by Martha Wells
“It’s not as disgusting as some things we’ve seen,” River pointed out. He was right about that.
The sturdier beings had formed three legs, others clung to each other atop them to form the torso, and two longer ones hung off it to make arms, the short tentacles at the ends of their bodies acting as fingers. A bulbous one at the top seemed to be the head. It spoke again, from a mouth that opened in the center of the torso, and this time Moon could hear individual words, though he still didn’t understand them.
Stone said, “That’s a sea-trade language.” He moved Moon out of the way by the shoulders and stepped into the room. He spoke a few words. “I told it—them—we’re travelers.”
The tentacle-hands, glowing faintly, the fingers connected by translucent wisps of skin, moved in an open-handed gesture. It spoke for a time. Stone said, “It’s asking us if we’ve seen others like them.”
“That’s an easy answer,” Balm said softly.
Stone spoke again. The other beings came closer to listen, several fluttering down from the upper portions of the room on filmy wings. Stone frowned, glancing back at Jade. “I told it we hadn’t seen any others. It asked me how long we’ve been traveling in the air.”
“That thing that came near the flying boat—” Moon began.
Jade finished, “Was it them?”
Stone waved a hand. “It was them. Now quiet, I’m trying to get them to tell me why they’re looking for these others.”
Moon looked around the room at all the little beings watching from their niches, or from the floor. If they could form a flying creature of that size, what else could they do? He wondered if they had only formed an upright shape because they were imitating the Raksura.
Balm had moved a little distance down the corridor. “If some of them are missing, that would explain why this place feels so empty.”
“And why there are so many supplies,” Chime added.
Moon turned back as Stone said, “A large group—I have no idea how many, I can’t understand that part—went out gleaning some time ago and didn’t return. They’ve been searching for them.”
Moon bit back a hiss. “Another disappearance in this area.” The sealings at the trading port had heard of one and they had randomly encountered another. How many had there been?
He could tell Jade was trying to keep the growl out of her voice as she said, “Have they seen signs of Fell?”
It didn’t seem a difficult question, but the problem was this strange colony of beings perceived the world in an entirely different way than Raksura, or groundlings, or sealings, or anybody else Moon had ever encountered. They didn’t seem to understand scent, at least not as Raksura did. They could describe things the group as a whole saw, but not in terms Stone could translate.
Moon muttered to Chime, “We’ve talked with plants that were better at communicating with other species.”
“Plants make sense,” Chime said. “Maybe they all got together because no one else understands them.”
After a time of fruitless back and forth, Jade twitched her spines in resignation and said, “Tell them we’ll watch for their missing companions in our travels, but we must go.”
Stone spoke again, and the beings answered. Stone sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “They just asked me if I thought their friends were dead.”
Moon looked away. Just because the beings were nearly impossible to communicate with didn’t mean they didn’t have the capacity to care for each other. And their way of living was so intimate, if they did care, they probably cared a great deal.
Jade winced. “Tell them yes.”
Stone said something in the trade language, and the shape collapsed, all the little beings flowing away back to the walls. Their self-generated light started to fade. Stone stepped out of the room. “Let’s get out of here and leave them alone.”
They found their way up through the structure and out to the open platform. The cool wind lifted Moon’s frills and took away the heavy scents of dried sea wrack and rotting vegetation. It was a relief to take to the air again, and leave the silence of the hive behind.
They returned and gathered in the common room of the flying boat, where Jade told Callumkal and Rorra and the others what had happened. Moon was standing back against the wall with Chime when he heard Vendoin ask Merit, “You can actually see the future, then?” She seemed completely astonished. “It isn’t superstition?”
Chime exchanged a look with Moon and gritted his teeth. Moon shrugged. Vendoin had been polite and had seemed to readily accept them, but he had long since decided he liked the others better. There were some indications that Vendoin found them amusingly primitive. The other Kish might have had their fears about traveling with Raksura, but at least they had been honest about it.
