Edge of Worlds (The Books of the Raksura) Page 10

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Moon leaned forward and nipped Chime on the ear. He didn’t want to leave the clutch. But maybe what he really wanted was for this nightmare not to have happened, and for everything to go on as it had before. And that just wasn’t possible.

  Chime nipped Moon on the neck in return, still an intense sensation on groundling skin, no matter how many times Moon had felt it. Moon pulled him close and Chime slid a hand around his hip.

  At that point a breathless Song whipped in through the library door. She saw them wound together and skidded to a halt, her claws scraping the floor. “Sorry, sorry!”

  “What?” Chime demanded. “Can it wait?”

  “No, there’s been an augury,” she gasped. “You two need to come hear it.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Moon and Chime followed Song to one of the workrooms in the lower levels, which the mentors used for making simples and storing materials. The scents of various herbs grew more intense the closer they got to the room, so it was almost overwhelming when Moon stepped inside.

  It was a big round chamber and the bent sapling wood rack arching overhead held herbs stored in bundles and bags. Pots and jars holding more ingredients sat on the floor. The combination of scents was fascinating, but Moon didn’t know how the mentors could stand working in here for long periods without going scent-blind.

  There was a large sap-sealed jar in the corner that Moon knew contained the eastern plant that was called three-leafed purple bow. It was used for Fell poison, which was prepared by boiling down the plant over and over again into an odorless simple that tasted of nothing but grass or waterweeds and could be easily concealed in food or water. It affected both Fell and Raksura, preventing you from shifting and making you unconscious or too sick to move. Some Fell it killed outright. Moon had discovered it the hard way, by having some groundlings use it on him when they thought he was a Fell ruler.

  Since encountering a Fell flight moving through the west on the far side of the Reaches, the mentors had taken the precaution of trying to grow the plant here. They hadn’t been successful until two rain seasons ago. Moon had thought it was a good idea at the time; considering the shared dream, he thought it was an even better one.

  Jade was already there, with Stone and Balm. They were sitting on the floor with Heart, Merit, and Thistle.

  Heart’s version of the map lay nearby, with ink cakes and pens beside it. Jade looked up as Moon and Chime came in, and said, “We’re waiting for Pearl.”

  Moon nodded and sat on his heels to look at the map; he couldn’t see any difference from Chime’s version, except in the handwriting. Chime knelt to examine it more closely, and asked, “Who’s going to make the copies?”

  “Rill and Merry said they’d do it,” Heart said. Moon glanced up at something in her tone and saw her expression was set, her jaw a hard line. Merit seemed edgy and Thistle bristled with fury. Jade and Balm watched them worriedly. Moon found himself meeting Stone’s gaze, which was ironic and exasperated. Right, Moon thought. He was getting the impression that this augury had not gone well.

  Pearl swept in with Floret behind her. She settled on the floor, curling her tail around her feet, and gestured impatiently to Heart. “Tell us.”

  “It was a very strong vision,” Heart said. She glanced at Merit and Thistle. “All three of us shared it, and we agree it was clearly an augury and not a dream, like the way it happened before. We’ve asked the other mentors and they all shared it to a certain extent. Even Copper, who is too young to have gotten any serious training in augury yet.” She turned to Chime. “Did you feel anything odd, or see or hear anything?”

  Chime’s expression was frustrated. “No, and I was down in the library, concentrating on the map before Moon came in. There was no way I could have missed it.”

  Pearl’s tail twitched in impatience. “Well, what was it?”

  Heart spread her hands. “It doesn’t make any sense . . .”

  “Neither did the shared nightmare,” Jade encouraged her. “Go on.”

  Heart’s expression was tight and tense. “We saw white water. Solid white water. Chunks of it floating in a cold sea. A city of stone floating almost in the clouds, surrounded by mist, but we couldn’t tell if it was groundling or skyling or something else. We saw something waiting there, something powerful. Then the cold sea again and another city of metal, moving with the waves.” She hesitated, biting her lip, and Thistle stirred uneasily. Merit now had his gaze locked on the floor. Heart said slowly, “Merit didn’t think I should tell you the rest.”

