He crouched, braced to bolt in any direction, to the nearest exit or potential weapon. But she leapt up and away from him. She landed on an open balcony high in the wall and perched there.
Moon stepped back, wary, certain he was about to be assaulted somehow. This chamber was large and round, shadowy in its upper reaches, its walls twisted into a great spiral that seemed to stretch up some distance through the trunk. The spell-lights were polished white stones set into the wood, but only a few were lit, and it made the wall carvings blurred and indistinct. The doorways on this level and the open balconies above were just dark holes. He tried to shift again but it was no use. He was shivering from reaction, the chill of the fight-or-flight reflex that he couldn’t obey running unused through his veins.
Then he sensed movement behind him and spun around.
From somewhere above, a younger queen dropped down to land lightly on the floor. She was only a little taller than Moon, with green scales webbed with bronze. She started toward him and Moon jerked back with a warning hiss.
She held up her hands, claws retracted, palms out. “I’m your clutchmate, Celadon.”
Moon just stared at her. He hadn’t believed she existed. He hadn’t thought Lithe and Feather were lying, he just…hadn’t believed she really existed.
She moved toward him again and he fell back another step. She stopped, uncertain. “You don’t remember me.”
It took him a moment to realize he needed to answer her. “No.”
“I remember you. Not in much detail. Just flashes, images, your scent.” Celadon hesitated, her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”
That was a pointless question. Moon shook his head, exasperated, and looked up at Malachite. She was still on the balcony, looming over them. “What was that about?”
Celadon threw a dark glance upward. “That’s a good question.”
Malachite’s tail twitched. From the intensity of her dark green gaze, Moon suspected that was her equivalent of a lash of rage. She said, “Onyx knew better than to expose him to the court without my permission.”
“When were you planning to give permission?” Moon demanded. He was furious, he was frightened, he wasn’t sure why he wanted to provoke such an obviously dangerous queen, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “How long did you mean to keep me in an empty consorts’ hall?”
Malachite, oddly enough, just looked away. Celadon’s expression softened. She said, “She was waiting for me. She’s afraid.”
“Afraid?” Of me? Moon thought, bewildered. It couldn’t be any physical fear; Malachite was the most intimidating queen he had ever seen, including Ice of Emerald Twilight and Pearl. He could see how she might be afraid of him contaminating the other consorts, yes. But he didn’t see why or how that could make Malachite afraid to confront him. It certainly hadn’t bothered Onyx.
Malachite still wouldn’t look at him. Slowly, reluctantly, Celadon said, “There is something we need to tell you. To explain to you. I don’t know if—”
Rustling sounded from a passage on the far side of the room and a warrior bounded in, then halted and shifted to groundling when he saw Malachite and Celadon. He was an older male, worried and breathing hard from what must have been a very rapid journey through the colony. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to be disturbed. But there’s a line-grandfather at the colony’s entrance. A huge line-grandfather.”
It was possible that Moon’s heart actually stopped for a moment.
“A line-grandfather?” Celadon said. She threw a startled glance at Moon. “From where?”
“Indigo Cloud.” The warrior eyed Moon warily. “He says we have something that belongs to him, and if we don’t let him in, he’ll tear the place apart.”
Moon’s head swam and he suddenly found himself sitting on the floor, bracing himself to stay upright. The polished wood felt oddly warm under his hands, as if his body was way too cold. Celadon knelt in front of him and tried to peer into his face without touching him. “What’s wrong?”
He tried to say, “Nothing,” but he couldn’t even croak the word out. There was a commotion around him, he felt sick, then decided that maybe lying down flat was a better idea after all. After that, everything went black.
Moon came swimming up through darkness to realize someone was patting his face, gently enough but with a discernibly restrained violence, as if whoever it was would rather be slapping him. He was lying down, his head pillowed on someone’s boney thigh, surrounded by Stone’s scent. Stone was saying, “Moon, when did you last eat?”
“Um,” Moon managed to reply. His voice sounded dry and thick. “I don’t…”
“Idiot.” Stone got an arm under his shoulders and pulled him up to a sitting position, held him there when Moon nearly fell over forward. “Hand me that.”
“Hand you what?” Moon rasped, then someone else handed Stone a cup. Stone tasted it, grimaced, then pushed it into Moon’s hands and said, “Drink that.”
Moon took a sip, knowing Stone would pour it down his throat otherwise. It was warm, unpleasantly milky, and very dense. He made a noise of disgust. Stone growled. “Drink. It.”
Moon made himself take a few swallows. It was horrible, but it stayed down and it cleared his head. He blinked, realized that he was leaning against Stone, and that Celadon and Lithe the mentor crouched near them, watching with concern. Past them, Malachite paced the floor, tail sweeping back and forth, a dark presence.
“That should hold him until he can get some real food down,” Lithe said, sounding contrite. She was holding a blue stoneware jug, and from the unpleasant odor rising from it, it was the source of the drink in the cup. “I didn’t realize he wasn’t eating.”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Stone insisted.
Stone looked exactly the same as the last time Moon had seen him, when he had left with the others to take the Valendera and the Indala back to Niran’s family. Moon was so glad to see him he could throw his head back and howl. “I was trying to eat. I kept getting interrupted.” He tried to set the cup down and Stone handed it back to him. Moon took another swallow and winced. “I’ve gone longer than that without eating.”
“But you were upset,” Lithe said. “I’m sorry, I should have seen it.”
Moon had been upset and starving before, too. But maybe not this upset, not for a long time. “What happened?” he asked Stone. “Where is she?”
Stone didn’t have to ask who he meant. He said, “There was an accident. Everyone’s fine, but she was delayed. I’ll tell you later.” He looked at Malachite, his one-eyed gaze hard. “We could do this the easy way. Just let me take him back to his queen and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Moon was beginning to understand that Stone seemed to take a very different view of Opal Night’s claim on him than Tempest, Zephyr, Pearl, or Jade.
Malachite paused to regard Stone, her dark green eyes opaque. She said, “Your queen had no right to take him.”
Stone showed his teeth. “That might be true. But if we do it the easy way, then we don’t have to talk to other courts about your little problem.”
Malachite went still, though it was the stillness of a predator about to strike. Celadon’s expression twisted between resignation and anger. Lithe gasped and almost dropped the jug.
Malachite said, quietly, with menace, “How do you know about that?”
“I can smell it,” Stone said, holding her gaze. “It’s faint, but it’s there.”
Moon rubbed the haze out of his eyes, and looked hard at Stone’s expression. “Smell what?”