As Kethel neared the blockage in the shaft, Moon was able to get a good look at the obstruction. He hissed under his breath. Part of the wall had broken loose and jammed across the opening. Moon climbed down off Kethel’s back and started looking for gaps. Kethel dragged its big claws across it, searching for purchase to pry it up.
Moon circled the obstruction twice, digging at narrow crevices until his claws ached, but there was no point wide enough for him to wiggle through. He scrambled back as Kethel managed to dig out some of the debris on the side, but it only revealed how firmly the slab was jammed in. It made him remember what Bramble had reported about the Hians ability to manipulate rock; this had obviously been no coincidence.
Moon shook his head. “We’re wasting time,” he called up to Kethel. “We need to look for another way in.”
Kethel didn’t give any sign it had heard him, just glared at the obstruction. Moon had time to wonder if their unlikely partnership ended here. Then it held out its arm again for him.
On the way back up to the top of the shaft, Moon tried to decide where the best place for another entrance would be. Those petal structures had to be for flying boats, just the way the groundlings had used them in the ruins on the continent below. Even though the forerunners had been able to fly, they must have found flying boats just as convenient as Raksura did.
Just before they reached the top, he leaned down to Kethel’s ear-hole and shouted, “Try to get inside one of the flower pods.” Then the wind hit them at full strength and Moon had to huddle down behind its horns again.
He felt Kethel doing some fairly athletic climbing, then it swung down and the wind lessened again. Moon lifted his head to see they were in the lee of a set of pods. The one directly across had a dark opening deep inside, where the stem met the larger structure. Before the wind choked him, he managed to shout, “There, there’s a door!”
Kethel reached the rim of the pod and Moon shook the ice out of his spines as they ducked inside. The curved interior was sheltered and compared to the outside it was like stepping into a warm cave. Moon jumped down from Kethel’s back, and took a full breath of the icy air.
Kethel shifted to its groundling form, then staggered and sat down heavily. “Are you all right?” Moon asked, catching himself just before he reached to brush the ice off the top of its head. It’s a kethel, he reminded himself.
Kethel shook the ice off and made a vague motion for Moon to go ahead.
The round passage at the back of the pod curved up toward the base of the central shaft. Moon started down it, and after a moment Kethel shoved to its feet and followed him. Moon’s joints hurt and the skin under his hand and foot claws was numb. He guessed Kethel felt worse.
The gray light didn’t fall very far, and Moon couldn’t get a good look at the door blocking the passage until he was almost on top of it. It was a forerunner door, shaped like the carved image of a flower, the hundreds of petals folded into multiple spirals. But it was a crushed flower now, a twist in the shaft having broken it along the right side and detached it from the wall.
Kethel reached his side, dripping icy water from its braids and kilt. Moon said, “This is lucky. These doors only open for forerunners.” Or half-Fell consorts, like the way the lock on the steering cabin opened for Shade.
“Not lucky.” Kethel slid its hand in between the door and the wall and shoved the folded material down. “This flower is near the broken place in the shaft.”
Moon flicked his spines. Right, I should have thought of that. He climbed the wall and used his weight to help the kethel pry the door open enough for them both to squeeze through.
Beyond it was a wide corridor, the floor rounded and the walls lined with vine carvings, as if it was meant for climbing rather than walking. Light glowed faintly from apparently random spots on the carving, and there was a crack along the ceiling, more damage from the collapse in the shaft.
Moon tasted the air but couldn’t scent Hians or Raksura. He started down the passage with Kethel behind him.
Chime turned reluctantly away from the door, forcing his spines down to neutral. It wasn’t easy. Moon had gone off alone with a kethel. They had no idea what had happened to Jade and Stone and the others. Their numbers were dwindling and there was nothing they could do in this steering cabin to help. Panic rose in his throat and it took everything he had to choke it down.
Shade brushed against his arm, and squeezed his wrist. “It’ll be all right, Chime. Moon knows what he’s doing.”
Chime’s laugh came out as half-sob, half-growl. “You don’t know him like we do.”
Shade snorted but didn’t argue. “All we can do is keep looking.”
So Chime continued to search the cabin with Shade and Lithe for anything that looked like a steering lever. Just because it wasn’t obvious didn’t mean it wasn’t here. He forced himself to slow down and check every dark crevice.
Through the protective cushion of the cabin he felt the ship shake continuously. Their altitude was slowly dropping and the wind sounded like the worst gale Chime had ever experienced. It was making his spines itch and the muscles that controlled his wings twitch in reaction, even through the heavy walls of this chamber.
And the fact that it was still happening meant none of the others had been able to get to the weapon yet. Part of him wondered what it would be like when it happened, if they would just fall down dead suddenly or if it would hurt. The thing he was most afraid of was that it wouldn’t affect them at all because of some protection the forerunner structure would offer, and they would return to the wind-ship to find everyone else dead. Then there would be the struggle to get back down to their own continent, then the long trip to return to the Reaches, knowing what they might find . . .
Examining the sill of the crystal window Chime had already looked at, Shade hissed and said, “Someone’s out there.”
“What?” Chime pushed to his feet, bumping into Lithe as they both tried to see.
“It’s a Raksura, not sure who.” Shade pushed away from the window and dove for the ladder.
His heart pounding with hope, Chime swung down after him with Lithe on his tail. She said, “Maybe Moon found the others.”
If he had, Chime couldn’t think why they would come back here. The rotation of the structure hadn’t slowed any yet so he didn’t think they could have found the weapon.
Shade climbed out to the stairs, clinging to the rungs as the wind buffeted him. Chime stepped out on the platform and leaned between the climbing bars, squinting to see as the wind tore at his frills. But it wasn’t Moon, or Jade, or any of the others who had gone down the shaft. The figure fighting the wind above the ship was the Opal Night warrior Spark, and two other Raksura were with her. One carried a shape that was clearly a groundling. As they came around to approach, Chime recognized Root and Flicker. Flicker carried Rorra.
Chime hissed, and dropped back to the platform to report this to Lithe. She said, “Why would they fly ahead?”
“Probably not a good reason,” Chime said. A thump sounded as someone landed hard on the roof and Chime and Lithe scrambled back inside to give them room. Root swung in first, breathing hard and covered with ice crystals. “What are you doing here?” Chime demanded.
Root shook his spines and turned to help Flicker and Rorra inside. Rorra wore one of the flying packs, but it would have been useless in the wind. Flicker stumbled and started to sink to the floor and Rorra held him upright. She was bundled up in an extra Kishan coat, but her skin was still gray-blue with cold. Her voice hoarse, she gasped, “We found Vendoin.”