Jade twitched her tail, but she sounded more amused than angry. “Because I said so.”
It’s a test, Moon thought. Another test. Jade must have also noticed that Vine seemed to be changing his allegiance from Pearl to her. It would be good if he did; Jade could use another male warrior, especially an experienced adult like Vine.
Vine grumbled and made it clear he was being ill-used, but didn’t make any real protest. Jade and Balm set off to the south, and Moon and Chime headed north.
Moon flew along the curve of the shore, maintaining an easy pace so Chime could keep up with him. The fields between the forest and the beach were thick with grass and flowers, empty except for an occasional herd of grasseaters. Big and slow-moving, their backs were protected by a heavy green shell, so that only their little heads and stumpy feet were visible. Not a very good prospect for prey if they had to stay here much longer.
Moon wanted to get a good look at the shoreline, though he wasn’t certain what he was looking for. A groundling town with a harbor would be nice, a place where people who came across the sea to explore the forest might land their boats.
To his surprise, it wasn’t long before he found it, or what was left of it. First he spotted stone pilings standing in the shallow water, making a rough square shape. He tilted his wings, gliding downward for a closer view. It looked like the remains of a dock or a platform that had been built out from the shore. If there were any remnants left on the land, they were hidden under the grass.
The further they went, the more pilings they found, tracing the outlines of more elaborate structures. Soon they were flying over the scattered foundations of a whole maze of buildings, long docks, and causeways. Moon cupped his wings and dropped down to land on a broken pillar more than three paces across. The stone was chipped and coated with moss. Tiny blue fish darted in the water just below. Chime managed to land on another piling nearby and flailed his wings for balance. “This was a huge city,” Chime called.
Moon turned to look down the shore. He had been so focused on what was below them, he hadn’t noticed what was ahead. “Looks like some of it’s still there.” Some distance down the shoreline, he could just make out structures, round beehive shapes, standing high above the water. They might be a part of the ruined city still standing, or other inhabitants had taken over the old pilings for their own use.
“What?” Chime turned, his spines lifted as he spotted the distant shapes. “Huh. I wonder if they know anything about the groundlings out in the sea.”
“We can ask,” Moon said.
As they drew near the beehive city, they turned away from the shore, into the forest. Flying under the cover of the tree canopy, they landed on a branch at the edge of the open beach.
From here, Moon saw the buildings were made of braided wood, some hundreds of paces tall. They stood on a wooden grid built out over the water, using the old pilings as foundations. A fleet of light woven boats were tied up under the grid, but the inhabitants seemed to be farmers rather than fishers. Vines grew up out of the water, trained to wind up wooden racks along the sides of the walkways, until some of the hives looked as if they were growing out of a miniature forest. He could see the inhabitants, too, paddling their boats, crossing the catwalks between the upper levels of the hives, picking some sort of fruit or pods off the vines. They were Kek, just like the ones who lived under the mountaintree roots.
“This is no help,” Chime said, disappointed. “They couldn’t be the groundlings who came to our tree. The forest Kek would have known what they were.”
He was right. It was vaguely possible that the forest Kek had told them an elaborate lie to cover up the actions of their seashore-dwelling cousins, but this was still far from where the seed was supposed to be. And these Kek looked a little bigger, but were still no match for the bones of the dead thieves. “Maybe they saw something. It’s worth asking.”
It was worth asking, but Moon still felt strange flying into a groundling settlement, even a Kek settlement at the edge of the Raksuran Reaches. He circled over the area nearest the shore first, Chime following his lead, just to see what the reaction would be.
The Kek didn’t seem frightened or angry at the sight of two Raksura in the air. They came out of the vine racks and the hives to look up, point and call to each other.
Bracing himself, Moon circled down toward an open section of platform and cupped his wings to land. The wood creaked as his weight settled on it; it was surprisingly spongy underfoot. Moon folded his wings to make room as Chime dropped down behind him. The Kek gathered around the edge of the platform and crowded the catwalks above. They kept their distance but still didn’t seem afraid.
One Kek came toward them. Like the old leader in the forest, he had stringy white growths on his arms and a squarish head. In Raksuran, he said, hopefully, “Trade?”
Moon wished he had thought of that, but he had no idea what the Kek would want. He countered, “No. Talk?”
A little taken aback, the Kek looked from Moon to Chime. “Talk, yes?”
Chime tugged on one of Moon’s spines and whispered, “Shift.”
I hate this part. Moon was never going to get over feeling vulnerable in front of a large crowd of groundlings who knew what he was, not even the Golden Islanders or the Kek. Chime was still tugging. Moon shook off his grip and shifted to his groundling form. The cool wind off the water pulled at his shirt, and the bright sun, which he had barely felt on his scales, warmed the back of his neck.
Chime followed suit, and the watching Kek murmured to each other in what sounded like approval.
The leader gestured for them to follow and led them further into the city, between the high wooden hives. The heavy greenery grew everywhere, hanging from racks overhead, climbing the hive walls. The place smelled of sweet green plants and moss, combined with the clean acrid scent that came from the Kek themselves.
On the brief walk they mutually managed to establish that the leader was called Khitah, and they were called Moon and Chime. Presumably the Raksura this city normally traded with could speak Kek, because Khitah had as much trouble speaking Raksuran as the forest Kek, and didn’t know any other groundling languages. Listening to him, Moon thought it was more the way the Kek’s mouth and throat were constructed; Khitah seemed to know far more Raksuran words than he could manage to say.
Khitah led them under one of the walkways bridging two of the hives and stopped to gesture up at it. Mounted along the arch of the bridge were several wooden plaques. Carved of warm-toned wood, they depicted views of the beehive city, with Kek paddling boats and harvesting their plants. It was clearly Arbora work.
Moon nodded, trying to look appreciative. Khitah seemed pleased.
Keeping his voice low, Chime said, “We should have brought them a gift.”
Exasperated, Moon asked him, “Did you know we were coming? Because I didn’t.”
“I’m just saying that next time we should—”
Moon turned to Khitah. “We want to ask about other people who live out on the sea. Islands? That way?” He pointed out toward the water, roughly in the direction the mentors thought the seed lay. “Islands. People,” Khitah agreed, and made an expansive gesture, indicating most of the sea.
“Good. But what about that way?” Moon pointed again.
Khitah considered it, as the breeze stirred the feathery growths on his arms and head. He waggled his stick-like fingers in what seemed to be the Kek equivalent of a shrug.
“Maybe they just don’t know,” Chime said, a little frustrated. “Those round boats couldn’t make it very far out into the water.”