The Serpent Sea

by Martha Wells

  Stone controlled a hiss, his jaw set. Then he flung his arms in the air. “Fine! Then get off your asses and hunt!”

  As Stone stomped away, Chime, Balm, and Vine scattered toward the forest. “Hah,” Flower commented, and started back up the bank, wading through the tall grass.

  Jade gave Moon a look, lifting a brow. He turned to stare out over the sea to avoid her gaze. Up to this point, the journey had been fairly straightforward. Now if the map was wrong, if they couldn’t find the island, they would have to turn around and go back to Indigo Cloud. And then figure out where to look for a new colony.

  They made a camp on one of the broad lower branches of a small mountain-tree at the edge of the forest, only about a hundred or so paces above the ground. Jade kept watch over Flower and Stone while they napped, and Balm and Vine went hunting. Chime dug in the shallows, looking for roots, and found some sand melons and big white clams, while Moon wandered along the shore and made sure nothing tried to eat him.

  Balm and Vine came back shortly with two hoppers out of a herd further back in the forest, one for Stone and one for the rest of them to share. After they had cleaned up in the lake, Balm flew back up to the tree to talk to Jade. Vine stayed on the beach, and Moon took the opportunity to ask him, “Why are you so anxious to help Jade now?”

  “Do I look anxious?” Vine said, cleaning his claws in the grass at the water’s edge.

  Moon didn’t react to the attempt at a joke, and Vine said, reluctantly, “I’m older than River, I’m bigger than River, and he doesn’t like me. And I’m not thrilled about having to defer to him. And that’s how it’s going to be, until Pearl gets tired of him.” He shrugged his spines. “It’s different for Floret. No male warrior is going to order the female warriors around. They’re too big, and they stick together.”

  It had the ring of truth. Moon said, “So you think you’ll do better with Jade?”

  Vine correctly interpreted the undertone of that question. “I think I don’t have to put up with River telling me what to do. Jade’s always been close to Balm; she was never interested in male warriors. And now you’re here, I’m guessing no male warrior is going to have much chance with her.”

  Vine had that part right. Moon still didn’t entirely trust him, though his motives made sense.

  After they ate, Stone said only, “Don’t wait up,” before he shifted and set off across the water.

  They watched from the branch, through the screen of leaves, until Stone’s outline dwindled in the distance. Moon let out his breath, frustrated. He couldn’t just sit here and wait.

  It was a good day for flying, the bright blue sky clear except for a few high clouds. He turned to Jade. “We could scout along the shoreline, maybe find some sign that groundlings were here.”

  It was a relief that Jade didn’t ask why they should bother, or what good it would do if they did find evidence of groundlings, because Moon couldn’t answer either one of those questions. She looked at the warriors inquiringly. “Well? Scout or rest?”

  “I’ll scout,” Balm said, sitting forward. She looked anxious for something to do as well.

  Chime nodded. Vine said, “I’ll go with Balm.”

  “No.” Jade looked down the shoreline. She was in her Arbora form, and her shorter mane of spines trembled as she tasted the air. “I’ll go with Balm. Vine will stay here with Flower.”

  Vine gasped at the unfairness. “Why me?”

  Jade twitched her tail, but she sounded more amused than angry. “Because I said so.”

  It’s a test, Moon thought. Another test. Jade must have also noticed that Vine seemed to be changing his allegiance from Pearl to her. It would be good if he did; Jade could use another male warrior, especially an experienced adult like Vine.

  Vine grumbled and made it clear he was being ill-used, but didn’t make any real protest. Jade and Balm set off to the south, and Moon and Chime headed north.

  

  Moon flew along the curve of the shore, maintaining an easy pace so Chime could keep up with him. The fields between the forest and the beach were thick with grass and flowers, empty except for an occasional herd of grasseaters. Big and slow-moving, their backs were protected by a heavy green shell, so that only their little heads and stumpy feet were visible. Not a very good prospect for prey if they had to stay here much longer.

