The Books of the Raksura: The Complete Raksura Series

by Martha Wells

  “They keep trying to kill us,” Drift protested.

  “Because Ardan ordered them to,” Moon said impatiently. “He’s dead, and we can’t fight every groundling in this city. If they think we’re out to slaughter them, they’ll all band together against us.”

  “And because I said so,” Jade added, and cuffed Drift in the head. She clearly wasn’t in any mood to put up with an argument. She nodded to Moon, and he and Vine pushed the panel out and lifted it away, letting in a spill of brighter light from the corridor. Moon was the first one out.

  Moon took a deep breath of air only lightly tinged with the leviathan’s stench. After the underground and the mortuary, the polished floors and bright vapor-lights were a relief.

  He led the way around and out from under the stairwell, to the main room. It seemed even bigger without the giant waterling, with the chains that had supported it hanging empty. The outer door was securely locked and barred, but there were no guards and no sound of movement anywhere. Most if not all of them must have gone with Ardan. Presumably the survivors would be looking for new jobs and wouldn’t be returning here.

  “It feels empty,” Rift said, his voice hushed. “But the servants must still be here.”

  Moon tasted the air. He caught only the scents of decay from the upper exhibit hall and the traces left behind of the giant waterling. “Somebody would have had to open the doors for Ardan and the others when they came back.”

  Jade ordered, “Search the place, chase out any of Ardan’s people left behind, and find the prisoners.”

  Leaving Jade and Chime behind to guard Flower and the seed, and Stone to watch the outside door, they all spread out to search the place floor by floor.

  Moon followed the stairs up through the tower and opened every door he came to, breaking the locks if necessary. Vine flushed out the first frightened servant, and they quickly organized a system for chasing them out to the stairwell where Song or Root waited to make sure they ran all the way down and out the front door, where Stone made certain they left. They didn’t run into anyone who was armed; Ardan must have taken all his guards with him to the mortuary.

  They were all hungry and drooping with exhaustion. The younger warriors were having difficulty keeping up, and Karsis had to tow Esom up the stairs. On the third floor above the exhibit halls they passed a foyer with a running fountain. Moon stepped into it just long enough to put his head under the spray and wash the last residue of the leviathan off his scales. It helped revive him a little. It had been a long time without sleep or real food, and he didn’t know how much longer he and the others could last.

  They were in the upper levels of the tower, where the public rooms were, exploring a servants’ area near a second set of kitchens, when Balm stumbled on a heavily locked door that seemed to lead to a separate section of the level. They forced open the door to find a corridor with doors not unlike the guest quarters—except these doors had no open transoms to allow in light and air, and all had locks on the outside. “This could be it,” Esom breathed. He ran to the first door and pounded on it, shouting, “Negal? Orlis?”

  Karsis took the other side of the corridor, pounding on each door. Midway down, someone inside shouted an incomprehensible answer and pounded back.

  “It’s them!” Karsis fumbled at the lock as Esom ran to join her.

  Balm glanced at Moon, got a nod, and went to help them. She broke the lock off the handle and ripped the door open.

  Negal stepped out first, then stopped, astonished. He stared from Esom to Balm, Moon, and past them at Vine, who looked in from the foyer. Orlis and six other men crowded behind him. They were all a similar type of groundling, with dark hair and brown skin, dressed in worn clothes, with the thin, pinched look of people who had been away from the sun and fresh air for a long time. Smiling with relief, Negal said to Esom, “I take it the situation has changed drastically?”

  Esom explained, “Ardan is dead, and we have an alliance with them, now.” He gestured vaguely toward Moon and the others. “Of course, most of the population of the island probably wants to kill us—”

  Karsis cried, “But we’re alive and finally free!” She hugged Negal, overcome with emotion, and Moon and Balm hastily withdrew to the foyer. “Stay with them. Keep an eye on them,” Moon told Balm, speaking in Raksuran to avoid any awkwardness. “Make sure the others are as willing to be friendly as Karsis and Esom. And keep Rift away from them.”

