The Siren Depths

Chapter Seventeen

Moon stared at Shade. It took an effort of will not to step back and growl. The others stared too, except for Saffron, whose spines flicked in embarrassment and Lithe, who just looked frightened. Shade didn’t notice at first, his gaze on the ceiling as he tracked the kethel’s movements until it left the boat. He turned to Moon. “Why did it…” His voice trailed off as he realized what the silence in the cabin meant.

He twitched self-consciously and shifted, his dark armored body flowing into his smaller groundling form. He watched Moon warily, like someone who expected the worst.

Moon recognized that expression because he was pretty certain it had been on his face every time he had been forced to shift in front of someone who had thought he was just another groundling. And the worst was always what had happened. He belatedly shifted too, so Shade wouldn’t think he was going to attack him. He said, “That’s…”

“It’s how I’ve always been.” Shade’s shoulders hunched in misery. “Did the kethel leave because it thought I was a ruler?”

Moon hadn’t had much trouble with Shade’s groundling skin color. Maybe because he was used to seeing so many varieties of groundling, and Shade’s whole demeanor was so unlike a Fell’s, that after the first initial surprise the comparison seemed ridiculous. But this… This he had a problem with. And he needed to get past it, now, before the Fell returned. Because if the kethel had been intimidated by Shade, the other Fell might be too, and that could give them far more of an advantage than a weapon that might or might not be able to start a fire at a distance. “Can you shift again? So I can see?”

Shade met his gaze, startled. Then he shifted.

Moon stayed in groundling form, and made himself look, really look. After a moment, it was clear Shade’s form wasn’t as much like a ruler’s as the first shocked glance had suggested.

He might be as big and muscular as a kethel’s groundling body, but his mass was more elegantly proportioned, an Aeriat Raksura’s proportions. He had scales, the correct deep black of a consort, but more reflective and without any color undersheen, or color banding on his claws. The scales seemed to stand out more, giving them a cursory resemblance to a ruler’s armor. He did have a ruler’s armored crest, but it was smaller, less prominent. He also had a substantial mane of spines and frills sprouting from the base of it, though it was hard to tell, since his spines were self-consciously flat at the moment. Moon was starting to realize what groundlings had felt like when they had caught glimpses of his shifted form and mistaken him for a Fell. “You don’t… I don’t know what you look like, but it’s not a ruler.”

That wasn’t the most coherent thing he could have said, but Shade seemed to understand. His large array of spines rippled in relief, and he showed Moon the underside of his forearm. “I have ridges on my scales.”

Moon leaned in to look, then took Shade’s arm and felt his scales. The texture was different, rough rather than smooth. Not unpleasant, just different. Moon stepped back, bumping into Chime who had been edging forward for a closer look. He asked Lithe, “Are you like this?”

She twitched a little nervously, but shifted. Her shape was like an Arbora’s, with no extra crest, spines, fangs, or bulk, but her scales were a consort’s black, and the same texture as Shade’s. She said, “The kethel just wanted Shade, not me. I don’t understand that.”

“You’re a crossbreed mentor,” Chime said. He didn’t seem as disturbed by Shade’s and Lithe’s appearance as he had before, and neither did Floret. Maybe they were taking Moon’s reaction as a guide, or maybe getting it out in the open and talking about it had been the right thing to do. Chime continued, “Maybe they’re afraid of you. They might think you could keep them from shifting, like the mentor-dakti did to us.” Lithe frowned, startled and thoughtful. Chime added hopefully, “Could you?”

That she might have this ability had clearly never occurred to Lithe. “I don’t think so.”

“But you haven’t tried?”

“Try,” Moon told her.

Above them the deck thumped, a much lighter sound than when the kethel had landed. Everyone’s gaze went to the hatch. Moon shifted to his winged form. This will be it. But there were no other thumps, no scratching on the deck as dakti landed. The ruler was approaching alone.

As it came down the steps, Moon recognized it. It was the older ruler who had been on the groundling bladder-boat.

Then the image of Liheas filled Moon’s memory, so vivid that bile rose in his throat. There had been no sign yet that this flight knew anything of the flight that had stalked Indigo Cloud and Sky Copper, but if they knew of that, or had had some connection…

The ruler said, “I am Thedes.” Its gaze went to Shade, a long penetrating study, then to Lithe, then back to Shade. “The progenitor would speak with the crossbreed consort.”

