The Harbors of the Sun

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It would be a long flight in cold weather, so they made some quick preparations first. Jade told everyone to eat, so they had some dried fruit and fish paste from the boat’s stores. Moon finished eating before the warriors and went to find his pack where it was stored in the sleeping cabin. He was bringing some food, a knife, a waterskin, flints, and a couple of extra blankets. Rorra was preparing some of the smaller fire weapons for the warriors to carry.

Kalam came in with a small pile of folded cloth. “Moon, please take these with you. For you or the others, or Jade, when she takes her smaller form.”

“Are you sure?” Moon asked, as Kalam sat on the floor beside him. “Don’t you need them?”

Kalam made a negative gesture. “Our clothes are mainly for show. Merit used some pots to make heat in the cabins for the Islanders, and they say they have enough blankets and clothing to stay warm.”

If the Raksura had to spend the night on one of those ice islands, more clothing to wrap up in wouldn’t hurt. Moon took the pile to hand out to the warriors, and asked, “Callumkal?”

“I think he’s better.” Kalam smiled a little wryly. “I know I keep saying that, but he swallowed water on his own and squeezed my hand. Ivar-edel thinks the poisons may be wearing off.”

“That’s good.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then Kalam reached over and squeezed Moon’s arm. “Be careful.”

Moon said, “We’ll try.” There wasn’t anything else to say.

Kalam left and Chime, Briar, and Saffron came in to make their own preparations. Bramble followed Jade, saying, “I know I could help. I know all about the Hians now. And I—”

“No,” Jade said. She took Bramble by the shoulders and said, “We don’t know what we’ll find and I don’t want to risk you. It’s bad enough that we have to bring Merit, but we may need both mentors.”

Bramble sagged in defeat. Then Root slammed into the cabin and demanded, “Why not me? I’m a better flyer than Chime, and I’ve been to more places than them.” He made a gesture toward Briar and Saffron. Briar, pulling on a borrowed Jandera jacket, turned and stared at him, startled. Saffron’s expression was already verging on the homicidal.

Chime was more shocked than offended and Bramble snarled. Moon hissed in reflex, too startled to do anything else. Root knew better than to speak to Jade like that.

Jade looked down at Root, her spines starting to spread and lift. Her voice hard, she said, “You’ve got your own behavior to blame for that. I can’t use a warrior who won’t obey.”

“I should be there.” Root barred his teeth. “I want to—”

Jade’s spines flared and she suddenly had Root pinned against the wall beside the door, her hand curled around his throat. He shifted to groundling, staring up at her, his eyes wide.

Briar and Saffron twitched back a step, Bramble flinched, and Chime made a squeak of alarm. Jade ignored them all, and said evenly, “Root, you need to think very carefully about your behavior, because I will not tolerate this.”

After a long moment, Root dropped his gaze and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jade released her grip and moved back. “Go be sorry somewhere else.”

Root slipped out of the room. Saffron turned and busied herself with her pack while Chime and Briar stared uncomfortably at each other. Moon controlled a surge of fury; it was every Raksura in the eastern Reaches and beyond they were fighting for, but Root didn’t understand that. Maybe it was too much to get his head around and he was using Song as an excuse not to try. Whatever it was, they didn’t have time for it. He asked Jade, “Are you all right?”

She settled her spines. “It’s fine. We need to go.”

They took flight, following Dranam’s directions. As one of the stronger fliers, Moon kept to the back of the group, watching to make sure the warriors didn’t have any trouble with the harsh gusts of wind. He also wanted to keep an eye on the kethel, who trailed them at a distance. In a way it was a relief that it was following them. Moon wouldn’t have wanted to leave it on the boat with the groundlings and Bramble, with only the warriors left behind to guard them.

Before they left, Chime had said, “I’m hoping the Hians just stop out there. Maybe their moss will quit working, or they’re lost and wandering.”

Moon nodded, checking the fastening on his pack. “Sure.”

Chime sighed, his shoulders slumping. “But you don’t think so.”

No, Moon didn’t think so.

Jade had spoken last to Niran, Rorra, and Delin, telling them, “If it happens, if we don’t stop them, I think you’ll know immediately.”

