The Harbors of the Sun

CHAPTER EIGHT

The new dose of poison seemed even worse, and Bramble was only vaguely conscious for a time. When she began to fully wake, miserably sick again, she decided it was time to implement her plan. They had no guarantee that Vendoin would keep her promise, and Bramble felt it would be better strategy to force the issue.

Merit leaned over her. “Bramble?”

She whispered to him, “Pretend I’m sick, like you have to take care of me.”

He frowned blearily and put a hand on her forehead. “You are sick.”

She groaned for effect and pushed his hand away. “Don’t try to put me in a healing sleep, you idiot.” She didn’t think he could do it under the effect of the Fell poison, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“You said take care—Right, right, I get it,” Merit grumbled, and crawled away to the water container.

It took most of the day, while Merit begged the Hians above their cage for help and Bramble groaned and made gagging noises. Merit’s voice grew increasingly frustrated and weary, and parts of Bramble’s body went numb from lying down so long. By the time Aldoan finally appeared in the late evening, Bramble was ready to groan for real.

Peering down through the mesh covering, Aldoan told Merit, “You are a healer. Why can’t you help her?”

“The Fell poison. It hasn’t worn off yet and it stops me from healing her. And I don’t have anything to make a simple for her.” Merit leaned against the wall, his slump of exhaustion convincing because most of it was real. The Hians had lowered a basket of food a while ago but neither of them had eaten. It was fruit and some bread-like stuff, not very tempting, even if they weren’t both nauseous.

There was a long silence, then Aldoan walked away. Merit slid down to sit on the floor, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “It didn’t work,” he said in Raksuran.

Bramble groaned. She thought they still had a chance, but she didn’t want to wreck it by talking.

After what seemed a long wait, Aldoan returned, and said, “We will take her to our physician.”

Merit, sitting beside Bramble, squeezed her wrist in triumph.

Bramble staggered and stumbled down the hall, forcing one of the Hians to guide and help her. With her eyes half-closed she noted the sequence of corridors and stairs along the way. They led her into a cabin two levels above their cage and deposited her on a padded bench. Bramble fell over and curled up as the Hians retreated. She heard them take positions just outside the doorway.

A Hian leaned over her and said in slow, careful Altanic, “I am a physician. I will try to make you well.”

Bramble tried to look both frightened and hopeful. She didn’t want to seem so sick that she couldn’t recover quickly if that seemed a more effective strategy.

To the Hian healer’s credit, she felt Bramble’s stomach and looked into her eyes and mouth, and seemed to be actually trying to figure out if she was injured anywhere, or if she showed signs of more serious sickness. Finally she said, “It may be internal distress from the mixtures you have been given. I will make a new mixture which should help.”

Bramble watched her sort through some small wooden and glass containers in an untidy heap on the workbench. Bowls of plain brown pottery, a pestle, and some tiny cups meant for measuring lay there too. A door in the wall was open to another attached room, and it seemed to contain most of the healer’s supplies, still in wrapped bundles or stacked in light wooden boxes. Above the pile, several waterskins hung from pegs in the wall. Bramble tasted the air but there were too many acrid mixed scents to identify individual odors. The skins were labeled in a language she couldn’t read, but whatever they contained was in large portions, unlike the jars the healer sorted through now. Bramble memorized each label.

The healer stepped away from her workbench and slid the door to the other room shut, cutting off Bramble’s view. Then she brought the draft. Bramble decided there might still be more to learn here, and she flatly refused to drink it.

Steps sounded in the corridor, and she heard the Hians on watch shuffle away from the door. Then she heard Vendoin’s voice.

Speaking Kedaic, Vendoin asked the healer, “Is she truly ill?”

“Yes, I think so,” the healer replied in the same language. “Too much of the drug, perhaps, causing stomach pain. She has no difficulty breathing—”

Vendoin cut that off. “Give her a draft for it.”

“What does it matter?” Bemadin asked.

Bramble managed not to react. That would have quashed any doubts that the Hians eventually intended to kill them, if she had had any.

Vendoin ignored Bemadin. “Well?” she asked the healer.

