Edge of Worlds

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Niran lay in his narrow bunk in the steering cabin of the Koltera, face buried in a too-thin pillow, and was not much amused when Tlar opened the door and stood over him. “What is it?” he groaned. He had taken the last night watch and it was Diar’s turn for the morning. They were passing over wetlands and the dampness in the air clung to the bedding and made sleeping uncomfortable, but he was determined to do it.

“Some Raksura arrived,” Tlar said.

“Raksura?” Niran heaved himself up on one elbow and squinted blearily up at Tlar. “From Indigo Cloud?” If they had heard from Delin, received some message . . .

Niran was furious with Delin. He was well acquainted with the fact that his grandfather did as he pleased, indifferent to danger. Delin was a scholar and an explorer, and it didn’t matter how many others had died while pursuing his vocation, he was determined to continue it. “We’re lucky he didn’t choose to study the Fell,” Diar had said once, unsympathetically. His sister was always unsympathetic toward Niran’s attempts to keep grandfather close to home; she felt that if they allowed Delin to do as he pleased he would include them in his plans and make it easier to watch over him.

This had not worked in the Kish-Jandera city, when they had come back from a day of trade meetings to find a note saying Delin was not at the library of Kedmar but had left for the Reaches with an expedition of Kishan scholars.

“Did he say he was kidnapped?” Diar had asked Blossom and Heart and Bell and the others who had received them at the Indigo Cloud colony. “We couldn’t tell from his note, but he left most of his things behind, as if he was given no time to pack.”

“Or did he trick them into taking him?” Niran had added. “You know what he’s like.”

The Arbora had all demurred, until Blossom reluctantly admitted, “I don’t think he ever said.”

Niran knew Blossom well from his own long journey with the court, and he couldn’t fault her for refusing to betray the old man. But the Raksura did not age as the Islanders did, and had little idea how fragile a man grandfather’s age could be.

Now Tlar said, “No, from the other settlement, the one further west that grandfather wrote about. The queen is here. She’s . . . large.” She made an expansive gesture. “And she brought the consort and the mentor who are partly Fell.”

“I’ll be right there.” Considerably more awake, Niran flung off the blanket. Tlar stepped out of the cabin as he hurriedly dressed.

He stepped outside to see Diar seated on the deck, facing a Raksuran queen even larger than the intimidating Pearl. Delin had described Malachite of Opal Night, but seeing her with one’s own eyes was a whole different experience. Even this crew, used to Raksura enough to be at ease with them, stared uneasily.

Belin was serving a pot of grain water with slightly trembling hands, but Diar had the map spread out and appeared to be explaining their route as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A dozen brightly-colored warriors were perched around on the railing, as well as one dark creature with an armored crest that after a startled moment Niran identified as the half-Fell consort.

An Arbora in her soft-skinned form sat on the deck behind Malachite. That should be the half-Fell mentor, though she looked like an ordinary Raksura to Niran. She was smaller than the others, her skin a dark red-brown, and her dark hair cut short and standing out in a halo around her face. She was dressed in simple clothes like a wind-sailor would wear, a longer tunic with a light shirt over it and pants cut off at the knee. She wouldn’t have gotten more than a second look at any Yellow Sea port; there was nothing to show she was Raksura, much less part Fell.

With an impenetrable calm born of much experience exploring the Three Worlds, Diar said, “Malachite, reigning queen of Opal Night, this is my brother Niran.”

Speaking in Altanic, Malachite said, “We want to travel with you. You have no objection?”

Adjusting to months of living alone with Raksura while Indigo Cloud had returned to its ancestral home in the Reaches had been difficult; this was nothing. And considering the evidence of Fell attack that the Kishan had reported, and Delin’s own worries about what might be inside the sea-mount city, it would be madness to refuse a Raksuran escort. No matter how harrowing the queen was. Niran said, “None at all.”

The next day, it was made plain to everyone just how useful it was to have Raksura aboard.

It was midafternoon and Niran was out on deck with Diar, consulting over the map. “There’s no way we’ll catch them in flight,” Diar said. “We’re faster, but we have no idea if they’re going through the archipelago or straight across.”

