《Dragon Haven (Rain Wild Chronicles #2)》


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    PROLOGUE


    The humans were agitated. Sintara sensed their darting, stinging thoughts, as annoying as a swarm of biting insects. The dragon wondered how humans had ever managed to survive when they could not keep their thoughts to themselves. The irony was that despite spraying out every fancy that passed through their small minds, they didn¡¯t have the strength of intellect to sense what their fellows were thinking. They tottered through their brief lives, misunderstanding one another and almost every other creature in the world. It had shocked her the first time she realized that the only way they could communicate with one another was to make noises with their mouths and then to guess what the other human meant by the noises it made in response. ¡°Talking¡± they called it.


    For a moment, she stopped blocking the barrage of squeaking and tried to determine what had agitated the dragon keepers today. As usual, there was no coherence to their concerns. Several were worried about the copper dragon who had fallen ill. It was not as if they could do much about it; she wondered why they were flapping about it instead of tending to their duties for the other dragons. She was hungry, and no one had brought her anything today, not even a fish.


    She strolled listlessly down the riverbank. There was little to see here, only a strip of gravel and mud, reeds and a few scrawny saplings. Thin sunlight touched her back but gave small warmth. No game of any size lived here. There might be fish in the river, but the effort of catching one was scarcely worth the small pleasure of eating it. Now, if someone else brought it to her¡­


    She thought about summoning Thymara and insisting the girl go hunting for her. From what she had overheard from the keepers, they¡¯d remain on this forsaken strip of beach until the copper dragon either recovered or died. She considered that for a moment. If the copper died, that would make a substantial meal for whichever dragon got there first. And that, she decided bitterly, would be Mercor. The gold dragon was keeping watch. She sensed that he suspected some danger to the copper, but he was guarding his thoughts now, not letting dragons or keepers know what he was thinking. That alone made her feel wary.


    She would have asked him outright what danger he feared if she hadn¡¯t been so angry at him. With no provocation at all, he had given her true name to the keepers. Not just to Thymara and Alise, her own keepers. That would have been bad enough. But no, he had trumpeted her true name out as if it were his to share. That he and most of the other dragons had chosen to share their true names with their keepers meant nothing to her; if they wanted to be foolishly trusting, it was up to them. She didn¡¯t interfere between him and his keeper. Why had he felt so free about unbalancing her relationship with Thymara? Now that the girl knew her true name, Sintara could only hope that she had no idea of how to use it. No dragon could lie to someone who demanded the truth with her true name or used it properly when asking a question. Refuse to answer, of course, but not lie. Nor could a dragon break an agreement if she entered into it under her true name. It was an unconscionable amount of power that he had given to a human with the life span of a fish.


    She found an open place on the beach and lowered her body onto the sun-warmed river stones, closed her eyes, and sighed. Should she sleep? No. Resting on the chilly ground did not appeal to her.


    Reluctantly, she opened her mind again, to try to get some idea of what the humans had planned. Someone else was whining about blood on his hands. The elder of her keepers was in an emotional storm as to whether she should return home to live in boredom with her husband or mate with the captain of the ship. Sintara made a grumble of disgust. There was not even a decision to ponder there. Alise was agonizing over trivialities. It didn¡¯t matter what she did, any more than it mattered where a fly landed. Humans lived and died in a ridiculously short amount of time. Perhaps that was why they made so much noise when they were alive. Perhaps it was the only way they could convince one another of their significance.


    Dragons made sounds, it was true, but they did not depend on those sounds to convey their thoughts. Sound and utterances were useful when one had to blast through the clutter of human thought and attract the attention of another dragon. Sound was useful to make humans in general focus on what a dragon was trying to convey to it. She would not have minded human sounds so much if they did not persist in spouting out their thoughts at the same time they tried to convey them with their squeaking. The dual annoyance sometimes made her wish she could just eat them and be done with them.


    She released her frustration as a low rumble. The humans were useless annoyances, and yet fate had forced the dragons to rely on them. When the dragons had hatched from their cases, emerging from their metamorphosis from sea serpent to dragon, they had wakened to a world that did not match their memories of it. Not decades but centuries had passed since dragons had last walked this world. Instead of emerging able to fly, they had come out as badly formed parodies of what a dragon was supposed to be, trapped on a swampy riverbank beside an impenetrable forested wet land. The humans had grudgingly aided them, bringing them carcasses to feed on and tolerating their presence as they waited for them to die off or muster the strength to leave. For years, they had starved and suffered, fed barely enough to keep them alive, trapped between the forest and the river.

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    And then Mercor conceived of a plan. The golden dragon concocted the tale of a half-remembered city of an ancient race, and the vast treasures that surely resided there still, waiting to be rediscovered. It did not particularly bother any of the dragons that only the memory of Kelsingra, an Elderling city built to a scale that welcomed dragons, was a true memory. If a treasure of glittering riches was the false bait it took to encourage the humans to help them, so be it.


    And so the trap was set, the rumor spread, and when sufficient time had passed, the humans had offered to assist the dragons as they sought to rediscover the Elderling city of Kelsingra. An expedition was mounted, with a barge and boats, hunters to kill for the dragons, and keepers to see to the needs of the dragons as they escorted them upriver and back to a city they recalled clearly only when they dreamed. The grubby little merchants who held power in the city did not give them their best, of course. Only two real hunters were hired to provide for over a dozen dragons. The ¡°keepers¡± the Traders had selected for them were mostly adolescent humans, the misfits of their population, those they preferred would not survive and breed. The youngsters were marked with scales and growths, changes the other Rain Wilders wished not to see. The best that could be said of them was that they were mostly tractable and diligent in caring for the dragons. But they had no memories from their forebears, and skittered through their lives with only the minimal knowledge of the world that they could gather in their own brief existence. It was hard to converse with one, even when she had no intent of seeking intelligent dialogue. As simple a command as ¡°go bring me meat¡± was usually met with whining about how difficult it was to find game and queries such as, ¡°Did not you eat but a few hours ago?¡± as if such words would somehow change her mind about her needs.


    Sintara alone of the dragons had had the foresight to claim two keepers as her servants instead of one. The older human, Alise, was of little use as a hunter, but she was a willing if not adept groomer and had a correct and respectful attitude. Her younger keeper, Thymara, was the best of the hunters among the keepers, but suffered from an unruly and impertinent nature. Still, having two keepers assured her that one was almost always available for her needs, at least for as long as their brief lives lasted. She hoped that would be long enough.


    For most of a moon cycle, the dragons had trudged up the river, staying to the shallows near the densely grown riverbank. The banks of the river were too thickly forested, too twined with vines and creepers, too tangled with reaching roots to provide walking space for the dragons. Their hunters ranged ahead of them, their keepers followed in their small boats, and last of all came the liveship Tarman, a long, low river barge that smelled much of dragon and magic. Mercor was intrigued with the so-called liveship. Most of the dragons, including Sintara, found the ship unsettling and almost offensive. The hull of the ship had been carved from ¡°wizardwood,¡± which was not wood at all but the remains of a dead sea serpent¡¯s cocoon. The timber that such ¡°wood¡± yielded was very hard and impervious to rain and weather. The humans valued it highly. But to dragons, it smelled of dragon flesh and memories. When a sea serpent wove its case to protect it while it changed into a dragon, it contributed saliva and memories to the special clay and sand it regurgitated. Such wood was, in its own way, sentient. The painted eyes of the ship were far too knowing for Sintara¡¯s liking, and Tarman moved upriver against the current far more easily than any ordinary ship should. She avoided the barge and spoke little to his captain. The man had never seemed to wish to interact with the dragons much. For a moment, that thought lodged in Sintara¡¯s mind. Was there a reason he avoided them? He did not seem cowed by dragons, as some humans did.


    Or repulsed. Sintara thought of Sedric and snorted disdainfully. The fussy Bingtown man trailed after her keeper Alise, carrying her pens and paper, sketching dragons and writing down snippets of information as Alise passed it on to him. He was so dull of brain that he could not even understand the dragons when they spoke to him. He heard her speech as ¡°animal sounds¡± and had rudely compared it to the mooing of a cow! No. Captain Leftrin was nothing like Sedric. He was not deaf to the dragons, and obviously he did not consider them unworthy of his attention. So why did he avoid them? Was he hiding something?


    Well, he was a fool if he thought he could conceal anything from a dragon. She dismissed her brief concern. Dragons could sort through a human¡¯s mind as easily as a crow could peck apart a pile of dung. If Leftrin or any other human had a secret, they were welcome to keep it. Human lives were so short that knowing a human was scarcely worth the effort. At one time, Elderlings had been worthy companions for dragons. They had lived much longer than humans and been clever enough to compose songs and poetry that honored dragons. In their wisdom, they had made their public buildings and even some of their more palatial homes hospitable to dragon guests. Her ancestral memories informed her of fatted cattle, of warm shelters that welcomed dragons during the wintry season, of scented oil baths that soothed itching scales and other thoughtful amenities the Elderlings had contrived for them. It was a shame they were gone from the world. A shame.

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    She tried to imagine Thymara as an Elderling, but it was impossible. Her young keeper lacked the proper attitude toward dragons. She was disrespectful, sullen, and far too fascinated with her own firefly existence. She had spirit but employed it poorly. Her older keeper, Alise, was even more unsuitable. Even now, she could sense the woman¡¯s underlying uncertainty and misery. An Elderling female had to share something of a dragon queen¡¯s decisiveness and fire. Did either of her tenders have the potential for them? she wondered. What would it take to put spurs to them, to test their mettle? Was it worth the effort of challenging them to see what they were made of?


    Something was poking her. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. She rolled to her feet, shook herself, and then lay down again. As she began to lower her head, movement in the tall rushes caught her eyes. Game? She fixed her gaze. No. Nothing more than two of the keepers leaving the beach and heading into the forest. She recognized them. One was a female, Jerd, keeper to Veras. The green dragon¡¯s keeper was tall for a human female, with a brush of blond hair cresting her head. Thymara didn¡¯t like her. Sintara knew that without precisely knowing why. With her was Greft. She blew out softly through her nostrils. She had little use for Kalo¡¯s keeper. Greft might tend the huge blue-black dragon and keep him gleaming, but not even Kalo trusted him. All of the dragons had misgivings about him. Thymara regarded him with both interest and fear. He fascinated her, and Thymara resented that fascination.


    Sintara snuffed the wind, caught the scents of the retreating keepers, and half closed her eyes. She knew where they were bound.


    An intriguing thought came to her. She suddenly glimpsed a way to measure her keeper, but would it be worth the effort? Perhaps. Perhaps not. She stretched out on the warmed rocks again, vainly wishing they were sun-scorched banks of sand. She waited.


    Day the 5th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    Enclosed, a missive from Trader Polon Meldar to Sedric Meldar, to ascertain that all is well and ask his date of return.


    Detozi,


    There seems to be some concern over the well-being of some Bingtown residents who were scheduled to visit Cassarick, but now seem to have moved beyond it. Two anxious parents have separately visited me today, promising a bonus if news returns swiftly. I know you are not on the best of terms with the Keeper of the Birds in Cassarick, but perhaps this once, you might use that connection to see if there are any tidings of either Sedric Meldar or Alise Kincarron Finbok. The Finbok woman comes from a wealthy family. Good tidings of reassurance might be amply rewarded.


    Erek


    CHAPTER ONE


    POISONED


    The sucking gray mud pulled at her boots and slowed her down. Alise watched Leftrin walking away from her toward the huddled dragon keepers as she struggled to break free of the earth¡¯s grip and go after him. ¡°Metaphor for my life,¡± she muttered savagely and resolutely stepped up her pace. A moment later, it occurred to her that just a few weeks ago, she would have regarded crossing the riverbank as not only a bit adventurous but as a taxing walk. Today, it was only a muddy patch to get across, and one that was not particularly difficult. ¡°I¡¯m changing,¡± she said to herself, and was jolted when she sensed Skymaw¡¯s assent.


    Do you listen in on all my thoughts? She queried the dragon and received no acknowledgment at all. She wondered uneasily if the dragon was aware of her attraction to Leftrin and of the details of her unhappy marriage. Almost immediately, she resolved to protect her privacy by not thinking of such things. And then recognized the futility of that. No wonder dragons think so poorly of us, if they are privy to every one of our thoughts.


    I assure you, most of what you think about we find so uninteresting that we don¡¯t even bother having opinions about it. Skymaw¡¯s response floated into her mind. Bitterly, the dragon added, My true name is Sintara. You may as well have it;all the others know it now that Mercor has flung it to the wind.


    It was exciting to communicate, mind to mind, with such a fabulous creature. Alise ventured a compliment. I am overjoyed to finally hear your true name. Sintara. Its glory is fitting to your beauty.


    A stony silence met her thought. Sintara did not ignore her;she offered her only emptiness. Alise attempted to smooth things over with a question. What happened to the brown dragon? Is he ill?


    The copper dragon hatched from her case as she is, and she has survived too long, Sintara replied callously.


    She?


    Stop thinking at me!


    Alise stopped herself before she could think an apology. She judged it would only annoy the dragon more. And she had nearly caught up to Leftrin. The crowd of keepers that had clustered around the brown dragon was dispersing. The big gold dragon and his small pink-scaled keeper were the lone guardians by the time she arrived at Leftrin¡¯s side. As she approached, the gold dragon lifted his head and fixed his gleaming black eyes on her. She felt the ¡°push¡± of his regard. Leftrin abruptly turned to her.

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    ¡°Mercor wants us to leave the brown alone,¡± he told her.


    ¡°But, but, the poor thing may need our help. Has anyone found out what is wrong with him? Or her, perhaps?¡± She wondered if Sintara had been mistaken or was mocking her.


    The gold dragon spoke directly to her then, the first time he had done so. His deep bell-like voice resonated in her lungs as his thoughts filled her head. ¡°Relpda has parasites eating her from the inside, and a predator has attacked her. I stand watch over her, to be sure that all remember that dragons are dragons¡¯ business.¡±


    ¡°A predator?¡± Alise was horrified.


    ¡°Go away,¡± Mercor told her, ungently. ¡°It is not your concern.¡±


    ¡°Walk with me,¡± Leftrin suggested strongly. The captain started to take her arm, and then abruptly withdrew his hand. Her heart sank. Sedric¡¯s words had worked their mischief. Doubtless Sedric had thought it his duty to remind Captain Leftrin that Alise was a married woman. Well, his rebuke had done its damage. Nothing would ever be easy and relaxed between them again. Both of them would always be thinking of propriety. If her husband, Hest, himself had suddenly appeared and stood between them, she could not have felt his presence more strongly.


    Nor hated him more.


    That shocked her. She hated her husband?


    She had known that he hurt her feelings, that he neglected her and humiliated her, that she disliked his manner with her. But she hated him? She¡¯d never allowed herself to think of him in such a way, she realized.


    Hest was handsome and educated, charming and well mannered. To others. She was allowed to spend his wealth as she pleased, as long as she did not bother him. Her parents thought she had married well, and most of the women of her acquaintance envied her.


    And she hated him. That was that. She had walked some way in silence at Leftrin¡¯s side before he cleared his throat, breaking in on her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she apologized reflexively. ¡°I was preoccupied.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much we can do to change things,¡± he said sadly, and she nodded, attaching his words to her inner turmoil before he changed their significance by adding, ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone can help the brown dragon. She will live or she¡¯ll die. And we¡¯ll be stuck here until she decides she¡¯s doing one or the other.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s so hard to think of her as female. It makes me doubly sad that she is so ill. There are so few female dragons left. So I don¡¯t mind. I don¡¯t mind being stuck here, I mean.¡± She wished he would offer her his arm. She¡¯d decided she¡¯d take it.


    There was no clear dividing line between the shore and the river¡¯s flow. The mud got sloppier and wetter and then it was the river. They both stopped well short of the moving water. She could feel her boots sinking. ¡°Nowhere for us to go, is there?¡± Leftrin offered.


    She glanced behind them. There was the low riverbank of trampled grasses and beyond that a snaggled forest edge of old driftwood and brush before the real forest began. From where she stood, it looked impenetrable and forbidding. ¡°We could try the forest,¡± she began.


    Leftrin gave a low laugh. There was no humor in it. ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I meant. I was talking about you and me.¡±


    Her eyes locked with his. She was startled that he had spoken so bluntly, and then decided that honesty might be the only good thing that could come from Sedric¡¯s meddling. There was no reason now for either of them to deny the attraction they felt. She wished she had the courage to take his hand. Instead, she just looked up at him and hoped he could read her eyes. He could. He sighed heavily.


    ¡°Alise. What are we going to do?¡± The question was rhetorical, but she decided she would answer it anyway.


    They walked a score of paces before she found the words she truly wanted to say. He was watching the ground as he walked;she spoke to his profile, surrendering all control of her world as she did so. ¡°I want to do whatever you want to do.¡±


    She saw those words settle on him. She had thought they would be like a blessing, but he received them as a burden. His face grew very still. He lifted his eyes. His barge rested on the bank before them and he seemed to meet its sympathetic stare. When he spoke, perhaps he spoke to his ship as much as to her. ¡°I have to do what is right,¡± he said regretfully. ¡°For both of us,¡± he added, and there was finality in his words.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be packed off back to Bingtown!¡±


    A smile twisted half his mouth. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m well aware of that, my dear. No one will be packing you off to anywhere. Where you go, you¡¯ll go of your free will or not at all.¡±

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    ¡°Just so you understand that,¡± she said and tried to sound strong and free. She reached out and took his calloused hand in hers, gripping it tight, feeling the roughness and the strength of it. He squeezed her hand carefully in response. Then he released it.


    THE DAY SEEMED DIM. Sedric closed his eyes tightly and then opened them again. It didn¡¯t help. Vertigo spun him, and he found himself groping for the wall of his compartment. The barge seemed to rock under his feet, but he knew it to be drawn up on the riverbank. Where was the handle to the damn door? He couldn¡¯t see. He leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly and fighting not to vomit.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± A deep voice at his elbow, one that was not unfamiliar. He fought to put his thoughts in order. Carson, the hunter. The one with the full ginger beard. That was who was talking to him.


    Sedric took a careful breath. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Is the light odd? It seems so dim to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bright today, man. The kind of light where I can¡¯t look at the water for too long.¡± Concern in the man¡¯s voice. Why? He scarcely knew the hunter.


    ¡°It seems dim to me.¡± Sedric tried to speak normally, but his own voice seemed far away and faint.


    ¡°Your pupils are like pinheads. Here. Take my arm. Let¡¯s ease you down on the deck.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to sit on the deck,¡± he said faintly, but if Carson heard him, he didn¡¯t pay any attention. The big man took him by the shoulders and gently but firmly sat him down on the dirty deck. He hated to think what the rough boards would do to his trousers. Yet the world did seem to rock a little less. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.


    ¡°You look like you¡¯ve been poisoned. Or drugged. You¡¯re pale as white river water. I¡¯ll be right back. I¡¯m going to get you a drink.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Sedric said faintly. The man was just a darker shadow in a dim world. He felt the man¡¯s footsteps on the deck, and even those faint vibrations seemed sickening. Then he was gone and Sedric felt other vibrations, fainter and not as rhythmic as the footsteps had been. They weren¡¯t even really vibrations, he thought sickly. But they were something¡ªsomething bad¡ªand they were directed toward him. Something knew what he had done to the brown dragon and hated him for it. Something old and powerful and dark was judging him. He closed his eyes tighter, but that only made the malevolence seem closer.


    The footsteps returned and then grew louder. He sensed the hunter crouch down by him. ¡°Here. Drink this. It¡¯ll buck you up.¡±


    He took the warm mug in his hands, smelling the dreadful coffee. He raised it to his lips, took a sip, and found the bite of harsh rum hidden in the coffee. He tried to keep from spitting it on himself, choked, swallowed it, and then coughed. He wheezed in a breath and then opened his watering eyes.


    ¡°Is that better?¡± the sadistic bastard asked him.


    ¡°Better?¡± Sedric demanded furiously, and heard his voice more strongly. He blinked away tears and could see Carson crouched on the deck in front of him. His ginger beard was lighter than his unruly mop of hair. His eyes were not brown, but that much rarer black. He was smiling at Sedric, his head cocked a little to one side. Like a cocker spaniel, Sedric thought viciously. He moved his boots against the deck, trying to get his feet under him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s walk you into the galley, shall we?¡± Carson took the mug from Sedric¡¯s hands, then with apparent ease seized him by the upper arm and hauled him to his feet.


    Sedric¡¯s head felt wobbly on his neck. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with me?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± the man asked him affably. ¡°You drink too much last night? You might have bought bad liquor in Trehaug. And if you bought any liquor in Cassarick, then it¡¯s almost definitely rotgut. They¡¯ll ferment anything there¡ªroots, peelings from fruit. Lean on me, don¡¯t fight me now. I knew one fellow tried to ferment fish skins. Not even the whole fish, just the skins. He was convinced it would work. Here. Mind your head. Sit down at the galley table. Could be if you eat something, it¡¯ll absorb whatever you drank and you¡¯ll be able to pass it.¡±


    Carson, he realized, stood a head taller than he did. And was a lot stronger. The hunter moved him along the deck and into the deckhouse and sat him down at the galley table as if he were a mother harrying a recalcitrant child to his place. The man¡¯s voice was deep and rumbling, almost soothing if one overlooked his uncouth way of putting things. Sedric braced his elbows on the sticky galley table and lowered his face into his hands. The smells of grease, smoke, and old food were making him feel worse.

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    Carson busied himself in the galley, putting something in a bowl and then pouring hot water from the kettle over it. He stood for a time, jabbing at it with a spoon, before he brought it to the table. Sedric lifted his head, looked at the mess in the bowl, and belched suddenly. The dark red taste of dragon blood rose up in his mouth and flooded his nose again. He thought again that he might faint.


    ¡°You got to feel better after that,¡± Carson observed approvingly. ¡°Here. Eat some of this. It will settle your gut.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Hardtack softened with hot water. Works like a sponge in the gut, if you got a man with a sour belly or one you got to sober up fast for a day¡¯s work.¡±


    ¡°It looks disgusting.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it does. Eat it.¡±


    He hadn¡¯t had any food, and the aftertaste of the dragon blood still lingered in his mouth and nose. Anything, he reasoned, had to be better than that. He took up the wide spoon and stirred the muck.


    The hunter¡¯s boy Davvie entered the deckhouse. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he demanded. There was a note of urgency in his voice that puzzled Sedric. He put a spoonful of soggy hardtack in his mouth. It was all texture and no taste.


    ¡°Nothing you need to worry about, Davvie.¡± Carson was firm with the boy. ¡°And you have work to do. Get after mending those nets. I¡¯m betting we won¡¯t be moving from here for most of the day. We set a net out in the current, we may get a haul of fish, maybe two. But only if the net is mended. So get to it.¡±


    ¡°What about him? What¡¯s the matter with him?¡± The boy¡¯s voice sounded almost accusing.


    ¡°He¡¯s sick, not that it¡¯s any of your business. You get about your work and leave your elders and your betters to their own. Out.¡±


    Davvie didn¡¯t quite slam the door but shut it more firmly than he needed to. ¡°Boys!¡± Carson exclaimed in disgust. ¡°They think they know what they want, but if I gave it to him¡­well. He¡¯d find out that he just wasn¡¯t ready for it. But I¡¯m sure you know what I mean.¡±


    Sedric swallowed the sticky mass in his mouth. It had absorbed the dragon blood taste. He ate another spoonful, and then realized that Carson was looking at him, waiting for a response. ¡°I don¡¯t have any children. I¡¯m not married,¡± he said, and took another spoonful. Carson had been right. His stomach was settling, and his head was clearing.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you did.¡± Carson smiled as if at a shared joke. ¡°I don¡¯t either. But you look to me like someone who would have had some experience of boys like Davvie.¡±


    ¡°No. I haven¡¯t.¡± He was grateful for the man¡¯s rustic remedy, but he wished he¡¯d stop talking to him and go away. His own whirling thoughts filled his head and he felt he needed time to sort them rather than filling his brain with polite conversation. Carson¡¯s words about poison had unsettled him. Whatever had he been thinking, to put dragon blood in his mouth? He couldn¡¯t remember the impulse to do so, only that he¡¯d done it. His only intention had been to take blood and scales from the beast. Dragon parts were worth a fortune, and a fortune was what he was after. He wasn¡¯t proud of what he¡¯d done, but he¡¯d had to do it. He had no choice. The only way that he and Hest would ever leave Bingtown together would be if Sedric could amass the wealth to finance it. Dragon blood and dragon scales would buy him the life he¡¯d always dreamed of.


    It had seemed so simple, when he¡¯d crept away from the boat to harvest what he needed from the sickly dragon. The creature was obviously dying. What would it matter to anyone if Sedric took a few scales? The glass vials had weighed heavy in his hands as he filled them with blood. He¡¯d meant to sell it to the Duke of Chalced as a remedy for his aches and pains and advancing age. He¡¯d never even considered drinking it himself. He could not even remember wanting to drink it, let alone deciding that he would.


    Dragon blood was reputed to have extraordinary healing powers, but perhaps like other medicines, it could be toxic, too. Had he truly poisoned himself? Was he going to be all right? He wished he could ask someone;it came to him abruptly that Alise might know. She¡¯d done so much research on dragons, surely she must know something about the effects their blood could have on a man. But how could he ask such a question? Was there any way to frame it that didn¡¯t incriminate him?


    ¡°That pudding helping your stomach at all?¡±


    Sedric looked up suddenly, and regretted it. Vertigo rocked him briefly and then cleared. ¡°Yes. Yes, it is.¡± The hunter sat down across from him and kept looking at him. Those black eyes locked with his own, as if they wished to see inside Sedric¡¯s head. He looked down at his bowl and forced himself to take another mouthful of the stuff. It was helping his stomach, but he didn¡¯t enjoy the experience of eating it. He glanced up again at the watchful hunter. ¡°Thank you for your help. I don¡¯t mean to keep you from your duties. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be fine now. As you say, it was probably something I drank or ate. So you needn¡¯t bother about me.¡±

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    ¡°It¡¯s no bother.¡±


    Again the man waited, as if there was something he expected Sedric to say. He was at a loss. He looked down at his ¡°food¡± again. ¡°I¡¯m fine, then. Thank you.¡±


    And still the man lingered, but now Sedric refused to look up from his bowl. He ate steadily in small bites, trying to seem as if it demanded all his attention. The hunter¡¯s attention flustered him. When he rose from his seat across the table, Sedric repressed a sigh of relief. As Carson passed behind Sedric, he put a heavy hand on his shoulder and leaned down to speak right next to his ear. ¡°We should talk some time,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I suspect we have far more in common than you know. Perhaps we should trust each other.¡±


    He knows. The thought sliced through Sedric¡¯s aplomb and he nearly choked on his mouthful of sodden bread. ¡°Perhaps,¡± he managed to say and felt the grip on his shoulder tighten briefly. The hunter chuckled as he lifted his hand and left the deckhouse. As the door shut firmly behind him, Sedric pushed the bowl away and cradled his head on his arms. Now what? He asked the enclosed darkness. Now what?


    THE BROWN DRAGON looked dead. Thymara longed to go closer and have a better look at her, but the golden dragon standing over her intimidated her. Mercor had scarcely moved since the last time she had walked past them. His gleaming black eyes fixed on her now. He did not speak, but she felt the mental push he gave her. ¡°I¡¯m only worried about her,¡± she said aloud. Sylve had been dozing, leaned back against her dragon¡¯s front leg. She opened her eyes at the sound of Thymara¡¯s voice. She gave Mercor an apologetic glance and then came over to Thymara.


    ¡°He¡¯s suspicious,¡± she said. ¡°He thinks someone hurt the brown dragon on purpose. So he¡¯s standing watch to protect her.¡±


    ¡°To protect her, or to be first to eat her when she dies?¡± Thymara managed to keep all accusation out of her voice.


    Sylve did not take offense. ¡°To protect her. He has seen too many of the dragons die since they came out of their cocoons. There are so few females that even one who is stunted and dull-witted must be protected.¡± She laughed in an odd way and added, ¡°Rather like us.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Like us keepers. Only four of us are females and all the rest males. Mercor says that no matter how deformed we are, the males must protect us.¡±


    The statement left Thymara speechless. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to her face, touching the scales that traced her jawline and cheekbones. She considered the ramifications of it and then said bluntly, ¡°We can¡¯t marry or mate, Sylve. We all know the rules, even if Mercor does not. The Rain Wilds marked most of us from the day we were born, and we all know what it means. A shorter life span. If we do conceive, most of our children aren¡¯t viable. By custom, most of us should have been exposed at birth. We all know why we were chosen for this expedition, and it wasn¡¯t just so we could care for the dragons. It was to get rid of us as well.¡±


    Sylve stared at her for a long moment. Then she said quietly, ¡°What you say is true, or used to be true for us. But Greft says we can change the rules. He says that when we get to Kelsingra, it will become our city where we will live with our dragons. And we will make our own rules. About everything.¡±


    Thymara was appalled at the girl¡¯s gullibility. ¡°Sylve, we don¡¯t even know if Kelsingra still exists. It¡¯s probably buried in the mud like the other Elderling cities. I never really believed we¡¯d get to Kelsingra. I think the best we can really hope for is to find a place suitable for the dragons to live.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡± Sylve demanded. ¡°We leave them there and go back home, back to Trehaug? And do what? Go back to living in shadows and shame, apologizing for existing? I won¡¯t do it, Thymara. A lot of the keepers have said they won¡¯t do it. Wherever our dragons settle, that¡¯s where we¡¯re staying, too. So there will be a new place for us. And new rules.¡±


    A loud snapping sound distracted Thymara. She and Sylve both turned to see Mercor stretching. He had lifted his golden wings and extended them to their full length. Thymara was surprised to see not only the size of them but that they were marked with eyes like a peacock¡¯s feathers. As she watched, he flapped them again, sharply, gusting wind and the scent of dragon at her. She watched him refold them awkwardly, as if moving them were an unfamiliar task. He snugged them firmly to his back again and resumed his watchful stance over the brown dragon.


    Thymara was suddenly aware that a communication had passed between Mercor and Sylve. The dragon had not made a sound, but Thymara had sensed something even if she was not a party to it. Sylve gave her an apologetic look and asked, ¡°Are you going hunting today?¡±

 Page 8

    ¡°I might. It doesn¡¯t look as if we¡¯re going to do any traveling today.¡± She tried not to think of the obvious¡ªthat until the brown died they were all stuck here.


    ¡°If you do and you get fresh meat¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll share what I can,¡± Thymara replied instantly. She tried not to regret the promise. Meat for Sintara, and meat for the sickly copper and the dim-witted silver dragon. Why had she ever volunteered to help care for them? She couldn¡¯t even keep Sintara well fed. And now she had just said she¡¯d try to bring meat for Sylve¡¯s golden dragon, Mercor. She hoped the hunters were going out as well.


    In the days since the dragons had made their first kill, they had learned to do some hunting and fishing for themselves. None of them was an exceptional predator. Dragons were meant to hunt on the wing, not lumber after prey on the ground. Nonetheless, all of them had enjoyed some success. The change in diet to freshly killed meat and fish seemed to have affected almost all of them. They were thinner, but more muscular. As Thymara strode past some of the dragons, she looked at them critically. With surprise, she realized that they now more closely resembled the depictions of dragons she had seen in various Elderling artifacts. She halted where she was to watch them for a moment.


    Arbuc, a silver-green male, was splashing along in the shallows. Every now and then he thrust his whole head into the water, much to the amusement of Alum, his keeper. Alum waded alongside, fish spear at the ready, even as his frolicking dragon drove off any possible game. As she watched, Arbuc spread his wings. They were ridiculously long for him, but he beat them anyway, battering water up and showering Alum with it. His keeper yelled his disapproval and the dragon stopped and stood puzzled, his arched wings dripping. She looked at him and wondered.


    Abruptly, she turned her steps and went looking for Sintara. Sintara, not Skymaw, she reminded herself moodily. Why had it injured her pride so much to learn that some of the dragons had never concealed their true names from their keepers? Jerd had probably known her dragon¡¯s name since the first day. Sylve had. She clenched her teeth. Sintara was more beautiful than any of them. Why did she have to have such a difficult temperament?


    She found the blue dragon sprawled disconsolately on a patch of muddy reeds and grasses. The dragon rested her head on her front paws and stared out at the moving water. She didn¡¯t lift her head or give any indication she was aware of Thymara until she spoke. ¡°We should be moving, not waiting here. There are not many days left before the winter rains, and when they come, the river will run deeper and swifter. We should be using this time to seek for Kelsingra.¡±


    ¡°Then you think we should leave the brown dragon?¡±


    ¡°Relpda,¡± Sintara replied, a vindictive note creeping into her thoughts. ¡°Why should her true name remain unknown while mine is not?¡± Sintara lifted her head and suddenly stretched out her front feet and extended her claws. ¡°And she would be copper, not brown, if proper care were given to her. Look here. I¡¯ve split a claw end. It¡¯s from too much walking in the water over rock. I want you to get twine and bind it for me. Coat it with some of that tar you used on the silver¡¯s tail.¡±


    ¡°Let me see.¡± The claw was frayed and softened from too much time in water. It had begun to split at the end, but luckily it hadn¡¯t reached the quick yet. ¡°I¡¯ll go ask Captain Leftrin if he has twine and tar to spare. While we¡¯re at it, let¡¯s look at the rest of you. Are your other claws all right?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all getting a bit soft,¡± Sintara admitted. She stretched her other front foot toward Thymara and spread her toes, extending her claws. Thymara bit her lip as she checked them;they were all slightly frayed at the ends, like hard driftwood finally surrendering to damp. Thinking of wood gave her a possible solution. ¡°I wonder if we could oil them. Or varnish them to keep the water away.¡±


    The dragon twitched her foot back, very nearly knocking Thymara over. She examined her claws herself and then responded with a reserved, ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    ¡°Stand up and stretch out, please. I need to check you for dirt and parasites.¡±


    The dragon rumbled a protest but slowly obeyed. Thymara walked slowly around her. She hadn¡¯t imagined the changes. Sintara had lost weight but gained muscle. The constant immersion in river water was not good for her scales, but walking against the current was strengthening the dragon. ¡°Open your wings, please,¡± Thymara requested.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± Sintara replied primly.


