Edge of Worlds

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The world spun and Moon couldn’t sit up, couldn’t see, couldn’t shift; the feeling was terrifyingly familiar. It’s Fell poison, he thought. Somehow they have Fell poison.

He tried to shove the looming figures away but hands seized his wrists and dragged him down the corridor. The edge of a hatchway scraped his hip, then he was dumped onto the deck again. Footsteps moved away, then he heard the door slide shut. From the corridor there was quiet talk but he couldn’t make out the words. One of the voices was Vendoin’s. Then a set of footsteps moved away, but he could sense more than one groundling just outside the door.

Someone patted his face, whispering, “Moon, can you hear me?”

It was Rorra, her scent laced with anger and fear. He dragged his eyes open. She half lay beside him, supporting herself on trembling arms. Her gray skin had light and dark patches, and there were deep bruises beneath her eyes. She looked like she was dying. She said, “It was the Hians. Vendoin betrayed us. They poisoned the food.”

“I know,” Moon croaked. He managed to lift his arm and hold it close enough to his eyes to see his skin. His snarl came out as a weak groan. Yes, there was a faint ghost-pattern of scales, his scales, imprinted on the dark bronze of his groundling skin. He tried to shift again but nothing happened. It was like reaching for something that wasn’t there. This was Fell poison. It must have been in the food. It had no scent, and the weedy taste had been disguised by the spices.

He gripped Rorra’s forearm, and managed to lever himself up a little. Squinting, he made his eyes focus enough to see they were in a cabin he didn’t recognize, with cases built against one wall packed with Kishan books. He knew they hadn’t left the boat, so this must be one of the cabins on the top deck, just below the steering cabin. Then he realized that what looked like a blurry heap of clothing lying at the base of the wall was actually three unconscious Kishan. One was Kalam, and the other two facing away were Callumkal and Kellimdar, all sprawled on cushions pulled off the benches. Sickness tainted the air and their breathing was far too quick and shallow.

“It’s made everyone sick, or unconscious,” Rorra was saying, her voice thick and choked, as if she was controlling nausea by force of will. She twisted awkwardly to look toward Kalam and the others. “I tried to prop them up so they wouldn’t choke. The Hians just threw us in here.”

From another cabin somewhere nearby, Moon could hear someone being violently ill, and someone else groaning. Rorra seemed coherent enough even if she looked terrible, but she was sprawled awkwardly on the floor. He said, “Are you hurt?”

Her expression went from dismay to thwarted fury. “It wasn’t working on me fast enough so they took my boots.”

With the boots missing, there was no support for her fins and the missing part of her leg. He said, “They killed Magrim. I found him in the corridor.”

Rorra made a sound that was half-growl of rage, half-sob. “Why are they doing this?”

Moon was still trying to figure out how they were doing it. “Most simples meant for groundlings don’t work on Raksura. Fell poison shouldn’t work on groundlings.” This didn’t make sense. Jade, Chime, Stone, all the others ... Some of them had already been falling asleep when he had left the cabin. Delin had been unconscious already but everyone had still been so tired, Moon hadn’t thought anything was wrong.

Rorra shook him and he blinked, realizing he had almost drifted off. She asked, “What’s Fell poison?”

“It comes from the Abascene peninsula, from old Kiaspur. The groundlings there drank it and when the Fell ate them, it poisoned the Fell.” He couldn’t believe it had worked on Stone so easily. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he’s hiding, planning something. And why am I still awake? His body felt like a useless pile of disconnected limbs, and the urge to just slump to the deck and sleep was powerful, but he could fight it. He should be unconscious, like the others. Maybe because he had been given the poison before, back in the east, he had some resistance to it.

Rorra made a noise of disgust. “Letting the Fell eat them? That’s mad.”

