“Everybody spoke to her,” he said, and it came out as a growl.
Beacon stepped back, and all the other warriors twitched and stared at him warily. Tempest, in the middle of drawing a breath to speak, stopped and settled her spines. After a moment, she said, “I doubt it will matter. If their queens won’t greet visitors, they can hardly accuse us of rudeness.”
Moon knew he had given away much more than he had meant to. Furious at himself, at Beacon, Tempest, everyone and everything, he went to the front of the room near the hearth and tossed his pack down on the bench that was closest to the side wall. His thoughts were bouncing from Jade lied to me to something happened on the way here and Jade’s dead, with Chime and Balm and whoever else was with her to something happened at the colony before they left and they’re all dead.
An uneasy silence settled over the room.
After a long moment, Beacon cleared her throat and said quietly to Tempest, “So this court really has two dominant bloodlines.”
“I had heard that rumor,” Tempest said. “But I didn’t put much credit in it before now.”
Prize looked at Moon. “If he’s really the only consort from the reigning queen’s last clutch, why didn’t she come out?”
Then Dart said, “She saw him.”
Gust snorted a laugh, as if it was a joke, and Beacon gave him a weary look.
Dart protested, “It’s true. The queen started to come in, saw him, and left.”
The others went quiet. Moon flushed cold, staring at Dart. He said, “You’re lying.”
Dart twitched uneasily, but said, “No. I saw her. She was dark green, that’s all I could tell. She looked right at you.”
Moon turned away and felt every nerve in his body pull as tight as wire.
No one said anything. Tempest stirred uneasily, and said, “Dart, that’s enough.”
In the quiet, Moon heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He hoped for an instant it was Jade, arriving late. Then Rise and several Arbora stepped into the room.
The Arbora carried platters of raw meat and baskets of fruit and bread. The warriors perked up, immediately interested.
The Arbora set the food down near the hearth and one put a kettle on the warming stones, then most withdrew. Rise nodded politely to Tempest and Beacon. There were three Arbora behind her, an older female who stood patiently waiting, and two younger males who craned their necks to see around Rise. They were wearing robes, red-brown and silver gray, probably hastily thrown on over other clothes, if Indigo Cloud’s reaction to unexpected visitors was anything to judge by. One of the younger Arbora spotted Moon and nudged the other with an elbow. They both stared until the older woman glanced at them and hissed. Abashed, both retreated into the passage.
Speaking directly to Tempest again, Rise said, “The reigning queen of our bloodline thought that the consort might be more comfortable in a bower with more privacy.”
Now everyone turned to stare at him. Right, Moon thought, bitterly amused. He could choose between the hospitality of a queen who had been disgusted at the sight of him or Tempest and her noisy, ignorant warriors. He said, “No.”
Tempest turned back to Rise and said, “He thanks the reigning queen for her kind offer, but declines to accept it.”
Rise frowned. The Arbora behind her exchanged looks of consternation. Rise pressed her lips together, obviously struggling with a reply, then finally said, “I see. I will give the queen his answer.”
Rise left and the last three Arbora trailed reluctantly after her. Moon heard them break out into a tense whispered conversation further down the hall, but he couldn’t make out the words. Everyone just stood around uneasily for a moment, then Tempest lowered her spines in resignation. “We’ve food and a dry place to sleep, and hopefully there’s hot water in the bathing room; take advantage of it. We won’t be staying here long if I can avoid it.”
She wasn’t talking to Moon. He went to the bench he had picked out, and lay down on it with his pack under his head and his back to the others. He tried to ignore their quiet talk as they ate, then explored the bathing room and settled for the night. The blankets were soft and smelled of fresh greenery, as if they had been recently aired.
It was a long way here from Indigo Cloud, and there were so many ways for even a queen as used to travel as Jade to get hurt, to get killed. And Jade didn’t know the Reaches anywhere near as well as Tempest, she wouldn’t know where the small obscure courts like Viridian Sea were, wouldn’t know where to go for help and shelter. If she had ever left Indigo Cloud at all.
Torn between despair and fear, if Moon slept at all, it was by accident. He heard every sound the warriors made, every breath, every faint noise from the corridor. At one point he came out of a light doze convinced that someone—something—was out in the passage, standing still and listening. Moon didn’t move, barely breathed, for a long time, stretching every sense. Finally he turned his head toward the doorway, but nothing stood there and no shadow fell across the floor. After a while he heard what might have been a footfall, and gradually the sensation of being watched faded.
It was a relief when he finally felt the sun lift into dawn. He got up and took advantage of the bathing room while Tempest and the warriors were still stirring. It was big enough for three or four times their number, with small pools fed by streams of water channeled down the stone walls, drapes of vines and the pillar-size roots winding between them. Moon picked a pool that had warming stones in it and took his first real bath since they had left Viridian Sea, using a soap that smelled faintly of unfamiliar flowers. He changed into the spare clothes he had brought, which had managed to stay mostly dry in his pack, and washed the others.
When he went back to the main room, the Arbora who had come to the door with Rise had returned, bringing tea and plates of fruit and flatbread. They didn’t stare at Moon the way they had last night, but he caught a few sideways looks from the younger ones.
“Is the daughter queen returned yet?” Beacon asked the older female, who was putting a kettle onto the warming stones of the hearth.
“She should be back sometime today,” the Arbora said, getting to her feet. “We thought she would come last night, but she must have decided not to fly in the storm.” She threw a quick opaque glance at Moon. “I know she would want to be here.”
“Did any visitors come last night, after we arrived?” The question was out before Moon realized he was going to ask it.
The Arbora blinked, surprised, but said readily, “No, no one’s come except you.”
Moon looked away. He hadn’t really expected a different answer.
Tempest sat on one of the benches, her tail folded neatly around her feet, watching them. She had slept in her Arbora form, but had put on her winged form again for the visitors. She said, “I want to see one of the queens, it doesn’t matter which.”
Her tone had an edge to it, and the Arbora woman looked up, startled. The younger Arbora, waiting beside the door, twitched uneasily, the silk of their robes whispering. Beacon folded her arms and seemed unmoved, but the other warriors radiated discomfort.
Tempest was treading a fine line, risking rudeness to the Arbora and an insult to Opal Night. She kept her spines down, but didn’t soften her voice. She said, “We have long days of travel to return to our court, and I’m anxious to discharge this burden. Will you take that message to your queen, whichever one is most concerned?”
This burden, Moon thought, his mouth twisting sardonically. He tried not to feel rejected by the comment. It wasn’t as if he was fond of Tempest.