The Cloud Roads

Chapter Six

Moon reached the colony well ahead of Chime and Balm, finding and following the river back up the valley. As he circled the main structure, he identified the pillared terrace that belonged to the hunters by the hides drying on wooden racks. A dozen or so Arbora worked there, skinning something large and furry that had a double set of spiral horns. The place stunk of butchered meat and the acidic tang of whatever they used for tanning.

Moon landed and dumped the carcass on the paving, folded his wings, and shifted. He managed not to twitch when all the Arbora working in the court shifted too. He was going to have to get used to that.

They were all dressed roughly for the messy work, most wearing just ragged cloth smocks or leather kilts. All stopped their work to watch Moon with open curiosity. The one who stepped forward, eyeing the carcass as if he grudged its existence, said, “Well, you killed it. Did you bother to bleed—Oh, you did.” He had the heavyset build of most Arbora, and he was old, showing the signs of age that Moon was learning to recognize in Raksura. His hair was white and his bronze-brown skin had an ashy cast. Other than that he looked as tough as a boulder, with heavily muscled shoulders and a ridge of scar tissue circling his neck, as if something had tried to bite his head off. “I’m Bone,” he added, and kicked the carcass thoughtfully. “Do you want the hide? You’ve got first claim on it.”

“No. Give it to someone else.” It would have come in handy, but Moon hoped to be long gone before they could finish tanning it.

“Huh.” Bone looked as if he might argue, then subsided with a scowl.

That seemed to be it. Moon turned away, wanting to get out of there before Chime and Balm arrived. “Hey,” one of the hunters called out. Warily, he turned back. A woman, silver-gray threaded through her light-colored hair, sat on the steps and sharpened a skinning knife. She said, “Why are you staying down here in the Arboras’ bowers, instead of up there with the Aeriat?”

Moon suppressed an annoyed growl. He had had enough of this from the warriors; he didn’t need to hear it here, too. He said, “Do you have a problem with it?”

She snorted with amusement. “Not me.”

But Bone, still watching him, said, “That’s going to make trouble for you. You should move up there with them. It’d go easier on you.”

Moon shook his head, frustrated with all of it. All his turns trying to fit in had come to nothing, over and over again, and he was too weary to start the whole process again here. The Raksura could take him as he was. He said, “No, it wouldn’t.”

He caught movement overhead, and looked up to see Chime and Balm circling in. Moon shifted and jumped to the terrace roof, then up to the first ledge. He followed it around the outside of the building, to the passage that led to the back entrance into the teachers’ hall.

He was looking for somewhere to be alone, but there were more people here than he had expected. The curtains over the doorways and stairs had been lifted back, and a group of men and women at the end of the hall worked with bone spindles and distaffs, spinning masses of beaten plant fiber into yarn. Near the shallow fountain, Petal and a couple of younger Arbora played with five very active babies, all just old enough to toddle on unsteady legs.

Moon headed for his bower, hoping no one would notice him. But Petal greeted him, waving. “Moon, did you have good hunting?”

“It was all right.” Reluctantly, he stopped beside her. Before she could ask anything more, two figures, one green and one bright blue, crashed down the nearest stairway. They tumbled out onto the floor, spilling a few empty baskets and knocking over a clay jar.

Petal shouted, “Spring, Snow, stop that! What do you think is going to happen if you hurt your wings?”

It wasn’t until the two figures rolled to a halt and separated that Moon realized they were young, half-sized warriors, one male and one female, as wild and awkward as fledgling raptors. They both sat up and shifted, turning into thin and gawky children on the edge of adolescence. They stared wide-eyed at Moon, as startled to see him as he was to see them.

Petal got to her feet, eyeing them with exasperated affection. “The girl is Spring and the boy is Snow,” she told Moon. “They’re from Amber’s last clutch. She was Pearl’s sister queen.”

Amber was one of the queens who had died, Moon remembered. It seemed like he had heard about more dead Raksura than live ones. He was trying to think of a polite response when something grabbed his leg. He looked down, bemused to see one of the Arbora toddlers had shifted and was now trying to climb him like a tree. The rest of the clutch rolled on the floor in play, keeping the other teachers busy.

“Oh, Speckle, don’t.” Petal made a grab for her and the little girl ducked away agilely, still climbing.

“Speckle?” Moon caught the baby and lifted her up. She immediately sank her claws into his shirt, looking up at him with big, liquid brown eyes. Her gold-brown scales and tiny spines were still soft, and she smelled like a combination of groundling baby and Raksura. Moon’s heart twisted, and he reminded himself he planned to leave eventually.