“I don’t think they knew that that was what was going to happen . . .” Moon shook his head, trying to hold back the creeping darkness at the edges of his vision. But where did the Hians get Fell poison? Unless they had had it all along. The Hians had supposedly gone to Kish to get away from the Fell attacks in their old home. “But it still doesn’t make sense. If Fell poison did this to groundlings, the Fell would know something was wrong, they wouldn’t eat them.”

Rorra winced, tried to drag one leg into a more comfortable position, and forced herself upright again. “Maybe the Hians used two different poisons, combined them. But why, I don’t, unless—” She froze. “They’re going to use us to kill the Fell.”

They stared at each other. Moon thought, If she’s right ... A voice in the corridor spoke and they both flinched, then Vendoin slid the door open.

She stepped inside, and another Hian moved past her, carrying a limp Janderi body. As the Hian deposited it beside Kellimdar, Moon saw it was Esankel. Her chest moved, though her breathing was rough and uneven. Rorra crawled to her immediately and rolled the woman onto her side. She glared up at Vendoin and demanded, “What did you give us?”

Vendoin’s face was as opaque as ever, the bone plating her skin like partial armor, her expressions too different to be interpreted. She said, “I didn’t mean for any of you to be harmed. We always carry the shapeshifter poison in our ships. We thought it would work against the Raksura, but combined it with a sleep drug for the Jandera and others. For some, it did not work as intended.” Vendoin lifted a hand in a gesture like a shrug. “Most Jandera plant preparations and distillations are ineffective on Hians, so we are inexperienced at administering them.” She cocked her head, looking at Moon. “You are not as affected as the others. Perhaps you have had the shapeshifter poison before?”

Moon didn’t answer. He didn’t want Vendoin to get the idea to give him another dose. And there was no telling what the effect would be of putting the Fell poison together with another simple.

Rorra grimaced in disgust. “You killed Magrim. And others? Why? Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t kill him. One of Bemadin’s crew panicked, when she found him still awake.”

Moon hissed in disbelief. If all Hians reasoned that way, there was no talking to them. “You’re not stupid. You knew this could kill all of us, but you didn’t care.”

Vendoin seemed unmoved, at least as far as Moon could tell. There was nothing different in her voice as she said, “That is unfair. We have tried to be as careful as possible.”

“He’s right, you’re lying,” Rorra said. “You didn’t care if you killed us all. What about Avagram? He was in good health before we left. Did you poison him? You wouldn’t want a Kish arcanist suspecting you. What do you want? Why did you do this?”

As if it was obvious, as if it was what anyone would do, Vendoin said, “We thought the city held an artifact that we wanted. A powerful artifact, that Hians or Jandera could not obtain for themselves.”

Moon felt his heart sink right down to his stomach. An artifact. That couldn’t be obtained by groundlings.

“What artifact?” Rorra was baffled. “No one found an artifact. There were only writings and carvings and . . .”

Footsteps approached from down the corridor, and then another Hian stopped in the doorway. She held the object, the silver cage with a lump of dark quartz-like mineral suspended inside. The sunlight falling through the window touched it, but the crystal didn’t glint; it just absorbed the light. “Ahh, you have found it,” Vendoin told her.

Rorra stared at Moon. “But no one took it. It was in the ruined room when we left and found the waterlings.”

He said, “There was a spell on it. Briar picked it up and hid it in her pack, and didn’t remember doing it. We didn’t figure out she had it until we were back on the boat.”

Vendoin regarded them both with what Moon thought might be amused disbelief. “You truly didn’t know this was in the city? Or what it is?”

Rorra watched her warily. “No. You obviously do. Tell us.”

Vendoin touched the silver cage, her fingertips barely brushing it. “We believe Hia Iserae was one of the places where the last of the foundation builders fled. The inscriptions there are far more complete than those at any of the sites found in Jandera. They spoke of this artifact and how to find it. I and the other scholars in Hia Iserae helped Callumkal organize this expedition because of it, though he knew nothing of our reasons. But I suspected that the protections the builders had left on it would not let me take it from the city.” She told Rorra, “I tell you all this so you can explain to the others. We will leave you and the crew here on this ship, and you will be able to return to shore once the plant distillations wear off. I wish our reasons known and spread as widely as possible.”

