Edge of Worlds (The Books of the Raksura) (31 page)

Moon flapped his wings hard, angling to get a boost from the wind, focused on Jade and the dark shape of the kethel above them. They had to get to it while it was distracted, before the dakti that were in the air somewhere could swarm them. From behind and further up a noise broke the silence, like a strangled growl. It echoed off the face of the escarpment, distorted by the wind. Moon thought it was Stone seizing a startled kethel by the throat and hoped it confused the rulers and dakti.

He sensed movement swoop toward them and Balm flashed by and slammed into a shape about her own size.
That was a ruler
, Moon thought. It took everything he had to keep flying after Jade, to not drop back to engage it. Root broke off and twisted after Balm, following her and the ruler down.

He heard River snarl, “Briar, on your right!” and the rest of the warriors broke off. Moon risked a glance back and saw distance-lights glowing from the flying boat, crossing back and forth in the sky.

The kethel above them reacted, but slowly, turning away from its course and back toward where Stone had attacked the first one.

Then Jade struck it in the throat. Moon struck it further down on the chest and gripped with his claws to hold on. It probably couldn’t feel him through its coat of heavy plate scales, but it could feel Jade. Kethel usually wore an armored collar, decorated with the bones of groundling victims. The kethel jerked its head and roared as Jade dug her claws in. Knowing he only had a few moments before a dakti swarm came to its aid, Moon scrambled up its body, around its shoulder, and onto its armored head. Then he stabbed his claws into its right eye.

It shrieked in agony and slammed its clawed hand up to swat him. Moon ripped its eyelid off to give it something else to worry about and jumped away.

He was facing toward the island and saw the moment when something big and dark flashed through the searching lights and struck the flying boat’s deck. Moon thought,
We found the third kethel
.

The roar of fire weapons sounded and a kethel bellowed in pain. Then something cracked inside the flying boat’s body and it suddenly bent double, with a terrible ripping sound and several loud metallic bangs. Moon tried to think who had said they would be staying on the flying boat, if Rorra might have gone back to it. Big wings flapped above the shape of the ridge, fire from the bow weapon ripped across the dark scales. The flying boat was going down but the kethel was going with it.
That kethel had to know ... It killed itself to wreck the boat ...

Then he sensed something diving toward him and twisted away. A ruler missed him by so little it brushed his spines. Moon flapped to recover his balance and a dakti struck him in the side. He ripped it in two and twisted again to meet the ruler rushing toward him. It grabbed for his throat and he caught its arms. Before it could pull him close, he brought both feet up and used his disemboweling claws for what they were meant for. The ruler made a strangled keening noise and Moon felt hot blood and guts wash over his feet. He jerked his claws free and dropped the ruler.

Moon turned and flew right into a swarm of dakti. They screamed in alarm as he tore through them, then they scattered, too disorganized to attack effectively. He couldn’t see Jade, couldn’t see the kethel he had partially blinded, couldn’t see the warriors. Then he realized one reason for the complete darkness was that the lights on the sunsailer had gone out.
Chime got there
, he thought in relief.

Then fire blossomed on the vessel’s deck. It illuminated a dozen groundling shapes standing near it. As they dodged away, the light shot upward, trailing sparks. High in the air it burst into pieces, erupting into a fountain of fire. It lit the sky, the ship, the beach and the water around them. Like one of the signal devices that the Golden Islanders used on their wind-ships, except far more powerful.

Dakti scattered away from the light, and Moon banked, trying to see the other kethel. Only one was visible, the smaller one that Moon and Jade had attacked. It curved around to dive at the sunsailer, just as another bundle of fire burst up off the deck.

This fire was smaller and faster and arrow-thin, and it arced up to hit the kethel right in the chest. It jerked and floundered in the air, its roar baffled and pain-filled.

Then a heavy body hit Moon from behind. He flared his spines and told himself
this is what you get for not paying attention
. He struck back with his feet and grabbed the arms that wrapped around him. Teeth scraped across his shoulder, his collar flanges preventing them from sinking in. Moon twisted and rolled, trying to dislodge the ruler, and on the second roll got a glimpse of a shape streaking toward him, the light from the first fire-blossom glinting off blue scales. He rolled again so his back and the ruler’s back were toward it.

