Stories of the Raksura: The Dead City & The Dark Earth Below

by Martha Wells

  The figure signed back, and Shiri looked surprised. “He says to bring the ransom halfway down, and he’ll release the ship.”

  “That is … quite reasonable,” Jai said, startled herself. She had expected a much longer negotiation.

  “Too reasonable?” Latal whispered to Jai.

  It was certainly an opinion shared by their pessimist Kiev, glaring suspiciously from the doorway of the steering cabin. “It’s a trap,” he hissed.

  “How?” Flaren asked.

  Kiev withdrew from the doorway.

  Jai studied the cauldron, the sealing, the glittering but uninformative surface of the sea. The shelf of rock a step or so below the surface was visibly bare and innocent of any trap. The sealings seemed to want the ransom, as a substitute for the trapped ship they could not approach for fear of being shot. And she could not see how this could turn into a trap for a wind-ship. “I think we will have to do it anyway.”

  “I’ll take the ransom down,” Flaren said immediately, giving Jai a look she could only interpret as mutinous.

  “We will do it together,” Jai told him firmly, and sent Latal for the ransom box.

  “Be careful,” Shiri said, twitching with nerves as he watched Flaren and Jai put their climbing harnesses on.

  Latal put the ransom box into the basket, securing the catch on the lid so it wouldn’t fly open on the way down. Then she fetched two long fighting clubs from the steering cabin, used only when they docked at the rowdier ports. “Take these, just in case.”

  Jai fixed her club to her belt, made sure Flaren had done the same, then they secured their harnesses. Jai led the way though she had to elbow Flaren hard in the ribs to do so, stepping through the break in the railing and letting the ropes take her weight. Latal manned the ilene-powered winch, lowering Jai and Flaren down toward the water.

  Jai watched the surface come closer. Over to her left, the dark stretch that marked the entrance to the underwater cave grew darker and colder the closer they approached it.

  When they were about thirty paces above the surface, she called up to Latal, “Far enough!”

  They jolted to a halt, and waited.

  Time seemed to crawl. The sun was warm even on Jai’s thick skin; she worried that Flaren would burn bright gold by the time this was over. The sealing waiting below them stood like a statue. She saw the crew of the ship watching, too far away to make out any detail or expression. “What are they waiting for?” Flaren said, keeping his voice low.

  “Perhaps for us to give up and drop the ransom,” Jai replied. She had no intention of doing so.

  A loud clang made Jai jump, but it was only the metal trap around the Issilan ship releasing. Finally, she thought in relief. The mesh sides fell back into the water with a huge splash, creating a small wave that a few moments later rippled the water below her dangling feet. The crewmen climbed with frantic speed into the rigging, and the sails dropped and billowed.

  They waited until the ship began to slowly move, its sails catching the wind, its progress helped along by the emergency oars that shot out of the portals below the railings. When it was well underway, Jai turned to the basket, pulling it toward her to get the ransom box. And then everything went to the cold-hells in a hamper.

  Flaren yelped in pure alarm, his voice higher than she had ever heard it before. She whipped around, startled, just in time to see a giant brown object shoot up out of the deep water. It spread gracefully in the air, revealing itself to be a giant net. Then it struck the side of the Escarpment. The wind-ship jerked downward and dropped at the sudden weight, and Jai landed in the water with a tremendous splash.

  Struggling to her feet in the thigh deep water, gasping a curse that was incoherent even to herself, Jai dragged the club off her belt.

  Flaren staggered to his feet and struck the sealing as it lunged for him, but the club glanced off its thick skull. It grabbed him, sending him staggering back. Jai swung at it, aiming for the spine in the middle of its back rather than the head. The blow landed with a resounding crack, and the sealing jolted forward and knocked Flaren down into the water. Jai struggled to reach Flaren, and more sealings popped up from below the surface.

  She laid about with the club, striking everything that reached for her, having some satisfaction in that these greedy creatures clearly did not expect her to be as strong as she was. Her harness tugged at her, pulling her across the stony shelf; she had no time to look up but feared it was the Escarpment being dragged down by the net. Whacking a sealing across the face, she caught a glimpse of cables stretching up from the water, drawn tight with the strain as the Escarpment fought to escape.