Shade’s spines trembled nervously, and he looked at Moon. The kethel saw Shade shift, and now they know which one of us they want, Moon thought. Shade said, “No.”

“You will not be harmed. Or touched.” There was no emotion in the words. Thedes might not have known what they meant. It didn’t inspire confidence in the truth of the statement.

Moon said, “Did you say that to the groundlings at Aventera?”

Thedes focused on Moon. There was a brief flicker of what might have been indulgent amusement in the dark eyes. Moon didn’t believe it. Thedes was old enough to know how to mimic emotions his prey might find reassuring. Thedes said, “They were groundlings. We don’t pretend they are people.”

“You don’t pretend we’re people, either.”

Thedes’s empty gaze returned to Shade. “We treat you as we treat each other.”

Moon swallowed a frustrated hiss. Trying to argue with that statement would be like fighting your way out of a branch spider’s web, mostly because it was probably true. The Fell didn’t treat each other gently, either.

The ruler waited for Moon to reply, then said to Shade, “We have let you keep your wounded, and the warriors and the mentor.” This was said as if it was a completely meaningless indulgence. “We have been generous and kind. You deserve our kindness.” He inclined his head toward Moon. “The older consort may accompany you.”

Moon didn’t let his spines flatten. He had been expecting a threat, and it wasn’t as if the Fell couldn’t drag them all out of the boat if they wanted. Shade glanced at Moon for help, and Moon flicked a spine in assent.

Shade said to the ruler. “I’ll go.” Then he steeled himself with obvious effort. “Moon doesn’t have to come with me.”

Moon knew he could tell himself he had to stay behind to help defend the wounded since Thedes’s word to spare them was worth less than nothing. But the idea of letting Shade walk out of here alone to face whatever he had to face made a painful knot in his chest. Shade might look like a predator, but he had been gently raised and protected and indulged, and he had little idea of what might happen. And Moon had been abandoned so many times, he just didn’t want Shade to know what that felt like. “I’ll go,” Moon said.

Shade tried not to react but a betraying ripple of relief fluttered through his spines.

Thedes turned away and started up the stairs. Moon stepped close to Floret and Chime and mouthed the words, “If we don’t come back, use the weapon.” Chime looked horrified but Floret nodded a determined assent. Then Moon and Shade followed Thedes.

As they reached the deck, Shade asked Thedes, “How did you know about me and the others? The crossbreeds? How did you know about what happened to Opal Night?”

“Our guide told us. When you see it, you will understand,” Thedes said, then sprang off the deck.

Shade threw a nervous glance at Moon. Moon tried to look reassuring, but thought the most he managed was grim resignation. They followed Thedes.

The ruler headed toward the large mass Moon had seen earlier, making his way over to it by springing to and from the web-like supports that stretched across the dim space. As Moon leapt after him, the sticky texture of the supports reminded him of the parasites’ webs inside the leviathan’s body; it made the skin creep under his scales.

They dropped down onto the top of the structure, and Moon realized it must be a nest. The surface was unpleasantly crunchy underfoot, and made of debris stuck together with the same secretions as the supports. The horrific smell was even worse, Fell stench combined with death and rotting plants. Following Thedes across the uneven surface, Moon saw deadfall wood of various trees, some with withered leaves still attached, hewn planks that might have come from dwellings or ships, bits of carved wood, broken metal fragments, torn cloth. And bones, he realized, as he stepped over something that looked very like a groundling’s ribcage.

There were more remains around the entrance, a round doorway in the top that led down into the structure. The bones weren’t ornamental, Moon decided as he climbed down the half-stair half-ladder of secretion-covered debris. The placement of long bones, skulls and jaw fragments was entirely random. He had seen kethel wear scalps or bones as decorations, but these looked like they were no more prized than the scrap wood.