“It almost makes sense when you know the rest of the clutch is Glint, Glimmer, Pebble, and Shell,” Petal said, prying little claws out of Moon’s sleeve as she tried to coax the baby to let go. “Most of us like to give our clutches similar names.”

“Does that mean you’re related to Flower?” Moon asked, still distracted as the baby stubbornly tightened her grip on him.

Petal laughed. “Distantly. She’s much older than I am. Chime, though, is clutch-mate to Knell and Bell. Knell is leader of the soldiers, and Bell is a teacher. The other two were mentors, but they died from the lung disease.” She hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “Chime wasn’t always a warrior.”

“He told me he used to be a mentor.” Moon ruffled Speckle’s frills. Keeping his attention on the baby, he asked casually, “Who is Balm related to?”

“She’s a warrior from a royal clutch, the same one Jade came from.” Sighing in exasperation, Petal tried to work her fingers under Speckle’s claws. “It’s not true, what they say about female warriors who come from royal clutches. They don’t all go mad because they think they’re failed queens.” She frowned a little and added, “It’s only happened to a few.”

So Jade had sent her clutch-mate to watch him? Or just to find out more about him and report back? Moon wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The warrior girl Spring was still watching them with wide eyes. She said suddenly, “There’s only two of us. The others died.”

“Where’s your clutch?” Snow demanded, half-hiding behind her.

Moon hesitated while Speckle gnawed on his knuckles with fortunately still-blunt baby teeth. He could accept the fact that Sorrow hadn’t been his mother, and that it was impossible for a consort to come from a clutch of Arbora. But it hadn’t changed anything. “They died.”

Petal managed to pry Speckle off Moon just as Flower hurried up the stairs from the common room. “Moon, good, you’re back.” She looked flustered and worried, her gossamer hair frazzled. “Pearl has called for a gathering.”

“A gathering?” Petal looked startled, and not a little alarmed, which made Moon’s hackles rise. She flicked a quick, worried glance at him. “Everyone?”

Flower gave her a grim nod. “Except the teachers who are watching the children, the soldiers guarding the lower entrances, and the hunters too far out to call back.”

Or very fast consorts who make it up to that air shaft when no one is looking, Moon thought, preparing to fade into the crowd.

Flower fixed her gaze on Moon, as if reading his thought, and added firmly, “And you are specifically included.”

Flower wanted Moon to come with her immediately, which he suspected meant she thought he might to try to escape in the confusion. She was right, but since she had grabbed his arm and immediately towed him out of the hall to the main stairwell, there wasn’t much opportunity for an unobtrusive exit.

People hurried in from the fields outside, and the outer terraces and courts. The crowd grew as they went up the stairs, higher and higher, much further up inside the building than Moon had been before. The steps were taller up here, almost too tall for the Arbora. It just confirmed Moon’s growing belief that the groundlings who had built this place had greatly exaggerated views of their physical size. Some of the Arbora shifted and skittered along the walls, using their claws on the reliefs and chinks in the stone. Flower stayed in her groundling form, and Moon found himself reaching down to take her hand and steady her as she climbed.

“Thank you,” she said, a little breathless. She glanced up at him, her brows quirking. “There’s no need to be nervous.”

Moon had thought he had kept his expression laconic, but maybe not. And he wasn’t the only one who was nervous; her hands were cold as ice. “Unlike you?”

She gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Very unlike me.”

The stairs took another turn, ending in a broad landing, and Moon was surprised to see Stone waiting there. As they reached him, Stone leaned down to take Flower’s other hand, and he and Moon lifted her up the last step. “I hate this damn place,” Stone muttered.

“Really?” Flower pretended to look startled. “And you’ve kept your views to yourself all this time?”

“Why do you hate it?” Moon asked, ready for any distraction. Only one archway led off the landing, opening into a narrow passage lined with glow-moss. The Arbora crowded down into it, talking in whispers, nervously jostling each other. At least the closed-in feeling was alleviated by the high ceiling, nearly three times Moon’s height.

Stone growled under his breath, causing several Arbora to give him wide berth. “It’s a dead shell. It’s not Raksura.”

“No one knows what that means except you,” Flower said, with the air of somone who had heard it all before. She turned to lead the way down the passage.

“That’s the problem,” Stone said after her.

As Moon followed her, Stone caught his arm. Twitchy already, Moon managed not to slam himself into the wall flinching away. As the Arbora flowed past them, Stone said softly, “Pearl is old, and she’s ill, and she’s stubborn.”