“I’m trying,” the healer said, with what sounded to Bramble like carefully forced patience. “She won’t take it. Perhaps if the other one could be brought—”

“No, it’s too much of a risk,” Vendoin interrupted again. There was no mention of Vendoin’s promise to let them out of the cage if they took the second dose of poison willingly, which wasn’t a surprise.

“I can’t make her take it,” the healer said. She must have seen something in Vendoin’s manner that told her that answer wasn’t acceptable. She said, “Perhaps she would take it from the Janderan.”

Vendoin made a noise that Bramble interpreted as derision. “He has refused to help us so far.”

“I don’t understand these people,” Bemadin said. “This will save uncounted lives. It’s a risk to us more than to the Jandera.”

Obviously they weren’t speaking of giving Bramble a simple anymore. Her heart beat faster with the knowledge that she might be about to find out why the Hians had betrayed the expedition. But then Vendoin said impatiently, “They don’t understand. I need to get back to work on the translation.”

Vendoin and Bemadin were leaving. Bramble sat up on one elbow and, making her voice weak and hoarse and as pitiful as possible, said in Altanic, “You promised if we took the poison willingly, we could help Delin. Please let me see Delin.”

In Kedaic, Vendoin said, “Very well. Take her to the easterner’s prison. Perhaps it will make him more cooperative.” She added in Altanic, “They will take you to Delin, Bramble.”

“And Merit?” Bramble said, feeling as if her gambit had gone terribly awry.

“No, just you,” Vendoin said, and she and Bemadin walked away.

Bramble hesitated. She didn’t want to be separated from Merit. Particularly after forming the theory that Vendoin might want to test the artifact on Raksura before she went off to find Fell. But she had to take the chance.

Bramble drank the draught, to the Physician’s relief, and slowly climbed to her feet. Aldoan and the other armed Hians led her away down the corridor.

Trying to remember to sound weak despite her urgency, Bramble asked Aldoan, “Will you tell Merit I’m with Delin? I don’t want him to think—To be afraid I—”

Aldoan seemed uncomfortable, but said, “I’ll tell him.”

Seizing the moment, Bramble said, “I’m just afraid Merit will be lonely. We’re not meant to be alone.”

Aldoan tried to be reassuring, though it was clear she didn’t believe her own words. “You will not be far away. Perhaps Vendoin will let us take you to visit him.”

They reached Delin’s cage, which was an interior room with a door that had been reinforced with metal strips. Two Hians stood outside.

Delin was happy to see Bramble, and anxiously helped her sit on the padded bench. Once Aldoan was gone and the door locked again, she told him in Raksuran, “I’m not really sick, it’s just the poison again. I wanted to get to you, but I had to leave Merit alone.” Guilt stung at her like biting insects. She didn’t know what Merit would think when they didn’t bring her back. She hoped Aldoan kept her word and told him what had happened.

Delin patted her hand. “Merit will surely understand. Perhaps we can agitate for him to be brought here as well.”

Maybe he was right. Vendoin had seemed to give into her on a whim; maybe all Bramble had to do was ask at the right moment. At least this cage was better. It had padded benches against two walls, and a cabinet with a basin inside, drying cloths, and a container for a latrine. The Hians had also given Delin some writing materials, which was more than they had given Bramble and Merit. Bramble thought one of the pens might make a stabbing weapon for a groundling, but with the Hians’ armored skin, it probably wouldn’t do much but antagonize them. If they let the poison wear off, then Bramble would have her claws, but that wouldn’t do much against a Kishan fire weapon.

They had also given Delin far more water and he said it was changed twice a day, so the first thing Bramble did was use a wet cloth to give herself a quick bath. As she scrubbed under her shirt, she said, “I heard Vendoin and Bemadin talking. They want Callumkal to help them with something, but he won’t.”

Delin’s brow furrowed. “You heard no more details?”

“Only that it would save uncounted lives, but it’s a risk, mostly to the Hians? And Vendoin was working on a translation of something, she didn’t say what.” She wrung the cloth out. “They didn’t ask you?”

