Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fern hurried to follow Moon down the passage that led to the gathering chamber. “Moon,” she hissed, trying not to draw attention from the other Raksura. For a moment she thought that Moon wouldn’t wait for her, but he paused long enough for her to get around and in front of him. “What’s going to happen in there?” she asked, certain that he knew more than she did. Moon huffed out a breath and pushed a hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know I have to do it.” 

“Do what?” Fern pressed. 

“Whatever happens, Fern,” Moon started, then leaned down to her and touched his forehead to hers. Fern felt like his bright green eyes bored straight through her. “Don’t involve yourself.” 

“No. Together,” Fern insisted, pulling away so she could grab his forearms in her tightest grip. 

Moon pulled out of her grip and put his hands on his shoulders. “Please, just stay with Flower--” 

“I will not!” Fern interrupted

“--and don’t draw any attention,” Moon finished. 

Fern didn’t realize she was biting her lower lip hard enough to pull off one of the lingering scabs from their final encounter with the Cordans until Moon cupped her cheeks in his palms. She’d forgotten how big his hands were and felt engulfed suddenly by his presence. 

“Fern,” he said, and closed his eyes briefly before arresting her with his eyes once more. “Please.” 

Unable to look away, Fern nodded reluctantly. “I’ll try not to draw attention to myself.” 

Moon nodded sharply, then spun Fern around by her shoulders, caught her hand, and walked determinedly down the passage with her in tow. Flower and Stone were waiting at the end of the passage, presumably for the two of them, standing to the side a little to allow others to pass by. “This is going to depend on a lot of things we have no control over,” Flower said quietly. Stone jerked his chin at Moon, and the two of them stepped past Flower into the central part of the chamber. 

Flower angled her head to Fern, and they walked closer in to the center, but stopped at some line of separation that only Flower and the others in attendance were aware of. The chamber itself was large and cavernous, with no openings to the outside except for a shaft up the center. Vines curled down the shaft, but Fern noticed a strange white moss on the leaves that didn’t look healthy. Raised platforms were all around the outside wall of the space, and everyone was in their groundling or softskinned forms. The few Aeriat were easy to spot, with their tall, lean frames either towering over the shorter Arbora, or grouped together on the raised platforms. 

Fern saw Balm on one of the platforms pacing back and forth and looking harried. A dark haired warrior looked to be glaring at Moon, and if Fern had her tail she would have been lashing it. A commotion occurred on the other side of Flower, and Fern realized Chime had pushed his way over to stand next to them. He leaned down and whispered something into Flower’s ear, but in the general chattering hubbub there was no chance Fern could overhear it. 

Then, in a wave, starting at a platform in the back of the chamber and rippling out, the Arbora and Aeriat quieted. The platform was in shadow, but a shape spilled off and down the floor. Fern had only seen the queen, Jade, sitting rather compactly in one spot, so she hadn’t gotten a sense of size. Additionally, everyone was larger than Fern, so up to a certain point it wasn’t worth measuring. But this queen, and she was definitely a queen, was huge, easily a head taller than the tallest Aeriat, with vibrantly gold scales and a contrasting web of dark indigo. Her spines and frills framed her head in a gold sunburst, and more frills were at the tips of her wings and tail. Fern hadn’t even known frills could grow on wings and tails. 

The queen - who could only be Pearl - stalked straight toward Moon. Like Jade, Pearl was wearing only jewelry; the reflections from the blue stones were dazzling. Fern could see Pearl’s influence pulse through the chamber, the way the Raksura reacted to her, almost leaning toward her. Fern swallowed hard, suddenly wishing Moon would grab her and bolt for the door. Moon’s shoulders and back were perfectly stiff and straight. Fern knew that pose. He wouldn’t back down from this, not for anything. 

The only way to get Moon out of here would be to grab him herself. Fern moved her weight forward and hissed when someone grabbed her shoulder and held her back. She swatted the offending hand away and realized it was Chime. His teeth were bared - no, gritted - at her and he looked from her to Moon and back imploringly. Fern gathered herself, ready to shift and launch herself at Chime when Flower gently caught Fern’s hand and very quietly said, “please, not right now, Fern,” directly into Fern’s ear. 

Fern realized that there was movement and conversation in the center of the chamber, that she’d missed something. She bared her teeth at Chime once more, then turned to listen. Flower’s delicate, elderly hand squeezed Fern’s fingers with surprising strength. Moon was standing closer to Pearl, having stepped forward away from Stone to within her reach. 

Pearl’s clawed hand was touching the back of Moon’s head, resting in his hair. Moon leaned closer in, as though captivated by her. The air felt so heavy Fern felt like she was being pressed into the floor. In a deep, husky voice, Pearl said, “This was the best you could do.” Flower’s hand slackened in surprise. Fern took the opportunity and tried to shift and -- couldn’t. This must be the queen’s power, keeping her from shifting. It didn’t feel like the Fell poison had, which left her feeling like shifting was across a wide chasm and completely out of reach, like needing to jump an impossible distance. This felt like there was a barrier between her and the ability to shift, like a thick wall reaching up out of sight.

Pearl added, “A solitary, with no bloodline.” 

