The Books of the Raksura: The Complete Raksura Series

by Martha Wells

  Listening to the groundlings’ conversations upstairs had netted a little more information. Ardan was more powerful than Moon had thought, and everyone there had been afraid of him, hating him, or courting him, or a combination of all three. Moon would have thought a magister’s business was to make magic, but Ardan seemed intimately concerned with the working of the city and its trade concerns.

  After a time, he heard the others stop moving around. Various doors shut. He hadn’t noticed earlier how dead the tower was to sound; he could be the only one alive in it. He thought of the colony tree, how despite its size you could feel it move and breathe and rustle, sense the faint presence of all the smaller lives inside it. Stop it, he told himself, annoyed. He refused to be sick with longing for a place he had barely spent two nights in.

  Sometime later, out in the foyer, the heavy door to the stairwell opened, someone walked through, and the door was closed and locked again. Quiet footsteps moved away down the hall. That was the guard who patrolled the public rooms on this level. There had been no click of a key, so another guard in the stairwell had unlocked and locked the door for him. But Moon wasn’t planning to use the stairs.

  Moon listened to the guard make several slow circuits of the level. Finally the man’s steps returned to the stairwell door, there was a quiet knock, and the door opened and closed again. Presumably the guard wouldn’t return for a while. Moon shoved off the bed and reached the door. He eased it open silently, stepped into the corridor, and pulled it shut behind him. The corridor lights had been turned down until they gave off only a dim light and a faint trace of mist. Shifting in a blur of motion, he bounded down the corridor. He kept his claws carefully sheathed so they wouldn’t click against the tile and betray him.

  The first thing he did was rapidly search the rest of this level. He found two other corridors, both with closed doors. By the sound of breathing, only three rooms were occupied. He couldn’t tell which two held Negal and Orlis, but a low whispered conversation marked the one with Esom and Karsis. There were two other open sitting areas, and a larger room with a cold bathing pool, but no other doorways to the stairwell, and no windows.

  He whipped back through the door into the big common room. The vapor-lights here were still bright, lighting the empty room and making him feel exposed to the entire tower. Ignoring the sensation, he went to the hearth, stepped over the rim, hooked his claws into the mortar between the sooty stones, and wriggled up into the chimney.

  Climbing the dark shaft, he peered upward. His eyes adjusted quickly, but there wasn’t much to see. The chimney wasn’t straight and shunted sideways at intervals to work its way up through the tower. He passed openings for several other connected shafts, too narrow for even a slender Raksura to climb down. At least it was a sign that all the hearths in this side of the tower connected to this central shaft.

  When he was high enough to be above the big meeting room, he hit a junction with another large shaft.Hah, he thought, quietly satisfied at guessing right, and climbed headfirst down it.

  He reached the bottom, where it opened into the hearth near the far end of the large chamber. He hung his head down and peered cautiously out, every nerve alert.

  The vapor-lights had been turned so low they were nearly out, and the place seemed even more cavernous, the statue-pillars looming life-like in the shadows. He tasted the air and caught lingering scents of perfume, stale food, and wine. Nothing moved, and it was almost unnervingly silent.

  He slid out of the chimney and stepped down off the big empty hearth, lifting his spines a little to dislodge some of the soot. Ghosting across the marble floor, he bypassed the stairs to jump up to the railing of the gallery.

  The hall beyond the archway was smaller than the one down on the second level of the tower, with no alcoves. Ardan’s acquisitions hung on the walls or stood on plinths. It was all artwork, wall carvings, pieces of sculpture, the gems and metal glinting faintly in the dim light. Moon walked through rapidly, reached the end, then turned back. He forced himself to move slowly, to look at each display more closely. It has to be here. It wasn’t sitting by itself on a plinth, but it might be stuck in with one of the other objects.

  He stopped abruptly as the skin under his spines prickled with unease; he wasn’t alone in here anymore. He turned, slowly.

  Barely ten paces away a mist hung in the air, and something formed rapidly inside it.

