by Martha Wells
Janeas stepped close, hissing into his face. “You’re their only consort—”
Moon didn’t have to fake the bitter amusement. “The reigning queen ordered me to leave days ago. They know what Kathras said. They know you came to Indigo Cloud because of me. They only let me stay this long to help fight you.”
Janeas stared into his eyes, and must have read the truth there. He snarled, his hand closing around Moon’s throat, cutting off his air. Moon frantically pried at his hand, tried to kick, then his vision went dark.
The terrible pressure stopped. He hit the floor, gasping in a breath with the jolt of impact. His throat and lungs ached, and for a moment he couldn’t do anything but huddle on the floor and breathe. He managed to look up and saw Janeas coming out of the inner chamber, half-carrying the older Fell progenitor.
She was a little bigger than the ruler, but her scales looked soft, and her armored crest was much smaller, as if she hadn’t been meant to fight. She leaned heavily on Janeas’ shoulder, her half-furled wings drooping.
Janeas led her to the window where Venras still waited. Venras spoke again, jerking his chin at Moon. Janeas just shook his head, stepping up to the window, pulling the progenitor after him.
They’re leaving, Moon thought in dizzy relief. And Janeas didn’t want to kill Moon because he knew if he did, Ranea would follow him in a fury. That part’s not so good. If the queen-progenitor returned in time, she could take Moon and still salvage her plan for a crossbreed flight. Janeas was leaving Moon behind as the distraction he needed to escape.
Venras twitched around to take the old progenitor’s other arm, and the three of them dropped out of the window.
Moon staggered to his feet. Demus had crept forward to watch Janeas leave. It saw Moon looking at it and growled, flexing its claws. That thing has to go now.
It was smaller than a real dakti, and much scrawnier than a real Arbora, though its teeth and claws looked sharp. Moon looked around for a weapon, and spotted an unlikely one.
Watching Demus, he went to the platform where the dead ruler lay. He rolled the body over, dumping it out of the brocade coat it wore. Shaking out the heavy cloth, he paced toward Demus.
It crept backward, its spines bristling. It rasped in Raksuran, “She’ll claw the skin from your body if you touch me.”
“She’s going to do that anyway.” Moon didn’t hesitate, still stalking the creature, angling to one side, forcing it to move back toward the pool of water.
“Don’t kill me.” The tone changed from threat to plea and Demus crouched, trying to look helpless. “Please.”
“Then take the shifting geas off me and the Arbora,” Moon said, still moving forward, “and run away.” It seemed a rational choice to him, but then this thing was a Fell.
Demus crouched low, whining, then suddenly leapt for Moon’s head. Moon lunged toward it, swinging the heavy coat up. It hit the fabric and then him, bowling him over backward. Moon wrapped his arms and legs around it and rolled, trapping it in the heavy brocade, pinning it with his weight. Demus clawed with frantic strength, its jaws clamping onto his shoulder through the fabric, but its claws caught in the heavy material, just long enough for Moon to roll them both toward the pool.
They fell into the cold water and Moon caught a breath before he went under, using his weight to shove the creature to the bottom. Desperate, Demus wrenched an arm free and clawed at his side, tearing through his shirt and the skin beneath. Moon pinned its hand with his knee and held on grimly, staying under until his lungs were about to burst. Hoping the damn thing would be too distracted to hold the geas on him, he tried to shift.
It felt like it had when he had resisted Pearl. The pressure in his chest and behind his eyes was increased a hundredfold by the pressure to breathe, the growing pain in his lungs. Then suddenly something gave way, and wings and spines formed on his back; scales spread over his skin.
Moon lifted up, getting a much-needed breath. Demus was limp in his hands. Moon pulled the coat aside and snapped Demus’ neck just to make certain.
The relief of being able to shift was overwhelming; the claw scratches, bruises, everything faded into minor irritations. He shook the water off and jumped for the passage above the pool, reaching it in one long bound.
As he raced along the open passage, flames spread across the bottom floor of the hive, and thick smoke streamed upward, obscuring much of the center well. He heard the buzzing flight of Dwei below him somewhere, and the muffled roar of a kethel. The Dwei must have overwhelmed the single remaining kethel and escaped their prison.