Fern snarled aloud and launched herself forward, then the air was knocked from her lungs with a strong, sinewy arm around her waist. Peripherally, she was aware the arm belonged to Stone, who had moved to catch her faster than she thought possible. He lifted her off the ground and said, “Wait, just wait.”  

In the scuffle, Fern had missed Moon pulling away from Pearl. A group of warriors hissed from an upper platform, and Moon spun to hiss at them. They settled, and all Fern could think was how empty he looked. She needed to get to him, wrap him in her arms, make sure he knew he wasn't alone. He looked so lost and hurt. Stone sensed the fight leave Fern, and turned to put her feet back on the ground, keeping himself between her and Pearl. He turned to keep Fern at his back and said, loud and dry in the quiet chamber, “I didn’t bring him for you.” 

Fern could just barely see the edge of Pearl’s tail lashing from the gap between Stone’s arm and torso. “Solitaries live the way they do for a reason.”

Stone braced his palm on his hip, either to make a point, or give Fern a better view, she wasn’t sure. “They weren’t solitaries by choice. I told you how I found him.”

“And you have only his word for that.” Pearl stopped, half turning to show Stone her profile, as if she was reluctant to confront him. 

Moon was partially crouched, well out of arm's reach of Pearl, his jaw tight with embarrassment and shame. Flower’s hand clasped Fern’s again, and Fern did her best to take a deep breath. She was tired of feeling confused.

“And the word of a mentor,” Stone said.  

“What did you have to give him to bring him here?” Pearl said, as though Stone hadn’t spoken. Fern thought of the knife and blanket that Moon had rejected, and felt light headed with relief at his occasional self-preservation instincts. 

 “I’ve left gifts. He’s taken none of them.” That was Jade, her voice tinged with irony and controlled anger. Fern saw her drop from the ledge where she’d seen Balm. She paced toward Pearl, looking more like a predator with every controlled step. “The things he and the mentor accepted from the Arbora are only what they would give in hospitality to any visitor.” Her voice hardened into a snarl. “Try your claws on me, why don’t you.”

Wait, claws?

Stone’s arms snapped backwards to bracket Fern, and he tugged her tight against his back. She squirmed, and briefly thought about biting him on the hip. “This isn’t what we came here to discuss.” The deep reverberating grumble of Stone’s voice shook through Fern. She was reminded suddenly, viscerally, of every moment over the tens of turns that Moon had ever shoved her behind him to protect her. “The Arbora want to go to a new colony. Our lines haven’t flourished here, and you know it as well as the rest of us do. All the consorts of my line are dead, Rain is dead, and your last clutch didn’t survive to--”

“I don’t need you to remind me of that!” Pearl’s voice thundered. 

Voice even, as though unaffected by her anger, Stone said, “Then what do you need?”

“We have too many Arbora and too few Aeriat. We can’t leave this place, not now. I’ve waited too long. I take the blame for that.” Fern held in a snort. As though taking the blame for something takes away its damage , she thought. Pearl continued, “I was told about the Arbora who came with the consort. You couldn’t even bring back what you promised me the last time you left--” 

“It’s not too late,” Flower interrupted. Fern couldn’t help but tense in the circle of Stone’s arm as he pulled her around him and tucked her against his side. Flower looked delicate and fragile standing in front of Pearl, but Pearl’s spines and frills settled closer to her skull, and Stone’s grip on Fern relaxed. Flower had captured the attention of everyone in the chamber, and Fern realized this was the power of a mentor. The power to capture attention and speak measured truth. “There are ways around the lack of Aeriat. We don’t all have to go at once. We can make the journey in stages.”

“It’s too dangerous. We would die in stages.” 

His voice tight - either with irritation or resignation - Stone said, “We’re dying here.”

Pearl’s eyes flicked to Fern. Her spines, which were starting to flare, paused. Her eyes narrowed in surprise. “What do you want from me?” Pearl asked. For a moment Fern thought Pearl was talking to her, caught in the depths of her sky blue eyes. 

“You know what I want.” Stone said, shocking Fern from her daze. His words hovered in the air and Fern’s scalp prickled. “But, I’ll settle for your word that you’ll agree to move the court if I can get the means to transport the Arbora safely.”

Pearl laughed without humor, her voice disdainful as she said, “You left to bring warriors, and you brought back a solitary consort and a feral child. There are no other means. I think your mind has finally turned.”

Fern looked up from under Stone’s arm and saw as he bared his teeth in a predatory smile. Moon took a half step further away and a ripple of unease moved through the onlookers. Fern felt powerful, suddenly, energized and ready to do anything, shred anything, to protect her two consorts. 

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Stone said.

Pearl looked back at Moon, as though his movement reminded her of his existence. “I want your solitaries gone from my court.” 

Moon’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Pearl, and Fern realized he was trying to shift, even with Pearl’s influence. She could feel him gathering himself, readying to throw himself against the wall Pearl’s power used to separate him from shifting. Fern focused, throwing her weight behind his, ripping and smashing against the wall. She breathed deeply, and pushed for her shifted form. 

