Ennia seemed to feel all the awkwardness of the situation. “Celadon, after our last… I did not think you would come again. And in such a strange craft.” She looked almost warily at Delin.
Celadon kept her expression and her voice even and neutral. “It belongs to our friend, Delin-Evran-lindel, a scholar of the Golden Isles. He wishes to speak to you.”
Ennia nodded politely to Delin, but her expression was doubtful. “You are not…”
“A shapeshifter?” he said. “No, merely a friend to the Raksura.”
One of the other Aventerans said, “Being a friend to the Raksura seems to attract danger from other creatures, like the Fell.” Moon recognized him as Livan, the Aventerans’ shaman, or archimaster as Havram had called him. And Livan was being free with his opinions, considering until a few days ago he hadn’t heard of the Fell at all.
Delin eyed him thoughtfully, like Livan was a student who might possibly be worth the effort to instruct. He said, “Why do you say that? From what I understand, you are no friend to the Raksura, having ordered them out of your city after they rescued a child from a Fell ruler.”
Celadon flicked a spine, startled. Possibly because this was what she had wanted to say, and was surprised Delin had said it for her.
Ennia frowned at Livan, but Livan said, stiffly, “If they had never come to our city, the ruler would never have tried to injure the child.”
“No,” Delin admitted. “It would have hid among you until it was time to call down the others, attack your city, destroy it, and eat all your children, followed by all yourselves.”
There was an uneasy stir in the room, as if a wind colder than the draft from the balcony had blown through. Livan started to answer, but swallowed the words. No one argued. Something happened, Moon thought. After we left, something else happened. Maybe they would be willing to listen after all.
Delin must have expected a rebuttal, but didn’t let himself be thrown off course when it didn’t come. He continued, “I am from the Golden Isles, a small nation to the east, in what is often called the Yellow Sea. The court of Indigo Cloud once drove off an attempt by the Fell to assault our city, so we owe the Raksura our safety and continued existence.”
Celadon looked startled, as well she might, and was probably wondering why Moon hadn’t mentioned this to her before. Moon managed to keep his expression serious, though it was an effort. And people think I’m a liar. Delin wasn’t exactly lying, but exaggerating massively. He had made the incident sound like a Fell flight had descended on the Golden Isles with the intent to feed on the city, and had been driven off by a Raksuran court. Instead, one Fell ruler on an enslaved cloud-walker had followed Moon, Jade, and the warriors there, and had attacked the harbor when they arrived. The attack had ceased when Jade had killed the ruler.
But Ennia didn’t seem reassured by Delin’s version of the incident. Her expression tightened, as if she was suppressing some strong emotion. She said, in a low voice, “I see. You must have been very grateful.”
“Yes. One is, in such circumstances.” Delin seemed as puzzled by her reaction as Moon was. Persisting, he said, “The Fell are insidious creatures. In the lands to the east and the Abascene Peninsula, they are like the powerful storms that come in from the oceans, unpredictable, deadly, and inevitable. It is their nature to be predators, and parasites. You must understand that everything they do and say, everything they are, is bent toward that end. It is all they know.”
Ennia’s mouth set in a thin line, and there was despair in her expression. “I am beginning to realize that is true.”
Celadon’s eyes narrowed. She demanded, “What is it? What happened after we left?”
Ennia stepped back, and said, “I’m sorry.”
Moon heard a yell from somewhere outside and swung around in time to see an object like a dark cloud shoot through the air and strike the flying boat. The boat swayed over from the weight, but didn’t capsize. As it righted, Moon realized the object was a giant net. He hissed, to a chorus of shocked and angry growls from the warriors. Then a howl that sent a chill right through him shattered the air.
It was a major kethel.
Chapter Sixteen
Celadon rounded on Ennia with a snarl. “You’ll regret this.”
“I regret it now, but they took hostages,” Ennia said, still backing away. The other Aventerans scattered, some ran out of the room. “We had no choice.”
Celadon showed her fangs. “They’ll kill you all.”
“Fools!” Delin shouted, furious. “You could have spoken to us, warned us, we could have helped you—”
It’ll be dakti first, not rulers, Moon thought, looking frantically around. The rulers would know a queen was here and wouldn’t want to fight her until she had been worn down by the dakti. And they couldn’t count on Ivory and the others escaping the net that held the flying boat in time to help. He couldn’t scent anything, but then the room had been chosen for the draft of air blowing into the city, preventing them from detecting the Fell taint. Livan was the only Aventeran who hadn’t fled; he remained near Ennia, and he had lifted his hands and spoke in a soft voice.
Moon realized abruptly what that meant and flung himself forward. He rammed into Livan before the shaman could finish whatever magic he was making. Livan fell backward and struck the floor, and his head banged into the hard paving. Moon bounced to his feet as Celadon said, “This way!”
One of the warriors grabbed Delin and they bounded out into the hall. It was wide, with a few Aventerans huddled against the curving walls. One end was open to a stairwell, the other blocked by a set of closed doors.
Moon still couldn’t scent anything amid the confusing drafts, but he heard distinctive movement in the stairwell, the rush of leathery wings, the clack of claws. That would be the dakti swarm heading toward them. “They’re above us,” he said to Celadon.
She sprang to the doors. “We’ll try to go down and out. Remember the cargo shafts have openings to the outside.” She looked at the warriors. “Whoever makes it out, fly to the island to warn Malachite. Rime, hold onto the groundling.”
The warriors growled in grim assent. Delin wrapped his hands firmly around Rime’s collar flanges. “Don’t worry about me. Just go.”
Celadon jerked at the door handle, found it locked, and ripped the door off the wall.
She plunged out into the hall beyond, Moon and the warriors following. They slammed through a dozen Aventeran guards who must have been placed there to block their escape, then dove down a short stairway.
They bounded through a confusing maze of corridors, mostly unoccupied. They passed several startled groundlings, who were insane to be out in the halls instead of hiding inside locked rooms. But there had been activity out on the bladder-boat dock, on the balconies, and other bladder-boats in the air. I wonder how much of the city knows about the Fell trap, Moon thought, bouncing off a wall as he and Celadon careened around a corner. If Ennia and Havram and the other leaders hadn’t warned anyone, if the inhabitants of the city were unprepared… The Aventerans were going to pay for this, but it wouldn’t be the Raksura who exacted the price.
The Fell stench was in the air now, too much of it to tell a direction. Ahead the corridor opened into a large chamber, a market or gathering area like the one they had seen on their last visit here. Past Celadon, Moon glimpsed daylight coming through a line of pillars. But an instant later a dark shape blocked it and he saw scaled wings rise up. We’re dead, it’s a kethel, he thought, just as Celadon halted and snapped her wings out to stop the warriors, snarling, “Back the other way!”