Moon nodded, thinking what Stone was mainly telling him was, Don’t panic.

Flower waited at the end of the passage where it opened into a larger chamber, and stood to one side so the others still filing in could get past her. “This is going to depend on a number of things that we have no control over,” she said softly, as Moon and Stone reached her.

Stone grunted agreement and stepped past her into the room. Moon fought down one last urge to escape and followed as the other Arbora made way for them.

The place was large and cave-like, with no openings to the outside except for a shaft in the center of the high roof. Sometime in the past, when the pyramid had first been built, this could have been a throne room, or the central mystery chamber of a temple. Vines had crept down through the open shaft, but they were discolored by a creeping white moss.

Everyone here was in groundling form, and the Arbora still crowded in, filling in the floor space near the door. The Aeriat were already here, standing on two broad stone ledges above the doorway and to the right. They were as distinctive as the Arbora; all tall, the women slim, small-breasted, the men lean. Is that all the warriors? Moon wondered, a little shocked. Stone had said the colony didn’t have enough Aeriat, but there were only a third as many here as the Arbora. And there were still more soldiers, teachers, and hunters who weren’t free to be here.

Moon saw Balm up on the ledge with the other warriors, pacing anxiously. Many of the warriors stared at him, and one dark-haired man glared with a familiar, angry intensity. That had to be River in his groundling form, and Moon was willing to bet the man next to him was Drift.

Chime stood on the floor with the Arbora, further down the wall with Petal and Bell, easily visible since he was nearly a head taller than most of them. Chime spotted Flower and made his way toward her, shouldering people aside, ignoring their objections.

The room went quiet, the murmur dying away. Moon scanned the shadows, trying to see what had caught the others’ attention. Scent didn’t tell him anything, since the whole place smelled of anxious Raksura.

Then, on a stone platform across the back of the room, a shadow moved. It spilled down the steps to the floor until a tall form stepped out of it into the light.

Her scales were brilliant gold, overlaid with a webbed pattern of deepest indigo blue. The frilled mane behind her head was like a golden sunburst, and there were more frills on the tips of her folded wings, on the triangle-shape at the end of her tail. She was a head taller than the tallest Aeriat, and wore only jewelry, a broad necklace with gold chains linking polished blue stones. As she moved into the center of the room, the air grew heavier. A stir rippled through all the assembled Raksura, an almost unconscious movement toward her. For the first time, Moon understood why Stone had said that queens had power over all of them; feeling the pull of it in himself turned him cold. I’m not one of them. I shouldn’t be here.

In a voice soft and deep as night, she said, “Where is he?”

Moon’s breath caught in his chest. Leaving, he thought, turning for the door. He would have made it, but Stone was fast even as a groundling, and caught his wrist.

Rather than be hauled forward like a criminal, Moon didn’t resist. He let Stone pull him to the front of the crowd, to the empty space in front of Pearl. As Stone let him go, Moon tried to shift, meaning to fly straight up the air shaft.

Nothing happened.

Moon’s mouth went dry. So Stone hadn’t exaggerated; she could keep them from shifting. He wished he knew if she was doing it to everyone, or just him.

Stone’s voice was neutral, his tone giving nothing away. “Pearl, this is Moon.”

She beckoned him forward with one deceptively delicate hand. Her claws were longer than his, and she wore rings on each finger, thick bands of gold woven with copper and silver.

It wasn’t until the back of her hand brushed his cheek that Moon realized he had taken two steps toward her, that he was within her reach. Her claws moved through his hair, the touch too light to scratch, and she cupped the back of his head, drawing him closer.

Moon looked into her eyes, heavy-lidded, sea-blue, and fathoms-deep, drawing him in. Her scent was strong and musky, but there was a trace of bitterness under it, too faint for him to place. It brought him back to his senses abruptly, and he tried to pull away from her. But sudden heat warmed his body, the tension flowing out of his spine.

That she could keep them all from shifting meant she was connected to them somehow, through mind or heart or something else, and Moon should have realized that. Should have realized the connection could go both ways. For a moment it was as if he was part of every other Raksura in the room, and he leaned toward her.

Then, as if she had judged it for the exact moment she felt his resistance fade, she said, “This was the best you could do.”

Her tone was calm, the warm purr of her voice unchanged. Moon blinked, so caught in her spell that for a heartbeat he didn’t understand. The whole room seemed to take a startled breath.

In that same tone, she continued, “A solitary, with no bloodline.”