 “Then make us leave,” Moon snarled in the deeper rasp of his shifted voice. Stone twitched and his arm over Fern wobbled. Fern shook her head to settle the spines she knew she didn’t have in her softskinned form, and a murmur of surprise burst out around her. The hard pressure of her spines, and light flutter of her frills, brushed against her still-softskinned shoulders. What? A wave of dizziness swept over her, and a roughly calloused hand caught her elbow. She wanted nothing more than to sit down, so she did, hard, her knees folding under her. 

The people around her scattered as a familiar snarl echoed over her head and safesafesafe arms scooped her up. Fern was aware of rapid movement as Moon strode out of the gathering hall, holding her tight to his chest. She held tight around his neck, breathing hard, a headache pounding behind her eyes. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he knelt down, shifted back to his groundling form, and cradled her in his lap. 

“I guess that answers the question of if we fit in,” he said, bitterly. 

“I guess so,” Fern agreed.

Chapter Text

Moon jostled Fern, and she opened her eyes reluctantly. They were sitting in the soft grass of the teacher’s court, next to one of the moss-covered pillars. Fern couldn’t help but grimace when Stone landed and crushed some bushes with his great, dark form, carrying Flower in one huge clawed hand. He set Flower gently on her feet and then shifted to groundling.

Fern rubbed her gritty eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head was still pounding. She ran her hands through her hair and didn’t feel any spines or frills. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the feeling of spines and frills against her shoulders.  

“That went well,” Flower said dryly, as she and Stone started toward Moon and Fern. Flower winced. “Moon, you’re still bleeding.”

“What?” Fern sat up from Moon’s lap so quickly she nearly smacked him in the nose with a flailing arm. Moon grunted, twitching away and trying to stabilize her as she lumbered up. She leaned heavily against one of his shoulders, her equilibrium spinning. A hand came in out of her peripheral vision and she batted it away with a half-voiced snarl. She felt Moon’s hands wrap around each of her calves and hold her steady. 

“Stop that,” Stone’s voice said, “and, Moon, don’t shift.” A firm, nearly painful grip held her upper arm and kept her from overbalancing to the side and back into Moon’s lap. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Moon huffed. Then, “Fern, breathe.”

Remembering that Pearl had cupped the back of Moon’s head with one clawed hand, Fern patted through Moon’s hair, pushing his forehead down to get a better look under his hair. Sure enough, there were some shallow cuts on the back of his neck. Her vision swam and Fern felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine. 

Everything felt like it had flipped upside down. She felt Stone’s other hand stabilize her from the other side and he pressed her down to sit on the grass. He lowered himself down next to her with a small grunt, then held an arm out, and, against her better judgment she leaned against him. He wrapped his arm around her. Her head throbbed. 

Flower said, “Here, Moon, hold this on the back of your neck,” and held out a damp, earthy smelling cloth to him. Moon took the cloth tentatively, pulled his hair aside, and held the cloth to his neck. 

Fern felt Stone’s heart beating steadily next to her ear. He said, quietly. “Pearl isn’t-- It isn’t supposed to be that way.” 

Moon’s jaw tightened. “You said she was sick, not…” his voice trailed off. “What’s wrong with her?” 

“We don’t know,” Flower said. She leaned over Moon, lifting the edge of the cloth on his neck to check underneath, then pressed it firmly against his skin again. “I don’t think it’s disease,” Flower continued, then breathed gustily. “Maybe all the loss. Her last two clutches, which should have given us consorts - and sister queens for Jade - were stillborn. Then Rain died. He was the last of the consorts of her generation.”

“It isn’t always this bad.” Stone sighed. “She was better yesterday.” 

Flower lifted the cloth from the back of Moon’s neck, then stood up straight and leaned against the pillar. 

Fern tried to slough off the unsettled static in her mind. “Moon, are you…?” Moon turned to show her the back of his neck, and what were once open cuts were now, amazingly, scabbed over. “How?” she asked, looking up at Flower. 

“This is part of what mentors do,” Stone said wryly. “Healing simples.” 

“So this whole time I could have just healed us anytime we were hurt?” Fern tried to shove the bitterness down, out of sight. 

Flower said gently. “It takes teaching, skill, and practice. Some mentors don’t have as much of a knack for it than others.”

Muttered noise and general sounds of people made Fern realize the Arbora were beginning to return to the court and were talking in soft, worried voices. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she thought about the lost and empty look on Moon's face after Pearl had insulted him. She had a sudden urge to rip a grasseater apart with her claws.

Stone said, “We need to make plans,” which shook Fern from her thoughts. “Send someone to get the maps.”

“Petal already has,” Flower said. She looked meaningfully at Fern. “I’m going to make some tea. Don’t get up just yet.” She took the bloody cloth with her.

Moon watched her go, then caught Fern’s eyes. His gaze was pinched, tired, and filled with something she hadn’t seen in turns and turns. Fern rubbed her forehead. 

“Does your head hurt?” Moon asked. Of course, he’d noticed her headache. 

“Not as much as before,” she hedged. Stone snorted, and she tried to subtly dig her elbow into his side. He squeezed her, taking away any leveraged pressure she could manage. 

Stone said, “Are you staying?” 

Moon’s nose wrinkled, a face Fern was used to seeing when innkeepers implied he couldn’t pay for or work off a night’s stay. “I said we would,” he grumbled.

