Stone went with him, and when they reached the consorts’ hall, Moon found the young consorts of Malachite’s line, the ones descended from her long-dead sister queen, had moved back in. They were keeping Shade company in his bower, and watched Moon with wide-eyed curiosity and awe when he came to check on Shade. The fact that Shade was in the middle of the story of Moon ripping the underwater window open with Chime and Lithe’s help may have had something to do with that.
Moon found his temporary bower undisturbed, though Malachite had sent over some more clothes for him, which meant he was going to leave Opal Night with a lot more than he had arrived with. He was glad he had left the ivory disk that had belonged to his father behind in his pack. There had been too many chances to lose it on their adventures. He put it on now, looping the leather cord over his head.
Stone watched him do it but didn’t comment. As they settled down to sleep, he said, “It’ll be a relief to get home.”
Moon stretched out on the fur. “I hope nothing’s happened while we’ve been gone.”
Stone growled under his breath. “That’s what I said, too, coming back on that damn boat.”
“None of this was my fault,” Moon pointed out.
Stone made a noise eloquent of derision.
Moon woke sometime later, aware he hadn’t slept for very long. The air was filled with sound; the blended harmony of high and low notes, a chorus of voices. The Court of Opal Night was singing.
Moon slipped out of the furs, stepped around Stone, and went to the doorway.
The sound didn’t echo through the colony so much as fill all the available space like water poured into a bowl. He shouldn’t have been able to tell the source, but he could. It was coming from the colony’s central well.
He went down the corridor to the nearest opening, the one near the waterfall and the lake. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall in the shadows.
There was movement all through the well, the light from windows gleaming off scales or skin. All of Opal Night was gathered here, sitting on the terraced platforms or along the stones lining the water, clinging to the walls. Singing.
It was the first time the song didn’t sound frighteningly alien, didn’t seem like something foreign was trying to invade Moon’s mind. It sounded warm and welcoming and right. He could distinguish individual voices in the chorus, in a way he never had before at Indigo Cloud. He could hear Celadon, and Onyx, Umber. There was Shade, not far above Moon’s head, sitting in the window of his bower, the other consorts around him. He could tell which voices were Arbora, and pick out Feather and Lithe. And Malachite’s voice was woven all through the others, like a pillar supporting the rest of the colony.
Moon leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, and thought, All right, I get it now. And then he joined in.
They spent nearly a month at Opal Night.
It was a busy time, since Malachite wanted Moon to meet all the other members of his line that he was closely related to, which amounted to something close to three hundred Aeriat and Arbora. The delay also gave Auburn time to fulfill Chime’s request for a search of the Opal Night mentors’ libraries for any past stories of Arbora who had transformed into warriors.
When Moon asked Chime about it one night, Chime said, “There was only one story about it happening to a mentor, and that was nearly a hundred turns ago as far as Auburn could tell.” Chime sighed.
“And?” Moon prompted. Chime’s depressed expression was beginning to worry him.
“It didn’t go into a lot of detail, but it said her healing skills and ability to make heat and light never came back.”
“Oh.” Moon hadn’t realized that Chime had still been holding onto that hope. “But did it say anything about hearing things?”
Chime turned his teacup around. “It said that she got ‘older skills’ and her auguries were different, but ‘often useful.’”
“It sounds like they didn’t want to give much detail.” That wasn’t encouraging.
“Exactly. I think ‘older skills’ mean things that our Ancestors could do.” Chime shrugged uneasily. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t think I like our Ancestors much anymore.”
“You’re still you,” Moon pointed out. “And your older skills keep helping us stay alive.”
“However I got them.” Chime waved those words away. “I mean, I know I can still be useful, and I’m glad about that. I just wish I had more control over it. Though at least now I know I’m not some weird aberration, that this has happened before.” Chime didn’t look entirely cheered by that thought, but he did seem less worried.
They finally left for Indigo Cloud, and had a thankfully uneventful trip through the suspended forest. Days ago, Jade had sent a message through Opal Night’s allied courts, telling Pearl that they would be returning as soon as negotiations for Moon were completed. They had received a message back that all was well at Indigo Cloud, but it was still a relief to approach the colony tree on the repaired flying boat and see the platforms were all intact, the Arbora moving through the gardens and the warriors circling the clearing.
A dozen warriors landed on the boat to greet them, and Moon saw a couple members of the Islander crew exchange grins. He knew how they felt; he didn’t think he would ever get over the thrill of seeing a large group of Raksura in flight at once, either.
One of the young female warriors who had landed on the deck came to Jade, shifted to groundling, and said, “Jade, I need to tell you something.”
Moon knew she was one of the warriors attached to Jade’s faction and that her name was Serene, but he hadn’t spoken to her much. She looked worried, and he immediately noticed that Sand and some of Jade’s other warriors, while they greeted Balm, Chime, and Floret and the others, were clearly keeping an eye on Serene.
Jade took Serene’s arm and led her away a short distance to the far side of the boat. She didn’t object when Moon followed.
Serene lowered her voice to a whisper, “Pearl took Ember.” She winced in anticipation of Jade’s reaction.
“What?” Moon said. He stared at Jade.
Jade didn’t even seem surprised. “That’s all right; I expected it,” she assured Serene. “Everything’s fine. Tell the others.”
Serene let out her breath in relief and smiled. “Oh, good. We’ve been so worried, and no one wanted to tell you. We drew lots for it and I lost.” She shifted to her winged form and bounced over to the other warriors.
Jade seemed genuinely unconcerned. She told Moon, “If I hadn’t wanted it to happen, I would have brought him with me.”
“But… He’s a kid.”
“If he was still a child, Emerald Twilight wouldn’t have sent him.” At his expression, she said, “He’s sweet, and biddable, and comes from a prestigious bloodline. He’s exactly what she likes. It’s been turns and turns since Rain died, and when you showed up was the first time she’d expressed interest in another consort.”
“Expressed interest? Is that what you call it?”
“This is a good thing,” Jade told him. “Now Pearl will pay more attention to the colony. And mind her own business, instead of mine.”
Moon thought that was optimistic. And he also thought he would reserve judgment until he talked to Ember.
He didn’t see Ember until later that night.
The first thing Moon did was visit the nurseries. It was a relief that this homecoming was a good deal less fraught than the last one. Frost had taken this absence much better, apparently solely due to Jade’s explanation that she had to fight a rival over him. Once the hysterical joy of the fledglings and Arbora children had settled down a little, Moon sat with Bitter and Thorn in his lap and told a rapt Frost and the others the story of how Jade had fought other queens and Fell rulers and a progenitor for him, until his mother had finally agreed to allow her to formally take Moon as her consort.