Moon managed to say, “So why do you want it? What is it?”

“I fear it would be cruel to tell you,” Vendoin said, with no irony whatsoever.

Rorra stared at Vendoin, disbelieving. “Cruel? After what you did to Magrim?”

Moon’s throat was so dry he wasn’t sure he could talk. He knew nothing of Vendoin; everything she had shown them so far was just a mask, a performance to keep Callumkal and Kellimdar and the others happy and listening to her and cooperating with her so she could manipulate them. He said, “It’s a weapon, isn’t it? The weapon the Fell wanted. So use it. Use it now.”

Vendoin looked at the artifact and seemed regretful. “I thought I would be able to.” Moon thought, for an instant, she had reconsidered. But she continued, “The inscriptions on it tell me that there are other things I must do first.” Vendoin gestured and the Hian with the artifact turned away and moved hurriedly down the corridor. Two others stepped in and moved to gather up Callumkal. Vendoin told Rorra, “We will take Callumkal and Delin with us, as well as some of the Raksura.” She nodded to Moon. “Your mentor, Merit, of course, and it has become obvious you will make the best hostage.” She added to Rorra, “Be sure and tell everyone you encounter what we have done. Now it is time to go.”

The Hians moved forward and Moon couldn’t do anything but try to make them regret it.

Clinging to the hull of the ship only a few paces above the waterline, River thought, I should have a plan. Stupid Moon would have had a plan.

Briar had reached him just in time to collapse unconscious, her bronze skin already showing the distinctive markings of scales, the sign of Fell poison. He had thought at first that all the groundlings were betraying them, and hidden her in the shelter behind the distance-light on that side. But when he had climbed down the hull to make his way back to the cabin where the others were, he had seen the Kishan unconscious or sick. Then dozens of Hians had come down from the flying boat, and it was obvious they had poisoned everyone.

The Hians had the smaller fire weapons, and he couldn’t kill them all. There had to be a clever way out of this; he just couldn’t think of it.

He was stuck, climbing along under the windows on this side of the sunsailer, trying to hear what was happening, and waiting for an oceanling to pop up and scrape him off the hull. Then he heard Moon and the sealing, talking to Vendoin.

River took his chance and quietly climbed up to cling just below the window. If one of the Hians in their flying packs flew past this side, he was dead. He knew they would kill him. He had caught the scent of groundling blood in the air flowing out of the ship’s upper corridor; if the Hians would kill other groundlings, there was no reason for them to hesitate at killing Raksura.

He heard Moon’s weak growls and the Hians struggling to drag him out of the cabin. Then nothing.

He cautiously edged up and peered inside. Rorra was gone as well.

The Hians had left the door partly open and all River could scent right now was sick groundlings, sealing, and Moon. He shoved the window open and slung himself into the room.

He stepped quickly across it and took a careful look out into the passage. It was empty, except for Rorra, who had apparently crawled to the stairway leading up to the steering cabin and was trying to drag herself up it. She had only made it to the third stair. The Hians had taken her boots, revealing the mangled and missing fins at the end of one leg and the scarred stump on the other. River didn’t care about sealings one way or another, but that was pure cruelty. And she was the closest thing he had to an ally.

He stepped silently down the passage and touched her shoulder.

She twisted around with a strangled yell before she saw who he was. “Some warning would have been nice,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

River crouched on the floor. His arms and legs still shook from a combination of nerves and the strain of hanging off the metal hull by his claws for so long. “The Hians are leaving?” He wasn’t sure what to do. He could follow the flying boat, maybe even hang onto its hull, until he could find a way to free Merit and Moon. But he hated to leave the others here and helpless until the poison wore off.