  Merit winced. Pearl’s irritated attention was transferred to him, and she said, “Why not?”

  Heart watched Merit, brows lifted. After a moment, Merit looked up and said, “I don’t think that part of it was a real vision.”

  Thistle pressed her lips together. “He thinks I imposed it on the augury, and that it means I caused the shared dream.”

  Merit glanced at her, exasperated. “Not intentionally!”

  “Why me?” Thistle demanded, obviously angry and offended. Moon didn’t get it either. He had mostly seen Thistle’s skills demonstrated more in healing than visions, but he couldn’t see why Merit suddenly thought she was bad at augury.

  As if it was obvious, Merit said, “Because it didn’t come from Heart and it wasn’t me—”

  Chime’s expression said he was not particularly thrilled with any of them. “You should have figured this out before you called the queens in here, and not interrupted the interpretation with it. And you should be able to tell if anyone imposed it on an augury, it would be markedly different from a shared dream—”

  Heart bared her teeth at him. “I know that, Chime, and I’m saying we couldn’t tell—”

  “Then it must have been part of the vision—”

  Stone cut through it all with the words, “Argue about it later,” spoken in a tone with an implied or else.

  All the mentors and Chime subsided, glaring at each other. Pearl, whose spines had started to take on an alarming angle and tension, said grimly, “You’re going to have to explain what this means.”

  Heart said, “If mentors are sharing a vision, it’s possible for one of them to accidentally add something to it. A fear, a hope, a memory. It’s not like the shared dream, but it’s not an entirely conscious act, either.”

  Merit interposed, “It’s because you can tell your own thoughts when they mingle with a vision, but if someone else’s are carried in the joint seeing, then you can’t tell where they come from—”

  “I can tell!” Thistle snarled, her voice roughening toward the deeper tone of her shifted form. “I can tell my own thoughts, and that wasn’t one of them!”

  “Merit, why do you think this part of the vision isn’t real?” Jade asked. She was controlling her own impatience pretty well but Moon could tell it was an effort.

  Merit shook his head but didn’t seem to be able to answer. Thistle said grimly, “Because he doesn’t want it to be true.”

  That wasn’t reassuring, but Moon would rather just hear it. “Just tell us what it is,” he said. If he had been in scaled form, he would have been signaling just as much frustration as Pearl, but he tried to keep his voice even. “Just tell us and let us decide.”

  Heart took a deep breath. “We saw Fell in the Reaches.”

  For an instant no one breathed. Moon felt a cold trickle down his spine, the sensation of having to suppress his fight reflex. The sole comfort of the shared dream was that it hadn’t been a vision, not a true augury, just a joint fear. Somebody made a faint noise of protest. Moon thought it was Floret. He thought it was a kneejerk “it can’t happen here” reaction, or maybe an “it can’t happen again” reaction. And Merit and Heart had been two of the Arbora carried away from the old colony by the retreating Fell. Maybe that explained Merit’s reluctance to believe in the vision.

  Pearl’s spines snapped into a neutral position. Belatedly, Jade did the same. Her voice expressi
onless, Pearl said, “Explain exactly what you saw.”

  Heart kept her voice calm and even too, despite the tension in her body. “We saw major kethel flying in the suspended forest. We couldn’t tell where they were. They carried sacs, and we knew they were full of dakti. We didn’t see any rulers.”

  Sacs were tumor-like growths that the kethel secreted to carry the dakti swarms over long distances. They could also make giant ones, carried by multiple kethel, that the whole Fell flight could travel in.

  Thistle looked away, her throat moving as she swallowed. “I don’t think it was an intrusion. I think it was part of the vision. It doesn’t mean it’s true, or that it’s going to happen, but it was part of the vision.”

  Moon realized Chime was pressing against his shoulder; his breathing was shaky, as if he was trying not to tremble. Moon leaned into him. Chime took a deep breath and said, “Well, I’m glad I didn’t see that after all. The nightmare was bad enough.”

