At least Vendoin might have a better grasp on how dangerous the Fell were than the other Kish. “A warrior escaped with me and a few Arbora children. They were all killed later, and I was alone, until Stone found me and brought me to Indigo Cloud.”
The rough patches on Vendoin’s face moved. It might be inquiry, puzzlement, or even concern. Moon couldn’t tell. Vendoin said, “But that was the vital time of your development, was it not? From before adolescence to adulthood?”
Moon felt compelled to point out, “It wasn’t by choice.”
“Of course. But did it not make everything . . . very difficult?”
“It did,” Moon admitted. So Vendoin didn’t think he had spent the entire time huddled alone in a forest somewhere, he added, “I traveled, lived in different groundling cities and settlements.”
Vendoin cocked her head, maybe as a gesture of understanding, or maybe of curiosity, it was hard to tell. “As a Raksura?”
“As a groundling. It was in the east, where they’re more afraid of Fell, so I couldn’t show anyone what I was.”
“I see.” Moon wasn’t sure she did, but he wasn’t going to argue. And he thought all her questions gave him an opening to ask some in return. “Have you worked with Callumkal for a long time?”
“Oh, not so long.” Vendoin didn’t appear to mind the question. “My people are called the Hians, and I am a visitor from the Hia Iserae, which is to the north along the Imperial Edge, near the basin of Samin-rel. I was with the archives there, and studied in particular the foundation builders. During the season of spring rain, Callumkal invited me to come to Kedmar and work with him on the map.”
“So you don’t know what the foundation builders looked like?” Moon was wondering if their ruins were just less well-preserved forerunner remains.
“We don’t even know if they were one species, or a collective.” Vendoin sighed. “But they left very little behind, whoever they were. We have fragments of carvings and images and one method of writing that seems to be mainly poetry, and which we are not sure we have deciphered correctly. We have a great deal of speculation, and legends that may be handed down from some dim past, or that may have been constructed by later generations to explain things they did not understand.”
“So do you think the sea-mount city is foundation builder or forerunner?”
“There is great debate over that, such great debate, one would call it arguing and shouting.” Vendoin sounded weary. “The map is on the stones of the foundation builders for a reason. That is all I will admit to.” She made a dismissive gesture. “Others construct what I can only think are fanciful stories about it.”
Moon said, “Does Callumkal think the city was made by the foundation builders?”
“No, he inclines to the theory that it was the forerunners, but I’m not sure he thought so before he encountered Delin’s work.” Vendoin hesitated. “The two others with you, the Arbora. Delin says they are the same species as Raksura, as odd as it seems, and that you come from the same family groups.”
“That’s right.” The Arbora had been a different species once, but had joined with the Aeriat at some point in a past so distant that no record of why it had happened had survived. And Moon didn’t know how the family groups of Vendoin’s species worked, but Raksuran court bloodlines were a complicated tangle. Since Merit was a mentor he was probably closely related to a consort. Considering Merit’s age, it might have been Rain, Pearl’s consort, or Dust or Burn, who had been sent away to other courts when Rain died. Moon didn’t know about Bramble. “The Arbora used to be a separate species, a long time ago. Then something happened and . . .” Moon made a vague gesture he wasn’t sure was very helpful. “It’s in Delin’s book.”
Vendoin politely pretended that what Moon had said made sense. “Is it true that the Fell and the Raksura come from the forerunners? That is also in Delin’s book.”
Moon felt himself go still. He found it very hard to read Vendoin. Some groundlings were better at communicating with different species than others, and he wasn’t sure if Vendoin wasn’t one of them, or if Moon just wasn’t interpreting her body language correctly. He said, “Yes.”
Vendoin’s head tilted as she studied him. “So. I think it may be inferred. From the physical resemblance.”
Moon made himself shrug, though he wasn’t sure how Vendoin would interpret the gesture. “It’s not something we know anything about. There aren’t any stories from that time.”
Vendoin was quiet a long moment, then said, “I see. Perhaps if this city is forerunner, and we can discover its secrets, it will shed some light on this myth.”
Moon leaned on the railing and looked into the distance. Light was the last thing the “myth” needed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
For the first handful of days on the flying boat they were still traveling over the forests and meadows that bordered this fringe of the Reaches, and there wasn’t much new to see. Moon spent most of his time leaning over the railing watching the ground, or watching the crew cut back the plants that occasionally sprouted in the boat’s moss, or talking with Jade and Chime and the others, or watching Delin sketch, or trying not to be irritated by bored warriors. Napping on the sun-warmed deck quickly became a favorite pastime.
There was no good safe place for basking anywhere on or near the colony tree, and Moon had missed it. The cabin roofs and the ridge up the flying boat’s center were particularly good spots, as the mossy material seemed even warmer up there. Callumkal had explained that it was part of the process that kept the boat aloft on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds. It had to do with the moss and the way plants in general took in the sun to feed themselves and make themselves grow, and Moon hadn’t understood the explanation past that point, but it amounted to the fact that the moss produced excess heat which had to be released along the upper parts of the boat.
It made the deck pleasant for sleeping even in the evening, though Jade decided it was safer to keep to the cabin after full dark. Moon agreed, not liking the feeling of being exposed in the night, with the low deck lights to draw attention. The flying boat had what were called in Altanic “distance-lights.” They were big moss-lights that used reflective surfaces to direct the light for long distances. Rorra explained that they used them at night only to make sure they weren’t about to hit something, it not being a good idea to direct them toward the ground and antagonize anything they might be passing over.
Bramble kept trying to make friends with the Kishan, with little success. Merit made an augury every day, but got nothing besides some visions of an empty calm sea. He explained, “I think we’re just too far away from whatever it is, yet. Maybe when we get closer.”
Finally, Jade decided they needed to hunt. The Kishan were sharing their own supplies, but they weren’t big meat eaters. Raksura could last quite a while on fruit and grains and roots, but it was making the warriors cranky. Cranky warriors made queens and Arbora annoyed and made consorts, especially line-grandfathers, homicidal, at least in Moon’s experience.
Callumkal told them they could bring their kills up onto the deck at the flying boat’s stern, so Jade and Moon took the warriors hunting, and after a while managed to flush out a large variety of bando-hoppers. Moon had been taking short flights with the others every day just for exercise, but it was a relief to really stretch his wings and hunt.
It was twilight by the time they finished eating. Despite Callumkal giving permission, the crew was clearly disturbed by it. They avoided the area, except to gather in small groups at the windows, peer out quickly, and withdraw in horror. It was getting on Moon’s nerves, and everybody else’s.