Several dakti still guarded the doorway to the Arbora’s chamber. When Moon landed among them and ripped the first two open, the others scattered, diving off the ledge into the smoky well. Moon crouched to rip open the door membrane, calling down, “Heart? Can you all shift?”
“Yes!” He saw Heart looking up at him, bright blue in her Arbora form. “Moon, did the others start the fire?”
“Yes! Come on out; we’re leaving,” he told her, looking warily out at the central well. Clouds of smoke obscured the view, giving him only glimpses of dakti flying wildly around.
Merit scrambled out of the shaft, followed rapidly by Needle and Gift. Crouching next to Moon, his spines bristling nervously, Merit demanded, “How do we get out?”
Good question. Moon couldn’t risk trying to fly the Arbora out one at a time, and the openings in the wall made a climb up or down impossible. He would have to lead them out the way he had come in, whether it was on fire or not. Then he made out a large dark shape, banking through the smoke, heading back toward the progenitor’s chamber. Uh oh. Ranea was returning and Moon was out of time. “Run, that way!” The startled Arbora stood and Moon gave Merit a push to get him started. “Now! Take the first turn down!”
Dream was just climbing out of the shaft with Snap and Heart behind her. Moon dragged them out and tossed them after the others. He ran after them, keeping his eyes on that dark shape.
Merit reached the open passage in the wall first, the turn into the long spiral ramp that led down through the hive, and looked back to Moon for instructions. Moon waved at him to keep going.
Then he felt a rush of air behind him. Moon somersaulted forward and landed in a crouch. Ranea was barely ten paces away, cupping her wings, coming in to land on the ledge. He shot forward, turning to rake her across the chest with his disemboweling claws. She tumbled backward off the ledge. Moon bounced off the ceiling and dove for the passage down.
It was the long spiral he remembered, leading down toward the bottom of the hive, and he could hear the Arbora about three turns ahead of him. Leaping from wall to wall, Moon felt that familiar constriction in his chest, that pressure, and thought, It’s her, she’s trying to make me shift. Ranea was part queen, and she had the Raksuran queen’s power, just not as strongly as the two mentor-dakti. If she succeeded, he was done for. But he needed her to stay focused on him, and not the Arbora.
He caught up with them at the fifth turn and dropped to the floor to run beside them.
“What is that thing?” Heart asked breathlessly. “What kind of Fell is—”
“It’s another crossbreed, part progenitor, part queen.”
Heart threw him a horrified look. Running just ahead of her, Merit gasped, “I didn’t think this could get worse.”
Oh, it can get much worse, Moon thought. “Just run.”
Around the next turn, a passage in the outer wall glowed with warm daylight. Needle and Dream reached it first and ducked into it; the other Arbora followed.
Moon thought, Damn it, that’s not going to work. They were still too high. There wouldn’t be a way down for the Arbora. Moon darted after them.
The passage opened out onto a broad ledge in the side of the hive that looked out over the pillars and crumbled walls of the main entrance to the ruined city. The curve of the river lay just beyond it, the canyon heavy now with the shadows of late afternoon. “Wrong way, go back!”
; “No, no, look!” Needle grabbed his arm, bouncing with excitement. “It’s Jade!”
“What?” Moon turned. Jade and several Aeriat were just flying over the top of the hive. Their colors were oddly mottled and it took Moon a moment to realize they were covered with metal-mud.
Dream and Snap called out in chorus, a sustained high-pitched note. Jade twisted in mid-air, turning to lead the way in a swooping dive directly toward them. The other Aeriat peeled off to circle, and she landed with a thump on the ledge. Her scales were blotchy with metal-mud. She looked exhausted, furious, and beautiful. “Moon—”
Moon hoped she didn’t want a detailed explanation, because there wasn’t time for one. “Quick, she’s coming! Get the Arbora out of here.”
Jade turned to the warriors. “Do it! Take them to our hiding place!”
Floret and Coil swept forward, snatching up Needle and Gift on the wing. Vine, Song, Sand, and Chime landed to get the others. Chime grabbed Heart and asked Moon, “Aren’t you coming?” He sounded breathless with fear and excitement.