It was frustrating that the Kish hadn’t marked any route on the map the Raksura had managed to obtain. “Or if they’re planning to stop on the way,” Niran agreed. “I just hope grandfather hasn’t managed to get himself killed in the meantime.”

“You should have more confidence in him.” Diar jerked her head toward the stern, where the Raksura had settled in, the warriors draping themselves all over the deck and the cabin roof. Malachite was nowhere to be seen, but then Niran hadn’t seen her all day. She seemed able to vanish at will. Diar continued, “He has friends with him now, at least.”

Niran wasn’t sure that was any better, since the Raksura just gave grandfather more mobility and opportunities to find something that might kill him. He was about to say so when the consort Shade wandered up and asked, “When will we get to the sea?”

At first, Niran had had no idea what to say to someone who was half-Fell. But Shade had proved unexpectedly easy to speak to, mostly because he wasn’t hesitant to ask questions. “This is much faster than Delin’s wind-ship,” Shade had said on the first day, while leaning precariously far out over the rail. The Aeriat Raksura’s complete lack of concern for heights was one thing Niran had never gotten used to. “But it’s so much bigger.”

“This ship has a more powerful sustainer,” Niran had told him. The Koltera was the largest wind-ship the family owned, and meant for exploration rather than trade. Her cargo space was given over to water containers and food supplies, and she was meant to travel long distances without needing to stop. “Most of our wind-ships only need one or two chips of flying island heart to support them on the lines of force. This one has seven.”

This had turned into an explanation of how exactly the sustainer worked and how the size of the rock chips dictated the configuration of the wind-ship and how the Koltera was this length in order to balance the force contained in each, and then a tour of the ship’s steering cabin. Lithe, the mentor, had followed along, shy but interested in everything as well.

“Perhaps by morning,” Diar said to Shade now, turning the map so he could see it. “I think we’re—”

The lookout called a warning an instant before three shapes dropped out of the sky and landed on the ship’s rail.

Diar drew in a startled breath. Niran stared, astonished both at the temerity and the stupidity. The creatures had rounded bodies and broad, nearly translucent wings. Their arms and legs were long and stick-like, and whatever features were on their round heads were buried in a multi-layered, brightly-colored shell. It was like being confronted by something with a flower for a head. An instant later Niran realized they wore tool belts fastened to their bodies, with various grass-woven pouches suspended from them.

Diar demanded, “What do you want?”

The largest one spoke in rough Altanic, “You’re in our air. We demand payment.”

Niran snorted in annoyance. “We don’t pay tribute.”

The nearest female warrior, a large muscular person called Saffron, was suddenly between Shade and the interlopers. She snarled, “You’re on the wrong boat.”

The lead flower-head hesitated, perhaps taking in the fact that there were six Raksura sunning themselves nearby on the deck, now awake and watching with the intense focused interest of predators. One of the other flower-heads fell backward off the railing.

Shade turned toward them, shifted, and half-lifted his wings. He said, in his deeper raspy voice, “Don’t make me wake my mother.”

The last two flower-heads finally seemed to realize they had made a terrible mistake. They dropped off the railing and flew away, fleeing rapidly back toward the hills just visible past a stand of tall plane trees.

A male warrior strolled up, baring his fangs so he could pick his teeth with a twig. “Should we chase them?”

“No.” Shade rippled and changed back into his smaller self. “Just watch to make sure they don’t follow us.” He turned back to Diar and the map. “Were we going through these islands? Or straight across this way?”

Niran exchanged a look with Diar. Possibly it was madness to associate with Raksura; Niran had thought so once and there were undoubtedly those who thought so now. But then everyone aboard was related to Delin, so madness ran in the family. Turning her attention back to Shade, Diar said, “Yes, we take the direct route.”

Over the next few days, Moon couldn’t tell if talking to Balm had helped or not. He had the feeling that it hadn’t, that it had just made the warriors more careful how they behaved when he could see them.

