The Serpent Sea - By Martha Wells Page 0,125

else except what the sorcerer might be doing to Jade and Flower, managed not to give in to the impulse to drop back down and tear River’s head off. He said, “No, we scout first.” He didn’t intend to make any mistakes, or to let them all rush up there and find themselves running right into Ardan. “Floret, follow the tunnel back toward the mortuary, as far as you can without being seen. See if there’s anyone guarding it. Take Chime, to check for barriers.”

Floret flicked her spines in acknowledgement and started to climb. Chime, nervous but determined, followed her. Moon dropped back out of the passage to wait, as River stomped away to sulk with Drift. But no one questioned the decision.

Stone settled under the opening to wait and Moon paced uneasily. It didn’t help that the others were all sitting or standing there staring at him, even Karsis and Esom. This was much easier when Jade was here to take all the responsibility, and all Moon had to do was have the crazy ideas. It had been easier having responsibility only for himself.

Rift hovered a little apart from the others, his whole body suggesting reluctance to be anywhere near them, though he hadn’t tried to run away. Seeing him again made Moon realize just how confused his feelings were. He felt sorry for Rift, he was deeply suspicious of him, he wanted to help him, he just wanted him to go away. Rift was a miserable reminder that there were pitfalls to living with the Raksuran courts that Moon hadn’t even stumbled into yet. None of it was going to matter if they didn’t get the seed back and get off this damn leviathan, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting in that direction.

Balm looked up at the passage, worried and preoccupied. She said, “You think the sorcerer knows Jade and Flower are trapped in the dome?”

“He has to.” Moon thought it was dangerous to assume anything else. “He would have wanted to open it to see if the seed was still there.”

“Maybe they can fight him off,” Song said. “There’s two of them, and Flower’s still pretty strong.” She flicked her spines nervously, a young and deceptively delicate predator.

“Your friends might have been able to lock the door from the inside,” Esom pointed out. “Or dismantle the mechanism that opens it, if it’s not too complicated.” Karsis elbowed him and he blinked and added, “Not that I think they wouldn’t be able to figure out something complicated—”

“It’s all right,” Moon cut him off before he made it any worse. “We know what you mean.”

Karsis cleared her throat. Obviously trying to distract everyone from Esom’s gaffe, she asked Moon, “Is Jade your wife?”

In groundling terms, it was close enough. “Yes.”

With bitter emphasis, Rift said, “He’s a consort. It’s not like he had a choice. It’s not like anyone in a Raksuran court has a choice.”

And having Rift speak for him didn’t decrease Moon’s irritation. Moon said, pointedly, “I had a choice.”

Rift threw a glance at him, half-angry, half-wary. “To compete for a queen or to be a useless burden to the court?”

If Stone had heard that, he ignored it. Balm hissed and Song and Vine bristled angrily. Glaring at Rift in annoyance, Karsis said, “You know, I don’t think anyone here cares for your opinion. I know I never have.”

Rift barred his teeth at her. Then Root, seething with indignation, said, “Moon was a solitary, too, and he stays with Jade because he wants to.”

Rift stared at Moon, so incredulous his spines flattened. Vine thumped Root in the side of the head, and hissed, “No more talking. Ever.”

Moon set his jaw. Rift had always had a hold on him; now he would know what it was. Rift said, “That’s… Consorts don’t leave their courts…”

“Tell him the story,” Moon said. He walked away and circled around Stone to take up a position under the passage. Stone, proving that he had been listening, heaved a deeply annoyed sigh.

There was a long moment of awkward silence from the other side of the walkway, then Moon heard Balm speak quietly to Vine. Vine gestured and Rift, still badly shocked, followed him down the walkway to talk. Song shook her head grimly at Root, whose spines drooped with embarrassment.

Time seemed to drag. Standing still, without immediate danger as a distraction, Moon could feel every cut and slash that had penetrated his scales, the exhaustion dragging at him like a net, making his

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