“Yes, with hostages.” Rorra pushed her hair out of her eyes, and he saw the pale skin of her hands had been abraded by the metal steps. “They said they were going to take Moon. You didn’t see him?”

River hissed. “I can’t get over to that side without being seen. They have fire weapons!”

“I know, I know.” Rorra held up a placating hand. “I’m not complaining.”

River remembered about her communication scent, the need to filter it out. Good, something else to feel inadequate about, he thought. “You can use the fire weapons, right? If I follow the flying boat, can you take care of the others, and get the ship back to the sea?”

“Yes. But I’ll need my boots, so I can walk. The Hians left them in the steering cabin.” She added desperately, “We have to hurry. I think the poison is killing the Jandera.”

River grimaced as he pushed to his feet. Merit was the only one who could help with that, and the Hians were taking him away. “Stay here.” He slipped past her up the steps.

Moon growled, clawed, and managed to bite one of the Hians, despite getting slammed and scraped against the walls of the passage and stairwell. They dragged him out into the bright sunlight of the deck and dropped him, skipping out of arm’s reach. He lay there, panting, what was left of his strength nearly gone, and he hadn’t even been able to delay them much.

He managed to roll over. The flying boat hung low in the air, about a hundred paces above the surface of the water, and a dozen Hians in flying packs moved upward toward it. One attached straps to the still unconscious Callumkal’s harness and dragged him up off the deck. Two more came out of a hatch lower down, carrying smaller bodies. Moon squinted and realized they were Delin and Merit. Another Hian came out carrying Bramble. He hissed helplessly. “You’re leaving the others to die.”

Vendoin said, “No, we will leave them, but they are free to recover and return to land. I want word of what we have done spread as widely as possible.”

“Why are you taking Bramble?”

Vendoin made an irritated gesture. “Bemadin thinks you are too dangerous, that we should only take the wingless ones.”

Moon wanted to rip her throat out. The sunsailer was drifting farther into the ocean, and Rorra was the only one who had shown any sign of recovery. He said, “Then give Rorra her boots so she can get up to the steering cabin and get the boat back to the sea.”

Vendoin ignored him, watching as Delin, then Merit and Bramble were lifted up toward the flying boat. Then she gestured and two Hians moved toward Moon. One carried a small flask. They were going to give him more Fell poison. Moon shoved himself back on the deck, desperate to stand. Another dose might make him unconscious or kill him.

Then he caught the Fell stench on the wind.

His reflexive attempt to shift was useless. He was still trapped in his groundling form and there were Fell close by. Too close for the Hians to fight them off. So this is how it ends, he thought. The Fell would either eat them all and die of the poison, or realize the danger and wait until it wore off before feasting. He said to Vendoin, “You might want to drink that yourself.”

She stared down at him. Then her head jerked up and she spun around to scan the sky. To the southwest, dark shapes cut across the wind. Moon spotted a ruler and a small swarm of dakti, with three kethel following further back. They must have circled around to approach from upwind.

Vendoin fell back a step, then shouted a warning to the other Hians. She said, “How are they here? We should be too far out for them to reach us!”

Maybe the Fell wanted to reach their prey more than they feared falling out of the sky from exhaustion. “Too bad you don’t have any Raksura to fight them off,” Moon told her.

She looked down at him, lips drawn back in a grimace. “We’re not leaving without you.” She made a sharp gesture.

The two Hians lunged in and grabbed Moon’s arms to haul him upright. He twisted to pull away. One grabbed him from behind and lifted up off the deck, dragging Moon with her. The few other Hians still on the deck lifted into the air.

As they moved upward, Moon eyed the flying boat above and the water below, trying to make a decision. The only reason to take him along was to keep him drugged and helpless and keep Jade and the others at bay by threatening to kill him. The Hians could do the same with Merit and Bramble, but they might not realize that. He twisted his head around and tried to sink his teeth into the arm holding him.

