Delin lifted his brows. “You think there is no progenitor who would cooperate?”
“No.” It shook its head slowly, reluctantly dismissing the idea. It looked around at all of them finally. Then it said defensively, “We changed. And it was better for kethel and dakti.”
Moon made himself lower his spines. He exchanged a glance with Chime. It had occurred to him that Delin had seen the kethel approaching to listen and had been talking solely to it for the past few moments.
Shade was still braced for attack. Moon shifted to groundling and said, “Shade, come here.”
Shade’s tail lashed once, but he was far better trained in good Raksuran behavior than Moon, and too polite to resist when an older consort called him. Reluctantly, he shifted and climbed down from the rail, still watching the kethel with hostility. Chime scooted over to make room and Shade came to sit behind Moon.
Kethel watched this with curiosity, but said nothing.
Niran turned deliberately to Delin. “What does this have to do with the Fell striking at the Reaches, grandfather?”
Delin said, “Just that I think it isn’t the rumors of the artifact from the foundation builder city which has caused this. It may have been the catalyst, when word reached the other Fell of the flight that had been destroyed in pursuit of it. But the Fell must have been attributing their decline to the Raksura for some time. Fell do not seem to exchange information with each other with much frequency, and ideas must spread between flights very slowly. But if I have noticed the Raksuran potential for breeding the progenitors’ control out of the Fell, surely the progenitors have as well.”
Still watching the kethel warily, Rorra said, “Whatever the cause, it’s the artifact we have to worry about at the moment.”
Then Kethel said, “Where do they take it?”
Moon glanced up at Stone, who shrugged and looked out over the plain. He read that as Stone not being able to think of any particular objection to sharing this information with the kethel. Moon couldn’t think of any reason not to either. He said, “We don’t know. And we’re not sure if they know. The person who was probably going to help them figure it out died in that river trading town.”
Kethel didn’t respond, but moved to the railing, squinting as the cold wind gusted across the deck.
Chime hunched his shoulders, obviously still uneasy at the kethel’s part in the conversation. He said, “The Hians have to have some idea. They didn’t just head off at random. But if we’re lucky, it’s the wrong idea.”
Kalam said, “Perhaps Vendoin spoke more to Callumkal than she did to you and Bramble. When he wakes—I’m sure he will wake—He can tell us more.”
Faced with Kalam’s hopeful expression, Moon tried to look like he thought this was a real possibility. But he saw Rorra look away toward the rail, her face creased with worry.
It was a relief when Merit and Lithe came out of the belowdecks hatch. At least until Moon saw their expressions.
Chime sat up, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
Merit said, “Lithe and I had a vision.” He glanced at her. “Not a joint one, but still . . .”
Lithe’s expression was distressed. “The details were different, but it was the same central image. Metal buildings on a cold sea, so cold it made ice, like the top of a tall mountain. At least that’s what I thought it was.”
“That’s what you saw before,” Chime said to Merit. “Back home, in the joint vision with Heart and Thistle. Isn’t it?”
Merit nodded. “I thought it was a city. But this time I could tell it was a huge boat, a water ship, like the sunsailer but much bigger.”
Lithe let her breath out. “In those early visions, there was an image of a stone city in the clouds. We think now that was the foundation builder city in the escarpment. The feel of something powerful waiting must have been the artifact.”
“This water ship must be up here somewhere,” Merit added, making a gesture toward the plains below the wind-ship. In the distance, another flock of wingless birds rode the wind. “It must be where the Hians are going.”
Moon pushed to his feet and stepped to the rail. It was cold enough now for frost to collect on the tall grass patchworked across the rocky plain, and it glittered in the sunlight.
They must be approaching the cold sea from the mentors’ visions.
They spotted another ruin in the late afternoon, this one just a huge, partial circle of metal standing on its side, mounted in a stone base, with weather-worn designs embossed into what was left of the rim. It was so tall, the wind-ship could have brushed the top with its hull.
Leaning over the rail, Moon saw where the missing section of the rim had fallen, its outline still visible as a raised sickle-shape in the soil and grass.
“Are you certain that isn’t where they went?” Diar asked. She made a gesture. “It looks strange enough.”
Rorra lowered the distance-glass. “There’s no sign of their craft,” she said, but she didn’t look entirely satisfied with that. She turned away from the rail. “Better have Dranam check the moss again.”
Chime came to stand by Moon, squinting at the structures at the ruin’s feet. “It doesn’t look like it was made by the forerunners. It looks more like that building that was stuck in the middle of the forerunner ruin.”
But Dranam reported that the moss still showed movement, and the wind-ship sailed on. By evening they had seen four more similar ruins off in the distance, but the moss said the Hians had passed them all by.
They spent a chilly night, and finished off the dressed meat that the Opal Night warriors had stored away in the hold. It wasn’t as good as fresh, but the cold had helped keep it from rot. Stone took a portion to the kethel up on the deck. Bramble and some of the groundling crew had made a shelter for it behind the stern cistern, with some blankets and a tarp waterproofed with mountain-tree sap. Kethel seemed bemused by this gesture, but hadn’t hesitated to crawl inside.
As the dawn light gradually grew brighter, Moon got his first glimpse of the cold sea.
It stretched out from a shore concealed under a coating of snow. The low waves carried chunks of ice and had built a white wall along the water’s edge, so tall it was hard to tell if it was made entirely of ice, or if something else lay beneath it. The water washed against small ice-covered islands that spiraled out from the shore in a pattern that didn’t look natural. Moon wondered what the ice and snow concealed, if the islands were pylons for a broken causeway, or foundations for long-gone structures.
In the bow, the freezing wind pulled at Moon’s hair and stole the breath from his lungs. Even without their scales, Raksura weren’t as susceptible to the cold as other soft-skinned groundlings, but he was glad of the Islander shirt over his other clothes. He was used to snow and ice in the valleys and slopes at the top of mountains, not on flat terrain, and the strangeness of it was unnerving. There was no scent of salt in the air, so it must be a freshwater sea.
He heard Jade’s claws scrape the deck behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and he leaned back into her warmth. “Be careful,” she said, “you don’t want to get a lung sickness.”
“I think that’s going to be the least of our problems,” Moon said, keeping his voice low.
Niran stamped out of the hatch, wrapped up in a blanket. He surveyed the cold blue water in horror, muttered a curse, then turned to stamp toward the steering cabin. “Diar!”
They gathered just outside the open wall of the steering cabin, watching Dranam tease more information out of the moss. Chime sat on the deck, helping to hold the chart that Diar was drawing. Kalam and Dranam didn’t seem much bothered except by the wind, but the Golden Islanders were feeling the cold, even bundled up in all their extra clothes. They looked so uncomfortable, River actually stepped back and spread his wings to help block the wind. Delin had tried to come out on deck twice so far, and been unceremoniously bundled back below by the nearest Islander.