Moon was prepared to wave and look innocent if Kalam glanced back and saw them, but Kalam headed for the outer dock, slipping past the other parties of groundlings. There were five structures partially above the water, and at least two further out that sat lower, their roofs just below the waves. The largest had heavy clear crystals set into windows along the sides, and two entrances, where stone steps led down into wells in the sides of the building. It also looked the most crowded, as both entrances were temporarily blocked, one by groundlings trying to carry large pottery jars down into the structure, the other by a Coastal who had a twisted leg joint and was being helped up the stairs by a companion.
The other groundlings on that part of the dock just milled around, waiting for the entrances to clear, but Kalam hesitated, then started for the smaller structures further down. “No,” Moon muttered, “he’s going to the wrong one.”
“What?” Stone squinted against the salt spray in the air.
“That’s the trading station.” Moon jerked his chin toward the large structure. “The one those groundlings are waiting to get into. I don’t know what those are.”
Those blocky structures were smaller, further underwater, and didn’t have any sky-lights. A few groundlings were going down into their stairwells, or making their way toward them along the dock. Moon’s instincts for navigating groundling cities had all been gained the hard way, and they told him that while the trading station looked like a relatively safe prospect, those places didn’t.
“Huh,” Stone commented, and strolled after Kalam.
Kalam picked the first structure he came to and started down the steps into the entrance well, which again didn’t bode well for the theory that he had been unconsciously compelled to meet a Fell ruler and wasn’t just exploring a strange city. Moon was half-inclined to give up on Kalam and just go to the trading station where they were more likely to hear news of the sel-Selatra. But Stone was already following Kalam down the stairs, so Moon suppressed an annoyed hiss and went after him.
It was dark inside after the bright morning sun, but Moon’s eyes adjusted quickly. It was a big oblong room, the walls light-colored, and there were long crystal windows, all below the surface so the light was dim and constantly changing as the waves crashed over the roof above. The artificial light came from glass lamps, placed on small shelves randomly studding the walls. Moon couldn’t tell what was inside the lamps, if it was magical illumination or just a glowing mineral or plant material, but the light was white and not strong. The air was intensely damp and the place was also bigger than it looked on the outside. This was only the first level, and Moon spotted Kalam’s head going down the circular stairwell in the middle of the floor.
There were only a few groundlings here, standing in groups and talking, and no one who looked like a sealing of any kind. A Coastal with patchy scales was selling cups of various caustic-scented liquids from a set of pottery urns in the far corner of the room, and that was the only activity taking place. Stone barely bothered to glance around and followed Kalam.
The stairs curved down into a bigger lower level, where the dim white light was even more murky and the view through the windows was darker, except for the occasional silver flicker of a fish, or little blue shellfish clinging to the crystal. There were more groundlings here, standing and talking or sitting on cushions on the floor. And finally there were sealings.
There were a dozen round pools cut into the floor that must have some passage outside, because the water scent was fresh and salty. The sealings swam or lounged on the edges of the pools, speaking to the groundlings gathered around. These were shallow-water sealings, able to breathe both above and below the surface. They had green scaled skin and long, dark green hair that looked like heavy lengths of water weed. Their hands and feet were heavily webbed and they had long prominent claws, and filmy fins along their arms and legs. Most were wearing jewelry, unpolished lumps of pearl and jasper in nets of braided cord. “Finally,” Stone muttered, and wandered into the crowd, headed for the pools.
There were Coastals selling various things, mostly more caustic drinks and little glass cups that emitted vapor and were meant to be held under the nose. It competed with the more attractive scents of the water and the sealings themselves.
Moon looked for Kalam and spotted him partway across the room. Most of the crowd was dressed in lighter fabrics, and Kalam’s reddish brown skin and dark hair stood out among all the grays and greens. He was trying to circle around a group to get closer to the pools, but suddenly the group circled him.
It had occurred to Moon that if Kalam had been compelled by the Fell, the rulers might have sent another infected groundling into the port to talk to him. He moved closer, trying to see what was happening. One of the groundlings, a tall gray male with a long head and limbs that made him look as if he might be related to the Aventerans, stooped over Kalam.
But as Moon stepped closer, Kalam tried to back away. Kalam, clearly uncomfortable, said in careful Altanic, “I’m just here to look around. I’m not interested in company.”
Moon hissed under his breath, annoyed. Kalam had picked the wrong place, all right; this structure must be mainly for getting intoxicated and meeting people to have sex with. Moon pushed forward and elbowed aside the groundling blocking Kalam’s retreat. He said, “He said he’s not interested.”
The group edged back a little. The one Moon had elbowed fell back against the wall clutching his middle. Moon had gotten used to elbowing warriors and had lost the habit for being more careful with groundlings. The maybe-Aventeran jerked back a little, startled. In badly slurred Altanic, he demanded, “Who are you?”
Moon showed his teeth in an expression that was not a smile. “I’m a friend of his father’s.”
The maybe-Aventeran’s companions and the other groundlings who had been gathering to see the fight immediately started to back away.
“How should I know that?” the maybe-Aventeran demanded again, hesitated in confusion as his support retreated, then hurriedly followed them across the room.
“Thank you.” Kalam turned to Moon, a little breathlessly. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Why are you here?” Moon hoped Kalam wouldn’t ask why Moon was here.
Kalam, being young and flustered, didn’t think to question Moon’s sudden appearance. “I wanted to see the trading station. My father gave me permission. The people at the supply factor said it was safe.”
Moon drew on the ability he had cultivated while raising fledglings to be patient in the face of the most willfully ignorant behavior. “Yes, but this isn’t the trading station.”
“I know, but it was crowded, and I thought this would be quicker. I’m not supposed to be gone too long.”
Kids, Moon thought, exasperated. Kalam was probably old enough to be let out alone in a Kishan academic enclave, but maybe not old enough to wander a busy port city. “The next time you tell your father you’re going to the trading station, you go to the trading station. You have to be careful in strange places.”
“I know.” Kalam’s expression was a convincing combination of embarrassed and miserable. “I will.”
Moon said, “Just stay with us.” He looked for Stone and saw him sitting by a pool toward the center of the room, with a couple of other groundlings and a Coastal. A sealing floated in the pool, speaking to the Coastal.
Moon made his way through the sparse crowd, aware Kalam was sticking obediently close. He sat next to Stone as the Coastal and the other groundlings left. Kalam took a seat on the opposite side of the pool.