Then the Hian jolted sideways as a heavy impact knocked both her and Moon back over the sunsailer’s deck. He got a bare glimpse of a dakti’s wing, then with a cry the Hian let go of Moon. Instinct made him go limp to minimize the damage, but he landed with a stunning impact.

Rolling over, he bit back a groan. His whole body felt numb. Lying on his back he saw the dakti tear the Hian’s pack off, then fling her overboard. It darted away toward the upper deck. Three other Hians dropped toward the water as dakti tore and harried them.

Vendoin shot upward to reach the railing of the flying boat. A kethel swept past as she scrambled aboard. Other Hians ran to get to the fire weapons on its bow and stern. The weapon on its top deck swung around. Moon didn’t see it shoot the wooden disk, but the kethel slipped sideways and the fire stream passed it, missing completely. The Kish-Jandera were obviously better marksmen.

Moon tried again to shift, but again nothing happened. He shoved himself up to his hands and knees and crawled to the wall. It was instinct to seek shelter, but he thought that would only delay the inevitable. There was no fire weapon on this deck that he could reach, nothing he could do. He tried to force himself to his feet, using the metal wall as a ladder. His head swam again and his knees gave out, and he sank back to the deck.

Two more fire streams shot out from the flying boat, but these kethel were just too quick. They darted in and away again. They’re fighting smart, Moon thought. More like Raksura than Fell. As the last two Hians reached the boat’s railing, it turned from the sunsailer and started to lift up and away.

Several dakti landed on the sunsailer’s deck barely five paces away and Moon thought, this is it. But they approached slowly, cautiously, staring at him.

Moon waited for them to figure out that he was helpless. Then the ruler landed on the railing.

She wasn’t a ruler. She was the half-Fell queen.

She called to him, “Should we chase the flying boat?”

It took Moon several heartbeats to realize she was actually asking him, expecting an answer. It was tempting to send them after it, but Merit, Bramble, Delin, and Callumkal were on that boat, helpless. He said, “No. Let it go.”

She didn’t make any gesture, but the three kethel broke off, curving away from the Hians’ flying boat. Moving fast with the wind, it headed out over the ocean.

The queen hopped down from the railing, and shifted. Her form flowed and blended into a figure who could have been mistaken for a Raksuran warrior. Except her skin was bone white, like the groundling form of a Fell ruler, and her dark hair was long and straight. She stepped closer, and he saw there were patches of dark scales on her cheeks, down her neck and shoulders. What looked like heavy braids in her hair might actually be frills. It was like a queen’s Arbora form blended with a ruler’s groundling form. She wore a loose dark tunic, patched and stained around the hem.

She stopped a few paces away, then dropped to a crouch to get eye level with him. Four dakti hunkered on the deck nearby, apparently to listen. She said, “What happened to you?”

Under the circumstances, it was a reasonable question. Moon said, “It’s a poison. If you eat anyone on board this boat, it will kill you.” The poison dulled all his physical reactions, so his frantically pounding heart and the tightness in his breathing was like something that was happening to someone else.

“We weren’t going to eat anyone anyway. We’re not like that.” She tilted her head a little. “Why . . . Why?”

Moon pushed back against the wall, slowly, using it to keep him from slumping over on the deck. “Why are we poisoned?”

“Yes, why?”

Moon couldn’t think of a reason to lie. The more she understood about the poison, the better. “The groundlings who came in the flying boat gave it to everyone.”

She took that in. “They are fighting you over the city?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t going to give more detail than that.

She said, “We were fighting over the city. We made the other flight leave. They attacked the groundlings near the city, and you killed most of their kethel. You saw that.” She waited for a response, and when Moon said nothing, continued, “They hate us, because we’re not like them. We were supposed to help them. But we changed our minds.”

Moon wanted to keep her talking. “Why?”

“We saw you.” She tilted her head. “Are you a consort?”

He thought about saying no. But she had seen him in his scaled form on the city’s dock, and this might be a test to see if he would lie to her. “Yes.”