Fern looked up at Stone, and couldn’t really tell what his expression was. “Yes, you did,” Stone allowed. He looked over toward the common area. Fern decided she didn’t want Flower to bring the tea out to the open area, and leveraged herself up carefully. Her balance definitely felt better. 

Moon and Stone stood together, and Moon caught Fern’s hand, gripping it tightly. They followed Stone into the common room, and Fern avoided the many sideways glances from the Arbora as they walked. Petal, Rill, and other Arbora were moving cushions and mats from the center of the room to the outside edges, clearing a large floor space in the center. More Arbora came in, including Bone, Knell, and a few uneasy-looking warriors trailed in after Balm. 

Fern chose a spot by a small stack of cushions, trying to decide if she wanted to sit and thinking it might draw attention. She blinked, and suddenly Flower was in front of her, pressing a cup of tea into her hands, before moving on to give similar tea cups to Bone and a few other Arbora. 

Then Bell and Chime walked in, carrying a large rolled hide, and Fern understood the need for the clear floor. She had expected a paper map, similar to what she saw traveling merchants or other races use in larger settlements. She leaned in curiously as they unrolled the huge pelt onto the floor. It was easily twelve paces across. The map was drawn in confident, broad strokes, in various colors of ink, depicting a vast distance across the Three Worlds, with rivers, mountains, and other landmarks noted with labels in curving glyphs she couldn’t read. Fern had never seen such a detailed or far-ranging map before. Moon stepped forward, and she could tell he was tracking the journey they had taken from the Cordans’ camp and across the mountains. 

She reluctantly took a step toward the map as well, afraid of spilling her tea onto such a beautiful canvas. She thought she could see the gulf of the Abascene and the coast north of the gulf, but she had to blink several times to clear the blurry sparkles shimmering at the edges of her vision. Stone stepped directly onto the map, and Fern held back a squeak of horror, trusting that he wouldn’t do so unless it was treated with something to prevent staining. 

“We’re here,” Stone said, tapping an icon with one foot, a pointed shape next to the blue curve of a river. Fern noticed the white fluff of Flower’s hair, and a pair of annoyed eyes, a moment before Flower’s pale hand nudged her cup of tea. Fern hurriedly took a sip, savoring the warmth, and she felt the pressure behind her eyes almost immediately ease.

Simples and concoctions like this would have made everything different for her and Moon over the turns. He had broken a small bone in one of his wings once, fending off a massive branchspider, and they had crammed themselves into a hollow tree - Moon shivering and sick, Fern a panicked mess of nerves that he would shift too soon and cripple himself. They had waited three days, a rainstorm pelting down the whole time, for the bone to heal enough that he could shift back to groundling without the injury transferring to his spine or arm or collarbone. 

A chorus of disgruntled and offended hissing startled Fern out of her thoughts. She twitched, and looked around self-consciously, but everyone was looking at Bone. Stone’s expression was bored. “And we could all eat each other before the Fell arrive. That would solve our problems, too.”  Bone pressed his lips together, as though he was trying to hide a smile, and Fern wished she’d been paying attention. 

“Now that we’re done with the daft suggestions,” Flower said, “does anyone have something sensible to say?” 

Moon crouched over the map, one hand above a complicated series of glyphs. He looked at Fern, then to Stone, “You’re thinking of something to transport everyone in?” 

“Like a boat,” Fern blurted, thinking of a race of tentacled people with carriage be-decked birds. 

“What’s a boat?” one of the warriors asked. While Petal answered the question, Moon’s head tipped up in the way it usually did when he was rolling his eyes. Fern took a sip of her tea and avoided all the eyes looking at her.

“Like a boat,” Stone agreed, turning to take another pace across the map. “You ever heard of the Yellow Sea?”

“Yes,” Fern said, thinking of a shop with brilliantly colored bolts of fabric stacked and leaning against shelves. Moon looked at her curiously, his head tilted. “There’s something in the water that makes everything - plants, sand, minerals - yellow. Good for dyes.” Understanding flashed in his eyes, and he turned his attention back to Stone. 

“There’s a groundling kingdom there,” Stone said, nudging a spot on the map. Sure enough, there was a blue line of a river emptying into a splash of yellow. “The sea is shallow, too shallow for most boats that float in the water, but the people there are a remnant of one of the flying island empires. They have flying boats, and Raksura have traded with them before. I’ve been there a few times. It’s not a hard flight.”

Flower nodded slowly. “That could work. If the flying boat is large enough.” She looked consideringly at Stone. “How long have you been thinking of this?” 

“Not long,” Stone said, and nodded toward Moon and Fern. “I got the idea from the books in your flying island.”

Fern scoffed, “It was more your island than ours, what with the way you--”

“You want to transport the Arbora in a flying boat?” one of the Arbora interrupted, staring at Stone in a mix of horror and disgust. Knell, Fern thought his name was, and glared at him. 

Stone lifted his eyebrows, gaze flashing to Fern briefly in a look that said you know exactly how stupid you’re being right now and I’m not dealing with it . He leveled that same gaze at Knell, just long enough to make the atmosphere uncomfortable. “Why not?” 