    ¡°Do you want to shelter parasites in their folds?¡±

 Page 9

    The dragon rumbled again but gave her wings a shudder and then unfolded them. The skin clung together like a parasol stored too long in the damp, and it smelled unpleasant. Her scales looked unhealthy, the feathery edges showing white, like layers of leaves going to mold.


    ¡°This is not good,¡± Thymara exclaimed in dismay. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever wash them? Or shake them out and exercise them? Your skin needs sunlight. And a good scrubbing.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not so bad,¡± the dragon hissed.


    ¡°No. They¡¯re damp in the folds and smelly. At least leave them unfolded to air while I go get something to help your claws.¡± Heedless of Sintara¡¯s dignity, Thymara seized the tip of one of the dragon¡¯s finger-ribs and pulled the wing out straight. The dragon tried to close her wing but Thymara held on stubbornly. It was entirely too easy for her to hold the wing open. The dragon¡¯s muscles should have been stronger. She tried to think of the right word for it. Atrophy. Sintara¡¯s wing muscles were atrophying from disuse. ¡°Sintara, if you don¡¯t listen to me and take care of your wings, soon you won¡¯t be able to move them at all.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think such a thing!¡± the dragon hissed at her. She gave a violent flap and Thymara lost her grip and fell to her knees in the mud. She looked up at the dragon as Sintara began indignantly to fold her wings again.


    ¡°Wait. Wait, what¡¯s that? Sintara, open your wing again. Let me look under it. That looked like a rasp snake under there!¡±


    The dragon halted. ¡°What¡¯s a rasp snake?¡±


    ¡°They live in the canopy. They¡¯re skinny as twigs but long. They¡¯re really fast when they strike, and they have a tooth, like an egg tooth, on their snouts. They bite and hold on, and dig their heads in. And then they just hang there and feed. I¡¯ve seen monkeys with so many on them that they look like they have a hundred tails. Usually the animal gets an infection around the head and dies from that. They¡¯re nasty. Unfold your wing. Let me look.¡±


    It hung from high under the wing, a long nasty snakelike body. When Thymara braved herself to touch it, the dangling thing suddenly lashed about angrily and Sintara gave a startled chirp of pain. ¡°What is it? Get it off me!¡± the dragon exclaimed and thrust her head under her wing and seized the parasite.


    ¡°Stop! Don¡¯t bite it, don¡¯t pull on it. If you rip it off you, the head will tear free and stay inside and make a terrible infection. Let go, Sintara. Let go of it and let me deal with it!¡±


    Sintara¡¯s eyes glittered, copper disks whirling, but she obeyed. ¡°Get it off me.¡± The dragon spoke in a tight, furious voice, and Thymara was jolted to feel, beneath Sintara¡¯s anger, her fear. An instant later, Sintara added in a low hiss. ¡°Hurry. I can feel it moving. It¡¯s trying to dig deeper into me. To hide inside my body.¡±


    ¡°Sa save us all!¡± Thymara exclaimed. Her gorge rose in revulsion, and she tried to recall how her father had said one got rid of a little rasp snake. ¡°Not fire, no. They dig deeper if you put fire to them. There was something else.¡± She searched her memory desperately, and then had it. ¡°Whisky. I have to go see if Captain Leftrin has whisky. Don¡¯t move.¡±


    ¡°Hurry,¡± Sintara pleaded.


    Thymara ran toward the barge, then caught sight of the captain and Alise strolling together. She changed her course and raced toward them, shouting, ¡°Captain Leftrin! Captain Leftrin, I need your help!¡±


    At her cries, both the captain and Alise turned and hurried toward her. She was out of breath by the time they reached each other, and to Leftrin¡¯s worried, ¡°What¡¯s wrong, girl?¡± she could only reply, ¡°Rasp snake. On Sintara. Biggest I¡¯ve ever seen. Going into her chest, under her wing.¡±


    ¡°Those damned things!¡± he exclaimed, and Thymara could only feel gratitude that she didn¡¯t have to explain it.


    She caught a gasping breath. ¡°My father used liquor to make them back out.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, tereben oil works better. Trust me on that. Had to get one out of my own leg once. Come on, girl. I¡¯ve got some on board. Alise! If one dragon has a rasp snake, chances are the others do, too. Tell the keepers to check their animals. And that brown one, the one that¡¯s down? Check her, too. Look on her underbelly. They¡¯ll go for a soft place for an easy bite and then dig in.¡±


    Alise felt a surge of purpose as Leftrin turned away from her and headed back toward the barge. She hastened down the beach, going from keeper to keeper, giving the warning. Greft almost immediately found one dangling from Kalo¡¯s belly, concealed by one of his hind legs. There were three fastened to Sestican;she¡¯d thought for a moment that his keeper, Lecter, was going to faint when he discovered three short ends of snakes poking out from his dragon¡¯s nether regions. She spoke to him sharply to jolt him from his panic, directing him to take his dragon over to where Sintara was and to wait for Leftrin there. The boy seemed shocked that she could speak so severely. He gave a gulp, recovered himself, and obeyed her.

 Page 10

    She swallowed her own shock at that and hurried on. When she came to Sylve and the golden dragon guarding the dirty brown one, she had to pause and rebuild her courage for a moment. She did not want to confront him;she wanted nothing more than to turn and hasten away. It took her a moment to convince herself that what she felt was not her own cowardice, but the dragon¡¯s efforts to repulse her. She squared her shoulders and marched up to him and his keeper.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to check the brown dragon for parasites. Some of the other dragons have been attacked by rasp snakes. Your keeper should check you over while I look at the brown dragon.¡±


    For a time the gold just stared at her. How could solid black eyes glitter so bleakly?


    ¡°Rasp snakes?¡±


    ¡°A parasitic burrowing creature. Thymara says she knows of them from the canopy. But these, she thinks, come from the river. They are much larger. It¡¯s a snake that bites and eats its way in, to live off your flesh.¡±


    ¡°Disgusting!¡± Mercor declared. The gold immediately stood and spread his wings. ¡°It makes me itch to think of it. Sylve, check me for those creatures immediately.¡±


    ¡°I groomed you completely today, Mercor. I do not think I would have missed such a thing. But I will check you.¡±


    ¡°And I must look at the brown dragon to see if she has any,¡± Alise asserted firmly.


    She had expected Mercor to oppose her. Instead, he seemed completely distracted by the thought that he himself might have such a parasite.


    Alise ventured toward the impassive copper dragon. She was crumpled on the ground in a way that was going to make inspecting her underbelly difficult if not impossible. And Sylve was right. The coating of mud on the dragon was so even that it almost looked deliberate. It was going to have to come off before she could tell much of anything about the creature.


    She glanced helplessly toward Sylve, but the small girl had her hands full with Mercor. An instant later, her first impulse shamed her. What had she thought to do? Summon the Rain Wild child to have her clean the dragon so that Alise could inspect her without getting her hands dirty? How arrogant a thought was that? For years, she had been claiming she was an expert on dragons, yet at her first opportunity to tend to one, she quailed at a bit of mud? No. Not Alise Kincarron.


    Not far from where the copper dragon sprawled, part of a bank of coarse reeds remained untrampled, their tasseled heads standing half as tall as Alise. She drew her little belt knife, cut half a dozen of them, folded them into a coarse cushion of reeds, and, returning to the dragon, began to give her a good scrubbing with it, starting at the creature¡¯s upper shoulder.


    The dried mud was river silt and it came away surprisingly easily. Alise¡¯s coarse brush bared coppery scales that quickly took on a lovely sheen as she worked on the poor creature. Relpda did not make a sound, yet Alise thought she sensed a dim gratitude from the prostrate dragon. She redoubled her efforts, moving her scrubbing rushes down the dragon¡¯s spine. As she worked, the size of a dragon was forcibly impressed on, not just her mind, but her muscles. The area of skin to be cleaned suddenly reminded her of the routine work of the crew scrubbing the barge¡¯s deck. And this was a small dragon. She glanced over her shoulder at the gleaming gold of Mercor¡¯s scaled hide and mentally compared it to the small pink-scalped girl who tended him. How much of each evening did the girl devote to her task?


    As if Sylve had sensed her gaze, she turned to Alise. ¡°He¡¯s clean, every inch of him. No snakes on him. I¡¯ll help you with Relpda now.¡±


    Her pride made Alise want to say she had her task well in hand. Instead she heard herself say ¡°Thank you¡± with utter gratitude. The girl smiled at her, and for an instant her lips caught a glint of light from the sun. Was her mouth scaled, too? Alise jerked her stare away and renewed her scrubbing efforts, sending a cascade of fine silt from Relpda¡¯s hip to the damp earth below her. Sylve had not seemed so scaly when she¡¯d first seen the girl. Was she changing as much as the dragons were?


    Sylve came to join her, carrying a coarse reed ¡°brush¡± of her own. ¡°This is a really good idea. I¡¯ve been using evergreen boughs when I can get them, and handfuls of leaves when I can¡¯t. But this works much better.¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯d had the time to weave the stems and leaves together, I think it would work even better. But this will get the job done, I think.¡± Alise had a hard time speaking and scrubbing at the same time. Her years in Hest¡¯s house had softened her. As a girl, she¡¯d always helped with the household cleaning;her family had not been able to afford many servants. Now she could feel sweat damping her back and blisters starting to form on her hands. Her shoulder already ached. Well, so be it! A little hard work never hurt anyone. And when she looked back over the area of dragon that she had cleaned, she felt a rush of pride.

 Page 11

    ¡°What¡¯s this? What¡¯s this? Is this a snake hole?¡± The fear and distress in Sylve¡¯s voice seemed to infect her dragon. Mercor came lumbering over and swung his large head down to snort at a spot on the copper dragon¡¯s neck.


    ¡°What does it look like?¡± Alise asked, leery of coming closer while the golden was so intent.


    ¡°A raw spot. The dirt around it was damp, maybe with blood. She¡¯s not bleeding now, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Something jabbed her there,¡± Mercor opined. ¡°But it¡¯s not a ¡®snake hole¡¯ my dear. Still, the blood smell is strong, so she bled quite a bit.¡±


    Alise found her wits. ¡°I don¡¯t think the snakes make a hole and crawl inside. I think they only stick their heads in and drink blood.¡±


    Mercor stood absolutely still, his head still hanging over the copper dragon. His eyes were black on shining black;still Alise had a sense of that color slowly swirling in them. He seemed to go away from them for a time. Then he shuddered his coat, rippling his scales in a way that reminded her more of a cat than a reptile. An instant later, she felt again the presence of his mind, and marveled. If he had not briefly left them, she would never have recognized how strongly he affected her when he was focused on them.


    ¡°I do not know about snakes called rasp snakes. These things you describe, I have heard of, long ago, and then they were called burrowers. They dug in deep. They may be more dangerous than the rasp snakes the other keeper spoke about.¡±


    ¡°Sa have mercy,¡± Sylve said quietly. She stood silently a moment, her rush scrubber still in her hands. Then she abruptly walked around the dragon and pushed her. ¡°Relpda!¡± she shouted, as if to penetrate the dragon¡¯s stupor. ¡°Roll over. I want to see your belly. Roll over!¡±


    To Alise¡¯s astonishment, the sickly dragon stirred. She moved her hind legs feebly against the mud she sprawled in. She lifted a wobbly head, unlidded her eyes, and then let her head drop back to the earth. ¡°Move away,¡± Mercor directed them roughly, and both women obeyed him promptly, jumping back to be clear of the prone dragon. Mercor lowered his head, thrust his muzzle under Relpda, and tried to turn her over. She rumbled a feeble protest and scrabbled her legs as if the motion pained her.


    ¡°Is he eating her? I don¡¯t think she¡¯s dead!¡± The protest came from another dragon keeper who had suddenly joined him. Rapskal, Alise thought. Was that his name? He was a handsome lad, despite his Rain Wild strangeness. His thick dark hair and black clawed hands contrasted oddly with his pale blue eyes and angelic smile. His dragon was with him, a dumpy red creature with stumpy legs and a brilliant sheen to her scales. When Rapskal stopped to stare, the small dragon leaned her head affectionately against her young keeper, nearly knocking him over. ¡°Stop it, Heeby. You¡¯re bigger and stronger than you know! Stand up on your own feet.¡± There was more affection than rebuke in his voice. He gave his dragon a shove, and she playfully nudged him back.


    ¡°Mercor¡¯s not trying to eat her,¡± Sylve explained indignantly. ¡°He¡¯s trying to turn her over so we can check her belly for parasites. There¡¯s a snake kind of creature¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know. I was just over watching them get them out of Sestican. Just about made me puke to see them back out, and Lecter was almost crying and blaming himself. I¡¯ve never seen him so broken up before.¡±


    ¡°But they got them out?¡±


    ¡°Yes, indeed they did. Must have hurt, though. That big blue dragon was squeaking like a mouse as they came out. I don¡¯t know what Captain Leftrin had mixed up, but they put it around the hole where the snake went in and pretty soon it started thrashing its tail, and then it started backing out. Lots of blood and goop come with it, and hoo, what a stink! And then when it finally dropped to the ground, Tats jumped on it and chopped it up with an ax. Made me glad I check my Heeby from top to toe every day. Right, Heeby?¡±


    The red dragon gave a snort in response and shoved Rapskal again, sending the boy staggering. His account had made Alise feel a bit queasy, but Sylve had other things on her mind. ¡°Rapskal, can you get Heeby to help Mercor? We¡¯re trying to turn the copper dragon onto her back.¡±


    ¡°Well, sure I can. All I got to do is ask her. Hey, Heeby! Heeby, look here, look at me. Heeby, listen. Listen, girl. Help Mercor turn the copper dragon onto her back. Understand? Help him turn her over? Can you do it? Can my big strong dragon do that for me? Sure she can. Come on, Heeby. Put your nose under here, right here, just like Mercor. That¡¯s my girl. Now lift and push, Heeby, lift and push!¡±

 Page 12

    The little red dragon dug her feet in. As Alise watched, the muscles in her short thick neck bulged. She made a rumbling noise of great effort, and suddenly Relpda began to move. She gave a squeal of pain, but both Mercor and Heeby ignored it. Pushing and grunting, they turned her onto her back. Her legs waved feebly in the air. ¡°Hold her there, Heeby. That¡¯s my girl. Hold her there!¡± And in response to Rapskal¡¯s cries, the small red dragon braced herself and stood with her head butted up against the copper. Her neck muscles bulged, but her golden eyes spun in pleasure to her keeper¡¯s loud praises.


    ¡°Look there!¡± Mercor said, and Alise stared in horror. The copper dragon¡¯s muddy belly was studded with snake tails. There were at least a dozen, the exposed stubs twitching and writhing because their victim had been moved. Sylve covered her mouth with both her hands and stepped back. She rocked her head from side to side and spoke breathlessly through her fingers.


    ¡°She never let me groom her belly. I tried. I did try! She always pulled away from me and rubbed it in the mud. She was trying to get rid of them, wasn¡¯t she, Mercor? She wouldn¡¯t let me groom her belly because it hurt.¡±


    ¡°Her mind was not clear enough for her to know that you could help her,¡± Mercor said heavily. ¡°No one blames you, Sylve. You did what you could for her.¡±


    ¡°Is she dead?¡± The call reached them, and all heads turned. Thymara and Tats were coming at a trot. Captain Leftrin was close behind them. Sintara was following at a more dignified pace. Behind them, half a dozen other keepers and dragons were converging.


    ¡°No! But she¡¯s infested with them. I don¡¯t know if we can save her.¡± Sylve¡¯s voice broke on the words.


    ¡°Try,¡± Mercor commanded her sternly, but then he leaned over the girl and gently blew his breath down on her. At most, it could have been a gentle breeze, but Sylve swayed in it. To Alise, the sudden change in the girl¡¯s countenance was stunning. And frightening. Sylve went from a near-hysterical child to a calm woman. She drew herself up taller, glanced up at her dragon, and smiled at him.


    ¡°We will.¡± She looked over at Alise and said, ¡°First, we will use our reed brushes to clean away as much of the mud as we can. Heeby, you will have to hold her in this position, on her back. She will not like what we do, but I think we must clear the mud from her injuries before we can treat them.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense to me,¡± Alise concurred, and wondered where the poise had come from. Was she seeing Sylve as she was when her own doubts didn¡¯t taunt her, or was this, somehow, an overlay of the dragon Mercor? Alise took up her reed scrubber and turned it to a fresh spot. She approached the dragon cautiously. The copper might be small and weak for a dragon, but a kick from any of her gently waving legs would send a human flying. And if she struggled and rolled over onto a keeper, serious injuries would result.


    THYMARA HALTED AND stared at Alise. For a moment, the Bingtown woman looked like a different person. She was scrubbing away at the belly of the copper dragon, heedless of dust and mud that cascaded onto her trousers and boots. Dust coated her face, and her blouse was filthy to the elbows. Even her pale eyelashes were laden with dust. Yet her expression was one of determination, and almost pleasure in her task. When had she changed from being an elegant Bingtown lady, impeccably dressed and with manners to match? A grudging admiration stirred in Thymara.


    Heeby stood, her scarlet head lowered and braced against the copper dragon, pinning her in an ungainly belly-up posture. Rapskal stood at her shoulder, proudly patting his dragon and murmuring praise of her. Mercor hovered over the group, while Sylve appeared to be in charge of the operation. The girl also looked different, Thymara thought, though she could not quite put her finger on what it was.


    She took two steps closer and felt ill. Barely exposed snake tails dotted the dragon¡¯s belly. She swallowed hard. It had been awful to watch the writhing parasite exit from Sintara¡¯s body. The snake had not been in her long, and most of its body had still been outside the dragon¡¯s. Once Leftrin had daubed the strong smelling tereben oil around the injury, the snake had gone limp, and then suddenly began to lash wildly. The dragon had trumpeted her distress. Thymara had stepped forward hastily and seized the lashing snake by the tail. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯m applying more oil!¡± Leftrin had warned her.


    At the second application, the snake had become frantic. It had begun to writhe backward out of the dragon, and as the length of bloody snake emerged, Thymara had forced herself to seize it and hold on lest it try to reenter the dragon. It had slithered and slipped in her grip. Sintara had blasted news of her pain and the other dragons and keepers had begun to gather around her. As the final length of the snake had emerged, the animal had whipped its head about, splattering Thymara¡¯s face with blood as it tried to attack the creature who gripped it. She had shrieked as the blood hit her and flung the animal to the ground. Tats had been ready and waiting with a hatchet. It hadn¡¯t got far. She¡¯d stood numbly, shaking with her dragon¡¯s shared pain. She¡¯d dragged her sleeve across her face, but it only smeared the thick blood more. It had smelled and tasted of dragon, and even now, after she¡¯d washed it off, the clinging scent of it filled her nose, and she could not be rid of the taste of it. Afterward, Leftrin had swabbed the injury with rum and then sealed it over with a daub of tar lest the acid river water ulcerate it. The captain spoke as he worked. ¡°After this, you¡¯ll have to do nightly checks of your dragons. Those snakes got something in their mouths that numbs the flesh. You don¡¯t even feel one burrowing in. I got a little one in my leg once, didn¡¯t even know it was there until I got out of the water.¡±

 Page 13

    As Alise and Sylve worked, the copper dragon made small sounds of pain. Thymara squatted down beside her to look into her face, but the dragon¡¯s eyes were closed. She wondered if Relpda was even conscious. She stood up again slowly. ¡°Well, at least we know what¡¯s wrong with her now. If we can get them out of her, clean her wounds, and seal them against the river water, maybe she¡¯ll have a chance.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve cleaned away enough dirt. Let¡¯s get them out of her,¡± Sylve decided.


    Thymara stood with the circle of watchers, staring in sick fascination. As Leftrin stepped forward with his pot and brush, she turned aside. Ever since Sintara¡¯s blood had hit her face, it was all she could smell or taste. She had no desire to see more of it tonight. When she saw Sintara waiting on the outskirts of the gathering, Thymara pushed through the other onlookers to get to her dragon. ¡°I don¡¯t want to watch this,¡± she told her in a low voice. ¡°It was hard to see one snake removed from you, and you hadn¡¯t carried it long. I can¡¯t watch this.¡±


    Sintara turned her head to regard her keeper. Her copper eyes whirled, and suddenly they appeared molten to Thymara, pools of liquid copper whirling against the gleaming backdrop of her lapis lazuli scales. Dragon glamour, she tried to warn herself, but couldn¡¯t care. She let herself be drawn into that gaze, let herself become important because of the dragon¡¯s regard for her. A tiny cynical part of her snidely asked if a dragon¡¯s regard truly made her important. She ignored it.


    ¡°You should go hunting,¡± Sintara suggested to her.


    She was reluctant to leave the dragon. Moving away from her glorious copper gaze would be like leaving the warmth of a cheery fire on a cold and stormy night. She clung to the dragon¡¯s gaze, refusing to believe her dragon might wish her to leave.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry,¡± Sintara said softly. ¡°Won¡¯t you go and find food for me?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Thymara responded promptly, overcome by Sintara¡¯s will.


    Sintara¡¯s voice grew very soft, as if it were no more than a breath blowing past Thymara¡¯s ear. ¡°Greft and Jerd went into the forest not so long ago. Perhaps they know where the hunting is good. Perhaps you should follow them.¡±


    That stung. ¡°I am a better hunter than Greft will ever be,¡± she told her dragon. ¡°I¡¯ve no need to follow him.¡±


    ¡°Nonetheless, I think you should,¡± Sintara insisted, and suddenly it did not seem like a bad idea. A thought teased at the edge of Thymara¡¯s mind;if Greft had already made a kill, perhaps she could help herself to a share, just as he had with hers. She still had not paid him back for that trespass.


    ¡°Go on,¡± Sintara urged her, and she went.


    EACH OF THE keepers had formed the habit of keeping their gear in their boats. Dealing with Rapskal¡¯s untidiness was a daily trial for Thymara. When she thought about it, it seemed unfair that a random choice on the first day had doomed her to be his partner. The others regularly rotated partners, but Rapskal had no interest in such swaps. And she doubted she would find anyone willing to take him on, even if she could persuade him to try it. His strangeness was too great. Yet he was handsome, and adept on the river. And always optimistic. She tried to recall him speaking crossly, and could not. She smiled to herself. So he was strange. It was a strangeness that she could get used to. She pushed his gear bag to one side and rummaged in her own for her hunting items.


    Away from Sintara¡¯s gaze, it was easier to think about what she was doing and why. She recognized that the dragon had exerted some sort of glamour over her. Yet even being aware of it did not disperse it entirely. She had nothing more pressing to do, and certainly they could use the meat;they could always use the meat. The copper would benefit from a meal after they¡¯d cleared the snakes off her, and certainly Mercor could do with some meat. But as she slung her bag over her shoulder, she wondered if she were merely trying to find a more acceptable reason to let herself follow the dragon¡¯s suggestion. She shrugged at the uselessness of wondering about it and set off for the forest eaves.


    The shores of the Rain Wild River were never the same and never different. Some days, they passed ranks of needled and lacy fronded evergreens. The next day those dark green ranks might give way gradually to endless columns of white-trunked trees with reaching pale-green leaves, and all their branches festooned with dangling vines and creepers heavy with late blossoms and ripening fruit. Today there was a wide and reedy bank, with ranks of rushes topped with tufts of fluffy seedheads. The bank was only silt and sand, temporary land that might vanish in the next flood. Beyond it and only slightly elevated above it a forest of gray-barked giants with wide spreading branches chilled the earth with their eternal shade. Vines as thick as her waist dropped down from those spreading branches, creating an undergrowth as restrictive as the bars of a cage.

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    It was easy enough to follow Greft¡¯s trail through the marsh grasses. Water was already welling up in some places to fill his boot tracks. The prints of Jerd¡¯s bare feet were less visible. Thymara scarcely gave her mind to her tracking, thinking instead of the dragon. The more time and distance she acquired from Sintara, the clearer became her own thoughts. Why Sintara had sent her hunting was an easy question to answer;the dragon was always hungry. Thymara had intended to hunt today anyway;she did not mind her errand. More puzzling was why the dragon had suddenly decided to make the effort to charm her. She never had before. Did that mean that she now considered Thymara more important than she had previously?


    A thought light as wafting bulrush down floated into her mind. ¡°Perhaps she could not use her glamour before. Perhaps she grows stronger in many ways, not just physically, as she challenges herself.¡±


    She had whispered the words aloud. Was the thought hers, or had she, briefly, touched minds with one of the other dragons? That question was as disturbing as the thought itself. Was Sintara acquiring more of the powers that legends associated with dragons? Were the other dragons? And if so, how would they use them? Would their keepers be blinded by glamours, to become little more than fawning slaves?


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way. It¡¯s more like a mother loves a wayward child.¡± Again she spoke the words aloud. She stopped, just beneath the eaves of the forest, and shook her head wildly, making her black braids whip against her neck. The small charms and beads that adorned them snapped against her neck. ¡°Stop it!¡± she hissed at whoever was invading her thoughts. ¡°Leave me alone.¡±


    Not a wise choice, but the choice is yours, human.


    And like a gauzy mantle lifting from her head and shoulders, the presence was gone. ¡°Who are you?¡± she demanded, but whoever it had been was gone. Mercor? She wondered. ¡°I should have asked that question first,¡± she muttered to herself as she entered the thick shade of the forest. In the dimmer light, Greft¡¯s trail was not as easy to follow, but he had still left plenty of signs. And she had not gone far before she no longer needed to bother with tracking him. She heard his voice, his words indistinct, and then another voice in reply to his. Jerd, she thought. They must be hunting together. She went more slowly and quietly, and then came to a complete halt.


    Sintara had all but insisted she follow them. Why? She suddenly felt very awkward. How would it seem to them if she suddenly came up on them? What would Jerd think? Would Greft see it as her admitting he was a better hunter than she was? She moved up into a tree and began to traverse from branch to branch. She was curious to see if he¡¯d made a kill yet and if so, what he¡¯d taken down, but she had no desire for them to know she was there. Their voices came more clearly, a scattering of words. Jerd said she ¡°didn¡¯t understand¡± and there was anger in her voice. Greft¡¯s voice was deeper and harder to follow. She heard him say, ¡°Jess isn¡¯t a bad man, even if he¡± and then his words were too soft to follow. She edged closer, thanking Sa for the black claws she dug in to the slippery bark. She changed trees again, moving from one thick branch to another, and then she was suddenly looking down on Jerd and Greft.


    They weren¡¯t hunting. She doubted they had been hunting. It took a long moment for her mind to make sense of what her eyes saw. They were naked and lying next to each other on a blanket. Their discarded clothing was draped on nearby bushes. Greft¡¯s scaling was blue and covered far more of his body than Thymara had ever suspected. He was turned away from her as he reclined. In the dim light of the forest, he looked like a large lizard trying to find a sunning spot. What little light there was touched the long line of his hip and thigh down to his knee.


    Jerd faced him. She lay on her belly, her chin propped on her elbows. Her bushy blond hair was even more disorderly than usual. Greft¡¯s hand was on her bare shoulder. Her body was long and slender, and the line of greenish scaling down her spine suddenly seemed beautiful to Thymara. It gleamed in the dim light, a rivulet of emerald shining down her back. Her legs were bent at the knee, and her heavily scaled calves and feet gently waved in the air as she replied to Greft. ¡°How could you even suggest it? It is exactly the opposite of what we promised to do.¡±


    He shrugged one naked shoulder, making the light move in a sapphire line on his back. ¡°I don¡¯t see it that way. No keeper claimed that dragon. No one is bonded to her. She¡¯s nearly dead. The other dragons can eat her when she dies and get some nourishment and a few memories. Dumb as that copper dragon is, chances are she doesn¡¯t have many memories at all. But, if we can persuade the dragons to let us have her carcass, or even part of it, Jess could turn it into some solid wealth that would benefit all of us.¡±

 Page 15

    ¡°But that¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait. Let me speak.¡± He set a finger to her lips to quench her protest. She bridled, turning her head away from his touch, but he only chuckled. Thymara, watching them, could not decide what was more shocking: their nakedness or the topic of their conversation. They could only have been doing one thing. One forbidden thing. But Jerd seemed irritated, almost angry with him, and yet she so casually stayed next to him. Greft caught Jerd¡¯s jaw in his fingers, turned her face back to him. She bared her teeth at him and he laughed outright.


    ¡°You are such a child sometimes.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t treat me like a child a little while ago!¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± His hand moved down the side of her neck and he slipped it under her body. He was touching her breast. Jerd¡¯s bared teeth changed to a very peculiar smile and she stretched, moving herself against Greft¡¯s hand. Shock and a strange thrill ran through Thymara. Her breath caught in her throat. Was that what it was like? She had thought of sex as something that belonged only to adults, and only to those fortunate enough to have normal bodies. Now as she watched Jerd rub herself against Greft¡¯s touch, a peculiar envy awoke in her. Jerd had obviously just taken this for herself. Or perhaps Greft had begun it, tricking her or forcing her? No. The look she was giving him now was all too knowing. An unsettling warmth was infusing Thymara¡¯s own body. She couldn¡¯t look away.


    Greft seemed to have forgotten entirely that he had been speaking. Jerd suddenly wiggled aside from his touch and demanded, ¡°You were saying? You were trying to justify selling dragon parts to the filthy Chalcedeans, I believe.¡±


    He made a small noise in his throat, and then pulled his hand back to his side. His voice was husky when he spoke. ¡°I was trying to explain that we will need money if my dream for us is to come true. I don¡¯t really care where it comes from. I know where it won¡¯t come from. Neither the Bingtown Traders nor the Rain Wild Traders will want to help us establish a town of our own. Both groups see us as abominations. They were glad to see us leave Trehaug and even gladder that we took the dragons with us. They don¡¯t expect us to return;they don¡¯t expect us to survive.


    ¡°And if we do find Kelsingra do you think they¡¯ll respect it as ours? No, Jerd. If we find Kelsingra and there are any Elderling artifacts left there, you can bet the Traders will claim them for themselves. I¡¯ve seen Captain Leftrin at work, charting the path we¡¯ve taken. There¡¯s only one reason for him to do that. It¡¯s so that if we find something valuable, he can return to Trehaug and tell the Traders. And they¡¯ll know how to come back and find us and take it away from us. And we¡¯ll be on the outside again, the leftovers, the rejects. Even if all we find is a piece of land large enough for dragons to survive on, we won¡¯t be safe. How long have the Traders been looking for arable land? Even that they would take from us. So we have to think ahead. We all know that Cassarick and Trehaug depend on outside trade for survival. They dig up Elderling treasure and sell it through the Bingtown Traders. They can¡¯t feed themselves. Without Elderling stuff to sell, it would all have fallen apart years ago. But what will we have? Nothing. Maybe, if we find solid ground, we can build something for ourselves and our children. But even if all we plan to do is grow crops, we¡¯ll still need seed and tools. We¡¯ll need to build homes for ourselves. And we¡¯ll need money, solid coin, to buy what we need.¡±


    Thymara¡¯s head was whirling. Was Greft speaking of a town for the keepers and their dragons? A future for them, a future separate from Trehaug or Cassarick? A future with children? With husbands, wives? It was unthinkable, unimaginable. Without consciously making the decision, she stretched out flat on the tree limb and wormed her way closer.


    ¡°It won¡¯t work,¡± Jerd responded scornfully. ¡°Any town site you find will be too far up the river. And who would trade with us?¡±


    ¡°Jerd, you are such a child sometimes! Now wait, don¡¯t glare at me. It¡¯s not your fault. You¡¯ve never known anything but the Rain Wilds. I myself have only ventured out once or twice, but at least I¡¯ve read of what the outside world is like. And the hunter is an educated man. He has ideas, Jerd, and he sees things so clearly. When he talks, everything just makes so much sense. I always knew that there had to be a way to have a different life, but I just couldn¡¯t see it. Jess says it was because for so long I¡¯d been told what the rules were that I couldn¡¯t see they were just rules made by men. And if men can make rules, then other men can change them. We can change them. We don¡¯t have to be bound by the ¡®way things have always been.¡¯ We can break out of it, if we just have the courage.

 Page 16

    ¡°Look how we are with the dragons. They remember how the world was, back when they dominated, and they think that¡¯s how it¡¯s going to be again. But we don¡¯t have to give them that power. None of the dragons needs to have that dragon¡¯s body when it dies. It¡¯s just meat to them, and we¡¯ve given them plenty of meat. So, in a sense, they owe it to us, especially when you think what it could mean to us. With the kind of wealth we could get for the dragon¡¯s corpse, we could make a foundation for a better life for all of us, including the other dragons! If we have the courage to change the rules and do what is best for us for a change.¡± Thymara could almost see Greft¡¯s imagination soaring on what could be. The grim smile on his face promised triumph over old humiliations and wrongs. ¡°Jess says that if you have money, anyone will trade with you. And if, from time to time, we have rare merchandise, unique merchandise that no one else anywhere can get, then there will always be people willing to come to you, no matter the difficulties. They¡¯ll come, and they¡¯ll meet your price.¡±


    Jerd had rolled slightly to face him. In the dimness, the touches of silver in her eyes gleamed more sharply. She looked uneasy. ¡°Wait. Are you talking about selling dragon body parts again? Not just now, maybe, if the copper dies, but in the future? That¡¯s just wrong, Greft. What if I were talking about selling your blood or bone? What if the dragons were thinking of raising your children for meat?¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t be like that! It doesn¡¯t have to be like that. You¡¯re thinking of this in the worst possible way.¡± His hand came back, gentle, soothing. He traced her arm from shoulder to elbow and back again. Then his touch slipped to her neck, and his hand wandered slowly down her rib cage. Thymara saw Jerd¡¯s breasts move with her indrawn breath. ¡°The dragons will come to understand. A few scales, a bit of blood, the tip of a claw. Nothing that harms them. Sometimes but not often, something more than that, a tooth perhaps or an eye, taken from a dragon who will die anyway¡­Never often, or what is rare becomes commonplace. That would do no one any good.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± She spoke flatly and pulled away from his exploring hand. ¡°And I don¡¯t think any of the dragons will like it. How about Kalo? Have you shared your plan with your own dragon? How did he take it?¡±


    He shrugged, and then admitted, ¡°He didn¡¯t like it. Said he would kill me before he allowed that to happen. But he threatens to kill me several times a day. It¡¯s just what he says when things don¡¯t go his way. He knows he has the best keeper. So he threatens me, but he puts up with me. In time, I think even he would see the wisdom of the idea.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I think he¡¯d kill you.¡± Her voice was flat. She meant it. She stretched as she spoke and then glancing down at her own breasts, brushed at her left nipple as if dislodging something. Greft¡¯s eyes followed her hand, and his voice went deeper.


