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.”
That was certainly true. Moon watched him, trying to gauge whether Chime was just being brave or if he really wanted to go. “What happened with the last forerunner city was pretty bad,” he said, aware this was a big understatement.
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.”