Light came from various sources, all of which must have been looted from groundlings: a chased metal container with a glowing ball inside, that flickered madly as whatever powered it failed, glowing plant material packed into wicker boxes, some glowing mineral blocks like the ones Moon had seen in the turning city in the eastern mountains. Thedes led them through a maze of small chambers and dim passages, spiraling down through the multiple levels of the nest. The deeper they went, the more Moon sensed movement all around them, hidden in the dark, bodies drawing breath and pumping blood, waiting and watching. But the only clear sound was his own heart pounding and the hitch of fear in Shade’s breath.

Then the passage turned into a steep slope down into a larger chamber. One side was supported with the wooden frame and partial wall of a groundling ship, either a water-going vessel or a flying one, it was hard to tell. The dark wooden planking on the wall still showed signs of faded paint, and had a round window with silver studs. The other half of the room was supported by giant arches of bone, the ribcage of some large creature as big as a… kethel, Moon thought, suddenly realizing what he was looking at. Part of the chamber was made out of the body cavity of a dead kethel.

Thedes led them further in, to where the floor became a series of broad uneven steps, curving down toward the far end. Fell lounged in the shadows everywhere. Moon was braced to see crossbreeds, but the dakti he could spot looked like ordinary Fell. Some were in their groundling forms, naked, their bodies small and thin with light skin, matted dark hair, and rough features. They stared at Moon and Shade with dark eyes and identical expressions of hungry interest.

Then the room curved around and Moon saw the progenitor.

She sat on a pile of rich fabrics and clothing looted from groundling prey. Even curled into a sitting position, he could tell she was much larger than the one other progenitor he had had the misfortune to see. Her scales were black, her leathery wings wrapped around her body, and she looked like a ruler with a smaller head crest and a softer texture to her armored scales. But he thought she would be at least a head taller than Thedes. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if she was older, more powerful.

Several younger rulers gathered in front of her, with more scattered clothing for cushions. Their white skin seemed to shine in the dimness of the room, their dark hair like falls of silk, framing the cold, perfect beauty of their features.

A quiver of movement drew Moon’s gaze to the shapes that lay piled on the floor behind the rulers. As he realized what they were, the sharp shock cleared his thoughts. He made himself focus on the fine clothes the rulers wore, some in tatters, relics from their previous feeding, some new brocades that came from their prey at Aventera. Made himself remember that the beauty was a lie and a trap, a mask to hide blind predatory hunger.

He slid a sideways glance at Shade, wondering if Shade’s blood made him immune or easier prey to the Fell influence. He nudged Shade’s arm, and tilted his head toward the pile.

Shade twitched, stared, and made a choked-off noise of distress.

The shapes tumbled there were slender bodies with pale gray skin: dead male and female Aventerans, some naked and some still partially clothed. The Fell were about to eat.

Thedes melted into his groundling form. He smiled, and it was as if he drew all the light and air toward him. Moving with weightless grace, he moved to a spot near the other rulers and sat down. He gestured. “Sit with us.”

Shade’s spines shivered, and he looked at Moon in mute appeal. Moon gripped his wrist, squeezing briefly to reassure Shade and steady himself. Moon stepped into the empty spot next to Thedes and sat down on the mat of discarded clothing. The fabrics were heavy and rich, the scent rising up held must, dried blood, piss, and old fear sweat. Shade sank down next to him, trembling.

Thedes smiled his approval. Moon felt it pull at some small part of his heart, and hated himself for it. Thedes said, “This is how friends behave.”

Shade hissed in angry disbelief. The rulers all tilted their heads, almost in unison. One said, “Why do we wait? That one was there when Ivades was killed; I see it in him.”

Thedes said, “That was the past. We are friends now.” He waited, as if giving the others the chance to voice any objections. Then he said, “Now we eat. Like friends.”

A few dakti eased forward to the pile of groundling bodies and shifted to their winged forms. The first one leaned in, ripped an arm off an Aventeran woman, and carried it to the progenitor.

The progenitor accepted the offering and bit into it, ripping off a chunk and chewing with delicate precision. The other dakti tore into the corpses, pulled off the arms and legs and carried them to the rulers. Moon was careful not to let his eyes focus on the bodies. He didn’t want to see an Aventeran face he recognized. Or any sign that some of them weren’t quite dead yet. The rulers started to eat, their fangs digging into the gray flesh.

