by Martha Wells
Delin took Merit’s arm and tucked it into his own. “I have him.”
Moon followed last as Stone led the way to the wall and then along it. He could see the shape of other structures outlined against the sky, curving up from the ruin’s base. Moon wondered if the buildings had sprouted from the floor of the bay somehow, if the whole ruin had lifted up into the sky. No, from the scents they had to be inland.
Ahead, Stone hissed, “Doorway.”
They passed under an overhang that blocked the faint light and Moon sensed it was an open cave-like space. His spines twitched with nerves. He didn’t scent any living things, but in a strange place anything could be possible. Merit said, “Wait, I think the Fell poison’s worn off. I can make a light.” He still sounded weak, but the more you were exposed to the poison, the quicker it seemed to wear off. And Merit and Bramble must have been given a lot of it in a fairly short time.
“Are you sure you should?” Bramble asked Merit, her voice raspy with nerves.
“Well, no, but . . .” Merit sounded a bit more like himself. “We need to see.”
Delin handed Merit something, and after a moment, it began to gently glow. Moon lifted his wings to block the light, in case anyone was watching from the nearby flying boat. The object was a knotted up head scarf, and either the cloth just couldn’t be made to put out much light, or Merit wasn’t able to put much power into it. It revealed a pitted stone wall of dark blue, and the edge of a curved doorway. Stone took the scarf and stepped inside, saying, “Wait here.”
Moon hissed as the light moved away from the door. He caught a glimpse of a polished dark floor, but that was all. It wasn’t a good idea for Stone to go alone, but there wasn’t much choice. After some long tense moments when he could hear Bramble’s claws click and Callumkal’s labored breathing, the light returned. “Come on,” Stone whispered.
Moon urged the others forward. They followed Stone inside and up a structure that might be a curving staircase, or a set of shelves, or just an ornamental arrangement of blocks. Whatever it was, it got them to an elevated platform with a round window, looking out under an overhang that would hopefully hide their light from the flying boat.
Stone stuffed the glowing scarf half under his pack to shield it as Moon helped Bramble lower Callumkal to the floor. Moon turned the waterskin and the last of their food out of his pack, then gave the pack to Bramble to pillow Callumkal’s head. Delin sank down beside him, and said, “How glad I am to see you, my friends, if I did not make that plain before.”
“We’re glad to see you, too,” Moon said. The platform had pillars partially shielding it from the larger portion of the chamber, giving them some feeling of protection. “Here’s food and water.”
“Is Song really dead?” Merit asked suddenly. “I heard you tell Bramble—I thought I heard—”
“It’s true,” Moon said. He was glad it was too dark to read expressions. Bramble reached over to squeeze Merit’s wrist.
Stone said, “Drink some water.”
Merit shook his head. “I feel sick.”
Stone said, “Drink the water anyway,” in a tone that didn’t leave any option for argument.
Bramble wet a corner of a blanket and patted Callumkal’s face. He made a faint breathy noise but didn’t wake. “Were they keeping him drugged?” Moon asked.
“We don’t know.” Delin took a drink from the waterskin and passed it to Merit again. “We were not permitted to see him.”
Disjointedly, Delin and Bramble told the story of their captivity, with Merit putting in the occasional detail. Moon listened, and watched Stone, who sat beside a pillar where he had a good view of the dark bowl of the chamber. No one had said “Where are we?” again yet, which Moon was glad of, since he didn’t have an answer. The more time he had to think about it, the more worried he got.
He hoped that once dawn broke, they would be able to figure out what had happened. South was still where south had been before the ruin had done whatever it had done, so they must have moved back or forward, and not up or down the coast. Pretty far backward or forward, since beside the lack of sea scent, the air movement was coming from the wrong direction.
“Bramble managed to arrange it so she and I were held together, but poor Merit was alone, as was Callumkal,” Delin was saying.
“I’m sorry about that,” Bramble told Merit. “It seemed like the best way to try to escape.”
