“That would have been bad bargaining,” Moon informed her, setting the basket down.
While Jade hung her wrap over the window to block the worst of the drafts, Moon used flint and tinder to get the lamp lit. Instead of oil or a candle, it had a solid block of squishy material that the woman had said would burn most of the night, though not very brightly.
Once it was lit, the warm glow made the room cozy. Moon unpacked the basket of food, taking out the pleasantly warm clay pot first. Lifting the lid showed it was filled with meat in a thick, spice-scented sauce. Jade sat down across from him and took a piece from the pot, sniffing at it doubtfully. “Are you sure this doesn’t spoil the meat?”
“It keeps it from spoiling.” Moon ate a piece, licking the sauce off his fingers. There were also rounds of brown bread, another pot filled with bulbous purple roots and boiled greens, and sweet pastries with nuts and dried berries. They ate in companionable silence while the room grew warmer.
So far, they hadn’t made anything but vague plans for what they would do when they arrived at the Cordans’ valley. On their long flights, Moon had thought of a number of bad ideas, the worst of which was that they might try to steal someone, hopefully one of the elders, and convince him to reveal the location of the poison. Every idea seemed awkward at best, dangerous, and destined for failure. But until now he hadn’t thought of the simplest solution, that Jade could pass as a groundling. She might be able to walk into the camp and ask for the poison, or at least for the knowledge to make it.
Jade bit into one of the purple roots and blinked at the taste, but still swallowed it. “You lived in places like this?”
Her tone made him look up, frowning.
“It’s not that bad.”
A lot of different groundlings must pass through here, and no one had taken much notice of them. It wouldn’t make a good place to live; the terrain around the city was too barren to easily conceal shifting. And it was just too cold. She was still staring at him. He said, “Why?”
She shook her head. “Just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?” Just to be an ass, he offered her the flask of fruit and meat soup.
She gave him a look, ignoring the flask. “Understand you.”
Moon couldn’t think why she would want to. He hadn’t been making an effort to understand her, and had done everything he could to keep her at arm’s length.
He broke the last round of bread apart, and tried not to ask; he didn’t really want to know. But he found himself saying reluctantly, “And do you?”
She watched him long enough for him to have to fight the impulse to shift. Finally she said, “You’re angry that we didn’t find you sooner.”
She was right about that, but it wasn’t a revelation. It had been wearing on him since he had first arrived at Indigo Cloud. It made no sense, it wasn’t logical or fair, by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn’t help feeling it. He shrugged, and bit into a chunk of bread.
Jade took her time as she finished a last strip of meat, then licked her fingers. Right at the moment when Moon thought he might be safe, she added, “And you’re afraid, now that you’ve seen what your life with a court might have been like, that you’ll have a harder time feeling contented in any place you settle.”
That one was wide of the mark. Moon had seen close-knit communities before, had lived in beautiful places while knowing he didn’t belong and couldn’t risk remaining. He thought of the Hassi and their city above the link-trees. Not bothering to keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice, he said, “If I’d been able to choose what I was born as, I’d have picked something different.” As long as it was something that could still fly.
She tilted her head thoughtfully. With real curiosity, she said, “If Pearl had accepted you from the first, would it have been different? Would you have wanted to stay?”
Moon looked away, his jaw tightening. There had been a moment when, if Pearl had asked nicely, she could have had him on the floor of the gathering hall in front of the entire court, and he knew it. He was afraid everyone else had known it, too. He didn’t know whether to be angry at the rejection or relieved at the close call.
“You were expecting a consort from Star Aster,” he said, “a sheltered, spoiled consort with a perfect bloodline. Are you asking me to believe that it wasn’t a shock when Stone showed up with me?”
“I’ve known Stone all my life. I’m not surprised at anything he shows up with. You can’t have come from a bad bloodline; you’re strong, healthy, and your conformation is perfect.” Jade lifted her brows. “And you’re high-strung, shy, and have the same delicate sensibilities of every gently bred and sheltered consort I’ve ever met.”
Moon knocked back the last of the fruit soup, and set the flask aside. “We need to sleep.” He didn’t know why he was angry with her, why he felt exposed to the bone. I am not high-strung.
Jade didn’t pursue the argument or comment on his retreat, which just made Moon more irritated with her. When she started to push the blankets into a nest on the sleeping mat, Moon took one and retreated to the far edge. But he wasn’t angry enough at her to sleep on the cold floor.
Chapter Thirteen
Moon snapped awake with the conviction that a Fell ruler stood over him. Beside him, Jade twitched upright, snarling. The faint lamplight showed the room was empty, but Fell scent hung in the air.
“Not here. It’s in the wind!” Jade threw blankets aside as she scrambled upright.
Appalled, Moon rolled to his feet. A Fell ruler flew somewhere nearby, over the pass or the valley, and the wind had carried the scent to them. Jade was already at the window, pulling the blanket and the torn wind-shield aside. Cold air blasted in as Moon leaned past her to see out.
The plaza below was empty, except for the wagons and the huddle of draught-beasts. Few windows were still lit, and the torch stands in the streets were dark. Heavy clouds cut off any glimpse of starlight. Moon could barely see. The night would be nearly impenetrable to most groundling eyes.
“It’s somewhere close,” Jade growled, and shifted to her winged form. She hooked her claws over the stone window sill and pulled herself up to climb out. “We have to kill it.”
“I know,” he snapped. The ruler couldn’t be allowed to follow them toward a Cordan camp. If the Cordans really had used their poison in the fighting in Kiaspur, the Fell could know about it, could realize that Moon and Jade meant to get it to use at the colony. Moon shifted and followed as Jade slid out the window.
Moon sunk his claws into the stone as the wind tore at him, threatening to rip him right off the wall. It was laden with ice sharp as needles, peppering his scales. He followed Jade up the side of the building, and dragged himself up onto the rounded roof.
They both crouched there, tasting the wind. Around the caravanserai was a dark sea of rocky rooftops, with chimneys releasing gusts of white steam. The sky was a featureless curve of solid cloud, the mountains visible only in outline. Sight was almost useless, and scent wasn’t much better; the wind gusted in all directions, making the Ruler’s trace seem to come from everywhere. Jade scanned the sky, snarling in irritation. “I can’t tell the direction. We’ll have to search.”
And we have to split up, Moon thought. If they didn’t find the ruler now, all it had to do was hide and wait for them to move on. “You take the north side. I’ll take the south,” he said, and let himself fall into the wind.