“Not yet.” Moon shook his head. “Go, get her out of here.”
“I’ll explain on the way,” Heart told Chime, wrapping her arms around his neck.
As Chime dove off the ledge, Jade said, “Who’s coming?”
He said, “It’s a progenitor, a crossbreed like the mentor-dakti. She’s part queen. We have to kill her.”
Jade hissed, spines flaring. “Did she—”
Moon heard the rush of air from behind him and dropped into a crouch. Ranea slammed through the passage, saw Jade, and leapt straight for her. Jade fell backwards, curling her body up, just as Ranea crashed into her. They tumbled across the ledge in furious struggle. Moon jumped for Ranea’s back, got buffeted back by a wing and thrown against the ledge. He rolled upright just as Jade and Ranea broke apart.
Terrified, he looked at Jade, but she was crouched, hissing through barred fangs, battered but not bleeding. Ranea had rips across both shoulders, her dark scales dotted lightly with blood. She grinned at Jade, her jaw distended to show a startling array of teeth. “Come now, we’re kin. We should be friends.”
Jade grinned back. “I’m going to rip your womb out and eat it.” Then she launched herself at Ranea’s throat.
They tumbled off the ledge in a furious, snarling tangle of wings and tails. Moon dove after them, darting in to rake Ranea’s wings. Ranea obviously couldn’t force Jade to shift, but Pearl had said Raksuran queens couldn’t do that to each other. Moon had been able to resist her so far, but he was willing to bet the warriors couldn’t.
Locked in battle, Jade and Ranea fell far enough to be in danger of crashing into the walls of the ruin. Moon yelled, “Jade, break off!”
Jade tore herself free and Ranea wheeled away, knocking off the top of a pillar before catching the air and banking up. Moon stayed near Jade, circling around while she caught the air again and swooped back up. Ranea was higher in the air, but that wasn’t much of an advantage; she could only close with one of them at a time, and the other could attack her from behind.
“Try to get her up to the top of the hive,” Jade said, as she spiraled up toward him. “The others are—”
Moon lost the rest as Ranea rushed down at them again, heading for Jade.
Moon slipped sideways toward Ranea, taking a swipe at her face. She turned on him with a shriek, and he kicked at her stomach, trying to hook his claws under her scales. She clawed at his legs, nearly getting a grip on him, then jerked back when Jade struck at her from below. Moon twisted away, taking a painful rake across his wing. That ought to do it, he thought, knowing that if she hadn’t been angry enough to follow him before, she was now. He broke off, heading up toward the hive, and Ranea shot after him.
The gold-brown surface of the hive raced beneath him as he streaked upward. He could feel Ranea behind him, too close, and risked a look back. She was nearly on him, but Jade was nearly on her, raking at her from behind.
Moon shot up over the curve of the hive. The surface was hundreds of paces wide, sloping dramatically toward the big opening in the center that led down into the well. Right, where are the others?
Then he caught sight of a familiar flash of gold and indigo. Pearl and four warriors circled away from the top of the hive, the last one dropping another pottery jar through the opening to add to the fire and confusion below.
Pearl must have spotted Moon and seen what was chasing him. She swept into a tight turn, arrowing down toward him.
Moon shouted to Pearl, “She’s part queen. She can make the warriors shift!”
Pearl called out to the Aeriat, a high-pitched cry. Immediately they banked and turned away from the hive.
Ranea saw Pearl and screamed in fury, realizing she had been deliberately trapped. Pearl stooped on her, hard and fast, as Jade came at Ranea from below. Instead of heading toward either one, Ranea dipped to the side and slammed her whole bodyweight into Moon.
The impact stunned him. He fell onto the surface of the hive, then tumbled down the slope and over the edge of the opening.
For a heartbeat he was too dazed to react, then realized he was falling through smoky air right into another fight, between buzzing Dwei and a roaring kethel. He snapped his wings in and plunged past them, just missing one of the Dwei. Once safely below them, he extended his wings and caught the air to circle away. Looking up, still a little dazed, he thought, I’m not getting out that way.