“No. Not yet.” Delin threaded his fingers through his beard, something he did when he was thinking. “I wish I knew why they took me, then, if they didn’t mean to make me help them. Perhaps Vendoin changed her mind, at some point? Or could there be another reason.”

“Delin . . .” Bramble’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what they want?”

Delin hesitated for a long moment, and Bramble could read guilt in his expression, even without spines. He said finally, “I fear so.”

Bramble sat down on a stool so he didn’t have to look up at her. “You know so.”

Delin’s mouth twisted as he hesitated. He said reluctantly, “On the sunsailer, when all were resting and Vendoin was in the steering cabin, I looked through the translations that she had done from the inscriptions in the city. I did not trust her and I felt she might be lying. I found one translation among her papers which was older, on a much worn paper, that she had clearly brought with her. It spoke of a hidden weapon, and a warning, an exhortation not to take it to the place where it can be used for it was ill-made and would destroy their children and allies as well as enemies.”

“A weapon. What weapon?” He met her gaze, and then Bramble knew. She shook her head. “Not the artifact. That can’t be it.”

It had lain in a chamber in the ruined foundation builder city, protected by spells designed to let only the forerunners, or their descendants, find it. It had drawn the Raksura to it, tricked them into bringing it to the sunsailer. From the spells on it they had known it was dangerous, that it was something that should have been buried in the city forever. They had planned to drop it into the ocean deeps. But then the Hians had come. Surely that’s not the weapon, Bramble thought, dismayed, we can’t be that unlucky.

Delin made a weary gesture. “There was no description, no way to make certain. But the artifact was so carefully guarded, to make sure no one but a foundation builder or forerunner’s descendent could reach it. I feared it was the case. And Bramble, forgive me, I feared to tell you and the other Raksura of it because I thought you might wish to use it against the Fell, and I thought it was best to heed the warning.”

His expression was so bleak, it frightened Bramble. “I don’t think we would have used it.”

“Perhaps.” Delin made a weary gesture. “Vendoin has not said why she betrayed us, but I think the artifact must be the reason. That she knew of it all along, and made use of Callumkal’s expedition to reach it. I believe she is taking it and us to this place where it can be used.”

It was bound to be another foundation builder city, and the thought made Bramble’s skin twitch. And she still didn’t understand Vendoin’s motives. “But they already have Kishan fire weapons. What makes this weapon so special?”

Delin shook his head helplessly. “A good question. The writing about the weapon said ‘destroy children and allies as well as enemies.’ Perhaps it creates a poison, or some other effect against those two species but no others?”

“So who are the ‘enemies and allies and children?’” This kind of story logic game was Bramble’s favorite when played around the hearth with other Arbora. Playing it in earnest wasn’t nearly so fun. “The allies could be the forerunners.” She hissed in dismay. “And we’re their children, Raksura and Fell.”

“It’s a strong possibility. Callumkal and many other Kishan scholars believe the Jandera and others native to the Kish lowlands are descended in some way from the foundation builders. This weapon might be used to kill half the inhabitants of Imperial Kish. If the goal is to use it against the Fell, then it would have to be used carefully.” Delin made a baffled gesture. “But again, the same could be said for Kishan fire weapons, which will kill just about anything they are pointed at.”

Bramble’s throat was dry. “Maybe they took me and Merit to test it on us. If it kills us, it’ll kill Fell.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Delin took her hand, and said, “I fear this, Bramble.”

South of Port Gwalish Mar

Chime sat atop the wind-ship’s cabin, taking his turn at watch. It was late afternoon, and they were flying over heavy jungle and rolling hills, the air humid and heavy. Finding the message cache from Moon and Stone had been a sharp moment of relief in the long days of tension and waiting, and he was still reveling in it. The certainty that they were going in the right direction, and the new moss sample to follow, had lightened the burden of everyone on the wind-ship.

Briar jumped up on the cabin roof to take his place, and Chime hopped to the deck to head down the stairs and into the main cabin.

River and Rorra were there, and she was saying, “We’re going faster than it seems. I’ve been calculating it and the flying island stones that this wind-ship uses to travel give it considerably more speed than a Kishan moss craft.”