  Balm nodded understanding, and glanced back at the groundlings. “I will. Especially the part about Rift.”

  Moon left her with them, took Vine, and continued the search.

  In a stairwell foyer two levels up, they ran back into Floret and Song.

  “I found some groundlings hiding in these rooms,” Floret said. “A woman, and some baby groundlings. The babies screamed when they saw me. When I shifted, they just screamed again.” Looking embarrassed, she admitted, “It’s a little upsetting. I don’t want to scare them anymore.”

  She, Song, and Vine all stared expectantly at Moon. Song said, encouragingly, “You know how to talk to groundlings.”

  Moon sighed. Warriors weren’t fertile and presumably had little experience with children. Except to play with them occasionally, and hand them back to the teachers when the babies got tired or hungry. “Wait out here. Stay back away from the door.”

  Moon went into the anteroom. The statues carved into the walls were female, the first ones he could remember seeing here, draped with graceful swaths of fabric and, unlike the male statues, smiling faintly. He shifted to groundling, and staggered, nearly going to his knees. Every cut and bruise, every sore and strained muscle, was suddenly magnified

  a hundredfold. He groaned, managed to straighten up, and walked into the suite.

  It was furnished even more finely than the other private rooms Moon had seen, with thick carpets and heavy hangings on the walls in patterns of soft colors. The wooden furniture was elegantly carved and set with polished mother-of-pearl, the vapor-lamps shaped into fanciful fish and seabirds. It smelled of the perfumes the wealthy groundlings here wore, cloying false-flowery scents, combined with a musk of fear. Moon heard muffled weeping and followed it back through the rooms

  to a bedchamber. A young blue-pearl woman wrapped in a rich robe was huddled on the floor between the heavily draped bed and a carved chest, with four blue-pearl children of varying ages, all sniffling in terror. There was an elderly blue-pearl man and a woman huddled in with them, both dressed like servants.

  Moon said to the young woman, “You have to leave now. Do you have somewhere to go? Your family’s house, maybe?”

  She stared at him in confusion, the light blue skin around her eyes bruised with weeping. But some of the panic in her face subsided. If she had met Rift, she had to know Raksura could look like groundlings, but maybe she was only seeing Moon as a slender young man in dark clothing, and not a potential monster. Or maybe what he had said was so far from her worst fear that it had shocked her back to her senses. She said, hesitantly, “May I take anything?”

  “Sure.” Moon figured she would probably need money. She glanced at the chest and Moon saw jewelry spilled across the top, silver chains with polished gemstones. He said, “Take all that.”

  Moon waited while the woman and the two servants hurriedly swept the jewelry into a bag and collected clothing and a few other possessions. The activity seemed to calm them down, and he ended up helping one of the children extract a cloth doll from under the bed. He led them out to the foyer, where the woman flinched at the sight of the lurking Raksura, who all fled up the stairwell when Moon grimaced at them.

  He shepherded the groundlings down the stairs, through the lower exhibit hall. Stone, in his groundling form, was standing beside the passage to the outer doors. The adults avoided looking at him, as if they were afraid to see some outward sign of what he was. But the children stared curiously, and Stone quirked a smile at them as they passed.

  Moon pushed the outside doo
r open for them. The sun was shining, the miasma that usually hung over the leviathan torn away when the creature had jolted into motion. The plaza and the surrounding walkways were empty, though somewhat protected from the rush of wind. The woman blinked at the daylight as if she had never expected to see it again. Moon said, “Will you be all right?”

  “It’s not far,” she said, automatically. Then she focused on him, her eyes intent. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged uneasily. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She nodded tightly, then turned away. He watched the little group walk away across the plaza and take a path toward the nearest cluster of towers.

  Moon went back inside, and helped Stone pull the door shut and lever the locks and bars into place again.

  As they came back out into the exhibit hall, Jade leapt down from the gallery. She caught Moon by the shoulders, her expression worried and preoccupied. “Moon, you should rest. We’ll need you when the groundlings are ready to talk. We can’t try to get to the harbor until after nightfall, anyway.”