Then a dakti stepped between Thedes and Moon, its leathery wings brushing Moon’s shoulder. It dropped a groundling leg in front of Shade, the bruised gray flesh stained with congealed blood. Shade flinched. Moon ignored it.

Thedes said, “We asked you to eat with us.”

Moon should have seen this coming, should have sensed the sick inevitability of it. He said, “No.”

Thedes fixed his gaze on Shade. “He speaks for you.”

“He does,” Shade said. His voice came out in a growl.

“If he was not here, you would eat?”

Shade showed his fangs, and it caused a moment of stillness among the rulers and dakti. “I won’t eat.”

“You prefer different food,” Thedes said. He inclined his head toward Moon. “We can provide.”

Moon sensed movement behind him and flared his spines just as a weight struck his head. He pitched forward and rolled, realized it was a dakti as it tumbled off him. He shoved upright but more dakti hit him, bounced him off the far wall and slammed him into the floor. Moon clawed, bit and twisted but they piled on top of him and there were too many. He felt claws dig into his scales but not rips or slashes, and knew they were trying to smother him unconscious. The panic of that thought almost made him lose the remaining air in his lungs, then the weight lessened abruptly.

He rolled to a crouch, breathing hard, braced to move. Dakti scattered and Shade stood only a few paces away, spines flared, facing Thedes and the other rulers. Shade snarled, “Leave him alone, and I’ll do it.”

“No, don’t—” Moon said in reflex, but Thedes said, “Quiet. Stay there. Speak again and we will bring the warriors here and eat them.”

Moon knew that wasn’t an idle threat. He subsided unwillingly, his spines flicking in helpless agitation. As if nothing had happened, Thedes said to Shade, “Sit. Eat. We will be friends.”

Shade’s spines flattened in despair and he stepped back to the spot where the torn leg lay. He sat down, and Moon saw his muscles tense as he braced himself. He picked up the leg, tore out a bite, chewed and swallowed it. He dropped the leg as if it had stung his hand, but Thedes seemed satisfied.

The progenitor and the rulers began to eat again. Moon felt every nerve under his scales twitch with the urge to flee, but he stayed where he was. Shade didn’t look at him.

When the progenitor and the rulers were finished, the dakti slunk forward again and dragged the heads, torsos, and other remains to the back of the room, where they tore them apart, stuffing the flesh into their mouths.

Then the progenitor uncoiled, pulled her wings back and drifted to her feet. Shade stood, his spines trembling. Moon’s throat was dry. They were about to find out what the Fell wanted with them. To find out I made a mistake by not setting us all on fire, he thought.

As the progenitor paced towards Shade, something stirred in the nest behind her, then heaved itself into a sitting position. It was about the size of a dakti, but there was something different, unformed, about its leathery wings and its headcrest. As its head lifted up and bright black eyes opened, Moon realized it must be a fledgling progenitor. It crept forward a pace, snagged a groundling arm left beside the nest, and bit into it with relish.

The progenitor stopped a pace away from Shade, then slowly circled him, step by step. She cocked her head, examining him with deliberation. Shade twitched, but managed to keep his spines still through sheer effort of will. She stopped in front of him, and said, “Show me your other self.”

Her voice was deep and grating, with a strange quality to it, as if it came from a much larger body. Shade flicked a sideways look at Moon. “No.”

The progenitor studied Moon, then turned back to Shade. “The Raksura will never let you breed. I would give you anything you wanted.”

Shade bared his fangs and his array of spines rippled and lifted. “I don’t want to breed, ever. And I have everything I want, except to see you dead.”

Something in the progenitor’s body language changed, and Moon realized that she had spoken hoping to provoke this reaction from Shade.

She said, “Thedes told you you would understand the significance of what our guide has revealed to us.”

She heard what Thedes said to us, Moon thought. Maybe she had even seen them and the others on the boat through his eyes.

She didn’t gesture, but one of the dakti slunk forward, holding a flat wooden case. Shade’s tail lashed uneasily. Moon had no idea what this could be, except that it was probably something horrible.

The dakti opened the case and held it out. Moon warily stretched to see. Inside was a flat fragment of crystal, jagged on the edges as if it had been broken off a larger piece. The flicker of light sparked blue and silver reflections inside it. If it was a weapon, it was a strange one.