“No, that was the plan, I understood,” Merit said, absently, his mind clearly on something else. He sounded stronger, as if the effect of whatever had happened was fading. Then he said, “Um.”
Moon knew that tone, the one he hated to hear coming from a mentor. He said, “Merit, what’s wrong?”
Merit hesitated, and said, “Bramble, do you have a headache?”
“Yes,” she said. She added defensively, “It’s been a rough day.”
Merit continued, “And you feel sick in your stomach, and maybe a little dizzy.”
“Yes?” Bramble was uncertain now.
Delin said, “That describes my symptoms perfectly.”
“Right.” Merit didn’t seem pleased to have his guess confirmed. “Moon and Stone?”
Moon had a bad feeling about this. “I’m tired, but not sick.” In the faint light, he saw Stone had turned his head to see Merit, the light catching his profile.
Stone said, “I’m fine.”
Merit took a sharp breath. “That’s what I was afraid of. There’s mentor teaching about what happens if an Aeriat has to carry an Arbora high up in the air, much higher than they would normally fly. Like when we went up to the top of the foundation builder city’s escarpment. The air is different up there, thinner. Arbora aren’t made for going up fast the way Aeriat are. Basically it says an Arbora should be carried up slowly to that height, to give them time to get used to it.”
“You didn’t mention that at the time,” Moon had to say.
“I didn’t want to slow us down, and it didn’t bother me much. The wind was so bad we didn’t go up very fast, anyway,” Merit said. “Everyone felt bad afterward.”
Stone said, “Merit, get to the point.”
“Bramble and Delin and I have the symptoms of going up too fast. I think that’s what happened. I think we went up very high, very fast. Higher than the foundation builder city or the top of a sea-mount.” Merit lifted his hands, baffled. “And it’s cool, but the air isn’t thin up here, like it should be on top of a mountain.”
“Up where?” Bramble asked. “I mean, what are we sitting on? Is the ruin floating?”
There was nothing above us, Moon thought. Except the cloudwall. Uh oh. “It couldn’t be the cloudwall,” he said. “Could it?”
Delin buried his head in his hands and groaned. “The Cloudwalls, or the World Walls, as they are called sometimes, are seen in the southern regions and said to be seen in the far west, and thought to be a trick of the eye, caused by the light and weather. That is what I’ve always heard. There are stories of flying boats that try to approach a cloudwall and it seems to recede before them.”
“I bet we’re on the cloudwall.” Stone sighed. He rubbed his eyes and looked out across the dark chamber.
“What’s the cloudwall?” Bramble asked, bewildered.
Moon realized she must not have been allowed any kind of view outside the Hians’ flying boat. “It’s like a giant flying island, or bunch of flying islands, it’s hard to tell. It’s so high up, we thought we were looking at a cloud bank at first. When we got closer, we could see it was solid but we couldn’t tell much more about it.” He added, “Before I jumped off the boat with Callumkal, I saw Lavinat with the weapon.”
Stone snarled. Merit said, “But why would the weapon take us up here? Unless it’s not a weapon after all and Vendoin’s been wrong all this time.”
“No, it’s a weapon,” Bramble said. “Delin and I were there when Aldoan used it on the Fell and died. It almost killed me.” She twitched uncomfortably. “Vendoin knew she ne
eded to take the weapon somewhere else, to where the rest of it was, and I bet she thought the ruin on the beach was the right place. But if it’s going to kill all the Fell and Raksura from here to the eastern end of the Abascene, it needs to be up high. Like casting a net. You get more from a better vantage point.”
They all absorbed that in silence. Shocked, Moon said, “ . . . what?”
Stone repeated, slowly, “Kill all the Fell and Raksura from here to the Abascene?”
“Yes,” Delin said, “that was her plan. That was what she believed this weapon could do. The death of the Fell in the trading city was an accident. She had no intention of using it on a small scale.”
Merit said, “But how does—”
Stone snapped, “Quiet.”
The others froze. Moon tasted the air and sat up into a crouch, braced to move. After a heartbeat, Stone hissed, “That makes this whole shitting day complete.”