  The last sealing fell before Jai and she sloshed forward to Flaren. He was down, splashing frantically as he wrestled a sealing determined to drown him. Jai grabbed the sealing by the fins on its shoulder blades, wrenched it back and away. Flaren flailed free and Jai had a chance to look up.

  The Escarpment was heeled over, the net caught on the folded sail and the steering cabin drawn tight, dragging the ship to its doom. But Shiri and Latal, wearing climbing harnesses, cut at the cables with a big cross saw meant for severing fouled anchor lines. We’re not dead yet, Jai thought, and shouted at Flaren, “Get up there and help them!”

  Flaren shoved to his feet, and Jai reached for her harness, fumbling for Kiev’s emergency trigger device which she swore by all that was holy she would never make fun of again. The trigger would activate the winch, drawing them up, and Kiev had been very proud of it even though they had never needed it before.

  Both their lines dragged in the water, slack and limp as the Escarpment was forced further down, and she hoped the thing would still work. Then something struck her from behind, slamming her face-first down into the water. Sealing teeth crunched into her shoulder and ground against her leather harness strap. Jai shoved against the stone and managed to get her legs under her to push upward. The creature hung on, claws scraped at her skull, defeated for a moment by her harder bones. Then it went limp and she flung it off.

  She turned to see Flaren stood bent over the creature’s limp body, still holding his club. More sealings shot up from below the surface and charged toward them. Jai found the trigger-thing and told Flaren, “Go, hit your thing!”

  It wasn’t very coherent, but she knew he understood her. She knew because he held up the frayed end of his line, slashed apart by one of the sealing’s claws. Jai cursed, grabbed his harness and said, “Hold on!”

  He wrapped his arms around her and grabbed onto the back straps of her harness. Jai hit the trigger, and with relief, saw her line jerk and start to spool up toward the ship. It went tight and she felt her feet leave the stone, then the water. Flaren slid down to her waist but held on. And she made the mistake of thinking, We’re going to make it!

  Flaren gasped, and they jerked to a halt. His voice grating, he said, “They’ve got me.” She looked down to see two sealings hanging off his legs. She heard the trigger mechanism whirring as it strained to lift the extra weight.

  “Damn these persistent bastards,” Jai said, racking her brain for a solution. She had lost her club, not that she could reach the sealings with it anyway.

  “I’ll let go,” Flaren said. He didn’t sound as if it was the fondest wish of his heart, but she felt his hands loosen on the straps.

  Jai tightened her hold on his harness. “If you let go, I will come down there and beat you like a drum.”

  He glared up at her. “There’s nothing else we can do!”

  Jai was damn tired of being the only optimist on this crew. “Shut up and let me think!” She looked up at the ship, which was alarmingly close to them, only about twenty paces above her head. Latal and Shiri had managed to saw through one of the cables attached to the net and were at work on a second but three others still held. The deck angled toward her and she saw the winch, the ilene sparking in the grip of its case—And remembered what happened when ilene touched water. “Latal,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “
Throw the lamps in the water! The ilene!”

  Latal almost dropped her end of the saw, looked down, her face a desperate mask of terror and resolve. Jai knew she must look much the same.

  Latal shoved away from the railing, shouting to Kiev. Leaving Shiri to saw at the cable as best he could, she scrambled up the deck and into the steering cabin.

  The sealings were trying to climb Flaren’s body like he was a ladder, even as he kicked and struck at them. The trigger-thing sung in Jai’s ear, straining against the weight, and couldn’t last much longer. Then the whole case of their spare ilene blocks tumbled past Jai’s head and hit the water’s surface.

  The water crackled, hissed, steam rushed up. The sealings screamed, high piercing cries. A moment later Flaren cried out and then Jai added to the chorus. It was like invisible fire had rushed up from the water and raced over her skin. She kicked desperately at the only sealing in reach and it let go, falling away. Its fall jolted the next; it lost its grip on Flaren and dropped. Jai and Flaren jerked into motion as the winch hauled them up toward the ship.