  Moon snarled under his breath. He had forgotten Ardan’s magic. Groundling guards were probably posted in any area where the inhabitants of the tower might move around during the night. In the chambers that were supposed to be empty, the guards could be more deadly. The mottled green shape that emerged from the mist stood almost as tall as Moon. He could see the outline of long arms and clawed hands, but no head. That could be a problem, he thought, and crouched to spring.

  It snapped into solid form, a bulbous muscular body with barely a lump for the head. Its eyes were small, yellow, and mean. Then a huge mouth opened, more than half the width of the body, and displayed an impressive array of yellow fangs. It surged forward and Moon sprang to meet it.

  As it reached for him he grabbed its arm, swung up and slashed its face with his feet and free hand, then leapt away. Quicker than thought, it slapped him out of the air.

  Moon bounced off the stone floor, then caught a blow to the head that knocked him back into a plinth. The creature charged toward him again, its goal apparently to grab him and stuff him into its huge mouth. Scrambling back, he thought, I don’t have time for this, and bolted out through the archway to the gallery. Instead of going over the balustrade, he jumped straight up in the air. As the creature barreled out after him, he dropped and landed on its back. It roared, loud enough to deafen him, and reached back to claw at his head. Moon sunk all four sets of his own claws into the creature’s rubbery flesh and bit down on the back of its lumpy head.

  Still roaring, it staggered forward and tumbled over the rail. It hit the floor first and rolled, but Moon held on with grim determination. Even as it crushed him between its back and the floor, he kept his jaws clamped down. Its tough hide gave way abruptly and he got a mouth full of foul blood. The thing tasted terrible, like rot and mold. It bucked, thrashed, and finally went limp. Moon shoved it off him and staggered upright. He spat out blood, stumbled to the fountain, and scooped up a double handful of water to scrub the acrid stuff off his face. Then he looked up at the gallery.

  Three—no, four more misty shapes formed in the air. The creature’s death must have triggered the appearance of reinforcements. Damn things, how many does Ardan have? He could stay here and take them all on, until the groundling guards and Ardan showed up. It wouldn’t buy him any time to look for the seed. He turned back for the hearth and crossed the floor in long bounds.

  A groundling couldn’t have killed that creature. If Moon got down to the guest quarters again and shifted, he might be able to bluff this out. They wouldn’t know they were looking for a Raksura. He hoped.

  He reached the hearth, scrambled up into the chimney, and climbed rapidly back to the central shaft. At the junction he hesitated. He could keep going up until he found the outlet to the outside, if it was large enough to get through, if it wasn’t sealed by the barrier that protected the outside of the tower. No, he had to take the chance to stay and keep looking for the seed.

  He climbed down quickly and quietly until he heard a scrabbling noise, claws scratching against stone, somewhere above him. Moon continued to climb, and tasted the air as he went, but the stink from the creature’s hide still clung to his scales and he couldn’t scent anything. He glanced down and saw he didn’t have far to go. Faint light marked the opening into the guest-level hearth perhaps twenty paces below him.

  Then he heard a bang and a loud crack, and looked up to see a dark shape descending rapidly toward him. One of the creatures was in the shaft. Moon gasped a curse and dropped. He plunged down and caught himself just at the bottom of the chimney.

  As h
e stood in the hearth, he saw the creature stop abruptly, still some distance above him. The stupid thing is stuck, he thought incredulously. And it was cutting off any chance of retreat up through the shaft. Hissing in frustration, he ducked to climb down out of the hearth basin.

  At just that moment he heard voices and footsteps, about to turn through the door into the common room. By instinct Moon shifted. But when his claws vanished, he lost his footing on the edge of the hearth and tumbled to the floor.

  Esom and Karsis stepped into the doorway just in time to see Moon roll across the tile. They stopped, staring. Esom demanded, “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Moon sat up on one elbow and glanced warily back at the hearth. A little soot trickled down, but no creature appeared. It must be jammed tightly in the shaft.