“I don’t know,” Knell said, gesturing helplessly. “It sounds crazy.” 

Bone made a noise terribly close to a laugh, and didn’t bother disguising it. 

“We could be attacked while we’re moving,” an uncertain voice said from a grouping of three warriors. 

Flower bit her lip, looking down at the swirl of yellow on the map. “We can be attacked no matter how we travel. This way, we can move all at once, and the warriors would be free to fight.” 

“And we can bring more of our belongings,” Petal said hopefully. She was seated at the edge of the map, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Like the anvils for metal-working. I couldn’t think how we were going to move them.” A murmur of excited agreement moved through the room. 

“How do we get the boats?” a different, young male warrior said. “Steal them?” 

Fern resisted the urge to cradle her face in her hands, and managed to keep herself to only putting one hand over her eyes and taking another deep sip of tea. 

“You buy them,” Moon said, exasperated. 

Fern lowered her hand, trying her best to keep her voice even. “Stone already said they’re open to trading. You’ve got silk, cloth, furs, metal, gems. That’s usable currency no matter where you go.” 

Stone’s unimpressed look moved from Knell to the young warrior, who visibly wilted under his gaze. “We’re going to bargain just for use of the boats. It’s not like we’ll need the things after we get where we’re going.” 

Flower’s stooped pose straightened. She looked not only taller, but a little less old. “We have to try. Will you go to speak to them?” 

“I’ll go,” Jade said from the outer doorway. Her wings were slumped and her spines were flat with weariness, but her eyes were bright and determined. Moon shifted his weight, moving to face her more directly. Jade flicked her eyes to him, then focused on Stone. “You should stay here, in case the Fell return.” She looked directly at Fern and said, “You said you’d heard of the Yellow Sea - have you been there?” 

“No,” Fern said, “but I’ve met a representative - a trader - at a city further east.” 

“Solace and Sable,” Jade continued, “a sister queen and her consort from an earlier generation, went there to trade. I’ve heard the stories.” Fern knew she was talking to her and to Moon; everyone else likely knew the story already. 

How many stories and pieces of culture did she and Moon not know? She didn’t remember any stories from Sorrow, but maybe they had been too young to remember. Her earliest memories were more about feelings - cuddling with her brothers, playing with her brothers, Sorrow’s arms wrapped around her- than anything specific. The room suddenly went quiet, and Fern twitched in embarrassment. Pay attention! she scolded herself. 

Moon turned to look at Fern, and he blinked a few times. Heat rose in her cheeks and she just knew he could tell that she hadn’t heard any of what just happened. “We’ll go,” he said, and Fern felt a collective sigh of relief sweep through the room. 

Fern kept her face as carefully blank as she could while she took the last gulping sip of tea. Based on the conversation, and the stiffness in Moon’s spine, she thought it was reasonable to guess that she, Moon, and Jade would be going to the Yellow Sea together. Perhaps it was normal for queens and consorts to travel for trade? 

Chime said, “Has anyone thought about the fact that even if we get the boats, Pearl didn’t agree to leave?” 

Stone’s gaze was on the map as he said, “Yes, we’ve thought of that. I’ll take care of it.” There was a brief shuffling throughout the room. 

Flower settled onto a cushion, one hand thoughtfully tapping her chin, and said, “Which warriors will be going?” 

Moon stepped in front of Fern, practically looming over her, and gently took the tea cup from her hands. Softly, in Hassi, she whispered, “Sorry.” He shook his head and tucked her gently under one arm, guiding her toward the open doorway to the outer courtyard. He settled on a cushion, tugging Fern down with him. 

“Your head any better?” he said softly. Fern nodded, her cheek rubbing against the smooth embroidery of his sleeve, feeling small and useless. “Close your eyes and rest,” he instructed, pulling her down further and covering her eyes with one hand. She tried to listen to the rest of the discussion, because apparently warriors would be traveling with them and she’d already missed that part. 

“Rest,” Moon said again. The murmured conversation washed over her until everything felt quiet and calm. 

Chapter Text

Gentle movement, an arm under her legs, and Fern blinked awake. Her cheek was pressed against Moon’s chest, and she could tell he was walking somewhere, his long legs eating the distance as he moved through the colony. “You can go back to sleep,” he said quietly, ducking his head into her hair. 

“No,” Fern said, stifling a yawn. “I’m awake. You can put me down. Where are we going?” 

Moon carefully set her down, steading her with a hand on each shoulder. “I was going to take you back to the bower so you can rest, and I--" he paused, blinking rapidly. 

“Go,” Fern said, recognizing the look. That wide-eyed expression usually preceded him finding a tall tree and dangling upside from the highest branch by his tail until he looked a little less like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. “I’m feeling much better already,” she reassured him. 

“I-- I had to say that we would go. To the Yellow Sea.” He said.

“I know,” Fern said. “It’s the right thing to do. We’ll go together. How long was I asleep?”

Moon ducked his head in relief. “Not long,” he answered. 

Fern gripped one of his wrists and tapped twice. “You should go find somewhere to think.” She knew from experience that keeping him from this would only make things worse in the long run. 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” To prove her point, she looked around, recognizing where they were, and walked deliberately in the direction of the crafting hall that Bone had showed her. 