“What?” Moon demanded. Then he caught the scent, the trace of Fell stench.
“It’s the kethel.” Stone shoved to his feet and jumped off the platform.
Moon controlled a growl of annoyance. Of course, the kethel hadn’t stayed behind. It had intended to steal the weapon and had probably meant to do it while they were still in the middle of the rescue.
“Kethel?” Bramble whispered. “The Fell are here?”
“A kethel from the flight of the half-Fell queen has been following us,” Moon explained wearily. “We told it to stay back off the beach, but it must have followed us into the ruin.”
There was silence from the other three. Delin lifted his head to stare blankly at Moon. Merit said finally, “You . . . told . . . it?”
“It’s a long story,” Moon said.
Below, they heard Stone’s voice, too low to catch the words, and the kethel’s deeper voice replying. It sounded defensive. Moon rubbed his face. “I didn’t know kethel could talk,” Bramble said. “Oh, it must be part Raksura?”
“No. It was raised by the Fellborn queen.”
“Is Stone going to kill it?” Merit asked hopefully.
“He hasn’t so far,” Moon said. He thought of trying to explain to the others that it would be weird to do it now, unprovoked, when the kethel had been persistently helpful. It sounded even stranger in his head so he decided not to try. “We’re pretty certain the kethel was sent to get the weapon for the Fellborn queen, but it keeps talking to us, and . . . it’s a long story.”
Stone was returning, and they could hear him say, “—stay down here, or I’ll tear your head off.” Stone climbed the steps again, snarling in exasperation.
“Where was it?” Moon asked.
“It said it was on the causeway.” Stone took a seat. He sounded resigned and furious. “It said everything went dark and it was falling through the air, until it could land on one of these pod-things.”
“I need to tell you something,” the kethel said from below.
Merit flinched in alarm and edged closer to Moon. “That’s a kethel?” Bramble whispered, astonished.
“‘Need’ or ‘want’?” Stone asked.
There was a pause while the kethel thought that over. Then it said, “Another flying boat.”
Startled, Moon said, “What?”
“Where?” Stone demanded.
“Another flying boat in the ruin, before the ground went strange.” The kethel added, “Is that need or want?”
Moon had the feeling Stone was inadvertently teaching the kethel how to be sarcastic. That wasn’t going to work out for anybody.
Stone said, “Where in the ruin?”
“The edge,” the kethel repeated. “Back near where I was.”
“What did it look like?” Moon asked.
There was a moment of silence. “A boat that flies,” the kethel said pointedly.
Stone hissed under his breath. Moon gathered his patience for another try. Then the kethel’s head popped up between the pillars suddenly and everyone flinched back. It blinked in the light from the glowing scarf, taking in Merit, Bramble, Delin, and the unconscious Callumkal without any reaction. Merit warily drew back, edging behind Moon. Bramble whispered, “That’s not a kethel. That can’t be. It’s not—”
“It is,” Delin whispered back. “His face. The fangs. They have been shortened, but—”
Merit made a noise in his throat and tucked himself against Delin’s side.
The kethel seemed to ignore them. It said, “I could show you.”
Stone didn’t respond immediately. Moon didn’t like the idea of having to move the Arbora and Delin in the dark, while following a kethel. Even this kethel.
Then Bramble said, “Oh, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”
Still watching the kethel, Stone tilted his head toward her. “What?”
“I put poison in the cistern on the Hians’ flying boat.”
Moon turned to stare at her. “Poison?”
“You managed it?” Delin was startled.
“What poison was it?” Merit asked.
“We’re not sure. Delin figured out the symbols on the waterskins but—”
Moon caught her shoulders and turned her to face him. “When did you do this?”
“It wasn’t long before you got there,” Bramble said. “I don’t know if it’s had time to work. With everything that happened, they probably weren’t thinking much about eating and drinking.” She gasped and looked at Callumkal. “You don’t think—Maybe that’s what made him sick—”
Maybe, but there was no point in worrying about it when there was nothing they could do. Moon said, “No, it’s probably the drugs the Hians gave him.” He looked toward Stone. “They won’t all get it at once, like we did. If everyone who has a drink of water passes out, the others will realize it’s in the cistern.”
