Edge of Worlds (The Books of the Raksura) by Martha Wells Read Free Book Online Page A

footstep on the cork floor. Moon shifted and leapt for the ceiling, sinking his claws into the moss, curling his body up along one of the big stems that supported the structure. The door rattled and a voice said, “Delin?”
    Delin stood and faced the door. “Yes?”
    The folding door was pushed open and a groundling stepped through, passed under Moon as it crossed the cabin toward Delin.
    The groundling was about Moon’s height, with a dark cap of short, tightly curled hair and reddish brown skin that was rough and almost pebbly; it wasn’t scaled, but it looked thick and tough. He was probably male. He wore a loose jacket of red-brown with figured designs in dull gold, open at the chest, and tight pants that went to the knees, with knee-high sandals with elaborately wrapped straps. The materials looked rich and carefully worked.
    Moon dropped lightly to the deck, and shifted back to his groundling form by the time his bare feet touched the floorboards. He pushed the door shut.
    The figure turned and fell back a startled step. His dark eyes opened wide, revealing a second lower eyelid.
    Behind him, Delin said, “He is Moon of Indigo Cloud, a consort of the Raksura. So be very careful what you say and do.” He added to Moon, “This is Callumkal, Master Scholar of the Conclave of the Janderan.”
    Callumkal eyed Moon. Moon knew he didn’t look terribly impressive at the moment, standing barefoot on the deck in mud- and moss-stained work clothes. Callumkal glanced back at Delin and said, “I thought you might be delaying intentionally.” He spoke Altanic, one of the more common eastern trade languages. He didn’t sound angry, but it was always hard to read emotions accurately off strange groundlings. He was wearing a leather harness under his open jacket, the straps hanging down below it. The dark leather was almost the same color as Callumkal’s skin, and Moon hadn’t noticed it at first, and had thought the buckles were jewelry. It looked utilitarian, and was worn in spots as if it had been used for hard work. Moon just couldn’t figure out what sort of work. For riding some kind of grasseater, maybe. Except these groundlings had a flying boat; why would they need to bring riding grasseaters?
    “It is better to speak here, away from the colony.” Delin was undisturbed at being caught with a Raksura in his room. “Everyone will be more comfortable.”
    Callumkal inclined his head. “You could have explained that.”
    “Could I?” Delin shrugged. “Probably.”
    That Delin, one of the most straightforward groundlings of any race that Moon had ever met, felt the need to dissemble didn’t bode well. Moon said in Raksuran, “And you said these people didn’t steal you.”
    “They did not,” Delin answered in the same language. He must have been practicing since the last time they met, though his accent was still terrible. “But they were determined on this course. It was better to let them think they were in command while I navigated from the stern.”
    Callumkal waited patiently for Delin to finish speaking. Then he looked at Moon. “You understand Altanic?”
    “Yes.” Moon stepped away from the door. If there was going to be a fight, he didn’t want to start it. And moving put him closer to the window, where he knew Jade must be listening.
    “Delin told us about your experience in the ancient underwater city. We only wish to speak to you about it.” Callumkal glanced at Delin again, and his voice was tinged with what might be irony. “I’m sure he has told you by now, that we have located a place we believe to be similar, perhaps constructed by the same species, perhaps not. We intend to try to enter it, and wish to be as forearmed as possible.”
    “It might not matter how forearmed you are,” Moon said. “There are some things you can’t prepare for.”
    When some groundlings spoke with a Raksura for the first time, they seemed surprised. Moon could usually tell if it was surprise that