“Our father was a consort. He told us some things but not enough.” She lifted her shoulders, looking toward the water. “We followed the waterlings from the city to find you. That was smart, wasn’t it?”

He needed to change the subject, get her away from thinking about consorts. “Why were you at the city?”

“The other flight. We were with the other flight. They said there was a weapon inside. They heard it from some groundlings, in a groundling place.” She twitched, lifting her shoulders again as if settling the wings she didn’t have in this form. “They take a groundling, take their mind, and put a ruler inside, and then the groundling tells them whatever it knows—”

“I know about that.”

She twitched again. “That flight had heard from other flights that there are good things in old cities, but you need groundlings to get inside. But the other flight might have been lying. They didn’t say Raksura would be there.”

Moon debated the wisdom of arguing with her, but if he was only delaying the inevitable with this conversation, he would rather she killed him outright. “You’re lying.”

Her white brows drew together and she dropped her gaze.

“You split from the other flight before you saw us. You captured some gleaners and forced them to build you a floating hive, then you ate them. You’re not different from the other Fell.”

Instead of getting angry, she looked away, her gaze moving along the boat’s deck. “They weren’t groundlings. We don’t eat groundlings.”

“They were people. And you’re still lying.”

She recoiled, still refusing to meet his gaze. “No one told me they were like groundlings! It’s hard! I don’t know what to do!” The dakti hissed at her. She hissed back, but grudgingly calmed herself. She added, as if determined to make sure everyone understood her rebuttal, “No one told me.”

It struck Moon, suddenly and horribly, how much this was like a conversation with stubborn fledglings. “How old are you?”

She looked at the dakti again. Then turned back to Moon as if one of them had answered some unspoken question. “Twenty turns.”

Twenty turns was barely old enough for an Aeriat to leave the nurseries. But she was still lying. “You know how to tell the difference between animals and people.”

She shook her head, but said, “We did break from the other flight, but it was earlier, back on land. We followed them here but we didn’t fight them until we saw you.” She tossed her head, clearly upset. “So it was partly not lying. They said we were a mistake. It was a mistake to make us. They said it didn’t work, they didn’t need us anymore.” The dakti all hissed in sad chorus.

Moon couldn’t believe this. The equivalent of an Aeriat fledgling was in apparently complete command of a Fell flight. “You’re all part Raksura.”

“No.” She looked up at the kethel. “Several.”

So there were some Fell still with them. “The ones who aren’t part Raksura obey you.”

“I killed the progenitor.” She ducked her head, shy and proud. “They like me better. I know to do things. We stole the other flying boat, the little one on the island, while the other flight’s kethel was tearing apart the big one and getting killed. The dakti made it work, and we used it to follow the waterlings who were following you.” She waited, as if hoping Moon would compliment this strategy.

“Tell him,” a soft, deep voice said. “If you wait longer, it’s worse.”

Moon flinched, staring. It was one of the dakti who had spoken. It said again, “Tell him.” It wasn’t a ruler speaking through it. Its lips were moving; it was speaking with its own voice.

She told it, “Maybe not. Maybe later.” She jerked her head toward Moon. “He’s sick now.”

The dakti had to be part Raksura too, even though it didn’t look like it. Moon had seen rulers show intense emotion when another ruler was killed, but he had never seen one treat a dakti as anything other than something to use and discard, never seen dakti seem to care about each other. Moon said, “Tell me what?”

The Fell queen stirred uneasily. The dakti said again, “It will be worse later.” The other two hissed in agreement.

She looked down at her curled toes, and said reluctantly, “One of the others is dead.”

The others. Moon went cold. But maybe she meant . . . “One of the other groundlings.”

“No. Other Raksura.”

No. Not that. Terror made Moon’s voice come out as a rasp, “You killed them.”

“No!” She held up her hands, flexed as if her claws were still there. “No. Tilen saw Raksura through the glass, all sleeping. He wanted to see closer and climbed inside. He saw one was dead and went out again and told me.”