    ¡°Maybe it won¡¯t ever come to that,¡± he conceded. ¡°Maybe we will find Kelsingra and maybe it will be rich with Elderling artifacts. If we do find our fortune there, then we must be sure that all recognize it is ours. Trehaug will try to claim it;be sure of that. Bingtown will want to be the sole marketplace for it. We¡¯ll hear it all again from them. ¡®This is the way it has always been.¡¯ But you and I, we know it doesn¡¯t always have to be that way. We must be very ready to defend our future from grasping hands.¡±


    Jerd pushed blond hair back from her face. ¡°Greft, you spin such wonderful webs of dreams. You speak as if we were hundreds of people in search of a haven, instead of just over a dozen. ¡®Defend our future¡¯ you say. What future? There are too few of us. The best we can think of would be finding a better life just for ourselves. I like how you think, most of the time, with your talk of new rules for a new life. But sometimes you sound like a little child playing with wooden toys and claiming them as your kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Is that wrong? That I¡¯d like to be a king?¡± He cocked his head at her and smiled his tight-lipped smile. ¡°A king might need a queen.¡±


    She sounded scornful of him as she told him sternly, ¡°You will never be a king.¡± But her deprecation of him was a lie, her hands said. Thymara watched in amazement as Jerd caught Greft¡¯s shoulders in both her hands, twisted onto her back, and then drew him down on top of her. ¡°Enough talk,¡± she announced. One of her hands moved to the back of Greft¡¯s neck. She pulled his face down to hers.


    Thymara watched.


    She didn¡¯t mean to. There was no moment when she decided to stay. Instead, her claws dug deep into bark and held her there. Her brow furrowed and she stared, heedless of the biting insects that found her and hummed around her.

 Page 17

    She had seen animals mate, a male bird mounting a female. With a flutter and a shudder, it was soon done and sometimes the female scarcely seemed to notice it. Her parents had never spoken to her of mating, for it was forbidden to her and to those like her. Any curiosity about it had been firmly discouraged. Even her beloved father had warned her, ¡°You may encounter men who will try to take advantage of you, well knowing that what they seek is forbidden. Trust no man who tries to do more than touch your hand in greeting. Leave his company at once, and tell me of it.¡±


    And she had believed him. He was her father, with her best interests at heart. No one would make a marriage offer for her. Everyone knew that if those the Rain Wilds touched heavily had children, the children were born either completely monstrous or not viable at all. It made no sense for such as her to mate. The food she would eat during a pregnancy while she was unable to hunt or gather, the difficulty her body would endure in bringing forth a child that would most likely die¡­no. Resources in the Rain Wilds were always scarce;life was always difficult. No one had a right to consume and not produce. It was not the Trader way.


    Except that her father had broken that rule. He¡¯d taken a chance on her, taken a chance that she would pull her own weight. And she had. So perhaps the rules were not always right¡­Was Greft right? Could it be that any rules that men made, other men could change? Were the rules not so absolute as she has always believed them?


    The couple below her didn¡¯t seem to be thinking of the rules at all. It also seemed to be taking them substantially longer than when birds mated. They made sounds, small sounds of approval that sent shivers up Thymara¡¯s back. When Jerd arched her back and Greft put lingering kisses on her breasts, Thymara¡¯s whole body reacted in a way that embarrassed and astonished her. Light flowed in glittering waves on the scaled bodies that moved in rhythm. Greft pounded his body against Jerd¡¯s in a way that looked punishing, but the woman below him only writhed and then suddenly gripped his buttocks and pulled him tight and still against her. She gave a muffled moan.


    An instant later, Greft collapsed upon her. For a long time, they sprawled there. Greft¡¯s heaving breath gradually calmed. He raised his head and lifted himself slightly from her body. A moment later, Jerd reached a lazy hand to push her sweaty strands of hair from her eyes. A slow smile spread across her face as she looked up at him. Then her eyes widened, and suddenly her gaze shot past Greft and met Thymara¡¯s stare. She gave a shriek and snatched uselessly at her discarded clothes.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Greft demanded, rolling off her and turning his gaze skyward. But by then, Thymara was two trees away and moving fast. She leaped from branch to branch, scurrying like a lizard. Behind her, she heard Jerd¡¯s voice raised in an angry complaint, and then Greft¡¯s laughter scalded her. ¡°Probably the most she¡¯ll ever dare to do is watch,¡± he said in a carrying voice, and she knew that he meant her to hear the words. Tears stung her eyes, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she fled.


    SEDRIC STOOD ALONE on the deck of the Tarman. He gazed toward the shore. There was no sign that anyone intended to travel today. Instead, Leftrin was hurrying about with a steaming bucket, doing some sort of doctoring on the dragons. It made Sedric anxious to see that the major gathering of people and dragons was now clustered around the prone copper dragon. It wasn¡¯t his fault. The animal had been sick when he first visited it. Uneasily he wondered if he had left any sign of his passage there. He hadn¡¯t meant to hurt it, only to take what he so desperately needed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said quietly, not sure to whom he apologized. Leftrin joined the keepers clustered around the prone dragon. He could not see what they were doing now. Was it dead? Keepers and other dragons formed a wall. What were they doing down there?


    Sedric gave a sudden low cry and curled forward over his belly. Terrible tearing cramps uncoiled inside him. He sank to his knees, then fell over on his side. The pain was such that he couldn¡¯t even call for help. It wouldn¡¯t have done him any good anyway. Everyone else had gone ashore to help with the dragons. His bowels were being torn from his body. He clutched at his gut but could not shield himself from the agony. He closed his eyes as the world seemed to swirl around him and abruptly surrendered his consciousness.


    Day the 7th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    Dispatched today, three birds bearing wedding invitations from the family of Trader Delfin. Enclosed, a list of the intended recipients in Bingtown. If any bird fail, please see that a duplicate of the invitation is still delivered to each addressee.

 Page 18

    As the wedding is to be celebrated soon, promptness in delivery is essential.


    Erek,


    Be certain these invitations reach their destinations promptly, or I fear the families will be invited to celebrate the child¡¯s birth before they have time to arrive for the wedding! Customs are not observed in Trehaug as they once were. Some blame it on the Tattooed, but this couple is Rain Wild born and bred!


    Detozi


    CHAPTER TWO


    TRICKY CURRENTS


    Hest stood over Sedric, looking down on him, a sneer distorting his handsome face. He shook his head in disappointment. ¡°You fail because you don¡¯t try hard enough. When it comes right down to it, you always back down from the challenge.¡± In the gloom of the small cabin, Hest seemed larger than life. He was bare chested, and his broad shoulders and the musculature of his well-kept body framed the black triangle of thick curly hair on his chest. His belly was flat and hard over the waistband of his trim trousers. Sedric looked at him with longing. Hest knew it. He laughed, short, low, and ugly, and shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re lazy and soft. You¡¯ve never been able to keep up with me. I really don¡¯t know why I took up with you in the first place. Probably out of pity. There you stood, all mawkish and shy, bottom lip trembling at the thought of what you¡¯d never have. What you didn¡¯t even dare ask for! So, I was tempted to give you a taste of it.¡± He laughed harshly. ¡°What a waste of my time you were. There¡¯s no challenge left in you, Sedric. Nothing left to teach you and there¡¯s never been anything for me to learn from you. You always knew this day would come, didn¡¯t you? And here it is. I¡¯m tired of you. Bored with you and your whimpering. Tired of paying you wages you scarcely earn, tired of you living off me like a leech. You despise Redding, don¡¯t you? But tell me, how are you better than he is? At least he has his own fortune. At least he can pay his own way.¡±


    Sedric moved his mouth, trying to make words come. Trying to tell him that he¡¯d done something significant, that the dragon blood and scales would make a fortune for him, one he¡¯d be happy to share with Hest. Don¡¯t give up on me, he tried to say. Don¡¯t end it now and take up with someone else when I¡¯m not even there to try to change your mind. His lips moved, his throat strained, but not a sound emerged. Only drops of dragon blood dripped from his lips.


    And it was too late. Redding was there; Redding with his plump little whore¡¯s mouth and his stubby-fingered hands and greasy gold ringlets. Redding was there, standing beside Hest, running the back of one finger lightly up and down Hest¡¯s bared arm. Hest turned to him, smiling. His eyelids drooped suddenly in a way that Sedric knew well, and then like a stooping hawk he swooped in to kiss Redding. He could no longer see Hest¡¯s face, but he saw Redding¡¯s hands starfish on Hest¡¯s muscular back, pulling him closer.


    Sedric tried to shout, strained until his throat hurt, but no sound came out.


    They hurt you? Shall I kill them?


    ¡°No!¡± The sound suddenly burst from him in a shout. He jerked awake to find himself sprawled on his sweaty bedding in his small, smelly cabin. Around him, all was murkiness. No Hest, no Redding. Only himself. And a small copper dragon who pushed insistently at the walls of his thoughts. Dimly he felt her inquiry, her dull-witted concern for him. He pushed the contact away, shut his eyes tightly, and buried his face in the bundle that served him as a pillow. Just a bad dream, he told himself. Only a nightmare.


    But it was one that was all too possibly real.


    When he was morose, he thought that perhaps Hest had wanted to be rid of him for some time. Perhaps his defending of Alise had given Hest the excuse he was looking for to send Sedric away.


    He could, by an effort of will, recall how it had been when they first began. Hest¡¯s calmness and strength had drawn him. In moments alone, in Hest¡¯s strong embrace, he felt like he had finally found safe harbor. Knowing that shelter existed for him had made him stronger and bolder. Even his father had seen the change in him and told him that he took pride in the man his son was becoming.


    If he¡¯d only known!


    When had Hest¡¯s strength stopped being a shelter and become a prison wall? When had it become, not the comfort of protection, but the threat of that strength turned against him? How could he have continued unaware of how things had changed, of how Hest was changing him? He hadn¡¯t, he admitted now. He¡¯d known. But he¡¯d stumbled on blindly, excusing Hest¡¯s cruelty and slights, blaming the discord on himself, pretending that somehow, things would go back to the way they had once been.


    Had it ever really been that good? Or was it all a dream he had manufactured for himself?

 Page 19

    He rolled over, pushing his face into the pillow and closing his eyes. He would not think about Hest or how things had once been between them. He would not dwell on what their relationship had become. Right now, he did not even have the heart to try to imagine something better for them. There had to be a better dream somewhere. He wished he could imagine what it was.


    ¡°ARE YOU AWAKE?¡±


    He hadn¡¯t been but now he was. A slice of light was falling into Sedric¡¯s room from the open door. The silhouette standing in it had to be Alise. Of course. He sighed.


    As if that were an invitation, she ventured into the room. She didn¡¯t close the door behind her. The rectangle of light fell mostly on the floor, illuminating dropped clothing. ¡°It¡¯s so dark in here,¡± she said apologetically. ¡°And close.¡±


    She meant smelly. He¡¯d scarcely stirred out of the room for three days, and when he did, he spoke to no one and returned to his bed as soon as he could. Davvie, the hunter¡¯s apprentice, had been bringing him meals and then taking them away again. At first, he¡¯d been in too much pain to be hungry. And now he was too despondent to eat.


    ¡°Davvie said he thought you were feeling better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Couldn¡¯t she just go away? He didn¡¯t want to talk to her, didn¡¯t want to confide his problems to anyone. Davvie was bad enough, with his pestering, prying questions and his voluntary biography of his own unremarkable life. At fifteen years old, how could the boy imagine he had done anything that could possibly interest anyone other than himself? All of the boy¡¯s meandering stories seemed to be leading up to some point that Sedric couldn¡¯t grasp and the boy couldn¡¯t seem to make. He suspected that Carson was using the boy to spy on him. He¡¯d woken twice to find the hunter sitting quietly beside his bed. And once, he¡¯d struggled out of a nightmare and opened his eyes to that other hunter, Jess, crouched on the floor nearby. Why all three of them were so fascinated with him, he didn¡¯t know. Not unless they had guessed his secret.


    At least he could order the boy out of his room and he obeyed. He doubted that tactic would work on Alise, but abruptly decided to try it. ¡°Just go away, Alise. When I feel well enough to deal with people, I¡¯ll come out.¡±


    Instead, Alise came into the room and sat down on his shoe trunk. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea for you to be alone so much, especially when we still don¡¯t know what made you so ill.¡± Her fingers tangled in her lap like writhing serpents. He looked away from them.


    ¡°Carson said it was something I ate. Or drank.¡±


    ¡°That makes sense, except that we¡¯ve all had the same food and drink that you¡¯ve had, and no one else was affected.¡±


    There was one drink she hadn¡¯t shared. He pushed the thought aside. Don¡¯t think about anything that could incriminate you, or bring those alien thoughts back into your mind.


    He hadn¡¯t answered her. She was looking down at her hands. She spoke as if the words were teeth she were spitting out. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I dragged you along on this, Sedric. I¡¯m sorry I ran off to help the dragons that day and wouldn¡¯t listen to what you had to say. You¡¯re a friend; you¡¯ve been my friend for a very long time. Now you¡¯re ill and we¡¯re so far from any real healers.¡± She halted for a moment, and he could tell she was trying to hold back tears. Strange, how little he cared about that. Perhaps if she knew the real danger he faced and was moved by it, he would feel more sympathy for how she struggled with her guilt.


    ¡°I¡¯ve talked to Leftrin and he says it¡¯s not too late. He said that even though we¡¯ve traveled farther upriver, he thinks Carson could still take one of the smaller boats and get us safely back to Cassarick before autumn closes in. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, and we¡¯d be camping out along the way. But I¡¯ve persuaded him.¡± She paused, choking on emotion, and then went on in a voice so tight that her words almost squeaked. ¡°If you want me to take you back, I¡¯ll do it. We¡¯ll leave today if you say so.¡±


    If he said so.


    It was too late now. Too late even on that morning when he¡¯d demanded she go back with him, though he hadn¡¯t known it then. ¡°Too late.¡± He hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d whispered the words until he saw her reaction.


    ¡°Sa¡¯s mercy, Sedric. Are you that ill?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He spoke quickly to stop her words. He truly had no idea how ill he was, or if ¡°ill¡± was a way to describe it. ¡°No, nothing like that, Alise. I only mean it¡¯s too late for us to attempt to make our way back to Cassarick in one of the small boats. Davvie has warned me, numerous times, that the autumn rains will soon be falling, and that when they start to come down, our journey upstream is going to be more difficult. Perhaps then Captain Leftrin will recognize how foolish our mission is and turn back with the barge. In any case, I don¡¯t wish to be in a small boat on a torrential river with rain pouring down all around us. Not my idea of camping weather.¡±

 Page 20

    He¡¯d almost managed to find his normal tone and voice. Maybe if he seemed normal, she¡¯d go away. ¡°I¡¯m very tired, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± he said abruptly.


    Alise stood up, looking remarkably unattractive in trousers that only emphasized the female swell of her hips. The shirt she wore was beginning to show signs of hard use. He could tell she had washed it, but the water she had used had left it gray rather than snowy white. The sun was taking a toll on her, bleaching her red hair to a carroty orange that frayed out around her pins, and making her freckles darker. She¡¯d never been a beauty by Bingtown standards. Much more of the sun and water, and he wondered if Hest would take her back at all. It was one thing to have a mousy wife, and another to have one who was simply a fright. He wondered if she ever thought of the possibility that when she returned, Hest might not take her back. Probably not. She had been raised to believe that life was meant to be a certain way, and even when all evidence was to the contrary, she couldn¡¯t see it differently. She¡¯d never suspected that he and Hest were more than excellent friends. To Alise, he was still her childhood friend, erstwhile secretary to her husband and temporarily serving as her assistant. She so firmly believed that the world was determined by her rules that she could not see what was right in front of her.


    And so she smiled gently at him. ¡°Get some rest, dear friend,¡± she said, closing the door quietly behind her, shutting him into his oversized packing crate and leaving him in the dark with his thoughts.


    He rolled to face the wall. The back of his neck itched. He scratched it furiously, feeling dry skin under his nails. She wasn¡¯t the only one whose appearance was being ruined. His skin was dry, his hair as coarse as a horse¡¯s tail now.


    He wished he could blame everything on Alise. He couldn¡¯t. Once Hest had banned him, dooming him to be her companion, Sedric had done all he could to seize any opportunity the trip might present. He was the one who had schemed to take advantage of every opportunity to take a scrap of dragon flesh, a scale, a drop of blood. He¡¯d planned so carefully how he would preserve his collection; Begasti Cored would be waiting to hear from him, anticipating that his own fortune would be founded on being the man to facilitate supplying such forbidden merchandise to the Duke of Chalced.


    In some of his daydreams, Sedric returned to Bingtown to show Hest his loot, and Hest helped him to get the best prices for his wares. In those dreams, they sold the goods and never returned to Bingtown, establishing themselves as wealthy men in Chalced, or Jamaillia, or the Pirate Isles, perhaps even beyond, in the near-mythical Spice Islands. In others, he kept his newly gained wealth a secret until he had established a luxurious hide-away in a distant place. In those dreams, he and Hest took ship by night in secret and sailed off to a new life together, free of lies and deceptions.


    And, of late, he¡¯d had other daydreams. They had been bitter but sharp-edged with sweetness, too. He¡¯d imagined returning to Bingtown to discover that Hest had replaced him with that damn Redding. In those dreams he took his wealth and established himself in Chalced, only to reveal to Hest later all that he might have had, if only he¡¯d valued Sedric more, if only he¡¯d been true of heart.


    Now all of those dreams seemed silly and shallow, the stuff of adolescent fancy. He pulled the itchy wool blanket up over his shoulders and closed his eyes more tightly. ¡°I may never go back to Bingtown,¡± he said aloud. He tried to force himself to confront that. ¡°Even if I do, I may never be completely sane again.¡±


    For a moment, he let go his grip on himself as Sedric. Instantly, she was hip deep in chill river water, wading against the cold current. On her belly, he felt the tar plugs that Leftrin had smeared over her injuries. He felt her dim groping toward him, a plea for companionship and comfort. He didn¡¯t want to give it. But he had never been a hard-hearted man. When she invaded his mind, pleading, he had to reach back. You are stronger than you know, he told her. Keep moving. Follow the other ones, my copper beauty. Soon there will be better days for you, but for now you must be strong.


    A flow of warm gratitude engulfed him. It would have been so easy to drown in it. Instead, he let it ebb past him and encouraged her to focus what little mind she had on keeping up the grueling pace. In the small corner of his mind that still belonged solely to himself, he wondered, Was there any way to be free of this unwanted sharing? If the copper dragon died, would he feel her pain? Or only the sweet release of freedom?


    ALISE WENT BACK to the galley table. She sat down opposite Leftrin and his perpetual mug of black coffee. All around them, the work of moving the barge went on, like the busy comings and goings of an insect hive. The tillerman was at his tiller, the pole crew moved up and down the decks in their steady rhythm. From the deckhouse window, she watched the endless circuit of Hennesey and Bellin on the starboard side of the barge. Grigsby, the orange ship¡¯s cat, perched on the railing and watched the water. Carson had risen before dawn and set off up the river to do his day¡¯s hunting for the dragons. Davvie had stayed aboard. The boy had developed a peculiar fixation on Sedric and his well-being. He could not tolerate anyone else preparing the sick man¡¯s meals or waiting on him. Alise found it both endearing and annoying that a lad from such a rough background would be so fascinated by an elegant young Trader. Leftrin had twice muttered against it, but she could not grasp the nature of his complaint, and so had ignored it.

 Page 21

    Usually by this hour, she and Leftrin would be left in relative peace and isolation. Today, the hunter Jess had lingered, a near-silent yet very annoying presence on the barge. No matter where she went, he was nearby. Yesterday, twice she had looked up to find him staring at her. He¡¯d met her gaze and nodded meaningfully, as if there were something they agreed upon. For the life of her, she couldn¡¯t work out what he was about. She¡¯d have discussed it with Leftrin, except that Jess always seemed to be lurking just within earshot.


    The hunter made her uncomfortable. She¡¯d become accustomed to how the Rain Wilds had marked Leftrin. She accepted it as a part of him now and scarcely noticed it except for the moments when a flash of sunlight would strike a gleam from the scaling in his brows. Then it seemed exotic, not repulsive. But Jess was marked in less flattering ways. He reminded her, not of a dragon or even a lizard, but of a snake. His nose was flattening into his face, his nostrils becoming slitlike in the process. His eyes seemed set too far apart, as if they were seeking to be on the sides of his head instead of the front. She¡¯d always taken pride that she didn¡¯t judge folk by their appearances. But she could not look at Jess and feel comfortable, let alone have a real conversation with him.


    So in the man¡¯s presence, she kept her discussion to generalities and expected topics. She said brightly, ¡°Well, Sedric seems a bit better today. I did ask him if he¡¯d like to return to Cassarick in one of the small boats, but he said he didn¡¯t. I think he feels the trip would be too dangerous, with the autumn rains coming on.¡±


    Leftrin lifted his eyes to hers. ¡°So you¡¯ll both be continuing with the expedition, no matter how long it takes?¡± She heard a hundred questions in his voice and tried to answer them all.


    ¡°I think we will. I know I want to see this through to the end.¡±


    Jess laughed. He was leaning against the frame of the galley door, apparently looking out over the river. He didn¡¯t turn to either of them and made no other comment. Her glance sought Leftrin¡¯s again. He met her gaze, but gave no sign of a reaction to the man¡¯s odd behavior. Perhaps she was overreacting. She changed the subject.


    ¡°You know, until I came for this visit, I never truly understood what the Rain Wilders faced in trying to build settlements here. I suppose I always imagined that in all this vast valley, somewhere they would have found some truly dry ground. But there isn¡¯t, is there?¡±


    ¡°Bog and slough and marsh,¡± Leftrin confirmed for her. ¡°No other place in the world like it, as far as I know. There are a few charts from the old days when settlers first came here. They tried to explore. Some show a big lake upriver of us, one that is said to spread as far as the eye can see. Others charted over a hundred tributaries that feed the Rain Wild River, some big, some small. They all wander back and forth in their beds. Some years two become one, and a year later, there are three streams where one tributary used to dump into the river. Two years after that, it¡¯s just all marsh, no defined streams or river at all.


    ¡°The forest ground sometimes looks solid, and sometimes folk have found a patch they think is dry and tried to settle on it. But the more traffic there is, the sooner the ¡®dry ground¡¯ starts to give way. Pretty soon the groundwater breaks through to the surface and from there, well, it goes marshy pretty fast.¡±


    ¡°But you do think that somewhere upriver there will be an area of truly dry land for the dragons to settle on?¡±


    ¡°Your guess is as good as mine. But I think there must be. Water flows downhill, and all this water comes from somewhere. Trouble is, can we navigate that far, or does it all turn into marsh before we get there? I think we¡¯re about as far upriver as anyone has ever come by ship. Tarman can go where others can¡¯t. But if we hit a place that¡¯s too shallow for Tarman, well, that¡¯s where our journey will end.¡±


    ¡°Well, I hope we at least find a better beach to camp on tonight. Thymara has said that she is worried about the dragons¡¯ feet and claws. The constant immersion is bad for them. She said that one of Sintara¡¯s claws cracked and she had to trim and bind it for her. She said she treated it with tar. Perhaps we should do all the dragons¡¯ claws, to prevent damage.¡±


    Leftrin scowled at the idea. ¡°I don¡¯t have that much tar to spare. I think we¡¯ll just have to hope for a drier camping spot tonight.¡±


    ¡°We should trim their claws,¡± Jess abruptly announced, pushing his way into both the room and the conversation. He shoved the end bench out from the table and sat down heavily on it. ¡°Think about it, Cap. We dull the dragons¡¯ claws down for them. Cut them a bit, tar them up. Do everybody a world of good, you take my drift.¡± He looked from Leftrin to Alise and back again, grinning at both of them. He had small teeth, set wide in a generous mouth. It looked like a baby¡¯s innocent smile set in a man¡¯s face; it was disconcerting, even unsettling to her. So was Leftrin¡¯s reaction to it.

 Page 22

    ¡°No.¡± He spoke the word flatly. ¡°No, Jess. And that¡¯s my last word. Don¡¯t push it. Not here, not now. Not with the keepers, either.¡± He narrowed his eyes meaningfully.


    Jess leaned back, bracing his back against the wall and swinging his boots up onto the bench in front of him. ¡°Superstitious?¡± he asked Leftrin with a knowing grin. ¡°I¡¯d have pegged you for a man of the world, Cap. Not someone trapped in all those old Rain Wild notions. It¡¯s awfully provincial of you. Those keepers, some of them recognize that sometimes we need to make new rules to make the best of a situation.¡±


    Leftrin slowly stood, leaned both his fists on the table, knuckles down and shoulders tensed as he put his face close to the hunter¡¯s. He spoke in a low voice. ¡°You¡¯re an ass, Jess. An ass and a fool. You don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re suggesting. Why don¡¯t you go do what you were paid to do?¡±


    The way Leftrin¡¯s body blocked Jess¡¯s access to her suggested he was protecting her. She wasn¡¯t sure from what but felt profoundly grateful he was there. Alise had never seen the captain so clearly enraged and yet so controlled. It frightened her, and at the same time it spurred a powerful surge of attraction toward him. This, she suddenly knew, was the sort of man she wanted in her life.


    Yet despite Leftrin¡¯s intensity, Jess seemed unfazed. ¡°Go do what I was ¡®paid¡¯ to do? Isn¡¯t that exactly what we¡¯re talking about here, Captain? Getting paid. And sooner rather than later. Perhaps we should all sit down and have a chat about the best way to make that happen.¡± He leaned around Leftrin to shoot Alise a knowing grin. She was appalled. What was he talking about?


    ¡°There is nothing to discuss!¡± Leftrin¡¯s voice rattled the windows.


    Jess¡¯s gaze went back to Leftrin. His voice lowered suddenly, taking the note of a warning snarl. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be cheated out of this, Leftrin. If she wants a share, she¡¯ll have to go through me. I¡¯m not going to stand by and watch you take a new partner and cut me out for the sake of making a sweet little deal for yourself.¡±


    ¡°Get out.¡± From a roar, Leftrin¡¯s voice had dropped to a near whisper. ¡°Get out now, Jess. Go hunting.¡±


    Perhaps he knew he¡¯d pushed Leftrin to his limit. The captain hadn¡¯t verbalized a threat, but killing hung in the air. Every beat of her thundering heart seemed to shake Alise. She couldn¡¯t draw a breath. She was terrified of what might happen next.


    Jess swung his feet to the floor so that his boots landed on the deck with a thump. He stood, taking his time, like a cat that stretches before it turns its back on a slavering dog. ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± he offered lightly. ¡°Until another time,¡± he said as he walked out the door. Around the corner but still within hearing, he added, ¡°We all know there will be another time.¡±


    Leftrin leaned across the table to reach the door¡¯s edge. He slammed it so hard that every cup on the table jumped. ¡°That bastard,¡± he snarled. ¡°That traitorous bastard.¡±


    Alise found she was hugging herself and trembling. Her voice shook as she said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. What was he talking about? What does he want to discuss with me?¡±


    LEFTRIN WAS AS angry as he¡¯d ever been in his life, and by his fury, he knew that the damn hunter had woken fear in him as well. It wasn¡¯t just that the man was misjudging Alise in such a base way. It was that his assumptions threatened to ruin Leftrin¡¯s good image in her eyes.


    The questions he didn¡¯t dare answer hung in the air between them, razor-edged knives that would cut them both to pieces. He took the only safe course. He lied to her. ¡°It¡¯s all right, Alise. Everything will be fine.¡±


    Then, before she could ask what was all right and what would be fine, he silenced her in the only way he could, drawing her to her feet and folding her into his arms. He held her firm against him, his head bent over hers. Everything about it was wrong; he could see her small fine hands against the rough, grimy weave of his shirt. Her hair smelled like perfume, and it was so fine and soft it tangled against his unshaven chin. He could feel how small she was, how delicate. Her blouse was soft under his hands, and the warmth of her skin seeped right through it. She was the opposite of him in every way, and he had no right to touch her, none at all. Even if she hadn¡¯t been a married lady, even if she hadn¡¯t been educated and refined, it still would have been wrong for two such different people to come together.


    And yet she did not struggle or shriek for help. Her hands didn¡¯t pound against his chest; instead they gripped the rough fabric of his shirt and pulled him tighter, fitting herself against him, and again, they were opposite of each other in every way, and each way was wonderful. For a long moment he just held her in silence, and in that brief instant he forgot Jess¡¯s treachery, and his vulnerability and the danger awaiting all of them. No matter how complicated the rest of it was, this was simple and perfect. He wished he could stay in this moment, not moving on, not even thinking of all the complications that threatened him.

 Page 23

    ¡°Leftrin.¡± She spoke his name against his chest.


    In another time and another place, it would have been permission. In this time and place, it broke the spell. That simple moment, their brief embrace, was over. It was as much as he would ever taste of that other life. He tipped his head just slightly and let his mouth brush her hair. Then, with a heavy sigh, he set her back from him. ¡°Sorry,¡± he muttered, even though he was not. ¡°Sorry, Alise. I don¡¯t know what came over me. Guess I should not let Jess rile me up like that.¡±


    She gripped his shirt still, two small tight handfuls of fabric. Her brow pressed against his chest. He knew she didn¡¯t want him to step away from her. She didn¡¯t want him to stop what had begun. It was like peeling a clingy kitten from himself to ease free of her grip, and all the harder because he didn¡¯t want to do so. He had never imagined that he would be the one to gently push a woman away ¡°for her own good.¡± But he¡¯d never imagined that he would find himself in such a precarious position. Until he could deal with Jess in a way that solved his problem permanently, he couldn¡¯t allow Alise to do anything that might make her more of a weapon to be used against him.


    ¡°Feels like the current is getting tricky. I need a word with Swarge,¡± he lied. It would take him out of the galley and away from her so she couldn¡¯t ask the questions that Jess had stirred up. And it would give him a chance to make sure that Jess had actually left the barge and gone hunting.


    As he set her gently away from him, she looked up at him with utter bewilderment. ¡°Leftrin, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t be gone long,¡± he promised and turned away from her.


    ¡°But¡ª¡± he heard her say, and then he closed the door gently on her words and hurried aft. Out of sight of the galley windows, he halted and walked to the railing. He didn¡¯t need to talk to Swarge or anyone else. He didn¡¯t want any of his crew to know what a situation he¡¯d put them all in. Damn Jess and his sly threats, and damn that Chalcedean merchant and damn the wood carvers who couldn¡¯t keep their mouths shut. And damn himself for getting them all into this mess. When he had first found the wizardwood, he had known it could bring him trouble. Why hadn¡¯t he left it alone? Or spoken of it to the dragons and the Council and let them worry about it? He knew it was now forbidden for anyone to take it and make use of it. But he had. Because he loved his ship.


    He felt a thrum of anxiety through Tarman¡¯s railing. He gripped the wood soothingly and spoke aloud but softly to the liveship. ¡°No. I regret nothing. It was no less than you deserved. I took what you needed, and I don¡¯t really care if anyone else can understand or excuse that. I just wish it hadn¡¯t brought trouble down on us. That¡¯s all. But I¡¯ll find a way to solve it. You can count on that.¡±


    As if to confirm both gratitude and loyalty, he felt the ship pick up speed. Back on the tiller, he heard Swarge chortle and mutter, ¡°Well, what¡¯s the hurry now?¡± as the polemen picked up their pace to match the ship¡¯s. Leftrin took his hands from the railing and leaned back against the deckhouse, hands in pockets, to give his crew room to work. He said nothing to any of them, and they knew better than to speak to the captain when he stood thus, deep in thought. He had a problem. He¡¯d settle it without help from any of them. That was what captains did.


    Leftrin dug his pipe out of one pocket and his tobacco out of the other, and then stuffed them both back as he realized he couldn¡¯t go back into the galley to light it. He sighed. He was a Trader in the tradition of the Rain Wild Traders. Profit was all-important. But so was loyalty. And humanity. The Chalcedeans had approached him with a scheme that could make him a wealthy man. As long as he was willing to betray the Rain Wilds and butcher a sentient creature as if it were an animal, he could have a fortune. They¡¯d made their offer in the guise of a threat; such a typically Chalcedean way to invite a man to do business. First there had been the ¡°grain merchant,¡± bullying his way aboard the Tarman at the mouth of the Rain Wild River. Sinad Arich had spoken as plainly as a Chalcedean could. The Duke of Chalced was holding his family hostage; the merchant would do whatever he had to do to obtain dragon parts for the ailing old man.


    Leftrin had thought he¡¯d seen the last of the man when he set him ashore in Trehaug, thought that the threat to himself and his ship was over. But it wasn¡¯t. Once a Chalcedean had a hold on you, he never let go. Back in Cassarick, right before they left, someone had come on board and left a tiny scroll outside his door. The clandestine note told him to expect a collaborator on board his ship. If he complied with their agent, they¡¯d pay him well. If he didn¡¯t, they¡¯d betray what he had done with the wizardwood. That would ruin him, as a man, as a ship owner, as a Trader. He was not sure if it would lower him in Alise¡¯s esteem.