They were out on deck, watching the sea as the sun set. The wind was down and the gentle swells were full of tiny sparks of blue light, either plant or animal or both. It was fascinating, and all the Raksura, Delin, and most of the crew had found a spot to watch it. Moon was on top of the steering cabin with Jade, Balm, Chime, and Briar, taking advantage of the heat that the soft material was radiating. They were all in groundling form, and Jade in her Arbora form, to enjoy it better. Lying on his side with Jade’s arm around his waist, watching the flickering water, Moon wished they could have taken this trip for no other reason than just to see things like this. Then Chime said, “There’s something out there.”

Jade sat up and Moon rolled over to face Chime. He crouched on the edge of the cabin, staring toward the south. Chime pointed. “See the outline in the water?”

There were murmurs of assent from the others as they twisted around to look. A black shape was outlined against the blue flickers of light that rode the constant movement of the water. It was still some distance away. Jade said, “An island?”

Chime shook his head. “It’s drifting.”

Balm said slowly, “It’s not . . . Merit said a hive, didn’t he? Floating on the water?”

Moon tasted the air deeply. It occurred to him suddenly that a hive floating on the water might actually be a giant Fell sac, used like a portable island. But there was no Fell stench in the wind.

Jade shifted to her winged form. “That’s what he said. Briar, go tell Stone, ask him if he can see it any better than we can.”

Moon rolled back over and hung down to look into the steering cabin’s window. It was softly lit, and he could see Magrim holding the steering lever. He had been judged recovered enough to be allowed back on duty a few days ago. Moon tapped on the crystal. Magrim glanced over, startled, then stepped to the window to open the catch. “What is it?”

“There’s something to the south, something big, drifting on the surface.”

Magrim turned immediately to call to someone, “Find Callumkal!”

Jade made the decision to investigate immediately, but Callumkal was out on deck by then and tried to convince her to wait until morning. “Surely it is too dangerous now,” he said.

The Kishan had covered the deck lights and they were standing in the dark. It made the shape of the hive easier to see, floating on the sparkling water. Moon kept his gaze on it; it made his spines prickle nervously.

Jade replied, “There’s no movement. Whoever they are, or whatever it is, they don’t know we’re here.”

They were unconsciously keeping their voices low, though they were too far away for any potential inhabitants of the hive to hear them. They hoped. Moon sympathized with Callumkal’s concern, but they still needed to do this.

“Probably don’t know we’re here,” Delin corrected. “This may be a trap.” Bramble and Merit stood in mutinous silence, though it wasn’t quite as mutinous as Briar, Root, and Song, who had been ordered to stay behind with them.

“We’ll be fine,” Jade said. She swung up onto the railing. “Just don’t bring the boat any closer.”

She dropped over the railing and Moon, Chime, Balm, and River followed.

Moon tilted his wings to ride the wind down and circle above the structure. He heard the whoosh of air behind him, the distinctive sound of Stone’s wings. Stone had jumped off the stern of the boat and shifted in midair.

There was still no stench of Fell, but no scent of anyone else, either. The light was just enough for Raksuran eyes to make out the domed shapes of multiple hives, though Moon couldn’t see anything in detail. Then they flew over a structure like a flat open cup that stood out from the side of the larger hive.

They came around for another pass, and Jade said, “I’m going to try to land on that flat spot.”

Behind them, Stone made a noise between a snort and a growl. Moon said, “Jade, no. That could be the mouth,” but she was already diving down.

As Moon landed beside her, she said, “It’s not the mouth.”

The platform, whatever it was, crackled underfoot. Its scent was more plant than animal but plants could be predators too. Moon said, “It could still be the mouth.”

“This is dried seaweed.” Jade moved cautiously forward. “And that’s a door.”

Moon was tempted to argue that it was a throat, but managed not to. He was starting to think she was right. There were faint crunches behind him as the warriors landed. Something dark loomed over them, vanished abruptly, then Stone dropped down onto the platform in his groundling form. Startled, the warriors flinched away and Moon hissed.

Jade snapped, “Stop that. Who has a light?”

