It was so absorbing, he didn’t realize he was being watched until he happened to glance up.
He must have heard something, smelled something, or just sensed another living presence. He looked up the open shaft of the atrium, noticing broad balconies, easy pathways to other interior rooms if he shifted and used his claws to climb to them. Then he found a shadow on one of the balconies, a shadow in the wrong place.
At first he tried to see it as a statue, it was so still. Then moonlight caught the gleam of scales on sinuous limbs, claws gripping the stone railing, the curve of a wing ending in a pointed tip.
Moon’s breath caught and his blood froze. He thought, You idiot. Then he flung himself through the nearest doorway.
He scrambled back through the debris, then crouched, listening. He heard the creature move, a rasp of scales as it uncoiled, clink of claws on stone. He thought it was too big to come further in, that it would go up, and out. Moon bolted back through the inner rooms.
He couldn’t afford to be trapped in here; he had one chance to get past that thing and he had to take it now. He skidded around the corner, his bare feet slipping on mossy tile, and scrabbled up a pile of broken stone to a vine-draped window. He jumped through, already shifting.
He felt movement in the air before he saw the claws reaching for him. Moon jerked away with a sharp twist that wrenched his back. He swiped at the dark shape suddenly right on top of him. He swung wildly, catching it a glancing blow across the face, feeling his claws catch on tough scales. It pulled back, big wings knocking tiles and fragments of greenery off the sides of the ruin.
Moon tumbled in midair toward the cracked pavement below, caught himself on a ledge around a half-destroyed tower, and clung to the stone. He looked back just as the creature flapped upward in a spray of rock chips and dead leaves. Oh, it’s big, Moon thought, his heart pounding. Not big enough to eat him in one bite, maybe. But it was three times his size if not more. Moon’s wingspan was close to twenty paces, fully extended; this creature’s span was more than forty. So two bites, maybe three. And it wasn’t an animal. It had known it was looking at a shifter. It had expected him to fly out of an upper window, not walk or climb out.
As the creature flapped powerful wings, positioning itself to dive at him, Moon shoved off from the tower, sending himself out and down, over the edge of the sky-island. He angled his wings, diving in close past the jagged rock and the waterfalls of heavy greenery. He landed on a spur of rock and clung like a lizard. Digging his claws in, he climbed down and under, folding and tucking his wings and tail in, making himself as small as possible.
He kept his breath slow and shallow, hoping he didn’t have to cling here too long. His claws were meant for fastening onto wooden branches, not rock, and this was already starting to hurt. He couldn’t hear the creature, but he wasn’t surprised when a great dark shape dove past. It circled below the island, one slow circuit to try to spot Moon. He hoped it was looking down toward the jungle.
It made another circuit, then headed upward to pass back over the top of the island.
Here goes, Moon thought. He aimed himself for the deep part of the river, flexed his claws, and let go.
Tilting his wings for the least wind resistance, he fell like a rock. The air rushed past him and he counted heartbeats, gauging how long it would take the creature to make a slow sweep over the sky-island. Then he rolled over to look up, just in time to see the dark shape appear at the western end of the island.
It saw him instantly. It didn’t howl with rage, it just dove for him.
Uh oh. Moon twisted back around, arrowing straight down. The rapidly approaching ground was a green blur, broken by the dark expanse of the river.
At the last instant, he cupped his wings and slowed just enough before he slammed into the river. He plunged deep into the cold water, down until he scraped the bottom. Folding his wings in tightly, he kicked to stay below the surface, the rushing current carrying him along.
Moon wasn’t as fast in the water as he was in the air, but he was faster in this form than as a groundling. Swimming close to the sandy bottom, Moon stayed under until his lungs were about to burst, then headed for the bank and the thick stands of reeds. The reeds were topped with large, wheel-shaped fronds that made a good screen from above. Moon let his face break the surface, just enough to get a breath. The fronds made a good screen from below, too, but after a few moments, Moon saw the creature make a lazy circle high above the river. He had been hoping it would slam into the bank and snap its neck, but no such luck. But he knew the water would keep it from following his scent. It probably knew that, too. He filled his lungs, sunk down again, and kicked off.
He surfaced twice more, and the second time, he couldn’t spot the creature. Still careful, he stayed under, following the river all the way back to camp. Once there, he shifted back to groundling underwater, then swam toward the shore, until it was shallow enough that he could walk up the sloping bank.
He sat down on the sparse grass above the water, his clothes dripping, letting his breath out in a long sigh. His back and shoulder were sore, pain carried over from nearly twisting himself in half to avoid the creature’s first grab. He still hadn’t gotten a good look at it. This is going to be a problem. And he and all the Cordans owed Tacras an apology.
But that thing wasn’t Fell—he knew that from its lack of scent. It might live on the island, drifting with it, and just hadn’t needed to hunt yet. Or it might just be passing through, and had used the island as a place to shelter and sleep.
He thought it must have been sleeping when he had reached the ruins, or he would have heard it moving around. Idiot, you could have been dinner. If it had snatched him in his groundling form, it could have snapped him in half before he had a chance to shift.
If it attacked the camp, what it was or why it had come here wouldn’t matter much; it could still kill most of the Cordans before they had a chance to take cover in the jungle. Moon was going to have to warn them.
Except he couldn’t exactly run into the center of the camp yelling an alarm. If he said he had seen it tonight, while sitting out by the river...No, he could hear that the camp wasn’t as quiet as it had been when he left. It was a warm night, and there must be others sitting or sleeping outside, who would say they hadn’t seen anything. He would look as unreliable as Tacras and no one would listen to him. He would have to wait until tomorrow.
When he went hunting, he would walk down the valley toward the sky-island. That would give him a chance to scout the island by air again, to see if the creature was still there, if it would come out in the daylight. Cautiously scout, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to get eaten before he could warn the Cordans. But when he told them he had seen the same creature as Tacras at that end of the valley, they would have to take it seriously.
Moon pushed wearily to his feet and wrung out the front of his shirt. As he started back up the long slope of the bank, he considered the other problem: what the Cordans were going to do once they were warned.
Moon didn’t have any answers for that one. The creature would either drive them out of the valley or it wouldn’t. He knew he couldn’t take it in an open fight. But if he could think of a way to trap it... He had killed a few of the smaller major kethel that way, but they weren’t exactly the cleverest fighters; he had the feeling this thing... was different.