The impact jolted his breath, and an instant later the ruler was snatched away. Moon twisted, flapped to get some height, and saw Jade in the process of tearing the ruler’s head off. Another ruler dove on her and Moon shot upward and ripped at his wing.

The ruler turned on him with a snarl. They struck at each other, grappled, broke apart, and struck again. This ruler was considerably older and smarter than the one Moon had ripped open. He was careful not to let Moon get too close, trying to wear him down. It was a good strategy; Moon was dangerously close to being worn down.

They were also both dropping rapidly toward the waves just off the beach. The last time Moon had fallen into water with a ruler it hadn’t gone well. He ducked a swipe to the head, twisted in and grabbed the ruler. Claws tore at his side but he managed one flap to push them further out and into the right position. Then he rolled to get on top and pulled his wings in.

They fell faster, the ruler unable to catch the wind from this angle. It released its grip on Moon, frantic to get away, and Moon held on harder. Just as they started to roll, Moon let go and shot his wings out, curving them to slow his fall. The ruler slammed into the deck of the sunsailer. Moon landed on top of him a moment later and used the instant of dazed distraction to rip the ruler’s throat out.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

M
oon straightened up out of a crouch, dripping with his own blood and the ruler’s, and saw he had an audience. The fire-blossom device pointed at the sky, illuminating the space above the sunsailer. In its reflected light, several Kish-Jandera, all holding the bulky tubes of the fire weapons, stood on the deck staring at him. They were all strangers, no one he recognized from the flying boat crew. No one shot at him, which was good.

The deck was littered with dead dakti, and Chime perched on the roof of a cabin, breathing hard from exertion. He called anxiously, “Are you all right?”

“Sure.” Moon lifted his right arm and hissed at the pain where the ruler’s claws had pierced his scales. Chime started to jump down to the deck, and Moon said, “No, stay up there. Can you see the others?”

Chime said, “Jade’s killing a ruler over by the wrecked flying boat. River and Song and Balm were fighting off a bunch of dakti toward the groundling camp, or that’s the last place I saw them. The last kethel flew away, and Stone went after it. I lost track of Root and Briar.”

Moon flicked his spines to show he had heard. He turned, trying to look up without using any muscles on the right side of his body. He couldn’t see much from this position, the glare of the light obscuring what moved in the darkness beyond it. Then a door behind him banged open and Kalam stepped out. One of the others called a warning to him but he ignored it and ran up to Moon. He said breathlessly, “Rorra’s on the upper deck. She saw you come down and said you were hurt.”

“No, well yes, but—” Ignoring Moon, Kalam pushed a folded cloth against the worst wound, pressing hard to stop the bleeding. Moon admitted, “All right, that’s actually a good idea. But if I tell you to run—”

“I will,” Kalam promised.

“I can’t see any more rulers or dakti in the air,” Chime reported from the cabin roof. “They might—Oh, Jade’s coming!”

Moon swayed, partly with relief. Careful to sheathe his claws, he put a hand on Kalam’s shoulder to steady himself. One of the Janderan stepped closer and said, “Kalam, you should back away—”

Kalam said, “Tell the physician to get down here. There must be other wounded out there, and on the airship.”

The Janderan hesitated, but then turned back to give the order. Jade banked overhead and spiraled down, the light glinting off her blue scales. Moon was starting to realize how lucky he was the Kishan hadn’t shot a fire weapon at him. They would have seen two nearly identical dark figures hurtling toward them.

Jade landed on the deck. She took in the dripping blood and the dead ruler. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Moon said. “Did you see Root and Briar?”

“They’re on the beach with Stone.” She leaned in to look and Kalam moved the pad so she could see the wound. She grimaced. “How many were aboard your flying boat? Do you know?”

Kalam answered, “There were five aboard. Is it destroyed?” He looked up at Jade, wincing in anticipation of the answer.

She shook her head. “It’s on the ground, but I didn’t get much of a look at it.”

Chime reported, “I see Balm coming this way.”

The cabin door banged open again, and Callumkal came out, followed by another Janderan. As they drew closer, Moon saw she was the healer, Serlam. Callumkal said, “On the beach—Were there survivors? We were lucky that most of the crew decided to sleep here tonight but there were five left on duty aboard—”

“Stone is there now and I’m about to go join him,” Jade said. “Tell your people not to shoot anything in that direction. The Fell are gone and Stone may have to lift the upper portion of the flying boat to look under it. If we find anyone, we’ll bring them here. Will you help Moon?”

