Khitah led them under one of the walkways bridging two of the hives and stopped to gesture up at it. Mounted along the arch of the bridge were several wooden plaques. Carved of warm-toned wood, they depicted views of the beehive city, with Kek paddling boats and harvesting their plants. It was clearly Arbora work.
Moon nodded, trying to look appreciative. Khitah seemed pleased.
Keeping his voice low, Chime said, “We should have brought them a gift.”
Exasperated, Moon asked him, “Did you know we were coming? Because I didn’t.”
“I’m just saying that next time we should—”
Moon turned to Khitah. “We want to ask about other people who live out on the sea. Islands? That way?” He pointed out toward the water, roughly in the direction the mentors thought the seed lay. “Islands. People,” Khitah agreed, and made an expansive gesture, indicating most of the sea.
“Good. But what about that way?” Moon pointed again.
Khitah considered it, as the breeze stirred the feathery growths on his arms and head. He waggled his stick-like fingers in what seemed to be the Kek equivalent of a shrug.
“Maybe they just don’t know,” Chime said, a little frustrated. “Those round boats couldn’t make it very far out into the water.”
“But they trade.” Moon had forced himself to shift in front of a strange groundling settlement with only Chime for company, and he was unwilling to give up so soon. “They have to see who travels back and forth here.”
Maybe some of those words struck a bell for Khitah, because he turned back to the passage and motioned them to follow again.
They wound their way further into the city, through the green shadows of the plant racks and into the bottom level of one of the hives. Overhead, Kek moved on the reed floors, called to each other in their soft voices, peered curiously down at the visitors.
They went down a ramp, then came out again to a dock area open to the sea. Partly sheltered from above by woven reed canopies, it had small wooden piers snaking out into the lapping water. Round Kek boats were tied up along most of the piers, except for one. Next to it was a large leafless tree, apparently growing up out of the water.
Not a tree, a boat, Moon realized, moving down the dock to get a closer look. It was round, the gray branches arching up from a thick mossy mat to form a bowl-shape. Something sat in the center, its form obscured by the branches.
Khitah pointed emphatically toward the strange boat. “Water traveler,” he said. “Go long way. Know much.” Moon started to step down onto the pier, but Khitah put a hand on his arm. His grip was light, like being caught by dry brush. He stared hard at Moon and said, “Careful.”
Moon nodded. The warning just confirmed his suspicion. “I will.”
“Why?” Chime squinted to get a better look at the shadowy shape inside the branches. “It’s just a groundling in a boat… isn’t it?”
“No. Stay here with Khitah.” Moon stepped down onto the pier, the reeds creaking under his weight, and moved toward the water traveler.
Drawing closer, he could see root-like tendrils floating in the water, growing out from the underside of the mat. The gray branches looked less like wood and more like gnarled horn. They were connected to the being that sat in the center, growing out of its arms, legs, back, chest. It wasn’t a groundling sitting in a boat; it was a waterling, and it was the boat.
A voice said, “Now what’s this?” It spoke Altanic, low and sibilant. Something about it made the back of Moon’s neck itch. The scent wafting toward him had a rank edge to it, odd for a water being of any kind. It was a predator’s scent. “A curious groundling come to talk to old Nobent?”
“You could say that.” Moon crouched on the pier, so his head was about even with Nobent’s. It gave him a better view of the water traveler’s face. It looked a little like a male groundling, his skin gnarled and gray like the horn structures growing out of his body. There were chips of the stuff above his eyes, down his cheeks, studding the curve of his skull. It wasn’t that the growths or the gray coloring were particularly repellent. Stone was gray and a little gnarled too, though not to this extent. But this creature radiated menace. “I need to know if there are any groundlings living out on the