Understanding hit him like a sudden slap. He jerked backward, but her hold on him tightened, her claws digging into his skin. Moon twisted out of her grip, the claws opening cuts across the back of his neck, snagging in the collar of his shirt. He fell back a few steps, out of her reach, baring his teeth.

Her lip curled, showing her fangs, and her tail lashed; growls echoed from the assembled warriors perched on the ledges, as if she was the one who had been insulted.

Moon spun on his heel, hissing up at them, furious and humiliated and ready to fight everybody in the room. The growls stopped as the warriors stirred uneasily. Apparently nobody wanted to fight, at least not while they were all trapped in groundling form.

“I didn’t bring him for you,” Stone said, his voice dry and acid in the silence.

The words broke the spell. Moon took a sharp breath, trying to clear his head and make himself think. He couldn’t feel that pull toward Pearl anymore, that connection to the others. There and gone so briefly, it had still left an empty place in his chest, as if something had been torn out of him. It was pure cruelty to let him feel that, to draw him into that, just to rip him away.

Pearl paced, her tail still lashing, her mane rippling with agitation. Cold edged her voice as she told Stone, “Solitaries live the way they do for a reason.”

Stone watched her, unmoved and unimpressed. “He wasn’t a solitary by choice. I told you how I found him.”

“And you have only his word for that.” Pearl stopped, half turning to show Stone her profile, as if she was reluctant to confront him. “What did you have to give him to bring him here?”

That was another slap. Moon gritted his teeth, looking away. Everything he had taken from them—food, the clothes he was wearing, even Stone’s protection while he was poisoned—flashed through his head. He had accepted it all with the idea that he would act as one of their warriors; Pearl had to know that. She wanted to drive him away, and he knew why.

That Moon was here as a potential consort for Jade somehow gave the younger queen power, taking it away from Pearl. Moon hissed under his breath. If Pearl wanted to drive him out, she was going to have to try a lot harder than this.

As if called by his thought, another voice, sharp with irony, said, “I’ve left gifts. He’s taken none of them.” The warriors on the ledge parted abruptly for a light blue form, the only other Raksura in the room who hadn’t shifted to groundling. She stepped off the ledge and landed lightly on the paving. She was smaller than Pearl, the same height as the other warriors. The silver-gray pattern overlaying her scales was less complex than Pearl’s brilliant indigo, and the frilly spines of her mane weren’t as elaborate. Her jewelry was silver, rings, armbands, and bracelets, and a belt worn low above the hips with polished ovals of amethyst and opal. Moon had only caught two glimpses of her before, but this was clearly Jade.

She stalked forward, radiating barely contained irritation, her gaze on Pearl. “The things he accepted from the Arbora are only what they would give in hospitality to any visitor.” Her voice hardened into a snarl. “Try your claws on me, why don’t you.”

Pearl moved away from her, her lip curling in contempt. “You’re a child. You have no responsibility in this court and you’ve made no attempt to assume any.”

Jade’s laugh held little amusement. “You say that as if it’s what you want.”

Stone broke the moment. “That isn’t what we came here to discuss. The Arbora want to go to a new colony. Our lines haven’t flourished here, and you know it as well as the rest of us do. All the consorts of my line are dead, Rain is dead, and your last clutch didn’t survive to—”

Pearl rounded on him, hissing. “I don’t need you to remind me of that!”

Evenly, unaffected by her anger, Stone said, “Then what do you need?”

After a moment she stepped away from him, shaking her head. “We have too many Arbora and too few Aeriat. We can’t leave this place, not now.” Her hands curled into fists. “I’ve waited too long. I take the blame for that.”

Flower stepped forward and suddenly had the attention of the entire room. It gave Moon some insight into just how much power the mentors actually held. Among all the larger Arbora and the tall warriors, Flower should have been a slight, insignificant figure, but every Raksura here turned to listen. She said, “It’s not too late. There are ways around the lack of Aeriat. We don’t all have to go at once. We can make the journey in stages.”

Pearl hesitated, though Moon couldn’t tell if she was giving the suggestion serious thought or not. Then she paced away. “It’s too dangerous. We would die in stages.”

His voice tight with irony, Stone said, “We’re dying here, and that started before you let the Fell in.”

Pearl turned toward him, her mane flaring in challenge. “What do you want from me?”

“You know what I want.” Stone let the words hang in a fraught silence. When Pearl looked away, he said, “I’ll settle for your word that you’ll agree to move the court if I can get the means to transport the Arbora safely.”