“Touch it,” the progenitor said.

Moon drew breath to tell Shade not to do it, but Shade snapped, “You touch it.”

The progenitor stared at him, and Moon felt a chill across his scales as the temperature in the room dropped. Then Thedes stepped up beside the dakti and touched a finger to the crystal.

Gray lines formed on it, gradually resolved into a drawing. The image had been etched onto the crystal and Thedes’s light touch had brought it to the surface. Moon didn’t think the Fell could have created something like that, either with magic or without, and he wondered what groundling race they had stolen it from. As the drawing became more defined, he could see it was an Aeriat Raksura, but with something odd about its head and back… It has too many spines and a crest. Like Shade.

Shade hissed in a breath, confused. “Who is that?”

The progenitor said, “A forerunner. Our mutual origin.”

Shade stared at the image. “You’re saying that this is one of the species that the Aeriat Raksura and the Fell descended from.”

“We had a prey make it for us, to our description. Prey are sometimes useful for things other than eating.”

“Is this what you were trying to do?” Shade spoke in a tone of cold realization. “By making crossbreeds?”

Moon stared at him, startled. That couldn’t be right. They want more power, they want Fell queens and mentor-dakti that can stop us from shifting, that can scry to spy on us and augur. He looked at the image again. But the progenitor hadn’t shown any interest in Lithe, and if they wanted power, a half-Fell mentor had to be better than a half-Fell consort, no matter what he looked like. Unless the Fell thought Shade had some special ability.

Shade said, “But why? Why do you want this?”

The progenitor answered, “Because this is the key our guide needs.”

“The key to what?” Shade glared at her in frustration. “And who is your guide?”

“You will see when we arrive.”

Shade snarled. “How did it know I was at Opal Night?”

“It knows. It has watched for a—” The progenitor abruptly went still. Then all the Fell in the room went still. Except for the fledgling progenitor, who looked around curiously. Shade twitched with nerves. Moon’s back teeth itched. It was as if the progenitor held them all in some sort of mutual spell. If it’s the progenitor. Maybe they were listening to something, or someone, else.

Suddenly whatever it was released them. The progenitor’s body became fluid again. A ripple seemed to travel over the rulers, and the dakti stirred, whispering to each other. Even Thedes flexed his claws.

As if nothing had happened, the progenitor said to Shade, “Surely you wish to know more of us. To take your proper place among those who find you beautiful.”

“I was in my proper place before you stole us,” Shade said bitterly.

The progenitor just regarded him in silence. Moon couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or angry or indifferent. Fell only seemed to show emotion under extreme circumstances. But he wondered how long it had been since any living being had told her no.

Then she turned away and paced back toward her nest.

Thedes said, “Return to your flying craft. We have a distance still to travel.”

Shade looked at Moon, startled. Then he turned for the way out. Moon pushed to his feet to follow. His spines twitched involuntarily, but no one tried to stop him.

The interior was confusing without a guide, but they managed to make their way up through the dark maze to the entrance. Dakti clung to the walls and ceilings, watching them with glittering eyes, chittering to each other. A kethel in groundling form stood near the ladder, grinning at them. Shade hissed at it and it backed away enough that they could scramble up and out.

There was movement everywhere as they fled back to the boat, as if all the Fell inside the sac were aware of them. The shadows seemed full of motion, and Moon looked up, trying to see where it came from. The sun had changed angles, and the dark outline of one of the kethel outside was visible through the gelatinous material of the sac, its wings moving rhythmically.

They landed on the deck of the boat, and an instant later Floret and Saffron burst up out of the belowdecks hatch. Moon hissed in relief and made a sharp gesture for them to get below again. At least the Fell hadn’t attacked the others on the boat.

As the warriors retreated, Shade said in a choked voice, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Moon tried to think of a way to say thank you and everything seemed inadequate. He felt like he had failed Shade badly, that he should have prevented it from happening, thought of something to say to stop it. “We got out alive because of you.”

Shade’s spines flattened in distress. “Did they really think… doing that would make me one of them—” Then he started and hissed, “Kethel!”