  They reached the railing and Jai seized it with her one free arm as if she never intended to let go. Her hands were numb and her skin sparked with pain, the fading effect of the ilene, and the railing seemed as far they could get. Then Latal leaned over to grab Flaren’s harness, planted a small foot on the railing for leverage, and flung her weight back, pulling them both on board.

  Jai collapsed on the tilted deck, highly aware they were still a hair’s breadth from unpleasant death. She shoved herself up and gripped the railing, looking down.

  The sealings had vanished out of range of the sparking ilene but the remaining cables attached to the net were still tight with the strain of holding the wind-ship. The water below steamed, but she could see the effect dissipating as the ilene expended its energy. “Flaren, get another saw,” she croaked as he stumbled to his feet.

  “Wait!” Kiev bolted past her, pausing to slam the door to the hatch that Latal had left open. “I have an idea! Everyone hold on!”

  Latal grabbed the railing next to Jai and Flaren, and Shiri wrapped himself around the clamps at the base of the mast. Kiev darted into the steering cabin and shut the door. A moment later, the ship’s deck tilted further, down toward the water.

  “I see,” Jai muttered to herself. Without anyone to man the device below, the cables went slack. The way the island heart kept the wind-ship suspended in the air didn’t give them many options for maneuvering down toward the ground, but Kiev could roll the ship on its axis.

  The weight of the net began to work in their favor as the ship tilted, and it gradually pulled the mass of lines free from the mast to dangle down toward the water. As Jai and the others clung to the railing, Shiri climbed the mast like a treeling and tugged at the edge of the net, finally managing to drag it free. It fell from the ship, taking their cross-saw, a lamp, and a water bucket with it. “That’s it!” Jai shouted to Kiev. “Go, go!”

  It was a vague command but Kiev interpreted it correctly. The Escarpment swung upright, then turned and moved with the wind and away from the sealings’ trap.

  The ransom box had been drawn up with them, still in the basket, unnoticed as they fought for their lives. Wordless, Jai retrieved it and set it on the deck. The metal was no longer vibrating; whatever spell had protected it had ended once the ransom had been “delivered.” She used the prybar Flaren silently handed her to batter the lock open.

  They all gathered around to look. Inside were three large water-polished rocks, such as the ships of Issila used for ballast.

  “We were the ransom,” Flaren said quietly. “The sealings couldn’t get to the crew of the trapped sailing ship because they were too heavily armed. They offered to release the ship if they were given a substitute for their prize. So the Issilans offered to send them another ship to take its place.”

  Kiev took a harsh breath. “They would have been disappointed, when they sat down to eat. Only five of us aboard, for a ship with at least forty crew and passengers.”

  Latal hugged herself. “They wouldn’t know that. They couldn’t see our deck.”

  There was nothing to say, so for once, no one said anything. Jai picked up the box and pitched it over the side.

  It took them some while to recover their nerves, but by the time the ship had been restored to order, Shiri had cried a bit on Kiev’s shoulder, and they had all eaten some salted fish for dinner, everyone felt much better. Though Jai refused to consider a suggestion to catch up with the freed Issilan vessel in order to dump their garbage on it. She suspected the captive ship had known nothing of the arrangement the pirates had made with Canon Hain. And she didn’t think the Escarpment could catch the faster craft, anyway.

  The sun was setting when Jai found Flaren leaning on the railing. She went to stand beside him. They were passing over a large collection of miniscule rock islands, each capped with a miniature jungle of greenery, and the sun was deepening the sky’s blue to purple. Flaren seemed lost in thought, and Jai said, “I am sorry I spoke harshly to you.”

  Flaren shrugged it away. “You were right to.”

  “No. If I had been persuasive rather than strident, you might have been more inclined to listen.”

  “Maybe not.” He smiled with somewhat bitter amusement. “Maybe I needed the slap in the face.”

  Jai differed. “No one needs to be slapped that hard.”

  After a moment, Flaren said, “My father does.”

  It surprised a laugh out of her. Flaren smiled. She clapped him on the shoulder, and their little wind-ship sailed on.

