By the time Moon had circled the lake twice, the decision had evidently been made to stop for a full-scale hunt. The two boats slowed to a crawl, then dropped lines. Arbora climbed down to tie them off to tall plume trees. All the Aeriat took the opportunity to jump off the boats and fly over the lake.
Aeriat didn’t normally hunt for themselves unless they were traveling away from the colony; that was left to the Arbora hunters. Judging by everyone’s enthusiastic response, this definitely counted as traveling away from the colony. They circled above the lake, their scales in shades of blue, green, gold, brown, and copper-red. They all had retractable claws on hands and feet, long tails with a spade shape on the end, and manes of spines and frills down their backs. Moon was the only one here with black scales, the color that marked him as a consort, though he had a faint undersheen of bronze that caught the morning light.
The Arbora’s shifted forms looked much like the Aeriat, except they didn’t have wings. They climbed down from the boats on rope ladders so they could butcher the kills on the grassy shore above the lake. Normally this was a task reserved for the hunters, but Moon could see Arbora who were members of the other three castes joining in; teachers, soldiers, even a couple of young mentors, Heart and Merit, leapt enthusiastically into the job. Just another sign that the long trip and confined quarters had worn on everyone.
Another group of Arbora went after some of the grasseaters that had retreated into the trees, and the younger ones dug through the shallows for clusters of edible roots. It was just as well all the work could be done on the ground; early on in the journey, Niran, the groundling whose family owned both flying ships, had put his foot down about butchering kills on the ships’ decks. Moon could see his point; nearly all the woodwork, from planks to railings to masts, was now scored with claw marks, and would need to be sanded down eventually.
Three warriors wheeled and dove on the herd, and the hunt was on. Moon found Chime, still a novice at hunting, and made sure he managed his first kill successfully. Then Moon took a small buck for himself. Like all the Aeriat, they dragged the carcasses off into the reeds to eat immediately; the second kill would be for the colony. They met Song, a young female warrior with coppery scales, already there eating her kill. “This was a fantastic idea,” she said between bites.
After he finished eating, Moon left Chime with Song and swam out into the lake to wash the blood off his scales, then took a second kill to haul back for the Arbora. After he dragged the carcass up onto a sandbar to bleed it, he scanned the sky to see where the others were. Most of the Aeriat were finished, though Chime and a few others still circled above the lake looking for prey. The herd had all moved off now, either further down the shore or into the trees.
A flash of vivid blue made him glance up, but it wasn’t Chime coming in for another pass. Jade cupped her wings and dropped down toward the sandbar.
She was the sister queen of the Indigo Cloud Court, and like all Raksuran queens, she had no groundling form. She could shift only between her winged form and a wingless shape that looked more like an Arbora. Her scales were blue, with a silver-gray web pattern. Behind her head, the frills and spines formed an elaborate mane, reaching all the way down her back to her tail.
She landed neatly, her claws digging into the sand. Folding her wings, she picked her way through the lilies toward Moon. He shifted for her, though he was still standing in the water and it soaked his pants to the knees. His groundling skin was more sensitive and he liked to feel her scales against it.
She caught him around the waist, and he relaxed against her. Her teeth grazed his neck in affectionate greeting, and she asked, “Did you have any trouble flying?”
“No, my shoulder’s fine.” He was a little sore, but it was the welcome ache of unused muscles finally being pushed to work. He nuzzled her neck. “My back’s fine, too.”
“I’m tempted to find out for myself.” Jade’s growl had a warm tone to it. She rubbed her cheek against his. “But we can’t afford the time.”
The grassy bank was very tempting, but she was right; they had to get the ships moving again. They hadn’t had much chance to be together onboard, between the crowding and Moon recovering from his broken wing. But now that Indigo Cloud had adopted a fledgling queen and two consorts from the destroyed Sky Copper court, it wasn’t quite so urgent that Jade get a clutch immediately.
Song, Root, and Chime banked down to circle overhead, and called to them that it was time to leave.
Later that afternoon, Moon woke when a strong cool gust cut across the flat roof of the Valendera’s steering cabin. It carried the clean scent of rain, but with a bitter undertone that meant thunder and lightning, and the force of it made the wooden craft creak and rattle.
Moon pushed up on one elbow for a better taste of the air. At the moment that was harder than it sounded. He was nestled between Jade and Chime, with Song, Root, and a few other warriors curled up around them. Jade had an arm and her tail wrapped around Moon’s waist and he was warm and comfortable from the sun-warmed wood and the heat of friendly bodies. He had to wriggle to sit up enough to look out over the wooden boat’s stern. What he saw made him wince. That’s a problem.
In the distance, just above the forest’s green horizon, a dark mass of storm built, reaching out toward them with gray streaks of cloud. On their journey so far, they had gone through a few days with rain, but no high winds or lightning. It looked like their luck was over.
Jade stirred sleepily, disturbed by his movement. Sounding reluctant to wake, she murmured, “What is it?” After the indulgence of the hunt this morning, most of the court were spending the day napping. Many had fed to the point where they wouldn’t need to eat again for two or three days.
Moon squeezed Jade’s wrist. “There’s a storm to the north.”
“What?” She sat up, shouldered the others over enough that Root and another young male warrior rolled right off the cabin roof. She spotted the storm and frowned, then slapped her hand on the planks, making a loud hollow thump. “Niran! Come out here, please.”
Niran’s voice came from somewhere below. “What now?” He sounded angry, but that was normal for Niran. He was the only groundling aboard, a grandson of the Golden Islander family who had traded them the use of the two flying boats. It had been Niran’s grandfather, Delin, who had wanted to help them. Niran had distrusted the Raksura intensely, but had volunteered to stay and try to protect the valuable ships when the Fell had forced Delin and the other Islanders to flee. Forced proximity and shared danger had made Niran trust them, but it hadn’t made his personality any less prickly.
Niran came out of the cabin, a figure as short as the Arbora, but slim and with golden skin and eyes. His long straight white hair was tied back with a patterned scarf and starting to look dingy. It was hard to bathe on the boat, especially for those who couldn’t just fly down for a swim in a pond. He was dressed in a heavy robe, borrowed from one of the Arbora, and clutched a pottery mug. “What is it now?” he demanded again.
“There’s a storm coming,” Jade told him, and pointed.
Niran squinted in that direction. Groundling eyes weren’t as keen as Raksuran and he probably couldn’t see the cloud formation. “Oh for the love of the Ancestors, that’s all we need,” he muttered, turned, and stamped back inside the cabin.