Edge of Worlds (The Books of the Raksura) by Martha Wells
Callumkal clearly didn’t think it worth discussing. “That’s assuming the city is sealed in some way. The entrance may simply be hidden.”
Jade tilted her head. “We’re all making a great many assumptions.”
Callumkal glanced at Vendoin. Moon had the idea they hadn’t expected a Raksuran queen to be quite so interested in debating their conclusions and theories, at least during this discussion. Callumkal said, “I . . . assume you will want some time to make a decision. I hope you will not refuse us outright but will take some—”
“I’ll return here to tell you our decision tomorrow morning.” Jade twitched her spines, a signal to the warriors, who all immediately moved to the edges of the platform and leapt into flight. Chime and Heart shifted, and Chime stood and picked her up.
Jade nodded to Delin. “Are you coming with us or staying?”
“For tonight, I will stay with them.” Delin got to his feet. “I will see you in the morning.”
Vendoin hastily knelt down to pick up the map and fold it. Stone just got up and walked off the edge of the platform. Callumkal stared after him, but Stone didn’t reappear; Moon guessed he had shifted lower down and didn’t want the groundlings to see his other form right now.
Jade turned and strode for the edge of the platform. Moon followed with Chime and Heart, not wanting to spoil the abruptness of Jade’s exit.
“So we’re going,” Chime said, low-voiced. “To the city, I mean.”
Heart, her claws hooked around Chime’s collar flange, said, “We were always going. There wasn’t really another choice.”
Moon said, “I hope Pearl knows that.” He shifted, heard a startled gasp from someone behind him, and leapt into flight after Jade.
They flew back to the colony tree and went on through to the greeting hall, where many curious warriors and Arbora waited to hear what had happened at the meeting. Moon shifted back to his groundling form and stretched, trying to shed some of the tension while Jade and Balm answered the anxious questions.
Chime murmured to Moon, “Well, that was interesting. Why did Jade get so angry?”
“I don’t know.” Moon kept his voice low, watching Jade to make certain no spines pointed in his direction. “She wasn’t when we got there.” Thinking about it in retrospect, Jade had contributed almost as much hostility to the situation as Rorra had. Delin hadn’t exactly been his usual even-tempered self, either.
Jade left the warriors and turned to Chime, motioning Heart to draw near. She asked them, “You can make a copy of that map?”
Heart nodded and glanced at Chime. “We should each do one separately, and then compare them to make sure we’re accurate.”
“We’ll be accurate,” Chime said, perfectly confident.
“When you’re certain, make three copies,” Jade told them. Then she turned to Moon, “Now, I’m going to talk to Pearl. After that, I want you to write a letter to your mother.”
She didn’t stay for an answer, immediately leaping straight up to catch the edge of a balcony. Moon let out a breath in annoyance, watching her start the climb up the well toward the queens’ level.
Chime murmured, “I don’t know which of those things is more frightening.” Heart, apparently meaning to demonstrate how unfunny she found that remark, gave him a little punch in the ribs. Chime shied away from her and said, “Ow. Don’t hit when I’m in groundling form.”
Moon was betting on the encounter with Pearl being worse. He said, grimly, “I’ll tell you later.”
Chime and Heart started down to the lower level workrooms to make the maps. Knowing the talk with Pearl was going to take a while, Moon followed but turned off at the teachers’ hall to visit the nurseries.
Moon spent some time playing with his own fledglings, as well as all the others who were awake. He ended up stretched out on the floor, watching Sapphire, Fern, Solace, Cloud, and Rain roll around trying to kill each other and their companions.
Over by the nearest pool, the teachers Bark and Bead were discussing who they wanted to clutch with. This involved a detailed examination of the good and bad traits of various bloodlines, and who was related too closely to whom. Within the court, breeding was serious business but sex was easy and friendly and casual, a welcome change from some of the places Moon had lived in the past. Warriors were all infertile, and queens and female Arbora could control their fertility at will, so there was no possibility of unwanted babies. Royal Aeriat took warrior lovers, and consorts were expected to have clutches with Arbora to encourage mentor births. Moon hadn’t done that so far, mostly because Jade’s clutching had been so nerve-racking that he couldn’t bring himself to do another one yet.
Bitter and Thorn plopped down next to him, both in groundling form. The two consorts were a little too old now to play with quite such reckless abandon as the younger kids. Over the past season Moon had started to teach them and Frost the basics of fighting, and how to handle their claws, which was easier now that Bitter had actually admitted that he could fly. Moon said, “Where’s Frost?”
Bitter made an elaborate shrug, as if indifferent to Frost’s location. Thorn said, “The hunters are working on hides today and she wanted to watch.”
Moon frowned. “She wants to learn how to tan hides?” He approved, but found it a little odd that Frost was interested.
Bitter gave him a wry look, clearly sad at how naive Moon was. Thorn said, patiently, “No, she wants to hear all about everything that’s going on with the groundlings and the flying boat, and she knows that the hunters will be talking about it.”
That made a lot more sense. “Oh. You know about that?”