Moon sensed movement behind him an instant later but he was already diving for the hatch with Shade. They scrambled down the steps, with Floret and Saffron just ahead, as the kethel landed on the deck and the ship rocked and creaked under its weight. At the bottom of the stairs, Moon stopped, braced for an attack.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the kethel moved around and settled on the deck, making the ship list a little to one side. Moon listened, but all he could hear was deep breathing.

“Guarding us?” Floret whispered.

Moon nodded, and eased away from the stairs. Shade reached up and slid the hatch closed. The light wood wouldn’t even slow the kethel down, but Moon didn’t tell him not to bother. That useless barrier between them and the creature was better than nothing.

Floret looked from Moon to Shade and asked, “You’re all right? They didn’t—”

“We’re fine.” Moon cut the question off quickly.

Shade shook his ruffled spines out. “Something happened in there. I mean, something other than—When the progenitor started to say how the guide knew about Opal Night, and they all went still, it was like something else came into the room. But I couldn’t see it. Did you notice that?”

“I saw them all listening to something we couldn’t hear.” If the Fell’s mysterious guide was something that could hide itself from sight, then they were even worse off than they had been before, if that was possible.

Saffron said, “Your warrior is claiming to hear things.”

Floret said in exasperation, “I told you, he used to be a mentor. He’s different.” She explained to Moon, “Chime heard something, like he did in the leviathan city.”

They stepped into the main cabin, and Moon found Lithe and Chime sitting on the floor. She stared into Chime’s eyes, and there was an odd stillness in his body. She must be looking into his mind to check for Fell influence.

Then Lithe leaned back and Chime blinked, a little disoriented as she released him. It was a sensation Moon was familiar with from when Flower had done this to him. She said, “I don’t see anything in there.”

Moon almost snorted with laughter, then realized he was a little hysterical. He sat down on the floor and shifted to groundling so he could bury his face in his hands for a moment.

When he looked up, everyone was staring worriedly at him. Chime sat in front of him, and Shade had shifted to groundling and crouched protectively at his side. Chime leaned in for a close look at Moon’s face. He asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Moon shook his head. “No. Lithe, you need to look into both of us too.”

“But they didn’t—” Shade stopped, frustrated. “If they did, we wouldn’t remember it, would we?”

They both sat while Lithe checked them for Fell influence. Lithe did Shade first, and after a long moment pronounced him free of any interference. Shade sighed in relief, and Moon felt the sick tightness in his chest ease. If the Fell hadn’t done it to Shade, then they hadn’t done it to Moon either. But he still wanted Lithe to check him, to make certain the others knew he wasn’t compromised.

Moon had the same trouble relaxing and letting Lithe in as he had with Flower. Once he managed it, it was over in what felt like an eye blink. Lithe gave him a quick smile, and said, “You’re fine, too.”

“Good.” Moon gave Shade a nudge with his elbow. “Tell them what the progenitor said, and that image they showed us. And about the thing you felt come into the room.”

He hoped he was getting across that Shade should leave out the part about what the Fell had made him do. With a guilty glance at Moon, Shade skipped over the feeding and told the others only about the guide the Fell had spoken of, the image the progenitor had shown them, and what he thought it meant.

When Shade reached the part about the presence he had sensed, Chime nodded grimly. He said, “I heard something while you were gone, a voice. I couldn’t understand what it said. I think it was speaking Raksuran, but I just couldn’t make out the words.” He nodded to Lithe. “That’s why I asked Lithe to look into my mind. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t the Fell, trying to make me do something, somehow.”

“That’s not how it works, is it?” Saffron said. “They can’t take over your mind from a distance.”

“No, I know that.” Chime bared his teeth at her. “But—”

“But you’re different,” Moon supplied.

“Yes.” Chime twitched uneasily. “But she didn’t find anything.”

“I don’t understand how Chime used to be a mentor,” Shade said to Moon.

“Chime was born a mentor, at the old Indigo Cloud colony, but because the court was getting weaker, he changed into a warrior,” Moon told him.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Chime muttered, as Shade stared at him in surprise.

Moon continued, “He couldn’t do magic anymore or scry. But when we were looking for the seed from our mountain-tree, he heard a leviathan, out on the freshwater sea to the west of the Reaches. He could tell things about it that helped us.”

