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The Books of the Raksura: The Complete Raksura Series

Page 90

by Martha Wells


  “I was with the Arbora survivors. There were maybe a hundred of us, and the wounded warriors, what was left of the children and fledglings. We were hidden in the forest near the colony. Malachite, the warriors who were still able to fight, and a couple of young mentors went after the Fell. Three nights later, Malachite came back alone and told us to follow the coast back to the west, back here to the mother colony, that she and the others would catch up with us when they could.”

  The enormity of that was hard to imagine. “That’s a long way to walk.”

  “We thought so,” Feather admitted. “But we started out. Slowly at first, with all the wounded, but we made better progress once the warriors recovered and could carry us for short distances. We got messages from Malachite along the way. She would send warriors to check on us, make sure we were still well and that she could find us when she needed to. She wouldn’t let the warriors who had healed up join her, made them stay with us. Then in the rainy season, months and months later, she came with the others. She brought all the prisoners back, except your father. He was dead, along with twelve of the warriors.” Her expression held remembered anguish. “We didn’t know how many prisoners the Fell had. We’d convinced ourselves that most of the court had survived. Seeing how few there were…” She shook herself, shaking off the memory, the beads in her hair clicking. She looked up at him, bewildered. “I don’t understand how we missed you. You were alone all that time?”

  “Until this turn. Stone, the line-grandfather from Indigo Cloud, found me.”

  Feather hissed, a combination of frustration and regret. “I wonder…Do you remember how long the warrior fled with you? If the Fell were chasing her—She must have gone some distance from the colony, or we would have stumbled on her.”

  “I don’t remember. The Fell could have followed her because she was carrying us, because they wanted children.” After Indigo Cloud’s experience with the Fell flight who had been determined to crossbreed Raksura, it was a real possibility. “What did the Fell do to the prisoners? Did they try to make them breed with the progenitor and the rulers?”

  Feather sat back, eyes widening in astonishment and consternation. He thought he had shocked her, until she said, “How did you know about that?”

  So that’s a ‘yes,’ Moon thought. “It almost happened to Indigo Cloud, before the colony moved to the Reaches. It was a Fell flight that had bred with Raksura before, and wanted more of us. They had a few dakti with mentor powers, and a female ruler who was part Raksuran queen.” Even as he said it, a horrible realization struck, that Ranea and the mentor-dakti might have been born from the Opal Night prisoners. “It wasn’t—That couldn’t have been the same flight that attacked—”

  “What? Oh no, no.” Feather shook her head emphatically. “Malachite killed their progenitor, and— There were none of our people left with them. The warriors told me there wasn’t much left of the flight at all.”

  Moon subsided, relieved. Now that he thought about it, the timing didn’t match what Ranea had told him about her flight’s multiple attempts to crossbreed Raksura. And she was part queen. She would have recognized my bloodline. She surely wouldn’t have missed the chance to gloat over it. He said, “Opal Night should already know what happened to Indigo Cloud. The word’s been spreading through Emerald Twilight to the other courts.”

  “If Malachite and Onyx know, they didn’t tell us.” Feather still seemed distracted. “Not yet, anyway.”

  Watching her, Moon felt like he had the end of a tangled mass of threads, and if he pulled in the right spot, the whole thing would come apart. If he just knew what the right spot was. “Does that have something to do with why Malachite had me brought here?”

  “No, how could it?” Feather looked up, frowning. “Wait, Moon, didn’t you want to come?”

  Moon didn’t want to go through the story again, but he had to give her an answer. “I was taken by the sister queen of Indigo Cloud. I wanted to stay.”

  Feather, at least, didn’t try to argue with him. Her brow furrowed in sympathy. “I suppose they had no choice but to let you go.”

  “She said she’d come after me, but she should have been here by now. I think …” Moon stopped, realizing he had come within a hair’s breadth of confessing the fear that he was infertile. Don’t be stupid. Feather might be sympathetic, but she wouldn’t keep that information from the Opal Night royals. “I’m not counting on it.”

  Feather watched him worriedly. “Why not?”

