seemed to be intrigued rather than frightened. How Stone could do this, Moon didn’t understand.
He hasn’t been alone forever, hasn’t been hunted, Moon thought. Maybe the caravaners felt it, and it made them unafraid. Of course, Stone could shift in an eye blink, and those arrows would do little damage to his hide.
Maybe Moon had just been doing it wrong all this time. Living in the wrong part of the Three Worlds, approaching groundlings in the wrong way, living a deception he couldn’t maintain. After a time, people sensed he was lying, and assumed he meant them harm. I don’t know. He sighed and rubbed his gritty eyes and wished Stone would hurry.
The women came over to sit by the fire and join the conversation. They wore the same clothes as the men, their breasts bare under the open coats, their hair worn straight and unbound to the waist. After a time, some of the younger girls even ventured to the edge of the camp, trying to coax Moon over. He sidled away along the wall when they came closer than twenty paces. Someone called them back and they retreated, giggling, the bells sewn into their clothes chiming as they ran.
Stone left them not long after night fell, coming back to the wall where Moon waited. “Was there news?” Moon asked, sounding deliberately skeptical. He unfolded his legs and jumped down off the road.
Stone took the steps. “There are rumors of Fell along the inland sea. They haven’t seen any, but they know caravaners and shipmasters who won’t go any further east than Demi now.” He sounded thoughtful. “For a couple of generations it seemed like they were dying out up this way. But now they’re moving around again, more active than they’ve been for twenty turns.”
Moon had never heard of Demi, which just told him how well and truly lost he was. He shrugged uncomfortably. “There’s Fell everywhere,” he said, as they walked away into the grass.
A few days later, Moon broke down and asked why Stone thought his mother had stolen him.
They sat on top of a broken pillar at least a hundred paces high and wider than one of the Sericans’ big wagons, listening to the wind rustle the tall grass. It was a comfortable perch for the night; dirt and grass had collected on the rough surface, making a soft carpet to sleep on. Moon could see hills in the distance, dark outlines against the star-filled sky; Stone had said Sky Copper lay among them and that they would reach it in another day or so.
Stone said slowly, “There’s what’s called a royal clutch. Five female Aeriat, born at the same time. As they grow into fledglings, one or two or three turn into queens and the rest become warriors. Sometimes the ones that turn out to be warriors... don’t get over the disappointment. It makes them do crazy things, sometimes. Like leave their court, steal clutches, or... other things.” He stirred a little uncomfortably, admitting, “It might have been something else. Sometimes colonies fail, and there were never many Raksura that far east where you were living. She could have been a survivor, trying to find somewhere to go.”
Moon thought it over, looking off across the plain. Insects sang in the dark, and the day’s heat still hung in the air. Further away, he could hear movement in the grass, low growls, carrion hunters coming for the carcass of the big furry grasseater they had eaten earlier. He had noticed that the big predators kept their distance; he thought there was something about Stone, even in groundling form, that warned them off.
Moon tried to remember if there had been any hint that his mother was running from something, or to something. It was long ago, and as a boy he hadn’t paid much attention to anything but playing and learning to fly and hunt. But he knew she hadn’t been crazy. And talking about it any more was pointless. “What makes queens so different?”
Stone stretched out on the grass and folded his hands on his chest, seeming content with the change
He hasn’t been alone forever, hasn’t been hunted, Moon thought. Maybe the caravaners felt it, and it made them unafraid. Of course, Stone could shift in an eye blink, and those arrows would do little damage to his hide.
Maybe Moon had just been doing it wrong all this time. Living in the wrong part of the Three Worlds, approaching groundlings in the wrong way, living a deception he couldn’t maintain. After a time, people sensed he was lying, and assumed he meant them harm. I don’t know. He sighed and rubbed his gritty eyes and wished Stone would hurry.
The women came over to sit by the fire and join the conversation. They wore the same clothes as the men, their breasts bare under the open coats, their hair worn straight and unbound to the waist. After a time, some of the younger girls even ventured to the edge of the camp, trying to coax Moon over. He sidled away along the wall when they came closer than twenty paces. Someone called them back and they retreated, giggling, the bells sewn into their clothes chiming as they ran.
Stone left them not long after night fell, coming back to the wall where Moon waited. “Was there news?” Moon asked, sounding deliberately skeptical. He unfolded his legs and jumped down off the road.
Stone took the steps. “There are rumors of Fell along the inland sea. They haven’t seen any, but they know caravaners and shipmasters who won’t go any further east than Demi now.” He sounded thoughtful. “For a couple of generations it seemed like they were dying out up this way. But now they’re moving around again, more active than they’ve been for twenty turns.”
Moon had never heard of Demi, which just told him how well and truly lost he was. He shrugged uncomfortably. “There’s Fell everywhere,” he said, as they walked away into the grass.
A few days later, Moon broke down and asked why Stone thought his mother had stolen him.
They sat on top of a broken pillar at least a hundred paces high and wider than one of the Sericans’ big wagons, listening to the wind rustle the tall grass. It was a comfortable perch for the night; dirt and grass had collected on the rough surface, making a soft carpet to sleep on. Moon could see hills in the distance, dark outlines against the star-filled sky; Stone had said Sky Copper lay among them and that they would reach it in another day or so.
Stone said slowly, “There’s what’s called a royal clutch. Five female Aeriat, born at the same time. As they grow into fledglings, one or two or three turn into queens and the rest become warriors. Sometimes the ones that turn out to be warriors... don’t get over the disappointment. It makes them do crazy things, sometimes. Like leave their court, steal clutches, or... other things.” He stirred a little uncomfortably, admitting, “It might have been something else. Sometimes colonies fail, and there were never many Raksura that far east where you were living. She could have been a survivor, trying to find somewhere to go.”
Moon thought it over, looking off across the plain. Insects sang in the dark, and the day’s heat still hung in the air. Further away, he could hear movement in the grass, low growls, carrion hunters coming for the carcass of the big furry grasseater they had eaten earlier. He had noticed that the big predators kept their distance; he thought there was something about Stone, even in groundling form, that warned them off.
Moon tried to remember if there had been any hint that his mother was running from something, or to something. It was long ago, and as a boy he hadn’t paid much attention to anything but playing and learning to fly and hunt. But he knew she hadn’t been crazy. And talking about it any more was pointless. “What makes queens so different?”
Stone stretched out on the grass and folded his hands on his chest, seeming content with the change
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