He let her bandage the bigger wounds, and endured questions like “is your skin supposed to be this hot?” when he had no idea if it was or not. It didn’t feel hot to him and no one else had ever seemed to think it was odd.
Then heavy steps and bumping in the corridor signaled the arrival of Kishan crew members carrying more wounded. “Are they from the flying boat?” Moon asked.
Serlam said, “I don’t know. I have to go. Try to rest, and I’ll check on you later,” collected her bag, and strode out.
Gritting his teeth, Moon levered himself up in time to see three Kish-Jandera carried past, one on a makeshift stretcher. From what he could see, their condition wasn’t good.
“He’s in here,” someone said, and Stone stepped into the cabin.
“What—” Moon grimaced as the slashes and punctures in his side stretched. “The Arbora and Delin?”
“They’re fine.” Stone sat on the bench next to Moon. “Bramble dug in under the tent, literally. There were three paces of sand on top of them. They were still digging out when I left.”
Moon sank back down onto the bench again, too relieved to comment. Whether it was fear or the Arbora talent for doing things thoroughly that had led them to dig so deep, he was glad Bramble hadn’t underestimated the Fell. “What happened at the flying boat?”
“It’s in pieces, and two Kishan were killed, Berkal and Lilan. They were running the big fire weapon that took out the kethel. Esankel was a little banged up, but the other two are in bad shape. The Fell got that smaller flying boat too, the one that was anchored on the island, but there was no one aboard it.” Frowning, Stone looked under the bandage. He tasted the air, possibly looking for scents of poison or infection. He didn’t look like he had been in battle with two kethel, except that maybe his skin was a little grayer than usual. “You need Merit?”
“No.” Moon levered himself up on his elbows again, ignoring the painful pull at his ribcage. He couldn’t talk while he was lying flat on his back. “Did you—” He took a closer look at Stone’s expression. “What?”
Stone sighed. “The Kishan caught a dakti with that projectile weapon they have. They took it off the beach in one of the small boats and are bringing it up on deck now.”
“Caught . . . It’s still alive?” Moon had trouble understanding. “What’s the point of that?”
Stone’s expression was sour. “They want to talk to it.”
Moon hissed, but he knew the Kishan scholars well enough by now to not be entirely surprised. “They realize what they’ll actually be talking to, right?” Individual dakti had feelings and apparently personalities of their own, but they acted as conduits for their rulers, and probably for their progenitors, too. Something else would be seeing and speaking through the dakti’s body.
Stone grimaced. “There’s realizing it, and there’s understanding what it means.” He threw a wary glance toward the doorway. “I wish your birthqueen were here.”
Moon suddenly found himself defensive and he had no idea why. Maybe because he had been wishing Malachite was here too, and didn’t like to hear Stone articulate that hidden thought. “Why? Even Malachite can’t kill a ruler by talking to it through a dakti.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Stone said.
Stone started to stand, and Moon held out a hand. “Help me up, I want to hear this.” Stone’s expression was not encouraging. Moon glared. “Come on, we know more about Fell than anybody here. And it’s not like the rulers didn’t see us already.”
Stone said, “Don’t think you’re fooling anybody with that ‘we’ bit. You think you know more about the Fell than anybody here,” but took Moon’s arm and hauled him to his feet.
Stone helped Moon out to the corridor. Moon scented Fell, but the door was open onto the deck and the whole island and the sea between here and the escarpment stank of Fell right now. “How did they breathe under three paces of sand?” Moon asked suddenly, remembering the Arbora’s hiding spot. “And how did they keep Delin breathing?”
“I don’t know,” Stone admitted. “Sometimes I wonder about the Arbora.”
Sometimes Moon did too. They limped out onto the deck where the wind had died and the hanging fluid-lights glowed steadily. The fire blossom in the sky had faded but distance-lights on the upper decks swept the air and the beach. Jade was out there, with Balm and Chime, still in their winged forms. Balm had long scrapes and scratches on her arms, but didn’t look wounded anywhere else. Moon was beginning to think his decision to grapple with a Fell ruler all the way down to the sunsailer was possibly not the best choice. Calumkal, Kellimdar, and Vendoin stood with half a dozen of the Kishan crew. The mast of one of the smaller boats was just visible above the railing.
Moon heard Kellimdar say, “I feel we should apologize, but we truly saw no sign the Fell were still in this area.” He sounded genuinely regretful.
Callumkal said, “They were waiting for our return, clearly. But how did they know?”
Jade said, “That’s a good question. You know they could have put one of your people, a Kish-Jandera, under their influence and set them to spy on you.”
“That should have been impossible,” Kellimdar told her. “Our arcanist, Avagram, was alert for such deceptions when we were on our way here. He died before we arrived, but there was no chance of the Fell abducting anyone and returning them while we were underway.”
“It could have happened before we left Kedmar,” Callumkal said before Jade could. “We weren’t as careful then, not suspecting the Fell might be interested in our actions.”
“Perhaps the Fell were attracted by the Raksura,” Vendoin said. There was a pause as Callumkal and even Kellimdar stared at her, startled by the suggestion. Jade’s spines started to lift.
Vendoin raised her hands. “I did not mean deliberately attracted! I meant, perhaps the Fell thought we sought out the Raksura because they knew the way into the city, and acted because of that.”
Jade, having spent a good portion of the night saving groundlings from Fell, managed to lower her spines with difficulty. “It’s possible,” she said, an edge to her tone that could have cut bone.
“Since I was the one who invited the Raksura to come here,” Callumkal pointed out, grimly, “I ask that we put this discussion off until later.”
“Perhaps after my consort’s blood is washed off the deck,” Jade added, still eyeing Vendoin.
“I meant no offense,” Vendoin said.
Moon sighed. For someone who didn’t mean any offense, Vendoin had picked the worst time to cause it.
Chime glanced back, saw them, and stepped over to Moon with a relieved wince. “Are you all right? You don’t look all right.”
“If I move around, it’ll heal faster,” Moon said. It sounded right.
Chime’s concerned expression turned exasperated. “No, not really.”
Moon didn’t want to argue so he didn’t reply. Balm threw a worried glance at them and nudged Jade’s arm. Jade looked over her shoulder, did a double-take, and glared at Moon. He glared back.
Jade wasn’t able to take any action because the winch extending off the upper deck creaked as two crew members turned the wheel at its base. It hauled something in a net up off the small boat, and Moon caught the scent of burned dakti. All the attention shifted to the rail.
The net swung over and was lowered to the deck. Wary armed Kishan surrounded it and the dakti trapped inside snarled at them. It was still in its winged form, small compared to an adult warrior. It had armored plates on its back and shoulders instead of scales, and it had a long jaw and a double row of fangs. Moon had seen dakti in their groundling form, which was not particularly prepossessing either. It moved like it was injured, but wasn’t showing any emotion except anger and what was probably a thwarted desire to eat groundlings.