She meant that the Raksura still onboard and the Jandera would drop dead. Moon was trying not to think about that. Just the idea made him want to minutely examine every sensation in his body, wondering if that was it or not. That was a quick way to drive yourself mad.

Delin stepped forward and took her hands, wrapping his soft-skinned fingers around her claws, and looked up at her. He said, “If it happens, we will not stop. We will take the artifact from them and find a way to destroy it.”

Niran had grimly agreed but Rorra had said, “It won’t happen. You’ll catch them.”

Moon hoped she was right.

The wind was rough at first, whisking away any warming effect that the bright sunlight on Moon’s scales might have. Lithe was being carried by Shade and Merit by Briar. Moon hoped they weren’t suffering too much in the cold; being carried was never easy but it was worse in bad weather.

Below them, the icy islands were further apart, but still seemed to form a loose spiral, if Moon wasn’t just seeing a pattern in a random arrangement. If it was really there, maybe the Hians had followed it to their destination, whatever it was.

As they flew, the islands grew more frequent and closer together. The larger ones were still surrounded by ice but shards and slopes of black rock were visible. They looked as cold and inhospitable as it was possible to be, but at least they were a place to land in an emergency.

It was late afternoon when Stone suddenly banked and turned aside. He’s spotted it, Moon thought, his heart starting to pound. Jade signaled the warriors to follow and they curved down toward a cluster of islands. Moon circled once, trying to glimpse what Stone had seen. He couldn’t make out the small flying boat but far ahead, there was a large gray shape on the water.

The others had gathered on an island, the warriors perched on the sharp columns of ice. Stone, shifted to groundling, stood on the gentlest slope with Jade. Moon rode a tricky draft down to the rocks below the slope and scrambled up to join them.

As he shook the icy spray off his wings, Jade said to Stone, “We can’t afford to wait until dark. We have to get closer, see what we’re dealing with.”

Stone squinted into the wind. He wore an extra jacket over his own clothes that Moon recognized as one of Rorra’s. “If we stay low, jump from island to island, we’ll have a better chance of not being seen.”

Moon flinched at a crunch near the waterline, but it was the kethel in groundling form. It climbed up to the rock just below the slope and waited expectantly.

Jade sighed. She told Stone, “You—and that—are the ones the Hians are most likely to spot. You’ll have to go high, up to cloud level, and wait for us to signal you.”

Stone grimaced but didn’t disagree. The kethel said, “Groundlings never think to look up that high.”

Everyone stared at it. Jade’s spines lifted. Moon shared a look with Stone, who sighed and wiped the ice crystals off his face. Jade hissed. “Fine, let’s go.”

A large wave hit the other side of the island and cold water filled with ice flecks rained down.

Bramble leaned on the bow, wrapped in one of Kalam’s extra jackets, trying to urge the wind-ship to go faster. After days and days of being trapped on the flying boat, she found it hard to stay in the cabins. She kept falling asleep and waking in a panic, thinking she was still in a cage. Even though the light woven walls were nothing like the flying boat’s moss, and the scents were all of Raksura and familiar groundlings mixed with their strange kethel companion, it was still uncomfortable. She hoped she could get over it, but until then the deck was better, even with cold sharp wind and the strange icy sea.

She was so lost in her own thoughts it took her a long moment to realize that Root stood nearby. She slid a look at him, not pleased to see him. She was furious at the way he had spoken to Jade.

Trying to change a queen’s mind about something was one thing; it was practically an Arbora’s duty. But for a warrior to challenge a queen, and at a time like this . . .

She knew he was upset about Song. But so was everyone else.

As if her simmering anger had actually penetrated his thick skull, he said, “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” Bramble snapped. “People die, Root, and sometimes it’s like losing a limb. It always hurts and you never forget.” As if any of them had ever forgotten about Petal and Shell and Branch and all the others killed in the Fell attack on the eastern colony. “But the court has to come first. We’re fighting for all the courts in the Reaches and the east, and a bunch of Jandera groundlings in Kish, though none of them know it. If you can’t understand that, then you’re useless and you should fly off and become a solitary.”