Pearl laughed, more annoyed than amused. “Your plan is ridiculous,” she said, sounding exasperated. “I think your mind has finally turned.”

Stone smiled, showing his teeth. It was somehow a far more threatening gesture than it should have been, and a ripple of unease went through the ranks of warriors. But he only said, “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

Pearl watched him a moment more, then she turned her gaze to Moon, contempt in every line of her body. “I want your solitary gone from this court.”

Moon glared narrowly back at her and tried to shift, tried it with everything he had. He felt the change gather in his body, felt it burn in his chest, but he couldn’t push past whatever power Pearl still held over him. But when he said, “Then make me leave,” it came out in the deeper rasp of his shifted voice.

Pearl’s face twisted into a snarl. “Get out of my sight!”

That he was willing to do. Moon snarled and turned for the door, barely noticing as the Arbora scattered out of his way. He strode down the passage to the landing, every step further away from Pearl’s presence a relief. The others came out behind him, and he pounded down the stairs until he felt the pressure in his chest ease and knew he could shift again.

He left the stairs at the next landing, and headed blindly down a corridor until he found an opening to the outside. He shifted and jumped out, meaning to glide down to the foot of the pyramid. His head still swam from the effort of trying to shift against Pearl’s restraint, his heart pounded with rage.

Distracted, he sensed something above him and snapped into a sideways roll. A dark green warrior shot past him, his stooping dive turning into an awkward tumble. Moon felt his lips pull back from his fangs in a silent snarl. They weren’t high enough in the air to play this game.

He turned back toward the pyramid and landed on a broad ledge. Hissing angrily, the warrior banked around and tried to angle in at him, his wings beating hard. Idiot, Moon thought.

Moon leapt up, caught the warrior’s ankle and yanked him out of the air. The hissing turned into an outraged yowl, cut off abruptly as Moon swung him against the upper ledge. The warrior snapped his wings in to protect them and tried to dig his claws into the stone to scrabble away. Moon pulled him down, caught him by the throat, and pinned him to the wall. The warrior bared his fangs; he could have sunk his claws into Moon’s wrists, or lifted a foot and tried to disembowel him. Moon should have torn his throat out.

Instead, he followed an instinct he didn’t know he had, and drew himself up, flared his spines out, and leaned in. The warrior’s eyes went narrow as he tried to avoid Moon’s gaze. Then his spines, crushed against the stone, began to wilt as the furious resistance leaked out of his body. Knowing his point was made, Moon said softly, “Don’t do that again.”

The warrior jerked his head in response. Moon released his throat and stepped back. He half-expected to be tackled off the ledge and for it all to start over again, but instead the warrior shifted to groundling. He was a lanky boy, turns younger than Moon, with a shock of red hair, dark copper skin, and a deeply embarrassed expression.

Several warriors circled the air above them, and Moon was sure two of them were River and Drift. No one else dove for him. Moon turned and leapt off the ledge again.

He glided down toward the teachers’ court. As he landed on the soft grass, he startled a flock of tiny flying lizards. They burst into alarmed retreat in a flurry of gold and violet wings.

Moon shifted back to groundling, and there he stopped, leaning one hand against the gritty, moss-covered stone of a pillar. He wanted to get out of this place. He wanted to fly in the cool air or float in the river, but he didn’t want anyone to think for one heartbeat that he had run away. At least there’s no question of fitting in anymore, he told himself bitterly. That bird had flown a long time ago.

Stone’s great dark form landed in the center of the court, crushing some flowering bushes and almost flattening a small tree. He set Flower on her feet and then shifted to groundling.

“That went well,” Flower said dryly, as they started toward Moon. She winced. “Moon, you’re still bleeding.”

“Let me see.” Stone reached for him. Moon jerked away with a half-voiced snarl. Stone cuffed him in the head so hard Moon stumbled into the pillar. “Stop that. And don’t shift,” Stone snapped.

Moon subsided, unwillingly, remembering that he really didn’t want to fight Stone. Flower hurried away, disappearing through the archway into the common room. Stone took Moon’s shoulder and turned him around, pushing his head down to look at the cuts.

“Ow,” Moon muttered.

“You shut up. Flower—”

“Here.” Flower was back, handing Stone a wet cloth that smelled of something earthy.

Stone pressed it to the back of Moon’s neck. Whatever was on it stung at first, then cooled the cuts. Stone said, quietly, “Pearl isn’t... It’s not supposed to be that way.”

Moon set his jaw. “You said she was sick, not...” So bitterly angry that she was blind to everything. “What’s wrong with her?”