“It’s true,” the dakti said.

Moon couldn’t think. It’s a mistake. It’s not true. But Vendoin had said I never meant for any of you to be harmed. He had thought she meant Magrim and maybe some of the other Kishan. He said, “Show me.”

River slipped back down the stairs, took Rorra’s arm, and hauled her into the cabin, hissing at her to be quiet when she tried to speak. He put her down and dropped the boots beside her, staying in a crouch to keep out of view of anything flying past the window. His heart pounded with terror, the pulse beat in his ears so loud it interfered with his hearing. It took effort to keep his voice even. “The Fell are here.”

Her eyes widened. “I thought—I heard the shouts and hoped the Raksura had woken and were fighting the Hians.”

River moved his spines in a negative, keeping part of his attention on the window. A kethel circled in the distance but no dakti climbed past the opening. He didn’t know why he was telling this to a sealing, as if she could help, but without her he was completely alone. “The Fell killed some of the Hians, but others got away. I saw them from the windows in the steering cabin.” He had watched as best he could while scrunching his body into the back corner of the cabin, trying to blend with the wall so the Fell didn’t see him through one of the big windows. He was still alive so he assumed they hadn’t spotted him. The Fell’s arrival had ruined his partially formed plan of following the flying boat until he could free the prisoners or report back to Jade where they had been taken. “The Hians took Bramble and Merit and Delin away with them.”

Rorra hauled her boots on, hurriedly buckling the straps. “But not Moon?”

“They tried; he’s still on deck.” Moon might have survived the fall, but River didn’t know how he could survive the dakti. “Are you still willing to use the fire weapon?”

She got her feet under her, and he reached down and caught her arm to help her stand. She wavered and he held on long enough to make sure she wasn’t going to collapse. “Yes, it’s our only chance.”

It was a terrible chance. River had himself and one sealing who had been poisoned half-unconscious. But the alternative was to sit here and wait for the Fell to eat them. “Come on.”

Fear gave Moon the strength to shove to his feet. He leaned on the wall to steady himself as the dakti surrounded him and the Fell queen moved down the deck toward the rear hatchway. He managed to get inside without falling but the stairway to the upper level loomed ahead. He grabbed the railing and tried to pull himself up but he was still so weak his muscles just refused to lift him. Hesitantly, the Fell queen reached for his arm. When he didn’t move to stop her, she took his arm and helped him up.

Moon swallowed with a dry throat and let her, gripping the railing to steady himself. Her skin felt dry and too warm. Not like Shade, who felt exactly like another Raksura.

They reached the upper passage and Moon pulled away from her, and staggered down to the open cabin door.

He heard breathing. It was labored, but they were breathing. Jade lay slumped on the floor in front of the bench, in her Arbora form, as if she had been trying to stand and collapsed. Her chest moved with her panting breath. Relief let Moon manage a step forward.

The others were all in their groundling forms, their scale patterns visible on their skin. Stone had fallen over onto the bench and Chime was curled on the floor. Balm lay sprawled near Jade. He couldn’t see if they were breathing and lunged forward to land on his knees near Chime. Frantically he felt for the pulse at their throats, finding faint movement. They were all alive. He twisted around, looking for the others.

Root and Song lay behind the stove, stretched out on the floor.

At first his eyes refused to see it. Root lay on his back, his breath a faint flutter like the others, and Moon wanted to see Song the same way. But there was a stillness to her body, an awkward stiffness to the way her limbs lay.

He crawled to her and touched her face. Her eyes were open, blank and staring and beginning to cloud. Her skin was waxy, the scale pattern partially faded from the bronze. Her blood was already cooling. She had been dead before the Fell arrived. There was blood mixed with vomit on her chin and chest.

Not really aware of what he was doing, Moon took the tail of his shirt and started to clean her face. Part of his brain was still working and he thought, Briar isn’t here. River isn’t here. Had they escaped? He knew Briar had eaten the poisoned food. They might be lying in a corner somewhere, left there by the Hians . . . He hoped they hadn’t fallen off the sunsailer.

