Shade met his gaze, startled. Then he shifted.
Moon stayed in groundling form, and made himself look, really look. After a moment, it was clear Shade’s form wasn’t as much like a ruler’s as the first shocked glance had suggested.
He might be as big and muscular as a kethel’s groundling body, but his mass was more elegantly proportioned, an Aeriat Raksura’s proportions. He had scales, the correct deep black of a consort, but more reflective and without any color undersheen, or color banding on his claws. The scales seemed to stand out more, giving them a cursory resemblance to a ruler’s armor. He did have a ruler’s armored crest, but it was smaller, less prominent. He also had a substantial mane of spines and frills sprouting from the base of it, though it was hard to tell, since his spines were self-consciously flat at the moment. Moon was starting to realize what groundlings had felt like when they had caught glimpses of his shifted form and mistaken him for a Fell. “You don’t… I don’t know what you look like, but it’s not a ruler.”
That wasn’t the most coherent thing he could have said, but Shade seemed to understand. His large array of spines rippled in relief, and he showed Moon the underside of his forearm. “I have ridges on my scales.”
Moon leaned in to look, then took Shade’s arm and felt his scales. The texture was different, rough rather than smooth. Not unpleasant, just different. Moon stepped back, bumping into Chime who had been edging forward for a closer look. He asked Lithe, “Are you like this?”
She twitched a little nervously, but shifted. Her shape was like an Arbora’s, with no extra crest, spines, fangs, or bulk, but her scales were a consort’s black, and the same texture as Shade’s. She said, “The kethel just wanted Shade, not me. I don’t understand that.”
“You’re a crossbreed mentor,” Chime said. He didn’t seem as disturbed by Shade’s and Lithe’s appearance as he had before, and neither did Floret. Maybe they were taking Moon’s reaction as a guide, or maybe getting it out in the open and talking about it had been the right thing to do. Chime continued, “Maybe they’re afraid of you. They might think you could keep them from shifting, like the mentor-dakti did to us.” Lithe frowned, startled and thoughtful. Chime added hopefully, “Could you?”
That she might have this ability had clearly never occurred to Lithe. “I don’t think so.”
“But you haven’t tried?”
“Try,” Moon told her.
Above them the deck thumped, a much lighter sound than when the kethel had landed. Everyone’s gaze went to the hatch. Moon shifted to his winged form. This will be it. But there were no other thumps, no scratching on the deck as dakti landed. The ruler was approaching alone.
As it came down the steps, Moon recognized it. It was the older ruler who had been on the groundling bladder-boat.
Then the image of Liheas filled Moon’s memory, so vivid that bile rose in his throat. There had been no sign yet that this flight knew anything of the flight that had stalked Indigo Cloud and Sky Copper, but if they knew of that, or had had some connection…
The ruler said, “I am Thedes.” Its gaze went to Shade, a long penetrating study, then to Lithe, then back to Shade. “The progenitor would speak with the crossbreed consort.”
Shade’s spines trembled nervously, and he looked at Moon. The kethel saw Shade shift, and now they know which one of us they want, Moon thought. Shade said, “No.”
“You will not be harmed. Or touched.” There was no emotion in the words. Thedes might not have known what they meant. It didn’t inspire confidence in the truth of the statement.
Moon said, “Did you say that to the groundlings at Aventera?”
Thedes focused on Moon. There was a brief flicker of what might have been indulgent amusement in the dark eyes. Moon didn’t believe it. Thedes was old enough to know how to mimic emotions his prey might find reassuring. Thedes said, “They were groundlings. We don’t pretend they are people.”
“You don’t pretend we’re people, either.”
Thedes’s empty gaze returned to Shade. “We treat you as we treat each other.”
Moon swallowed a frustrated hiss. Trying to argue with that statement would be like fighting your way out of a branch spider’s web, mostly because it was probably true. The Fell didn’t treat each other gently, either.
The ruler waited for Moon to reply, then said to Shade, “We have let you keep your wounded, and the warriors and the mentor.” This was said as if it was a completely meaningless indulgence. “We have been generous and kind. You deserve our kindness.” He inclined his head toward Moon. “The older consort may accompany you.”
Moon didn’t let his spines flatten. He had been expecting a threat, and it wasn’t as if the Fell couldn’t drag them all out of the boat if they wanted. Shade glanced at Moon for help, and Moon flicked a spine in assent.
Shade said to the ruler. “I’ll go.” Then he steeled himself with obvious effort. “Moon doesn’t have to come with me.”
Moon knew he could tell himself he had to stay behind to help defend the wounded since Thedes’s word to spare them was worth less than nothing. But the idea of letting Shade walk out of here alone to face whatever he had to face made a painful knot in his chest. Shade might look like a predator, but he had been gently raised and protected and indulged, and he had little idea of what might happen. And Moon had been abandoned so many times, he just didn’t want Shade to know what that felt like. “I’ll go,” Moon said.
Shade tried not to react but a betraying ripple of relief fluttered through his spines.
Thedes turned away and started up the stairs. Moon stepped close to Floret and Chime and mouthed the words, “If we don’t come back, use the weapon.” Chime looked horrified but Floret nodded a determined assent. Then Moon and Shade followed Thedes.
As they reached the deck, Shade asked Thedes, “How did you know about me and the others? The crossbreeds? How did you know about what happened to Opal Night?”
“Our guide told us. When you see it, you will understand,” Thedes said, then sprang off the deck.
Shade threw a nervous glance at Moon. Moon tried to look reassuring, but thought the most he managed was grim resignation. They followed Thedes.
The ruler headed toward the large mass Moon had seen earlier, making his way over to it by springing to and from the web-like supports that stretched across the dim space. As Moon leapt after him, the sticky texture of the supports reminded him of the parasites’ webs inside the leviathan’s body; it made the skin creep under his scales.
They dropped down onto the top of the structure, and Moon realized it must be a nest. The surface was unpleasantly crunchy underfoot, and made of debris stuck together with the same secretions as the supports. The horrific smell was even worse, Fell stench combined with death and rotting plants. Following Thedes across the uneven surface, Moon saw deadfall wood of various trees, some with withered leaves still attached, hewn planks that might have come from dwellings or ships, bits of carved wood, broken metal fragments, torn cloth. And bones, he realized, as he stepped over something that looked very like a groundling’s ribcage.
There were more remains around the entrance, a round doorway in the top that led down into the structure. The bones weren’t ornamental, Moon decided as he climbed down the half-stair half-ladder of secretion-covered debris. The placement of long bones, skulls and jaw fragments was entirely random. He had seen kethel wear scalps or bones as decorations, but these looked like they were no more prized than the scrap wood.