“We don’t know.” Flower leaned on the pillar, looking up at him, a sad twist to her mouth. Other Arbora had reached the court, gathering in the common room and talking in soft, worried voices. “It could be disease, or just all the loss. Her last two queens’ clutches, the ones that should have given Jade consorts and sister queens, were stillborn. Then Rain died. He was the last of the consorts of her generation.”

“It isn’t always this bad.” Stone sounded weary. “She was better yesterday.” To Flower, he said, “We need to make plans. Send someone to get the maps.”

“Petal already has.” Flower tugged on Stone’s arm. “That should be enough. The grenilvine works quickly.”

Stone pulled the cloth away and stepped back. Moon turned around, feeling the back of his neck, startled to find scabs instead of open cuts. Flower took the blood-stained cloth away from Stone and stood on her tiptoes to look at the wound. She nodded to herself, patted Moon on the arm, and walked back inside.

Stone watched him, giving nothing away. “Are you staying?”

Moon had regained enough self-control not to snarl the answer. “I said I would.”

Stone’s smile was a thin line. “Yes, you did.” He turned away, and Moon followed him into the common room.

He caught many sideways glances, worried, uncomfortable, unreadable. Petal, Rill, and several others pulled cushions and mats out of the way, clearing a large space on the floor. More Arbora came in; Moon recognized Knell, the leader of the soldiers, and Bone and some of the other hunters. Balm and several other warriors followed them in; they looked uneasy, but no one objected to their presence.

Then Chime and Bell carried in a big, rolled-up hide, nearly twelve paces long. They put it down on the floor and unrolled it, pulling the edges to spread it out.

Moon stepped closer, unwillingly interested. It was a map, carefully drawn in black, blue, green, and red inks on the soft surface of the hide. Everything was drawn in broad strokes, with mountains, rivers, and coastlines sketched in lightly. He had never seen a map this large, showing such a vast area of the Three Worlds.

“We’re here.” Stone stepped out onto the map and tapped a spot with his foot. It was a star shape next to the blue line of a river. “From here, I could get across and out of the river valleys in three or four days.” His brows drew together as he studied the faded ink below his feet. “That’s eleven or twelve days for our warriors, more when they’re carrying Arbora. And we still have a long way to go after that.”

“Eleven?” Distracted, Moon padded across the map, looking for the Cordans’ valley so he could trace their route here. Stone’s pace, judging by the trip from Sky Copper, was one day to what would have been three at Moon’s pace. “You mean nine.”

“I mean eleven,” Stone said. “Consorts and queens fly faster than full grown warriors. And I wouldn’t be pushing them as hard as I pushed you. You’ll get faster as you get older and bigger; they won’t.”

Moon grimaced—something else he hadn’t realized. He had noticed that Chime and Balm flew at a more leisurely pace, but had thought that was just because they hadn’t been in a hurry. He found the spot that might be the Cordans’ river and followed it up into the vague outlines of a mountain range.

Balm said, “But Pearl was right. We have more Arbora than Aeriat, plus we’d have to carry supplies for the journey, and everything we’ll need at the new colony. It would be taking an awful chance to split up the court like that.”

Knell the soldier seconded that with a grim nod. He was powerfully built like Bone, but not nearly as grizzled and scarred. “It would take several trips, and we’d be vulnerable both here and at the new place. It would give the Fell plenty of time to attack.”

Bone scratched the scar on his chest. “You could abandon most of us.”

Several people hissed at him, Aeriat and Arbora. Stone gave him a bored look. “And we could all eat each other before the Fell arrive. That would solve our problems, too.”

“Now that we’re done with the daft suggestions,” Flower prompted. “Anyone have anything sensible to say?”

Moon crouched to examine the area where he thought Star Aster might be, but the places indicated were all marked with glyphs in a language he couldn’t read. He said to Stone, “So you’re thinking of something to transport everyone in. Like a boat?” Though navigating an unknown river could be almost as slow and dangerous as walking.

One of the smaller Arbora, sitting at the edge of the map, asked, “What’s a boat?”

“It’s a thing some races of groundlings use to travel on water,” Petal explained.

And there’s that, Moon thought wryly. None of the Raksura would know how to sail or navigate a river.

But Stone said, “Like a boat.” He turned, taking another pace across the map. “Have you ever heard of the Yellow Sea?”

Moon watched him, frowning. “No.”

Flower walked over to stand next to Stone, thoughtfully twisting a lock of her hair. “It’s a shallow sea, very shallow, barely a few paces deep in some stretches. Something in the water makes everything yellow—the sand, the plants.”