  That was true. They needed to make a plan to reach the harbor and steal back Negal’s flying boat. Moon considered it, wavering back and forth, then thought, Why not? He might as well give in to his consort’s privilege to rest while everybody else was working. “All right.”

  Jade pointed him toward the back corridor of the tower. “Go back there. Flower is resting and Chime’s watching over her.”

  Moon found his way toward the back of the first floor of the tower, to what must be the servants’ and guards’ quarters. A short stair led up to a big common room. There were thin rugs, not nearly as nice as the ones upstairs, padded benches, and a few stray floor cushions. A couple of narrow corridors and several small rooms opened off it. He looked into the first room to see Flower lying on the bed with Chime sitting beside her. She was in groundling form, curled around a pillow with the seed tucked under her arm; she looked tiny and almost withered. “Is she all right?” Moon whispered. She looked terrible.

  Chime glanced up, his expression uneasy. “I don’t know. She’s just so tired. Rift is showing Root where the food is kept. I was going to try to get her to eat.”

  Without moving, Flower hissed, “Both of you, hush.”

  Moon hastily backed away. He went to one of the padded benches in the common room and sat down, then lay down for a moment to rest his eyes.

  He wasn’t aware of falling asleep, though he was dimly aware of the others coming and going through the room, or lying down to sleep on the floor. He smelled dried fish at one point, but was too tired to wake and look for his share. Then he woke abruptly, with Song leaning over him. She was in her groundling form, and her expression was anxious and a little frightened. “Moon. Flower says it’s time.”

  Moon blinked, having trouble dragging himself out of sleep. “Time for what?”

  Song seemed startled to be asked. “She’s dying.”

  That jolted him fully awake. He sat up, pushed to his feet, and followed Song into the bed chamber.

  Flower still lay on the bed, propped up on some cushions. Her eyes were closed, and her skin looked almost translucent under the vapor-light. Jade sat beside her, in her Arbora form, her spines twitching anxiously. Stone stood nearby, the seed absently tucked under one arm. Chime sat on the floor by the head of the bed, hunched in misery. The other warriors were gathered around in groundling form, all grim and sad.

  Jade glanced up as Moon came in. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Sorry. I would have sent for you sooner, but she wasn’t sure until just now.” She looked around, taking stock of who was here. “Root, Vine is guarding the outer door. Go take his place so he can have a chance to see her. Hurry.”

  As Root darted out of the room, Stone sat down on the bed. He touched Flower’s limp hand, but she didn’t stir.

  “What’s wrong?” Moon asked. Nobody seemed to be doing anything. “What happened to her?”

  Balm said softly, “Nothing. It’s her age, it’s caught up with her.”

  Moon couldn’t believe that they were just standing here. It had to be some stupid Raksuran custom, maybe because there was no other mentor to help her. Chime might have an ability to sense things about the leviathan and Ardan’s magic, but he couldn’t use mentor skills to heal anymore. Moon said, “Karsis is a healer. Let me get her.”

  With a trace of impatience, Jade said, “Moon, it’s no use. It’s Flower’s time.”

  Moon bit back his first angry response. He had to convince them that a groundling healer would be better than nothing, and losing his temper wouldn’t help. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  Flower spoke, her voice a bare whisper, “Moon doesn’t know.”

  Jade frowned and shook her head slightly, not understanding. Chime looked up at Moon then, blinking, startled. The other warriors stared at him, confused. Stone winced, but didn’t look away from Flower. Frustrated, Moon said, “Know what?”

  Chime said, slowly, “She’s been dying. We’ve known for most of the turn. Since before you came.”

  Stunned, Moon looked around at the others. It was in all their expressions. This hadn’t been a surprise to anyone but him. He sank down on the end of the bed. “How did you know?”

  “When her skin and her scales lost all their color, it’s the sign. It means your time is coming…” Jade said, then hissed in realization. “But you didn’t know that.”

  Moon couldn’t answer. Of course he hadn’t known. Before Indigo Cloud, all the Raksura he had known had died by being torn apart by Tath, not from old age.