Chime eyed River, reluctantly curious. It sounded as if River had actually expressed impatience over their progress. Chime still disliked River and always would, but River had tried to save Moon from the Fellborn queen and got his scales ripped open in the process. River saw Chime staring at him, sneered, and looked away. Chime snorted in derisive amusement, more as a reflex than anything else. It was the only way he and River ever interacted.

“Especially over land,” Rorra finished. She noticed Chime’s expression, looked from him to River and back, then shook her head. “And the Kishan say I’m hard to get along with.”

“That’s probably why you like us,” Chime told her. “Niran’s like that, too. Did Dranam say if they’re still going in the same direction?” He had missed the last check of the moss samples during his turn on watch.

“The moss is showing that both samples, the Hians, and Moon and Stone’s, are still heading toward the south.” Rorra frowned in frustration. “I just wish it showed what they were doing.”

Chime just hoped Moon and Stone hadn’t been led astray and that it was the right flying boat. Jade hadn’t exactly been pleased that the two consorts were continuing on alone instead of waiting for the wind-ship to catch up to them. Not pleased, but not exactly surprised, either. Chime felt the same way. There was no telling how Malachite felt.

Rorra said, “I’m going to see if Diar needs a break,” and went out, her boots clumping on the light wood of the stairs.

River turned to follow her, then hesitated. He looked at Chime and said, “Have you talked to Root lately?”

Chime had been so certain that River was about to insult him that it took him a long moment to understand what River had actually said. Wary of a trick, Chime said, “Uh, no. Why?”

River looked away, the still-raw scar from his injuries puckering the bronze groundling skin of his neck and collarbone. “He’s acting strange.”

Chime had a moment to realize it was odd that he hadn’t talked to Root. Root never seemed to be in the sleeping cabin when anyone else was, or when they gathered to eat or go over the maps with Rorra and Kalam and the Islanders. Whenever Chime came to eat, it seemed Root was always just leaving. He might be spending time with the Opal Night warriors, but . . . maybe not. “Did you tell Jade?”

River hissed impatiently. “She’s got enough to worry about.”

That was true. Chime said, “I’ll talk to him.”

River stamped out without an acknowledgement.

Chime rubbed his face and sighed. Root was still on watch now, and it would be better to catch him when he came in to rest.

It was depressing how days of anxious waiting and worry could make you just as exhausted as days of long-distance flying. He thought about making tea, or getting his writing materials out of his pack and taking some notes. But it was probably better to try to sleep while he could.

Some of the others were sleeping out on top of one of the sun-warmed cabin rooftops. But it reminded Chime too much of other trips with Moon, and just made his absence hurt more. He turned to go to the sleeping cabin instead.

Then from the deck above someone yelled, “Fell! Fell are coming!”

Already shifting, every nerve on edge, Chime bolted upstairs to the deck. He paused in the shelter at the top, but the sky was not full of kethel and dakti. Stepping out cautiously onto the deck, he found River and Rorra there with Jade, Balm, and Niran. More Golden Islanders stood near the rail, already armed with the small Kishan fire weapons. Rorra carried her weapon cradled in her arms. Kalam hurried out on deck, his own fire weapon slung across his back.

Chime couldn’t spot Fell anywhere. The sky was deep blue and laced with light clouds. In the green forest below, tall trees were wreathed with purple and blue flowering vines, with rocky outcrops emerging occasionally to tower over the foliage.

Sweep, perched on the rail, amended his warning to, “Some Fell are coming! Two Fell!”

Chime squinted and finally saw the two dark shapes approaching. River hissed and muttered, “Idiot.”

Chime agreed, but he wasn’t going to say so out loud, mostly because it would mean publicly agreeing with River.

The other Opal Night warriors gathered on the deck and atop the cabins. Shade came up from the stern and stood beside Chime. He was still in his groundling form but Chime was relieved to have him so solidly nearby.

Which was odd. If two turns ago someone had told Chime that a half-Fell Raksura would be a reassuring presence to him, he would have thought they were making an unfunny joke.