Stone nudged a spot on the map with his foot. “There’s a groundling kingdom out there, a remnant of one of the flying island empires. They have flying boats. Raksura have treated with them before, and I’ve been out there a few times.”

Flower nodded slowly. “That could work, if the boats are large enough.” She lifted a brow, giving Stone an annoyed look. “How long have you had this in mind?”

“Not long.” He nodded to Moon. “When I went back to your flying island, I looked at the books you found. That got me thinking about other possibilities than just carrying the Arbora.”

Moon shrugged noncommittally. He remembered the pictures of the people with tentacles. If the flying boats were more manageable than carriages on the backs of giant birds, it might work.

“You want to transport the Arbora in a flying boat?” Knell said, staring at Stone as if he had shifted and managed to end up with a second head.

Stone lifted his gray brows, fixing a concentrated stare on Knell. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Knell stepped back off the map, making a helpless gesture. “It sounds crazy.”

“We could still be attacked while we’re moving,” one of the other soldiers said uncertainly.

Flower still stared down at the blot of delicate color that marked the Yellow Sea, brows knit in concentration. “We could be attacked while moving in the conventional way. With these flying boats, we could move all at once, and perhaps faster, and the warriors would be free to fight.”

“And we could bring more of our belongings,” Petal said. She had taken a seat at the edge of the map, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Like the anvils for metal-working. I couldn’t think how we were going to move those.”

There was a murmur of agreement from around the room.

“How do we get their boats?” a younger male warrior asked, sounding baffled by the whole idea. “Steal them?”

“You could buy them,” Moon pointed out, exasperated. These people were hopeless. “You’ve got silk cloth, furs, metals, gems. You could buy anything you wanted in most of the civilized cities in the Three Worlds.”

Stone gave the young warrior the I can’t be bothered to deal with your stupidity look Moon knew well from their travels together, then said to the rest of the gathering, “We could bargain to use the boats just for the journey. It’s not like we’ll need the things once we get where we’re going. Like Moon said, we have goods we can offer them in exchange.”

“We have to try.” Flower glanced at Stone. “Will you go to speak to them?”

“I’ll go,” a new voice said. It was Jade, standing in the outer doorway. She was still in her other form, her wings folded, so weary that her mane was nearly flat. Moon felt everyone looking at him, or trying not to look at him, and tried not to react. Jade continued, “Stone should be here if the Fell return. And I’ve heard the stories about the Yellow Sea. Solace and Sable and a flight of warriors first visited the groundlings there.” She lowered her head, the scales on her forehead rippling as she frowned. “They were a sister queen and her consort, from an earlier generation.”

Moon knew she was talking to him; everyone else had to know the story already. Before he could decide whether to reply, Flower cleared her throat and said, “You’ll need to take some warriors, so that would make it a two day flight, but we still need time to pack up the colony. Historically, we’re supposed to be able to migrate at a moment’s notice, but I think that’s a bit optimistic since we haven’t actually had to do it for generations.”

Jade nodded. “And we are asking the Yellow Sea groundlings to trust us with their boats, even though we’re going to offer them payment. The request will sound better coming from a queen.” She added, more grimly, “And it will get me out of Pearl’s way.”

“There’s a thought.” Stone eyed Moon in a way Moon didn’t like. He wasn’t surprised when Stone said, “I want you to go with her.”

The room was very quiet. Moon knew he didn’t have a choice. Refusing would mean embarrassing Jade in front of her people. Considering his own recent public humiliation, he had no intention of inflicting that on anyone else. Especially since she had defended him to Pearl. Moon said, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective breath of relief.

Chime, who had managed to keep quiet up to this point, said, “Has anyone thought about the fact that even if we get the boats, Pearl didn’t agree to leave?”

“Yes, we’ve thought of that.” Stone’s gaze was on the map. “I’ll deal with it.”

Moon thought that sounded like a threat, but he admitted that he wasn’t the best judge.

After that, the talk turned to the details of the journey, who else Jade would take with her, what Stone had found the last time he had visited there, the possible dangers along the way, and what they would offer the Yellow Sea groundlings. Clouds had come in from the north, and a light rain had started, pattering the leaves in the court. Moon sat beside the archway, just out of reach of the rain, and worked on listening unobtrusively, something he thought he hadn’t done enough of lately.

Finally Jade and the other Aeriat left for the upper levels of the colony, Stone disappeared, and the Arbora broke up into groups to talk about moving the court. Moon slipped away, going back up the stairs to the bowers.