  Nobody else said anything, not even River or Drift, as if the subject was too sensitive. Chime twitched restlessly, folded his arms. He said, “She should have died at home.”

  Stone made a softly derisive sound. “If she hadn’t come with us, we wouldn’t have a home.”

  In a dry rasp, still without opening her eyes, Flower added, “And don’t you forget it. Now, each of you come and talk to me.”

  Everyone took turns to sit by Flower and speak to her one last time. When Stone prodded Moon to take his turn, he held her hand, the skin and bones as dry and delicate as old parchment. She said, “Don’t give up. Promise me you won’t give up on us.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was having an augury, or if she had just noticed his uncertainty, or both. He said automatically, “I promise.”

  It didn’t take long after that, as if she had only been holding on long enough to say goodbye. Vine left, to go back to guarding the first floor. Moon and the others stayed, as Flower’s breathing grew softer and slower and more shallow, until finally, it stopped altogether.

  Moon turned away, went blindly through the common room, out into the corridor. He couldn’t watch the others’ grief; it felt private. They had known Flower all their lives, she had held them when they were fledglings. In Stone’s case, he must have watched her grow up. Moon’s feelings couldn’t compare to that.

  When he walked into the exhibit hall, he saw Negal and Esom at the bottom of the stairs with three other groundlings from their crew. Esom looked bleary and half-awake, as if he had been dragged out to talk to the dangerous Raksura when he would rather be sleeping. He called, “Moon, what’s going on? Is there a plan yet for how we’re going to—”

  “Flower died,” Moon said.

  Taken aback, Esom stared. “Oh. I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was injured.”

  Moon shook his head; he couldn’t explain now. “Just give us a little time.” Without waiting for an answer, he shifted and leapt up to the gallery, ignoring the startled exclamations from the other groundlings.

  He paced the hall there, past the decaying Tath and the other creatures, half-listening as Esom persuaded Negal and the others to go back upstairs to wait. It was hard to believe that it had really happened, that Flower was really gone. He had never seen anyone die from old age before. It had been so quiet.

  Moon ended up standing in the cubby with the dead sea kingdom woman. He wondered what would hap
pen to her when someone else took over the tower, what they would do with her body, if there were any other imprisoned spirits here like the waterling, or if Ardan’s death had released them. After a time he heard movement and looked up to see Jade, moving slowly down the hall, looking at Ardan’s collection. She was in her Arbora form, her spines flattened in dejection.

  When she reached the cubby, he shifted back to groundling, and said, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just…” Jade rubbed her temple and frowned down at the sealing’s body. “I have to get used to the idea that she’s gone.” She looked up at him, wincing apologetically. “Moon, I’m sorry. I never thought that you didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. He didn’t want her to apologize to him for something that wasn’t anyone’s fault. “She didn’t tell me.” Moon had asked Flower if Raksura were born live or in eggs; she had to have realized he didn’t know how they died of old age, either.

  “Maybe she wanted someone to talk to who didn’t know.” Jade touched a curl of the sealing’s hair, then drew her hand back, as if she had just realized it was a real body and not a very realistic statue. “When the change first happens to someone, it’s a shock. After a while, you get used to it. No one talks about it, but you don’t forget.”

  No one had talked about it at Emerald Twilight, but they had seen Flower and surely realized she was dying. Moon wondered if that was why Ice had been inclined to let the mentors help them, for Flower’s sake.Ice, he thought suddenly. Her scales are nearly white. Queens lived longer than Arbora, but she must be nearing the end of her life. He wondered who would replace her, if it would be Tempest or someone else, if Shadow would retain his influence or be just another older consort. He would have to ask Jade and Stone. Their alliance with Emerald Twilight might be even more tenuous than it had seemed. Worry about that later,he told himself. We have to get back home first.

  Moon suddenly didn’t want to stand here with the dead any more. He took Jade’s wrist, absently rubbed his thumb over the softer scales on the back of her hand. “We need to talk to Negal about their ship, how we can get to it.”