The Cloud Roads (18 page)

Delin was already opening his writing box, but Niran stared, disbelieving. He repeated, “You always know where south is.”

Moon and Chime both pointed. A moment later the metal fish steadied in its bowl, seconding their opinion. Niran folded his arms, his face still skeptical. Exasperated, Moon had to ask, “Why would we lie about that?”

Delin sat down on one of the benches built into the wall, smiling mildly as he got out his writing instrument. “I’m sure a test could be arranged.”

That took up the rest of the afternoon.

Below them, the marshes gave way to plains studded with scrubby trees. The wind changed as they traveled further inland, and the sailors folded the sails up; the ships then moved with only the sustainer to power them. It was slower, but they still made good progress. Another benefit of traveling on a flying boat was that you didn’t have to stop to sleep or eat; Moon thought the steady progress of the ships would come close to making up for their slower speed.

In the early evening, Moon took Root and Song hunting, and they brought back a couple of big flightless birds, similar to vargit, for the Islanders. By the time they got back, the setting sun was turning the sky a warm gold.

Diar, on the
Dathea,
thanked them with genuine enthusiasm. “We usually live off grain porridge and dried root crops on these trips, and at home every meat other than fish is imported, costly, and not fresh.” She was older than her brother Niran, short and strongly built. She didn’t seem to share Niran’s reservations or, if she did, she hid it better.

While the crew carried their catch away, Moon remembered something he had meant to tell the younger warriors. “Don’t eat in your shifted form in front of the Islanders.” Some of the crew were openly nervous of them, some curious, and others cautious. Watching warriors eat would appall most groundlings, and it was too easy to imagine Root dragging a fresh kill up onto the ship’s deck.

Song nodded understanding, but Root had to ask, “Why not?”

“Because you’re disgusting,” Chime told him. “Even we think so.” Moon didn’t think he was exaggerating; Chime had been an Arbora for most of his life, and the mentors and teachers ate more like groundlings than Raksura.

Root bristled, then looked at Moon, and meekly lowered his spines.

Each ship had a special room below for cooking, with a fire in a heavy metal container. The Islanders cut the birds up, mixed them with root vegetables from their stores, and cooked it all in clay pots. Moon was still full from eating this morning, but it smelled so appetizing that accepting a bowl to be polite was no hardship.

Afterwards, he went up on the deck. Big lanterns were lit on the prow, but most of the ship was in shadow. Many of the Islanders on the
Valendera
had gone below to sleep or sit at the long table in the crew’s common room. The decks of the other two ships were empty except for a couple of sailors on watch. Root and Song were over on the
Dathea,
and Chime had gone up on top of the steering cabin to sleep. Moon didn’t know where Jade was until he caught a glimpse of blue and gray in the light of the bow lantern.

He took a step in that direction, then made himself turn back. He was leaving after they moved the court, and there was no point in... There was just no point.

He wandered back down the deck, to a platform where coils of rope were stacked. Sitting there, he had a good view over the railing.

The night air was like cool silk against his skin. The other two ships were half-lit shapes to either side, moving in near silence. When he flew under his own power, the terrain flashed by; at the slower pace and lower altitude of the ship it was much easier to see and oddly fascinating to watch. He caught flickers of movement in the tall grass and the trees, and hints of scent in the breeze, but he was too well fed to feel any urge to obey the reflexive impulse to hunt.

Then he heard a light step on the boards. Jade climbed onto the platform and sat near him. She wore her Arbora form, her colors soft and muted in the shadow. She curled up her tail, wrapped her arms around her knees, and said, “If you stand by the ladder, you can hear them talking below. I was listening to what they said about us.”

Moon lifted his brows. It was always a good idea to be cautious, but her expression didn’t seem urgent, so she must not have heard anyone plotting against them.

Jade continued, “They say we’re not nearly as savage as Niran led them to believe.” One corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “They think Root is cute.”

Moon twisted around to look over at the
Dathea
. The moonlight illuminated Root and Song sitting on the railing in groundling form. Root flicked at Song’s hair, apparently in an attempt to get her to shift and rip his head off. Moon considered intervening, but he figured the situation would work itself out in a moment. “Would they like to keep him?”