There were still too many people around, so he went up to one of the less-occupied halls, where a doorway to the outside overlooked the river. He shifted and climbed up the wall above the archway, looped his tail around one of the stone projections there and hung upside down from it, coiling up to wrap his wings around himself. He needed to think, and had always found this a particularly restful position to do it in. He had no idea if this was acceptable Raksuran behavior, not that it mattered. Practically spitting in the queen’s face probably isn’t acceptable either. He was also well above eye level here, and in the shadow above the doorway; if she sent any warriors to force him to leave the court, it was just as well if they couldn’t find him. He didn’t want to kill anybody and interfere with Stone’s plans.

The journey tomorrow with Jade would be an uncomfortable experience. He didn’t know if she could do to him what Pearl had done—draw him into that bond—or if it was only something that the reigning queen could do. He had no intention of ever being within Pearl’s reach again, and Jade... now he knew to be wary. He didn’t think either one of them could keep him in that state against his will, but Pearl had seduced him so easily. He didn’t want to fall into that trap again.

After a time, he realized someone was nearby. He pulled the edge of his wing down to see Flower sitting cross-legged on the floor below him, looking out at the river. Without looking up, she said, “Don’t mind me. I use this window for augury when the wind is from the south. I doubt anyone else would have seen you up there.”

Moon twisted around to look out. The plume trees along the river bank waved slightly in the breeze, and higher up above the valley a small flock of yellow birds swooped and dived, bright against the gray clouds. “What are you auguring?”

“The prospects for your trip to the Golden Isles. I’m trying to read it out of the effect of the wind on those birds.”

A bird swooped low, catching an updraft to soar back up to where the others circled. The only portent Moon could read was a bad one for the insects caught in the breeze. “Does it look good?”

“It says that the journey should be made, but then we knew that already. It says that Stone is right, that the Islanders are likely to listen to Jade’s request. What it says about the outcome of the journey... is confusing, and useless.” Flower frowned absently. “Can I ask you a question?”

This is why you should keep your mouth shut, Moon told himself, but fair was fair. “Yes.”

Her eyes still on the birds, she said, “When did you stop looking for others?”

Moon couldn’t pretend not to know what she meant. “A long time ago.” He wondered if she could read the truth of his answers in the wind, in the way the birds banked and tilted their wings. To deflect further questions on that topic, he added, “I lived in a lot of groundling cities.”

She nodded slowly. “Most groundlings aren’t meant to live alone either, I suppose. But then we’re born in fives, and clutches are always raised together. Or at least, that’s the way it’s supposed to work.”

“So we are born like groundlings. Not in... eggs.” Moon had been wondering. Five births at once seemed a lot for a groundling woman.

Flower did him the courtesy of not looking incredulous at his ignorance. “Yes, we are born like groundlings. But our young are smaller, though they do grow more quickly, and can walk and climb much faster than most groundlings.” She smiled. “It’s why the teachers always look so tired.”

Moon let his wings unfurl and hang down, stretching. The scratches from Pearl’s claws had nearly vanished, and barely pulled at his scales. “So why is it such a terrible thing to be a solitary?”

She lifted her brows, considering the question. “We’re not meant to live alone. It’s generally assumed that Raksura who do were forced to leave their court because of fighting or other unwanted behavior.” She leaned back to look up at him. “Since young consorts are prized above any other birth except for queens, it just makes it look worse.”

Well, that figures, Moon thought dryly. He had, after all, no proof whatsoever that he hadn’t been thrown out of a court—except for his encompassing lack of knowledge about all things Raksuran, which Stone at least could vouch for.

Flower’s mouth was a rueful line. “Stone said there were four Arbora with you that didn’t survive. I suppose, if the warrior did steal you, she might have brought the others along to keep you company. But if she was escaping some disaster, she might have just grabbed you and as many other children as she could manage.”

Not that that was any better. “So if we’re born in fives, there was at least one more of their clutch that she left behind to die so she could bring me.”

“I was actually trying to be comforting.” Flower sighed, and there was something far away in her eyes. “Moon, there’s something I don’t think you know. Queens are born with power, but a consort’s power comes with age. When you spoke in your shifted voice to Pearl—Only a consort coming into maturity could have done that.”

Moon felt mature already. Most days, he felt elderly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” Flower stood, her shabby skirt falling into place around her. “We don’t use magic; we’re made of magic, and you can’t run away from that.”

Watching her walk away, Moon thought, I can try.