  Moon shook his head, wishing he hadn’t spoken. Then he sensed motion in the air above them and looked up.

  A green warrior spiraled down from the upper levels of the hall. The slow fall indicated that the approach wasn’t hostile, but Moon pushed to his feet anyway.

  Feather stood as well, murmuring, “That’s Rise.”

  Moon’s thought was She’s here to tell me Jade’s arrived. He cursed himself for the surge of hope even as his heart started to beat faster.

  Rise pulled her wings in to land neatly a polite distance down the reservoir’s rim. She shifted to her groundling form and came toward them. She nodded to Feather, then said to Moon, “The sister queen Onyx has asked that you be present at a meal this evening, with her and her consort, and some members of the court.”

  Moon looked down, trying to hide the disappointment. Stop that, he told himself. Stop thinking about it.

  “Onyx?” Feather said, not seeming pleased by this at all.

  “Onyx,” Rise confirmed, unbending just enough to sound disgruntled.

  Onyx was from the bloodline who had stayed in the Reaches. Still a relation, but presumably a distant one. Moon said, “Will Tempest be there?”

  “She left, earlier this morning.” Rise looked uncomfortable.

  That’s no surprise, Moon thought. As promised, Tempest had abandoned him as soon as possible. He looked from Rise to Feather, whose expression was now mutinous. There was definitely an undercurrent here that had nothing to do with Emerald Twilight’s abrupt departure. “I take it this dinner isn’t a good thing.”

  Feather hissed out a breath. “Onyx and Malachite don’t exactly agree on a number of things. You would think the court would be better for two such strong queens, but not when they’re pulling in such different directions.”

  “What directions?” Moon asked.

  Rise cleared her throat significantly, glaring at Feather. Feather scratched her head, wincing. “Uh…Malachite will have to tell you about that.” It was clearly her turn to be evasive. “Really. She’d have my head if she found out I’d said anything to you.”

  Rise offered suddenly, “You don’t have to go. You could say you don’t feel well, that you want to stay in your bower.”

  It was probably a well-meant suggestion, but this was the first time one of the royals here had actually offered to speak to Moon, and it was an opportunity to find out more about what was actually going on. “No, I’ll go.”

  Feather muttered a curse. With a note of warning, Rise said, “They won’t be kind to you.”

  Moon snorted. The way the other consorts had reacted to him made that plain enough. “It won’t be the first time.” Both Rise and Feather looked puzzled, and he explained, “Raksura don’t like solitaries, and they especially don’t like consorts who are solitaries.”

  Rise, being a warrior and speaking for queens, understood first, and her face went hard. Feather said, bewildered, “But you weren’t a solitary. You were lost.”

  “But I couldn’t prove it.” He felt obscurely guilty, watching Feather’s face fall as understanding set in.

  Rise inclined her head. “I’ll come to your bower when it’s time for the dinner.” She hesitated, as if she wanted to add something, then moved away. She shifted and took to the air, and hard flaps carried her up toward the higher levels of the hall.

  Feather let out her breath. “I should go too. I need to get back to the nurseries or Luster will have a fit.” She stepped close and hugged him tightly. Like all A
rbora, her groundling form felt like a soft cushion over rock hard muscle. She said, “Be careful. And try not to worry. Celadon will be back soon, and Malachite…This is hard for her. Just try to be patient.”

  It was good advice and well-meant, even if he couldn’t take it. Moon hugged her back, and watched her walk away down the path along the reservoir.

  After Feather had gone, Moon wandered around the reservoir to give himself time to think.

  The Fell could have pursued Sorrow, driving her far from the colony, well outside the range that the Arbora had searched for survivors. He wondered if she had ever tried to return, to scout the colony to look for others, or if she had been unable to leave him and the other children for that long, and afraid to take them with her. In her position, Moon might have taken the chance. But that was easy for him to say, not being a desperate, traumatized, and possibly wounded warrior, responsible for four babies and a fledgling, hiding from the Fell in a forest filled with predators.

