Up by the fallen platform, Moon saw the warriors had retrieved the other Arbora from the platform. Good, they got them all. Watching helplessly while an Arbora fell to his or her death was not something Moon wanted to do, ever.
He twisted around and spread his wings again, angled them back to catch air and slow his fall. Turning the headlong plunge into a glide, he came around toward the waterfall, away from any more falling debris. “You all right?” he asked the Arbora. From her build and dark green scales, he thought she might be Plum, one of the younger hunters. But her face was buried against his chest and he couldn’t be sure.
She made a choking noise and nodded. Moon took another swing around, to check where the rest of the debris would fall. The Kek, groundlings who lived among mountain-tree roots, had a village beneath the tree, but it was on the far side of the trunk from here and further out. And the biggest chunks of wood and dirt were hitting the slope of the trunk and disintegrating; none of the debris would make it to the ground in big enough pieces to cause damage to any Kek who happened to be foraging below.
Moon found a draft and rode it up, hoping he hadn’t broken any of Plum’s ribs. He had tried not to hit her too hard, but he hadn’t wanted to risk overshooting her either.
He came up over one of the big garden platforms, where warriors circled overhead and a group had gathered around the other rescued Arbora. Moon swept in to land lightly on the grass, and tried to set his Arbora on her feet. She shifted to groundling, but didn’t let go of him.
Chime reached them first, partially extending his wings for a long leap across the platform, over the heads of the Arbora who bounded toward them. “Is she all right?” he demanded, patting Plum’s hair anxiously. “Are you all right?”
Plum took a deep breath and managed to unclamp her hands. “Yes, I am.” She looked up at Moon. Her eyes were wide and her skin had flushed a dark copper; she looked as if she was about to be sick. “Thank you, Moon. I’ve never—I’ve never fallen before—I mean, Sage dropped me once accidentally when we were little, but it was only a few paces—”
The other Arbora reached them, Merit, Bark, and Rill first. With exclamations of relief and sympathy, they coaxed Plum away from Moon and guided her over to sit down.
“It’s lucky you were there,” Chime muttered, watching them. “I don’t think any of the warriors were close enough or fast enough to catch her.”
“You’re a warrior,” Moon pointed out. It still occasionally slipped Chime’s mind.
Chime gave him an exasperated look. He hated being reminded. “I know, but I couldn’t have caught her.”
He might be right; consorts could fly almost twice as fast as warriors, and Plum had been trapped in the falling debris for a good while. But Moon had been close enough to help and there was no point in wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t been here. “You didn’t ‘hear’ anything before the platform cracked?”
“No.” Chime grimaced. “Still useless.”
Since they had returned from the leviathan city months ago, Chime had been having erratic flashes of insight, but it was always about things that they didn’t really need to know. He could sometimes tell when a cloud-walker went by overhead, so far above the forest it was invisible even to Raksuran eyes. If Heart put him in a light trance, he could hear deep rumbling voices, which the mentors thought might come from the mountain-trees. But he hadn’t been able to augur or predict anything, or tell where dangerous predators were. It was disappointing, but then Chime’s strange new senses had been so much help on the leviathan, it seemed like ingratitude to expect more.
Toward the trunk, Moon caught a glimpse of Jade, spiraling down with Balm to examine the place where the platform had given way. Knell, the leader of the Arbora soldiers’ caste, was standing on the edge of this platform, waiting for them. Hands planted on his hips, his whole body was expressive of disgruntled disgust. He’s right, we didn’t need this, Moon thought.
Then Pearl landed nearby, scattering Arbora. She looked around at them and said, “No one’s hurt?”
“Everyone’s all right,” Rill told her. “The warriors got them in time. Moon saved Plum.”
Then Pearl focused on Moon. “Where are the fledglings?”
Alarmed, Moon looked up at the branch. But Dash had them, bringing them down the wide path atop the branch toward the climbing ridge along the trunk. Bitter, in his winged form, clung securely to Dash’s neck, and Dash was leading Frost with a firm grip on her wrist. She was craning her neck to watch the activity on the platform, and hanging on to Thorn, who trailed docilely along behind. There was nothing wrong with Dash’s instincts as a teacher, either; Frost was definitely the one most likely to make trouble.
Pearl followed his gaze and her spines twitched, in relief or possibly thwarted irritation. She couldn’t blame Moon for leaving the fledglings with an elderly and respected teacher. Pearl hissed, and looked for the next target. “Knell!”
Knell bounded over to land nearby. His spines carefully flat, he said, “They think it was the water. The channel for the fountain was plugged, but the water inside it was seeping out and wearing away at the platform’s roots.”
“Of course it was.” Pearl turned to look across this platform, then up at the ones nested in the higher branches and dripping roots and vines. “We’ll need to check every platform with a channel, plugged or not.”
Knell was tough, but Moon saw him brace himself as he told her, “Jade and Balm are starting that now.”
But one of the things Moon had learned about Pearl was that she never reacted the way anyone thought she would. Instead of an angry outburst at Jade’s presumption, she confined herself to an ironic snort. She said, “I’ll send warriors to help them.” She glanced around at the Arbora who had gathered to listen. “I want you to keep off the platforms with blocked pools, but are you willing to stay out here and finish the planting?”
Knell looked at the others, taking in their mood. Some looked uneasy or reluctant, but most nodded. Someone in the back said, “I guess now we know what the upheaval in the augury is.”
There were a few murmurs of rueful agreement. Another Arbora said, “We need to get the ripe berries picked on the lower platforms. I don’t think we can afford to waste the day.”
Pearl nodded in acknowledgement. “Work as quickly as you can.” She crouched and sprang into the air, snapped her wings out, powerful beats taking her up toward the knothole.
Chime let his breath out in relief. “That went better than I expected.”
Moon had to agree. “Are you going to help Jade and Balm?” Chime had a better eye for detail than the average warrior.
Chime nodded absently. “I’d better. I think I’ll start with this platform.”
Knell gave Chime an annoyed glare. “This one doesn’t have a blocked drain.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Chime leapt into the air.
Knell turned to Moon, and said, a little stiffly, “Will you stay out here?” Knell was another of Chime’s clutchmates, but when Moon had first arrived, he had been one of the Arbora who had objected to him joining the court. Even after everything that had happened since, it still seemed to color all their dealings. “It would make the others less uneasy.”
Some of the other Arbora still within earshot were watching Moon anxiously. “It’d sure make me less uneasy,” Spice seconded fervently.