Shade considered that, biting his lower lip. He said to Chime, “So you can only sense things that are big, and very powerful?”

Chime slumped in resignation. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Moon rubbed his temple. His head ached, pain that seemed centered to either side of his nose, probably from the bad air and terrible scents. He still had dried blood on his chest and arms, and the Fell stench clung to his skin. But everyone else was in the same shape, and he didn’t want to waste water cleaning up. He asked Lithe, “Did you try to see if you could keep us from shifting?”

Lithe said, “I tried on Chime, but it didn’t work.” She lifted her hands in frustration. “Even if I could keep Raksura from shifting, I doubt I could do it to Fell. Queens being able to control our shifting is a Raksuran trait, not a Fell one.”

Everyone looked glum and discouraged and not particularly surprised. Moon had to admit that if Lithe had special powers from her crossbreed heritage, she probably would have noticed before now. He asked, “If progenitors can’t keep rulers from shifting, how do they control them?”

“That’s a good question,” Chime said. “I don’t think anyone knows the answer. Except maybe that dead scholar of predators that Delin knew.”

Moon just hoped Delin was still alive. If Celadon and the others had escaped Aventera and reached the flying island where Jade, Stone, and Malachite waited… He pushed the thought away. They couldn’t count on rescue.

Shade sat forward. “I think it’s the connection between them. Like our queens have with the court.” He turned to Moon. “The progenitor knew what Thedes had said to us.”

Moon had noticed that, too. “I’ve always thought the rulers were the ones who control the flight. I knew the crossbreed queen, Ranea, could make the rulers do things, even across long distances, but I thought that was just because she was a crossbreed.”

Chime’s expression suggested this wasn’t a pleasant thought. “Maybe it wasn’t just her ability; maybe it’s something all progenitors can do.”

Saffron had been listening to the conversation with her expression set in an impatient grimace. But she said, “Can the progenitor do it to us? Or try to do it? Maybe it was her voice that Chime heard.”

At least she sounded as if she was actually trying to help them figure things out. Moon asked Chime, “Was it?”

Chime lifted his hands in bafflement. “I don’t know.”

Lithe reached over and squeezed his wrist. “Just try to listen. You never know what might happen. I’m going to scry and see if I can tell where we’re going.”

Lithe retreated to another cabin for privacy, and Moon helped Chime and Shade check and care for the wounded. He had been in a healing sleep himself, but had never had to take care of someone in one. It was useful knowledge and he was glad to learn it; he just hoped he survived long enough for it to come in handy again.

After that, Moon spent the time making and discarding bad plans. There was just no way they could escape with the wounded, either on the boat or not, especially now that a major kethel seemed settled on the deck to stay. They might be able to set the sac or the progenitor’s nest on fire, but that wasn’t going to stop the kethel outside the sac from attacking them.

It was Shade the Fell really wanted. If they could get out of the sac and Moon could persuade Shade to run with the warriors and Lithe, while he stayed behind to distract the Fell… It wasn’t Moon’s favorite idea, considering what the Fell would do to him and the wounded before killing them. There was also the strong possibility that the warriors might not be able to fly fast enough to evade pursuit.

Moon’s sense of the sun’s passage told him it was setting now, somewhere outside the sac. They were still moving at what felt like the same speed, still toward the north. Moon hated feeling useless, so he went to the foodstores and took out some flatbread, fruit, and strips of dried cooked meat and fish. He divided it up, setting aside a share for Lithe, and made the others eat whether they liked it or not. They didn’t like it, but everyone seemed less edgy afterward.

Shade regarded his portion with a sickly expression. He said, “I don’t know if I can. Ever again.”

Moon took the dried meat and put it back in the basket. “Just the fruit and bread.”

Shade managed to choke it down with difficulty. Watching sympathetically, Chime said, “It’s the Fell stench. It’s making me sick too.”

Moon didn’t comment.

Saffron and Floret and Chime managed to settle who would take turns standing watch in the passage and who would sleep and when. Then Chime told Moon that Moon needed to sleep, that he was starting to say things that didn’t make sense. Rather than have the fight that had just been averted by the food, Moon stomped over to the far end of the cabin, flung himself down on a blanket and pretended to sleep.