Fern glanced over her shoulder at Moon and smiled encouragingly. He dipped his head, and headed for the stairs that led toward the upper levels of the colony. Once he was out of sight, she leaned against a wall, took a deep breath, and let it out gustily. A few of the other Raksura around her did their best to pretend they weren’t watching her. 

She wanted to find and talk to Flower, wanted to ask Chime if he was sure he didn’t know how he’d turned into a warrior. She wanted to talk to Stone about the royal clutch from Sky Copper, and she wanted to ask literally anyone - except maybe Chime - which warriors would be traveling with them to the Yellow Sea. Then, she saw Flower’s fluffy white hair, and the decision was made for her. She ducked around the few other people in the hall, until she was close enough to Flower to say her name quietly enough not to draw attention from others, but loudly enough for Flower to hear. 

Flower turned, a pleasant and open expression on her face, though her eyes were pinched a bit with surprise. “Fern, I was hoping to see you. I’m sorry the grenilvine tea made you sleepy. It happens with some, but usually passes quickly. How are you feeling?”

“My head pain, and the dizziness, are both improved. Thank you.” Fern licked her lips, suddenly unsure of what to say. “I was wondering if we could, that is… am I really a mentor?” 

Flower tilted her head, indicating a hallway, “I was on my way to the south facing platform to augur the prospects when you leave tomorrow morning for the Golden Isles, but that can wait. Will you come to my bower with me to talk?” 

Fern gripped interlaced her fingers behind her back to keep her hands from shaking. “Yes, I’d like that.” 

***

Flower’s bower was like the one Fern and Moon had been loaned, though it had more obvious personal changes, including a bower bed secured in such a way that it hovered much lower to the floor. There was a small area with cushions and a low table, just enough space for two people, maybe three if they were willing to be cozy. Flower gestured for Fern to take a seat on one of the cushions, then busied herself rifling through the baskets on the other side of the room. She pulled a small object out; it looked like a hide-bound packet with a string tying it closed. 

Fern curled her legs under herself, kneeling, and twisted her hands together under the table out of sight. Flower settled on the other cushion and placed the packet on the table, unwinding the string. The leather-like hide was scraped, battered, and a bit stained. Fern wondered if it was more tea, or perhaps supplies used to test mentor aptitude. Then Flower finished opening the packet and Fern’s heart sank, a disappointing, heavy lump sitting deep in her belly. It was a book. 

Flower flipped through the pages until she came to a specific section. 

“I don’t need to read this, mind you, to jog my memory,” she said, a teasing warmth in her voice. “But it occurred to me that it might seem a bit strange, and you may find yourself referring to this text, or one like it, as time goes on.” She spun the book on the table, presumably so the text was right side up from Fern’s perspective. Fern gripped her fingers together and looked down, hoping that Altanic or even Kedaic would be on the pages. Instead, a flowing, almost cramped script greeted her eyes. It reminded her of some of the glyphs she had seen on the large map, but instead of all individual symbols it was as if all the letters merged together. 

Fern purposefully squinted, moving her eyes across the page. “Ah, I see,” she said, when her eyes were about halfway down the page. She glanced up, keeping her face carefully neutral, and tried to quirk her mouth up in a small smile. 

A crease appeared between Flower’s eyebrows. She glanced down at the pages, then up at Fern, before pulling in a careful breath. “I’m sorry, Fern. I should have realized.” 

“Realized what?” Fern tried for a cheerful tone, but instead her voice was bitter. 

Flower reached out, and carefully closed the book. “May I hold your hands?” 

Fern pressed her lips together, and raised her shaking hands to the tabletop. Flower gripped both of her hands in a surprisingly firm grip. “It is not your fault,” Flower said forcefully. “I do not judge you for not knowing, not being taught, how to read Raksuran. I should have thought of it. Stone told me the warrior who raised you died when you were quite young, along with three other Arbora children. If she was escaping some disaster, and grabbed you and as many others as she could, she was likely more focused on keeping you alive.” 

Fern looked away from Flower’s sincere gaze. “I can read Altanic, Kediac, Hassi, and bits and pieces in a few other languages. I worked in a tailoring shop and can do arithmetic. Our mother - Sorrow -  taught us how to speak Raksuran and how to survive. She did the best she could. She loved us, and even if Stone doesn’t think so, I know she didn’t steal us.” 

“I’m certain she didn’t,” Flower said firmly. “Stone said you had an augury before telling him so.” 

“It’s the reason he thinks I’m a mentor,” Fern admitted. “It’s happened three times in my life, that I can remember at least. After that one, it was about the Fell taking the Sky Copper clutch.” 

“And the first, can you tell me about that?” Flower asked gently.

“It was,” Fern swallowed. “It was brief, and about something that happened to Moon. It wasn’t helpful, because I saw it months after it had happened, and I was with him when most of it happened. So, all it did was give me the same memory, just from his point of view.” 

Flower tapped her chin in contemplation. “Were any of the feelings surrounding the moments you augured similar?” 

Fern didn’t want to think of them. Touching those memories felt raw, covered in hopelessness and loneliness. “I don’t… does this help us know if I’m a mentor?” 

