big burst of fire. The fishermen use it to keep the giant waterlings away.” Rift listened a moment more. “The guard says that the people are gathering in this area, too. When they felt the leviathan jolt, someone ordered the traders to cast off and the fishing boats to be secured for a move, so everyone knows something is wrong.”
“Good.” Moon rippled his spines, trying to release the tension in his back. That explained why the guards had been in the passage. Ardan had known the other magisters would be trying to get inside, and if any of them knew about the smuggler’s entrance, they might have enough magic of their own to get through his barrier.
Ardan turned away from the messenger. From his expression, none of this was welcome news. He said to Moon, “Very well. I’ll return the seed in exchange for the bridle. If Rift will be good enough to go and get it now.”
That hadn’t been in Moon’s plans. “After you let us go with the seed.”
Ardan’s expression was derisive. “I’m not a fool. Then you’d have both.”
Moon bared his fangs. “I don’t want both.”
Ardan held out for a long moment, then took a sharp impatient breath. “Send Rift for the bridle. You and I will go and get the seed. We’ll make the exchange here.”
Moon controlled a frustrated hiss. He could continue to argue, but he didn’t want the other magisters to break this up anymore than Ardan did. He told Rift, “Go and get it.”
Rift flicked his spines in assent, threw an opaque look at Ardan, and bounded away toward the doorway to the tunnel.
Ardan started toward the dome and the guards hastily moved out of his way. Moon followed him, forcing himself not to twitch under the suspicious regard of a large group of hostile groundlings.
He took in a quiet breath and tasted the air. There was no hint of Stone or Esom, but then the air was thick with rot, the leviathan’s stench, and decaying preserved waterling. Using Esom’s concealment spell, the two of them should be working their way around the outer perimeter of the big chamber, as far away from the guardsmen and Ardan as possible.
Once they were past the bulk of the dead waterling, Moon could see the dome. Ardan hadn’t lied; it looked undisturbed, except for some new scratches and scuffs at the door seam where the guards must have tried to pry it open.
As they reached the dome, Ardan said easily, “Continue to speak in Kedaic, please. I wouldn’t want reason to doubt our arrangement.”
Moon didn’t argue. He stepped up to the door and tapped on it. “Jade, it’s me.” He couldn’t hear anything from inside, but after a long, fraught moment, something creaked in the wall and the door began to slide open. It stopped, leaving a gap only a pace or so wide. Jade stepped into the opening.
Moon realized that until that moment he hadn’t been certain that she and Flower were really still inside the dome, that this hadn’t been an elaborate ruse by Ardan. She was still in her winged form, her spines bristling. Moon heard muted exclamations from some of Ardan’s men. They sounded startled and uneasy, as if Jade was more formidable than they had expected. Jade kept her expression neutral, though her gaze flicked over Moon briefly, possibly looking for open wounds. Then, with a slight narrowing of her eyes, she regarded Ardan.
He said, “I had never expected to see a Raksuran queen in the flesh.”
Jade tilted her head inquiringly. “Have you seen many dead ones?”
Ardan smiled, acknowledging the hit. “I’ve seen the wall carvings.”
Moon said, “We’re giving him the thing that he needs to keep the leviathan from sinking, and he’s going to let us leave with the seed.”
“Is he.” Jade sounded unconvinced, but she lifted a hand.
Flower stepped into view behind Jade, and she held something tucked under her arm. It was a light brown object the size of a melon, with a ribbed outer shell. Flower said, “It was in a holder in the altar, or whatever it is, in here.” She peered past Jade at Ardan. “That’s him, is it?”
Ardan frowned at Flower. “I’m sorry. You’re not a Raksura, surely?” Apparently he couldn’t contain his curiosity even under these circumstances.
Flower’s brows quirked. This was probably not a question she had ever been asked before. “I’m an Arbora.”
Ardan didn’t look convinced. “You don’t resemble the carvings.”
That was possibly an attempt at a polite way of saying that