the rail. “Better have Dranam check the moss again.”

Chime came to stand by Moon, squinting at the structures at the ruin’s feet. “It doesn’t look like it was made by the forerunners. It looks more like that building that was stuck in the middle of the forerunner ruin.”

But Dranam reported that the moss still showed movement, and the wind-ship sailed on. By evening they had seen four more similar ruins off in the distance, but the moss said the Hians had passed them all by.

They spent a chilly night, and finished off the dressed meat that the Opal Night warriors had stored away in the hold. It wasn’t as good as fresh, but the cold had helped keep it from rot. Stone took a portion to the kethel up on the deck. Bramble and some of the groundling crew had made a shelter for it behind the stern cistern, with some blankets and a tarp waterproofed with mountain-tree sap. Kethel seemed bemused by this gesture, but hadn’t hesitated to crawl inside.

As the dawn light gradually grew brighter, Moon got his first glimpse of the cold sea.

It stretched out from a shore concealed under a coating of snow. The low waves carried chunks of ice and had built a white wall along the water’s edge, so tall it was hard to tell if it was made entirely of ice, or if something else lay beneath it. The water washed against small ice-covered islands that spiraled out from the shore in a pattern that didn’t look natural. Moon wondered what the ice and snow concealed, if the islands were pylons for a broken causeway, or foundations for long-gone structures.

In the bow, the freezing wind pulled at Moon’s hair and stole the breath from his lungs. Even without their scales, Raksura weren’t as susceptible to the cold as other soft-skinned groundlings, but he was glad of the Islander shirt over his other clothes. He was used to snow and ice in the valleys and slopes at the top of mountains, not on flat terrain, and the strangeness of it was unnerving. There was no scent of salt in the air, so it must be a freshwater sea.

He heard Jade’s claws scrape the deck behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and he leaned back into her warmth. “Be careful,” she said, “you don’t want to get a lung sickness.”

“I think that’s going to be the least of our problems,” Moon said, keeping his voice low.

Niran stamped out of the hatch, wrapped up in a blanket. He surveyed the cold blue water in horror, muttered a curse, then turned to stamp toward the steering cabin. “Diar!”

They gathered just outside the open wall of the steering cabin, watching Dranam tease more information out of the moss. Chime sat on the deck, helping to hold the chart that Diar was drawing. Kalam and Dranam didn’t seem much bothered except by the wind, but the Golden Islanders were feeling the cold, even bundled up in all their extra clothes. They looked so uncomfortable, River actually stepped back and spread his wings to help block the wind. Delin had tried to come out on deck twice so far, and been unceremoniously bundled back below by the nearest Islander.

Lithe slipped up beside Moon, and he put an arm around her. Rorra shivered, her face pinched with cold, and Moon remembered that her clothes had always been much heavier than the Kish-Jandera’s. She stood next to Stone, leaning on him.

“I wanted to make certain before I told you,” Dranam said, “but the Hians are slowing down. I think we’re only a few hours behind them at most. I can’t be more exact.”

Jade sat on her heels to look and for once Dranam didn’t try to unobtrusively edge away. Jade’s claw tapped the point Diar had marked on the mostly empty chart. “Can you show me how far this is? Compared to how far we’ve come.”

Diar leaned forward to point. “It’s about as far as it was from the ruin to this point here, where that big waterfall was.”

Watching thoughtfully, Stone said, “We can reach that.”

Jade nodded and pushed to her feet. “I think it’s time we flew ahead.”