 Page 24

    That final doubt was more powerful than the first three certainties. He¡¯d never been tempted to take the bait, though he had wondered if he might surrender to the duress. Now he knew he would not. The moment he¡¯d heard the scandalized whispers of the dragon keepers over what Greft had proposed, he¡¯d known who his traitor was. Not Greft; the youngster might claim to be educated and radical in his thinking, but Leftrin had seen his ilk before. The boy¡¯s political ideas and ¡°new¡± thoughts were skin-shallow. The keeper had only fallen in with an older man¡¯s persuasive cant. And not Carson, he thought with relief. And there was that to be grateful for. It wasn¡¯t an old friend he¡¯d have to confront over this.


    It was Jess. The hunter had come aboard at Cassarick, ostensibly hired by the Cassarick Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council to help provide for the dragons on their journey. Either the Council had no knowledge of Jess¡¯s other employer or the corruption ran deeper than he wanted to think about. He couldn¡¯t worry about that now. The hunter was his focus. Jess was the one who had seemed to be befriending Greft, talking with him at the campfire each night, offering to teach him to be better with his hunter¡¯s tools. Leftrin had seen him building up the young man¡¯s opinion of himself, involving him in sophisticated philosophical conversations and persuading him that Greft understood what his fellow keepers were too rural and naive to grasp. He was the one who had convinced the boy that leadership meant stepping forward to do the unthinkable for the ¡°greater good¡± of those too tenderhearted to see the necessity. Jess had been reinforcing Greft¡¯s belief that he was the leader of the dragon keepers. Not so likely, my friend, he thought. Leftrin had seen the faces of the other keepers when they had spoken of what Greft had proposed. One and all, they¡¯d been shocked. Not even his no-necked sidekicks, Kase and Boxter, had followed him into that quicksand. They¡¯d looked at each other, as bewildered as puppies. So he hadn¡¯t talked it over with them previously.


    Therefore, Leftrin knew the source of that toxic idea. Jess. Jess would have made it sound logical and pragmatic. Jess would have introduced the idea that a real leader would sometimes have to make hard decisions. True leaders sometimes had to do dangerous and distasteful, even immoral, things for the sake of those who followed them.


    Such as carving up a dragon and selling the bits to a foreign power to line your own pockets.


    And the young man had been gullible enough to listen to the wise old hunter and had put the idea out as his own. When it had fallen flat, only Greft had been touched with the ignominy of it. Jess was unscathed in his friendship with some of the other keepers, and much more aware now of how they felt about the idea of butchering dragons for profit. And that was a shame, for privately Leftrin thought that Greft had the potential to captain the group, once he¡¯d had his share of hard knocks on the way up. He supposed that his misstep with the other keepers would be one of them. If the young man had grit, he¡¯d learn from it and keep on going. If not, well, some sailors grew up to be captains and others never even rose to be mate.


    Be that as it would be, Greft¡¯s mishap had lifted the lantern high for Leftrin. He had suspected Jess before, but on that day, he¡¯d known. When Leftrin had first confronted Jess privately and accused him of being the Chalcedean merchant¡¯s man, Jess had not even flinched. He¡¯d admitted it and promptly suggested that now that things were out in the open between them, their task would be much easier. Even now, Leftrin gritted his teeth to think of how the slimy bastard had smiled at him, suggesting that if he slowed the barge down and let the keepers and dragons and the other hunters range far ahead of him, it would be easy for them to pick off the last lagging dragon. ¡°And once we¡¯ve put the poor suffering creature down and butchered it up proper, we can turn right around and head back for the open water. No need to stop by Trehaug or Cassarick, or even to pass by them during daylight hours. We could just head for the coast with our cargo. Once we¡¯re there, I¡¯ve a special signal powder¡ªputs up a bright red smoke from even a tiny fire. Your galley stove would do it. A ship comes right to meet us, and off we go to Chalced and money such as you and your crew can¡¯t even imagine how to spend.¡±


    ¡°Me and my crew aren¡¯t the only ones aboard the Tarman,¡± Leftrin had pointed out coldly to him.


    ¡°That hasn¡¯t escaped my notice. But between the two of us, I think the woman fancies you. Take a forceful hand with her. Tell her you¡¯re swooping her off to Chalced and the life of a princess. She¡¯ll go. And the fancy lad who¡¯s with her, all he wants to do is get back to civilization. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll much care where you take him, as long as it isn¡¯t the Rain Wilds. Or cut him in on the deal, if you want.¡± He¡¯d grinned wider and added, ¡°Or just be rid of him. It makes small difference to me.¡±

 Page 25

    ¡°I¡¯d never abandon the Tarman. My barge isn¡¯t suited to a trip to Chalced.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± The traitor had cocked his head and said, ¡°It seems to me that your barge is better suited to many things than it would appear. If your share of the money from the dragon parts didn¡¯t sate you, I¡¯d wager you¡¯d get near the same amount for the barge, ¡®specially modified¡¯ as it is. In one piece. Or as parts.¡±


    And there it was. The man met his outraged gaze squarely, never losing his nasty little smile. He knew. He knew what Tarman was, and he knew what Leftrin had found, and what he¡¯d done with it. Leftrin, that smile said, was no better than he was. There was no difference between them. Leftrin had already trafficked in dragon parts for his own benefit.


    And if Leftrin did anything to betray Jess for what he was, Jess would return the favor. He felt Tarman quest toward him. He stepped quickly to the railing and put his hand on the silvery wood. ¡°It will be all right,¡± he assured his ship. ¡°Trust me. I¡¯ll think of something. I always do.¡±


    Then he took his hands off the railing and walked back to talk to Swarge, just in case Alise happened to come out on deck.


    Swarge, taciturn as ever, was leaning on his tiller, his eyes fixed on the river, distant and dreaming. He wasn¡¯t a young man anymore, Leftrin suddenly realized. Well, he supposed he wasn¡¯t a young fellow himself anymore. He totted up the years they¡¯d been together, and thought of all they¡¯d been through, good days and bad. Swarge had never questioned Leftrin¡¯s decision when his captain had revealed the trove of wizardwood and outlined his use for it. Swarge could have talked, but he hadn¡¯t. Swarge could have held him up, demanded a chunk of the wood to keep his silence, gone off and sold it and been a wealthy man. But he hadn¡¯t. He¡¯d made only one request, a simple one he should have made long ago. ¡°There¡¯s a woman,¡± he¡¯d said slowly. ¡°A good river woman, can do a good day¡¯s work on a ship. If I stay aboard for this, I know I¡¯m staying aboard forever. She¡¯s the kind of woman who¡¯s easy to live with. Could be part of the crew on this boat forever. You¡¯d like her, Cap. I know you would.¡±


    So Bellin had been part of Swarge¡¯s deal, and no one had ever regretted it. She¡¯d come aboard and hung up her duffel bag and sewn a curtain to give them a bit of privacy. Tarman had liked her, right from the start. Tarman was her home and his life. She and Swarge had lost their shoreside ties long ago, and Swarge was a man content with his life. Now he stood, his broad hands gripping the handle of the tiller, doing what he did all day long. Gripping the wood like that, Leftrin reckoned that Swarge knew Tarman almost as well as he did. Knew the boat and loved him.


    ¡°How¡¯s he going today?¡± he asked the man, as if he didn¡¯t know himself.


    Swarge looked at him, a bit surprised by such a useless question. ¡°He goes well, Captain,¡± he said. As always, the man¡¯s voice was so deep it took a trained ear to make out his words. ¡°He goes with a will. Bottom¡¯s good here. Not all sink-silt like yesterday. We¡¯re on our way. No doubt about it. Making good time, too.¡±


    ¡°Good to hear you say it, Swarge,¡± Leftrin said and let him go back to his dreaming and staring.


    Tarman had made a hard transition that year. Leftrin had let most of his crew go, confiding his discovery of the wizardwood and his plans for it only to the people he felt could keep a secret and would stay. No poleman would ever work aboard Tarman and not know the difference in the barge. Every member of this crew was handpicked now and likely to remain aboard for life. Hennesey was devoted to the ship, Bellin loved her life aboard, and Eider was as conversational as the anchor. As for Skelly, the ship was her fortune. The secret should have been safe.


    But it wasn¡¯t. And now they were all at risk, his ship included. What would the Council do if it knew what he had done? How would the dragons react? He clenched his teeth and fists. Too late to turn back.


    He took a slow turn around the deck, checking things that didn¡¯t need checking and finding all exactly as it should be. Jess and his canoe were gone. Good. He considered for a moment, then took out his rum flask and upended it over the side of the barge and into the water below. ¡°That he may not come back,¡± he offered El savagely. It was well known that that particular god wasn¡¯t moved by prayer but sometimes succumbed to bribery. Ordinarily, Leftrin worshipped Sa, when he worshipped anything. But sometimes the harshness of a pagan god was a man¡¯s last resort.


    Well, not quite his last resort. He could always murder Jess himself¡­

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    He didn¡¯t like to think about it, and not just because he was pretty certain the man would be hard to kill. He didn¡¯t like to think of himself as a man who killed inconvenient people. But Jess had indicated that he was going to be much worse than inconvenient.


    There were, he reflected, lots of ways to kill a man on the water, and many of them could be made to look accidental. He considered it coldly. Jess was tough and sagacious. Leftrin had been foolish to growl at him today. He should have pretended interest in his offer, should have chummed him in close. He should have invited him to make a midnight raid on the sleeping dragons. That would have been the prime opportunity to do him in. But the man had irritated him beyond any sort of strategic thinking. He hated how Jess snickered around Alise. The rat knew how Leftrin felt about her. Leftrin had a feeling that Jess would be happy to ruin all that simply because he could. And he¡¯d seen Jess¡¯s face when Alise had come back on board with the dragon scale and so delightedly exhibited it to all of them. He¡¯d seen the fires of greed kindle in the man¡¯s eyes and worried for her then. Leftrin walked a few more steps down the deck and then stooped to tidy a coil of line that was already tidy enough.


    Two nights ago, Jess had come to Leftrin with his new scheme. He¡¯d maddened Leftrin with his insistence that Sedric would be amenable to ¡°their¡± plans. He refused to say what he based that opinion on, but twice Leftrin had caught him lurking around the sick man¡¯s room. He only smiled that sneery smile; it was plain that he thought Leftrin and Alise and Sedric were conspiring together about the dragons. He thought it was an alliance he could break into and use for himself. Sooner or later, he¡¯d talk to Sedric. Sedric would easily believe that Leftrin was complicit with Jess¡¯s plotting. He could just imagine the Bingtown man¡¯s reaction to Jess¡¯s suggestion that Leftrin could kidnap Alise and carry her off to Chalced, with the understanding that, given enough money, Sedric would also be happy to go to Chalced. Or Alise¡¯s reaction to the idea that Leftrin was just waiting for an opportunity to butcher up a dragon.


    The man was a loose cannon. Leftrin had to do away with him. A cold certainty welled up in him; he could feel Tarman accede to the decision. Almost, it was a relief to reach it.


    There would be consequences to killing Jess, he supposed, even if he made it look like an accident. The Chalcedean merchant Sinad Arich would wonder what had become of his hireling when Jess failed to contact him. Well, let him wonder! The Rain Wild River was a dangerous place. Men just as competent as Jess and a lot nicer had died there. He felt the decision settle in him and sink down to his bones. Jess was going to die.


    But he¡¯d have to set him up for it. And that would mean trying to convince him that he¡¯d had a change of heart. He wondered if he could make him believe that he¡¯d lost interest in Alise as well. If Jess didn¡¯t see her as a weapon he could use against Leftrin, he might stop haunting her. After that, it would be a matter of waiting for the right opportunity.


    Tarman nudged him. ¡°What?¡± he demanded of his ship and stood. A quick scan around betrayed no perceptible danger. Despite his excuse to Alise, this part of the river was a fairly easy stretch. It was edged with reed beds that ventured out into the channel, so that the barge moved through them. The fishing would be good, and he suspected that the dragons would feed fairly well along today¡¯s path.


    Then he saw a shivering in the trees behind the reed banks. Every tree shook, and a few dropped yellowed leaves and small twigs. An instant later, the reed bank rippled like a wave, a wave that moved out into the river, trembling water and grasses. The motion slapped the barge¡¯s hull and then moved past it, almost vanishing in the deeper water.


    ¡°Quake!¡± Swarge raised the cry from the stern.


    ¡°Quake!¡± Big Eider bellowed the warning to the keepers in their small boats.


    ¡°So it is!¡± Leftrin shouted back. ¡°Move Tarman away from the banks as much as you can, but don¡¯t lose our grip on the bottom. ¡°Ware, now!¡±


    ¡°Ware!¡± his polemen cried him back.


    As Tarman edged away from the bank, Leftrin watched another rippling move the trees. On the shore, small debris of leaves, twigs, and old birds¡¯ nests showered down. An instant later, rank after rank of reeds bowed to the river, followed by a wavelet that rocked the boat. Leftrin scowled but kept his eyes on the trees. Quakes were frequent in the Rain Wilds, and for the most part, little tremors were ignored by everyone. Larger ones endangered not only the underground workers in the buried Elderling cities, but could also bring down old or rotten trees. Even if a tree didn¡¯t hit the barge directly, he¡¯d heard of falling trees that swamped boats. In his grandfather¡¯s time, supposedly a tree had fallen that was so large it had actually stopped all traffic on the river and had taken workers nearly six months to clear away. Leftrin was a bit skeptical about the full truth of that tale, but every legend had a grain of truth. Doubtless a very big tree had come down somewhere to spark that one.

 Page 27

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Alise sounded apprehensive. She¡¯d heard the shouts and come out on the deck.


    He answered without looking at her. ¡°We¡¯ve had a quake, and a pretty good one. No problem for us right now, and it looks like it didn¡¯t do much more than give the trees a good shake. None fell. Unless we get a second bigger shake, we¡¯ll be just fine.¡±


    To her credit, Alise simply nodded. Quakes were common all along the Cursed Shores. No Bingtown resident would be surprised by one, but he doubted she¡¯d ever experienced one on the water, nor had to worry about a big tree coming down. And it came to him that the next warning would probably be new to her as well. ¡°Sometimes a quake will wake up the acid in the river. But it doesn¡¯t happen right away. The theory is that it does something way upriver, releases the white somehow. In a couple or three days, we may suddenly find the river is running white again. Or it may not. A really bad quake may warn of a dirty rain to follow.¡±


    She realized the danger instantly. ¡°If the river runs acid, what will the dragons do? And can the small boats the keepers use withstand it?¡±


    He took a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose. ¡°Well, an acid run is always a danger on the river. The small boats could probably stand up to it for a time, but for safety¡¯s sake, if the acid was strong, we¡¯d bring the small boats on deck, stack them, and have the keepers ride with us.¡±


    ¡°And the dragons?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen, they¡¯ve got tough hides. Some of the animals, fish, and birds in the Wilds can deal with the acid. Some creatures avoid the river when it runs white; others don¡¯t seem to notice the difference. If the river runs white, a lot will depend on how white it is, and how long the run lasts. If it¡¯s only a day or so, my guess is that the dragons will be able to take it. Much longer than that, and I¡¯d be concerned. But maybe we¡¯ll be lucky and find ourselves near a fairly solid bank where the dragons could haul out and wait for the worst to pass.¡±


    ¡°What if there isn¡¯t a bank?¡± Alise asked in a low voice.


    ¡°You know the answer to that,¡± Leftrin replied. So far in their journey, that had only happened once. One night, evening had come with no resting place in sight. There had been only marshlands as far as the eye could see, nowhere for the dragons to get out of the water. Despite their grumbling, the dragons had had to stand overnight in the water, while the keepers had taken refuge on Tarman¡¯s deck. The dragons hadn¡¯t enjoyed the experience, but they had survived. But the water had been mild then, and the weather kind. ¡°They¡¯d have to endure it,¡± Leftrin said, and neither one spoke of how the acid might eat at injuries and tender tissue.


    After a few moments of silence, Leftrin added, ¡°That¡¯s always been a danger to this journey, Alise. The most obvious danger, actually, and one we¡¯ve always had to live with. The first ¡®settlers¡¯ in the Rain Wilds were actually abandoned here; no one in their right mind would come here of their own accord.¡±


    ¡°I know my history,¡± Alise interrupted a bit brusquely, but then added with a small smile, ¡°and I definitely came here of my own accord.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s so that Bingtown¡¯s history is the Rain Wilds¡¯s history. But I think we live it here a bit more than you folks do.¡± He leaned on the railing, feeling Tarman sturdy beneath him. He glanced up and down the current of his world. ¡°Strangeness flows with the water in this river, and it affects us all, one way or another. Trehaug might not be the easiest place in the world to live, and Cassarick is no better. But without those cities, Bingtown wouldn¡¯t have Elderling magic to sell. So, no Rain Wilds, no Bingtown is how I see it. But what I¡¯m trying to say is that generation after generation, decade after decade, young explorers have set out vowing they¡¯re going to find a better place to settle. Some don¡¯t come back. And those who do report the same thing. Nothing but an immense wide valley, with lots of trees and lots of wet ground. And the deeper you go into the forest, the stranger it gets. All the expeditions that have gone up this river have come back saying that they either ran out of navigable waterway, or that the river just flattened out, wider and wider, until it seemed there were no real banks to it anywhere.¡±


    ¡°But they just didn¡¯t go far enough, did they? I¡¯ve seen enough references to Kelsingra to know that the city existed. And somewhere, it still does.¡±


    ¡°The sad truth is that it could be under our hull right now, and we¡¯d never know. Or it could be half a day¡¯s journey away from us, back there in the trees, cloaked in moss and mud. Or it could have been up one of the tributaries we¡¯ve passed. Two other Elderling cities either sank or were buried. No one is sure just exactly what befell them, but we know they¡¯re underground now. The same thing could have happened to Kelsingra. Probably did happen. We know that something big and bad happened here a long time ago. It ended the Elderlings and nearly ended the dragons. It changed everything. All we¡¯re really doing right now is following the dragons up the most navigable waterway, and hoping we come to something.¡±

 Page 28

    He glanced at her, saw her face pale under her freckles and her set mouth. He tried to speak more gently. ¡°It only makes sense, Alise. If Kelsingra had survived, wouldn¡¯t the Elderlings have lived? And if the Elderlings had survived, wouldn¡¯t they have kept dragons alive somehow? In all the tapestries, they¡¯re always together.¡±


    ¡°But¡­if you don¡¯t believe we can find Kelsingra, if you never believed we could find Kelsingra, why did you undertake this expedition?¡±


    He looked at her then, full in her gray-green eyes. ¡°You wanted to go. You wanted me to go. It was a way to be with you, even if only for a time.¡± Her heart was in her eyes as he spoke those words. He looked aside from her. ¡°That was what decided me. Before, when I first heard of it, I thought to myself, ¡®Well, there¡¯s a mission for a madman. Small chance of success, and so I¡¯ll bet they pay accordingly.¡¯ A chunk of money up front, and a big promise of lots more ¡®when all is done.¡¯ And a good adventure along the way. There isn¡¯t a man on the river who doesn¡¯t wonder where it comes from. Here was a chance to find out. And I¡¯ve always been a bit of a gambler. Everyone who works the river plays the odds one way or another. So I took the bet.¡±


    He dared himself and took his own wager. Her hands were resting on the railing next to his. He lifted his hand and set it down gently upon hers. The effect on him was almost convulsive. A shiver ran over his body. Her hand was trapped under his and beneath her touch, there was Tarman. A thought floated through his mind. The whole of everything I want in this world is right here, under my hand.


    The thought echoed through him, to his very bones and out to Tarman¡¯s timbers and back again until he couldn¡¯t define where it had originated.


    Day the 12th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    Enclosure in sealed tube, highly confidential, to be delivered to Trader Newf. An extra fee has been paid to assure that this message is delivered with the stamped seal intact.


    Detozi,


    My apprentice continues to do his tasks very well. My compliments to your family on a young man well raised. There will soon be a vote of the bird keepers, but it is likely he will be raised to the status of journeyman. I tell you this in confidence, of course, knowing that no word of it will reach him until the finding is official.


    He has excelled at his tasks so well that I am considering taking some time to myself. I¡¯ve long considered a trip to the Rain Wilds and its wonders. I would not, of course, presume upon your family¡¯s hospitality, but I would greatly enjoy meeting you in person. Would you be amenable to this?


    Erek


    CHAPTER THREE


    FIRST KILL


    Every one of the keepers had instantly recognized the danger when the shuddering water had rippled against their small boats. Ahead of them, the dragons had suddenly halted, spreading their legs wide and digging their feet into the riverbed as the wave of motion passed. The silver dragon had trumpeted wildly, flinging his head about as he tried to look in every direction simultaneously. Dislodged birds burst upward from the trees and flew out over the river, croaking and squawking their distress.


    When the second quake hit and branches and leaves showered down in the forest and on the shallows, Rapskal had exclaimed, ¡°Good thing we didn¡¯t run for the shore. Think any of the trees will fall on us?¡±


    Thymara hadn¡¯t worried about it until he mentioned it. She had been caught up in comparing how a quake felt on water to how it felt when one lived high in a treetop. She wondered if her parents had felt it; up high in the canopy of Trehaug, in the flimsy cheap houses known as the Cricket Cages, a quake would make everything dance. People would shout and grip a tree limb if they could. Sometimes houses fell during quakes, heavy ones as well as flimsy ones. The thought had filled her with both worry for her parents and homesickness. But Rapskal¡¯s wondering snapped her out of that as she realized that being crushed under a falling tree might be just as dangerous as tumbling out of one. ¡°Move away from the shore,¡± she directed him, digging her own paddle into the water more vigorously. They had nearly caught up with the waiting dragons. Around them, the scattered flotilla of keeper boats moved chaotically.


    ¡°No. It¡¯s all over now. Look at the dragons. They know. They¡¯re moving on again.¡±


    He was right. Ahead of them, the dragons made small trumpeting sounds to one another as they resumed their slogging march through muck and water. They had bunched up around Mercor when they first halted. Now they spread out again. Mercor led the way and the others fell in behind him. Thymara had almost become accustomed to the daily sight of dragons wading upriver in front of her. At that moment, as they resumed their trek, she saw them afresh. There were fifteen of the creatures, varying in size from Kalo, who was almost the size of a proper dragon now, down to the copper, who was barely taller than Thymara at the shoulder. The sun glinted on the river¡¯s face and on their scales. Gold and red, lavender and orange, gleaming blue black to azure, their hides threw the glory of the sun back up into the day. It made her realize that their colors had deepened and brightened. It was not just that the immense dragons were cleaner now; it was that they were healthier. Some of them were developing secondary colors. Sintara¡¯s deep blue wings were laced with silver, and the ¡°fringes¡± on her neck were turning a different shade of blue.

 Page 29

    All of them moved with ponderous grace. Kalo and Sestican followed behind Mercor. Their heads wove back and forth as they moved, and as she watched them, Sestican darted his head into the water and brought up a fat, dangling river snake. He gave his head a sharp shake and the writhing creature suddenly hung limp in his jaws. He ate it as he walked, tilting his head back and swallowing it as if he were a bird with a worm.


    ¡°I hope my little Heeby finds something to eat on the way. She¡¯s hungry. I can feel it.¡±


    ¡°If she doesn¡¯t, we¡¯ll do our best tonight to come up with something for her.¡± She spoke the words almost without thinking. She was becoming resigned, she suddenly realized, to sharing whatever she could bring back from her evening hunt. Most often it went to whichever dragon was hungriest. That did not endear her to Sintara, but the blue queen had not been exactly generous with Thymara. Let her find out that loyalty was supposed to run both ways.


    The rest of that day, Thymara expected to feel echoing quakes, but if they came, they were so small that she didn¡¯t notice them. When they camped that night on a mud bank, the main topic of discussion had been the quake, and whether a rush of acid water would follow it. After spending the meal hour chewing over the potential threat to all of them, Greft had suddenly stood and dismissed the topic. ¡°Whatever will happen is going to happen,¡± he said sternly as if expecting them to argue. ¡°It¡¯s useless to worry and impossible to prepare. So just be ready.¡±


    He stalked away from their firelit circle into the darkness. No one spoke for a few minutes after he left. Thymara sensed awkwardness; doubtless Greft was still smarting from his misspoken words about the copper dragon. His pronouncement of the obvious seemed a feeble attempt to assert his leadership over them. Even his closest followers had seemed embarrassed for him. Neither Kase nor Boxter followed him or even looked in the direction he had gone. Thymara had kept her eyes on the flames, but from the corner of her eyes, she marked how shortly after that Jerd stood up, made a show of stretching, and then likewise wandered away from their company. As she passed behind Thymara, she bid her ¡°Good night¡± in a small catty voice. Thymara gritted her teeth and made no response.


    ¡°What¡¯s bothering her lately?¡± Rapskal, to Thymara¡¯s right, wondered aloud.


    ¡°She¡¯s just like that,¡± Tats said in a low, sour voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t know what¡¯s bothering her. And I¡¯m off to bed now,¡± Thymara replied. She wanted to get away from the firelight, lest anyone notice how embarrassed she was.


    ¡°Good night, then,¡± Tats muttered, a bit stiffly, as if her brusque reply was a rebuke to him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be along shortly,¡± Rapskal informed her cheerfully. She had not found a way to tell him that she didn¡¯t really want him to sleep against her back each night. Once, when she¡¯d gently told him that she didn¡¯t need anyone to guard her, he¡¯d replied cheerfully that he liked sleeping against her back.


    ¡°It¡¯s warmer, and if danger does come, I think you¡¯ll probably wake up faster than me. And you¡¯ve got a bigger knife, too.¡± And so, to the veiled amusement of the others, he had become her constant night companion as well as her boat partner by day. In a way, she was fond of him but could not help but be annoyed by his constant presence. Ever since she had observed Greft and Jerd, she¡¯d been troubled. She¡¯d pondered it deeply on her own and found no satisfying answers to her questions.


    Could Greft just make new rules for himself? Could Jerd? If they could, what about the rest of them? She desperately wanted to find a quiet time to talk with Tats, but Rapskal was almost always present. And when he wasn¡¯t following her about, Sylve was trailing after Tats. She wasn¡¯t sure that she would actually tell Tats what she had seen, but she knew she did want to talk with someone about it.


    When she had first returned to camp that night, she¡¯d actually wondered if she should go to Captain Leftrin and let him know what was going on, as captain of the vessel that supported their expedition. Yet the more she thought about it, the more reluctant she felt to go to him. It would, she decided, fall somewhere between tattling and betrayal. No. What Jerd and Greft were doing was a matter that concerned the dragon keepers, and no others. They were the ones who had always been bound by those rules. It was a rule that had been imposed on them by others, others like Captain Leftrin, ones who were marked but did not restrict their own lives because of it. Was that fair? Was it right that someone else could make a decision like that and bind her and the other keepers with it?

 Page 30

    Every time she thought of what she had seen, her cheeks still burned. It was uncomfortable enough that she had seen them and was now aware of what they were doing. It was even worse to know that they knew of her spying. She felt unable to face them and felt almost as uncomfortable in how she avoided them. Worse, Jerd¡¯s little barbed remarks and Greft¡¯s complacent stares made her feel as if she were the one in the wrong. That couldn¡¯t be so. Could it?


    What Greft and Jerd were doing ran counter to everything she¡¯d ever been taught. Even if they had been wed, it would still have been wrong¡­not that they would have been allowed to wed. When the Rain Wilds marked a child heavily from birth, all knew that it was best to expose the baby and try again. Such children seldom lived past their fifth birthdays. In a place where scarcity was the norm, it was foolish for parents to pour effort and resources into such a child. Better to give it up at birth, and try for another baby as soon as possible. Those like Thymara who, by fluke or stubbornness, survived were forbidden to take mates, let alone have children.


    So if what they were doing was wrong, why was she the one who felt not only guilty but foolish? She wrapped her blanket more tightly around herself and stared off into the darkness. She could still hear the others talking and sometimes laughing around the fire. She wished she were with them, wished she could still enjoy the companionship of their journey. Somehow Jerd and Greft had spoiled that for her. Did the others know about it, and not care? What would they think of her if she told them? Would they turn on Greft and Jerd? Would they turn on her and laugh at her, for thinking she was still bound? Not knowing the answers made her feel childish.


    She was still awake when Rapskal came to take his blanket from their boat. She watched him from under her lashes as he came to her cloaked in his blanket. He stepped over her, sat down with his back to her, and then snugged himself up against her back. He heaved a great sigh and within a few moments fell into a deep sleep.


    His weight was warm against her back. She thought how she could just roll over to face him, and how that would wake him. She wondered what would happen next? Rapskal, for all his oddness, was physically handsome. His pale blue eyes were at once unsettling and strangely attractive. Despite his scaling, he¡¯d kept his long dark eyelashes. She didn¡¯t love him, well, not that way, but he was undeniably an attractive male. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, thinking about what she had seen Jerd and Greft doing. She doubted that Jerd loved Greft, or that he cared deeply for her. They¡¯d been arguing right before they¡¯d done it. What did that mean? Rapskal¡¯s back was warm against hers through the blankets, but a sudden shiver ran over her. It was a quiver, not of chill, but of possibility.


    Moving very slowly, she edged her body away from his. No. Not tonight. Not by impulse, not without thought. No. It did not matter what others did. She had to think for herself about such things.


    DAWN CAME TOO soon and brought no answers with it. Thymara sat up stiffly, unable to tell if she had slept or not. Rapskal slept on, as did most of the others. The dragons were not early risers. Many of the keepers had taken to sleeping in almost as late as the dragons did. But for Thymara, old habits died hard. Light had always wakened her, and she¡¯d always known from her father that the early hours were the best for hunting or for gathering. So despite her weariness, she rose. She stood a time looking thoughtfully down on Rapskal. His dark lashes curled on his cheeks; his mouth was relaxed, full and soft. His hands were curled in loose fists under his chin. His nails were pinker than they had been. She bent closer for a better look. Yes, they were changing. Scarlet to match his little dragon. She found herself smiling about that and realized that she could smell him, a male musk that was not at all repellent. She straightened up and drew back from him. What was she thinking? That he smelled good? How had Jerd chosen Greft, she wondered, and why? Then she folded her blanket and restored it to her boat.


    Part of the camp routine each night was to dig a sand well. The hole was dug some distance away from the water¡¯s edge and then lined with canvas. The water that seeped up in the shallow hole and filtered through the canvas was always less acidic than the river water. Even so, she approached it with caution. She saw with relief that this morning the river was still running almost clear, so she judged it safe to wash her face and hands, and drank deeply. The cold water shocked the last vestiges of sleep from her mind. Time to face the day.


    Most of the others were still bundled in their blankets around the smoldering embers of last night¡¯s fire. They looked, she thought, rather like blue cocoons. Or dragon cases. She yawned again and decided to take a walk along the water¡¯s edge with her pole spear. With a bit of luck, she¡¯d find either breakfast for herself or a snack for Sintara.

 Page 31

    Fish would be nice. Meat would be better. The sleepy thought from the dragon confirmed her impulse.


    ¡°Fish,¡± Thymara replied firmly, speaking aloud as she shared her thoughts with the dragon. ¡°Unless I happen to encounter small game at the river¡¯s edge. But I¡¯m not going into the forest at the beginning of the day. I don¡¯t want to be late when everyone else wakes up and is ready for travel.¡±


    Are you sure that you don¡¯t fear what you might see back there? The dragon¡¯s question had a small barb to it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fear it. I just don¡¯t want to see it,¡± Thymara retorted. She tried, with limited success, to close her mind to the dragon¡¯s touch. She could refuse to hear Sintara¡¯s words, but not evade her presence.


    Thymara had had time to think of Sintara¡¯s role in her discovery. She was sure that the dragon had deliberately sent her after Greft and Jerd, that she had been aware of what they were doing, and had used every means at her disposal to be sure that Thymara witnessed it. It still stung when she thought of how Sintara had used her glamour to compel her to follow Greft¡¯s trail into the forest.


    What she didn¡¯t know was why the dragon had sent her after them, and she hadn¡¯t asked directly. She¡¯d already learned that the fastest way to make Sintara lie to her was to ask her a direct question. She¡¯d learn more by waiting and listening. Not so different from dealing with my mother, she thought, and smiled grimly to herself.


    She pushed the thought out of her mind and immersed herself in her hunting. She could find peace in this hour. Few of the other keepers roused so early. The dragons might stir but were not active, preferring to let the sun grow strong and warm them before they exerted themselves. She had the riverbank to herself as she quietly stalked the water¡¯s edge, spear poised. She forgot everything else but herself and her prey as the world balanced perfectly around her. The sky was a blue stripe above the river¡¯s wide channel. Along the river¡¯s edge, knee-high reeds shivered in water that was almost clear. The smooth mudbank of the river had recorded every creature that had come and gone in the night. While the dragon keepers had slumbered, at least two swamp elk had come down to the water¡¯s edge and then retreated. Something with webbed feet had clambered out on the bank, eaten freshwater clams and discarded the shells, and then slid back in.


    She saw a large whiskered fish come groping into the shallows. He did not seem to see her. His barbels stirred the silt, and with a snap he gobbled some small creature he had ousted. He ventured closer to where she stood, spear poised, but the instant she jabbed with her weapon, he was gone with a flick of his tail, leaving only a haze of silt floating around her spear.


    ¡°Damn the luck,¡± she muttered and pulled her spear back out of the silt.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a prayer,¡± Alise rebuked her gently.


