Vendoin’s face was as opaque as ever, the bone plating her skin like partial armor, her expressions too different to be interpreted. She said, “I didn’t mean for any of you to be harmed. We always carry the shapeshifter poison in our ships. We thought it would work against the Raksura, but combined it with a sleep drug for the Jandera and others. For some, it did not work as intended.” Vendoin lifted a hand in a gesture like a shrug. “Most Jandera plant preparations and distillations are ineffective on Hians, so we are inexperienced at administering them.” She cocked her head, looking at Moon. “You are not as affected as the others. Perhaps you have had the shapeshifter poison before?”
Moon didn’t answer. He didn’t want Vendoin to get the idea to give him another dose. And there was no telling what the effect would be of putting the Fell poison together with another simple.
Rorra grimaced in disgust. “You killed Magrim. And others? Why? Why would you do this?”
“I didn’t kill him. One of Bemadin’s crew panicked, when she found him still awake.”
Moon hissed in disbelief. If all Hians reasoned that way, there was no talking to them. “You’re not stupid. You knew this could kill all of us, but you didn’t care.”
Vendoin seemed unmoved, at least as far as Moon could tell. There was nothing different in her voice as she said, “That is unfair. We have tried to be as careful as possible.”
“He’s right, you’re lying,” Rorra said. “You didn’t care if you killed us all. What about Avagram? He was in good health before we left. Did you poison him? You wouldn’t want a Kish arcanist suspecting you. What do you want? Why did you do this?”
As if it was obvious, as if it was what anyone would do, Vendoin said, “We thought the city held an artifact that we wanted. A powerful artifact, that Hians or Jandera could not obtain for themselves.”
Moon felt his heart sink right down to his stomach. An artifact. That couldn’t be obtained by groundlings.
“What artifact?” Rorra was baffled. “No one found an artifact. There were only writings and carvings and . . .”
Footsteps approached from down the corridor, and then another Hian stopped in the doorway. She held the object, the silver cage with a lump of dark quartz-like mineral suspended inside. The sunlight falling through the window touched it, but the crystal didn’t glint; it just absorbed the light. “Ahh, you have found it,” Vendoin told her.
Rorra stared at Moon. “But no one took it. It was in the ruined room when we left and found the waterlings.”
He said, “There was a spell on it. Briar picked it up and hid it in her pack, and didn’t remember doing it. We didn’t figure out she had it until we were back on the boat.”
Vendoin regarded them both with what Moon thought might be amused disbelief. “You truly didn’t know this was in the city? Or what it is?”
Rorra watched her warily. “No. You obviously do. Tell us.”
Vendoin touched the silver cage, her fingertips barely brushing it. “We believe Hia Iserae was one of the places where the last of the foundation builders fled. The inscriptions there are far more complete than those at any of the sites found in Jandera. They spoke of this artifact and how to find it. I and the other scholars in Hia Iserae helped Callumkal organize this expedition because of it, though he knew nothing of our reasons. But I suspected that the protections the builders had left on it would not let me take it from the city.” She told Rorra, “I tell you all this so you can explain to the others. We will leave you and the crew here on this ship, and you will be able to return to shore once the plant distillations wear off. I wish our reasons known and spread as widely as possible.”
Moon managed to say, “So why do you want it? What is it?”
“I fear it would be cruel to tell you,” Vendoin said, with no irony whatsoever.
Rorra stared at Vendoin, disbelieving. “Cruel? After what you did to Magrim?”
Moon’s throat was so dry he wasn’t sure he could talk. He knew nothing of Vendoin; everything she had shown them so far was just a mask, a performance to keep Callumkal and Kellimdar and the others happy and listening to her and cooperating with her so she could manipulate them. He said, “It’s a weapon, isn’t it? The weapon the Fell wanted. So use it. Use it now.”
Vendoin looked at the artifact and seemed regretful. “I thought I would be able to.” Moon thought, for an instant, she had reconsidered. But she continued, “The inscriptions on it tell me that there are other things I must do first.” Vendoin gestured and the Hian with the artifact turned away and moved hurriedly down the corridor. Two others stepped in and moved to gather up Callumkal. Vendoin told Rorra, “We will take Callumkal and Delin with us, as well as some of the Raksura.” She nodded to Moon. “Your mentor, Merit, of course, and it has become obvious you will make the best hostage.” She added to Rorra, “Be sure and tell everyone you encounter what we have done. Now it is time to go.”
The Hians moved forward and Moon couldn’t do anything but try to make them regret it.
Clinging to the hull of the ship only a few paces above the waterline, River thought, I should have a plan. Stupid Moon would have had a plan.
Briar had reached him just in time to collapse unconscious, her bronze skin already showing the distinctive markings of scales, the sign of Fell poison. He had thought at first that all the groundlings were betraying them, and hidden her in the shelter behind the distance-light on that side. But when he had climbed down the hull to make his way back to the cabin where the others were, he had seen the Kishan unconscious or sick. Then dozens of Hians had come down from the flying boat, and it was obvious they had poisoned everyone.
The Hians had the smaller fire weapons, and he couldn’t kill them all. There had to be a clever way out of this; he just couldn’t think of it.
He was stuck, climbing along under the windows on this side of the sunsailer, trying to hear what was happening, and waiting for an oceanling to pop up and scrape him off the hull. Then he heard Moon and the sealing, talking to Vendoin.
River took his chance and quietly climbed up to cling just below the window. If one of the Hians in their flying packs flew past this side, he was dead. He knew they would kill him. He had caught the scent of groundling blood in the air flowing out of the ship’s upper corridor; if the Hians would kill other groundlings, there was no reason for them to hesitate at killing Raksura.
He heard Moon’s weak growls and the Hians struggling to drag him out of the cabin. Then nothing.
He cautiously edged up and peered inside. Rorra was gone as well.
The Hians had left the door partly open and all River could scent right now was sick groundlings, sealing, and Moon. He shoved the window open and slung himself into the room.
He stepped quickly across it and took a careful look out into the passage. It was empty, except for Rorra, who had apparently crawled to the stairway leading up to the steering cabin and was trying to drag herself up it. She had only made it to the third stair. The Hians had taken her boots, revealing the mangled and missing fins at the end of one leg and the scarred stump on the other. River didn’t care about sealings one way or another, but that was pure cruelty. And she was the closest thing he had to an ally.
He stepped silently down the passage and touched her shoulder.
She twisted around with a strangled yell before she saw who he was. “Some warning would have been nice,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.