Bead and Blossom stayed behind in the blind and, with Niran’s help, looked after Stone and Strike. Two older hunters, Knife and Spice, had been left behind to help restrain Balm if the Fell tried to use their hold on her again. She had been anxious and miserable the rest of the afternoon, but hadn’t shown any further signs of being under their control. Moon hoped that knowing about it now gave her some ability to resist. Flower had looked into the other warriors, but no one else had shown any sign of Fell influence.
Moon had only been on the fringes of the discussion, but everybody seemed to have a different idea as to what the survivors should do if the attack failed and the combatants were all killed. They agreed that whatever happened, Stone would be ragingly angry when he woke and discovered that he had missed it.
Moon reached the bank about a hundred paces downstream from where the colony’s stone platform stretched across the river. In the high grass near the water’s edge, he risked lifting his head to get a look at the colony. This side was already in shadow, framed against blue sky fading into yellow and orange as the sun set past the forested hills. The light of glow moss still shone from the openings up and down the pyramid’s wall, throwing yellow reflections down onto the dark surface of the water. It looked oddly normal, but then the moss would glow for a long time without help from a mentor. He couldn’t hear anything, except for the occasional cackle of a dakti. He hoped the place wasn’t a charnel house.
Moon slipped into the shallow water. According to the Arboras’ careful scouting, a kethel lay in the water at the base of the platform, in the gap that allowed the river to flow under the structure. It had obviously been posted to keep any Raksura from swimming under the platform and entering the colony through the openings there. Fortunately, the smaller channels that fed the water system were on the far ends of the platform, and not as difficult to get to.
The trick was to attract the kethel’s attention enough to get it to move, but not enough to make it tear the riverbed apart looking for intruders. It would have been safer to do this from the bank, but Moon didn’t want to risk the kethel leaving the water to search for him.
He took a deep breath, sunk down, and swam underwater to the middle of the river. He surfaced behind a rock, hooking his claws on it as the current pulled at him. The air was heavy with Fell stench so he couldn’t scent the individual kethel, but its presence had fouled the water, lacing it with a taste like rotted meat.
Hoping the Arbora were ready, Moon lifted one foot above the surface and brought it down sharply, making a distinct splash.
There was no response, no movement from the colony, just the faint whisper of wind in the trees. Moon gritted his teeth and forced himself to wait, counting heartbeats. Then he splashed again.
He felt the water move first, the wave as the kethel heaved its body up. Moon couldn’t risk a look but the creature must have stood to stare down the length of the river. Moon sunk down under the water again and let go of the rock, allowing the current to carry him downstream a short distance. Then he kicked the surface.
He felt the vibrations as the kethel stalked forward. That’s done it, Moon thought and, still underwater, swam for the bank. He huddled in the rocks, surfacing just enough to breathe. The kethel paced downstream, nearly to the point of Moon’s first splash. It stood for a long time, then growled, a low grumble of irritation, and turned back to the colony.
Using the noise of the creature’s movement as cover, Moon slung himself out of the water and scrambled up the grassy bank into the brush. Once in the shelter of the trees, he shook the water off his scales, shivering in relief. The poison should be in the river now, if the Arbora had managed to pour it in while the kethel was distracted, and it would have been flowing right toward him. I’d rather face the kethel than the poison, he thought.
Moon slipped back through the forest up to the low hill where the Arbora waited. Heavily cloaked with trees and ferns, it made a good vantage point to overlook the colony. Moon ghosted quietly through the foliage, passing the Arbora hidden in the grass, who acknowledged him with quiet clicks.
He found Chime and Bone crouched behind a tree and stretched out next to them. “Did they do it?” Moon whispered. If they hadn’t, the plan was stuck, because there was no way the kethel would fall for that trick again.
“Yes,” Bone answered. He jerked his head toward two Arbora, nearly invisible behind a bush. “Salt and Bramble got right up under the edge of the platform and poured it into the fountain channels.”
“They said the smell disappeared once it was in the water,” Chime said. “So maybe the Fell won’t realize it’s there.”
That was a relief. “Good.” Moon relaxed into the grass. Now they just had to wait. Flower had said that it wouldn’t take long for the poison to spread into all the colony’s fountains and pools. The dakti and kethel would probably drink before going to sleep, so it shouldn’t be long before most were affected.
He was just settling comfortably into the moss when the kethel burst out of the water, shaking its head frantically. Startled, Moon sat up to see better.
“What’s this?” Chime said, anxious.
The kethel slung itself onto the bank, and flailed in the brush, the trees waving wildly as their trunks cracked and split under its claws. It thrashed twice more, then collapsed, sliding back down the muddy bank into the river.
Bone hissed in admiration. “That was the poison?”
“It had to be.” Moon eased forward, trying to see. The kethel lay on its back, one leg twisted at an odd angle, dark fluid leaking from its mouth.
“It didn’t do that to Strike,” Bramble whispered from somewhere behind them, sounding awed.
“Strike’s not a Fell,” Moon reminded him.
His voice tense with excitement, Chime whispered, “The current forms a pool right under the colony, and the kethel was lying in it. It must have gotten a big dose of whatever poison didn’t get drawn up the channels.”
Moon squinted, making out movement on the platform. Several dakti came out of the lower entrances and flew down over the terraces to the riverbank. The Arbora twitched in quiet excitement, whispering to each other.
The dakti clustered around the kethel’s body. Moon couldn’t quite see what they were doing. They seemed to be poking around the corpse, maybe trying to decide what had killed it. He cocked his head, listening hard, and heard flesh tearing. That can’t be... Oh, that’s perfect. He leaned down to whisper to the others, “They’re eating it.”
Chime stared, and Bone muttered, “That’s typical of them.”
They listened to ripping and crunching sounds as the dakti tore at the kethel’s body. With no warning, another kethel appeared on the platform; it must have walked out of the colony and then shifted. It flew down and landed in the water, scattering the dakti as it sniffed at the corpse. Moon held his breath. If the kethel somehow detected the poison...
The kethel tore a huge bite out of the corpse’s belly, chewing it with apparent satisfaction. Then it spoke to the dakti, a low rumble that Moon couldn’t make out. It turned away from the corpse and Moon suppressed a snarl of disappointment. But instead of leaving the body, the dakti tore chunks off and leapt into the air to carry the meat back into the colony. More dakti came out to help tear the corpse apart, while the kethel climbed down the bank and walked into the water, moving upstream to the overhanging terrace. There, it slid down under the surface, taking the dead kethel’s place at guard duty.