Then Jade said, “It’s the Fellborn queen, and a dakti.” She told Niran, “Don’t use the weapons.”

Niran turned to the young Islanders and snapped, “Put those things down. You hardly know how to use them.”

The Golden Islanders hadn’t used the Kishan fire weapons before, since it took a Jandera horticultural to keep them supplied with the moss they needed to work, and Kalam had said that horticulturals didn’t venture outside Kishan territory without permission from Kishan elders. Apparently Kalam had broken some rule by talking Dranam into coming with them. Niran and Diar had both been uneasy about it, but had finally agreed.

The young Golden Islanders stepped back and lowered the weapons, still uneasy.

“Why are they here?” Chime said, and tried to stop his spines from twitching nervously. “Just the two of them? Is it a trap?” He wanted to make absolutely certain everyone knew it could be a trap.

“They want help from us,” Jade said. She bared her teeth in distracted irritation. “Maybe they’re going to ask again.”

A thump on the deck so faint as to be nearly soundless made Chime flinch. It was Malachite, who must have been coiled up somewhere out of sight. She said, “Shade, go inside with Lithe. I don’t want them to see you yet.”

Shade stirred a little, but didn’t protest. He turned to go down below deck again. As Flicker started to follow him, Shade told him softly, “No, it’s all right, stay up here.”

Flicker came back to stand beside Chime, bouncing a little nervously.

The Fellborn queen circled down to land on an outcrop some distance from the boat, and the single dakti swept over her twice before it dropped down beside her.

Malachite stepped up onto the rail, her foot claws wrapping around the wood, her intention clear. Jade told her, “I’m coming with you.”

Balm said, “Not alone. Chime’s right, it could be a trap.”

Chime said hurriedly, “They know you and Malachite came out alone to talk to them before—”

Malachite said, “Bring some of your warriors, then,” and dropped off the railing.

Rise bounded up the stairs from the hold just in time to see her go. She hissed in exasperation. Jade leapt to the rail and told Rise, “Stay here, guard the boat. Balm, River, Chime, come with me.” Then she hesitated. “River, you can stay. Briar—”

As Chime followed Balm to the railing he remembered the last time River had seen the Fell queen she had been trying to gut him. Balancing on the rail, Chime made sure his spines weren’t flaring in nervous fear.

“No, I can do it,” River said quickly.

Jade flicked a spine in agreement and River leapt to the railing beside Balm and Chime.

Niran said, “We’ll stop and wait for you.”

Jade said, “Are you sure?” and Chime knew she was weighing the possibility of this being an attempt to attack the wind-ship versus an attempt to separate the queens and attack both them and the wind-ship at the same time.

Niran, obviously following this trail of thought, said, “We can’t out-fly them. It’s better to be stationary if we have to use these unnatural weapons.”

Chime saw Kalam grimace in irritation, but he didn’t argue. Kalam and Niran apparently disagreed on a lot of things you would think groundlings would agree on. Considering how long it had taken Niran to become reconciled to the existence of Raksura, Chime wasn’t surprised he had problems with Kishan too.

Jade acknowledged Niran’s statement with a spine lift. She told the warriors, “Don’t leave this boat, no matter what happens.”

There were spine twitches of assent all around, and Jade flung herself off the rail. Balm and River dove after her, and Chime braced himself and followed.

It was a short flight and within moments they were dropping down to land on the outcrop. Malachite and Jade faced the Fell queen and the dakti. River half-turned away where he could watch their backs and keep an eye on the wind-ship. Chime wished he had thought of that first. Then Balm gestured for him to move to Jade’s flank and he carefully eased into that position.

The Fell queen had shifted to a groundling form and looked less frightening than Chime was expecting, but maybe that was a product of all the time spent with Shade and Lithe. Jade had said her name was Consolation, an uneasy reminder of the poor consort who had given it to her. Thinking of Moon or any other consort Chime had ever known in that position made him shake with fury. She stared at them all curiously, and he found himself evading direct eye contact. He didn’t want his anger to antagonize her. Not until they found out what she wanted, anyway.