Another dakti slung into the room and Moon flinched away from Song. The other dakti gathered around flinched too. The newcomer chittered at the Fell queen and the others hissed in response. The queen pushed to her feet and looked down at Moon. “Another flying boat is coming. This one has Raksura.”

Moon stared at her, uncomprehending. A flying boat with Raksura? Niran and Diar. It might be them. But had someone from the court come with them?

“They were following us, like we followed the waterlings.” She hissed, but apparently at herself. “I was stupid.” She looked down at Moon. “You come with us.”

Panic penetrated the numb shock. “No, I need to stay here.”

She hesitated. The dakti who had brought the news chittered in alarm. She said, “Better if you come with us. You can tell us what to do.”

If he could reason with her . . . “The Hians who left on the other flying boat have the weapon that was hidden in the city. I have to tell the other Raksura so they can stop them.”

She stared at him, her brow furrowing, and blinked in distress. She looked at the dakti. The one that seemed to be her advisor said, “Possible.”

The queen stood there, frozen for a heartbeat. Then she flowed into her scaled form, and said, “Bring him.”

Moon tried to stand but the dakti surged forward and grabbed his arms. Panic took over and he fought, tried to bite, but they half-dragged, half-carried him out and down the stairs, out onto the deck.

Outside he couldn’t see anything in the air but the kethel circling overhead. He couldn’t believe the flying boat, whoever was aboard it, was coming toward them and not fleeing as fast as it could.

The dakti were too small to fly with him. They put him down on the deck and the queen started toward him. Moon yelled, “No, stay away from me!”

To his surprise she did stop. She shook her head, confused and determined all at once. “We won’t hurt you! We won’t eat groundlings! We’re not like Fell!”

“You’re stealing a consort, just like the Fell who made you!”

“No, it’s not—That’s not—We need—We need something!” She flung her arms wide, confused, hopeless, determined. “We need help!”

Moon said, desperately, “Not from me!”

She hesitated, breathing hard. Moon had a moment to think that she would listen to him, that she would leave. Then she lunged for him.

A flash of green scales exploded out of the hatch and struck the Fell queen in the back. It’s River, Moon realized in astonishment. She staggered forward, then tossed River off.

River rolled and came up in a crouch, just as the distinctive thunk-whoosh of a fire weapon sounded almost from above.

It was the big weapon just below and behind the steering cabin. The fire shot out in a long stream. The dakti shrieked and scattered off the rail as it moved toward them. The weapon swung up and pointed toward the kethel arrowing down from above.

The queen snarled and pounced at River. River ducked the first blow, tried to lunge in at her belly. Blindingly fast, she clawed him across the chest and flung him away. River slammed into the wall, then fell forward and hit the deck boards so hard he bounced. The queen tensed to strike again. Moon shoved forward and flung himself over River. “No!”

Caught in mid-lunge, the queen stopped, her claws scraping against the deck. Moon stared up at her, expecting her to tear them both apart. River might already be dead. He wasn’t moving and the coppery odor of fresh blood hung in the air.

But Moon saw the instant when the blank rage went out of the Fell queen’s eyes and her expression turned to turned to confusion again. She stumbled back a step and looked up at the kethel. The one stooping over the ship immediately broke off, and the others circled back upward.

A dakti perched on the rail chittered to her. Her head jerked up and her gaze went to something in the sky to the west.

She snarled, threw one last look at Moon, then surged for the railing. She leapt into the air, the dakti leaping with her.

Watching them catch the wind and shoot upward toward the waiting kethel, Moon stared in bewilderment. He didn’t understand what could have made her give up and leave.

Then a large queen and half a dozen warriors thumped down on the deck from above. For an instant, Moon didn’t recognize any of them. Then the queen turned to him and he saw it was Malachite.