Merit kept his temper and said, “It’s not really seeing the future. The future isn’t there yet, so you can’t see it. We see things that might happen, as images, based on what we’re doing or about to do. It’s easier to scry when you’re looking for something that has happened, and trying to see what effect it has on what you should do next.”
Vendoin took this explanation in with blank surprise. Fortunately Callumkal got the room’s attention and said, “From now on, all crew on deck will go armed, and will take turns standing ready at the bow and stern weapons. Keeping them replenished and ready to fire simply isn’t enough.”
It was a wise precaution, though Moon felt they should have already been doing it.
As the group around Callumkal broke up, Rorra and Kalam came over to join them. Rorra was frowning in worry. Kalam said, “It would be so much easier if Avagram hadn’t died.”
Chime asked, “Who?”
“He was the arcanist for the expedition, but it turned out he was ill, and he died while we were on the way to the city for the first time,” Rorra explained.
“That’s unfortunate,” Chime said, and flicked a look at Moon.
Moon agreed. It was also convenient, if the Fell were involved, and didn’t want a Kishan sorcerer around. But after so many days on board, he couldn’t imagine any of these people as being under Fell influence. He knew that didn’t mean anything, but it was hard not to be lulled into a sense of false security, even for him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Finally one morning, as the sun rose, the dim shape in the distance slowly became the escarpment where the Kish said the ancient city lay. It was taller than the sea-mounts they had passed on the way here, and it stretched for some distance across the water, bigger than any other island they had seen. The gray cliffs had vertical ridges like a curtain, with greenery growing in the cracks. Above them the top of the escarpment was lost in mist.
Leaning on the railing, Chime said, “How did the Kishan even know there was anything up on top?”
“You can see the walls when the mist clears, I am told,” Delin said. He made an ironic gesture. “They said it is tantalizing.”
Deliberately? Moon wondered. He knew he could be overly suspicious—some people would say it was much worse than “overly”—but if this place was a trap . . . If it was a trap, it should be easier for groundlings to get into. The forerunner city under the island hadn’t been tantalizing; it had been a fortress turned prison, well hidden, difficult to get into, and impossible for its single inmate to escape. That made much more sense.
Moon asked Delin, “Are you still conflicted about what we should do?”
“My conflict has only increased, with every step we go toward this place.” Delin watched the distant shape of the formation with a grimace of distaste.
It was the next morning when they drew close enough to see the narrow rocky strip of land at the cliff’s foot, not a place a sailing boat would want to try to tie up, and no room for a flying boat of any kind to dock without the wind smashing it into the cliff wall. Several hundred paces from the escarpment lay a much smaller island, with a narrow beach around it, covered with ferns and broadleaf trees and flowering brush; it was suspiciously rounded, as if it mig
ht have been shaped by intention and not random nature. Scattered around it were several smaller islands, or maybe miniature sea-mounts: rounded rock formations standing up above the water, covered with greenery, each no more than a few hundred paces across.
As the flying boat curved around the island, Moon spotted a large sailing ship anchored off the beach. This was the Kishan vessel occupied by the other half of Callumkal’s expedition.
It was longer than their flying boat, with four masts with what looked like vertical expanding sails, not unlike those on a Golden Islander wind-ship, except there were many of them and the arrangement seemed far more complicated. The stern was wide and there were three levels of deck cabins stacked like stairs. “It’s called a sunsailer,” Kalam explained. “It’s made of metal, but uses the moss like this ship does, to generate power for the motivator.”
“A metal ship,” Jade said in Raksuran. She looked at Merit, one spine lifted inquiringly.
Merit stared at the sunsailer for a long moment, then said reluctantly, “No, it’s not the metal ship from the vision.”
“Really?” Root said, “because—”
“No.” Merit was certain.
Moon leaned on the railing. This sea was far too warm to be the one the mentors had described in the vision, and metal ships weren’t uncommon. He wasn’t sure if they should be relieved by that or not.
