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“He won’t come near us. Have no fear.” He’d better not, or I might not see his life as sacred as his traedor had. “When he left, some of the males went with him, angered by the decision their traedor made.”
“But he killed her.”
“I’ve heard there were circumstances the traedor didn’t understand, but that Nevarn wasn’t allowed to speak of them.”
“I can’t imagine any reason someone would have to take the life of another.”
“I don’t either. We kill creatures but only to eat. And we thank them for the sacrifice they make to keep us alive.”
“Does any clan hunt for the enormous fish that brought us to this island?”
“Never. The fish is called a caipareel and its species has performed this duty for us for longer than anyone remembers. We protect it and it transports us to and from the island.” I cleared my throat. “Nevarn’s is the Celedar Clan, and their god bestowed bluish green and white on them.”
“You said they’re a new clan. How would they have a god or colors if they’ve been here forever?”
“They discovered a god we hadn’t known existed in this area. I don’t know anything about this god, just that Nevarn’s clan has one. My friend, Firion, is traedor of the Dastalon Clan, that of the sky warriors. Their red rivals the sky at sunset.”
“That must be Nevarn’s former clan.” She peered up, but we couldn’t see the sky through the top of the crystal structure. “How do they live up there? On ships?”
“They fly on great winged beasts and live on islands that float in the sky above the ocean.”
“Why don’t the islands fall?”
I shrugged. “Such is the way of the gods.”
A shiver tracked through her, and she hugged her waist with her arms. “I’m not sure I’m eager to meet their flying beasts if they’re anything like the caipareel.”
“They’re well-trained. They rarely bite.”
“Where do the final clan live?”
“My friend, Xax, is the second to the traedor of the Ulistar Clan, the Zuldruxians living among plant gods.”
Pausing, she frowned, wedging the fluffs above her eyes together, creating yet another gesture with a new, indiscernible meaning on her expressive face. “Plant clan?”
“They live inside large plants thrusting up from the ground that they grow from spores. This clan is very small and we’ve encouraged them to come live with us, but their traedor prefers to isolate them. He’s refused to join us so far.”
“Are their colors bluish green and white as well?”
I shook my head. “Gold. Glorious gold. Our worlds are similar, aren’t they?”
“In some ways, though our islands only float on the surface of the water, not in the sky.”
“And how do you keep them from sinking into the water?”
She frowned. “They’re large land masses with bases that extend all the way to the ocean floor. They don’t sink.”
“And neither do the sky islands, though they don’t have bases anchoring them to the ground or the hooks for clinging to the clouds.”
“I can’t imagine anything like that.”
“We could visit one day and you could see how they live.”
“Perhaps.” She tapped the wall of the central compound. “We use a similar appearing material to this, though it’s quite fragile. It shatters under a heavy blow.”
“Some crystals shatter as easily here, as you saw with the flowering tree. The grass our hepadons eat is also fragile. If one treads on it hard, it can be crushed.”
“You eat some of the crystals.”