“I may ask.” Jade sounded amused. “They call you ‘the quiet one.’”

Moon supposed it was true. Over on the other ship, Song pushed Root off the railing. He tumbled, shifting in mid-air, and caught himself before he crashed into a tree. As he flapped back up to the ship, Moon said, “It’s hard to believe he’s related to Branch.”

“He isn’t. Though they’ve always been close. Root’s other clutch-mates were all Arbora.”She absently rubbed at the polished wooden boards, looking thoughtful. “Sometimes there’s a division, among the warriors, between those whose mothers were Arbora and those whose mothers were queens. Branch’s clutch-brother is a good example of that.” Her voice turned dry. “He’s too clever to push me, so I have no excuse to give him the beating he deserves.”

Moon turned back to look at her, frowning. If Branch wasn’t related to Root, then his name might not mean tree branch, but... He said, warily, “Branch’s clutch-brother is River? And there’s another warrior called Drift?”

Jade nodded absently. “They were one of Amber’s clutches. The other two clutch-mates were consorts, but they didn’t survive. Why do you ask?”

Moon considered not answering, but he didn’t owe River any favors. “My first day at the colony, River and Drift told me to leave.”

Jade tilted her head, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Did they.” She looked out across the dark forest. “River is one of the warriors who sleeps with Pearl.”

That... somehow isn’t a surprise,
Moon thought. It certainly explained River’s attitude.

Still sounding irritated, Jade said, “Queens and consorts always have warrior and Arbora lovers; that’s not the problem. And it isn’t as if I think she should be alone. But with Pearl’s consort dead, it’s as if River thinks he’s taken that place. He’s not a consort, and sleeping in her bower doesn’t give him a higher place in the court.”

Moon had noticed that sex among the Arbora seemed informal, and he had assumed it was that way among the Aeriat as well. When Moon was younger, he had always made it a point to try to figure out the local customs. It had taken him some time to realize that just because someone offered to have sex with you didn’t mean he or she was supposed to or that accepting wouldn’t get you killed. But every groundling settlement had different rules, and often there were different customs even within individual tribes and cities, and after a time he had just given up on it. It was something else that had made the Cordans’ camp an easy place to live; it had all been decided for him.

“The last place I lived, the elders chose who lived together. People didn’t always listen,” he added, remembering the rumor about Kavath and Selis’ cousin. “But it mostly worked out.”

Jade hesitated, her claws working absently on the wooden platform. “Stone told me he found you living in a groundling settlement.” She tilted her head, watching him directly. “Was it very hard to leave?”

“In a way.” Moon couldn’t keep the irony out of his voice; Stone obviously hadn’t told her the whole story. “One of the women I was living with saw me shift, and thought I was a Fell. She poisoned me and told the others. They took me up into the jungle and staked me out to die.” He heard her startled hiss, and finished, grimly, “They were Cordans. The Fell moved across their land, from city to city, town to town, killing and eating and moving on. They have reason to be afraid.”

She was still a moment, watching him. “You’re defending them.”

Moon bit his lip and said nothing. He couldn’t defend them, but he didn’t want to listen to anyone else condemn them, either. Until you had seen a groundling settlement ravaged by the Fell, you couldn’t understand. “If she hadn’t seen me, I’d still be living there.”

Jade shook her head a little. “But would you be happy?”

When Moon left the Indigo Cloud court, it would be so people wouldn’t ask him questions like this anymore. Being warm, dry, able to find food, shelter, in friendly or at least not openly hostile company, were the only things that had ever mattered. He said, “That was never the point.”

She was quiet for so long he thought she would leave. Moon couldn’t see the point in talking to him, either. Then he felt a gentle touch, as Jade drew her fingers through his hair.

The touch moved to the back of his neck, drifting over the vulnerable skin that Pearl had scratched. Her hand slid down his back, and he realized she was giving him time to escape. But when she pressed against his side, he leaned into her warmth.