Malachite, staring at the Fell queen, said nothing. The dakti twitched uneasily and settled closer to Consolation’s feet. Jade was the one who spoke first. “What do you want here?”

“To warn you,” Consolation said. “The Fell are going to the Reaches. To kill Raksura.”

Chime froze, dread and rage gathering in his chest. Jade’s spines snapped to neutral. Balm hissed and River flinched. With her usual opaque calm, Malachite said, “Where in the Reaches?”

“I don’t know.” Consolation tried to step away from the dakti and it wrapped a clawed hand around her ankle. She told Malachite, “I know they know where a court is. They found it out from the same groundlings that knew about the old groundling city in the sea. They want to take it, and make the Raksura there tell them where the other courts are.”

Jade hissed out a breath and her spines started to lift. Horrified, Chime thought, It’s Indigo Cloud. It has to be. They knew the Fell had managed to influence a Kishan who had known about Callumkal’s trip to the foundation builder city. If that groundling had learned the direction that Callumkal’s flying boat had taken into the Reaches, the Fell could use that to find the Indigo Cloud colony tree.

Jade forced her spines down. “When are they—How many—”

Consolation’s brow furrowed, clearly aware how the news affected them. “Three flights, moving west now. But slowly, waiting for a fourth. Maybe more. Maybe two more.”

“How does she know?” Chime leaned toward Jade and whispered, “If she’s had contact with other Fell, do they know about us?”

Jade asked, “How do you know this?”

Consolation frowned at her, and frowned at Chime behind her, as if not pleased that he had thought to ask. Chime hissed and fought the urge to move behind Balm. Consolation said, “The two younger rulers can still hear them. The other Fell. They heard the call.” She added, looking at Chime, “The Fell don’t know you’re following the Hians. I think. I don’t know if they know.”

Malachite tilted her head. If she had looked at Chime like that, he would have flung himself down on the ground. Malachite said, “And why tell us?”

Consolation waved her arms. “Because we aren’t Fell. I don’t know what we are. But it’s not Fell.” She tossed her head, an odd gesture, not Raksuran or Fell, as if deliberately emphasizing her differences. “I want help. You can help us. I need to know things—”

Jade must have reached her limit. Her spines flared and she spat, “Help? Like you tried to get from my consort?”

Consolation flinched. Chime knew this was bad, that Jade should try to emulate the icy iron of Malachite’s calm. That this was Jade’s panic and fear coming out as anger and they didn’t have time for it. But he couldn’t help feeling a jolt of satisfaction at seeing the Fell queen flinch.

The dakti’s head turned to look up at Consolation, and it said, “I told you so.” Chime stared at it in astonishment. He had never heard a dakti speak in its own voice before and he had had no idea they could sound that . . . sensible.

“It was a mistake,” Consolation snapped.

Jade bared her fangs. “You make a lot of mistakes.”

Consolation hissed, “I know that!”

Then Malachite said, “Enough.”

Her tone made Chime recoil as if something had punched him in the chest. Jade twitched and Consolation froze, then stared warily at Malachite.

Malachite stepped forward and Consolation edged back, the dakti with her. Malachite said, “You came here with an offer. If you want our help in exchange for this information, I tell you it is not enough.” She bared her teeth and Chime felt all his spines involuntarily drop. “Your people have killed too many of us for that to be enough.”

“I know.” Consolation seemed to gather herself, and with obvious effort she lifted her head to meet Malachite’s hard gaze. “I offer swift travel. I have two kethel who can take you to the Reaches to warn the courts twice as fast as you can fly.”

Chime’s stomach wanted to turn at the thought. He had spent time in a sac while a Fell flight traveled and the stench still haunted his dreams. But if Consolation really meant it . . .

Malachite’s tail moved in a long slow thoughtful lash that was somehow more intimidating than a growl. “Not twice as fast as I can fly.”

“But without stopping,” Consolation said. “The kethel slow, the dakti fly down and hunt, and bring them food and water to eat on the wing, and then they fly fast again.”

Jade bared her teeth. “What kind of food?”

“Grasseaters!” Consolation glared at her. “The gleaners were a mistake. No more mistakes!” With a quick glance at Malachite, she added, “Besides, you’ll be there, to make sure we do it right.”