Bitter sighed and rolled his eyes, and Thorn said, “Everyone knows. Part of it, anyway. Frost will come and tell us the rest when she finds out.” Regarding Moon seriously, he said, “You’re going off to fight some Fell, before they get into an old groundling city and then come here to attack us, like in the dream everyone had.”
Moon shook his head. “I don’t know yet if I’m going.”
Thorn and Bitter stared. Then Bitter reached over and poked Moon in the head. Thorn said, “You have to go. What if something happens to Jade? Is Chime going?” Bitter leaned over and whispered in Thorn’s ear. Thorn translated, “Bitter says the last time you let them go somewhere without you, something terrible happened.”
Moon winced. “Thorn . . .” Thorn was gentle and perceptive and relentless, all good qualities for a consort, unless you didn’t want to talk about something he wanted you to talk about.
“Are you worried about leaving us and your other clutch?” Thorn continued. “They’re really too young to understand things like that yet. They’ll miss you, but when you come back they won’t be mad, and they won’t really remember how long you were gone. That’s how it was for us at that age.”
“That’s good to know,” Moon said. So if I get killed, it won’t bother them too much. That wasn’t exactly an encouraging thought.
Bitter leaned in to whisper a remark, and Thorn said, “Bitter thinks you’re worried about leaving us. We don’t like it when you go away. But it’s been a long time since you’ve had to go. So . . . I think it’s all right with us.”
Then Sapphire galloped over, flung a ragged doll at Bitter’s chest, and galloped off again. Cloud slammed in to retrieve the doll, and then Bitter and Thorn were enveloped in a mass of fledglings and Arbora babies.
After a while, Moon reluctantly decided enough time had passed that Jade would have finished talking to Pearl, and started up to the queens’ level.
He found Jade in her bower with the writing materials out, impatiently waiting for him. “How was Pearl?” he asked her, taking a seat by the hearth.
“Angry.” Jade’s expression indicated that she realized that was nothing new. “She didn’t give me an answer yet. Ember is in there with her, to nod and say reasonable things, so that’s the best we can hope for.”
Ember was good at nodding and saying reasonable things to queens. It was a
“Of course not. I’ve never seen a live sealing before.” Jade bared her fangs briefly in exasperation. “I don’t know, exactly. Something was just . . . odd . . . about her. I wanted to slam her off that platform before she even said anything.”
Moon realized she was right, he had felt Rorra was aggressive and threatening before she had spoken. If he took the emotion out of it, all she had done at first was be cautious and watchful, which was presumably part of the job she did for Callumkal and the other scholars. “Huh.”
Jade waved off the topic. “Now we need to write these letters. I’m going to write to Emerald Twilight and Sunset Water, but you should write to Malachite.”
After a lot of practice, Moon could read Raksuran fairly well. But his handwriting was still terrible, so what Jade actually meant was that he would talk and she would write it down.
This was how Moon answered letters from Shade and his clutchmate Celadon, usually getting Chime to do the writing part. The letters were carried from court to court along the trade network, so it sometimes took them months to arrive. This letter would be taken directly to Opal Night by Indigo Cloud warriors. And for something this serious, Moon didn’t think he should be involved. This seemed more like a queen thing. He said, “She’s going to know you’re the one writing it. You should just write it and tell her it’s from you.”
Jade put the pen down in exasperation. She had the pressed paper spread out on the floor and a cake of ink in a small bowl, all ready. “How would Malachite know that?”
Moon lifted a brow. It was always best to assume that Malachite knew everything. It was the only way to cope with her.
Jade growled under her breath and picked up the pen. “You’re right, you’re right.”
He watched her write for a moment. “Are you telling her you’re going?”
She stopped and scratched the pen through the ink again. “Yes.”
“Without getting Pearl’s permission?”
Jade’s expression was dry. “I won’t be able to send this for another day or so. By that time, I’ll have her permission. Or not.”
It would take that long for the warrior-messengers to get together supplies for their long trip. “Are you sending her one of the map copies?”
“Yes. Someone else needs to know where we’re going, and what we think we’ll find. Someone all the other courts will listen to. Someone with the resources to do something about it, if it turns out we’re right.” Moon drew breath and Jade said, “Do not ask me how long you think it will take Pearl to decide.”
Moon let the breath out. Stone wandered in and sat down beside the hearth. He asked, “Any word yet?”
“No.” Jade kept writing. “You weren’t very much help.”
“This is between you and her, and you know it.” Stone picked up the teapot and studied the contents critically. “Me trying to put a claw in would have just turned her against you. She would have gotten over it, but we don’t have the time to waste.” He set the pot aside and scrubbed both hands through his gray hair. “I’m too old for this.”
Moon managed not to hiss in exasperation. If Stone wasn’t too old to go wandering off alone, he wasn’t too old for this. And it was even more irritating that Moon couldn’t tell if these complaints were based in reality or just more sulking because Stone was bored or whatever it was that was wrong with him. Moon found himself torn: he wanted Stone to go to protect the others on the trip, but he didn’t want Stone to get hurt, either. What came out when he tried to articulate this was a pointed, “Do you even want to go?”
Stone’s expression showed he did not take the question well. “What does that mean?”
“You don’t have to go. What if something happens at the court while you’re gone? Pearl could use your help.”