  “Were you—” Karsis looked at the hearth, then at Moon, obviously taking in the soot stains on his clothes and hands. At least his face wasn’t covered with monster blood, though there had to be flecks of it all over him. He had been counting on a chance to thoroughly clean off his scales in his room before he shifted. She shook her head in disbelief at her own theory. “You couldn’t have been—”

  “What do you mean, nothing?” Esom persisted. “Why were you standing on the—”

  Moon pushed to his feet, half-ready to answer Esom’s question by hitting him in the head. Then far down the hall the stairwell door crashed open. He heard shouts and footsteps as the guards swarmed in. That’s that, Moon thought. He couldn’t retreat up the chimney, and there was no other way out of this level. He should have tried to go up and out when he had the chance. He said, quietly, “Get away from me.”

  “What?” Esom blinked in confusion but Karsis took his arm and tugged him back.

  Several guards burst into the room, their javelins and small crossbow weapons held ready. They all looked angry, and the anger had an even more dangerous tinge of fear. “Was it here? Did you see it?” one shouted. Others raced by in the hall toward the other guest quarters.

  “See what?” Esom said, sounding affronted. “We’ve been locked up here. Of course we didn’t see anything!”

  Then the guards hastily made way and Ardan walked into the room. Moon had expected him to be angry, but Ardan’s expression was grimly pleased. The realization was like a dash of icy water. He suspected all along, Moon thought, eyes narrowed. And now he knows.

  Watching Moon carefully, Ardan said, “So you’ve been exploring. I wonder why.”

  Karsis said quickly, “No, he was in his room, we went there to speak to him. We came out here to talk—”

  “Quiet.” Ardan didn’t spare her a glance.

  Moon bared his teeth in something that might possibly be interpreted as a smile. “You don’t look surprised.”

  “Let’s say I was hopeful.” Ardan’s smile was dry. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Another groundling came down the hall, light footsteps at a deliberate pace. The guards stirred uneasily.

  “It’s him,” Esom muttered and glanced toward the door in fearful anticipation. “That’s all we need.”

  Karsis said, low-voiced, to Moon, “Watch out, he’s dangerous. He’s not what he seems—”

  Moon stopped listening when the newcomer stepped into the doorway. He was younger than Moon, with a slim build, light bronze skin, and dark hair, sharp features. He wore a loose light shirt and dark brown pants of the local fishskin cloth, but his feet were bare.

  Despite it all, Moon had a moment of doubt. Then their eyes met and he knew for certain. Well, that does explain a lot, he thought, suddenly cold with fury. How Ardan had found the tree, how he had known about the seed. He hadn’t even needed a flying ship to get inside the colony tree’s high knothole entrance.

  The man turned to Ardan, fury twisting his handsome features. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Were you planning to play us off each other? Get rid of me?”

  Ardan turned to him in fond exasperation. “Of course not. I wasn’t certain what he was. I wanted to be sure before I told you.” Of course Ardan had suspected Moon all along; with a live Raksura in groundling form at hand to compare him to, he could hardly help but be suspicious. Add to that Moon’s knowledge of the mysterious ruin, his questions about the seed. Ardan looked at Moon. “This is Rift, my friend and guide.” He managed the Raksuran pronunciation without difficulty. “I assume your name is not Niran.”

  “It’s Moon, of the Indigo Cloud Court.” Karsis and Esom stared at him, Karsis in astonished realization and Esom in growing horror. “That’s the colony tree you stole the seed from.”

  Rift twitched, and hissed. “You’re lying. It was empty. It was a dead court.”

  “It’s not empty now,” Moon said. “You led him to the seed, you know what that means.”

  Ardan watched them with a narrow, speculative gaze. He said, “Rift, calm yourself. I thought you would be pleased, to have another member of your race here.”

  Moon snorted. Ardan obviously didn’t know as much about Raksura as he thought.

  Rift grimaced in disgust at Ardan. He shifted, his groundling body vanishing in a dark mist, resolving into a warrior with dark green scales. He flared out his spines, and snarled in Raksuran, “You’re lying. That colony tree was abandoned. I don’t know what you want here, but if you want to live, go away. Now.”

  Moon barred his teeth. He thinks he’s looking at another warrior. In groundling form, it was hard to tell young consorts from male warriors. Until it was too late. Moon said, “Come and get me.”