Two much smaller boats were anchored closer in, but they only had one mast each and looked as if they were meant for short trips away from the larger boat, and not long voyages. There was another flying boat too, Moon realized. It was a small one, not much larger than the one-masted ships, anchored on the island and drawn down by cables until it was at the level of the ferny treetops. It was constructed of green moss, like their boat, and he had mistaken it for a particularly large tree canopy.
At least there was no sign of Fell attack. Groundlings stood on the deck of the sunsailer, watching their approach.
“I’m ready to get this over with,” Jade said. “Where’s Stone?”
Stone stood up from behind the rain cistern at the base of the ridge and stretched. Why he had been sleeping back there, Moon had no idea, but Stone liked sleeping in odd and what would appear to be uncomfortable places. “You want to go up there now?” he asked. “Or wait for the mist to burn off?”
“Are we going to be able to see to land?” Balm frowned up at the top of the escarpment.
“We don’t even know if we want to land yet,” Chime pointed out.
Moon agreed. Jade flicked her spines impatiently, but seemed to be listening. She said, “I just want to stop wondering about this stupid place.” She looked at Moon. “Well?”
He shrugged one shoulder. He thought they should give the wind a chance to die down, and talk to the Kish here first. “I’d wait.”
She hissed out an annoyed breath.
Callumkal came out of the hatch near the end of the ridge, shielding his eyes to look toward the escarpment. “Not much to see at the moment. It should be visible by later this morning.”
Jade told him, “We’re talking of going up to take a look now.” It was hard to tell whether she was hoping he would try to talk her into it or out of it. Moon knew that unless it was one or the other, Jade wouldn’t have said anything.
Callumkal said, “Ah, I would prefer you wait, until I speak with the members of the expedition here.”
Jade’s spines lifted in a way that combined slightly offended surprise with inquiry. “Why is that?”
Callumkal appeared to understand her perfectly without being able to read her spines. “My colleagues are . . . not expecting you. The decision to ask for your assistance was something I didn’t make until after I had spoken to Delin, and there was no way to send a message.”
Chime muttered in Raksuran, “Oh, good.”
Delin was frowning now too. He said, “That I understood, but I also thought that it was your decision to make. You are not the one in command of this venture?”
Callumkal said, “It isn’t a question of being in command of it—”
Stone folded his arms, sighed, and wearily shook his head at the sky. Moon knew how he felt. He leaned on the railing and rubbed his face. This can’t go wrong now. Not now that we’ve come all this way. Chime nudged his shoulder sympathetically.
Callumkal was still talking. “—we are a collective of scholars. I need to inform the others of my decision to ask for your help first.” He looked around at them all and said with a little exasperation, “I assure you, there will be no difficulty. They will understand why your help is necessary. Haven’t I proved myself to you yet? I feel we are working together very well.”
“We are working with you very well, so far,” Jade said pointedly. “It’s your companions I’m worried about.”
“I promise you, there is no need for concern.” Callumkal seemed sincere. And he probably is, Moon thought sourly. Altogether, Callumkal was a fairly reasonable person. Fairly reasonable people often expected everyone they knew to be fairly reasonable too, and were shocked when this proved not to be the case.
The flying boat was circling in toward the island, and the crew came out on deck to start breaking out the cables to prepare to anchor it. There were some makeshift structures just above the beach and opposite the sunsailer’s anchorage. These had clearly been constructed recently by the Kishan, and were mostly elaborate tent structures made of blue and white cloth, supplemented by the fern-topped saplings and branches from the island. Groundlings, mostly dark-skinned, tall Janderan like Callumkal and Kalam, and a few shorter, wider Janderi, stood on the beach, waving at the flying boat.
“They look happy,” Chime said hopefully.
Moon grimaced. “I hope they’re happy after they see us.”
