CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Moon tried to stand, but he was lying on River and there was no place to put his weight without hurting him. Then a male warrior caught him around the chest, lifted him up, and helped him to his feet.
Moon stumbled toward Malachite. “We need mentors. The Hians gave us all Fell poison, and a sleeping simple for the groundlings, it killed Song, they took Merit and Bramble away on a flying boat—They have a weapon from the city—”
Malachite lifted a hand and two warriors bounced into the air, flapping up to catch the wind. Moon thought they were going after the Fell, which was suicidal. Then Malachite said, “I’ve sent them for Lithe. The wind-ship isn’t far away. Which way did the flying boat go?”
Moon pointed. Malachite selected two warriors with a flick of her tail and said, “Locate it.”
They took to the air, but Moon knew it wouldn’t help. The flying boat was already out of sight, it would have changed direction as soon as it was away from the Fell. Warriors couldn’t possibly fly fast enough to find it. “They won’t catch it, you have to go after it!”
“If I leave, the Fell will return within moments,” Malachite said. Her tail flicked again. He had never been able to read her expression, even after spending time at Opal Night. It would have been easy to say she was unconcerned, unaffected, except for the fact that here she was, having travelled from across the Reaches and the coast and the sea and halfway into the ocean to be here when he needed her.
The warrior who had helped Moon had been leaning over River, trying to find breath or pulse. Now he reported, “He’s alive.”
Malachite reached to touch Moon’s face, and he stepped back. A female warrior caught his arm and steadied him, and he dimly realized it was Rise, Malachite’s chief warrior.
Malachite said, “Are there still Fell aboard, or Hians?” Six more warriors dropped down to land on the flying boat’s upper decks.
Moon started to say no, then realized he had no idea. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s any Fell, but I don’t know if all the Hians were able to leave. The Hians—They’re silver gray, with patches like rock on their heads and skin.” He remembered something else she needed to know. “The Fell were part Raksura. They had a queen.”
Malachite took this information in with opaque calm, and stared off into the distance, the direction the Fell had fled. She said, “Search this craft.”
Warriors on the upper decks scattered to climb down and enter the hatchways and open windows.
Rorra stepped out of the nearest hatchway, slowly, wary at all the strange Raksura. She saw Moon and the relief on her face was obvious as she limped toward him. She still looked sick and exhausted, but had one of the smaller fire weapons slung across her back. “Is River—” She saw him lying on the deck, the warrior crouched beside him.
“He’s alive,” Moon told her. He pointed to Malachite. “This is my mother.”
Rorra stared at Malachite. “Oh.” She turned back to Moon. “Are the Fell coming back? I can get to the larger weapon stand now—”
Malachite said, “The Fell won’t come back while I’m here.”
Rorra hesitated, eyed Malachite, then said, “That’s good, then.”
A dark shape that might have been the model for the forerunner depicted on the foundation builder city’s tiles dropped to the deck suddenly, and Rorra flinched. It carried a small Arbora still in her groundling form.
It was Shade and Lithe. Moon thought he was clearly hallucinating all this, but if he was, he didn’t think everything would hurt quite so much. Shade set Lithe on her feet, shifted to his groundling form, and flung himself at Moon. He caught Moon in a hard embrace, buried his face in Moon’s neck, and said, “Are you hurt? You look terrible.”
Moving toward River, Lithe demanded, “Is that your blood or his?”
“His, he needs help. The others are inside, unconscious from Fell poison,” Moon told her, gripping Shade’s shoulders to steady himself. Shade smelled of clean Raksura and salt wind and something indefinable that was somehow clearly the court of Opal Night, or maybe their shared bloodline. If Moon had been able to feel relief, he would have felt it then. Lithe knelt beside River, motioning a warrior to help her roll him over so she could get at his wounds.
A shadow fell on the deck and Moon twitched and looked up. But it was a wind-ship, coming around above the sunsailer’s bow.
This one was easily twice the size of the sunsailer, the hull long and slim, made of what looked like lacquered wood but was a plant fiber, much stronger. The fanfolded sails on the two central masts were closing as it came about above them.
Then things started to happen very fast and in a dream-like fashion that Moon found vague and unpleasant.
Golden Islanders in climbing harnesses dropped from the railing of the wind-ship and Moon had a confused memory of trying to explain to Niran about the object Vendoin had said was a weapon and what had happened to Delin and about Rorra’s distinctive scent while simultaneously introducing her to all his relatives. Lithe had River carried inside and went to help the other Raksura.
In the common room, Moon insisted on showing Malachite what had happened to Song. Malachite had hissed in regret, and made Moon let Rise gather Song up and carry her away. Moon had followed her, aware the Golden Islanders moved through the ship with the warriors, trying to help the Kishan crew. At some point Shade cupped Moon’s face and said clearly, “Moon, you need to lie down.”
Moon ended up back in the common room with Jade and the others. They were all still unconscious, and even with Lithe tending them, Moon didn’t feel easy until he had checked to make sure each was still breathing. With the help of a couple of warriors and Shade, Lithe had moved everyone except Stone to pallets on the floor. Stone had been left stretched out on the bench, with a couple of cushions tucked around him. “I don’t have any experience with line-grandfathers,” Lithe said, “but I feel like it’s not a good idea to move him.”
Briar had been found and brought in to recover with the others, and River had had his wounds cleaned and been put into a healing sleep in a nest of cushions and blankets. Shade made Moon sit down on a cushion near Stone, while Lithe tried to get him to drink a cup of something. He said, “Is that a simple?”
“No, it’s just tea. More simples are the last thing you need,” Lithe assured him.
Moon took the cup. When he drank it he realized how abraded his throat was. No wonder he sounded so hoarse. It was suddenly a little easier to think, and he asked, “How are the Kishan?”
Lithe’s expression told him it wasn’t good news. She got to her feet and said, “Ivar-edel, the Golden Isles healer, said that so far she’s found four dead, and some of the others seem very badly off. I’m going to go help her now.”
As she went out the door, Moon tried to get up and follow her. He had no idea why, or where he thought he was going. Shade caught his arm and urged him to sit again. Moon said, “Where’s Song?”
Shade winced. “They took her to an empty cabin, where they’re putting the others who died.”
Moon sank back down on the cushion. “Right.” He closed his eyes and his head swam. “How did you find us?”
“We went to Indigo Cloud, and then we caught up with Diar and Niran. We followed the map out here, then we caught Fell stench. It was from the ocean, so we knew the Fell had to be looking for groundlings or Raksura.”
Moon managed to get his eyes open again. He didn’t want to sleep yet. “You wanted to come? Malachite didn’t make you?” He was too groggy to put it into the right words, but if any consort should want to stay far away from the Fell, buried in the safety of a powerful court, it was Shade.