She brushed her cheek against his. In Arbora form her softer scales had the texture of rough velvet. Every muscle in his body went tense, heat coiling through him.
You told yourself you weren’t going to do this,
he thought. Except it was hard to hold to that with Jade’s arm around his waist, her breath in his ear, her teeth gently nipping the back of his neck. And if he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t going to stop.

He jerked away from her, scrambling to his feet. He rasped out, “I can’t,” and shifted. He leapt up and away, clinging to the mast for a moment before pushing off.

He landed on the cabin roof with a loud thump. Chime, lying on the warm wood in groundling form, started and blinked at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily.

“Nothing.” Moon folded his wings and started to sit down.

Then Jade thumped down onto the planks. Badly startled, Moon went into a defensive crouch. Chime yelped and curled into a ball, arms over his head. Jade whispered rapidly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. But it’s just that you’re
here
.” She hissed in frustration and leapt into the air.

Moon eased back to sit down and shifted to groundling. Chime sat up, breathing hard, one hand pressed to his chest. He gasped, “I thought you were going to fight.”

“No. Not fight.” Moon didn’t intend to explain further.

From somewhere below, he heard Niran’s voice, demanding wearily, “What are they doing up there?”

After a time, Chime grumbled and lay back down, moving around, trying to get comfortable again. He had just settled down when Moon heard a rush through the air as someone glided over. Root landed lightly on the cabin roof and folded his wings. Sounding embarrassed, he said, “Jade threw me off the other boat. Can I stay here with you?”

“No,” Chime snapped.

“If you’re quiet,” Moon told him.

Root shifted to groundling and curled up on Chime’s other side, despite Chime’s hissing at him. Moon wasn’t sure if Jade was fed up with Root or just fed up with male Raksura in general.

His reaction to her had caught him off guard, frightened him. Self-control, making decisions and sticking to them, had always been important to his survival.

Since the moment he had met Stone, he felt like he didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t afford to be like this.

The ship was quiet, nothing moving near them except the wind, but it was a long time before Moon could relax enough to lie down and sleep.

The next day dawned cool and damp, with gray clouds obscuring the sky and ground mist winding through the trees below. Moon managed to communicate to the others, even Chime, that he preferred to be alone, and went up to sit on the railing of the prow. From there he could watch the forested valleys roll by under the ship.

The trees were tall with heavy foliage at the very top, with clumps of dark blue fruit. Big crab-like creatures with colorful shells clung to the top branches, eating the fruit. They were smaller than branch-spiders, but Moon found the resemblance close enough. They might be good to eat, though.

Absorbed in the view, he was still aware that one of the Islanders had come to sit on the deck ten paces or so behind him. He didn’t realize it was Delin until he heard the rustle of paper. He looked to see the old man sitting cross-legged, a light wooden tablet braced on his knees, sketching something with close concentration.

Moon hopped down to go look at it. He could scratch out the characters for Altanic and Kedaic in ways that were readable, but he had never been able to draw an image that even he could recognize. He crouched beside Delin, studying the sketch. It was the ship’s prow, with someone perched on it, and it took him a long moment to realize who it was. “That’s me?” He had seen his groundling form in clear water or glass or polished metal, but never from the side like this. Stone was right—he was all skin and bones.

“It is.” Delin smiled, adding a last few strokes with the charcoal stick. “I will add it to the book, and title it ‘Moon, Consort of Indigo Cloud.’”

He wanted to be in the book, but it should be the truth. “Maybe just title it ‘Moon.’”

Delin’s look was thoughtful. “You are not of the same court as the others?”

“No. I’m just... visiting.” There was no reason to say anything more, but Moon found himself admitting, “I don’t have a court.”

“I thought your people did not live alone.”

Moon shrugged. “They don’t, apparently.”

Delin nodded, taking that in. “I have read that young consorts are usually shy creatures, who do not venture far from their homes.” Moon couldn’t help a derisive snort. Delin added, with a touch of irony in his expression, “Perhaps they do not understand you.”

He was probably right, and it probably worked both ways.

After a while Delin went below, and Moon went back to the view.