  Pearl’s eyes were hooded. “And Heart, what do you think?”

  Heart lifted her chin. “I agree with Thistle.”

  Merit twitched in discomfort, but didn’t object.

  Jade’s brow was furrowed. “The last part is a warning, obviously. If we do the wrong thing, the Fell will raise the strength to attack the Reaches.”

  Balm lifted her shoulders, uncertain. “But does it mean that this happens if we go to the city or if we don’t go?”

  Moon wanted to hiss in frustration. That was the key point. Both the nightmare and the vision were obviously warnings. The hard part was figuring out what they were warning them about.

  Jade rubbed her brow, trying to conceal either fear or exasperation, and added, “Or does it happen if we don’t stop the groundlings from getting inside?”

  Stone said, “They can’t get into the city without us. That means we have a chance to get in first, and see what’s there.”

  “I did realize that,” Pearl said, her voice a half-growl.

  “I’m just making sure we’re clear on what we’re talking about here.” Stone asked Heart, “The vision didn’t say we shouldn’t go?”

  Heart touched her forehead, frowning in concentration, and Moon thought again what a lot of responsibility the mentors had. But their visions had kept the court alive, turned uncertain plans into triumphs, recovered the colony tree’s stolen seed, and had once saved Jade and her warriors against impossible odds. That sometimes the visions were too obscure to understand until closer to the event, or didn’t come to the mentors until it was too late, was frustrating, but you couldn’t argue with the successes.

  Heart said finally, “I felt that we should send someone with the groundlings. The source of the trouble, the power, is where the groundlings are going.” She looked up, her expression more certain. “I think we should be there when they find it.”

  Pearl looked at Thistle. “And you?”

  Thistle nodded. “There are things about the vision that are confusing, but I didn’t feel any benefit to staying here. I felt we had to take action.”

  Pearl flicked a spine. “Merit?”

  Merit grimaced and rubbed his face. “I . . . agree. I just . . .”

  Jade finished softly, “Don’t want it to be true?”

  Merit nodded grudgingly. “Yes.” He added, “I’m sorry, Thistle.”

  Thistle’s stony expression softened, and she nudged Merit’s shoulder in forgiveness.

  Pearl sat back, her spines still held rigidly neutral. Jade watched her, keeping her own face blank. Stone was wearing his opaque expression and Moon stopped breathing. Pearl looked around at them all as if this was their fault, and said, “Apparently there is no decision to make after all.” She uncoiled her tail and stood, and told Jade, “Choose who you want to take with you.”

  As they left the chamber, Moon told Jade, “I’m going.”

  She glanced at him, her expression grim. “I thought you might.”

  The argument over who else was going raged for most of the night. Moon gave up after realizing it had been a few hours and went up to his bower to sort out what he needed to take.

  Besides the usual supplies for traveling like flints, a blanket, a waterskin, and a knife, he was debating whether to bring extra clothes. For trips with other Raksura, when they weren’t going to another court, he usually didn’t bother. But they were going to be traveling with the groundlings much of the time, and nudity taboos could make washing the ones he was wearing difficult.

  He opened a wicker chest and paused as he saw what lay on top, wrapped in a fragment of dark silky cloth. It was the jewelry piece Malachite had given him that had belonged to his father. It was a small disk made of ivory, carved into waved lines, the pointed ends flowing to the left, in a way that symbolized the west wind. The dark rim of jade that had once framed it had snapped off halfway around and the yellow-white ivory was marred by a faint bloodstain.

  His father Dusk had been captured and eventually killed by the Fell, as part of an attempt to breed Fell and Raksura together to produce a being able to open the hidden forerunner city. It was proof that being a good consort and sitting at home in your court was no guarantee of safety. Moon had always known it was better to die fighting.

  Ember came in and sat by the bowl hearth to watch Moon sort through his belongings. He didn’t say he didn’t want Moon to go, but his dispirited body language suggested it. Ember and Moon got along well but they weren’t good friends, the way Moon was with Chime, and Balm, and Blossom and some of the others. They didn’t have much experience in common, and didn’t understand each other particularly well. But Ember had been raised with lots of other consorts and he supported Moon whenever he could in the court, and obviously found Moon’s presence comforting. Ember finally said, “I hope nothing happens.”