    Thymara tried not to be startled. She brought her spear back to the ready, glanced at the woman over her shoulder, and resumed her slow patrol of the riverbank. ¡°I¡¯m hunting. I missed.¡±


    ¡°I know. I saw.¡±


    Thymara kept walking, her eyes on the river, hoping the Bingtown woman would take the hint and leave her alone. She didn¡¯t hear Alise following her, but from the corner of her eye, she was aware of Alise¡¯s shadow keeping pace with her. After holding her silence for a time, Thymara defiantly decided she wasn¡¯t afraid of the woman. She spoke to her. ¡°It¡¯s early for you to be out and about.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep. I¡¯ve been up since before dawn. And I confess that a deserted riverbank can be lonely after an hour or so. I was relieved to see you.¡±


    The comment was far friendlier than she had expected. Why was the woman even speaking to her? Could she truly be that lonely? Without pausing to think she said, ¡°But you have Sedric to keep you company. How can you be lonely?¡±


    ¡°He still isn¡¯t well. And, well, he has not been as friendly to me of late. Not without cause, I¡¯m ashamed to say.¡±


    Thymara stared into the river, glad that the Bingtown woman could not see her expression of astonishment. Was she confiding in her? Why? What could she possibly think they had in common? Curiosity dug its claws into her and hung on until she asked, in what she hoped was a casual voice, ¡°What cause has he to be unfriendly to you?¡±


    Alise sighed heavily. ¡°Well, you know he hasn¡¯t been well. Sedric usually has excellent health, so it would be hard for him to be ill at any time. But it is especially hard for him when he is in what he regards as very uncomfortable living circumstances. His bed is narrow and hard, he doesn¡¯t like the smell of the boat or the river, the food either bores or disgusts him, his room is dim, there is no entertainment for him. He¡¯s miserable. And it¡¯s my fault that he¡¯s here. He didn¡¯t want to come to the Rain Wilds, let alone embark on this expedition.¡±

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    Another big lunker had come into the shallows, investigating the silt. For an instant, he seemed to see her. Thymara stood perfectly still. Then, as he began to sift the silt with his whiskers, she struck. She was so sure that she had hit him, it was a surprise to have the silt clear and find that her spear was simply dug into the mud. She pulled it out.


    ¡°You missed again,¡± the Bingtown woman said, but there was genuine sympathy in her voice. ¡°I was so sure you got that one. But they¡¯re very quick to react, aren¡¯t they? I don¡¯t think I could ever manage to spear one.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it just takes practice,¡± Thymara assured her, keeping her eyes on the water. No, it was gone, long gone. That one wouldn¡¯t be back.


    ¡°Have you been doing this since you were a child?¡±


    ¡°Fishing? Not so much.¡± Thymara continued her slow patrol along the water¡¯s edge. Alise kept pace with her. She kept her voice soft. ¡°I hunted in the canopy mainly. Birds and small mammals up there, some lizards and some pretty big snakes. Fishing isn¡¯t that different from hunting birds when it comes to the stalking part.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I could learn?¡±


    Thymara halted in her tracks and turned around to face Alise. ¡°Why would you want to?¡± she asked in honest confusion.


    Alise blushed and looked down. ¡°It would be nice to be able to do something real. You¡¯re so much younger than I am, but you¡¯re so competent at taking care of yourself. I envy you that. Sometimes I watch you and the other keepers, and I feel so useless. Like a pampered little house cat watching hunting cats at work. Lately I¡¯ve been trying to justify why I came along, why I dragged poor Sedric along with me. I said I was going to be collecting information about dragons. I said I¡¯d be needed here to help people deal with the dragons. I told my husband and Sedric that this was a priceless opportunity for me to learn, and to share what I¡¯d learn. I told the Elderling Malta that I knew about the lost city and could possibly help the dragons find their way back. But I¡¯ve done none of those things.¡±


    Her voice dropped on her last words and she sounded ashamed.


    Thymara was silent. Was this grand Bingtown lady looking to her for comfort and reassurance? That seemed all wrong. Just when the silence would have become too obvious, she found her tongue. ¡°You have helped with the dragons, I think. You were there when Captain Leftrin was helping us get the snakes off them, and before, when we were bandaging up the silver¡¯s tail. I was surprised, I¡¯ll admit. I thought you were too fine a lady for messy work like that¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fine a lady?¡± Alise interrupted her. She laughed in an odd shrill way. ¡°You think me a fine lady?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­of course. Look at how you dress. And you are from Bingtown, and you are a scholar. You write scrolls about dragons and you know all about the Elderlings.¡± She ran out of reasons and just stood looking at Alise. Even today, to walk on the beach at dawn, the woman had dressed her hair and pinned it up. She wore a hat to protect her hair and face from the sun. She wore a shirt and trousers, but they were clean and pressed. The tops of her boots were gleaming black even if fresh river mud clung to her feet. Thymara glanced at herself. The mud that caked her boots and laces was days, not hours, old. Her shirt and her trousers both bore the signs of hard use and little washing. And her hair? Without thinking, she reached up to touch her dark braids. When had she last washed her hair and smoothed it and rebraided it? When had she last washed her entire body?


    ¡°I married a wealthy man. My family is, well, our fortune is humbler. I suppose that I am a lady, when I am in Bingtown, and perhaps it is a fine thing to be. But here, well, here in the Rain Wilds I¡¯ve begun to see myself a bit differently. To wish for different things than I did before.¡± Her voice died away. Then she said suddenly, ¡°If you wanted, Thymara, you could come to my cabin this evening. I could show you a different way to do your hair. And you¡¯d have some privacy if you wished to take a bath, even if the tub is scarcely big enough to stand in.¡±


    ¡°I know how to wash myself!¡± Thymara retorted, stung.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Alise said immediately. Her cheeks had gone very red. She blushed more scarlet than anyone Thymara had ever known. ¡°My words were not¡­I didn¡¯t express what I was trying to say. I saw you look at yourself, and thought how selfish I¡¯ve been, to have privacy to bathe and dress while you and Sylve and Jerd have had to live rough and in the open among the boys and men. I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Were they the hardest words Thymara had ever had to say? Probably not, but they were hard enough. She didn¡¯t meet Alise¡¯s eyes. She forced out other words. ¡°I know you meant it kindly. My father often told me that I take offense too easily. That not everyone wants to insult me.¡± Her throat was getting smaller and tighter. The pain of unsheddable tears was building at the inner corners of her eyes. From forcing words, suddenly she couldn¡¯t stop them. ¡°I don¡¯t expect people to like me or be nice to me. It¡¯s the opposite. I expect¡ª¡±

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    ¡°You don¡¯t have to explain,¡± Alise said suddenly. ¡°We¡¯re more alike than you think we are.¡± She gave a shaky laugh. ¡°Sometimes, do you find reasons to disdain people you haven¡¯t met yet, just so you can dislike them before they dislike you?¡±


    ¡°Well, of course,¡± Thymara admitted, and the laughter they shared had a brittle edge. A bird flew up from the river¡¯s edge, startling them both, and then their laughter became more natural, ending as they both drew breath.


    Alise wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. ¡°I wonder if this is what Sintara wanted me to learn from you. She strongly suggested this morning that I seek you out. Do you think she wanted us to discover that we are not so different?¡± The woman¡¯s voice was warm when she spoke of the dragon, but a chill went up Thymara¡¯s back at her words.


    ¡°No,¡± she said quietly. She tried to form her thought carefully, so as not to hurt Alise¡¯s feelings. She wasn¡¯t sure, just yet, if she wanted to be as friendly as the Bingtown woman seemed inclined to be, but she didn¡¯t want to put her on her guard again. ¡°No, I think Sintara was manipulating you, well, us. A couple of days ago, she pushed me to do something, and well, it didn¡¯t turn out nicely at all.¡± She glanced at Alise, fearing what she¡¯d see, but the Bingtown woman looked thoughtful, not affronted. ¡°I think she may be trying to see just how much power she has over us. I¡¯ve felt her glamour. Have you?¡±


    ¡°Of course. It¡¯s a part of her. I don¡¯t know if a dragon can completely control the effect she has on humans. It¡¯s her nature. Just as a human dominates a pet dog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not her pet,¡± Thymara retorted. Fear sharpened her words. Did Sintara dominate her more than she realized?


    ¡°No. You¡¯re not, and neither am I. Though I suspect she considers me more her pet than anything else. I think she respects you, because you can hunt. But she has told me, more than once, that I fail to assert myself as a female. I¡¯m not sure why, but I think I disappoint her.¡±


    ¡°She pushed me to go hunting his morning. I told her I preferred to fish.¡±


    ¡°She told me to follow you when you hunted. I saw you here on the riverbank.¡±


    Thymara was quiet. She lifted her fish spear again and walked slowly along the river¡¯s edge, thinking. Was it betrayal? Then she spoke. ¡°I know what she wanted you to see. The same thing I saw. I think she wanted you to know that Jerd and Greft have been mating.¡±


    She waited for a response. When none came, she looked back at Alise. The Bingtown woman¡¯s cheeks were pink again, but she tried to speak calmly. ¡°Well. I suppose that, living like this, with no privacy and little supervision, it is easy for a young girl to give in to a young man¡¯s urging. They would not be the first to sample the dinner before the table is set. Do you know if they intend to marry?¡±


    Thymara stared at her. She put her words together carefully. ¡°Alise, people like me, like them, people who are already so heavily touched by the Rain Wilds, we are not allowed to marry. Or to mate. They are breaking one of the oldest rules of the Rain Wilds.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a law, then?¡± Alise looked puzzled.


    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a law. It¡¯s a custom. It¡¯s something everyone knows and does. If a baby is born and it¡¯s already changed so much from pure human, then its parents don¡¯t raise it. They ¡®give it to the night¡¯ they expose it and try again. Only for some of us, like me, well, my father took me back. He brought me home and kept me.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a fish there, a really big one. He¡¯s in the shadow of that driftwood log. See him? He looks like he¡¯s part of the shadow.¡±


    Alise sounded excited. Thymara was jolted at the change of subject. On an impulse, she handed her spear to Alise. ¡°You get him. You saw him first. Remember, don¡¯t try to jab the fish. Stab it in like you want to stick it into the ground beyond the fish. Push hard.¡±


    ¡°You should do it,¡± Alise said as she took the spear. ¡°I¡¯ll miss. He¡¯ll get away. And he¡¯s a very big fish.¡±


    ¡°Then he¡¯s a good big target for your first try. Go on. Try it.¡± Thymara stepped slowly back and away from the river.


    Alise¡¯s pale eyes widened. Her glance went from Thymara to the fish and back again. Then she took two deep shuddering breaths and then suddenly sprang at the fish, spear in hand. She landed with a splash and a shout in ankle-deep water as she stabbed the spear down with far more force than she needed to use. Thymara stared openmouthed as the Bingtown woman used both hands to drive the spear in even deeper. Surely the fish was long gone. But no, Alise stood in the water, holding the spear tightly as a long, thick fish thrashed out its death throes.

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    When it finally stilled, she turned to Thymara and cried breathlessly, ¡°I did it! I did it! I speared a fish! I killed it!¡±


    ¡°Yes, you did. And you should get out of the water before you ruin your boots.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about them. I got a fish. Can I try again? Can I kill another?¡±


    ¡°I suppose you can. Alise, let¡¯s get the first one ashore, shall we?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lose it! Don¡¯t let it get away!¡± This she cried as Thymara waded out and put a hand on the spear.


    ¡°It won¡¯t get away. It¡¯s very dead. We have to pull the spear out of the ground so we can get the fish to shore. Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t lose it.¡±


    ¡°I really did it, didn¡¯t I? I killed a fish.¡±


    ¡°You did.¡±


    It took some effort to free the spear from the mud. The fish was bigger than Thymara had expected. It took both of them to drag it back to shore. It was an ugly creature, black and finely scaled with long teeth in its blunt face. When they flipped it up onto the shore, it had a brilliant scarlet belly. Thymara had never seen anything like it. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if this is something we can eat,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Sometimes animals that are brightly colored are poisonous.¡±


    ¡°We should ask Mercor. He¡¯ll know. He remembers a great deal.¡± Alise crouched down to examine her prize. She reached out a curious finger and then pulled it back. ¡°It¡¯s strange. All of the dragons seem to have different levels of recall. Sometimes I think Sintara refuses to answer my questions because she cannot. But with Mercor, I always feel like he knows things but won¡¯t share them. When he talks to me, he talks about everything except dragons and Elderlings.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we should touch it before we know.¡± Thymara had remained crouched by the fish. Alise nodded. She rose, took up the spear, and began prowling along the river¡¯s edge. Her excitement was palpable.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what else we can kill. Then we¡¯ll ask Mercor about that one.¡±


    Thymara stood up. She felt a bit naked without her spear. It was odd to be the one trailing after someone else who was hunting. She didn¡¯t much like the feeling. She found herself talking, as if it would restore her sense of importance. ¡°Mercor seems older than the other dragons, doesn¡¯t he? Older and more tired.¡±


    ¡°He does.¡± Alise spoke quietly. She didn¡¯t move as smoothly as Thymara did, but she was trying. Thymara realized that her tiptoeing and hunched stance was an exaggerated imitation of Thymara¡¯s prowl. She couldn¡¯t decide if she was flattered or insulted. ¡°It¡¯s because he remembers so much more than the others. I sometimes think that age is based more on what you¡¯ve done and what you remember than how old you are. And I think Mercor remembers a lot, even about being a serpent.¡±


    ¡°He always seems sad to me. And gentler, in a way that the other dragons are not gentle at all.¡±


    Alise hunkered down on her heels, peering under a tangle of branches and fallen leaves. She sounded both intent and distracted as she replied. ¡°I think he remembers more than the others. I had one good evening of talking to him. When he spoke to me, he was far more open and direct than any of the other dragons had been. Even so, he only spoke in generalities rather than of his specific ancestral memories. But he expressed things I¡¯ve never heard the other dragons say.¡± She extended the spear and tried to lift some of the weed mass out of her way. As she did so, a fish darted out. She lunged at it with a splash and a shout, but it was gone.


    ¡°Next time, if you think a fish might be there, just stab down. If you move the water anywhere near a fish looking for it, it¡¯s gone. Might as well risk a jab and maybe get something.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Alise expended an exasperated breath and continued to stalk down the shore.


    Thymara followed. ¡°Mercor said unusual things?¡± she prompted Alise.


    ¡°Oh. Yes, he did. He spoke quite a bit about Kelsingra. He said it was a significant city for both dragons and Elderlings. There was a special kind of silvery water there that the dragons especially enjoyed. He couldn¡¯t or wouldn¡¯t explain that to me. But he said it was an important place because it was where the Elderlings and dragons came together and made agreements. The way he spoke, it gave me a different view of how Elderlings and dragons interacted. Almost like adjacent kingdoms making treaties and having accords. When I mentioned that to him, he said it was more like symbiosis.¡±


    ¡°Symbiosis?¡±


    ¡°They lived together in a way that benefited both. But more than benefited. He did not say it directly, but I think he believes that if Elderlings had survived, dragons would not have vanished from this world for as long as they did. I think he feels that restoring Elderlings will be key to the dragons continuing to survive in this world.¡±

 Page 35

    ¡°Well, there is Malta and Reyn. And Selden.¡±


    ¡°But none of them is here,¡± Alise pointed out. She started to step into the water and halted. ¡°Do you see that speckled place? Is that a shadow on the river bottom or a fish?¡± She tilted her head the other way. ¡°So the dragons now depend on their keepers for what Elderlings did for them, once upon a time.¡± She cocked her head. ¡°Hmm. I wonder if that was why they insisted on having keepers accompanying them, as well as the hunters? I¡¯ve wondered about that. Why did they want so many keepers but were content with only three hunters? What could all of you do for them that the hunters didn¡¯t do?¡±


    ¡°Well, we groom them. And we pay a lot of attention to them. You know how much they love to be flattered.¡± Thymara paused, thinking. Why had the dragons demanded keepers? She saw Alise¡¯s intent stare. ¡°If you think it might be a fish, jab it! If it¡¯s only a shadow, no harm done. If it¡¯s a fish, you¡¯ll kill it.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Alise took a deep breath.


    ¡°Don¡¯t scream this time. Or jump in the water. You don¡¯t want to scare other nearby game or fish.¡±


    Alise froze. ¡°Did I scream last time?¡±


    Thymara tried to laugh quietly. ¡°Yes. And you jumped in the water. Just use the spear this time. Farther back. Pull your arm farther back. There. Now look at where you want to hit it and jab for it.¡± I sound like my father, she realized abruptly. And just as suddenly discovered that she was enjoying teaching Alise.


    Alise was a good student. She listened. She took her breath, focused on whatever she was seeing, and plunged the spear in. Thymara had not believed there was a fish there, but the spear went into something alive, for a very large patch of water suddenly erupted into furious thrashing. ¡°Hold the spear firm, hold the spear firm!¡± she shouted at Alise and then leaped forward to add her weight to the Bingtown woman¡¯s. Whatever she had jabbed was large, and possibly not a fish at all. The thrust had pinned something to the river bottom. It was large and flat bodied and had a lashlike tail that suddenly began snapping about below the water. ¡°It might have barbs or a sting! Watch out!¡± Thymara warned her. She thought Alise would let go her grip on the spear; instead she hung on doggedly.


    ¡°Get¡­another spear¡­or something!¡± Alise gasped.


    For a moment, Thymara froze. Then she dashed off back to the boats. Tats¡¯s was closest and his gear was inside it. He was sitting on the ground next to it, just waking up. ¡°Borrowing your spear!¡± she barked at him, and as he began to stir, she snatched it up and ran back with it.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting away!¡± Alise was shouting as Thymara dashed back. Someone followed her. She glanced back and saw Rapskal and Sylve coming at a run, with Captain Leftrin behind them. The camp had awakened while she and Alise were fishing. Heedless of the animal¡¯s lashing tail, Alise had waded out into the water to lean more heavily on the spear. Thymara gritted her teeth and plunged in. She jabbed her spear into the murky water where she judged the main part of the fish¡¯s body to be. It went deep into something muscular; the spear pole was all but snatched out of her hands by the creature¡¯s furious reaction. It moved, dragging her and Alise into deeper water in its efforts to escape.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to let it go!¡± she gasped, but behind her Rapskal shouted, ¡°No!¡± and waded in with a will. Heedless of the tail that wildly lashed through the water, he proceeded to jab the thing half a dozen times with his own fish spear. Dark blood tendriled through the murky water and the fish only redoubled its efforts.


    ¡°Pull out my spear! Don¡¯t let it carry it off!¡± Thymara shouted at Alise. She was soaked to the waist and grimly clinging to the spear.


    ¡°Nor mine!¡± Tats shouted. ¡°Thymara, that¡¯s my last one!¡±


    ¡°Out of the way!¡± Sintara trumpeted, but gave no one time to obey her. The dragon lumbered into the water as Rapskal frantically tried to avoid her.


    ¡°Thymara!¡± Tats shouted, and then Sintara¡¯s unfolding wing hit her. The water seemed to leap up and seize her; the spear was jerked from her hands. Then something large, flat, and alive struck her, rasping fabric and skin from her left arm before propelling her into deeper water. She opened her mouth to shout a protest and silty water filled it. She blew it out, but had no air to replace it. She held her breath desperately. She had never learned to swim; she was a climber, made for the canopy, and she floundered in this foreign element that had seized her and was hurrying her along to somewhere.


    Light broke over her face suddenly, but before she could take a breath, she sank again. Someone, she thought, had shouted something. Her eyes stung and her arm burned. Something seized her, engulfing her torso and squeezing. She beat at the scaly thing with her fists, and her mouth burst open in an airless scream. It dragged her through the water and then out of it. A thought penetrated her mind. I have her! I have her!

 Page 36

    Then she was hanging from Mercor¡¯s jaws. She could feel his teeth through her clothes. He held her gingerly, but still they scratched her. Before she could react to being in a dragon¡¯s mouth, he dropped her on the muddy riverbank. A circle of shouting people closed around her as she gagged up river water and sand. It ran in gritty streams from her nose. She wiped at her face and someone pushed a blanket into her hands. She dried her face on a corner of it and blinked her eyes. Her vision was blurry, but it slowly cleared.


    ¡°Are you all right? Are you all right?¡± It was Tats, kneeling next to her, soaking wet, and asking the same question over and over.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault! I didn¡¯t want to let the fish go. Oh, Sa forgive me, it¡¯s all my fault! Is she going to be all right? She¡¯s bleeding! Oh, someone get some bandaging!¡± Alise was pale, her red hair hanging in wet streamers down her face.


    Rapskal was fussing over her, trying to hold her down. Thymara pushed him aside and sat up, to belch and spit out more sandy water. ¡°Please, give me some space,¡± she said. It was only when a shadow moved away that she became aware that a dragon had been standing over her also. She spat more grit out of her mouth. Her eyes were sore and tears could not come. She wiped at them lightly with her fingers, and silt came away.


    ¡°Tip your head back,¡± Tats ordered her gruffly, and when she did, he poured clean water over her face. ¡°Doing your arm now,¡± he warned her, and the cool flow made her gasp as it eased the burning she¡¯d been trying to ignore. She sneezed abruptly, and water and mucus flew everywhere. She wiped her face with the blanket, earning a cry of ¡°Hey, that¡¯s my blanket!¡± from Rapskal.


    ¡°You can use mine,¡± she said hoarsely. She suddenly realized she wasn¡¯t dead or dying, only strangely humiliated by everyone¡¯s attention. She struggled to get to her feet. When Tats helped her, she managed not to jerk her arm away from him, though she didn¡¯t like to appear weak in front of everyone. An instant later, it was even worse when Alise enveloped her in a hug.


    ¡°Oh, Thymara, I¡¯m so sorry! I nearly killed you and all for a fish!¡±


    She managed to disentangle herself from Alise. ¡°What sort of a fish was it?¡± she asked, trying to divert attention away from herself. Her abraded arm stung and her clothes were wet. She slung the blanket around her shoulders as Alise said, ¡°Come and see. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±


    Neither had Thymara. In shape, it was like an inverted dinner plate, but a plate twice the size of Thymara¡¯s blanket. It had two bulbous eyes on top of its body, and a long, whiplike tail with a series of barbs on the end. The top of it was speckled light and dark, like the river bottom, but its underside was white. It bore the wounds of spears in a dozen places, and gashes where Sintara had dragged it ashore. ¡°Is it a fish?¡± she asked incredulously.


    ¡°Looks a bit like a ray; yes, a fish,¡± Leftrin commented. ¡°But I¡¯ve never seen anything like this in the river, only in salt water. And I¡¯ve never seen one this size.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s mine to eat,¡± Sintara asserted. ¡°But for me, it would have been lost.¡±


    ¡°Your greed nearly killed me,¡± Thymara said. She did not speak loudly but firmly. She was surprised she could say the words so calmly. ¡°You knocked me into the river. I nearly drowned.¡± She looked at the dragon and Sintara looked back. She sensed nothing from her, no sense of remorse, or justification. They¡¯d come so far together. The dragon had grown stronger and larger and definitely more beautiful. But unlike the other dragons, she had not grown closer to her keeper. A terrible regret welled up in Thymara. Sintara grew more beautiful daily; she was, without doubt, the most glorious creature that Thymara had ever seen. She had dreamed of being companion to such a wonderful being, dreamed of basking in her reflected glory. She¡¯d fed the dragon to the best of her ability, groomed her daily, doctored her when she thought she could help her, and praised her and flattered her through every step of their day. She¡¯d seen her grow in health and strength.


    And today the dragon had nearly killed her. By carelessness, not temper. And did not express even a moment of regret. Her earlier question came back to her. Why had the dragons wanted keepers? The answer seemed clear to her now. To be their servants. Nothing more.


    She had heard people speak of ¡°heartbreak.¡± She had not known that it actually caused a pain in the chest, as if, indeed, her heart were torn. She looked at her dragon and struggled to find words. She could have said, ¡°You are no longer my dragon, and I am not your keeper.¡± But she didn¡¯t, because it suddenly seemed as if that had never been true at all. She shook her head slowly at the beautiful sapphire creature and then turned aside from her. She looked around at the circle of gathered keepers and dragons. Alise was looking at her, her gray eyes wide. She was soaking wet; Captain Leftrin had put his coat around her shoulders. The Bingtown woman stared at her wordlessly, and Thymara knew that she alone grasped what she was feeling. That was unbearable. She turned and walked away. A stone-faced Tats stepped aside and let her pass.

 Page 37

    She hadn¡¯t gone a dozen steps before Sylve fell in beside her. Mercor moved slowly along beside her. The girl spoke quietly. ¡°Mercor found you in the water and pulled you out.¡±


    Thymara stopped. Mercor had been the dragon overshadowing her when she was recovering. Reflexively, she touched her ribs where his teeth had torn her clothes and scraped her skin. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. She looked up into the golden dragon¡¯s gently swirling eyes. ¡°You saved my life.¡± Sylve¡¯s dragon had saved her after her own had shoved her into the water and left her there. She could not bear the contrast. She turned and walked away from both of them.


    ALISE COULD SCARCELY bear to watch Thymara go. Pain seemed to emanate from her in a cloud as she trudged away. She swung her gaze back to Sintara. But before she could find words to speak, the dragon suddenly threw up her head, wheeled around, and stalked off, lashing her tail as she went. She opened her wings and gave them a violent shake, heedless that she spattered the gathered humans and dragons with water and sand.


    One of the younger keepers spoke into the silence. ¡°If she isn¡¯t going to eat that, can Heeby have it? She¡¯s pretty hungry. Well, she¡¯s always hungry.¡±


    ¡°Is it safe for any of the dragons to eat? Is it edible?¡± Alise asked anxiously. ¡°These fish look strange to me. I think we should be cautious of them.¡±


    ¡°Those are fish from the Great Blue Lake. I know them of old. The one with the red belly is safe for dragons, but poisons humans. The flatfish, any may eat.¡±


    Alise turned to Mercor¡¯s voice. The golden dragon approached the gathered humans. He moved with ponderous grace and dignity. Perhaps he was not the largest of the dragons, but he was certainly the most imposing. She lifted her voice to address him. ¡°The Great Blue Lake?¡±


    ¡°It is a lake fed by several rivers, and the mother of what you call the Rain Wild River. It was a very large lake that swelled even larger during the rainy seasons. The fishing in it was excellent. These fish you have killed today would have been regarded as small in the days that I recall.¡± His voice went distant as he reminisced. ¡°The Elderlings fished in boats with brightly colored sails. Seen from above, it was a very pretty sight, the wide blue lake and the sails of the fishing vessels scattered across it. There were few permanent Elderling settlements near the lake¡¯s shores, because the flooding was chronic, but wealthy Elderlings built homes on piers or brought houseboats down to the Great Blue Lake for the summers.¡±


    ¡°How close was the Great Blue Lake to Kelsingra?¡± She waited breathlessly for the answer.


    ¡°As a dragon flies? Not far.¡± There was humor in his voice. ¡°It was no difficulty for us to cross the wide lake, and then we flew straight rather than follow the winding of the river. But I do not think you can look at these fish and say that we are close to the Great Blue Lake or Kelsingra. Fish do not stay in one place.¡± He lifted his head and looked around as if surveying the day. ¡°And neither should dragons. Our day is escaping us. It is time we all ate, and then left this place.¡±


    With no more ado, he strolled over to the red-bellied fish, bent his head, and matter-of-factly claimed it as his own. Several of the dragons moved in on the flatfish. Little red Heeby was the first to sink her teeth into it. The tenders moved back and allowed them room. None of them seemed inclined to want a share of the fish.


    AS THEY DISPERSED back to their abandoned bedding and cook fires, Leftrin offered Alise his arm. She took it. He said, ¡°You should get out of those wet clothes as soon as you can. The river water is mild today, but the longer it¡¯s against your skin, the more likely you are to get a reaction to it.¡±


    As if his words had prompted it, she became aware of how her collar itched against her neck and the waistband of her trousers rubbed her. ¡°I think that would be a good idea.¡±


    ¡°It would. Whatever possessed you to get involved in Thymara¡¯s fishing anyway?¡±


    She bristled a bit at the amusement in his voice. ¡°I wanted to learn to do something useful,¡± she said stiffly.


    ¡°More useful than learning about the dragons?¡± His tone was conciliatory, and that almost offended her more.


    ¡°I think what I¡¯m learning is important, but I¡¯m not certain it¡¯s useful to the expedition. If I had a more solid skill, such as providing food or¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think the knowledge you just got out of Mercor is useful? I¡¯m not sure that any of us would have been able to provoke that information out of him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s that useful to know,¡± Alise said. She tried to keep her edge, but Leftrin knew too well how to calm her. And his view of her conversation with the dragon intrigued her.

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    ¡°Well, Mercor is right in that fish don¡¯t have to stay in one spot. They move. But you¡¯re right in that we haven¡¯t seen any of these kinds of fish before. So I¡¯d guess that we¡¯re closer to where they used to live than we were. If their ancestors came from a lake that used to be on the water system before one got to Kelsingra, then we¡¯re still going in the right direction. There¡¯s still hope of finding it. I¡¯d begun to fear that we¡¯d passed by where it used to be and there¡¯d been no sign of it.¡±


    She was flabbergasted. ¡°I¡¯d never even considered such a thing.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s been on my mind quite a bit of late. With your friend Sedric so sick and you so downhearted, I¡¯d begun to ask myself if there was any point to going any farther. Maybe it was a pointless expedition to nowhere. But I¡¯m going to take those fish as a sign that we¡¯re on the right track, and push on.¡±


    ¡°For how much longer?¡±


    He paused before he answered that. ¡°Until we give up, I suppose,¡± he said.


    ¡°And what would determine that?¡± The itching was starting to burn. She began to walk faster. He didn¡¯t comment on it, but accommodated his stride to hers.


    ¡°When it was clearly hopeless,¡± he said in a low voice. ¡°Until the river gets spread so shallow that not even Tarman can stay afloat. Or until the rains of winter come and make the water so deep and the current so strong that we can¡¯t make any headway against it. That was what I told myself at first. To be honest with you, Alise, this has turned out very differently from what I expected. I thought we¡¯d have dead and dying dragons by now, not to mention keepers that either got hurt or sick or ran off. We¡¯ve had none of that. And I¡¯ve come to like these youngsters more than I care to admit, and even to admire some of the dragons. That Mercor, for instance. He¡¯s got courage and heart. He went right after Thymara, when I thought she was dead and gone for sure.¡± He chuckled and shook his head. ¡°Now she¡¯s a tough one. No tears or whining. Just got up and shook it off. They¡¯re all growing up as each day passes, keepers and dragons alike.¡±


    ¡°In more ways than you might guess,¡± she confirmed. She tugged her collar loose. ¡°Leftrin, I¡¯m going to run for the boat. My skin is starting to burn.¡±


    ¡°What did you mean by what you just said?¡± he called after her, but she didn¡¯t reply. She darted away from him, easily outdistancing his more ponderous stride. ¡°I¡¯ll haul some clean water for you,¡± he shouted after her, and she fled, skin burning, toward Tarman.


    SINTARA STALKED AWAY down the beach, away from the fish that she had rightfully brought to shore when the others were in danger of losing it. She hadn¡¯t even had a bite of it. And it was all Thymara¡¯s fault, for not getting out of the way when the dragon entered the water.


    Humans were stupid in a way that Sintara found intolerable. What did the girl expect of her? That she was to be her coddling, enamored pet? That she would endeavor to fill every gap in her gnat¡¯s life? She should take a mate if she wished for that sort of companionship. She did not understand why humans longed for so much intense contact. Were their own thoughts never sufficient for them? Why did they look for others to fulfill their needs instead of simply taking care of themselves?


    Thymara¡¯s unhappiness was like a buzzing mosquito in her ear. Ever since her blood had spattered on Thymara¡¯s face and lips, she¡¯d been aware of the girl in a very uncomfortable way. It wasn¡¯t her fault; she hadn¡¯t intended to share her blood with her, or to create the awareness of each other that would always exist now. And it certainly had not been her decision to accelerate the changes that Thymara was undergoing. She had no desire to create an Elderling, let alone devote the thought and time that molding one required. Let the others contemplate such an old-fashioned pastime. Humans were ridiculously short-lived. Even when a dragon modified one to extend its lifetime several times over, they still lived only a fraction of a dragon¡¯s life. Why bother to create one and become attached to it when it was only going to die soon anyway?


    Now Thymara had gone off on her own, to sulk. Or to grieve. Sometimes the distinction between the two seemed very insignificant to Sintara. There, now, the girl was crying, as if crying were a thing one did to fix something rather than a messy reaction that humans had to anything difficult. Sintara hated sharing Thymara¡¯s sensation of painful tears and dribbling nose and sore throat. She wanted to snap at the girl, but she knew that would only make her wail more. So, with great restraint, she reached out to her gently.

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    Thymara. Please stop this nonsense. It only makes both of us uncomfortable.


    Rejection. That was all she sensed from the girl. Not even a coherent thought, only a futile effort to push the dragon out of her thoughts. How dare she be so rude! As if Sintara had wanted to be aware of her at all!


    The dragon found a sunny spot on the mudbank and stretched out. Stay out of my mind, she warned the girl and resolutely turned her thoughts away from her. But she could not quite quench a small sense of desolation and sorrow.


    Day the 14th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    Shipped this day twenty-five of my birds on the liveship Goldendown. The captain of that vessel bears for you a payment from the Trehaug Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council sufficient for three hundredweight sacks of the yellow peas for pigeon feed.


    Erek,


    I have finally persuaded the Council of the value of a good diet for the birds. I also showed them several of the king pigeons, including two half-grown squabs, and told them that the birds could lay two eggs every sixteen days, and that a good pair frequently laid another set of eggs as soon as the first hatched, so that a steady stream of squabs suitable for the table could be produced by free-ranging birds. They seemed very amenable to the idea.


    Of Meldar and Finbok, I can tell you only what I have heard from Cassarick. The woman was very eager to depart with the expedition and signed on as a contracted member of the crew. Meldar appears to have simply gone along. The ship did not take any message birds with it, a foolish oversight in my opinion. Until they return or do not return, we shall not know what has become of them. I am sorry I do not have more details for the families.


    Detozi


    CHAPTER FOUR


    BLUE INK, BLACK RAIN


    Alise sat stiffly at the galley table. Outside the windows, evening was venturing toward night. She was attired modestly, if exotically, in a long robe of soft fabric. She could not, by touch, tell what it had been made from. Bellin ghosted through the room in her quiet, private way. She raised her dark brows in surprised approval, gave her a conspiratorial smile that made Alise blush, and continued on her way. Alise dipped her head and smiled.


    Bellin had become a friend, of a type she¡¯d never had before. Their conversations were brief but cogent. Once, she had come upon Alise leaning on the railing, looking at the night sky. She¡¯d paused by her and said, ¡°We of the Rain Wilds do not have long lives. We have to seize our opportunities, or we have to recognize we cannot have them, and let them go by and seek out others. But a Rain Wild man cannot wait forever, unless he is willing to let his life go by him.¡±


    She had not waited for a response from Alise. Bellin seemed to know when Alise needed time to think over what she had said. But tonight, her smile hinted that Alise was closer to a decision that she approved of. Alise took a breath and sighed it out. Was she?