There was a long silence, then Root said, “They don’t care because Song argued with Jade—You and Merit ripped her up because—”

Bramble turned on him with a snarl. He flared his spines. She took a deliberate step closer and said, coldly, “Think twice about that.”

A fight between them would be a disaster. Bramble didn’t want to think about what it would do to Jade, who would have to take the responsibility with Pearl. Stone would never speak to Bramble again. The entire court would be upset and there was no way she would be allowed to clutch with Moon. But Bramble had been helpless and poisoned and frightened for days and if Root touched her it would be a fight she intended to win.

A thump on the deck made them both twitch, then someone said, “Just what the shit is going on here?”

Root fell back a step and Bramble hissed out a breath. It was Spark, a female Opal Night warrior, and Flicker, Shade’s favorite. Spark stepped up to Root. She was bigger than he was, Balm’s size, and muscular across the shoulders in a way that seemed to follow the Opal Night bloodline.

Root barred his teeth at her, but his spines quivered with the urge to drop. “It’s none of your concern. We’re not part of your court.”

Spark tilted her head. “Oh, it is my concern. If you saw a belligerent warrior threatening an Arbora, you’d just stand there and watch?”

Flicker took Bramble’s wrist and tugged her over to his side. Flicker said, “We just chased the groundlings that stole her all across the Three Worlds, and you want to hurt her?”

Root fell back a step and dropped his spines. “I wouldn’t hurt her!”

Flicker hissed in disbelief. “That’s not what it looked like.”

Bramble set her jaw against a well of emotion. She wanted to curl up in a corner and wail. She knew it was her fault, that she shouldn’t have let it go this far. She had failed her court as a sensible Arbora. She choked out, “It’s my fault.”

“It is not,” Flicker said.

Spark lifted her spines as a signal for quiet. Bramble held her breath. In the absence of a queen, the largest female warrior was in charge, and Spark would have been perfectly justified in beating Root senseless for threatening an Arbora. Bramble had lost her control over the situation when she had lost her own temper. All she could do was try to talk Spark out of it.

But Spark didn’t attack. Eyeing Root critically, she said, “Go inside and get some rest.”

Bramble let out her breath in relief. Fortunately for Root, the Opal Night warriors all seemed to be a fairly calm group.

Root, who finally seemed to understand that he had gone too far, took a step toward the doorway. He protested, “I’m on watch.”

“And you’re doing such a brilliant job of it,” Flicker said. He glanced out at the water. “You haven’t even looked at—Wait, what’s that?”

Bramble turned, following Flicker’s gaze. Arbora eyes weren’t as sharp as warriors’ at long distances, but the movement caught her attention. Something was alive on one of the rocky little ice islands. A figure stood there.

Root flung himself at the rail. “It’s one of the others, they’re hurt—”

“No!” Spark caught him by the frills and kept him from leaping off the boat. “The wind was pushing them to the west when they left. That’s someone else.”

“You’re right.” Flicker perched up on the rail, squinting into the wind. “It looks like a groundling.”

Bramble turned and bolted for the steering cabin. “Niran! Diar!”

Bramble waited at the rail, trying to remember not to scrape at the deck with her claws. The wind pulled at her frills as Diar brought the wind-ship to a halt. Not far ahead, Spark and Flicker circled above the island, taking a closer look at the groundling who stood there. Flash was still up on the look-out post atop the tallest mast, on watch in case it was a trick. Spark had ordered Root to keep watch in the stern, and he had actually obeyed. Maybe the almost-fight had brought him back to his senses a little.

Bramble thought the presence of the groundling might be a trick. She had recognized the figure as the wind-ship had drawn closer, and it was either a trick or she was having some kind of hallucination.

Rorra came up beside her with a distance-glass. As she lifted it to study the island, Bramble said, “It’s Vendoin, isn’t it.”

Rorra lowered the glass. Her mouth was a grim line. “Yes. And she’s not armed.” Despite the wind, Bramble caught a trace of her communication scent, and filtered it out. It was a sure sign that Rorra was worried. The only sign, since Rorra kept her expression hard.