Above him in the smoke-filled well, the Dwei attacked the kethel, darting in at it as it twisted in the air. Their wings moved so fast they were white blurs. Their buzzing was ear-piercing. Trapped in the hive’s well by the Dwei, the kethel couldn’t maneuver, couldn’t escape. It slammed into the hive wall, sending a whole section of ledge crashing down onto the burning floor below. Its tail knocked a Dwei out of the air, but there were too many.
Moon banked down toward the side of the hive, headed for the passage he and the Arbora had used to get out. But it wasn’t there. The whole section had collapsed, and he couldn’t spot the passage anymore. I’d just like something to be easy for once, he thought in exasperation, looking for a place to land.
The window into Ranea’s chamber was still intact. He twisted to avoid another angry Dwei, and landed on the window’s edge. The chamber was still occupied only by the dead, a haze of smoke hanging in the air. He bounded across to the shaft and looked down. He could still see daylight coming in from somewhere below. He slung himself over the side, holding on with one set of claws, ready to drop. Then he stopped.
He scented Raksura. He tasted the air, making certain. He thought sourly, Oh good, more crossbreeds.
Moon climbed down the wall, digging his claws into the rubbery material, following the scent. Openings in the shaft, some large Dwei-sized doorways and some just thin slats, let in light and air, but all were empty.
He was a good hundred paces down when he heard scrabbling, a desperate panting, as if something was trapped and trying to claw its way out. It was coming from one of the chambers with a slatted opening, and he swung down to look inside.
The occupants sprang back, hissing at him.
He was so sure of seeing a mentor-dakti, or a dozen mentor-dakti, that for an instant he didn’t realize what he was looking at. There were three of them, with scales, wings, and tails, like Raksuran fledglings, the biggest not more than waist-high. Two were black like Fell, but one was bright green, with a faint yellow, web-like tracery over the scales... Idiot, he thought. They were Raksuran fledglings. It was a baby queen and two consorts. The royal clutch from Sky Copper. Stone said he saw they had a queen, and Flower thought there were two consorts. “Are you from Sky Copper?”
“Maybe!” The little queen bristled her spines, glaring. The chamber was small, the doorway in the wall sealed with a heavy membrane. The queen and the larger consort had been trying to claw their way through it. “Who are you?”
“I’m Moon, from Indigo Cloud.” He dug his claws into two of the slat
s and threw his weight back. The slats ripped loose and he tumbled a good distance down the shaft before he caught himself and climbed back up. A repeat performance made a hole large enough for him to perch in. The three fledglings huddled together, watching him warily, and he asked, “Were there any others?”
“The others went away,” the queen said, still sounding furious. “There’s just us now.”
The consorts were miniature versions of himself, their spines bristling with terror. The little one’s wings looked far too small to support him. Moon asked, “Can you all fly?”
The queen snarled, “We’re not leaving Bitter!”
“I’m not leaving anybody.” He just wanted to make sure which one not to drop. “Come on, we need to go.”
Bitter, presumably the smaller consort, edged forward, tasting the air. Whatever he scented must have reassured him, because he suddenly jumped for Moon’s chest. Moon caught him and tucked him under his wing, telling him, “Hold on.” Bitter hooked his claws firmly into Moon’s scales.
The queen and the older consort looked at each other, apparently came to a decision, and leapt for Moon. He gathered them against his chest and they clung to him, digging their claws in. It wasn’t comfortable, but he could stand it.
He swung back out of the chamber and started to climb down, going as fast as he dared.
“Bad Arbora-thing wouldn’t let us shift,” the queen said resentfully, clinging to his collar flange.
“I know. It’s dead now,” Moon told her. “What are your names?”
She adjusted her hold on him, thought about it, and decided to admit, “I’m Frost. That’s Thorn, and Bitter.”
His face buried against Moon’s chest, Thorn said, “Is she dead?” Bitter, tucked up near Moon’s armpit, shivered. There was no mistaking who he meant.
“I don’t know,” Moon said, figuring in their situation honesty was better no matter how grim. “I hope so.”
Thorn took that in silently. Bitter whispered something inaudible. Apparently translating, Thorn said, “Where’s your queen?”