Chime dug a lighted object out of the bag around his neck and handed it to Moon. It was one of the metal cups from the flying boat, spelled for light. Merit must have been in a hurry. He passed it to Jade, and she stepped into the opening and held it up.

The glow showed them walls made of dark seaweed, the long fronds woven and braided together. Jade furled her wings and moved further in. Moon followed, with the others behind him.

The opening led to a passage spiraling down into the structure. Moon started to scent other odors. Rotting fruit, rotting vegetation. Jade said, “Something with hands made this. It wasn’t . . .”

“Extruded,” Chime supplied, from behind Moon. “That’s what I was thinking.”

Stone said, “Jade, hold the light up higher.”

Jade stopped and lifted the cup. Looking up, Moon realized the roof was high and net bags hung from it. His mind still on Fell, for a moment he tried to see their contents as dead groundling bodies. But while he was looking at a larder, it wasn’t for the Fell. The bags held various water plants, ropey vines, the kind of melons that grew under the sand of both fresh and saltwater beaches. There were crustacean shells also, and pieces of driftwood. “Their supplies,” Balm said softly. “They must be sealings, or some kind of waterlings.”

It was reassuring, but . . . Where are they? Moon thought. This place felt empty.

Jade moved on. After two more spirals down, she stopped. “I hear something. Breathing?”

Stone said, “It’s below us. There’s a little movement, too.”

Moon felt prickles of unease crawl up his back under his scales and spines. Chime twitched nervously.

They continued on, following those faint traces of sound through the maze of the structure. Then Jade said, “There’s something ahead.” She raised her voice a little and added, “We apologize for entering your craft, or dwelling.”

Moon stepped up beside her, head tilted to catch any faint sound. Just past the edge of the light was a doorway. Past it something was breathing. Or a lot of somethings were breathing. It was a muted rushing sound, like a hundred little puffs of wind.

There was a long pause, and then a faint vibration through the woven floor as something moved in the room ahead. Moon twitched a little, realizing Stone was standing at his other shoulder, having stepped up from behind in complete silence.

Then a hesitant, raspy voice spoke. It was clearly a language, but Moon couldn’t pick out individual words. It sounded like modulated rushes of air. More voices joined in.

Jade said, “I can’t understand you,” and stepped into the doorway. Her spines twitched in surprise. Behind her, Moon angled for a view, and stared. All right, that’s new.

The inside of the room was filled with niches, and more than half of them were occupied with different beings. They were all small, the biggest no more than a pace high, and all translucent, with various arrays of tentacles, pincers, or fins. Some had bulbous heads, some had no head at all. Some toward the top of the room began to glow, gradually lighting the room with a faint blue illumination. A large group tumbled out of their niches, but instead of coming toward the Raksura invading their domain, they gathered in a tight clump in the center of the room.

They clung to each other in a heap, then stood up.

Jade hissed in wonder. “Have you ever seen—”

“No.” Moon had never seen anything like this.

Behind him, Chime whispered, “What is it?”

Moon said, “There was a bunch of them, and they got together and made a person.”

“It’s not as disgusting as some things we’ve seen,” River pointed out. He was right about that.

The sturdier beings had formed three legs, others clung to each other atop them to form the torso, and two longer ones hung off it to make arms, the short tentacles at the ends of their bodies acting as fingers. A bulbous one at the top seemed to be the head. It spoke again, from a mouth that opened in the center of the torso, and this time Moon could hear individual words, though he still didn’t understand them.

Stone said, “That’s a sea-trade language.” He moved Moon out of the way by the shoulders and stepped into the room. He spoke a few words. “I told it—them—we’re travelers.”

The tentacle-hands, glowing faintly, the fingers connected by translucent wisps of skin, moved in an open-handed gesture. It spoke for a time. Stone said, “It’s asking us if we’ve seen others like them.”

“That’s an easy answer,” Balm said softly.

Stone spoke again. The other beings came closer to listen, several fluttering down from the upper portions of the room on filmy wings. Stone frowned, glancing back at Jade. “I told it we hadn’t seen any others. It asked me how long we’ve been traveling in the air.”

“That thing that came near the flying boat—” Moon began.