    Leftrin had produced the silky, clinging gown after her mishap in the river had left her skin so enflamed that she could scarcely bear the touch of cloth against it. Even two days after her dip in the river, she was still sore. The robe was of Elderling make; of that she was certain. It was a scintillant copper and reminded her more of a fine mesh than a woven garment. It whispered lightly against her skin when she moved, as if it would divulge the secrets of whatever Elderling princess had worn it in days long past remembering. It soothed the rash wherever it touched her skin. She had been astonished to discover that a simple river captain could possess such a treasure.


    ¡°Trade goods,¡± Leftrin had said dismissively. ¡°I¡¯d like you to keep it,¡± he added gruffly, as if he did not know how to offer a gift. He¡¯d blushed darkly at her effusive thanks, his skin reddening so that the scaling on his upper cheeks and along his brow stood out like silver mail. At one time, such a sight might have repulsed her. Now she had felt an erotic thrill as she imagined tracing that scaling with her fingertips. She had turned from him, heart thumping.


    She smoothed the sleek copper fabric over her thighs. This was her second day of wearing it. It felt both cool and warm to her, soothing the myriad tiny blisters that her river immersion had inflicted on her skin. She knew the garment clung to her more closely than was seemly. Even staid Swarge had given her an admiring glance as she passed him on the deck. It had made her feel girlish and giddy. She was almost relieved that Sedric still kept to his bed. She was certain he would not approve of her wearing it.


    The door banged as Leftrin came in from the deck. ¡°Still writing? You amaze me, woman! I can¡¯t hold a pen in my paw for more than half a dozen lines before feeling a cramp. What are you recording there?¡±

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    ¡°Oh, what a story! I¡¯ve seen all the notes you take and the sketches you make of the river. You¡¯re as much a documentarian as I am. As for what I¡¯m writing, I¡¯m filling in the detail on a conversation that I had with Ranculos last night. Without Sedric to help me, I¡¯m forced to take my own notes as I go along and then fill in afterward. Finally, finally, the dragons have begun to share some of their memories with me. Not many, and some are disjointed, but every bit of information is useful. It all adds up to a very exciting whole.¡± She patted her leather-bound journal. It and her portfolio case had been new and gleaming when she left Bingtown. Now both looked battered and scarred, the leather darkening with scuffs. She smiled. They looked like an adventurer¡¯s companions rather than the diary of a dotty matron.


    ¡°So, read me a bit of what you¡¯ve written, then,¡± he requested. He moved efficiently about the small galley as he spoke. Lifting the heavy pot off the small cookstove, he poured himself a cup of thick coffee before taking a seat across from her.


    She suddenly felt as shy as a child. She did not want to read her scholarly embellished treatise aloud. She feared it would sound ponderous and vain. ¡°Let me summarize it,¡± she offered hastily. ¡°Ranculos was speaking of the blisters on my hands and face. He told me that if they were scales, I would be truly lovely. I asked if that was because it would be more like dragon skin, and he told me ¡®Of course. For nothing can be lovelier than dragon skin.¡¯ And then he told me, well, he implied, that the more a human was around dragons, the greater the chance that she or he might begin the changes to become an Elderling. He hinted that in ancient times, a dragon could choose to hasten those changes for a worthy human. He did not say how. But from his words, I deduced that there were ordinary humans as well as Elderlings inhabiting the ancient cities. He admitted this was so, but said that humans had their own quarters on the outskirts of the city. Some of the farmers and tradesmen lived across the river, away from both dragons and Elderlings.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s important to know?¡± he asked.


    She smiled. ¡°Every small fact I gather is important, Captain.¡±


    He tapped her thick portfolio. ¡°And what¡¯s this, then? I see you write in your journal all the time, but this you just seem to lug about.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s my treasure, sir! It¡¯s all my gleaned knowledge from my years of study. I¡¯ve been very fortunate to have had access to a number of rare scrolls, tapestries, and even maps from the Elderling era.¡± She laughed as she made her announcement, fearful of sounding self-aggrandizing.


    Leftrin raised his bushy eyebrows. It was ridiculously endearing. ¡°And you¡¯ve brought them all with you, in there?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course not! Many are too fragile, and all are too valuable to subject them to travel. No, these are only my copies and translations. And my notes, of course. My conjectures on what missing parts might have said, my tentative translations of unknown characters. All of that.¡± She patted the bulging leather case affectionately.


    ¡°May I see?¡±


    She was surprised he¡¯d ask. ¡°Of course. Though I wonder if you¡¯ll be able to read my chicken-scratch writing.¡± She unbuckled the wide leather straps from the sturdy brass buckles and opened the portfolio. As always, it gave her a small thrill of pleasure to open it and see the thick stack of creamy pages. Leftrin leaned over her shoulder, looking curiously as she turned over leaf after leaf of transcription. His warm breath near her ear was a shivery distraction, one she treasured.


    Here was her painstaking copy of the Trehaug Level Seven scroll. She had traced each Elderling character meticulously, and reproduced, as well as she was able, the mysterious spidery drawings that had framed it. The next sheet, on excellent paper and in good black ink, was her copy of the Klimer translations of six Elderling scrolls. In red ink she had marked her own additions and corrections. In deep blue she had inserted notes and references to other scrolls.


    ¡°It¡¯s very detailed,¡± her captain exclaimed with an awe that warmed her.


    ¡°It is the work of years,¡± she replied demurely. She turned a handful of pages to reveal her copy of an Elderling wall hanging. Decorative leaves, shells, and fish framed an abstract work done in blues and greens. ¡°This one, well, no one quite understands. Perhaps it was damaged or is unfinished in some way.¡±


    His brows arched again. ¡°Well, it seems clear enough to me. It¡¯s an anchorage chart for a river mouth.¡± He touched it carefully, tracing it with a scaled forefinger. ¡°See, here¡¯s the best channel. It has different blues to show high and low tidelines. And this black might be the channel for deep-hulled ships. Or an indication of a strong current or tide rip.¡±

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    She peered down at it, and then looked up at him in surprise. ¡°Yes, I see it now. Do you recognize this place?¡± Excitement coursed through her.


    ¡°No. It¡¯s nowhere I¡¯ve ever been. But it¡¯s a river chart, one that focuses all on water and ignores land details. On that, I¡¯d wager.¡±


    ¡°Will you sit with me and explain it?¡± Alise invited him. ¡°What might these wavy lines here be?¡±


    He shook his head regretfully. ¡°Not now, I¡¯m afraid. I only came in for a quick cup of coffee and to be out of the wind and rain for a time. It¡¯s getting dark outside, but the dragons show no signs of settling for the night. I¡¯d best be out there. Can¡¯t have too many eyes on the river if you must run at night.¡±


    ¡°Do you still fear white water then?¡±


    Leftrin scratched his beard, then shook his head. ¡°I think the danger has passed. It¡¯s hard to say. The rain is dirty and smells sooty. It¡¯s black when it hits the deck. So, somewhere, something is happening. I¡¯ve only seen a true white flood happen twice in my life, and each time it was only a day or so after the quake. It¡¯s common enough to have the acid in the river vary. But my feeling is that if we were going to be hit with white water, it would have happened by now.¡±


    ¡°Well. That¡¯s a relief then.¡± She groped for something more to say, words that would keep him in the galley, talking to her. But she knew he had his work, and she closed her mouth on such silliness.


    ¡°I¡¯d best be about my work,¡± he said reluctantly, and with a girlish lurch of her heart, she was abruptly certain that he, too, wished he could stay. Such knowledge made it easier to let him go.


    ¡°Yes. Tarman needs you.¡±


    ¡°Well, some days I¡¯m not sure Tarman needs any of us. But I¡¯d best get out there and put my eyes on the river.¡± He paused and daringly added, ¡°Though I¡¯d just as soon be keeping them on you.¡±


    She ducked her head, flustered by his compliment, and he laughed. Then he was out of the door, and the river wind banged it shut behind him. She sighed, and then smiled at how foolish she had become about him.


    She went to dip her pen, then decided she needed the blue ink if she were to make a note on the page of Leftrin¡¯s interpretation. Yes, she decided, she wanted blue, and she¡¯d credit him for the theory as well. It pleased her to think that scores of years hence, scholars would read his name and know that a common river captain had deduced what had eluded others. She found the small ink bottle, uncorked it, and dipped her pen. It came up dry.


    She held the bottle to the light. Had she written that much on her journey? She supposed she had. She¡¯d seen so much that had given her ideas or made her revise old thoughts. She thought of adding water to the pigment that remained and scowled. No. That would be her last resort. Sedric, she recalled, had plenty of ink in his portable desk. And she hadn¡¯t visited him since morning. It was as good an excuse to check on him as any.


    SEDRIC CAME AWAKE, not suddenly, but as if he were surfacing from a deep dive into black water. Sleep sleeked away from his mind like water draining from his hair and skin. He opened his eyes to the familiar dimness of his cabin. But it was different. The air was slightly cooler and fresher. Someone had recently opened the door. And entered.


    He became aware of a figure hunched on the deck by his pallet. He heard the stealthy pawing of thieving hands on his wardrobe chest. Moving by tiny increments, he shifted so he could peer over the edge of his bed. The compartment was dim. Outside the light was fading and he had not lit a lamp. The only illumination came from the small ¡°windows¡± that also ventilated his room.


    Yet the creature on the floor beside his bed gleamed a warm copper and seemed to cast back light that had not struck it. As he watched, it shifted and brilliance ran over a scaled back. She scrabbled at the wardrobe chest, seeking for the hidden drawer that held the vials of her stolen blood.


    Terror flooded him and he nearly wet himself. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± he cried aloud. ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry. I did not know what you were. Please. Please, just let me be. Let go of my mind. Please.¡±


    ¡°Sedric?¡± The copper dragon reared up and abruptly took Alise¡¯s shape. ¡°Sedric! Are you all right? Do you have a fever or are you dreaming?¡± She put a warm hand on his damp brow. He pulled back from her touch convulsively. It was Alise. It was only Alise.


    ¡°Why are you wearing a dragon¡¯s skin? And why are you rummaging through my possessions?¡± Shock made him both indignant and accusing.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­a dragon¡¯s skin? Oh, no, it¡¯s a robe. Captain Leftrin loaned it to me. It¡¯s of Elderling make and completely lovely. And it doesn¡¯t irritate my skin. Here. Feel the sleeve.¡± She offered her arm to him.

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    He didn¡¯t try to touch the shimmering fabric. Elderling made. Dragon stuff. ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯ve sneaked into my room to dig through my things,¡± he complained petulantly.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t! I didn¡¯t ¡®sneak¡¯! I tapped on your door and when you didn¡¯t answer, I let myself in. The door wasn¡¯t latched. You were asleep. You¡¯ve looked so weary lately that I didn¡¯t want to wake you. That¡¯s all. The only thing I want from you is some ink, some blue ink. Don¡¯t you keep it in your little lap desk? Ah. Here it is. I¡¯ll take some and leave you in peace.¡±


    ¡°No! Don¡¯t open that! Give it to me!¡±


    She froze in the act of working the catch. Stonily silent, she handed the lap desk to him. He tried not to snatch it from her, but his relief at keeping it out of her clutches was too evident. He swung it onto the bed beside him so he could conceal it with his body. She didn¡¯t say a word as he opened it and slid his hand in to grope for the ink bottles. Fortune favored him. He pulled out a blue one. As he offered it to her, he ventured a halfhearted apology. ¡°I was asleep when you came in. And I am out of sorts.¡±


    ¡°Indeed you are,¡± she replied coolly. ¡°This is all I need from you. Thank you.¡± She snatched it from his hand. As she went out the door, she muttered for him to hear, ¡°Sneaked, indeed!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± he called, but she shut the door on his words.


    The moment she was gone, he rolled from his bed to latch the door tight, then dropped to his knees beside the hidden drawer. ¡°It was just Alise,¡± he said to himself. Yes, but who knew what the copper dragon might have told her? He worked it open clumsily, the drawer jamming, then forced himself to calm as he carefully lifted the flask of the copper dragon¡¯s blood. It was safe. He still had it.


    And she still had him.


    He¡¯d lost count of how many days had passed since he¡¯d tasted the dragon¡¯s blood. His dual awareness came and went like double vision after a blow to the head. He¡¯d be almost himself; morose and despondent, but Sedric. Then that overlay of physical sensation and confused memory would wash through him as her baffled impressions mingled with his thoughts. Sometimes he tried to make sense of the world for her. You are wading through water, not flying. Sometimes the water lifts you almost off your feet, but this is not flying. Your wings are too weak to fly.


    Sometimes he encouraged her. The others are almost out of sight. You have to try to move faster. You can do it. Move to your left, where the water is shallower. See? It¡¯s easier to walk now, isn¡¯t it? That¡¯s a girl. Keep going. I know you¡¯re hungry. Watch for fish. Maybe you could catch a fish and eat it.


    Sometimes he felt vaguely proud of himself for being kind to her. But at other times, he felt his life had become an eternity of caring for a rather stupid child. By dint of effort he could sometimes block most of his awareness of her. But if she felt pain or her hunger grew too strong or if she were frightened, her dim thoughts burst through into his. Even when he could avoid sharing her dull mental processes, he could not escape her constant weariness and hunger. Her desolate Why? echoed through every moment of his day. It did not help that he shared that same question about his own fate. Worse was when she tried to make sense of his thoughts. She did not understand that sometimes he was asleep and dreaming. She broke into his dreams, offering to kill Hest or trying to comfort him with her company. It was all too strange. He was weary, doubly exhausted from his interrupted sleep and by his sharing of her dismal endless struggle.


    Life aboard the barge had become very strange for him. He kept to his compartment as much as he could. Yet there was no solitude for him. Even when the dragon was not intruding into his thoughts, he had too much company. Alise was racked with guilt and could not seem to leave him alone. Every morning, every afternoon, and every evening before she retired, she came to call on him. Her visits were brief and uncomfortable. He didn¡¯t want to hear her chatter enthusiastically about her day, and there was nothing that he dared share with her, yet there was no graceful way to shut her up and send her out of his room.


    The boy was the second worst. Sedric could not understand Davvie¡¯s fascination with him. Why couldn¡¯t he just bring his meal tray and then leave? Instead, the boy watched him avidly, eager to perform the most menial service, even offering to wash his shirts and socks, an offer that made him cringe. Twice he¡¯d been rude to the boy, not because he enjoyed it, but because it was the only way to get the lad to leave. Each time, Davvie had been so obviously crushed by Sedric¡¯s rejection that Sedric had felt like a beast.

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    He turned the vial of dragon blood that he held, watching again how it swirled and gleamed even in the dim cabin. Even when the vial was still in his hand, the red liquid inside it shifted in a slow dance. It held its own light, and red on red, the threads of crimson inside the glass twined and twirled about each other. Temptation or obsession? he asked himself, and had no answer. The blood drew him. He held a king¡¯s ransom in his hand, if he could but get it to Chalced. Yet the possessing of it seemed very important to him now. Did he want to taste it again? He wasn¡¯t sure. He didn¡¯t think he wanted to experience that again. He feared that if he gave in to his reluctant compulsion, he would find himself even more tightly joined to the dragon. Or dragons.


    In late afternoon, when he¡¯d ventured out on the deck for a short breath of cool air, he had heard Mercor calling to the other dragons. He called two of them by name. ¡°Sestican. Ranculos. Stop your quarreling. Save your strength to battle the river. Tomorrow is another day¡¯s journey.¡± He¡¯d stood there, the dragon¡¯s words shimmering through his mind. He¡¯d heard the words, as clear as could be. He tried to remember if he¡¯d heard the dragon¡¯s trumpeting or whuffling that carried the thought, but he couldn¡¯t. The dragons spoke to one another, reasoned with one another, just as men did. He¡¯d felt a whirl of vertigo that combined with his guilt. Heartsick and dizzy, he¡¯d staggered back to his cabin and shut the door tight. ¡°I can¡¯t go on like this. I can¡¯t,¡± he¡¯d said aloud to his tiny space. And almost immediately, he¡¯d felt a worried query from the copper dragon. She sensed his agitation. And was concerned for him.


    No, I¡¯m fine. Go away. Leave me alone! He¡¯d pushed at her and she¡¯d retreated, saddened by his harshness. ¡°I can¡¯t go on like this,¡± he¡¯d repeated, and longed for a day when he had known that no one else shared his thoughts. He tipped the vial of blood again. If he drank it all, would it kill him?


    If he killed the dragon, would his mind be his own private territory again?


    There was a heavy knock at his door. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted, terror and anger making his voice louder than he¡¯d intended. There was no time to hide the blood properly. He wrapped it in a sweaty shirt and stuffed it under his blanket. ¡°Who is it?¡± he called belatedly.


    ¡°It¡¯s Carson. I¡¯d like a word with you, please.¡±


    Carson. He was the other person who seemed unable to leave Sedric alone. The hunters were gone during the day, doing what they were paid to do. But if Sedric arose early or ventured into the galley in the evening, Carson always seemed to appear. Twice he¡¯d come to Sedric¡¯s room when Davvie was there, to remind the boy that he wasn¡¯t to bother Sedric. Each time, the boy had left, but not graciously. And each time, Carson had lingered. He¡¯d tried to engage Sedric in conversation, asking him what it was like to live in a civilized place like Bingtown and if he¡¯d ever traveled to other cities. Sedric had answered each of his queries briefly, but Carson hadn¡¯t seemed to realize he was being brusque. The hunter continued to treat him with gentle courtesy that was very at odds with the man¡¯s rough clothing and harsh vocation.


    The last time he had come and shooed the boy away, Carson had taken the boy¡¯s seat on the end of Sedric¡¯s trunk and proceeded to tell him about himself. He lived a lonely life. No wife, no children, just a man on his own, taking care of himself and living as he pleased. He¡¯d taken on Davvie, his nephew, because he foresaw the same sort of life for him, if Sedric took his drift. Sedric hadn¡¯t. He¡¯d finished eating and then made a great show of yawning.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re still tired from being ill. I¡¯d hoped you were feeling better by now,¡± Carson had commented. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to rest.¡± Then, with the precision of a man accustomed to caring for himself, Carson had tidied Sedric¡¯s supper things back onto the tray and whisked them away. As he folded up the square of cotton that passed for a napkin on the barge, he¡¯d looked at Sedric and given him an odd smile. ¡°Sit still,¡± he¡¯d warned him and then, with the corner of the napkin, he¡¯d dabbed something off the edge of Sedric¡¯s mouth. ¡°It¡¯s plain you¡¯re not used to having a bit of a beard. They take caring for. I think you should go back to shaving, myself.¡± He¡¯d paused and glanced meaningfully around the untidy room. ¡°And bathing. And caring for your things. I know you¡¯re not happy to be here. I don¡¯t blame you. But that doesn¡¯t mean you should stop being who you are.¡±


    Then he¡¯d departed, leaving Sedric feeling both shocked and affronted. He¡¯d found his small mirror and leaned closer to his candle to inspect his face. Yes. There had been soup at the corner of his mouth, caught in the short whiskers that had sprouted there. It had been some days since he¡¯d shaved, or washed thoroughly. He studied himself in the mirror, noting that he looked haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes above his unshaven cheeks. His hair was lank and uncombed. The mere thought of going to the galley to heat some water and shave and wash wearied him. How shocked Hest would be to see him in such a state!

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    But somehow that thought had not spurred him to clean himself up, but to sit back on his bed and stare up into the darkness. It didn¡¯t matter what Hest would think if he saw him like this, sweaty and unshaven, in a room littered with laundry. It was becoming more and more unlikely that Hest would ever see him again at all. And that was something that Hest had caused, with his stupid vengeance in sending him off to nursemaid Alise. Did Hest even think of him? Wonder what had delayed their return? He doubted it.


    He had begun to doubt many things about Hest.


    He¡¯d crawled onto his pallet, a bed more fit for a dog than a man, and slept the rest of the day away.


    Another bang on his door jerked his mind back to the present. ¡°Sedric? Are you all right? Answer, or I¡¯m coming in.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Sedric took the one step he needed to cross the room and flipped the hook on the door clear. ¡°You may come in, if you must.¡±


    Either the man didn¡¯t hear the lack of a welcome in his voice or he ignored it. Carson opened the door and looked about the dim cabin. ¡°Seems to me that light and air might make you feel better than lying about in the close dark,¡± he observed.


    ¡°Neither light nor air will cure what ails me,¡± Sedric muttered. He glanced at the tall, bearded hunter and then away. Carson seemed to fill the small cabin with his presence. He had a broad forehead that sheltered wide dark eyes beneath heavy brows. His close-cropped beard was the same ginger as his rough hair. His cheeks were wind reddened, and his lips were ruddy and well-defined. He seemed to feel Sedric appraising him, for he smoothed his hair self-consciously.


    ¡°Did you need something?¡± Sedric asked. The words came out more abrupt than he intended. The friendliness in Carson¡¯s eyes suddenly became more guarded.


    ¡°Actually, yes, yes I do.¡± He shut the door behind him, dimming the room again, cast about for something to sit down on, and perched, uninvited, on the end of the trunk. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll say this bluntly and then be out of your way. I think you¡¯ll understand; well, I¡¯ll make you understand, one way or another. Davvie is just a boy. I won¡¯t have him hurt, and I won¡¯t have him used. His dad and I were like brothers, and I could see the way Davvie was going a long time before his mother did. If she does even now, which I doubt.¡± The man gave a short bark of laughter and glanced over at Sedric as if expecting a response. When he said nothing, Carson looked back down at his big hands. He rubbed them together as if his knuckles pained him. ¡°So, you take my drift?¡± he asked Sedric.


    ¡°You¡¯re like a father to Davvie?¡± Sedric hazarded.


    Carson barked another laugh at that. ¡°As much as I¡¯m ever likely to be a father to anyone!¡± he declared, and again, he looked at Sedric as if expecting some sort of response. Sedric just looked back at him.


    ¡°I see,¡± the hunter said, and his voice went softer and more serious. ¡°I understand. It goes no further, I promise you that. I¡¯ll speak my piece plain and then be gone. Davvie¡¯s just a youngster. You¡¯re probably the handsomest man he¡¯s ever seen, and the boy is infatuated. I¡¯ve tried to make him see that he¡¯s much too young and that you¡¯re way above his social class. But puppy love can blind a boy. I¡¯ll be doing my best to keep him clear of you, and I¡¯d appreciate it if you kept him at a distance. Once he realizes that there¡¯s nothing here for him, he¡¯ll get over it quick enough. Might even hate you a bit, but you know how that is. But if you mock him, or belittle him to the other men aboard, I¡¯ll take issue with you.¡±


    Sedric stared at him, his face like stone. His mind raced, filling in the meaning behind his words.


    Carson met Sedric¡¯s eyes flatly. ¡°And if I¡¯ve misjudged you, and you¡¯re the kind who would take advantage of a boy, I¡¯ll come after you. Do you understand me?¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Sedric replied. Carson¡¯s meaning finally penetrated to his mind, and he was torn between shock and embarrassment. His cheeks burned; he was glad of the dimness of the room. The hunter¡¯s eyes were still fixed on his. He looked aside. ¡°What you said about belittling the boy to the crew. I would never do that. I ask the same of you. As for Davvie¡¯s¡­infatuation, well.¡± He swallowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t even see it. Even if I had, I wouldn¡¯t take advantage of it. He¡¯s so young. Almost a child still.¡±


    Carson was nodding. A sad smile edged his mouth. ¡°I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t read you wrong. You didn¡¯t look the type to take advantage of a youngster, but you never know. Especially a boy like Davvie who seems to put himself in harm¡¯s way. A few months ago, in Trehaug, he read a young man the wrong way and said the wrong thing. And just for the offer, the fellow hit him twice in the face before the boy could even stand up. And that left me no choice but to get involved, and I¡¯ve a temper. I¡¯m afraid that we won¡¯t be welcome back in that tavern for a long time. It¡¯s one reason I signed us up for this expedition. I thought to get him away from town and temptation for a few months. Let him grow a bit of discretion and self-control. Thought it might keep him out of trouble, but as soon as he set eyes on you, he was gone. And who could blame him? Well¡­¡± He stood up abruptly. ¡°I¡¯ll be going now. The boy won¡¯t be bringing your meals anymore. I thought that was a bad idea from the start, but it was hard to give a reason why he shouldn¡¯t. Now I¡¯ll tell Leftrin that I need him up earlier and at my side if we¡¯re to keep the dragons fed. I¡¯ll be taking him out of here earlier than usual. You may have to fetch your own grub. Or maybe Alise will bring it to you.¡± He turned and put his hand on the door. ¡°You work for her husband, right? That¡¯s what she told us at dinner the first night I met her. That usually you go everywhere he does, and she can¡¯t imagine why he sent you off with her, or how he¡¯s managing without you. She feels real bad about that, you know? That you¡¯re here and so unhappy about it.¡±

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    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°But my guess is that there¡¯s a lot she doesn¡¯t know, and another reason that you¡¯re unhappy. Am I right?¡±


    Sedric couldn¡¯t quite get his breath. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s any of your concern.¡±


    Carson risked a glance over his shoulder. ¡°Maybe not. But I¡¯ve known Leftrin a long, long time. Never seen him gone on a woman like he is on Alise. And she looks pretty gone to me, too. Seems to me that if her husband has been able to find a bit of joy in his life, maybe she deserves the same. And maybe Leftrin does, too. They might find that, if she felt free to look for it.¡±


    He lifted the catch and began to ease the door open. Sedric found his voice. ¡°Are you going to tell her?¡±


    The big man didn¡¯t reply at first. He remained with the door ajar, staring out. Evening was deepening toward night. Finally he shook his bushy head. ¡°No,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°It¡¯s not my place. But I think you should.¡± He moved like a large cat as he slipped out of the door and shut it firmly behind him, leaving Sedric alone with his thoughts.


    THEY HAD TRAVELED longer than usual that day, through a misty, dirty rain that made her skin gritty and itchy. For the latter half of the day, the banks of the river had been unwelcoming, thick with a prickly vine. The upper reaches of the dangling lianas, held up to the sunlight by the stretching tree branches, had been thick with scarlet fruit. The incessant rain jeweled the leaves and fruit and freckled the river¡¯s face. Harrikin had pulled his boat in to shore to try to harvest some of the fruit but had got only scratches and mud for his efforts. Thymara hadn¡¯t even attempted it. She knew from experience that the only way to win that fruit was to come at it from above, climbing down to it. Even then, it was a scratchy, precarious business. She decided that the time it would take her to find a pathway to the tops of the trees would put her and Rapskal far behind the other boats. ¡°Perhaps tonight, when we stop,¡± she suggested to him in response to his longing glances at the dangling orbs.


    But as the light faded from the sky and the shores continued to be inhospitable, she resigned herself to a night aboard the Tarman, with hard bread and a bit of salt fish as her only guaranteed meal. The dragons with their scaled skin could push close to the base of the trees and spend a drier but uncomfortable night if they must. She and the other keepers did not have that option. Her latest experience had proven that to her. The scaling on her skin might be increasing, but it was not the mail the dragons wore. Mercor¡¯s teeth had left their marks despite his efforts to be gentle. It had been embarrassing to have Sylve see how scaled she had become as the girl helped her dress the scratches his fangs had left on her and the large scrape on her left arm. Most of her injuries had been superficial, but one score at the top of her back was still sore and hot to the touch. It ached and she longed to pull her boat in to shore and rest for the night. But the dragons plainly hoped to find a better landing, for they continued their migration, and the keepers had no choice but to follow.


    The dragons were darker silhouettes against the gleaming water when she and Rapskal caught up with them that night. They were scattered on a long broad wash of silty mud that curved out into the river. The sandbar was a relatively young one, bereft of trees. A few bushes and scrolls of grass banks grew down its spine. It offered a plentiful supply of firewood in the form of an immense beached log and a tangle of lesser driftwood banked against it. It would do.


    A hard push with her paddle drove the nose of her boat onto the muddy shore. Rapskal shipped his paddle and jumped out to seize the painter and drag the boat farther ashore. With a groan, Thymara stored her own paddle and unfolded herself stiffly. The constant paddling had strengthened her and built her endurance, but she was still weary and aching at the end of each day.


    Rapskal seemed almost unscathed by the extralong exertion. ¡°Time to get a fire going,¡± he announced cheerily. ¡°And dry off. I hope the hunters got some meat. I¡¯m awful sick of fish.¡±


    ¡°Meat would be good,¡± she agreed. ¡°And a good fire.¡± All around her, the other keepers were pulling their boats ashore and climbing wearily out.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope,¡± he replied, and without a backward glance he scampered off into the darkness.


    She sighed as she watched him go. His unfailing optimism and energy wearied her almost as much as they cheered her. With a sigh of annoyance, she busied herself with tidying Rapskal¡¯s scattered gear from the bottom of the boat. She arranged her own pack so that her blanket and eating gear were on top and then followed him. A fire was being constructed in the lee of the big log. The log would provide fuel as well as trap and reflect the heat. Small flames were already starting to blossom. Rapskal excelled at setting fires and never seemed to tire of it. His fire-starting kit was always in a small pouch at his throat. The endless misting rain sizzled as it met the reaching flames.

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    ¡°Tired?¡± Tats¡¯s voice came from the darkness to her left.


    ¡°Beyond tired,¡± she replied. ¡°Will this journey never be over? I¡¯ve forgotten what it is like to be in one place for more than a night or two.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s worse than that. Once we get wherever we¡¯re going with the dragons, eventually we¡¯ll have to make the trip back downriver.¡±


    She was still for a moment. ¡°You¡¯d leave your dragon?¡± she asked him quietly. She had still not made amends with Sintara, still ached when she thought of the dragon. She cared for the dragon as she always had, grooming her and finding extra food for her, but they spoke little now. It made the contrast sharper when she saw the fondness that some of the other keepers shared with their dragons. Tats and Fente were close. Or she had thought they were.


    He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It depends, I suppose. Sometimes she seems to need me, to even be fond of me. Other times, well¡ª¡±


    Even as she shrugged away from his hands, her body registered how good it felt to have his warm touch on her sore muscles. He stepped back from her, acknowledging her rebuke. Like a rising flood of warm water, the image of Greft¡¯s and Jerd¡¯s tangled bodies washed through her. For a blink of time, she thought of turning to face him, dared to imagine running her hands down his warm, bare back. But the next image that jolted her was the thought of his hands sliding over her scaled skin. Like petting a warm lizard, she mocked herself, and folded her lips tightly to keep from crying out at the unfairness of it. Greft and Jerd might be able to indulge in the forbidden, but perhaps it was only because each had found a fellow outcast as a partner. Neither would be repelled by how the Rain Wilds had touched the other. That would not be the case with someone like Tats. He came from the Tattooed folk; he had not been born here. His skin was as smooth as a Bingtown girl¡¯s, unmarked by wattles or scaling. Unlike her own.


    ¡°A long day,¡± Tats said into her silence.


    His tentative tone wondered if he had angered her by taking a liberty. She swallowed her fury at fate and evened her voice. ¡°A long day, and I¡¯m still sore from being ¡®rescued¡¯ by Mercor. I¡¯ll be glad of a warm fire and a bit of hot food tonight.¡±


    As if in answer, the fire suddenly climbed up the heaped driftwood. The glowing light outlined her friends gathering around the fire. Slight Sylve was there, standing next to narrow Harrikin. They were laughing, for long-limbed Warken was doing a frenzied dance to shake a shower of sparks from his wild hair and worn shirt.


    Boxter and Kase were twin blocks of darkness, the cousins together as always. Lecter stalked past them, the spines on his neck and back clearly limned against the fire¡¯s light. He¡¯d had to cut the neck of his shirt to allow for their growth. That sight somehow reassured her. Those are my friends, she thought and smiled. They were just as marked as she was. Then she caught a glimpse of Jerd¡¯s seated profile. She was perched on a piece of driftwood, and Greft stood behind her, powerful and protective. As Thymara watched, Jerd leaned back so that the top of her head touched his thigh as she spoke up to him. Greft bent to answer her and for an instant they formed a closed shape, the two of them becoming a single entity that shut out the rest of the world.


    Jealousy cut her. It was not that she wanted Greft, merely that she wanted what they had simply taken for themselves. Jerd laughed aloud and Greft¡¯s shoulders moved in a way that echoed her amusement. The others either ignored or accepted their closeness. Was she the only one who still felt a twinge of outrage and unease at what they were proclaiming?


    Without thinking about it, she was following Tats toward the fire. ¡°What do you make of Jerd and Greft?¡± she asked him and then was shocked she had spoken the words aloud. She regretted the question instantly, for when Tats turned his head to glance back at her, he was plainly surprised by her query.


    ¡°Jerd and Greft?¡± he said.


    ¡°They¡¯re sleeping together. Mating.¡± She heard the bluntness of her own words, the anger behind them. ¡°She¡¯s with Greft every chance she gets.¡±


    ¡°For now,¡± Tats said as he dismissed her comment. And he seemed to be replying to something else as he went on, ¡°Jerd will go with anyone. Greft will discover that soon enough. Or perhaps he knows and doesn¡¯t care. I could well imagine him taking what he could get, while he could get it, and planning to have something better later.¡± The meaningful look he gave her as he added those last words confused her and made her uncomfortable. Her thoughts hopped like a flea through his words. What was he saying? She tried to lighten the tone of the conversation. ¡°Jerd will go with anyone? Even you?¡± She started to laugh as she teased her old friend, but the smile froze on her lips as Tats hunched his shoulders and turned slightly away from her.

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    ¡°Me? Perhaps,¡± he said roughly. ¡°Is that so unthinkable?¡±


    She suddenly recalled the night that Greft¡¯s words had driven Tats from the fire, and how Jerd had risen and left shortly after that. And the next day, the two had shared a boat, and for several days after that¡­Understanding suddenly stilled her. Tats spreading his blankets near Jerd¡¯s, sitting by her during the evening meals. How could she not have seen what it meant? Jealousy flared in her, but before its heat could scorch her heart, ice chilled and broke it. What a fool she was! Of course that would be how it was, probably from the very first night they¡¯d left Trehaug. Jerd, Greft, Tats, all of them had discarded the rules. Only stiff, stupid Thymara had assumed they still applied.


