In the east, Moon’s shifted form had been mistaken for a Fell ruler more times than he could count. This creature was about the same size and color as a young Raksuran consort, but it had smoother scales and webbed, leathery wings. Instead of spines, a rigid bone crest fanned out behind its head.
Moon shifted in reflex as groundlings screamed. Stone ducked aside but the ruler slammed into him and knocked him over the railing as it leapt from the gallery. Stone hit the rock floor below and landed in an ungainly sprawl.
Celadon dove over the stair railing, claws outstretched, but the Fell’s tail whipped out of her grasp. She landed in a crouch and sprang after it.
Moon started for Stone first, but Stone waved him away, shouting, “Go, go after it!”
Moon spun and bolted after Celadon. An older, larger queen would be more than a match for a ruler, but with a young queen like Celadon it might get the upper hand.
He rounded the corner ahead in time to see Celadon disappear down a side passage, leaving a trail of shouting, terrified groundlings. Moon went down the passage in three long bounds and tore around the corner after her.
At the end of the corridor, over the heads of fleeing groundlings, he saw that the wall opened into a big hollow shaft with chains hanging down. The Fell climbed up them, Celadon in close pursuit. Moon leapt up to the gallery, raced along it to the end, then flung himself off the railing and into the shaft. He caught the chains and climbed after Celadon.
After a few moments he realized one of the chains was moving down and the other was moving up, and that the wood and metal ceiling overhead was coming toward them. This is a cargo lift. The Fell must have realized it too, as it leapt to a stationary chain hanging to the side of the shaft, a guide line for the platform coming closer and closer. Celadon followed, leaping to catch the swaying chain, and Moon leapt after her. His weight swung it even further and it bounced him off the wall.
Above, the ruler glanced down, snarled, and climbed the last few paces to the platform, caught the edge and slung itself over. A chorus of groundling shrieks erupted from overhead.
Moon followed Celadon over the edge, his claws scraping painfully on the platform’s metal surface. Bails and boxes were stacked on it, with three terrified Aventerans huddled together and staring in wide-eyed terror. One bigger man lay sprawled near them, breathing in choked gasps, bleeding from claw rips across the chest.
Fortunately the Fell had been too busy fleeing Celadon to stop and tear them all apart; it climbed the chains away from the platform, toward the square of daylight in the side of the shaft another hundred paces or so up. Celadon followed it and Moon followed her.
It reached the opening and vanished outside. Moon drew breath to shout a warning, but Celadon stopped just below the lip of the square doorway and clung to the chain; her tail lashed in frustration. Good, Moon thought in relief. Celadon was experienced enough to realize the Fell would be waiting above the opening to drop on her as soon as she came out. It knew the two of them could catch it in the air, so it had to kill or wound them before it flew away from the city. As Moon climbed up below her, she bent down to him and mouthed the words, “I’ll go out first. When he drops on me, you get him from behind.”
Moon had a better plan. He shook his head and mouthed back, “I’ll go first; you get him from behind.” She glared at him, baring her teeth. He persisted, “You’re stronger.” Celadon could rip the ruler’s head right off; Moon didn’t have that kind of upper body strength. The ruler might have time to bite Celadon’s throat out while Moon was trying to get his claws through its hide.
Celadon hesitated, then grimaced in frustration and motioned him to go.
Moon climbed around her and clung to the chain above her head. The view out the square window was of empty sky and the outer edge of the lake. Moon took a deep breath and flung himself off the chain, caught the edge of the opening, and dove out.
It would have worked, if Moon hadn’t been a consort. The ruler saw his black scales and twisted away, realizing there was a queen about to hit him from behind. Moon spun in midair, clawed for the ruler. The ruler yanked his wings out of Moon’s reach and dove past him.
Celadon shot out of the opening, snarling in thwarted fury, and passed Moon, who angled his wings and rolled to get reoriented. They were just below the curve of the giant statue’s shoulder, balconies dotting its chest below them.
Celadon tried to cut upward to get above the Fell but a powerful gust of wind tossed all three of them like leaves. Then patches of the rock facing on the statue exploded in little bursts of dusty fragments. What—Moon had time to think, then Celadon shouted, “Projectile weapons!”
Moon saw one of the flying bladder boats hung in the air several hundred paces off. Two groundlings were out on one of its balconies, pointing long tube-like weapons at them. Right, that’s all this situation needed.
The ruler realized it too, and angled into a steep dive. Moon banked down and saw it was headed for a balcony a couple of hundred paces straight down where several groundlings stood. As Moon dove after the ruler, he caught a glimpse of Havram and Ennia among the shocked, upraised faces. He had time for the sour thought, Maybe this will finally convince Havram.
Groundlings scattered and Ennia shoved Havram out of the way, but the ruler landed on the balcony and snatched one of the smaller Aventerans.
Moon hit the paving in a half crouch, braced to leap on the ruler. Celadon landed a few paces away. The ruler’s captive was a young male Aventeran, his expression terrified and desperate, his hands already bloody from his instinctive grab at the clawed fist around his throat. Moon glanced at Celadon. She was breathing hard, and from her narrowed eyes it was from rage rather than exertion. The ruler’s intent was clear. If they came at him, he would gut the boy.
The ruler said easily, “How unusual, to see a consort outside a court, only one young queen for protection. So vulnerable.” He was speaking in Kedaic, the way Fell always spoke the language of their prey.
Moon showed his fangs. This close, more sheltered from the wind, the Fell stench was thick. “Free the groundling and you can have me,” he said, not that he thought it would work. Presumably the ruler would realize that Moon hadn’t chased him through the city because he was reluctant to fight.
Celadon’s spines rattled in threat. She said, “Take us both.”
“Perhaps later.” The ruler laughed.
Behind them, Ennia said, “Free the boy, and we will not pursue you. Or you can have trade goods, precious metal. You know how wealthy we are—”
The ruler ignored her. He said to Moon, “You must not be a particularly valued consort, for a queen to use you as bait.”
Celadon hissed, but Moon had heard it too often to be bothered anymore. He made himself look away from the boy, whose gray skin was going white from shock, and focus on the ruler. Moon said, “You had the groundlings fooled until you ran. Your flight will be disappointed. You could have handed this city to them, and instead you’re going to die in it.”
“I told the groundlings nothing but the truth. They have nothing to fear from me.” Fell never admitted to lies, almost as if they thought truth was whatever they said it was; arguing with one about what was true and what wasn’t was as pointless as talking to a well. “And perhaps I have accomplished everything exactly as planned. I am Ivades. What court are you from?”
Celadon flicked a glance at Moon, and answered, “What does it matter to you?”
He’s young, Moon thought suddenly. The question had been too direct, not subtle enough. Young and curious and overconfident, bored with pretending to be a trader among people who had never heard of Fell before and were easy prey. If this flight came from the east, maybe this ruler’s never been this close to a Raksura before, let alone a consort. Surely they could use that, somehow.