It took some time to lower the flying boat down toward the upper part of the beach, above the tide line. The crew dropped several anchor disks that didn’t seem heavy at all, until one of the groundlings on the beach ran forward to twist something in the top of each one. Then they suddenly sank into the sand like heavy metal weights. The crew used them to winch the boat down until it was only about thirty paces above the sand, then opened a section of the deck and dropped a boarding ladder.
While this was going on, Jade had sent Balm to warn the rest of the warriors and the Arbora, and tell them to get their packs together, just as a precaution. She told Moon and Chime, “I told them to stay in the cabin for now. If they hear me call out, they’re to go out the windows. I just want to be prepared if we have to leave in a hurry.”
Moon approved the precaution, but he hoped they wouldn’t need it.
Stone asked Delin, “Want to come with us?”
Delin shook his head. “If you have to leave, I will stay here, and try to bring Callumkal’s companions around.”
Rorra came out of the door, her boots clumping on the soft material of the deck. She frowned at the Raksura gathered at the far end of the deck, and then at Callumkal, Kalam, and Vendoin waiting with some of the crew near the ladder. She seemed undecided about which group to join, so Moon pushed away from the railing and went to her. He said, “We’re worried the Kishan here won’t like the fact that Callumkal brought Raksura.”
Her frown turned to an irritated grimace. “Surely not. It would be ridiculous to turn away help.”
It was somewhat reassuring that she hadn’t anticipated any problems. Someone was climbing up the ladder, and Callumkal went to give him a hand onto the deck. This groundling was a different race, similar in build to the tall Janderan, and dressed like them, but his skin was light blue and softer in texture, and his hair was white and straight. “Who’s that?” Moon asked Rorra.
“Kellimdar,” she said, “A head scholar, about the same rank as Callumkal.”
The groundlings spoke among themselves for a moment, probably greeting each other, then Kellimdar glanced around and saw Jade. Then he registered Stone, Delin, and Chime, then spotted Moon with Rorra. He turned back to Callumkal and his e
xpression was not reas suring. Unless he was like Rorra, and the thunderous frown was normal for his face.
Moon watched Callumkal obviously explaining the presence of the strangers. Kellimdar’s expression of deep concern, uncertainty, and mild horror meant Callumkal must be explaining exactly what the strangers were. The Raksura must have looked like odd figures to him, most of them like ordinary soft-skinned groundlings dressed in light clothing a little the worse for travel and saltwater, but with no boots, no weapons except for a couple of belt knives, none of the things groundlings usually had to carry. It would be unsettling, to know how deceptive that appearance was.
As Callumkal drew Kellimdar toward Jade and Delin, Moon went over to stand with Stone. Rorra trailed after him.
Callumkal introduced Jade, whose expression was neutral though her spines were set at a skeptical angle. Kellimdar acknowledged the introduction with a bowing motion, then turned to Callumkal and said in Kedaic, “I’ll have to speak to the others. You were meant to return with more supplies, and more scholars if you could persuade any to come. That you have returned with—I feel this is ill-advised, and—”
Jade interrupted in Altanic, “I’ve told Callumkal, we’ll attempt to reach the top of the escarpment as soon as the mist burns away.”
Kellimdar hesitated, obviously caught between suspicion and pure greed at the chance to find a way into the city. “You can do this?”
Jade tilted her head. “We won’t know until we try.”
Callumkal said, “They had no trouble investigating the top of a sea-mount. And I assure you, we can use their assistance if any predators appear. And we found another indication of possible Fell presence on the way here—”
Kellimdar wasn’t impressed. “We haven’t had any trouble—”
“Nevertheless, you must speak of it and prepare,” Vendoin interrupted. “I wish to show the Raksura the glyphs and carved images in the structure along the foot of the escarpment. May one of the small boats be prepared?” She turned to Jade. “It isn’t a dangerous undertaking, only tricky, with the currents. The morning is the best time to attempt it.”