Flower squeezed Fern’s hands and accepted the subject change easily. “As I mentioned before, different mentors can have different aptitudes. Some for healing, others for augury, and some for the kinds of things that keep the colony functional and working well, like imbuing objects with heat and light.” 

“I’ve never noticed anything other than bad dreams that sometimes come true,” Fern said, thinking of wings in the sky and smoke in her nostrils. 

“I think there’s more than that,” Flower said thoughtfully. “Queens are born with power and the skill to use it. Mentors are born with it as well, but the skill is honed over time. A consort’s power comes with age. When Moon spoke in his shifted voice to Pearl, and you shifted partially - only a consort coming into maturity could have done that. And a mentor with a certain level of skill.” 

Fern shook her head. “Stone behaves as though I might burst into flame or something terrible if I’m not trained, and he’s got Moon worried about it too. I don’t know how long,” she cut herself off. 

Flower smiled fondly. “Stone does have a flair for the dramatic. It’s part of being a consort, some would say.” Fern perked up, taking a breath to speak, but Flower held up a hand, and settled begrudgingly. “But he isn’t entirely wrong. An experience that removes anyone from awareness of their surroundings can be dangerous. An augury like that has happened several times for me - a strong series of flashes of future possibilities - but I’m still aware of where I am and who I am talking to. I can teach you techniques to keep you grounded in the present and in your own sense of self, so you aren’t swept away, or caused physical discomfort, by those impressions. And yes, you are definitely a mentor - that isn't in doubt.” 

Fern thought of her pounding heart and overwhelming nausea after seeing the Sky Copper clutch taken by the Fell, and grimaced. “I can see how that would help. How long will it take, to learn at least that?” 

“We can start now,” Flower said. 

***

Flower had given her the option of either a “sitting” meditation or a “moving” meditation, and Fern had opted for moving. Fern wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed; she was sweaty but feeling both settled and energized. Flower had Fern stand in the widest part of the bower while Flower held her mentor book open on her lap and read out a series of arm, leg, and torso movements, with emphasis on specific moments in time to breathe. At one point, Flower handed Fern a length of cord, and she had held each end of the cord taut between her two hands, while twisting her torso in slow movements and keeping her legs bent. 

She had never done anything quite like it, but her hands had gone from shaking with nerves to shaking with a satisfying kind of muscle fatigue. Fern couldn’t remember the last time she felt so present in her own skin that didn’t feel smothering or like a trap. Maybe this is what flying felt like for Moon. She hoped the feeling would last, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath about it.

***

Before she headed back to the bower she and Moon were sharing, Flower suggested she stop by the teacher’s court, but didn’t say why. Bramble and another Arbora, a young male, were sitting together near the map, discussing the west area of the map with emphatic pointing and expansive gesturing. Bramble looked up, managing to act like Fern’s presence was a pleasant surprise and not an interruption. “Petal and Flower said you and Moon might need a pack or two for the journey,” the hunter said, “so I’ve got them ready over here.” She hopped up and grabbed two small cloth packs from another table. “Petal already packed some dried meat and fruit inside, and don’t give me that look, you and Moon both need it.” 

“Thank you,” Fern said, a little lost for words. 

The Arbora male grinned, “I’m used to her scolding me about packing properly for an overnight trip. It’s kind of nice to see it from the outside. I’m Braid, by the way.” 

“I’m Fern,” she said, even though he probably, definitely, already knew. She ducked out of the room before she could embarrass herself further, and headed for the bowers. To her surprise, when she made it up the stairs, the two wrapped bundles, the gifts from Jade that Moon had left on the stairs were gone. Fern pushed further into the bower to see if Moon had brought them in, but the space was empty. Not willing to think on it, Fern turned her attention to packing her old clothes, as well as Moon’s, into one of the packs. She wondered if Moon was ready to be found and interrupted. She thought about what Flower had said about consorts having a flair for the dramatic and held back a smile. For Moon, it was a flair for silent brooding. 

She left the two packs in the bower, and decided to start her search at the stairs Moon had taken up to the higher areas of the pyramid. She found a less-occupied hall, and walked down until she saw a Moon-shaped blob above a doorway that looked out over the river. He had looped his tail over one of the stone projections and hung himself upside down, his wings wrapped coiled around in a perfect bundle to hide from the whole of the Three Worlds. Fern settled in the doorway, sitting with one shoulder braced against one of the upright columns. She watched a small flock of yellow birds swoop and dive in the mercurial breeze, and wondered if this might be a good place to do a sitting meditation with Flower. The sun was starting to set low over the trees, splashes of oranges and pink painting the sky. 

The birds dove and zipped through the air, catching bugs in the breeze with deft efficiency. Then a gust of wind scattered some of them, a few tumbling until they righted themselves and the flock continued their journey over the trees and out of sight. 

Fern heard a rustle overhead and looked up to see Moon blinking down at her bemusedly. He let his wings hang down, stretching, before he released his tail and landed on the ground next to her. He shifted to his groundling form, rolling his shoulders and yawning. 

“We leave in the morning,” he said. 

“So I heard,” Fern agreed. “Petal prepared a few packs for us. I left them in the bower.” 