  THE DARK EARTH BELOW

  This novella takes place a turn and a half after the events of The Siren Depths.

  Jade was having her first clutch at the end of the second rain season, and Moon was beginning to have doubts about his ability to survive the process.

  She wouldn’t be the first Raksura to clutch in the mountain-tree colony. Three Arbora, Rill, Dream, and Plum, had already clutched, producing eight new warriors and five new Arbora. Moon had been present for each clutching, along with half the court, and had gotten to hold the new babies.

  It shocked him that they were small enough to fit into his cupped hands, blinking up at him with half-closed eyes, their scales soft and vulnerable. He had never seen Raksura who were younger than the squirming, climbing toddler phase. At that age they could even shift, though they seemed to do it at random and had little control over it. When he had imagined new babies, he hadn’t realized they would be so tiny and helpless. Moon had lived in enough close quarters with groundlings to have seen births before, but somehow he hadn’t expected this. It was terrifying.

  “They’re so small,” he told Jade, sitting near the hearth in her bower. “I didn’t expect that.”

  “If they were any bigger, there is no power in the Three Worlds that could make me do this insane thing,” Jade snarled, and pushed another cushion under her back.

  Jade’s belly had been getting gradually larger for a while, but it was only in the past change of the month that it had gotten so big that she had had to stop shifting to her winged form and stay in the queens’ level. This hadn’t done much for Jade’s temper, or Moon’s nerves. Though it wasn’t as though they had to go through this alone. There were Arbora here constantly, mentors as well as a few dozen teachers and soldiers who took turns waiting outside the bower, braced at any moment to get Jade anything she wanted.

  “I just think it’s a bad idea to be born all soft like that,” Moon said. He had pointed out this obvious fact at Rill’s clutching, even though he knew it probably made him sound like an idiot. It was almost as bad as being born into the Raksura’s more vulnerable groundling form. That form used less energy and needed less food and water, and meant that part of your body was dormant, which was why it was hard to sleep deeply in a winged or Arbora form. Queens didn’t have a groundling form, but their more powerful bodies didn’t need one.

  Jade stared at him,
scaled brows lowered. “And what exactly would you like me to do about that?”

  “But how can we take care of them?” Moon knew it wasn’t a rational question, but it was the one haunting him.

  “There are fifty Arbora out there ready to fight a Fell ruler in a pit for the right to take care of them,” Jade said, and threw a cushion at him. “We’ll be lucky if we see them for the first month.”

  At that opportune moment, Stone walked into the bower. Jade growled at him. “Nothing’s changed, go away.”

  Knowing what Stone was here for, Moon tensed. As the court’s line-grandfather, Stone was so old the color of his groundling skin and hair had faded to gray, but his senses were far more acute than a normal Raksura, and it was easier for him to hear the babies.

  Stone sat down beside Jade. “You want me to check?” he asked her. He had taken an interest in all the court’s births so far, but Jade was one of his direct descendants, and this was the first royal birth the court had had since moving back to the Reaches. Though Stone was also cranky and took irascible to a new level, Moon was glad to have him here. He had been the one to find Moon and bring him to the court, and he was the closest thing to a male parent Moon had ever had.

  Jade hissed, annoyed. “Fine, go ahead.”

  Stone put a hand on her swollen belly, leaned down, and cocked his head, listening. Impatient, Jade demanded, “Well?”

  Stone nodded. “Still five.”

  Moon let out his breath in relief. Five heartbeats, Stone meant. By this point, he thought Jade would have felt it if something drastic had changed, but it was still reassuring to know that all was well.

  Jade said to Stone, “I’m not doing this again, so there better be five.”

  “Sure,” Stone answered her absently. No one seemed particularly worried about Jade’s occasional declarations that she was never having another clutch, so Moon wasn’t concerned by it. At the moment, all he cared about was this clutch. He wasn’t certain he could stand having another one, either. It had taken nearly a turn to conceive this one, something that Moon had thought was his fault and Jade thought was hers, until they had finally gotten the advice that sometimes it just took a while and they should stop worrying about it. Annoyingly, this advice had proven to be right.