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a special talent to be a mentor.” He glanced up, meeting Moon’s eyes. “We’re Aeriat. We protect the colony.”
    Moon couldn’t stop a bitter snort. “Stop saying ‘we.’”
    Stone ignored that. He dug a cup out of the pack and said, “You want some of this?”
    Moon stared in disbelief. He shook his head incredulously. “How stupid do you think I am?”
    “What?” Stone waved the cup in exasperation. “It’s tea. You watched me make it.”
    Moon had thought he could play this game, but he just couldn’t stand it. He pushed away from Stone, stumbled to his feet. “You know, I’d rather you just kill me than talk me to death.”
    Stone grimaced in frustration. “If I wanted to kill you—”
    “You’re just waiting until the poison wears off. If you eat me while it’s still in me, you won’t be able to shift either.”
    Stone slammed the pack down, stood, and shifted.
    Moon dodged back, but Stone leapt into the air, caught the wind, banked, and dove away. Moon lost sight of him and pivoted, trying to watch the sky and all sides of the tower at once.
    He waited, but Stone didn’t reappear.
    Warily, tension making his nerves jump, Moon searched the roof again, looking for another way down. He found what might have originally been a trap door, but the shaft was filled in with rocks and mortar, as if intentionally blocked from below. As if the original inhabitants had tried to wall themselves in. He wondered if any of them had survived, or if the tower was a giant tomb.
    Finally, shoulders hunched against the cold, he went back to the fire. He fed in more wood, building it up again. Then he looked through Stone’s pack.
    It contained no weapons except for a small, dull fruit-peeling knife. There was another cup with the same design as the kettle, a couple of empty waterskins, and leather packets all of which contained food. And they weren’t even staples, just dried limes, nuts, two more pressed tea cakes, and some broken pieces of sugar cane. Opening a last packet of dark leather, expecting it to be more food, Moon found a heavy bracelet of red gold. Holding it up to the light, he could see designs etched on it, a fluid image like interlinked snakes.
    Moon shook his head, baffled at the collection. He wrapped the bracelet up again and tucked it back in with the rest. Whatever Stone was, he didn’t have to pretend to be a groundling; he had few useful supplies for traveling or camping on the ground. And he must be strong enough to stay in his other form for a long time. Is that what he wanted you to see? Stone must have known that Moon would go through the pack or he wouldn’t have left it here. So he’s not lying about coming from some kind of shifter enclave. He had never heard of one, but the Three Worlds was a big place. Though Moon traveled faster and further than a groundling could have, he had only seen a tiny part of it.
    Moon sat back and rubbed at the manacle where it chafed his wrist. The wind gusted, scattering sparks from the fire. It was only late afternoon, but it was getting colder. Even if he managed to get away from Stone, he could only fly so far in one day, only stay in his other form so long. His oiled skin coat and hood were back at his tent in the Cordans’ camp, with everything else he owned, like the good steel hunting and skinning knives he had traded for at the Carthas forge. Not counting the things he had gotten from the Cordans, there were his flints, his waterskins, blankets, and the bow and quiver he kept for show, to explain his success at hunting. Some of it he didn’t need when he wasn’t living as a groundling. But he would have to make his way through these mountains with nothing.
    The whoosh of air warned him; Moon looked up to see Stone high in the air, drawing nearer to the tower. Moon just had time to stand and back away from the fire. Stone swooped in and dropped a carcass on the paving, a creature nearly as big as a kras, with thick oily skin and flippers