  There was no way to know, now. He didn’t even know what Sorrow had been planning to do in the future. She might have been waiting until he and the others were old enough to travel, to start her own long journey back to the west.

  It was strange to have so many questions answered, when there was still so much he didn’t know.

  When he went back to his bower, he found someone had left tea warming on the hearth, and brought the clothes he had left drying in the guest bathing room. They were cleaner than the ones he was wearing now, and maybe a little less shabby. On his way here, he had passed his Arbora escort, and Russet had repeated Lithe’s offer to loan him clothes, obviously with the upcoming dinner in mind. Moon had turned her down; the Arbora meant well, but he didn’t want Opal Night’s gifts. Umber had seen him, and even commented on the scarcity of his belongings, so Onyx and her coterie would know; borrowing something finer would just make him look as if he cared about their opinion.

  He drank the tea, then used the bathing room attached to the consort’s bowers, not wanting to give anyone any scope for remarks about dirty solitaries, and changed into his slightly less shabby clothes. Sitting by the hearth and waiting for Rise, he had time to realize the excuse she had suggested for not accepting the invitation might not be stretching the truth too much. He felt light-headed and a little sick.

  He didn’t think it was the long trip. He had flown for longer periods than that, pushing harder, under worse conditions. But he had also slept deeply given every chance; on this trip, the only time he had really slept enough to feel rested had been in Viridian Sea. He hadn’t eaten well, either.

  Presumably being invited to dinner would at least get him some food, though he was certain he would have to pay for it in aggravation.

  Chapter Eight

  The chamber Rise led Moon to was even more impressive than he had been expecting. It was impossible to guess the size or shape of the cavernous place. Widely-spaced fern trees had been planted in the floor and, aided by mentors’ magic, grown up to spread their soft green canopies across the ceiling. The smooth gray trunks were like pillars, and water flowed through a shallow stream that had been carved into the floor, complete with floating plants. The seed nodules that grew just under the broad feathery leaves had been spelled to give off light, so the trees were actually making the light they needed to survive, an artistic touch that probably pleased the Arbora.

  Even this chamber couldn’t be big enough to hold the entire court, but as Rise led the way through the trees, Moon thought it might be more than half empty. Arbora and older warriors were taking their places on rugs and furs scattered on the floor, and as they passed, Moon caught many surreptitious glances. He didn’t see Russet, Lithe, or Feather, or any other familiar faces of the Arbora who had been staying close to the consorts’ hall. He didn’t think that was a particularly good sign. He glanced at Rise, who was trying to keep her expression neutral and mostly just looked grim.

  At the top of the hall, in a circle of trees meant to simulate a forest clearing, the queens and consorts were seated on rich fur rugs. “That’s Onyx and her daughter queens,” Rise spoke in an almost voiceless whisper. “Her consort Umber, and the consorts taken by the queens, and the young consorts of Onyx’s bloodline.”

  Still in her winged form, Onyx was bigger and therefore older than Pearl, and if she stood up would probably be more than a head taller than Moon. Her scales were a dark copper with a red web, and her jewelry, armbands, wristbands, a belt and broad pectoral, was gold with polished red stones. All the consorts were in their groundling forms, with Umber beside Onyx, and the others lounging on the furs behind them. A few had been among the consorts who had fled from Moon in the central well, so Moon wasn’t expecting any support from that quarter. The other queens were seated further away, and two of the daughter queens sat with their consort brothers. They looked young enough that they probably hadn’t been out of the nurseries very long.

  At Onyx’s gesture, Rise led Moon to a fur in front of the group, several paces away from Onyx, with a clear separation between him and the other consorts. Rise hesitated, as if hoping to stay, but Onyx tilted her head and stared her down. Rise made a faint exhalation that might be an under-the-breath hiss, and left.

  Moon sat down. Umber hadn’t looked at him, and the consorts and lesser queens just cast him covert glances and quickly looked away. Onyx stared at him but said nothing. Right, that’s how it’s going to be, Moon thought, unsurprised. He let out his breath in a resigned sigh.

