For an instant no one breathed. Moon felt a cold trickle down his spine, the sensation of having to suppress his fight reflex. The sole comfort of the shared dream was that it hadn’t been a vision, not a true augury, just a joint fear. Somebody made a faint noise of protest. Moon thought it was Floret. He thought it was a kneejerk “it can’t happen here” reaction, or maybe an “it can’t happen again” reaction. And Merit and Heart had been two of the Arbora carried away from the old colony by the retreating Fell. Maybe that explained Merit’s reluctance to believe in the vision.
Pearl’s spines snapped into a neutral position. Belatedly, Jade did the same. Her voice expressionless, Pearl said, “Explain exactly what you saw.”
Heart kept her voice calm and even too, despite the tension in her body. “We saw major kethel flying in the suspended forest. We couldn’t tell where they were. They carried sacs, and we knew they were full of dakti. We didn’t see any rulers.”
Sacs were tumor-like growths that the kethel secreted to carry the dakti swarms over long distances. They could also make giant ones, carried by multiple kethel, that the whole Fell flight could travel in.
Thistle looked away, her throat moving as she swallowed. “I don’t think it was an intrusion. I think it was part of the vision. It doesn’t mean it’s true, or that it’s going to happen, but it was part of the vision.”
Moon realized Chime was pressing against his shoulder; his breathing was shaky, as if he was trying not to tremble. Moon leaned into him. Chime took a deep breath and said, “Well, I’m glad I didn’t see that after all. The nightmare was bad enough.”
Pearl’s eyes were hooded. “And Heart, what do you think?”
Heart lifted her chin. “I agree with Thistle.”
Merit twitched in discomfort, but didn’t object.
Jade’s brow was furrowed. “The last part is a warning, obviously. If we do the wrong thing, the Fell will raise the strength to attack the Reaches.”
Balm lifted her shoulders, uncertain. “But does it mean that this happens if we go to the city or if we don’t go?”
Moon wanted to hiss in frustration. That was the key point. Both the nightmare and the vision were obviously warnings. The hard part was figuring out what they were warning them about.
Jade rubbed her brow, trying to conceal either fear or exasperation, and added, “Or does it happen if we don’t stop the groundlings from getting inside?”
Stone said, “They can’t get into the city without us. That means we have a chance to get in first, and see what’s there.”
“I did realize that,” Pearl said, her voice a half-growl.
“I’m just making sure we’re clear on what we’re talking about here.” Stone asked Heart, “The vision didn’t say we shouldn’t go?”
Heart touched her forehead, frowning in concentration, and Moon thought again what a lot of responsibility the mentors had. But their visions had kept the court alive, turned uncertain plans into triumphs, recovered the colony tree’s stolen seed, and had once saved Jade and her warriors against impossible odds. That sometimes the visions were too obscure to understand until closer to the event, or didn’t come to the mentors until it was too late, was frustrating, but you couldn’t argue with the successes.
Heart said finally, “I felt that we should send someone with the groundlings. The source of the trouble, the power, is where the groundlings are going.” She looked up, her expression more certain. “I think we should be there when they find it.”
Pearl looked at Thistle. “And you?”
Thistle nodded. “There are things about the vision that are confusing, but I didn’t feel any benefit to staying here. I felt we had to take action.”
Pearl flicked a spine. “Merit?”
Merit grimaced and rubbed his face. “I . . . agree. I just . . .”
Jade finished softly, “Don’t want it to be true?”
Merit nodded grudgingly. “Yes.” He added, “I’m sorry, Thistle.”
Thistle’s stony expression softened, and she nudged Merit’s shoulder in forgiveness.
Pearl sat back, her spines still held rigidly neutral. Jade watched her, keeping her own face blank. Stone was wearing his opaque expression and Moon stopped breathing. Pearl looked around at them all as if this was their fault, and said, “Apparently there is no decision to make after all.” She uncoiled her tail and stood, and told Jade, “Choose who you want to take with you.”
As they left the chamber, Moon told Jade, “I’m going.”
She glanced at him, her expression grim. “I thought you might.”
The argument over who else was going raged for most of the night. Moon gave up after realizing it had been a few hours and went up to his bower to sort out what he needed to take.
Besides the usual supplies for traveling like flints, a blanket, a waterskin, and a knife, he was debating whether to bring extra clothes. For trips with other Raksura, when they weren’t going to another court, he usually didn’t bother. But they were going to be traveling with the groundlings much of the time, and nudity taboos could make washing the ones he was wearing difficult.
He opened a wicker chest and paused as he saw what lay on top, wrapped in a fragment of dark silky cloth. It was the jewelry piece Malachite had given him that had belonged to his father. It was a small disk made of ivory, carved into waved lines, the pointed ends flowing to the left, in a way that symbolized the west wind. The dark rim of jade that had once framed it had snapped off halfway around and the yellow-white ivory was marred by a faint bloodstain.
His father Dusk had been captured and eventually killed by the Fell, as part of an attempt to breed Fell and Raksura together to produce a being able to open the hidden forerunner city. It was proof that being a good consort and sitting at home in your court was no guarantee of safety. Moon had always known it was better to die fighting.
Ember came in and sat by the bowl hearth to watch Moon sort through his belongings. He didn’t say he didn’t want Moon to go, but his dispirited body language suggested it. Ember and Moon got along well but they weren’t good friends, the way Moon was with Chime, and Balm, and Blossom and some of the others. They didn’t have much experience in common, and didn’t understand each other particularly well. But Ember had been raised with lots of other consorts and he supported Moon whenever he could in the court, and obviously found Moon’s presence comforting. Ember finally said, “I hope nothing happens.”
He meant I hope you don’t all get killed.
“It’ll be all right,” Moon told him.
As a good consort, Ember pretended to be reassured by that.
After Ember left, Frost came in and plopped down on the fur beside the hearth. She was in her Arbora form, and poked a claw at the cold warming stones. Moon wasn’t up here often enough to worry about getting a mentor to renew them. She announced, “Merit and Thistle are fighting.”
Moon rolled up a shirt and tucked it into the bag. “Still or again.”
“Again,” Frost reported.
“Really fighting or just arguing?”
“Thistle shoved him. But then she said she was sorry. She wants to go instead of him.”
“Pearl is going to decide who goes.”
“Yes, but Merit’s been out of the court more often, so everyone thinks he should go. Thistle says that means it’s her turn.”
Moon considered going to Merit’s rescue, then decided to just let the Arbora sort it out. Moon disliked the idea of taking a mentor at all, but every past experience said it was too dangerous to go without one. All their other abilities aside, a mentor could scry for them and help guide their way.
Then Frost said, “I think I should go.”
Moon had been waiting for that. “I don’t think so.”