    ¡°Me, too!¡± Rapskal announced, materializing from the dark to make an unwelcome addition to their conversation.


    ¡°You too what?¡± Tats asked him unwillingly.


    Rapskal looked at him as if he were stupid. ¡°Me with Jerd. Before you, I was. Though she didn¡¯t like much how I did it. She said it wasn¡¯t funny and when I laughed at how messy it was, she said that only proved I was a boy and not a man. ¡®Never with you again!¡¯ she told me after that one time. ¡®I don¡¯t care,¡¯ I told her. And I don¡¯t. Why do that with someone who takes it so seriously? I think it would be more fun with someone like you, Thymara. You can take a joke. I mean, look at us. We get along. You never take offense just because a fellow has a sense of humor.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Rapskal!¡± she snarled at him, proving him very wrong. She stormed off into the darkness, leaving them both gawking after her. Behind her, she heard Tats berating Rapskal and his protests of innocence. Rapskal? Even Rapskal? Hot tears squeezed from her eyes and left salt tracks on her lightly scaled cheeks. Her face burned. Was she blushing? Could she still blush or was it the flush of anger?


    She¡¯d been blind to all of it. Blind and stupid and trusting, simple as a child. It was so mortifying. She¡¯d had some doltish idea that because she secretly cared for Tats, he felt the same for her. She¡¯d known she was condemned by what she was to leading a life bereft of human passion. Had she believed that he would deny himself simply because he knew he couldn¡¯t have her? Idiot.


    And Rapskal? She was suddenly outraged in so many ways she almost choked. How could Jerd do that with simple, unassuming Rapskal? Somehow what she had led him to do spoiled him for Thymara. His sassy optimism and endless good nature seemed something else now. She thought suddenly of how he slept beside her each night, sometimes warm against her back. She had thought it a childish affection. Now a squeak of indignation escaped her. What had he been dreaming on those nights? What did the others think of their closeness? Did they imagine that she and Rapskal were tangling their bodies at night as Jerd and Greft did?


    Did Tats think such a thing of her?


    A fresh wave of outrage flooded her. She looked at the fire and knew, despite her wet clothes and empty belly, she would not join her fellows there tonight. Nor would she allow Rapskal to sleep anywhere near her. She whirled about suddenly and went back to her beached boat. She¡¯d take her blanket and sleep near Sintara tonight. Not that she cared about the stupid dragon anymore, but even as uncaring as Sintara was, she was better than her so-called friends. At least she made her lack of feelings about Thymara obvious.


    In her absence, Tarman had been driven up onto the shore beside the beached boats. The barge watched her with sympathetic eyes as she angrily pulled her blanket from her pack and took out her stored supply of dried meat. She didn¡¯t want to share a meal with anyone tonight. The temptation of hot food suddenly threatened her resolution. She glanced at Tarman and wondered if Leftrin would allow her aboard to warm herself at the galley stove and perhaps have a hot cup of tea? She ventured closer, looking up at the ship. The captain was strict in maintaining his authority on his deck. None of the keepers boarded without an express invitation. Perhaps she might obtain one from Alise? She hadn¡¯t had much chance for conversation with her since their mishap.


    As the thought crossed her mind, she saw the silhouette of a man lower himself over the bow railing and climb awkwardly down the ship¡¯s ladder to the shore. He was thin and did not move like any of the crew members she knew. He stumbled as he stepped away from the ladder and swore softly. She knew him.


    ¡°Sedric!¡± she exclaimed in surprise. ¡°I had heard you were very ill. I¡¯m surprised to see you. Are you better now?¡± Privately she thought that a silly question. The man looked terrible, gaunt and ravaged. His lovely clothes hung on him, and she could smell that he had not washed himself.

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    The man turned toward her with a shuffling step very different from the grace she recalled. He looked irritated to see her, but replied anyway. ¡°Better? No, Thymara, not better. But soon perhaps I shall be.¡± His voice sounded thick as if his throat were very dry. She wondered if he were slightly drunk, then rebuked herself for thinking such a thing. He had been very ill; that was all.


    As he turned away from her without any farewell, she saw that he carried a heavy wooden case. That burden was what had made him awkward on the ladder. He walked leaning to one side as if it were almost too heavy for him. She nearly ran after him to offer to help him with it, but she stopped herself. Surely a man would be humiliated for her to see how weakened he was. Best to leave him alone and let him manage.


    She set off to find Sintara among the dragons. Her bedroll bounced on her back as she walked. After three steps, she un-slung it and carried it clutched to her chest. The rasp on her arm was scabbed over and healing fast, but the long scratch down the top half of her spine didn¡¯t seem to be healing at all. Elsewhere, her scales had mostly protected her from Mercor¡¯s teeth, but there they had given way. Sylve had first noticed it when she insisted that Thymara take off her shirt so that she could bandage her arm. ¡°What is this?¡± the girl had asked her.


    ¡°What is what?¡± Thymara had asked her, shivering still.


    ¡°This,¡± Sylve said and touched a spot between her shoulder blades. The touch hurt, as if she had prodded an abscess. ¡°It¡¯s like you cut it and it closed. When did this happen?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to let it drain,¡± Sylve said, and before Thymara could forbid it, the girl had flicked away the edge of a scab. She¡¯d felt warm liquid trickle down her back and turned to see Sylve¡¯s expression of distaste as she dabbed at it. But the scaled girl had spoken no word of disgust as she prodded it and then poured clean water over it and bandaged it. It should have begun to heal. But the cut festered and was swollen and sore and sometimes oozing in the morning. She had nothing to treat it with, and no desire to expose her lizard body to anyone¡¯s scrutiny. It would heal, she told herself stubbornly. She always healed. It was just taking longer this time. And hurting more.


    The hunters had not fared well today. She smelled no meat, only river fish cooking on the fire. Once, she had enjoyed fish and regarded it as a rare treat. Now, even as hungry as she felt, she decided her dry meat would be enough.


    The dragons were disappointed, too. Several of the big males were roaming the mud spit in a disgruntled way. Ranculos waded in the shallows, as if he might be able to discover more food there. On plentiful nights, the dragons often gathered around the fire with their keepers. They all enjoyed the warmth. But tonight the beasts were hungry and more scattered.


    It would have been hard to find Sintara in the dark if Thymara had used only her eyes. But all she had to do was grope along the unwelcome connection she felt to the queen dragon. Sintara was at the downriver spike of the sandbar, staring back the way they had come.


    And she wasn¡¯t alone. As Thymara approached, she could hear Alise¡¯s voice raised in gentle reproach. ¡°You sent her right into that, deliberately, with no preparation. Of course it was upsetting to her. I wouldn¡¯t want to stumble onto such a scene without warning. She has a sensitive nature, Sintara. I think you should have more care for her feelings.¡±


    ¡°She can ill afford to be ¡®sensitive,¡¯¡± the dragon replied scathingly.


    Thymara halted, straining to hear what else they might say about her. She was becoming quite an accomplished eavesdropper, she thought sourly.


    ¡°She is already tough and strong.¡± Alise boldly contradicted the dragon. ¡°Coarsening her spirit will not make her a better person. Only a harsher one. I think it would be a shame for that to happen to her.¡±


    ¡°It would be more of a shame for her to continue as she is¡ªmeek, bound by rules that she did not make, always holding in her words. Among dragons and Elderlings, we knew that every female is a queen, free to make her own choices and follow her own wishes. This is something Thymara must learn if she is to go on serving me.¡±


    ¡°Serving you!¡± Alise spluttered. ¡°Is that how you see it? That she is your servant?¡±


    She had come a long way, Thymara thought, from those days when her every word to Sintara was framed as a flowery compliment. Now it seemed to her that Alise spoke to the dragon almost woman to woman. She wondered if she had changed that much. Or perhaps it was Sintara, confident enough of them to no longer bother exerting her glamour. Thymara grinned to hear Alise defend her, but an instant later, the woman paid the price.

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    ¡°Of course she serves me. Or at least she has the potential to do so, if she rises to have the spirit of a queen. Of what use to me is a servant who grovels to other humans? How can she demand the best for me if she is always deferring to them? At one time, Alise, I thought that you, too, might serve me in such a way. But of late, you disappoint me even more severely than Thymara. And I do not see you trying to change. Perhaps you are too old and incapable of it.¡±


    Hurt could be expressed as silence. Thymara suddenly knew that, for she heard Alise¡¯s pain and it drove her out of the darkness. Dropping all pretense that she had not overheard their conversation, she sprang to the older woman¡¯s defense. ¡°I do not know why either one of us would wish to serve such an arrogant, ungrateful creature as you!¡± she exclaimed as she stepped between them.


    ¡°Ah. Good evening, little sneak. Did you enjoy your time lurking in darkness, listening to us?¡± Aggression puffed out the dragon¡¯s chest, and she seemed almost luminous in her anger. A silvery blue glow surrounded her, setting off the growing rows of fringe on her neck. The dragon¡¯s light struck coppery ripples from the gown Alise wore. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, the gleaming copper woman with shining red hair against the silver and blue of the dragon. They were like a scene out of an old tale or a tapestry, and if Thymara had not been so angry with the dragon, her beauty would have captured her. Sintara sensed her wonder and began to preen herself, lifting her wings and shaking them out so that their glow was unmistakable. They were opalescent and larger than Thymara recalled them.


    ¡°I grow stronger and more beautiful each day,¡± the dragon echoed her thought effortlessly. ¡°Those who have said I will never fly will one day eat their words. Only Tintaglia can rival me for beauty and power, and a day will come when that will not be so. I am not ashamed to say so of myself. I know what I am. So why should I tolerate the company of a timid little prey-beast, who bleats and squeaks her pity for herself, who will not even challenge the male who presents himself.¡±


    ¡°Challenge the male¡­¡± Alise¡¯s icy voice melted and dribbled away in confusion.


    ¡°Of course.¡± The dragon derided her lack of comprehension. ¡°He has presented himself. He is strong enough and in good health. He follows you, sniffing after your scent. He flatters you and acknowledges your cleverness. You cannot hide from me that you are aware of his desire for you and that you find him attractive. But before you can take him, you should present to him a challenge. For you, there can be no mating flight, no battle in the air as he struggles to mount you and you evade him and test his skills in flight. But there are other ways of old that Elderling males once proved themselves. Set him a challenge.¡±


    ¡°I am not an Elderling,¡± Alise declared. Silently Thymara remarked that she did not challenge any of Sintara¡¯s other comments. So who was the suitor that Sintara deemed worthy of Alise? Sedric, she knew abruptly. The beautiful Bingtown man who had seemed to be at Alise¡¯s beck and call. Was Alise the reason he had come ashore tonight? Did he hope for a tryst with her? A voyeuristic thrill coursed through Thymara at that thought, shocking her. What was the matter with her? Sternly she refused to imagine them locked and rocking belly to belly as Jerd and Greft had been.


    ¡°And I am a married woman.¡± Alise¡¯s second assertion seemed, not a statement of fact, but an admission of doom.


    ¡°Why do you bind yourself to a mate you do not desire?¡± the dragon asked. Her confusion seemed genuine. ¡°Why do you obey a rule that only frustrates you? What do you gain from it?¡±


    ¡°I keep my word,¡± Alise replied heavily. ¡°And my honor. We entered into a bargain, Hest and I. In good faith we spoke promises to keep to each other and have no other. I wish I had not. Truly, I had no idea what I was giving up. For scrolls and a comfortable home and good food on the table, I bargained away myself. It was a stupid bargain, but one we have both kept in good faith. So, when all this is done, I will leave Leftrin and my dragons and my days of being alive. I will go home and do my best to conceive an heir for my husband. It is what I promised to do. And if you think me a squeaking and bleating prey-beast in the clutches of a predator, well, perhaps I am. But perhaps it takes a different kind of strength to keep my word when every bone in my body cries out for me to break it.¡±


    Sintara snorted disdainfully. ¡°You do not believe he has kept his promises.¡±


    ¡°I have no proof that he has broken them.¡±


    ¡°No. You are the only proof that he has broken something. You are broken.¡± The dragon¡¯s pronouncement was delivered heartlessly.

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    ¡°Perhaps. But I have kept my word and my honor intact.¡± Alise¡¯s voice had grown more and more ragged as she spoke. As she affirmed her honor, that she would keep her word, she bowed her face into her hands. For a time, she choked in silence. Then thick, painful gasps of mourning escaped her. Thymara stepped forward and hesitantly patted Alise¡¯s shoulder. She had never attempted to console anyone before. ¡°I understand,¡± she said in a quiet voice. ¡°You are choosing the only honorable path. But it is hard for you. And even harder when people think you are a fool for keeping your word.¡±


    Alise lifted a tearstained face. Impulsively, Thymara put her arms around her. ¡°Thank you,¡± the older woman said brokenly. ¡°For not thinking me stupid.¡±


    THE RAIN WAS coming down again, harder this time. Leftrin pulled his knitted cap down over his ears and squinted through the darkness and the downpour. He¡¯d had a long day, and all he really wanted to do was settle down at his galley table with some hot tea, a bowl of chowder, and a redheaded woman who smiled at his jokes, and said ¡°please¡± and ¡°thank you¡± to his crew¡¯s efforts at courtesy. Little enough, he thought, for a man to ask out of life. As he¡¯d clambered down to the shore and stalked off across the muddy flat, Tarman¡¯s painted gaze had followed him sympathetically. The ship knew his errand, and knew how much he disliked it.


    It was just like that bastard Jess to demand he meet him out here in the rain and dark. They¡¯d been exchanging silence and glares for several days now. Leftrin had been successfully avoiding conversation with the man by refusing to be alone with him. But tonight, just as he¡¯d been getting ready to settle in by the warm galley stove, he¡¯d found a note in the bottom of his coffee mug.


    He¡¯d done his best to slip away unobtrusively from his gathered crew. No one seemed to mark his departure. He moved quietly through the dark, veering away from the keepers and their bonfire. A burst of wind carried their laughter and the smell of cooking fish toward him as it whipped the flames higher. He¡¯d no wish for anyone to see him ashore tonight.


    Wind and the spattering rain and the dark all cloaked him as he approached the silver dragon. That, he took it, was the cryptic location for his meeting with Jess. ¡°Meet me by silver or the secret is out.¡± That was all the note had said, but it was a threat he could not ignore. The dragon had his front feet braced on something and was tearing chunks of meat loose from it. He knew a wild moment of hope that it was eating Jess. Another two steps and he could see that it had been something with four legs. The hunter had brought the dragon a bribe to keep him occupied while they talked. And it had worked. He watched the silver tear a leg loose from the carcass. The silver¡¯s condition had improved since he had first seen the creature, but he was still smaller and less healthy than the other dragons. His tail had healed, but he seemed to acquire parasites much more often than the other dragons. The dragon became aware of Leftrin and shifted to watch him as he chewed on the hoofed leg.


    ¡°Evening, Captain,¡± Jess greeted him as he walked around the dragon¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Fine night for a stroll.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here. What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Not so much. Just a little cooperation, that¡¯s all. I saw an opportunity this afternoon and thought we should take it.¡±


    ¡°An opportunity?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Jess patted the dragon on its shoulder. The silver rumbled a growl at the hunter, but his focus was still on the meat. ¡°He growls, but he¡¯s used to me. I¡¯ve been slipping him an extra ration of meat every chance I got. He doesn¡¯t mind me at all now.¡± As he spoke, he opened his coat, displaying a hatchet, two long knives, and one short-bladed one, all neatly sheathed in pockets concealed inside his vest. He tipped his head slightly toward the silver. ¡°Shall we begin?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± Leftrin said quietly.


    ¡°Not at all.¡± The man smiled. ¡°Once he finishes eating that deer, he¡¯s going to want a very long nap. From the start, I planned for this possibility and came prepared. I cut that deer¡¯s belly open and put a large quantity of valerian and poppy in before I offered it to the silver. Enough to drop a dragon, I think. We¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± He pulled his coat closed against the wind and rain and stood grinning at Leftrin.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing this. We won¡¯t get away with it, and I¡¯m just not doing it.¡±


    ¡°Of course we¡¯ll get away with it. I¡¯ve thought it all through. Dragon falls asleep, and we make sure it¡¯s forever. We spend a quiet hour or two claiming the most marketable parts. We take them back on board the Tarman and head downriver. Tonight.¡±

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    ¡°And the keepers and the other dragons?¡±


    ¡°In this wind and rain? They¡¯ll notice nothing until we¡¯re gone, and then they¡¯ll discover that we¡¯ve disabled their boats. I doubt that anyone will ever hear of them again.¡±


    ¡°And what do we tell the folks in Trehaug?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t even stop there. Downriver, fleet as an arrow, and then up the coast to Chalced. You¡¯ll live like a king there, with your lady. I¡¯ve seen how you look at her. This way, at least, you end up with her.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean that the other way, the path I take if you refuse, you lose everything. I tell the dragons and the keepers that you used a dragon cocoon to give your precious Tarman a bigger supply of wizardwood. Your crew is in on it, obviously. They know how little they actually work to push that barge along. I don¡¯t think the dragons will think well of you, knowing that you¡¯ve already butchered one of their kind for your own ends. I believe they¡¯re annoyed by such things. And your pretty red-haired lady may see you as not quite so honorable as she thought. False, even. Treacherous, if I do my work well.


    ¡°So, you see, you can help me harvest one mindless, unclaimed, stunted dragon and take your lady, crew, and yourself off to an indolent and indulgent life in Chalced. Or you can be stubborn and I¡¯ll unravel you and destroy everything you have or ever hope to have.¡± He smiled, squinting into the rain as he added, ¡°After they turn on you, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if I ended up with both your ship and your lady. I¡¯ve put in quite a few evenings cultivating trust and friendship among the keepers, while you wasted time courting your giddy little woman. And I suspect I¡¯ll have an ally in that Bingtown dandy. Or are you going to continue to pretend that all of you are innocent of any schemes?¡±


    The dragon bent his head and picked up the animal¡¯s rib cage in his mouth. His jaws closed on it, crushing it. He began a slow mastication, crushing and folding the rest of the animal in on itself. Leftrin stepped toward the silver, intending to intervene. The dragon blasted a snarl at him past the meat in his mouth. The stench of his breath made Leftrin blanch and step back as much as the threat.


    ¡°Oh, he doesn¡¯t trust you,¡± Jess snidely commiserated. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll let you rescue him. Stupid damn lizard. Looks like we¡¯re committed, Cap. Once he goes down, it¡¯s time to butcher. I¡¯ll just go take care of those boats right now.¡±


    The man¡¯s cockiness would have been enough to provoke Leftrin at any time without the threat to his dreams. As he passed Leftrin in the driving rain, Leftrin turned and launched himself at him. He¡¯d beat him senseless and feed him to the dragon. Poor Jess. Must have somehow provoked the dumb beast. Can scarcely blame a dragon for being a dragon, Alise.


    But Jess spun to meet him, teeth white in a merry snarl and a shining blade in his hand.


    SINTARA WATCHED THE two human females in consternation. Now, what did this mean, this clutching and sharing of tears? It wasn¡¯t hunting, nor fighting, nor mating, nor any sensible activity that she could name. She wanted them to stop. ¡°Did either of you bring me food?¡± she demanded.


    Thymara stepped away from Alise and wiped her sleeve across her wet face. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a chance to hunt today. I think the hunters got some fish.¡±


    ¡°I already ate what Carson said was ¡®my share.¡¯ It was pitiful.¡±


    ¡°I suppose I could go and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Quiet!¡± Sintara barked at her. There was something, a distant noise like the roaring of a huge wind. She sensed distress and anger from the silver dragon. As always, his thoughts were poorly formed, but something was alarming him.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she roared at him and to the other dragons in general. The sound was growing louder now; even the humans could hear it. She saw Thymara turn her head and shout. Alise clutched at her and her head swiveled back and forth, seeking the source of the noise. The roar was coming closer, but she felt no increase in the wind or driving rain. The sound grew louder, with a grinding base to it mixed with sudden cracks and snaps.


    ¡°It¡¯s the river! It¡¯s a flood!¡± Mercor¡¯s bellow slammed into her mind, and with his warning, ancient memories leaped into Sintara¡¯s awareness.


    ¡°Fly! Get above the water!¡± she trumpeted, for in that moment she forgot what she was, half a dragon, bound to the earth. The darkness could not completely mask the danger. She stared upriver and saw white lace on a gray cliff face and tumbling tree trunks in the cliff¡¯s liquid face.

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    ¡°Run for the trees!¡± Thymara shouted, but by then only the dragon could hear her small voice through the thundering water. She saw the two women, hands clutched together, turn and begin to run.


    ¡°Too late!¡± she bellowed at them. She stretched out her head, seized Alise by the shoulder and snatched her off her feet. The woman screamed. The dragon paid no attention as she craned her neck and set her down between her wings. ¡°Hold tight!¡± she warned her.


    Thymara was fleeing. Sintara thundered after her.


    Then the wave hit them.


    It was not just water. The force of it rolled boulders and carried sand. Old driftwood was tangled with trees newly torn from the earth. Sintara was bowled off her feet and pushed along. A log thudded against her ribs, knocking her sideways. The churning mass of water carried her inexorably downriver. For a moment, she was plunged completely underwater. She struck out, swimming vigorously for what she hoped was the surface and the bank. All was chaos, water, and darkness. Dragons, humans, boats, logs, and boulders mixed and mingled in the floodwater. Her head broke free of the water, but the world no longer made sense. Sintara spun in the current, paddling desperately. She could not find the shore. All around her, the water streamed white under the night sky. She caught a glimpse of Tarman¡¯s lights and saw an empty boat seized by the leafy branches of a floating tree. The immense driftwood log that had been the heart of the keeper¡¯s bonfire floated past her, streaming smoke and crowned still with a branch of glowing embers.


    ¡°Thymara!¡± she heard Alise shout, and only then became aware that the woman still clung to her wings. ¡°Save her! Look, Sintara, see her! There! There!¡±


    She didn¡¯t see the keeper girl, and then she did. The girl was trying to struggle free of a mass of floating brush. It had entangled her clothing. Soon it would engulf her and she would be pulled under as it sank. ¡°Stupid humans!¡± Sintara bellowed. She struck out for her, only to be hit broadside by Ranculos as the water shoved him past her. When she recovered and looked at the floating mass of brush, the girl was gone. Too late.


    ¡°Thymara! Thymara!¡± Alise was shrieking, but her voice was full of hopelessness.


    ¡°Which way is the shore?¡± the dragon bellowed at her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the woman shrieked back. Then, ¡°Over there! That way. Swim that way.¡± Alise¡¯s shaking hand pointed in the direction they were already going. Encouraged, the dragon struck out more strongly. She could not climb the trees for safety, but she could wedge herself between them and wait out the worst of this flooding.


    ¡°There! Right there!¡± Alise shrieked again. But she was not pointing to the shore, but to a small, white, upturned face in the water. Thymara¡¯s hands reached out and up to her.


    ¡°Please!¡± she screamed.


    Sintara bent her head and dragged her keeper from the river¡¯s grasp. ¡°Mine!¡± she trumpeted defiantly around Thymara¡¯s dangling body. ¡°Mine!¡±


    Day the 17th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    A message from Trader Korum Finbok of the Bingtown Traders, sent at the behest of and in support of a query by Traders Meldar and Kincarron, seeking more information about the departure of Alise Kincarron Finbok and Sedric Meldar on the liveship Tarman.


    Detozi,


    A small note. The families of Sedric Meldar and Alise Finbok are absolutely frantic, with both declaring that neither of them would voluntarily depart on an expedition that might take months before they return. Alise Finbok¡¯s husband is on an extended trading voyage, but her father-in-law has been persuaded to put his considerable fortune to work in an effort to gain more information. If you know of anyone capable of traveling swiftly up the river and taking a message bird or two with them, they might earn a substantial reward from this.


    Erek


    CHAPTER FIVE


    WHITE FLOOD


    Leftrin¡¯s hands locked around Jess¡¯s throat. The hunter was raining body blows on the captain¡¯s midsection. Leftrin thought he had cracked ribs from the beating and he tasted blood from his smashed lips, but he kept his grip. It was a matter of time. If he could throttle him long enough, the punishing punches would stop. Already they were losing strength and when both Jess¡¯s hands rose to clutch at Leftrin¡¯s wrist, he knew it was over except for that final stretch of endurance. The hunter clawed at his wrists, but Leftrin¡¯s hands were toughened, not just by scales but by too-frequent immersions in river water. His scar tissue resisted Jess¡¯s nails. He could not see Jess¡¯s face, but he knew his eyes would be bulging by now. He squeezed harder, imagining the man¡¯s tongue starting to protrude from his mouth.

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    Around the combatants, the wind swirled and the black rain battered down. The silver dragon had either abandoned the carcass or been unaffected by the drugs. He galloped in a clumsy circle around them, trumpeting in distress. Leftrin could not worry that the dragon¡¯s noise might bring the keepers down on them. If they came, he could show them Jess¡¯s knives, say he¡¯d only been protecting the dragon. Grip, he told his weary hands and shaking arms. Grip! The pain was sickening. There was a roaring in his ears, and he feared he would pass out before he could finish the job. He squeezed, and still the hunter struggled, flinging his head forward in a futile effort to butt Leftrin in the face.


    A wall of water, stone, and timber suddenly appeared behind Jess. Leftrin¡¯s mind froze that agonizing moment into a decade. He saw, clearly, the debris that showed in the white water. He knew that the wave would be acid and heavy with silt. This was a flood that had come a long, long way, collecting driftwood and tearing trees free from the banks as it came. He caught one glimpse of a huge elk carcass coming toward them, tumbling like a toy tossed in the air.


    ¡°Tarman!¡± he shouted, and let Jess¡¯s throat go. He spun to run for his ship, to save his beloved boat if he could.


    But in that instant, time resumed. The water smashed him down as it devoured the sandbar. He saw nothing, knew nothing except the struggle of an animal that is suddenly thrust into a foreign element. There was no air, no light, no up, no down. Cold and force drove his breath from his body. Good-bye, he thought stupidly. Good-bye, Alise. At least I didn¡¯t have to see you go back to another man. A drowning death might be better than that other, slower torment.


    Something bumped him. His hands and arms locked on to it and he rose with it, bursting into blackness. He gasped in both air and the water that streamed from his hair and skin, choked, went under again with the tumbling log, and then popped up again. The crest of the wave had passed them, but the river still flowed strong and possibly twice as deep as it had been. The speed of the current swept him down the river in a dangerous stew of trees, struggling animals and carcasses, and driftwood. He did not try to get on top of the log he clutched. Instead he resigned himself to regular duckings and held tight to it, hoping the current would hold him near the center of the river. He could hear the crashes and snapping as debris struck trees on the river¡¯s banks and tore them loose or smashed them down. He had one glimpse of a dragon, swimming frantically. Then his log turned, ducking him again, and when he came up, the dragon was gone.


    As the river settled, he moved down the trunk toward the root end. There the wood was thicker, and the roots offered him more grips. He ventured to climb a bit higher out of the water and scanned the surface of the water. As the water calmed, the debris was spreading out, borne along on the still swollen river. The starlight and moonlight shone on the white water. He saw floating carcasses as black shapes. In the distance, he saw a large silhouette of a paddling dragon. He shouted, but he doubted that his voice reached it. The sounds of the rushing water, of trees groaning and giving way, of flotsam crashing together drowned his human voice.


    Then he saw something that lifted his heart. Light sparkled, dimmed, and then grew steady to become a perfect circle of yellow lamplight. It could only be Tarman; someone had just re-kindled a lamp on board him. The light gave sudden shape and meaning to what had been blackness against blackness. Tarman was distant, down current of Leftrin, but he knew his ship¡¯s low black profile. He drew his breath deep into his abused lungs, wincing at his aching ribs. He didn¡¯t waste his breath cursing Jess; with any sort of luck, the man was a corpse by now. Instead, he pursed his lips and pushed out a long, steady whistle. Another breath. Again, he whistled, the pitch a notch higher than before. Another breath.


    Even before he pushed the sound out, he knew Tarman had heard him. The circle of light shifted as the ship wheeled toward him. The light vanished. For a time, he just clung to his log, breathing steadily and waiting. Then the lantern on Tarman¡¯s bow was kindled. He drew breath, whistled again, and watched the light almost immediately grow larger. Paddling with all his might, Tarman was coming for him. The barge¡¯s thick sturdy legs and webbed feet would propel him against the current. Swarge would man the tiller and the crew would break out the sweeps, but Tarman would not wait for that pantomime of help. The liveship was coming for his captain. He whistled again, and low to the water, he saw the pale blue gleam of two large eyes. Rescue was coming. All he had to do now was wait for his ship to save him.


    PERHAPS SINTARA ATTEMPTED to set her down beside Alise. But the effort failed, and Thymara fell on top of the Bingtown woman. Alise¡¯s arms closed around her in an engulfing embrace that both kept her from sliding back into the water and sent a spike of agony down her back as her clutching hands pressed against Thymara¡¯s injury.

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    Thymara tried not to struggle against the grip that was saving her. An instant later, they were both starting to slide down the dragon¡¯s sleekly scaled front shoulder. ¡°Hold on!¡± Alise screamed by her ear, and Thymara reached out for anything that might offer purchase. Her scrabbling claws caught at the edges of Sintara¡¯s scales; she was sure the dragon would have protested angrily if she hadn¡¯t been struggling for her own life.


    Alise¡¯s grip on Thymara had gone from saving the girl from falling to clutching at her to stay on the dragon. Thymara risked letting go with one hand and lunged for a better grip. She hooked her hand over the joint where Sintara¡¯s wings were anchored to her back. ¡°Hold on to me!¡± she gasped to Alise, and used all her strength to drag them back on top of the dragon.


    Once they were on top, she managed to loosen Alise¡¯s grip on her enough that she could slide forward. She seated herself just in front of Sintara¡¯s wings, pushing her heels back and gripping the dragon with her knees. It was not at all a secure perch, but it was better than where she had been. Behind her, she felt Alise settling into place. The Bingtown woman took a tight grip on Thymara¡¯s belt, and suddenly there was a moment in which to take stock of their situation.


    ¡°What happened?¡± she shouted back to Alise.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Seated as close as she was, her words still barely reached Thymara¡¯s ear. The river roared around them. ¡°A huge wave came down the river. Captain Leftrin told me that sometimes, after a quake, the river ran white for a time. But he never mentioned anything like this.¡±


    Wind snapped Thymara¡¯s wet black braids. All around them was a fury of sound. Her eyes could make no sense of what the faint moonlight showed her. The river was white as milk. As she clung to the struggling dragon, she shared the creature¡¯s panic and fury. And felt, too, her growing weariness. The water was filled with floating wreckage. Tree limbs and trunks, mats of uprooted bushes, and carcasses of drowned creatures bobbed and swirled in the river. When she stared toward the bank, it looked as if the flow of water now extended far under the forest eaves. As she watched, an immense tree swayed and began an impossibly slow fall. She cried out in terror, but there was nothing Sintara could do to avoid it. The tree was coming down, like a tower falling. It leaned, groaned, leaned again, and suddenly the river swept them past it and away from that danger.


    ¡°Dragon!¡± Alise shouted suddenly, and she stupidly let go of Thymara¡¯s belt with one hand to point downriver of them. ¡°Another dragon. I think it is Veras!¡±


    It was. Thymara recognized her by the crest that the dark green female had recently begun to grow. She was still swimming, but it seemed to Thymara that she was lower in the water, as if her weariness was pulling her under. Veras was Jerd¡¯s dragon. Thymara wondered where her keeper was, and then, like a second wave breaking over her, she realized she was not the only keeper swept away by the flood. The others had been gathered around the bonfire. All of them would have been inundated. And what had become of their boats and gear, of the Tarman, of all the other dragons? How could she have been thinking only of herself? Everyone, everything that made up her current life had been inundated and swept away. Her eyes swept the river in desperate search, but the light was too dim and there were too many objects floating and bobbing in the roiling water.


    Beneath her, she felt Sintara¡¯s ribs swell as the dragon took a breath. Then a trumpeting cry burst from her. In the distance, Veras turned her head. A tiny sound like a bird¡¯s squawk reached her straining ears. Then another came, a deeper longer note, drawing her eyes to a massive swimming shape that had to be Ranculos. He bellowed again, and the sense of the sound reached her mind as well. ¡°Mercor says swim for the bank. The trees will give us something to brace against. Hold in place until the water goes down. Swim for the bank!¡±


    Sintara¡¯s ribs swelled with air again. With greater energy she trumpeted out the message, passing it on to any who might hear her. ¡°Swim for the bank! Swim for the trees!¡±


    Thymara heard it echoed by another dragon in the distance. And perhaps a second time. After that, at irregular intervals, she heard a dragon trumpet. It seemed to come from the direction of the shore. ¡°Go toward the sound,¡± she urged Sintara.


    Following that advice was not an easy task. The current gripped them firmly, and the floating debris created obstacle after obstacle as Sintara battled toward the shore. Once they were caught in an eddy and spun around and around, until Thymara had no sense of direction left.


    ALISE HELD TIGHT to Thymara¡¯s belt and gritted her teeth against the pain of her fresh scalds. Where her copper gown touched her, her skin was protected, but her cheeks and forehead and eyelids burned from the acid water. She turned her face up to the rain and felt its coolness as a blessing. She gritted her teeth, her lips pulling back in a sardonic smile. She could die here and she was worrying about a little pain. Ridiculous. She laughed aloud.

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    Thymara turned to stare at her. ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    For a moment, the sight of her eyes glowing pale blue in the night unsettled Alise. But then she nodded grimly. ¡°I¡¯m as all right as I can be. I¡¯ve counted eight dragons so far; or at least I think I have. I may have counted some twice.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any of the other keepers. Or the Tarman. Have you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Alise bit the word off short. She wouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t worry now. The Tarman was a big boat; it had to be all right. Leftrin would come to find her and save her. He had to. He was her only hope now. For a moment she marveled that she could put so much faith in a mere man. Then she shook the thought from her mind. He was all she had that she could count on. She would not doubt him now.


