An Arbora in her soft-skinned form sat on the deck behind Malachite. That should be the half-Fell mentor, though she looked like an ordinary Raksura to Niran. She was smaller than the others, her skin a dark red-brown, and her dark hair cut short and standing out in a halo around her face. She was dressed in simple clothes like a wind-sailor would wear, a longer tunic with a light shirt over it and pants cut off at the knee. She wouldn’t have gotten more than a second look at any Yellow Sea port; there was nothing to show she was Raksura, much less part Fell.
With an impenetrable calm born of much experience exploring the Three Worlds, Diar said, “Malachite, reigning queen of Opal Night, this is my brother Niran.”
Speaking in Altanic, Malachite said, “We want to travel with you. You have no objection?”
Adjusting to months of living alone with Raksura while Indigo Cloud had returned to its ancestral home in the Reaches had been difficult; this was nothing. And considering the evidence of Fell attack that the Kishan had reported, and Delin’s own worries about what might be inside the sea-mount city, it would be madness to refuse a Raksuran escort. No matter how harrowing the queen was. Niran said, “None at all.”
The next day, it was made plain to everyone just how useful it was to have Raksura aboard.
It was midafternoon and Niran was out on deck with Diar, consulting over the map. “There’s no way we’ll catch them in flight,” Diar said. “We’re faster, but we have no idea if they’re going through the archipelago or straight across.”
It was frustrating that the Kish hadn’t marked any route on the map the Raksura had managed to obtain. “Or if they’re planning to stop on the way,” Niran agreed. “I just hope grandfather hasn’t managed to get himself killed in the meantime.”
“You should have more confidence in him.” Diar jerked her head toward the stern, where the Raksura had settled in, the warriors draping themselves all over the deck and the cabin roof. Malachite was nowhere to be seen, but then Niran hadn’t seen her all day. She seemed able to vanish at will. Diar continued, “He has friends with him now, at least.”
Niran wasn’t sure that was any better, since the Raksura just gave grandfather more mobility and opportunities to find something that might kill him. He was about to say so when the consort Shade wandered up and asked, “When will we get to the sea?”
At first, Niran had had no idea what to say to someone who was half-Fell. But Shade had proved unexpectedly easy to speak to, mostly because he wasn’t hesitant to ask questions. “This is much faster than Delin’s wind-ship,” Shade had said on the first day, while leaning precariously far out over the rail. The Aeriat Raksura’s complete lack of concern for heights was one thing Niran had never gotten used to. “But it’s so much bigger.”
“This ship has a more powerful sustainer,” Niran had told him. The Koltera was the largest wind-ship the family owned, and meant for exploration rather than trade. Her cargo space was given over to water containers and food supplies, and she was meant to travel long distances without needing to stop. “Most of our wind-ships only need one or two chips of flying island heart to support them on the lines of force. This one has seven.”
This had turned into an explanation of how exactly the sustainer worked and how the size of the rock chips dictated the configuration of the wind-ship and how the Koltera was this length in order to balance the force contained in each, and then a tour of the ship’s steering cabin. Lithe, the mentor, had followed along, shy but interested in everything as well.
“Perhaps by morning,” Diar said to Shade now, turning the map so he could see it. “I think we’re—”
The lookout called a warning an instant before three shapes dropped out of the sky and landed on the ship’s rail.
Diar drew in a startled breath. Niran stared, astonished both at the temerity and the stupidity. The creatures had rounded bodies and broad, nearly translucent wings. Their arms and legs were long and stick-like, and whatever features were on their round heads were buried in a multi-layered, brightly-colored shell. It was like being confronted by something with a flower for a head. An instant later Niran realized they wore tool belts fastened to their bodies, with various grass-woven pouches suspended from them.
Diar demanded, “What do you want?”
The largest one spoke in rough Altanic, “You’re in our air. We demand payment.”
Niran snorted in annoyance. “We don’t pay tribute.”
The nearest female warrior, a large muscular person called Saffron, was suddenly between Shade and the interlopers. She snarled, “You’re on the wrong boat.”
The lead flower-head hesitated, perhaps taking in the fact that there were six Raksura sunning themselves nearby on the deck, now awake and watching with the intense focused interest of predators. One of the other flower-heads fell backward off the railing.
Shade turned toward them, shifted, and half-lifted his wings. He said, in his deeper raspy voice, “Don’t make me wake my mother.”
The last two flower-heads finally seemed to realize they had made a terrible mistake. They dropped off the railing and flew away, fleeing rapidly back toward the hills just visible past a stand of tall plane trees.
A male warrior strolled up, baring his fangs so he could pick his teeth with a twig. “Should we chase them?”
“No.” Shade rippled and changed back into his smaller self. “Just watch to make sure they don’t follow us.” He turned back to Diar and the map. “Were we going through these islands? Or straight across this way?”
Niran exchanged a look with Diar. Possibly it was madness to associate with Raksura; Niran had thought so once and there were undoubtedly those who thought so now. But then everyone aboard was related to Delin, so madness ran in the family. Turning her attention back to Shade, Diar said, “Yes, we take the direct route.”
Over the next few days, Moon couldn’t tell if talking to Balm had helped or not. He had the feeling that it hadn’t, that it had just made the warriors more careful how they behaved when he could see them.
They were out on deck, watching the sea as the sun set. The wind was down and the gentle swells were full of tiny sparks of blue light, either plant or animal or both. It was fascinating, and all the Raksura, Delin, and most of the crew had found a spot to watch it. Moon was on top of the steering cabin with Jade, Balm, Chime, and Briar, taking advantage of the heat that the soft material was radiating. They were all in groundling form, and Jade in her Arbora form, to enjoy it better. Lying on his side with Jade’s arm around his waist, watching the flickering water, Moon wished they could have taken this trip for no other reason than just to see things like this. Then Chime said, “There’s something out there.”
Jade sat up and Moon rolled over to face Chime. He crouched on the edge of the cabin, staring toward the south. Chime pointed. “See the outline in the water?”
There were murmurs of assent from the others as they twisted around to look. A black shape was outlined against the blue flickers of light that rode the constant movement of the water. It was still some distance away. Jade said, “An island?”
Chime shook his head. “It’s drifting.”
Balm said slowly, “It’s not . . . Merit said a hive, didn’t he? Floating on the water?”
Moon tasted the air deeply. It occurred to him suddenly that a hive floating on the water might actually be a giant Fell sac, used like a portable island. But there was no Fell stench in the wind.
Jade shifted to her winged form. “That’s what he said. Briar, go tell Stone, ask him if he can see it any better than we can.”
Moon rolled back over and hung down to look into the steering cabin’s window. It was softly lit, and he could see Magrim holding the steering lever. He had been judged recovered enough to be allowed back on duty a few days ago. Moon tapped on the crystal. Magrim glanced over, startled, then stepped to the window to open the catch. “What is it?”