  Moon wanted to get a good look at the shoreline, though he wasn’t certain what he was looking for. A groundling town with a harbor would be nice, a place where people who came across the sea to explore the forest might land their boats.

  To his surprise, it wasn’t long before he found it, or what was left of it. First he spotted stone pilings standing in the shallow water, making a rough square shape. He tilted his wings, gliding downward for a closer view. It looked like the remains of a dock or a platform that had been built out from the shore. If there were any remnants left on the land, they were hidden under the grass.

  The further they went, the more pilings they found, tracing the outlines of more elaborate structures. Soon they were flying over the scattered foundations of a whole maze of buildings, long docks, and causeways. Moon cupped his wings and dropped down to land on a broken pillar more than three paces across. The stone was chipped and coated with moss. Tiny blue fish darted in the water just below. Chime managed to land on another piling nearby and flailed his wings for balance. “This was a huge city,” Chime called.

  Moon turned to look down the shore. He had been so focused on what was below them, he hadn’t noticed what was ahead. “Looks like some of it’s still there.” Some distance down the shoreline, he could just make out structures, round beehive shapes, standing high above the water. They might be a part of the ruined city still standing, or other inhabitants had taken over the old pilings for their own use.

  “What?” Chime turned, his spines lifted as he spotted the distant shapes. “Huh. I wonder if they know anything about the groundlings out in the sea.”

  “We can ask,” Moon said.

  

  As they drew near the beehive city, they turned away from the shore, into the forest. Flying under the cover of the tree canopy, they landed on a branch at the edge of the open beach.

  From here, Moon saw the buildings were made of braided wood, some hundreds of paces tall. They stood on a wooden grid built out over the water, using the old pilings as foundations. A fleet of light woven boats were tied up under the grid, but the inhabitants seemed to be farmers rather than fishers. Vines grew up out of the water, trained to wind up wooden racks along the sides of the walkways, until some of the hives looked as if they were growing out of a miniature forest. He could see the inhabitants, too, paddling their boats, crossing the catwalks between the upper levels of the hives, picking some sort of fruit or pods off the vines. They were Kek, just like the ones who lived under the mountaintree roots.

  “This is no help,” Chime said, disappointed. “They couldn’t be the groundlings who came to our tree. The forest Kek would have known what they were.”

  He was right. It was vaguely possible that the forest Kek had told them an elaborate lie to cover up the actions of their seashore-dwelling cousins, but this was still far from where the seed was supposed to be. And these Kek looked a little bigger, but were still no match for the bones of the dead thieves. “Maybe they saw something. It’s worth asking.”

  It was worth asking, but Moon still felt strange flying into a groundling settlement, even a Kek settlement at the edge of the Raksuran Reaches. He circled over the area nearest the shore first, Chime following his lead, just to see what the reaction would be.

  The Kek didn’t seem frightened or angry at the sight of two Raksura in the air. They came out of the vine racks and the hives to look up, point and call to each other.

  Bracing himself, Moon circled down toward an open section of platform and cupped his wings to land. The wood creaked as his weight settled on it; it was surprisingly spongy underfoot. Moon folded his wings to make room
as Chime dropped down behind him. The Kek gathered around the edge of the platform and crowded the catwalks above. They kept their distance but still didn’t seem afraid.

  One Kek came toward them. Like the old leader in the forest, he had stringy white growths on his arms and a squarish head. In Raksuran, he said, hopefully, “Trade?”

  Moon wished he had thought of that, but he had no idea what the Kek would want. He countered, “No. Talk?”

  A little taken aback, the Kek looked from Moon to Chime. “Talk, yes?”

  Chime tugged on one of Moon’s spines and whispered, “Shift.”

  I hate this part. Moon was never going to get over feeling vulnerable in front of a large crowd of groundlings who knew what he was, not even the Golden Islanders or the Kek. Chime was still tugging. Moon shook off his grip and shifted to his groundling form. The cool wind off the water pulled at his shirt, and the bright sun, which he had barely felt on his scales, warmed the back of his neck.

  Chime followed suit, and the watching Kek murmured to each other in what sounded like approval.

