They crossed over to the relative quiet of the stalk’s platform. A ramp with climbing bars curved up to the berths above and another led below. “Fourth position from the top is down here, next to that bladder-boat,” Moon said, and started down.
“I hate bladder-boats,” Stone said.
The last bladder-boat people they had run into had been hostile and far too eager to shoot their projectile weapons at Raksura. Maybe it had something to do with the general unreliability of air bladders as methods of transportation.
First they followed the curved walkway into the empty berth the Hians had used. The flower shape formed a partial roof overhead, and the empty space for docking was an open oval meant for the boat to fit into. It was a little cramped for a Kishan ship the size of the one belonging to the Hians, but it must be worth it to dock in partial shelter. There was nothing left in the folds of the flower that formed little rooms, no signs of previous occupation, not even any trash left behind. Moon crouched down and sniffed close to the floor, while Stone paced around and tasted the air.
Moon sat back finally, shaking his head. They were closer to the ground here and the bitter miasma that came from the swamplings’ part of the city covered any subtle odors.
Stone grimaced in annoyance and headed out of the berth, and Moon pushed to his feet to follow.
They traced the stalk’s ramp around to the bladder-boat’s berth and found a groundling curled up in front of the opening to the dock. It had very white skin, and patches of silver-blue hair, and was dressed in light silky fabrics. They stood there for a moment, but it didn’t move.
“Is it dead?” Moon started to say, and it suddenly sat bolt upright with a yelp.
Moon twitched, startled, though Stone didn’t. The little groundling curled up in a protective ball, staring at them with huge aquamarine eyes. It said something in a language Moon didn’t understand.
Stone asked it, “Do you speak Kedaic? Or Altanic?”
It blinked at them, then said in Kedaic, “Are you thieves?”
“Do we look like thieves?” Stone said, deadpan. “That’s a little insulting.”
Still wary, it edged toward the door. “Sorry, you startled me. I’m supposed to be guarding the ramp.”
“We’re not thieves.” Moon just wanted to get this over with. He didn’t think this groundling would have any information, and they would have to head back to meet the others and lose any advantage they might have had. “The portmaster sent us here. We’re looking for any news about a Kishan-made flying boat that docked here two days ago, with Hians aboard. They were in the next berth on this level.”
The groundling’s narrow shoulders relaxed a little. It rubbed the flat triangle of its nose and yawned. “Yes, I saw that ship. It traded cargo with another Kishan ship that was docked up top and then left.”
“Traded cargo?” Moon hadn’t been expecting that.
“Which way did it go?” Stone added.
“Don’t know.” It looked from Stone to Moon. “I didn’t see it leave.”
Stone looked away, obviously controlling the urge to growl in frustration. Moon wondered about that cargo. Maybe they had the wrong Hian flying boat, and this one was just a group of traders. Maybe Vendoin’s boat had docked somewhere else in the city and had lied about its origin to the portmaster, or Lithe’s augury had been wrong and it hadn’t stopped here at all. He said, “What cargo did they trade?”
“I didn’t see it.” The groundling leaned against the doorframe, relaxing more as it became increasingly clear that Moon and Stone really were here for information. “They went back and forth a lot, kept us awake through our rest day.”
Moon considered the possibilities. “So all you saw was a bunch of Hians going back and forth between the two berths.” Stone glanced at him, gray brows drawing together.
“Heard, mostly.” The groundling made an elaborate gesture with its stick-like arms, then added, “But why would they do that except to exchange cargo?”
Moon was certain they had been exchanging something. Stone said, “How long was the first Hian boat here? The one that was docked in the upper part of the stalk.”
“I don’t know.” It rubbed its nose again, thoughtfully. “It was here when we arrived. I guess they were waiting for the second Hian ship, to exchange cargo.”
Moon asked, “Did you see it leave? The first ship, the one that was waiting for the second one.”
The groundling made another gesture. “It went south.”
Moon switched to Raksuran to say to Stone, “They switched flying boats.”
“Huh,” Stone commented. He asked the groundling, “Where was it docked, the flying boat they traded cargo with?”
The groundling pointed upward. “The first berth on the second tier, the one facing the sea.”
Stone was already halfway around the curve of the ramp. Moon said, “Sorry we woke you,” and followed.
The Kish-Jandera and the Hians could track the moss used in the motivators of their water sailers and flying boats; it was how the Hians had found Callumkal’s sunsailer out in the Ocean’s fringe. The sunsailer’s horticultural shaman had been killed during the Hians’ attack, but Lithe and the surviving Jandera navigator had been able to cobble together a tracking liquid so they could follow the Hians toward the coast. But the range wasn’t limitless and it had given out by the time the sunsailer reached the archipelago, leaving them with only a general direction and Lithe’s visions to guide them. The Hians had obviously planned ahead to foil any attempt to track them, with the second flying boat waiting here.
In his pack Moon carried another piece of Kishan moss, a sensible precaution Jade had insisted on. Once Kalam found a Kishan horticultural, the others could find them if anything went wrong and they missed the meeting at the swampling port.
Stone reached the ramp and stopped so abruptly that Moon bumped into his back. “What?” he demanded.
Stone tasted the air. His mouth twisted into a growl. “Fell.”
Moon hissed in startled reflex, then glanced back at the bridge to the bladder-boat’s berth to make sure the groundling hadn’t heard. “How close?”
“Somewhere nearby, on the ground.” Stone started down the ramp. “I’ll keep them occupied. Make sure the Hians didn’t leave anything behind in that berth.”
Moon considered telling him to be careful but there was no point in that. He started up the ramp at a run. They knew at least one flight of Fell had followed the sunsailer, maybe two. Or maybe one was following the other flight. Moon snarled under his breath, frustrated at himself. It was his fault one of those flights was still taking an interest in them, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
The climbing racks were tempting, but Moon didn’t want to shift yet. Some races had even better night vision than Raksura and he still didn’t want to chance being seen, not until he had checked this last berth.
He passed up through the darkness to the upper tier of flying boat docks, where two of the ramps led to empty flowers and one was guarded by a furred groundling sleeping in the shadows of the doorway. There was no sound of movement from the berths, but the wind played with something light and metal and jangly, maybe attached to one of the boats. On the next tier all three berths were empty and he went to the one facing the sea.
At first glance, there was again nothing left behind, not so much as a discarded fruit rind or muddy footprint. Moon paced around impatiently, sniffing the walls and floor, trying to be thorough even though he wanted to rejoin Stone. Then he glanced up at the petals where they curved over the berth. There was something up there, just a dark shadow on the edge of the metal.