  He meant I hope you don’t all get killed.

  “It’ll be all right,” Moon told him.

  As a good consort, Ember pretended to be reassured by that.

  After Ember left, Frost came in and plopped down on the fur beside the hearth. She was in her Arbora form, and poked a claw at the cold warming stones. Moon wasn’t up here often enough to worry about getting a mentor to renew them. She announced, “Merit and Thistle are fighting.”

  Moon rolled up a shirt and tucked it into the bag. “Still or again.”

  “Again,” Frost reported.

  “Really fighting or just arguing?”

  “Thistle shoved him. But then she said she was sorry. She wants to go instead of him.”

  “Pearl is going to decide who goes.”

  “Yes, but Merit’s been out of the court more often, so everyone thinks he should go. Thistle says that means it’s her turn.”

  Moon considered going to Merit’s rescue, then decided to just let the Arbora sort it out. Moon disliked the idea of taking a mentor at all, but every past experience said it was too dangerous to go without one. All their other abilities aside, a mentor could scry for them and help guide their way.

  Then Frost said, “I think I should go.”

  Moon had been waiting for that. “I don’t think so.”

  Frost showed just how far she had come in the past couple of turns. Instead of throwing a screaming tantrum, she lifted her spines and said, “I’m big enough to help. It’s my duty as a queen.”

  Moon dropped the bag and sat down at the hearth. “If you’re big enough to go, you’re big enough to stay here and do your duty to help take care of the court.” He tried not to let her comment sting. He should be doing his duty, except he had two duties, one with the court and one with Jade and the others outside it, and choosing between them hadn’t been easy.

  Frost countered, “The Arbora say I have to stay in the nurseries. They won’t let me help take care of anything.”

  “That’s your duty as a queen right now, to learn to listen to the Arbora.”

  Frost unconsciously bared her fangs. Her rationale for going along on the trip depended on doing her queenly duty, and this effect
ively stymied her. Mostly because she was old enough to know it was true. Her spines slumped. “I don’t want you to go,” she muttered. “Or Jade. Or Balm. Or Chime. Or Stone. Or—”

  That sounded more like the old Frost. “Unless you go with us?”

  She twitched unhappily, her tail flipping anxiously. “Well, yes.”

  “I know, it’s hard,” he told her. “But being a queen is hard.”

  Frost met his gaze, and she seemed to realize he did know exactly how hard it was. She slumped further.

  Jade walked into the bower. Frost glared up at her and said, “If I was a warrior, I could do whatever I want.”

  Jade lifted her brows. “Besides going on patrols and guarding Arbora, and doing what you’re told?”

  Frost seemed to grudgingly give in on that point, but added, “That’s not a hard job most of the time.”

  “That’s why no warriors with any sense want to be queens.” Jade ruffled the frills on Frost’s head. “I need to talk to Moon alone.”

  Frost sighed and grumbled at this outrageous request, but got up and left the bower with some semblance of good manners. She had been better with Jade, too, which Moon found a huge relief. He could only do so much; Jade was the one who would have to teach Frost how to be a queen.

  Jade took a seat beside the hearth. “I’ve spoken to Song and Root and Balm. They’ve all agreed to go. I wanted Floret too, since she was there on the island even if she didn’t go down into the city with us, but Pearl wants her and Vine here.”

  Moon had thought that would happen. With Balm going with Jade, he could see why Pearl would want to keep Floret. “Chime says he’ll go too.”

  Jade tapped her claws on the fur, considering that. “Are you sure Chime wants to go? I know we need him, but I’ve never had the impression he likes travel the way Balm and Root and Song do.”

  “He says he wants to go.” Moon had been thinking uneasily about Chime’s reaction to hearing the vision of the Fell. “I told him, after what happened the last time, if he didn’t want to risk that again, I’d understand. But he knows we need him.”