“It depends on how long it takes them to realize it.” Stone sounded thoughtful. “Vendoin told you most simples don’t work on Hians, so it might not do much to them.”
Sounding frustrated, Bramble said, “I was in a hurry, and we didn’t know what else to—”
Moon told her, “We’re not criticizing you, Bramble. We’re trying to think what to do next.”
Bramble dropped her head and said miserably, “I had a really hard day.”
Moon squeezed her wrist. “It’s all right.” He still thought the first thing they had to do was find the other flying boat. It could be more Hians, coming to help Vendoin, but he was betting it was Jade and the others. He stood and went to the edge of the platform, crouching to get eyelevel with the kethel. “Will you show me where the other flying boat is?”
Stone shook his head. “No, we can’t risk—”
Moon told him, “I’ll go alone. We have to find out if it’s the wind-ship or not.”
Stone glared at him, lifting his brows. Moon hissed, “I know.” He knew he was going off alone in the dark with a kethel in a strange place that might be on the cloudwall to look for a possibly non-existent flying boat that might actually be full of Hians instead of their friends.
The kethel looked from Moon to Stone and back. It said, “I’ll show you.”
Stone turned to meet its gaze. He said, “If you don’t come back, I’ll come find you.”
Stone kept his voice even, but he managed to convey his message. The kethel recoiled a little, and said reproachfully, “We come back, old consort.”
“Moon . . .” Bramble whispered in protest. Merit’s eyes were huge and Delin’s brow furrowed in worry.
“It’ll be all right,” Moon told them, and leapt down the steps.
The kethel dropped lightly to the floor near him, and went through the door out to the ledge.
Moon followed. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he could see the kethel’s outline against the starlit darkness, the light glinting on its pale skin. “Walk or fly?” he said.
“Walk along here. I came this way.” The kethel sounded just like a groundling, and Moon reminded himself not to treat it like one. It didn’t make se
nse for it to betray them, at least not until it got a chance to grab the weapon for itself. But just because it didn’t make sense didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.
As they followed the curve of the pod, the ruin opened up and the starlight illuminated the graceful shape of the flower-pods across the well, where they arced up above the bowl of shadow. Moon still couldn’t catch any glimpse of the Hians’ flying boat. It must be prudently keeping its lights out, hiding from them. Or from whatever else was here. He tasted the air deeply, but at the moment couldn’t scent anything but kethel. He said, “How did you find us?”
The kethel said, “I told old consort I saw you leave the Hian flying boat and fall on the flower thing. We have to go down now.”
Moon stopped abruptly as the kethel shifted. Its huge dark shape blotted out the light for an instant and flight reflex almost made Moon fling himself backward off the walkway. But its body flowed forward as it made the jump to the curve of a lower pod. The kethel climbed down the curve to the walkway. It paused there, then shifted back down to its groundling form.
Moon set his jaw and made the leap, landed on the curve and half-climbed half-skittered down the steep surface. The kethel faced toward the flower opening, trying to peer inside. It made a huffing noise that Moon realized was its version of tasting the air. Fell weren’t the best trackers; feeding on groundlings trapped in their settlements didn’t encourage the development of high level hunting skills. Moon could already tell that if there was anything alive in the darkness under the pod’s overhang, it wasn’t moving. He didn’t feel they were being watched, either. Just to test the kethel, he asked, “Anything there?”
It moved its head back and forth, then turned away from the pod to start down the descending walkway. “Is this the thing in the sky, like the Arbora said?”
So it had been listening to their conversation. “Maybe. Probably.”
It made a little sighing noise. “She won’t like this.”
Moon knew who it meant. As far as the kethel was concerned, there was only one she: Consolation, the Fellborn queen. “What does she want?” He didn’t think it would tell him the truth, but he had discovered that following a kethel through the dark in a strange place was easier if it was talking.