The island was just a rock, washed by ice-filled waves. There was no place to hide anything that Bramble could see. Vendoin wore only the light tunic that Hians seemed to prefer; there was no way to conceal even a small fire weapon in it.

Niran stepped up behind them, watching the scene with a frown. “Perhaps the small moss-craft fell, and the survivors washed up here.”

Rorra shook her head. “The current’s wrong for that. And Dranam would have seen the change in direction.”

Spark must have been satisfied it wasn’t a trick, because she dove on the island and snatched up Vendoin. She rose on the wind again, Flicker pacing her.

Rorra and Niran backed away from the rail to allow them room to land. Niran said, “Bramble, go to the main cabin, please. Tell the others we’ll bring her in down there. I don’t want Kalam to be startled.”

Everyone who wasn’t steering the wind-ship or tending to Callumkal had gathered in the main cabin, waiting for the warriors to return with the castaway. Bramble reached the hatch in one bound and hurried down the stairs. She shifted to her groundling form in the doorway.

Delin sat on a stool, bundled up in several layers of Islander robes and shirts. Kalam paced in front of the stove. All the Islanders were wrapped up in extra clothes, though the room felt warm to Bramble. Everyone turned expectantly to her, and she said, “It’s Vendoin.”

Kalam’s jaw set in a hard line. He still had a small fire weapon slung over his shoulder; a wise precaution for groundlings in a strange place. Bramble said, “Kalam, are you going to . . .” She didn’t know how to put it without sounding insulting or condescending.

But he folded his arms and said, grimly, “I’m anxious to hear what she says.”

From his stool, Delin told him, “I have listened to her for days on end, and I can tell you it will be a frustrating experience.”

One of the Islanders snorted a laugh, and there was a relieved stir as the tension broke. Bramble felt the tightness across her shoulders ease a little.

Steps sounded from the stairs, light Raksura steps and the clunk of Rorra’s boots. Then Spark pulled Vendoin into the room. Spark let her go and shook ice drops out of her spines. Vendoin stepped away from Spark, stumbling a little, as Niran and Rorra followed her in.

Vendoin gazed around at them all. She appeared to note Bramble and Delin without reaction. The gray skin between the rock-like armor plates was pale and tinged with blue, which must be a reaction to the cold. The light tunic she wore was torn and stained. She said, “So, you did follow us. I—” Then her gaze met Kalam’s, and the words seemed to catch in her throat.

The room was silent. Rorra watched Vendoin intently, as if reading expressions that Bramble couldn’t interpret. The deck creaked and Bramble felt the wind-ship move. It was fighting the wind to continue on its course.

As if the faint sound and movement had broken a spell, Kalam said, “My father still lives, despite what you did to him.”

Vendoin drew breath. “It was not my intention—”

“I don’t care,” Kalam interrupted. There was a faint quiver in his voice. “Why were you on that island? Where are the other Hians?”

Vendoin looked at Niran and Rorra, her attention passing over Bramble. As usual. Bramble managed not to roll her eyes and hiss.

Niran said, “Obviously the Raksura don’t abandon their own, and neither do we. We couldn’t have followed you here without their help.” He made a gesture to the other Islanders. “I am Niran, and these others are my family, and Delin-Evran-lindel is our grandfather.”

Vendoin’s gaze went to Delin. “You will not believe me, but I was taken from my moss-craft.”

“We believe you,” Rorra said, still watching her critically. Her self-control was almost queen-like, and Bramble found herself grateful for it. Rorra added, “We found it, and what was left of the crew. You seem to be making a habit of abandoning ships in distress.”

“I wasn’t the one who killed them,” Vendoin said, still expressionless.

Bramble felt a growl build in her chest. Deliberately, in the Hian-inflected Kedaic, she said, “I told them it was hardly a surprise. You Hians aren’t like the other Kish. You’re uncivilized.” She had meant to sound ironic, but found her voice rough with rage.

Vendoin turned to stare at her. “How long have you known our language?”

“Bramble is not here to answer your questions,” Rorra said. “Did your companions drop you on the island because of your charm, or did they just not need you anymore?”

