Bramble and Delin came out to join them, Bramble squishing herself between Moon and Chime for comfort and Delin sitting nearby, sketching the landscape in one of his books. He had been almost as happy to see his papers, carefully saved with his pack from the sunsailer, as he had been to see Niran and Diar and the rest of the Golden Islander crew.
Rorra and Niran had followed them out with Kalam, and taken seats nearby on the sun-warmed deck. It was clear they were trying to get Kalam to take a rest from anxiously watching his parent. It was hard to tell with Jandera, but Kalam’s eyes looked sunken, a sign of fatigue, and Moon thought he had probably stayed up all night with Callumkal. Watching Rorra and Niran, two people not known for their cheerful demeanor, clearly trying to make Kalam feel better about his parent’s prospects was awkward.
Maybe that was what made Bramble wriggle out from under Moon’s arm to change the subject. She asked, “Do we know why the Fell are attacking the Reaches now? I mean, they’ve always hated us, so why now?”
Chime said, “The Fellborn queen told Malachite that the Fell are blaming us for what happened to the flights that tried to breed with Raksura.”
Bramble snarled at the unfairness of it. “That’s not our fault.”
“It is not your fault. But it is certainly due to the Fell’s lack of understanding of Raksura,” Delin said. He looked down the deck toward the kethel, who had moved up to the mid portion of the wind-ship. It sat back against the cabin wall with its head tilted up and its eyes closed, apparently enjoying the sun. “Do the Fell practice controlled breeding, as the Raksura do?”
That got Rorra’s and Kalam’s startled attention. Rorra said, “The Raksura do what?”
Delin explained, “When Arbora mate in order to breed, it is only with a great deal of consideration of their lineages and what traits they wish the offspring to have, and if they wish to produce Arbora or warriors. They try to anticipate what the court will require anywhere from twenty to forty turns in the future, since maturity rates for Arbora and Aeriat are different. There are no clutches created without careful planning.”
“He’s right,” Niran said with a sigh. “The teachers talked a great deal about their bloodlines and prospective clutches when I was there. In exhaustive detail.”
Moon had never thought of it in those terms, but he knew that was what Raksuran courts did. Indigo Cloud was breeding for survival, Opal Night breeding for war.
Chime said, sourly, “Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you plan, no matter how well you’ve taken everything into account.”
Bramble nodded in resignation. “We ended up with way too many Arbora for a while, and not enough warriors.” She looked up at Moon. “Or consorts.” After a moment, she added hesitantly, keeping her voice low, “I know you weren’t serious when you said—”
“I was serious,” Moon told her. “If you want.” He couldn’t remember if Bramble was one of the Arbora who had said she meant to try for a clutch later this turn. “If you don’t want a clutch—”
“I do.” Bramble bounced happily and squeezed his arm.
Rorra was saying slowly, “I’m still not sure I understand—” Kalam looked baffled and dismayed.
Delin smiled. “Sex that is not for procreation is a different matter, and done only to please the participants.”
Niran added, “That matches what I observed.” Rorra and Kalam turned to stare at him. Niran kept his expression carefully blank.
Moon said, “I don’t understand.” Chime, drawing breath to speak, broke off to stare at him in astonishment. Moon said impatiently, “No, I understand all that, but I don’t understand what it has to do with the Fell.”
“Oh, right.” Chime turned to Delin. “I’m not sure if the Fell plan their breeding like we do. I don’t think anyone knows. We know the progenitors breed with the rulers, but the dakti and kethel aren’t fertile. Or at least that’s what the mentors have always believed.” He frowned. “If the Fell don’t exchange rulers between flights . . . No, they must, or it wouldn’t work. I guess we could ask our kethel.”
Niran grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to be there when you do. Grandfather, what are you getting at?”
Delin said, “So the Fell’s controlled breeding, if they practice it at all, would be a simple affair. Whereas a Raksuran court’s controlled breeding is an elaborate weaving, all the threads considered and carefully placed by both the queens and the Arbora, with new thread judiciously spun from other courts as needed.”
Bramble stirred and said, “That would be a lovely drawing, if you knew more about weaving.”
“I’ve seen weaving done,” Delin protested to her. He made a gesture toward Shade, who leaned on the rail, listening with an expression almost as confused as Moon’s. “Fell and Raksura are two different species who share the same common ancestor. Yet Raksura are experts at breeding for beneficial traits, for the good of the whole court.” He shrugged. “If the Raksura had a way to manipulate the breeding of the Fell by some trickery, to add new bloodlines, they could turn the rulers and the progenitors into something else, more like the Fellborn queen, or like Shade. They could allow the kethel and dakti independent thought and let them develop naturally. Left to their own devices, the kethel and dakti might become more like the Arbora, able to provide and create, with no need to steal and destroy other species. No need to kill and consume each other in times when no other prey is available, or when the progenitor wishes to reduce their number. They would be ruled not by a progenitor with absolute control, but a being more like a Raksuran queen or consort, for whom the welfare of each member of the flight is of primary importance.”
Then Shade hissed in startled fury. Moon snapped around to look, shifting in mid-motion.
Kethel stood beside the cabin, having approached in total silence. It stared at Delin, its gaze fixed but lacking the predatory glint that would have sent Moon for its throat. It said, “How? How would this be done?”
Everyone had tensed. In his peripheral vision, Moon saw Kalam touch the belt of the fire weapon slung across his back, as if making certain it was still there. Rorra put both hands on the deck, ready to shove herself upright. Niran carefully didn’t look toward Diar, who stood in the steering cabin and had just picked up the fire weapon stored there. Shade had shifted and coiled himself around the railing, ready to strike.
Then Moon spotted Stone atop the steering cabin, sitting just at its edge. Moon didn’t think the kethel meant to attack, but it was a relief to see Stone nearby.
Delin was the only one who seemed undisturbed. Watching the kethel thoughtfully, he said, “I cannot say. It is only a theory. And would of course require the cooperation of many Fell.”
Kethel took this in, its large brow furrowing, apparently oblivious to the reaction it had caused. It said, “But not progenitors.” Moon wasn’t sure what was stranger, that it had been so excited by the prospect or that it appeared to be getting depressed as it considered the more practical aspects of it.