Still writing, Jade said, “You’re going to get hurt.”
She wasn’t talking to Stone. Moon tried again, “I’m just saying, you’re not obligated to do this.” Exasperated, he added, “I can’t tell if you want to go or not.”
The court had depended on Stone’s stamina and speed over and over again. The line-grandfathers they had encountered at other courts weren’t like him. Many of them traveled, and some had simply left and never come back. Others stayed at their courts, but didn’t participate actively in court life. But then Stone was old enough to remember when this colony tree had been abandoned, the long journey out of the Reaches and all the hardships the court must have endured before they settled in the eastern colony. That had given him a different outlook on Raksuran life and the duties of consorts than most courts, including Indigo Cloud, were used to. Also, at the point in his life where Stone’s winged form had grown large enough to do whatever he wanted, he hadn’t exactly been reluctant to take advantage of it.
He probably hadn’t been the best choice to teach Moon how to be a Raksura, but then there hadn’t been any other option. And Moon was fairly pleased with how things had turned out. Most of the time.
Jade put the pen down and told Stone, “He doesn’t want you to die, you big old idiot.”
Stone snorted derisively. “We’re all probably going to die because of these stupid groundlings.”
Moon threw his hands in the air and gave up. “Fine, fly yourself to death, see if I care. As long as you’re doing exactly what you want.”
“What is wrong with you?” Stone asked him. “Do you want to go? You said you didn’t.”
“Nothing is wrong with me!” Moon snarled.
“I’m writing to Malachite,” Jade told Stone. She wiped the ink off the pen. “It’s making him uneasy.”
Moon was pretty certain they were both attributing their own feelings to him. Or something like that. He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to talk to Chime. Tell my mother I said hello.”
Moon found Chime down in the mentors’ libraries. It was a long, high-ceilinged chamber, winding some distance into the depths of the colony tree, and the walls were lined with shelves. They were made of a green and white polished agate, and stretched all the way up the high walls. Some were filled with folded and rolled books, their leather covers brightly decorated, but there weren’t nearly enough to fill the space. After generations of travel, Indigo Cloud had lost large portions of its library. Since they had arrived back in the Reaches, the mentors had been trading for copies of books from other courts with some success.
Chime sat on the floor in groundling form, under the biggest cluster of shell lights, various bowls with ink cakes and charcoal drawing sticks set around him. The big square of cloth that would be used to make the map was stretched tight on a board. It was covered with charcoal lines and writing, and Chime seemed to be just sitting there contemplating it. Moon asked, “Are you finished already?”
Chime glanced up. “I’ve got all the rough outlines in, I want to wait for Heart before I start inking them.”
Moon sat on his heels for a closer look. From his own memory of the original map, it looked accurate. “So you’re just sitting here.”
“Thinking.” Chime pointed upward. “Listening.”
It probably didn’t fall under the helpful category so much as the odd but harmless category, but one thing Chime’s new senses had given him was the ability to sometimes hear a strange deep rumble, which the other mentors thought might be the voices of the mountain-trees. Listening harder, he had been able to hear the colony tree, something he had described as a noise like a great storm wind, filled with little murmurs like leaves brushing against each other.
“You’re not upset about going on the trip, are you?” Moon asked. The danger aside, Chime had never liked traveling outside the court, the way Moon and Jade and many of the other Aeriat did.
“No,” Chime assured him. “This is exactly the kind of situation where I might be helpful.”
Chime snorted. “No kidding.” He twitched his shoulders uneasily. “But it was much worse for poor Shade. He was lucky to survive.”
It had been worse than Chime or any of the others knew. Moon hadn’t told anyone else what he had seen the Fell do to Shade. The fact that Shade had come through it at all just showed how strong he was.
Chime continued, “But we don’t know we’ll find the same thing in this city. If it even is a forerunner city, and not these Kish foundation builders. And really, it just seems unlikely that every one of these forerunner cities are prisons for terrible monsters, even if the Fell are hanging around this one.”
“It seems unlikely,” Moon agreed, “but . . .”
“But I’m terrified that it’s true,” Chime finished. “And I don’t know what we’re going to do about it.” He turned to Moon. “You know I don’t mind if you don’t go. I mean, I wish you would. You . . . I don’t want to be away from you that long. But I understand. Is that what you’re worried about?”
“I’m not worried,” Moon said. That wasn’t the right way to say it. “No, I am worried, but . . .” But he didn’t want to tell Chime to stay, or say anything that might be construed that way. He barely felt able to make his own decisions at the moment, let alone decisions for anyone else.
And it was becoming increasingly obvious that he needed to make a decision.
Chime eyed him closely. “You’re doing that thing where you’re really worried and you don’t want to show anyone.”
Moon buried his face in his hands. “I have a clutch now. Two clutches, with the Sky Copper clutch. My place is here. That’s what consorts are supposed to do.”
Chime was silent for a long moment. “I know, but . . . You’re not a normal consort. I’ve never thought you should pretend you are, or make decisions based on that pretense.”
Moon looked up at him and Chime waved his hands and said hastily, “But I don’t mean to tell you what to do.”