  The leader gestured for them to follow and led them further into the city, between the high wooden hives. The heavy greenery grew everywhere, hanging from racks overhead, climbing the hive walls. The place smelled of sweet green plants and moss, combined with the clean acrid scent that came from the Kek themselves.

  On the brief walk they mutually managed to establish that the leader was called Khitah, and they were called Moon and Chime. Presumably the Raksura this city normally traded with could speak Kek, because Khitah had as much trouble speaking Raksuran as the forest Kek, and didn’t know any other groundling languages. Listening to him, Moon thought it was more the way the Kek’s mouth and throat were constructed; Khitah seemed to know far more Raksuran words than he could manage to say.

  Khitah led them under one of the walkways bridging two of the hives and stopped to gesture up at it. Mounted along the arch of the bridge were several wooden plaques. Carved of warm-toned wood, they depicted views of the beehive city, with Kek paddling boats and harvesting their plants. It was clearly Arbora work.

  Moon nodded, trying to look appreciative. Khitah seemed pleased.

  Keeping his voice low, Chime said, “We should have brought them a gift.”

  Exasperated, Moon asked him, “Did you know we were coming? Because I didn’t.”

  “I’m just saying that next time we should—”

  Moon turned to Khitah. “We want to ask about other people who live out on the sea. Islands? That way?” He pointed out toward the water, roughly in the direction the mentors thought the seed lay. “Islands. People,” Khitah agreed, and made an expansive gesture, indicating most of the sea.

  “Good. But what about that way?” Moon pointed again.

  Khitah considered it, as the breeze stirred the feathery growths on his arms and head. He waggled his stick-like fingers in what seemed to be the Kek equivalent of a shrug.

  “Maybe they just don’t know,” Chime said, a little frustrated. “Those round boats couldn’t make it very far out into the water.”

  “But they trade.” Moon had forced himself to shift in front of a strange groundling settlement with only Chime for company, and he was unwilling to give up so soon. “They have to see who travels back and forth here.”

  Maybe some of those words struck a bell for Khitah, because he turned back to the passage and motioned them to follow again.

  They wound their way further into the city, through the green shadows of the plant racks and into the bottom level of one of the hives. Overhead, Kek moved on the reed floors, called to each other in their soft voices, peered curiously down at the visitors.

  They went down a ramp, then came out again to a dock area open to the sea. Partly sheltered from above by woven reed canopies, it had small wooden piers snaking out into the lapping water. Round Kek boats were tied up along most of the piers, except for one. Next to it was a large leafless tree, apparently growing up out of the water.

  Not a tree, a boat, Moon realized, moving down the dock to get a closer look. It was round, the gray branches arching up from a thick mossy mat to form a bowl-shape. Something sat in the center, its form obscured by the branches.

  Khitah pointed emphatically toward the strange boat. “Water traveler,” he said. “Go long way. Know much.” Moon started to step down onto the pier, but Khitah put a hand on his arm. His grip was light, like being caught by dry brush. He stared hard at Moon and said, “Careful.”

  Moon nodded. The warning just confirmed his suspicion. “I will.”

  “Why?” Chime squinted to get a better look at the shadowy shape inside the branches. “It’s just a groundling in a boat… isn’t it?”

  “No. Stay here with Khitah.” Moon stepped down onto the pier, the reeds creaking under his weight, and moved toward the water traveler.

  Drawing closer, he could see root-like tendrils floating in the water, growing out from the underside of the mat. The gray branches looked less like wood and more like gnarled horn. They were connected to the being that sat in the center, growing out of its arms, legs, back, chest. It wasn’t a groundling sitting in a boat; it was a waterling, and it was the boat.

  A voice said, “Now what’s this?” It spoke Altanic, low and sibilant. Something about it made the back of Moon’s neck itch. The scent wafting toward him had a rank edge to it, odd for a water being of any kind. It was a predator’s scent. “A curious groundling come to talk to old Nobent?”

