The ruler turned on him with a snarl. They struck at each other, grappled, broke apart, and struck again. This ruler was considerably older and smarter than the one Moon had ripped open. He was careful not to let Moon get too close, trying to wear him down. It was a good strategy; Moon was dangerously close to being worn down.
They were also both dropping rapidly toward the waves just off the beach. The last time Moon had fallen into water with a ruler it hadn’t gone well. He ducked a swipe to the head, twisted in and grabbed the ruler. Claws tore at his side but he managed one flap to push them further out and into the right position. Then he rolled to get on top and pulled his wings in.
They fell faster, the ruler unable to catch the wind from this angle. It released its grip on Moon, frantic to get away, and Moon held on harder. Just as they started to roll, Moon let go and shot his wings out, curving them to slow his fall. The ruler slammed into the deck of the sunsailer. Moon landed on top of him a moment later and used the instant of dazed distraction to rip the ruler’s throat out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Moon straightened up out of a crouch, dripping with his own blood and the ruler’s, and saw he had an audience. The fire-blossom device pointed at the sky, illuminating the space above the sunsailer. In its reflected light, several Kish-Jandera, all holding the bulky tubes of the fire weapons, stood on the deck staring at him. They were all strangers, no one he recognized from the flying boat crew. No one shot at him, which was good.
The deck was littered with dead dakti, and Chime perched on the roof of a cabin, breathing hard from exertion. He called anxiously, “Are you all right?”
“Sure.” Moon lifted his right arm and hissed at the pain where the ruler’s claws had pierced his scales. Chime started to jump down to the deck, and Moon said, “No, stay up there. Can you see the others?”
Chime said, “Jade’s killing a ruler over by the wrecked flying boat. River and Song and Balm were fighting off a bunch of dakti toward the groundling camp, or that’s the last place I saw them. The last kethel flew away, and Stone went after it. I lost track of Root and Briar.”
Moon flicked his spines to show he had heard. He turned, trying to look up without using any muscles on the right side of his body. He couldn’t see much from this position, the glare of the light obscuring what moved in the darkness beyond it. Then a door behind him banged open and Kalam stepped out. One of the others called a warning to him but he ignored it and ran up to Moon. He said breathlessly, “Rorra’s on the upper deck. She saw you come down and said you were hurt.”
“No, well yes, but—” Ignoring Moon, Kalam pushed a folded cloth against the worst wound, pressing hard to stop the bleeding. Moon admitted, “All right, that’s actually a good idea. But if I tell you to run—”
“I will,” Kalam promised.
“I can’t see any more rulers or dakti in the air,” Chime reported from the cabin roof. “They might—Oh, Jade’s coming!”
Moon swayed, partly with relief. Careful to sheathe his claws, he put a hand on Kalam’s shoulder to steady himself. One of the Janderan stepped closer and said, “Kalam, you should back away—”
Kalam said, “Tell the physician to get down here. There must be other wounded out there, and on the airship.”
The Janderan hesitated, but then turned back to give the order. Jade banked overhead and spiraled down, the light glinting off her blue scales. Moon was starting to realize how lucky he was the Kishan hadn’t shot a fire weapon at him. They would have seen two nearly identical dark figures hurtling toward them.
Jade landed on the deck. She took in the dripping blood and the dead ruler. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Moon said. “Did you see Root and Briar?”
“They’re on the beach with Stone.” She leaned in to look and Kalam moved the pad so she could see the wound. She grimaced. “How many were aboard your flying boat? Do you know?”
Kalam answered, “There were five aboard. Is it destroyed?” He looked up at Jade, wincing in anticipation of the answer.
She shook her head. “It’s on the ground, but I didn’t get much of a look at it.”
Chime reported, “I see Balm coming this way.”
The cabin door banged open again, and Callumkal came out, followed by another Janderan. As they drew closer, Moon saw she was the healer, Serlam. Callumkal said, “On the beach—Were there survivors? We were lucky that most of the crew decided to sleep here tonight but there were five left on duty aboard—”
“Stone is there now and I’m about to go join him,” Jade said. “Tell your people not to shoot anything in that direction. The Fell are gone and Stone may have to lift the upper portion of the flying boat to look under it. If we find anyone, we’ll bring them here. Will you help Moon?”
“Yes, of course.” Callumkal hesitated, frowning, but apparently was only trying to consider the logistics of helping a person with spines on his back. “Can he change?”
Kalam peeked under the pad again. “He’s still bleeding, but not as badly.”
Jade’s gaze was worried, but Moon didn’t want to delay her. He said, “Kalam, step back.” He didn’t want to fall on him.
Kalam moved away, and Moon shifted. And then things got vague and dim, and his knees started to fold. Callumkal caught him and held him up, and Moon managed to at least look like he was still alert and conscious. “Go on,” he told Jade.
She stepped back, then took a running leap off the deck. Callumkal and Kalam guided Moon through the doorway and then down a wide corridor. Unlike the flying boat, the deck was wood and the walls a dull copper metal. The liquid light bubbles were built into the ceiling and nested in patches of moss.
They half-carried Moon into a cabin with wide padded benches built against the walls, and a braided grass rug on the deck. Callumkal lowered Moon down to the nearest bench. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
Gripping the bench, Moon managed a nod. Callumkal took him at his word and left, hopefully to go back out on deck. Moon wanted him out there, keeping any of the nervous Kishan from overreacting and shooting a Raksura. Kalam reappeared, urging Moon to lie down, and stuffing a cushion under his head when he did. Moon pulled up his blood-soaked shirt to see the wound. Kalam made a noise of dismay.
“It looks worse than it is,” Moon tried to croak. He wasn’t in danger; it was just going to be painful until his body could heal it.
Serlam pulled Kalam away and sat down on the bench next to Moon. He hadn’t spoken much to her aboard the flying boat. She was one of the Janderan who had kept her distance. She said, “I don’t suppose you’re going to bite me.”
“Not unless you ask nicely,” Moon told her.
She blinked, then made a huffing noise he assumed was a laugh, and opened her satchel. “I’ve never treated one of you before. Can you tell me what I should do?”
“Just clean it.” She took a wad of folded cloth out of her satchel that smelled astringent. Moon set his jaw and didn’t flinch when she wiped away the blood. Her touch wasn’t rough, but she wasn’t as deft as Merit.
She finished cleaning the wounds, her expression still uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t sew this up?”
Moon was pretty damn sure. “It’s not bleeding anymore because underlayers of skin have already started closing up. It’ll be fine if I don’t rip it open again.” It wasn’t the explanation Merit would have given; Moon had made up the word underlayers himself to describe what he had noted about the way his deeper cuts and slashes healed.
She leaned close, frowning. “Hmm. All right, but I’m going to strap it, just to make sure.”