“Yes, of course.” Callumkal hesitated, frowning, but apparently was only trying to consider the logistics of helping a person with spines on his back. “Can he change?”

Kalam peeked under the pad again. “He’s still bleeding, but not as badly.”

Jade’s gaze was worried, but Moon didn’t want to delay her. He said, “Kalam, step back.” He didn’t want to fall on him.

Kalam moved away, and Moon shifted. And then things got vague and dim, and his knees started to fold. Callumkal caught him and held him up, and Moon managed to at least look like he was still alert and conscious. “Go on,” he told Jade.

She stepped back, then took a running leap off the deck. Callumkal and Kalam guided Moon through the doorway and then down a wide corridor. Unlike the flying boat, the deck was wood and the walls a dull copper metal. The liquid light bubbles were built into the ceiling and nested in patches of moss.

They half-carried Moon into a cabin with wide padded benches built against the walls, and a braided grass rug on the deck. Callumkal lowered Moon down to the nearest bench. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.

Gripping the bench, Moon managed a nod. Callumkal took him at his word and left, hopefully to go back out on deck. Moon wanted him out there, keeping any of the nervous Kishan from overreacting and shooting a Raksura. Kalam reappeared, urging Moon to lie down, and stuffing a cushion under his head when he did. Moon pulled up his blood-soaked shirt to see the wound. Kalam made a noise of dismay.

“It looks worse than it is,” Moon tried to croak. He wasn’t in danger; it was just going to be painful until his body could heal it.

Serlam pulled Kalam away and sat down on the bench next to Moon. He hadn’t spoken much to her aboard the flying boat. She was one of the Janderan who had kept her distance. She said, “I don’t suppose you’re going to bite me.”

“Not unless you ask nicely,” Moon told her.

She blinked, then made a huffing noise he assumed was a laugh, and opened her satchel. “I’ve never treated one of you before. Can you tell me what I should do?”

“Just clean it.” She took a wad of folded cloth out of her satchel that smelled astringent. Moon set his jaw and didn’t flinch when she wiped away the blood. Her touch wasn’t rough, but she wasn’t as deft as Merit.

She finished cleaning the wounds, her expression still uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t sew this up?”

Moon was pretty damn sure. “It’s not bleeding anymore because underlayers of skin have already started closing up. It’ll be fine if I don’t rip it open again.” It wasn’t the explanation Merit would have given; Moon had made up the word underlayers himself to describe what he had noted about the way his deeper cuts and slashes healed.

She leaned close, frowning. “Hmm. All right, but I’m going to strap it, just to make sure.”

He let her bandage the bigger wounds, and endured questions like “is your skin supposed to be this hot?” when he had no idea if it was or not. It didn’t feel hot to him and no one else had ever seemed to think it was odd.

Then heavy steps and bumping in the corridor signaled the arrival of Kishan crew members carrying more wounded. “Are they from the flying boat?” Moon asked.

Serlam said, “I don’t know. I have to go. Try to rest, and I’ll check on you later,” collected her bag, and strode out.

Gritting his teeth, Moon levered himself up in time to see three Kish-Jandera carried past, one on a makeshift stretcher. From what he could see, their condition wasn’t good.

“He’s in here,” someone said, and Stone stepped into the cabin.

“What—” Moon grimaced as the slashes and punctures in his side stretched. “The Arbora and Delin?”

“They’re fine.” Stone sat on the bench next to Moon. “Bramble dug in under the tent, literally. There were three paces of sand on top of them. They were still digging out when I left.”

Moon sank back down onto the bench again, too relieved to comment. Whether it was fear or the Arbora talent for doing things thoroughly that had led them to dig so deep, he was glad Bramble hadn’t underestimated the Fell. “What happened at the flying boat?”

“It’s in pieces, and two Kishan were killed, Berkal and Lilan. They were running the big fire weapon that took out the kethel. Esankel was a little banged up, but the other two are in bad shape. The Fell got that smaller flying boat too, the one that was anchored on the island, but there was no one aboard it.” Frowning, Stone looked under the bandage. He tasted the air, possibly looking for scents of poison or infection. He didn’t look like he had been in battle with two kethel, except that maybe his skin was a little grayer than usual. “You need Merit?”