Jade finished, “Was it them?”

Stone waved a hand. “It was them. Now quiet, I’m trying to get them to tell me why they’re looking for these others.”

Moon looked around the room at all the little beings watching from their niches, or from the floor. If they could form a flying creature of that size, what else could they do? He wondered if they had only formed an upright shape because they were imitating the Raksura.

Balm had moved a little distance down the corridor. “If some of them are missing, that would explain why this place feels so empty.”

“And why there are so many supplies,” Chime added.

Moon turned back as Stone said, “A large group—I have no idea how many, I can’t understand that part—went out gleaning some time ago and didn’t return. They’ve been searching for them.”

Moon bit back a hiss. “Another disappearance in this area.” The sealings at the trading port had heard of one and they had randomly encountered another. How many had there been?

He could tell Jade was trying to keep the growl out of her voice as she said, “Have they seen signs of Fell?”

It didn’t seem a difficult question, but the problem was this strange colony of beings perceived the world in an entirely different way than Raksura, or groundlings, or sealings, or anybody else Moon had ever encountered. They didn’t seem to understand scent, at least not as Raksura did. They could describe things the group as a whole saw, but not in terms Stone could translate.

Moon muttered to Chime, “We’ve talked with plants that were better at communicating with other species.”

“Plants make sense,” Chime said. “Maybe they all got together because no one else understands them.”

After a time of fruitless back and forth, Jade twitched her spines in resignation and said, “Tell them we’ll watch for their missing companions in our travels, but we must go.”

Stone spoke again, and the beings answered. Stone sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “They just asked me if I thought their friends were dead.”

Moon looked away. Just because the beings were nearly impossible to communicate with didn’t mean they didn’t have the capacity to care for each other. And their way of living was so intimate, if they did care, they probably cared a great deal.

Jade winced. “Tell them yes.”

Stone said something in the trade language, and the shape collapsed, all the little beings flowing away back to the walls. Their self-generated light started to fade. Stone stepped out of the room. “Let’s get out of here and leave them alone.”

They found their way up through the structure and out to the open platform. The cool wind lifted Moon’s frills and took away the heavy scents of dried sea wrack and rotting vegetation. It was a relief to take to the air again, and leave the silence of the hive behind.

They returned and gathered in the common room of the flying boat, where Jade told Callumkal and Rorra and the others what had happened. Moon was standing back against the wall with Chime when he heard Vendoin ask Merit, “You can actually see the future, then?” She seemed completely astonished. “It isn’t superstition?”

Chime exchanged a look with Moon and gritted his teeth. Moon shrugged. Vendoin had been polite and had seemed to readily accept them, but he had long since decided he liked the others better. There were some indications that Vendoin found them amusingly primitive. The other Kish might have had their fears about traveling with Raksura, but at least they had been honest about it.

Merit kept his temper and said, “It’s not really seeing the future. The future isn’t there yet, so you can’t see it. We see things that might happen, as images, based on what we’re doing or about to do. It’s easier to scry when you’re looking for something that has happened, and trying to see what effect it has on what you should do next.”

Vendoin took this explanation in with blank surprise. Fortunately Callumkal got the room’s attention and said, “From now on, all crew on deck will go armed, and will take turns standing ready at the bow and stern weapons. Keeping them replenished and ready to fire simply isn’t enough.”

It was a wise precaution, though Moon felt they should have already been doing it.

As the group around Callumkal broke up, Rorra and Kalam came over to join them. Rorra was frowning in worry. Kalam said, “It would be so much easier if Avagram hadn’t died.”

Chime asked, “Who?”

“He was the arcanist for the expedition, but it turned out he was ill, and he died while we were on the way to the city for the first time,” Rorra explained.

“That’s unfortunate,” Chime said, and flicked a look at Moon.

Moon agreed. It was also convenient, if the Fell were involved, and didn’t want a Kishan sorcerer around. But after so many days on board, he couldn’t imagine any of these people as being under Fell influence. He knew that didn’t mean anything, but it was hard not to be lulled into a sense of false security, even for him.