After a short time, Shade came over with another blanket and settled down a few paces away, with a studied casualness that didn’t fool Moon for a moment. Moon patted the blanket next to him.

Shade didn’t hesitate, scooting over to curl up next to Moon. Moon put an arm around him and pulled him close. But he didn’t sleep for a long time, listening to Shade weep quietly against his chest.

Moon woke when he heard Lithe and Chime talking quietly. Shade was still curled up against his chest, breathing deeply. Moon eased away from him. When he stirred, Moon whispered, “Go back to sleep,” and Shade subsided.

He got to his feet and stepped quietly across the cabin. Floret had shifted to groundling, and slept sitting up against the wall near the doorway. Moon stopped to check the passage and saw Saffron perched midway up the steps, her attention on the deck above and the rhythmic breathing of their kethel guard.

Chime and Lithe sat near the wounded, with a piece of Delin’s pounded reed paper and one of his drawing sticks between them. Chime glanced up at Moon and said quietly, “Lithe saw something.”

Moon knew he meant the scrying. He sat down beside them, looking at the paper. Sketched on it was a flower, like a lily or a sea-flower, with a door in the center. Lithe said, “I saw trees clinging to cliffs, smelled saltwater and rock, heard waves crash. It makes sense; we’re still heading north, and there’s a salt sea several hundred ells to the north of the Aventerans’ plateau—or at least that’s what the court’s old histories say. There’s been no reason to go in this direction for turns.”

“What’s an ell?” Moon asked, still too half-asleep to care about exposing his lack of knowledge.

“It’s an Arbora walking measurement,” Chime said. “That would be… What, about fourteen days of warrior’s flight?”

“Something like that,” Lithe said. She rubbed her temple as if trying to coax more information out of it. “It’s been so long since I looked at the court’s maps. I suspect kethel fly much faster.”

“About three or four times as fast as a warrior. And they haven’t stopped to rest,” Moon said. They must be switching out, the shifted kethel carrying kethel in groundling form to take their places.

“So this door is somewhere on the coast.” Chime tugged the paper around so he could study it. “It all must mean something. That image they showed you, crossbreeds, a salt sea…”

Moon stared at the sketch of the flower with the door inside it, feeling his brain shake off the sleep and slowly grind into motion. “They said Shade was the key. Maybe they meant that literally.”

Chime frowned at the paper, and Lithe said slowly, “The key to this door. Only someone who is part Fell and part Raksura can open it?”

“Or someone who looked like the image they showed us.” Moon wished he had had a longer look at it. “A forerunner, one of our ancestors.”

“All right, so say that’s true,” Chime said. “What’s behind the door? If Shade is right, the Fell have been capturing consorts and Arbora and forcing them to breed for the past forty turns. What would they want so badly…” He trailed off.

Lithe hugged herself. “And it wasn’t just the flight that attacked our colony in the east, it was the one that attacked Indigo Cloud, too. They both failed and were destroyed, and this flight took up the task?”

Moon felt cold creep down his spine and settle in his stomach. Malachite had ruined the plan forty turns ago by finding the flight that had attacked Opal Night, killing the progenitor and all the rulers, and taking the crossbreeds. But the flight that had attacked Indigo Cloud must have begun their breeding experiment sometime before that. Destroying some small eastern court, taking the consorts and the Arbora and breeding them until they died, attacking Sky Copper and then Indigo Cloud to capture more Raksura. The Fell queen Ranea had implied that it was all meant to make the Fell more powerful. Maybe she was a mistake. They never wanted a queen, they wanted a consort like Shade. And then Ranea came along, took over the flight and ruined the plan.

But who—or what—had come up with the plan? Who had gotten three—at least three, if there had been more failures in the east—different Fell flights to follow this scheme, and how had it known that the crossbreeds were still alive in Opal Night’s mother colony? That one of them was Shade, the crossbreed consort they had been hoping for, all this time.

Chime grimaced in distress. “I don’t want Shade to be right.”

“I don’t want a lot of things.” Moon picked up the drawing. “If the voice you heard, that thing Shade thought came into the nest, is their guide, why are they listening to it?”

“What did it offer them?” Lithe added quietly.

There was no answer for that, either.