  The chamber was fairly quiet, just a low murmur of talk from the Arbora and warriors seated outside the royal glade. A young male warrior who seemed reluctant to get too close set a plate in front of Moon, with cut pieces of yellow and red fruit and a round of dark brown flatbread. Others were eating already, so Moon took a piece of fruit. He had reached the point where he wasn’t hungry anymore, which wasn’t a good sign. He forced himself to eat, hoping by the time the meat arrived his stomach would be more cooperative. He had managed to get two pieces of fruit and a piece of bread down, when Onyx said, “So this is Malachite’s lost offspring.”

  “That’s what they tell me,” Moon said, and took another bite of fruit. He realized a moment later, as the other consorts stared, that he hadn’t been expected to answer. Well, it was too late now, and it wasn’t as if anything he said or did here was going to change their opinion of him.

  Onyx didn’t register surprise, but he could sense her interest sharpen. “And you lived feral in the forest for forty turns.”

  “No.” Moon deliberately chewed and swallowed the fruit, though it went down like a piece of rock. “I lived feral in a lot of places for forty turns.”

  He could tell the consorts and other queens were listening avidly, though most affected attitudes of boredom with varying degrees of success. Onyx said, “With groundlings.”

  “Sometimes.” He licked the juice off his fingers, and added, “When they’d have me.”

  Onyx’s spines trembled. Moon suspected his self-possession was annoying to her. She wanted him off-balance and diffident, she wanted him to attempt to ingratiate himself; she wanted something from him that she wasn’t getting. Then she asked, “In their beds?” Her smooth voice held a combination of idle curiosity and contempt.

  The consorts who were pretending not to listen slid sideways looks at him. The closest warriors and Arbora had gone silent.

  Moon felt a wave of heat pass over him. No one at Indigo Cloud had ever asked that question, not Jade, not Chime. Not even Stone, though he had to know the answer already, since he knew Moon had been living with a groundling woman. Moon had thought it didn’t matter to the Raksura. Another thing you got wrong. He said, “That’s none of your concern.”

  Onyx tilted her head, and there was a long fraught pause. “Your manners leave something to be desired.”

  That was like a Tath calling a Ghobin ugly. Managing to sound as if he was really curious, Moon said, “Isn’t that usually considered the fault of the birthcourt? Mine ab
andoned me and four Arbora children to die in the forest, so maybe they aren’t the best example.”

  The silence spread through the big room. Onyx sat up, spines flicking. Her voice hardened as she said, “And your former queen at Indigo Cloud provided no instruction?”

  Of course Onyx knew exactly where to strike back. “She didn’t have much time for it. There was a Fell attack to fight off.”

  Onyx went still, and there was an uncomfortable stir among the consorts and sister queens. Moon had been hoping to work his way back to another reference to abandoning children, since that had worked so well the first time, but it seemed he had touched a different nerve. Were they that tense about a reference to the Fell attack that had happened more than forty turns ago, at an eastern daughter colony where Onyx and these other young queens and consorts hadn’t even been present? That couldn’t be it.

  Probing the sensitive spot, Moon said, “She could have abandoned the court to the Fell, but she didn’t.” There was an indrawn breath, a deeper silence from the listeners surrounding them. “That’s not a choice every queen would make—”

  Onyx leapt to her feet and crossed the few paces between them in one bound, spines flared, furious. Moon fell back, half sprawled on the fur and scrabbled backward. His panicked attempt to shift was squelched as firmly as if he had been born a groundling. He snarled up at Onyx; if he was going to die or get a beating in front of half the court he wanted to at least go out fighting. Then Onyx froze.

  Something had perceptibly changed in the room’s atmosphere. Onyx twitched and hissed, then whipped around to face another queen who stood only a few paces away.

  She was the same size and build as Onyx, but where Onyx was copper and red, she was a green so dark it was almost black. For a moment Moon thought the contrasting web pattern across her scales was a light gray, then realized it was scar tissue, spidering across her scales and obscuring the colors. She wore no jewelry except for silver and crystal sheaths on her claws. She was too old, too big for a sister queen. This had to be Malachite.

 

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