  Rift sprang toward him. Moon shifted, flared his spines out, and lunged forward. They grappled, tumbled across the room, slammed down onto a bench, bounced off a pillar supporting the chimney. Moon was bigger, stronger, and much more angry. He barely felt the smaller warrior’s claws.

  Around them, groundlings shouted and fled. Rift’s growls went up in pitch as he realized he was overmatched. Wrenching free, Rift tried to bolt. Moon caught him again and flung him toward the knot of guards in the opposite doorway. They scattered as the warrior slammed through them. Claws scraping the floor, Rift scrambled away down the corridor. Moon jumped over two fallen guards, bounced off the ceiling, and pelted after him. Moon was peripherally aware of running, shouting, confusion, but the only thing he could see was Rift.

  Rift slammed through an archway into another small sitting room just as Moon caught him. He grabbed Rift’s spines and yanked him around. Rift clawed for Moon’s eyes but Moon slammed him down to the floor. Kneeling on the warrior’s chest, he seized him by the throat. Then Rift croaked, “Don’t. Please.”

  Moon, just about to tighten his grip and rip Rift’s throat out, growled in pure frustration. He was breathing hard, his skin stinging from scratches on his hands, arms, and chest that had penetrated his scales. Rift’s eyes pleaded, and Moon couldn’t kill him. “Where’s the seed?”

  He gasped, “I don’t know. He took it away, out of the tower— Watch out!”

  Moon twisted in time to see a guard in the doorway, lifting his little crossbow. Moon snapped out his right wing in a sharp punch. He struck the man in the chest with the tip and flung him backward.

  Taking advantage of the moment of distraction, Rift said quickly, “I’ll show you the way out, through the bottom of the tower. The barrier stops at the ground.”

  Shouts and crashing echoed from up the corridor. Ardan shouted, “Where are they?”

  “You swear it’s not here,” Moon hissed.

  “I swear.” Rift’s eyes burned with sincerity. “He took it away somewhere.”

  There wasn’t much of a choice. Moon let Rift go and rolled to his feet. More guards rushed the door, and Moon slammed through them, knocking them sprawling. Rift jumped over his head, clung to the ceiling, then leapt down the hall. Moon tore after him and rounded the corner just as a chorus of crossbow bolts clattered against the stone wall.

  He caught up with Rift in the foyer as three of the bulbous guardcreatures barreled in th
rough the stairwell doorway. Rift threw himself at the first, hands and feet ripping at its face. The other two tried to crowd past. Moon jumped and landed on top of the first one’s head. He slashed at the clawed hands that reached for him and dove forward, over their heads and out the doorway. Out in the stairwell, he whipped around and ripped open the back of the one still trapped in the door. All three creatures roared. Ardan’s groundling guards, stuck in the foyer with their path blocked, shouted. Then Rift tore his way out over the creatures’ heads.

  Rift bounded down the stairs, Moon right behind him. But Rift turned off at the next landing and slammed through a door. Moon hesitated. It led into a foyer and hall not much different from the one they had just escaped. Rift stopped to whisper, “This way—we can’t go down the main stairs. He’ll order his men to shoot us.”

  Moon’s nerves were as tight as wire at the idea of trusting Rift, but he heard the guard-creatures clumping down the stairs, and there was no time to argue. He ducked through the door, dragged it closed behind him, and ran after Rift.

  They passed more doors, a confusing maze of empty rooms, then Rift took a smaller door into a plain room that held only a big iron stove. It was almost as tall as Moon, but cold and dusty with disuse.

  Rift climbed up to stand atop it, and explained, “This makes heat for the bathing rooms above. They only use it when it gets cold.”

  A copper-sheathed chimney led up from it, and for a moment Moon thought Rift meant them to escape through that. It looked far too small and it was going the wrong direction. But there was a grate in the wall behind it, and Rift pried it open with his claws. It opened into a much larger shaft that led down through the wall of the tower. A cool breeze flowed from it, carrying the faint odors of outside air. “This is for ventilation,” Rift said as he climbed inside. “Ardan doesn’t know I’ve been down here.”

  “Then why didn’t you escape before?” Moon followed him reluctantly. There were so many things he didn’t like about this that he couldn’t settle on which was the worst.