Vendoin looked around again, as if taking stock of them all. Fragments of ice slid down her legs to collect on the woven grass mat on the deck. Rorra said, “It’s up to you whether you tell us or not. We have a horticultural tracking your moss and the others have already caught up with the pinnace.”

Vendoin made a slight movement, maybe so slight the groundlings wouldn’t see it. To Bramble’s eyes, it looked like a movement of relief. Vendoin said, “I refused to cooperate with Lavinat. I assume Bramble has told you about her.”

Rorra said, “Yes, go on.”

“When I took the weapon-artifact from—from you, aboard the sunsailer, I did not realize what its abilities were. How flawed it was.”

Delin said, dryly, “Even the fragmentary writings the foundation builders left said that the artifact was flawed beyond their ability to repair. They left it for the forerunners, hoping they could render it useful. The fact that it was still inside the city is proof enough that the forerunners never came for it. We are not fools, and kindly do not treat us as children. You knew it was flawed and you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t know that it would kill Jandera.” Vendoin’s voice was hard, but Bramble thought she detected a faint tremor underneath. Then Vendoin admitted, “I knew it was a possibility.”

Rorra glanced at Kalam, her expression sour. He looked incredulous. He said, “A ‘possibility.’ How many other species, how many other species in Kish, does it kill?”

“It kills Hians,” Bramble said. She knew she was right. “It killed Aldoan, it killed the Hian scholar and her family. That’s what made you afraid.”

Vendoin didn’t look at her, but the muscles of her neck tightened. “Lavinat insisted that it was the operation of the weapon that caused Aldoan to die. That it was not meant to be held by a living being, that it was the close presence of the Fell that had caused it to operate. She said the Fell killed the scholar. Bemadin and I were not convinced. But many of Lavinat’s crew were aboard and we found it politic to pretend to accept that explanation, at least until we had more information. We never dreamed—” She stopped, cutting off the words.

“You never dreamed she would betray you,” Kalam finished. “If my father was conscious, I’m sure he would say the same about you.”

After a moment, as if Kalam hadn’t spoken, Vendoin continued, “We believed that the weapon would eliminate the Fell in the east. If it worked, we could leave Hia Iserae and return to Hia Majora. We could go home. That was our only goal. My only goal.” She looked away, her gaze on the wall. “I and others had worked for a long time for this, even before I joined Callumkal in Kedmar, ever since the message stones that described the weapon were uncovered in the foundation builder ruins buried beneath Hia Iserae. Lavinat had also worked on it. When she betrayed us she admitted that she had concealed things from the rest of us, that there had been warnings that the artifact could cause terrible damage.”

Delin’s expression was disbelieving. “And yet she still intends to use it? Has she lost her senses?”

Vendoin’s mouth curled. “She believes it is worth it, to destroy the Fell. She believes that some of our people still in Hia Iserae, in our cities sheltered by layers of rock, will survive. That it is worth the sacrifice of those who live in other parts of Kish and the east, or are caught out without shelter.”

Bramble met Kalam’s gaze, and he shook his head incredulously. The Islanders murmured in shock. Niran’s expression was appalled.

Hard and practical, Rorra asked, “How did you know where to take the artifact?”

“Lavinat had a map, found in one of the message stones that she concealed from us.”

“The map led you to the ruin on the coast,” Niran said.

“Lavinat attempted to use the weapon, and it caused the . . . transition here.” Vendoin looked around again. “The existence of this place was a surprise.”

Rorra grimaced. “How does this Lavinat know where to go now?”

“She said the artifact was telling her where to go.”

A chill went up Bramble’s back. Niran said, “Is she right? Or is it delusion?”

Vendoin said, “I don’t know. When I said I wouldn’t help her, she abandoned me on the rocks.”

Rorra eyed Vendoin. “If you can’t help us anymore, what should we do with you?”

Bramble thought it was another prod to make Vendoin talk more. But Kalam answered immediately, “Put her back on the island.”

Vendoin said, “No. Lavinat let me look at the writings she brought with her, the ones she couldn’t interpret. I was able to understand some of it, but I withheld the information from her.” Her gaze met Rorra’s. “I can tell you how to stop the artifact.”