  “You could say that.” Moon crouched on the pier, so his head was about even with Nobent’s. It gave him a better view of the water traveler’s face. It looked a little like a male groundling, his skin gnarled and gray like the horn structures growing out of his body. There were chips of the stuff above his eyes, down his cheeks, studding the curve of his skull. It wasn’t that the growths or the gray coloring were particularly repellent. Stone was gray and a little gnarled too, though not to this extent. But this creature radiated menace. “I need to know if there are any groundlings living out on the sea, that might travel to this shore.”

  Nobent leaned forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Moon saw the outer branches of the boat stir slightly. Nobent smiled, deliberately revealing a toothless mouth. If he was meant to live like this, floating atop the sea, then there might be a second mouth in the bottom of the mossy-covered base that supported his upper limbs. Top one for talking, lower one for eating, Moon thought. It wasn’t the oddest thing he had seen. The branches looked stiff, but he bet they could whip around, seize prey, and snatch it under water. Obviously the Kek didn’t fear the creature, but there was hardly any meat on their light bones. It said, “Old Nobent doesn’t hear well. Come closer.”

  Oh please, Moon thought. “Does that really work?”

  Nobent hesitated, nonplussed, and something made Moon think that “Old Nobent” wasn’t so old. Nobent’s lips curled in derision. “You’re not scared of old Nobent? Nobent isn’t scary.”

  Nobent was, however, annoyingly single-minded. This could go on forever. Moon shifted, flared his spines, snapped his wings out so they were half-unfurled. “I am.”

  With a startled snarl, Nobent jerked back. His whole structure rocked and splashed water up onto the pier. Unimpressed, Moon flicked droplets off his claws. He said, mildly, “I’m not hungry yet.”

  Nobent crouched, tugged his branches in tightly and made a protective cage around himself. “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want. Tell me about groundlings who live out on the sea. Are there islands out there? Cities, traders? Do they come to this shore?”

  Nobent eased forward, the fear in his expression turning into crafty greed. “Are you Fell? I’ve heard of Fell. You want the sea-goers? I’ll help.”

  Moon controlled the urge to leap forward and rip Nobent’s head off. The fear of Fell had dogged him most of his life. All Fell were shapeshifters, all had black scales, and Fell rulers strongly resembled Raksuran consorts. It didn’t help t
hat once Moon had thought he might be a Fell, for a brief and self-destructive time that he was still paying for, all these turns later. His voice tight, he said, “If I were a Fell, I’d take your help and eat you anyway. Tell me about the sea-goers.”

  Nobent settled into his mossy bed and his branches relaxed a little. “The sea-goers don’t come here. They’re afraid of the forest.” With an air of injured dignity, he volunteered, “The Kek trade their rushes and edilvine to me, and I trade it to the sea-goers.”

  That wasn’t helpful, though it explained why the Kek didn’t know much about what lay further out to sea. And if the sea-goers were afraid of the forest Reaches, it might be because they knew about the Raksuran colonies. “But other groundlings come to this shore, other traders?”

  “Maybe.” Nobent seemed uninterested, and it was the first time in the conversation that Moon felt the waterling was being honest. “Not in a long time. There’s nothing here for them.”

  “What about the far side of the sea? Do groundlings live there?”

  “Probably.” Nobent leaned forward, eyes widening. “You want the seagoers.”

  “Do they live in that direction?” Moon pointed with the tip of his right wing.

  “Sometimes. They move around.” Nobent was more interested in his own questions. “What do you want them for? Nobent can help you, whatever you want to do to them.”

  Moon couldn’t imagine what form Nobent’s “help” would take, and he didn’t want to. He countered with, “What do you trade for from the sea-goers?”

  For some reason, that one made Nobent more cagey than ever. Moon asked more questions about the sea-goers, about what they looked like, why they moved around. Nobent’s answers were so cryptic it quickly became obvious that he had no intention of imparting the information. Moon decided to let it go, at least for now. He had found out what he really needed to know: there were groundlings living out on the sea at the point where the mentors’ map said the seed lay. Nobent couldn’t travel very fast, and now that Moon had his scent, he would be easy to track down again.