Moon reached a hand down to help her stand, then sniffed, smelling her sweat. “What have you been doing?”  

“Something Flower thinks will help. I don’t know if it actually helps with the whole ‘mentor abilities’ part of things, but I enjoyed it.” They walked together back into the colony, making for their borrowed bower. As they were crossing from one area of the colony to another, a brief scuffle caught both their ears. 

Fern blinked quickly at the sight of Jade leaning out a doorway of one of the rooms. She must have gotten some rest, because she didn’t look as weary as she had before Fern’s unexpected nap. The queen was in her Arbora form, her spines and frills a bit less abundant, her silhouette completely different without wings. 

“Could we talk?” Jade said, voice confident but soft as she looked at Moon. 

Fern stopped, but Moon took a few more steps forward before stopping. He glanced at Fern. “Yes. If Fern stays.” 

Jade blinked a few times. “Of course. Would you like to sit down?” she offered, gesturing into the room. Moon hesitated, then seemed to gather himself and walked into the room. He had looked less like he was going to a rapid sleedog den when he met with Pearl for the first time. Shoulders stiff, and eyes flinty, he dropped onto a cushion and tugged Fern to sit on the cushion next to him. 

Jade gingerly pulled a parcel from somewhere, and settled gracefully on a cushion herself. She unrolled it, revealing the fine knife she had left at their bower. She gently set it down, pushing it toward Moon.

Moon’s fingers twitched, then his hands slowly closed into fists. He dipped his head down. “Thank you for the offer,” he said softly. “But I must decline.” He grasped Fern’s elbow and pulled her up with him as he stood. He turned, gently lifted her around the waist, and out of the room, carrying Fern with him.  Fern caught a momentary expression on Jade’s face as they turned around the doorframe: confusion and unrestrained hurt. 

Fern could hear Moon’s thrumming heartbeat as he hustled away. He turned down a corridor, slipping through doorways and rooms until they reached an opening to the exterior of the pyramid. He leapt out, shifting mid drop, and snapped his wings out. Fern stayed in her softskinned form. Moon flew them both out beyond the pyramid, where the slow-moving river was wider and rolled down a rocky bank and into a pool. He landed, gently set Fern on her feet, then shifted to groundling. Fern watched as he walked over to the pool, onto a flat rock that jutted up from the shallows, and sat down at the pool’s edge. He put his feet in the clear water, and Fern moved to join him, sitting with her thigh flush against his, and dipped her toes into the water. 

“So, what was that about?” she asked, choosing to speak in Hassi. She couldn’t smell any Raksura nearby, but she didn’t want to take any chances of being overhead. What she could smell was Moon's fear.

Moon tipped his head back to look at the sky. “What, exactly, did she ask you? When you first met her?” he said, also in Hassi. 

“She asked me to tell you she wanted to meet and talk to you.” She waited for him to explain, knowing he would do so in his own time. Tiny blue-gray fish came to investigate their feet, and Fern splashed her toes a few times, watching as the fish dipped away and returned, over and over. 

“If I accept her gift, that means I accept her offer of courtship. It changes the dynamic of the colony and gives her an opening to challenge Pearl.” Moon ran his hands through his hair. 

“Yes, I understood that.” Fern bit her lip. “What am I missing?”

“If I publicly support her, and she challenges Pearl, it puts us at risk,” Moon said. Fern looked at him sharply. “No, no one told me,” he added, “or made any threats about it, but it’s no different from--” he sighed gustily.

“It’s no different from any number of social political maneuvers we’ve seen over the turns in groundling settlements.” Fern thought of all the ways she'd seen groundlings via for status and material belongings - anything from snide comments to public challenges to outright attack. She supposed everything so far wasn't too different from what she'd seen all her life, except…. Everything came together for her, finally. “Pearl doesn’t want us here, so either Jade kills Pearl for control, or she gives up the challenge and we have to leave. Or Jade loses and we have to leave anyway.” She took a deep breath. “But by rejecting her like this, what happens?” 

“It’s why I agreed to go to the Golden Isles,” Moon said. “I couldn’t risk rejecting her in public, in front of everyone. But with this, it was private. Or at least as private as anything in this place can be. I tried not to… I don’t want to embarrass her in public, or cause her to feel like she has no choice but retaliate against me.”

After feeling so settled, like everything made sense, this realization and reminder of instability made Fern want to scream. “We could just fly away?” she suggested, half-heartedly.

Moon clasped her hand in his and squeezed gently. “We can’t leave,” he said, firmly. “I spent some time in the nursery. I won’t leave them to the Fell. I can’t.” 

Fern closed her eyes and swallowed with a dry mouth. “All right. We won’t.” She thought a little more, and realized, “Even if we don’t publicly side with Jade, we have no chances with any other court in the future. Ever. We can’t claim ignorant orphan solitaries at this point.” 

Moon grunted. “If we save even one of the babies in the nursery from the Fell, being solitaries for the rest of our lives is worth it.” 

Fern thought of Sorrow chivvying the five of them into a nest of dry leaves and branches at the back of their hollow tree, of her silhouette in front of the open knot facing the outdoors, wings spread to protect them all. “Yes, absolutely,” she agreed.