Jade looked at Malachite. Chime thought, it could work. If they could trust a Fellborn queen. If the whole thing wasn’t a trap. Malachite said, “And in return you want help. Instructions in how to lead your flight.”

Consolation tossed her head again. “From you, or someone. Anyone.” The dakti nudged her. “And a place. A place to live. A good one in the Reaches somewhere.” The dakti nudged her again and muttered inaudibly. She added, “There’s caves in trees there. Good ones. The consort told us that.”

Jade took a sharp breath, as if her first instinct was to refuse outright. Maybe her second instinct, too. But Chime could understand the impulse behind that request. Knowing something of what Moon had gone through before Stone had found him, he could understand it all too well. And he wondered if this had been a story Consolation’s consort sire had told, a fantasy of killing the progenitor and the other Fell and escaping back to the Reaches with his clutch, to find safety in some isolated mountain-tree. The consort was dead, but Consolation and the others must have held onto that fantasy.

And Chime couldn’t help the thought that if there was any queen powerful enough to make that happen, it was Malachite.

Malachite said, “We need to speak of this. Give us a moment.”

Consolation stared at her blankly, not understanding, until Jade said impatiently, “Go over there and let us talk alone.”

Consolation shifted and Chime managed not to hiss. She turned and spread her wings to hop down from the outcrop. The dakti scrambled in the loose rocks to follow her, clearly as afraid to be left alone with the Raksura as Chime would be with the Fell.

Malachite turned to Jade. “Celadon and her warriors will be at Indigo Cloud by now,” she said. “They and the rest of the Reaches will still need to be warned.”

The thought of all those Opal Night warriors at Indigo Cloud was the only thing that let Chime keep his fear in check. Balm reached over and squeezed his wrist, and River threw a worried glance at the queens.

Looking up at Malachite, Jade said, “Thank you.” Her spines moved in chagrin, and she added, “For thinking of sending the warriors. For talking Pearl into accepting Opal Night’s help.”

Malachite was still deep in thought, and didn’t twitch a spine. “You have my primary bloodline. Our courts are joined together, whether either of us likes it or not.”

“I like it.” Jade’s spines dipped, as if she was well aware she sounded awkward and defensive rather than grateful. “Should we take her offer? Can we believe her?”

“We can believe her.” Malachite stared into the distance and her tail moved a little. “The Fell have been stirred for turns by promises of weapons and magic in hidden forerunner cities.”

Jade grimaced in dismay. “Now they hear of Raksura helping groundlings to enter a sealed, ruined city.”

“They must think we have the weapon,” Chime finished her thought, the words out before he knew he was going to say them. Malachite turned the full intensity of her gaze on him and he forced himself not to twitch too violently. “The Fell went there hoping for a weapon. They must think we took it and that we’re going to use it on them.” Telling them that the Raksura didn’t have it, had no idea how to make it work, or even if it really was a weapon, wouldn’t help. Fell lied about everything and would hardly credit the idea that Raksura might be telling the truth.

Malachite’s attention returned to Jade. “As he says. I will take some of my warriors and go with the half-Fell to the Reaches, to warn Pearl and Celadon. You stay with the groundlings and find the Hians. I’ll leave you five warriors, and Shade and Lithe as well. Shade, in case there are forerunner doors that need to be opened, and Lithe, if you need a mentor to help find the Hians.”

And she doesn’t want the Fellborn queen to see them, Chime thought. He managed not to say it aloud.

Jade didn’t bare her teeth but from her tone Chime knew she wanted to. “What if it’s a trap?”

As if it was obvious, as if they were talking about whether the weather would be good for flying or not, Malachite said, “Then I’ll kill them all.”

Chime controlled a spine twitch and exchanged a glance with Balm. River seemed reluctantly impressed.

Malachite was already turning away to face the Fell queen.

“We’ve got to hurry, too,” Chime whispered, half to himself. Catch up with Moon and Stone, rescue Bramble, Merit, Delin and Callumkal. Or there might be nothing to come home to.