She meant say goodbye. Though he refused to look at them, Moon could feel Chime, Balm, and Heart staring at him, but he didn’t see any point to a formal farewell. If Jade was telling the truth, he would be back here soon, and if she wasn’t…He still didn’t see any point to it. “No.”
Tempest and Zephyr moved toward the passage to the knothole, and Moon turned to follow them.
There was still no sound or movement from any of the Arbora or Aeriat watching from above, and the silence burned into Moon’s back as he crossed the hall. He realized a very stupid part of him was hoping someone would yell “Stop!” at the last moment. His throat started to ache, choking him with an urge to do…something. Maybe wail in pain, the way Raksura expressed their grief.
He conquered the impulse, and followed the queens through the passage out of Indigo Cloud.
Zephyr took her warriors away toward Sunset Water, and Moon flew with Tempest and the others through the great green caverns of the suspended forest.
They passed through a light rain at midday, but the wind stayed calm. Tempest kept to an easy pace for the slower-flying warriors’ sake, and following her lead didn’t require much of Moon’s attention. He would have preferred a more difficult trip; the last thing he needed was time to think.
When the day’s light began to fail, Tempest slowed their flight and banked down to a platform high in the branches of a mountain-tree. The platform supported a stand of trees with bright green canopies and white flowers, common to the forest. The Arbora called them puffblossoms, because the flowers dropped their seeds in delicate puffy globes that caught and traveled in the breeze. These were in seed now, and the whole platform was covered in drifts of white fluff.
Tempest and the warriors landed in the high grass at the edge of the stand, their wings stirring up a storm of delicate blossoms. Moon lighted a little distance away, rippling his spines to shake off the puffy seeds and folding his wings.
The others moved into the trees, to a spot where the grass was sparse, and spread out to scout the area. There was a pond there, fed by a fall of water from one of the mountain-tree’s higher branches. Moon turned and walked away from the grove, toward a spot of flat bare moss and hard dirt at the edge of the run-off from the pond.
Across the canyon formed by the enormous canopies, another mountain-tree boasted larger platforms, some with open stretches of grass and others thickly clustered with smaller trees. As Moon focused on it, movement on one of the lower platforms resolved into a herd of furry grasseaters; probably the reason Tempest had picked this place to stop.
He glanced back at the camp. Three of the warriors had shifted to groundling and were sorting through the packs, shaking out blankets, filling a waterskin from the fall into the pond. The two others had kept their winged forms and had taken up guard positions in the puffblossom branches.
Moon didn’t want to shift; he already felt too vulnerable, from the dangers of the suspended forest, from his companions. But his back ached from flying with tense muscles and he needed to rest. Reluctantly, he took his groundling form.
Losing the weight of his wings was a relief, and he stretched until his joints popped, then sat down beside the stream. He wasn’t looking forward to the night. He hoped making it clear that he wanted to be alone would keep the warriors away from him. Of course, beating one or two of them senseless would keep them away from him too, but he didn’t want to give Tempest an excuse to keep him from shifting.
He was watching the multi-colored snails inching along the wood at the water’s edge when he sensed someone approaching. He looked up to see Tempest coming toward him.
Moon tensed, bracing himself to simultaneously shift and leap backward. Tempest stopped, dropped her spines and held up her hands, claws retracted. With an edge of ironic amusement in her voice, she said, “Easy, I just want to talk.”
Moon settled reluctantly, watching her. She came closer, stopped about five paces away and eased down to sit on her heels so they were eye level. She said, with a trace of skepticism, “I find it hard to believe you became that attached to Indigo Cloud in such a short time.”
Moon bared his teeth, not in a smile. “It’s not as exciting as Emerald Twilight. No sister queens plotting to take over the court.”
Her jaw tightened, her spines shivered with the effort not to flare, and she looked away. After a long moment, she let her breath out, and flicked away a drift of puffblossom. “I asked for that.” Her voice was dry. “I’ve paid for it, too. I don’t have so many sisters that I can lose one. Even one who hated me.”
After their trading visit to Emerald Twilight, the warriors and Arbora had brought back a rumor that Ice had tried to exile Halcyon for plotting against Tempest and Ash, Halcyon had refused to go, and Tempest and Halcyon had settled the matter by fighting to the death. Though Moon had felt sorry for Ice and Shadow at the time, overall he thought it was good riddance. He thought Tempest deserved an honest answer as to his feelings now, so he said, “I don’t care.”
It surprised her and she glanced at him, lifting a brow. “You aren’t a shy one, are you.”
Moon just continued to regard her, certain that was probably intended as more of an insult than it sounded. Consorts his age were supposed to be shy and reserved, like Ember. Not sullen and reticent, like him. If Moon was just a little more suspicious, he might wonder if he had been lured out of the court so that Tempest could kill him, as revenge for what had happened with Halcyon. The only reason that wasn’t more than an idle thought was the fact that Tempest could have killed him anytime in the past day, with no one but her warriors the wiser; there was no reason to travel any further.
Apparently expecting more of a response, Tempest snorted in exasperation. “Are you planning to behave this way at Opal Night?”
Meaning she expected him to have to beg to be accepted. Moon knew how that would go. “I’ve lived in a Raksuran court for only six months out of more than forty turns. If you think I’m afraid to be alone, you’re wrong.”
Tempest frowned, the skepticism in her expression gradually giving way to something harder to read. “It’s your birthcourt. It’s the largest court of the far west Reaches. You don’t see this as an opportunity?”
An opportunity for what? He didn’t know why Opal Night had demanded him, except that it was a way to exercise power over another court. If it was so large then it should have no need for extra consorts; if Moon was stuck there, the best he could expect was to be handed off to some unknown queen who was unlikely to consider a former feral solitary as any great prize. The worst…He didn’t know what the worst would be. Though Tempest might. Watching her intently, he said, “Maybe they don’t want a feral solitary in their bloodline.”
Tempest drew back, spines lifting in affront. “What do you mean?”
“They left me to die in a forest when I was a fledgling. How do I know they don’t want to finish what they started?”
Tempest hissed, surged to her feet in one fluid motion, spines rigid with contempt. “If you really believe that’s even remotely possible, you know little of us.”
Moon glared up at her. “I think I know too much of you.”
Tempest lashed her tail, crouched and leapt upward. Two strong flaps took her up to one of the mountain-tree’s lower branches. The gust of air stirred by her wings would have knocked Moon over, if he hadn’t braced himself.
From the shelter of the puffblossom trees, the warriors stared.
Moon let out his breath and flicked water over the snails. Apparently he had won; he didn’t feel proud of the victory.