    All around them, the water seethed and roared. The sound pressed on her ears. The fury of the first wave had passed, but the water that followed it swelled the river and powered the current. Alise gripped with her knees as if she were riding a horse and held tight to Thymara¡¯s belt and prayed. All her muscles ached from being clenched so long. Sweet Sa, how long could sheer terror last? Beneath her, the dragon struggled, and seemed to swim less powerfully than she had. She wondered how much time had passed. The dragon must be getting exhausted. If Sintara gave up, then all of them would die. She knew she could not survive in the deluge without her. She leaned closer to the dragon¡¯s head.


    ¡°It¡¯s not far now, my beauty, my queen. See, there is the line of trees. You can make it. Don¡¯t try to swim straight to it. Let the current carry you but ease toward the shore, my gem, my priceless beauty.¡±


    She felt something from the dragon, some warming of strength, as if her mere human words encouraged her in a way that defied the physical challenges.


    Thymara sensed it, too. ¡°Great queen, you have to survive. The memories of all your ancestors depend on you to carry them forward through time. Swim! Or all they have been will be forever lost, and all the world will be less for that. You must survive. You must!¡±


    The shore came closer so slowly. Despite their encouragement, Sintara¡¯s strength was flagging. Then the sound of trumpeting reached them. Along the shore, wedged against the trees, were dragons. They called to her, and Alise felt a thrill shoot through her when she heard thin human voices raised as well.


    ¡°It¡¯s Sintara! It¡¯s Thymara¡¯s blue queen! Swim, queen, swim! Don¡¯t give up!¡±


    ¡°Sweet Sa, there is someone on her back! Who is it? Who did she save?¡±


    ¡°Swim, dragon! Swim! You¡¯ll make it!¡±


    Thymara suddenly lifted her voice. ¡°Sylve? Is that you? Alise and I are here, Sintara saved us!¡±


    Sylve¡¯s high voice reached them. ¡°Don¡¯t try to climb up on the mat. You¡¯ll get tangled up. Push through it until you get to the trees at the edge. Then we¡¯ll get some big logs under you so you can rest, Sintara. Don¡¯t get tangled up! It¡¯s like a net; it will trap you and drag you down.¡±


    IN A MATTER of minutes, they were grateful for that advice. All manner of debris had fetched up against the shore. At the river¡¯s side, it was loose and floating, but the closer Sintara got to the trees, the more packed and tangled it became. Thymara clung to her dragon and felt that this final part of her struggle lasted at least a day. The safety of the trees loomed overhead, and never had she longed more to feel bark under her claws and hold fast to one of the immense giants and know she was safe. A dimness that was not quite light but indicated that morning was beginning somewhere had begun to permeate the sky and reach down toward the chaos on the water. Had they battled the water all night? Thymara could see the hulking shapes of dragons under the trees now. They were braced against the flow of the water, front paws wrapped around trees as they floated exhaustedly. At intervals, the dragons trumpeted; she wondered who they were calling. There were keepers there, too, perched in the lower branches of the trees. She could not tell how many or who, but her heart lifted with hope that all would be well. Only a few hours ago, she thought that she and Alise and Sintara might be the only survivors. Now she wondered if perhaps they had all escaped unscathed.


    Sintara chested her way through the floating mat of debris. It was hard for the dragon to accept the advice not to try and clamber on top of it. Thymara could feel her weariness, her need just to stop struggling and rest. Her heart leaped with joy when she saw first Sylve and then Tats venturing out across the packed branches and logs toward them. ¡°Be careful!¡± she shouted at them. ¡°If you fall and go under, we¡¯ll never find you under this mat.¡±

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    ¡°I know!¡± Tats was the one to reply. ¡°But we have to pull some of it out of the way so Sintara can reach the trees. We¡¯ve been able to help some of the dragons get at least a floating log under their chests to help hold them up.


    ¡°That would be welcome,¡± Sintara immediately replied, and by that admission, Thymara knew she was far more tired than she had thought.


    ¡°We have to get off her,¡± she told Alise in a low voice. ¡°The mat looks thick enough to support us, if we go carefully.¡±


    Alise was already moving the sash from her gown. It was longer than Thymara had expected, for the Bingtown woman had looped it twice around her waist. ¡°Tie this to your wrist,¡± she suggested. ¡°And I¡¯ll do the same. If one of us slips, the other can save her.¡±


    Thymara clambered down first, half sliding down the dragon¡¯s slick shoulder. She was grateful for the sash on her wrist as Alise pulled her up short of the mat and let her select her landing spot. There was a nearby log with a branch sticking out. Thymara made the successful hop to it, and though it dipped and rocked under her weight, it did not roll and dump her in. She suspected that it had many submerged branches that were now so tangled with other debris that it could not easily shift.


    ¡°It¡¯s good! Come down,¡± she called back to Alise. She glanced over to see that Tats had nearly reached the log and stepped onto it. ¡°Stay back!¡± she warned him. ¡°Let me get Alise down and onto this before you add any more weight to it.¡± He halted where he was, clearly displeased and anxious, but listening to her. As Alise ventured down, clinging to Sintara¡¯s wing as she came, she heard Sylve¡¯s voice on the other side of Sintara.


    ¡°We have to go slowly, or you¡¯ll dump me in the river. I¡¯ll come toward you on this log. As my weight pushes it down, you¡¯ll try to put a front leg over it. Then, as I back up, you¡¯ll try to edge sideways along it. So far, we¡¯ve been able to help three dragons get some flotation this way. Are you ready to try?¡±


    ¡°Very ready,¡± the dragon replied. She sounded almost grateful and very unlike her usual self. Thymara almost smiled. Perhaps after this, she might see her keepers in a different light.


    She gasped aloud as Tats caught her by the arm. ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± he said comfortingly. ¡°Come this way.¡±


    ¡°Let go! You¡¯re throwing me off balance.¡± At the hurt look that crossed his face, she added more placatingly, ¡°We have to make room for Alise on the log. Move back, Tats.¡± As he obeyed her, she said in a quieter voice, ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you alive that I don¡¯t know what to say to you.¡±


    ¡°Besides ¡®let go!¡¯?¡± he asked with bitter humor.


    ¡°I¡¯m not angry with you anymore,¡± she told him, a bit surprised to find it was true. ¡°To your left, Alise!¡± she called as the woman, still clinging to Sintara¡¯s wing, groped for a place to set her foot. ¡°A little more, a little more¡­there. You¡¯re right over it. Ease your weight down.¡±


    The Bingtown woman obeyed her, letting out a small squeak as the log initially sank under her weight. She lowered her other foot and stood, arms outstretched like a bird trying to dry its wings after a storm. No sooner was her weight off the dragon than Sintara made a lunge to try to get her front leg over the log that Sylve was weighing down. The dragon¡¯s abrupt movement sent the whole debris pack to rocking. Alise cried out but swayed with the motion, keeping her balance. Thymara, bereft of pride, crouched and then sat on the log. ¡°Lower your weight!¡± she suggested to Alise. ¡°We can crawl along the logs until we reach a place where things are a bit more stable.¡±


    ¡°I can balance,¡± the Bingtown woman replied, and although her voice shook a bit, she kept her upright stance.


    ¡°As you wish,¡± Thymara replied. ¡°I¡¯m crawling.¡± She suspected that her many years¡¯ experience in the treetops had taught her not to take risks unless she had to. She scuttled along the log to its widest end, where its snaggled roots reared up out of the river. There she stood, catching hold of the roots. Tats had preceded her. He now gave her a sideways glance and offered, ¡°I¡¯ll show you the way I came out here. Parts of this mat are thicker than others.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied and waited for Alise to catch up with her, gathering up the slackened sash as she came. She glanced back at Sintara, feeling a bit guilty that she was letting Sylve do the work of caring for her dragon. The small girl moved confidently, instructing the dragon in what she wished her to do. Thymara sighed with relief. She could handle it.

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    ¡°Sylve managed to recapture one of the boats,¡± Tats said over his shoulder. ¡°She¡¯s the one who pulled me out of the water.¡±


    ¡°I remember when I thought she was too young and childish for an expedition like this,¡± Thymara observed, and she was surprised when Tats laughed aloud.


    ¡°Adversity brings out the best in us, I suppose.¡± They¡¯d reached the first of the large trees. Thymara paused by it, resting her hand on it. It felt so good. It shivered in the passing current, but even so, it felt more solid than anything she had touched in hours. She longed to sink her claws in the bark and climb, but she was still tethered to Alise.


    ¡°There¡¯s one with some lower branches just over there,¡± Tats told her.


    ¡°A good choice,¡± she agreed. Under the trees, the debris was packed more tightly. It still bobbed under her feet with every step she took, but it was easy to dance across it to the tree that Tats had indicated. As she became more confident of simple survival, a hundred other concerns tried to crowd to the forefront of her mind. She held her questions until they reached the tree Tats had indicated. Thymara climbed a short way up it, sank in claws, and then assisted Alise as Tats gave her a boost to start her up the trunk. The Bingtown woman did not climb well, but between the two of them, they managed to get her up the trunk and onto a stout, almost horizontal branch. It was wide enough for her to lie down on, but she sat cross-legged in the exact middle and crossed her arms.


    ¡°Are you cold?¡± Thymara asked her.


    ¡°No. This robe keeps me surprisingly warm. But my face and hands hurt from the river water.¡±


    ¡°I think my scales kept me from the worst of it,¡± Thymara said and then wondered that she had said it aloud.


    The Bingtown woman nodded. ¡°Then I envy you that. This Elderling robe seemed to protect me from the water. I don¡¯t understand how. I got wet, but I dried very quickly. And where the gown touches me, I don¡¯t feel any irritation from the water.¡±


    Tats was the one to shrug. ¡°Lots of Elderling stuff does things you wouldn¡¯t think it could. Wind chimes that play tunes when the wind blows. Metal that lights up when you touch it. Jewels that smell like perfume and never lose their scent. It¡¯s magical, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Thymara nodded and then asked, ¡°How many of us are here?¡±


    ¡°Most of us,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone has scratches or bruises. Kase got a nasty gash on his leg, but the water seemed to burn it closed. So I suppose there¡¯s a mercy to that as we don¡¯t have anything to use for bandaging. Ranculos got hit in the ribs with something. When he snorts, blood comes out of his nose, but he insists he¡¯ll be fine if we leave him alone. Harrikin has asked that we do that. He says Ranculos doesn¡¯t want any of us fussing over him. Boxter got hit in the face with something; his eyes are blackened, and he can barely see out of them. Tinder hurt his wing, and at first Nortel thought it was broken. But the swelling went down and now he can move it, so we¡¯re thinking it¡¯s just a bad sprain. Lots of injuries for everyone. But at least they¡¯re here.¡±


    Thymara just looked at him. ¡°What else?¡± Alise demanded


    He took a breath. ¡°Alum¡¯s missing. And Warken. Alum¡¯s dragon keeps trumpeting for him, so we wonder if he is still alive somewhere. We¡¯ve tried talking to Arbuc, but no one can make sense of him. It¡¯s like trying to talk to a scared little child. He just keeps trumpeting and repeating that he wants Alum to come and take him out of the water. Warken¡¯s red is silent; Baliper won¡¯t speak to any of us. Veras, Jerd¡¯s dragon, is also missing. Jerd hasn¡¯t stopped weeping since she got here. She says she can¡¯t ¡®feel¡¯ her dragon, so she thinks she drowned.¡±


    ¡°We saw Veras! She was alive and swimming strongly, but the current was carrying her downriver.¡±


    ¡°Well, I still think that¡¯s good news. You should tell her.¡±


    Something in his voice alerted Thymara that worse news was to come. She held her breath, waiting for it, but Alise asked immediately, ¡°What about Tarman and Captain Leftrin?¡±


    ¡°Some of us saw the ship, right after the wave first hit. The water went over the top of him, but we saw him bob up again, with white water streaming out of his scuppers. So he was upright and afloat the last time we saw him, but that¡¯s all we know. We haven¡¯t seen anyone from the boat¡¯s crews or any of the hunters, so we hope they were aboard and rode it out on Tarman.¡±


    ¡°If they did, they¡¯ll come to find us. Captain Leftrin will come for us.¡± She spoke with such heartfelt confidence that Thymara almost felt sorry for her. If he didn¡¯t come, she thought, Alise would be hard put to accept that she must rescue herself.

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    She looked flatly at Tats. ¡°And what else?¡± she demanded.


    ¡°The silver dragon isn¡¯t here. And neither is Relpda, the little copper queen.¡±


    Thymara sighed. ¡°I wondered if they would survive. Neither was very smart, and the copper was always sickly. Perhaps it was a mercy that they went so quickly.¡± She looked at Tats, wondering if he would agree with her. But he didn¡¯t seem to hear her words. ¡°Who else?¡± she asked flatly.


    A small stillness followed her question, as if the world paused to prepare itself to grieve. ¡°Heeby. And Rapskal. They aren¡¯t here, and no one saw anything of either of them after the wave hit.¡±


    ¡°But I left him with you!¡± she protested, as if somehow that meant it were Tats¡¯s fault. She saw him wince and knew he felt the same.


    ¡°I know. One moment we were standing there arguing. The next, the water slapped us down. I never saw him again.¡±


    Thymara crouched down on the tree branch and waited for pain and tears to come. They didn¡¯t. Instead a strange numbness flowed up from her belly. She had killed him. She had killed him by getting so angry at him that she¡¯d stopped caring about him. ¡°I was so angry at him,¡± she confessed to Tats. ¡°What he told me ruined my idea of him, and I thought I¡¯d just have to stop knowing him, stop letting him be near me. And now he¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°Ruined your idea of him?¡± Tats asked cautiously.


    ¡°I just never thought he¡¯d do a thing like that. I¡¯d thought he was better than that,¡± she said awkwardly.


    Too late she saw that Tats accepted that judgment upon himself as well. ¡°Maybe none of us are quite what the others think we are,¡± he observed shortly and stood. He walked back toward the trunk, and she could not think of any words to call him back.


    Alise called after him, ¡°No one can know that he and Heeby are dead. He might have made it to the Tarman. Maybe Captain Leftrin will bring him back to us.¡±


    Tats glanced back at them. His voice was flat as he said, ¡°I¡¯m going to tell Jerd that you saw Veras. It might give her a little comfort. Greft has been trying to encourage her, but she hasn¡¯t been listening to him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± Alise agreed. ¡°Tell her that when we saw her dragon, she was afloat and swimming strongly.¡±


    Thymara let him go. Let him go to comfort Jerd. It didn¡¯t matter to her. She had let go of him when she had let go of Rapskal. She hadn¡¯t really known either of them. It was much better to keep her heart to herself. She wondered if she were being stupid. Did she have to hold on to her hurt and anger? Could she just let it go and forgive him and have him back as her friend? For a moment, it seemed as if it were purely her decision; she could make what he had done an important matter or she could let it go as just something that had happened. Holding on to it was hurting both of them. Before she had known what he had done with Jerd, he¡¯d been her friend. All that had changed was that now she knew.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t unknow it,¡± she whispered to herself. ¡°And knowing that he could do something like that does show me that he¡¯s a different person from what I believed.¡±


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Alise asked her. ¡°Did you say something?¡±


    ¡°No, just talking to myself.¡± Thymara lifted her hands and covered her eyes. She was safe and her clothing was starting to dry out. She was hungry, but the hunger was beyond her tiredness and hurt. She could wait to deal with it. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to find a place to sleep for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Alise sounded disappointed. ¡°I was hoping we¡¯d go and talk with the others. Find out what they saw and what happened to them.¡±


    ¡°You go ahead. I don¡¯t mind being alone.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Alise began, and Thymara suddenly saw her problem. She¡¯d probably never climbed a tree before, let alone clambered around through a network of trees. Alise needed her help but didn¡¯t want to ask. Thymara suddenly longed for simple sleep and time alone. Her head was starting to pound, and she wished there were a private place where she could go to weep until she could sleep. Rapskal wandered through her thoughts with his insouciant grin and good humor. Gone. Gone from her twice now, in less than one night. Gone, most likely, forever.


    Her chin quivered suddenly, and she might have given way right in front of Alise had Sylve not saved her. The girl came clambering up the trunk like a squirrel, with Harrikin close behind her. He climbed like a lizard, belly to the trunk, as Thymara did. Once they had gained the branch, he folded up his long lean body and perched with his back to the trunk. Sylve dusted her hands on her stained breeches and informed them, ¡°We¡¯ve got Sintara afloat and resting. Harrikin helped me and we got a couple of logs under her chest. We¡¯ve jammed the logs against trees and the current should hold them there, but we roped them with vines just in case. She¡¯s not comfortable, but she¡¯s not going to drown. And the water has already begun to drop. We can tell from the water mark on the trees that it¡¯s going down.¡±

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    ¡°Thank you.¡± The words seemed inadequate, but she didn¡¯t have anything better to offer her.


    ¡°It was nothing,¡± she replied. ¡°Harrikin and I are actually getting good at it. I never expected to learn how to float a dragon.¡± She smiled, glanced at Thymara with red-rimmed eyes, and then away.


    ¡°Mercor and Ranculos?¡± Thymara asked. She would not mention Rapskal¡¯s name. Sharing the pain didn¡¯t help it.


    ¡°Mercor is weary but otherwise fine. I¡¯ve asked him if he ever recalled anything like this happening before. Once, he said, one of his ancestors was foolish enough to fly around a mountain that he knew was about to explode. It was a tall one, covered with glaciers and snow, and he wanted to see what would happen when the fire met the ice. When it did erupt, the ice and snow melted instantly and flowed down the mountain, taking stone and muck with it in a thick soup. He said it flowed swift and far, almost out of sight. He wonders if that is what happened, somewhere far away from us, and the wave of it only reached us now.¡±


    Thymara was silent, trying to imagine such a thing. She shook her head. What Sylve was suggesting was on a scale far beyond anything she could imagine. A whole mountain melting and flowing away, clear out of sight? Was such a thing possible?


    ¡°And your dragon, Ranculos?¡± she asked Harrikin.


    ¡°Ranculos was clipped by a log in the first tumble of the wave. He¡¯s bruised badly, but at least his skin isn¡¯t broken so the water isn¡¯t eating into him.¡± Sylve answered for him. Harrikin nodded slowly to her words. He¡¯d become very still, and in repose he reminded Thymara even more of a lizard, right down to his jeweled unblinking eyes.


    ¡°You found a boat and rescued Tats?¡±


    ¡°It was random luck. I¡¯d left my dish in the boat. The fish was nearly cooked, and I went back to get it. I climbed in and was sorting through my stuff when the wave hit. I held tight to the boat and eventually it came out on top of the water and upright. All I had to do was bail. But it snatched all my gear out. I don¡¯t have a thing except what I¡¯m wearing.¡±


    Slowly it came to Thymara that the same was true for her. She had not thought her spirits could sink lower, but they did.


    ¡°Does anyone have anything left?¡± she asked, thinking desolately of her hunting gear, her blanket, even her dry pair of socks. All gone.


    ¡°We recovered three boats, but I don¡¯t think anything was in any of them. Not even oars. We¡¯ll have to make something that works. Greft has his fire pouch still, but it¡¯s of small use right now. Where would we set a fire? I dread tonight when the mosquitoes come. We¡¯re going to be miserable until the water goes down. And even then, well, my friends, we¡¯ve hard times to face.¡±


    Alise spoke. ¡°Captain Leftrin will come and find us. And once he does, and the water goes down, we¡¯ll go on.¡±


    ¡°Go on?¡± Harrikin spoke softly, slowly, as if he could not believe his ears.


    The Bingtown woman looked around at her small circle of startled listeners and gave a tiny laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t you know your history? It¡¯s what Traders do. We go on. Besides¡±¡ªand she shrugged¡ª¡°there¡¯s nothing else we can do.¡±


    Day the 19th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    Enclosed, a report from the Cassarick Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council as sent to the Trehaug Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council, concerning the earthquake, black rain, and white flood, and the likely demise of the members of the Kelsingra expedition, the crew of the Tarman, and all dragons.


    Erek,


    We have never seen such a flash flood as we have just endured. Lives were lost in both excavation sites, the new docks that were just built at Cassarick are gone, and a score of trees that fronted the river were torn loose. It is only good fortune that so few houses were lost. Damage to the bridges and to the Trader Hall here is substantial. I doubt we will ever hear what has become of the dragons and their keepers. I only received your bird message about visiting the Rain Wilds a day ago. I hope you were not on the river. If you are well, please, send me a bird to say so as soon as you receive this.


    Detozi


    CHAPTER SIX


    PARTNERS


    Water splashed against his face, startling him awake from his nightmare. He coughed and spat. ¡°Stop it!¡± he choked and tried to put a threat in his voice. ¡°Get out of my room. I¡¯m getting up. I won¡¯t be late.¡±


    Despite his plea, water slopped against his face again. His stupid sister was going to get it now!

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    He opened his eyes to a new nightmare. He dangled face-down from the jaws of a dragon. The dragon was swimming in a white river. The sky had the uncertain light of dawn. Sedric¡¯s head was barely above the water. He could feel the dragon¡¯s teeth pressed lightly against the skin of his back and chest. His arms and legs were outside the dragon¡¯s mouth, dragging through the water. The water pushed against the swimming dragon, shoving them steadily downstream. And the dragon was tired. She swam with a dogged one-two, one-two stroke of her front legs. He turned his head and saw that only the dragon¡¯s front shoulders and head were still above water. The copper was sinking. And when her strength gave out and she went down, Sedric would go with her.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked, his voice a croak.


    Big water. She gurgled her response, but the words formed in his mind. She pressed an image at him, a crashing wave of white filled with rocks and logs and dead animals. Even now, the moving face of the river was littered with flotsam. She swam downstream beside a tangled mat of creepers and small bits of driftwood. A dead animal¡¯s hoofed feet were partially visible in it. The river caught the tangle and spun it, and it dispersed.


    ¡°What happened to everyone else?¡± The dragon gave him no response. He was so close to the water¡¯s surface that he had no perspective. Nothing but water everywhere. Could that be so? He turned his head slowly from side to side. No Tarman. No boat. No keepers, no other dragons. Just himself, the copper dragon, the wide white river, and the forest in the distance.


    He tried to recall what had come before. He¡¯d left the boat. He¡¯d spoken to Thymara. He¡¯d gone looking for the dragon. He¡¯d intended to resolve his situation. Somehow. And there his recall of events ended. He shifted in the dragon¡¯s mouth. That woke points of pain where the dragon¡¯s teeth pressed against him. His dangling legs were cold and nearly numb. The skin of his face stung. He tried to move his arms and found he could, but even that small shift made the dragon¡¯s head wobble. She caught herself and swam on, but now he was barely out of the water. The river threatened to start sloshing into her gullet.


    He looked to see how far away the shore was, but could not find any shore. To one side of them, he saw a line of trees sticking out of the water. When he turned his eyes the other way, he saw only more river. When had it become so wide? He blinked, trying to make his eyes focus. Day was growing stronger around them, and light bounced off the white surface of the river. There was no shore under the trees; the river was in a flood stage.


    And the dragon was swimming downriver with the current.


    ¡°Copper,¡± he said, trying to get her attention. She paddled doggedly onward.


    He searched his mind and came up with her name. ¡°Relpda. Swim toward the shore. Not down the river. Swim toward the trees. Over there.¡± He started to lift an arm to point, but moving hurt and when he shifted, the dragon turned her head, nearly putting his face in the water. She kept paddling steadily downstream.


    ¡°Curse you, listen to me! Turn toward the shore! It¡¯s our only hope. Carry me over there, by the trees, and then you can do what you wish. I don¡¯t want to die in this river.¡±


    If she even noticed he was speaking to her, he could not tell. One-two, one-two. He rocked with the dogged rhythm of her paddling.


    He wondered if he could swim to the trees on his own. He¡¯d never been a strong swimmer, but the fear of drowning might lend him a bit of strength. He flexed his legs experimentally, earning himself another dunk in the river and the knowledge that he was chilled to the bone. If the dragon didn¡¯t carry him to shore, he wasn¡¯t going to get there. And the way she was swimming now made him doubt that even she could make it. But she was his only chance, if he could get her to listen to him.


    He thought of Alise and Sintara. He lifted a hand to touch Relpda¡¯s jaw, flesh to scale. His hands were tender, the skin deeply wrinkled from immersion in the river. They were red, too, and he suspected that if he warmed them up, they¡¯d burn. He couldn¡¯t think about that now.


    ¡°Beauteous one,¡± he began, feeling foolish. Almost immediately, he felt a warm spark of attention in his mind. ¡°Lovely copper queen, gleaming like a freshly minted coin. You of the swirling eyes and glistening scales, please hear me.¡±


    Hear you.


    ¡°Yes, hear me. Turn your head. Do you see the trees there, sticking up from the water? Lovely one, if you carried me there, we could both rest. I could groom you and perhaps find you some food. I know you are hungry. I feel it.¡± That, he realized, was disconcertingly true. And if he let his mind wander there, he felt her increasing weariness, too. Back away from that! ¡°Let us go there so you can take the rest you so richly deserve, and I can have the pleasure of cleaning your face of mud.¡±

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    He was not very good at it. Other than telling her she was pretty, he had no idea of what compliments would please a dragon. After he had spoken, he waited for a response from her. She turned her head, looked at the trees and kept paddling. They were not headed straight for the shore, but at least now, at some point, they¡¯d connect with it.


    ¡°You are so wise, lovely copper one. So pretty and beautiful and shining and copper. Swim toward the trees, clever, pretty dragon.¡±


    He sensed again that warm touch and felt oddly moved by it. The aches in his body seemed to lessen as well. It didn¡¯t seem to matter that his words were simple and ungraceful. He fed her praise, and she responded by turning more sharply toward the river¡¯s edge and swimming more strongly. For an instant, he felt what that extra effort cost her. He felt almost shamed that he asked it of her. ¡°But if I do not, neither of us will survive,¡± he muttered, and felt a shadow of agreement from her.


    As they got closer to the trees, his heart sank. The river had expanded its flow; there was no shore under the eaves of the forest, not even a muddy one. There was only the impenetrable line of trees, their trunks like the bars of a cage that would hold Relpda out in the river. In the shadow of the canopy, the pale water was a quiet lake without shores that spread off into the darkness.


    Only one section of shore offered him hope. In an alcove of the surrounding trees, limbs and logs and branches had been packed together by a back current. All sorts of broken tree limbs and bits of driftwood and even substantial timbers had piled up there in a floating logjam. It didn¡¯t look promising. But once he was there, he could climb out of the water and perhaps dry off before nightfall.


    That was as much as he could offer himself. No hot food and comforting drink, no dry, clean change of clothing, not even a rude pallet on which to lie down; nothing awaited him there but the bare edge of survival.


    And even less for the dragon, he suspected. Whereas the wedged logs and matted driftwood might offer him a place to stand, she had no such hope. She swam with all her energy now, but it would avail her nothing. No hope for her and very little for him.


    Not save me?


    ¡°We¡¯ll try. I don¡¯t know how, but we¡¯ll try.¡±


    For an extended moment, he felt her absence from his mind. He became aware of how his skin stung, how her teeth dug into him. His aching muscles shrieked at him, and cold both numbed and burned him. Then she came back, bringing her warmth and pushing his misery aside.


    Can save you, she announced.


    Affection he could feel enfolded him. Why? he wondered. Why did she care about him?


    Less lonely. You make sense of world. Talk to me. Her warmth wrapped him.


    Sedric drew breath. All his life, he¡¯d been aware that people loved him. His parents loved him. Hest had loved him, he thought. Alise did. He¡¯d known of love and accepted that it existed for him. But never before had he actually felt love as a physical sensation that emanated from another creature and warmed and comforted him. It was incredible. A slow thought came to him.


    Can you feel it when I care about you?


    Sometimes. Her reply was guarded. I know it¡¯s not real, sometimes. But kind words, pretty words, feel good even if not real. Like remembering food when hungry.


    Sudden shame flooded him. He took a slow breath and opened his gratitude to her. He let his thanks flow out of him, that she forgave him for taking her blood, that she had saved him, that she would continue to struggle on his behalf when he could not offer her definite hope of sanctuary.


    As if he had poured oil on a fire, her warmth and regard for him grew. He actually felt his body physically warm, and suddenly her dogged one-two, one-two paddling grew stronger. Together they just might survive. Both of them.


    For the first time in many years, he closed his eyes and breathed a heartfelt prayer to Sa.


    ¡°TAKE YOUR FOOD and get up there. Keep looking,¡± Leftrin told Davvie. ¡°I want you up on top of the deckhouse, scanning in all directions. Look on the water, look for anyone clinging to debris, look at the trees and up in the trees. Keep looking. And keep blowing that horn. Three long blasts and then stop and listen. Then three long blasts again.¡±


    ¡°Yessir,¡± Davvie said faintly.


    ¡°You can do it,¡± Carson said behind him. He gave the exhausted boy a pat on the shoulder that was half a push. The boy snatched up two rounds of ship¡¯s bread and his mug of tea and left the deckhouse.


    ¡°He¡¯s a good lad. I know he¡¯s tired,¡± Leftrin said. It was half apology for treating the boy so gruffly and half thanks for being able to use him.


    ¡°He wants to find them as much as anyone else here. He¡¯ll keep going as long as he can.¡± Carson hesitated, then plunged on with, ¡°What about Tarman? Can he help us with the search?¡±

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    He meant well, Leftrin reminded himself. Nonetheless. He was an old friend, not part of the crew. Some things weren¡¯t spoken of outside that family, not even to old friends. ¡°We¡¯re using the barge in every possible way, Carson, short of having it sprout wings and fly over the river. What can you expect of a ship?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Carson bobbed a nod that he understood and would ask no more. His deference bothered Leftrin almost as much as his question had. He knew he was short-tempered; grief tore at his heart even as he clutched at hope and kept desperately searching. Alise. Alise, my darling. Why did we hold back, if only to lose each other this way?


    It wasn¡¯t just the woman, though Sa knew that overwhelmed him and ruined his brain for cold logic. All the youngsters, every one of them was missing. Every dragon, gone. And Sedric. If he found Alise but had to tell her he had lost Sedric, what would she think of him? And all the dragons gone, and her dreams gone with them. He knew how she felt about the dragons and the keepers. He had failed her, utterly failed her. There could be no good end to this search. None at all.


    ¡°Leftrin!¡±


    He startled at his name and saw by Carson¡¯s face that he¡¯d been trying to talk to him. ¡°Sorry. Too long with no sleep,¡± he said gruffly.


    The hunter nodded sympathetically and rubbed at his own bloodshot eyes. ¡°I know. We¡¯re all tired. We¡¯re damn lucky that tired is all we are. You¡¯re a bit beat up, and Eider may have a few cracked ribs, but by and large, we came through it intact. And we all know that we¡¯ll rest later. For right now, this is what I propose. My boat stayed with the Tarman; luckily I¡¯ve the habit of bringing it aboard and lashing it down each night. I propose I take the spare ship¡¯s horn and set out on my own. I¡¯ll shoot down the river a ways, fast as I can, and then go right along the shore and search under the trees. You follow, but taking your time and searching carefully. Every so often, I¡¯ll blow three long blasts, just like Davvie, to let you know where I am and that I¡¯m still searching. If either of us finds anything, we¡¯ll use three short blasts to call the other.¡±


    Leftrin listened grimly. He knew what Carson was implying. Bodies. He¡¯d be looking for bodies, and for survivors in such poor condition that they could not signal their rescuers. It made sense. Tarman had been proceeding very slowly, first moving up the river to approximately where the wave had first struck them and then back down again, searching both the river¡¯s face and the shoreline. Carson¡¯s little boat could catch the current and shoot swiftly down to where they had begun to search and move downriver from there, searching the shallows.


    ¡°Do you need anyone with you?¡±


    Carson shook his head. ¡°I¡¯d rather leave Davvie safe here with you. And I¡¯ll go alone. If I find anyone, the boat¡¯s small, and I¡¯ll want to bring them on board right away.¡±


    ¡°Three short blasts will mean we¡¯ve found something. Even if it¡¯s only a body?¡±


    Carson thought, then shook his head. ¡°Neither of us can do anything for a body. No sense one of us summoning the other and taking a chance on missing a survivor. I¡¯ll want some oil and one of the big cookpots. If we don¡¯t meet up before nightfall, I¡¯ll pull in, make a fire in the pot, and overnight there. The fire will keep me warm and serve as a beacon to anyone who might see it. And if I find someone near nightfall, I can use the horn and the firepot to guide you to us.¡±


    Leftrin nodded. ¡°Take a good supply of rations and water. If you find anyone, they may be in bad shape. You¡¯ll need them.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, then.¡±


    ¡°Sa¡¯s blessing on you.¡±


    Such words coming from the hunter made Leftrin feel even grimmer. ¡°Sa¡¯s blessing,¡± he replied and watched the man turn and go. ¡°Please, please, find her,¡± he whispered, and then he went back up on deck to put his own eyes on the river.


    As he joined his crew on the deck, he felt their sympathy for him. Swarge, Bellin, Hennesey, and hulking Eider were silent and looked aside from him, as if ashamed they could not give him what he wanted. Skelly came to his side and took his hand. He glanced down at her, seeing his niece for a moment instead of his deckhand when she met his gaze. She gave his rough hand a small squeeze; her pinched mouth and a quick nod of her head let him know that she shared his concern. With no more than that, she left him and went back to her watching post. They are a good crew, he thought with a tight throat. Without a quibble, they had followed him on this jaunt up the river into unknown territory. Part of it was because that was the type of river folk they were: curious, adventurous, and confident of their skills. But a good part of it was that they would go where he and Tarman went. He commanded their lives. Sometimes that knowledge humbled him.

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    He wondered why he had bothered being evasive with Carson. The man was no fool. The crew¡¯s charade would not have fooled him for long. He knew the boat was sentient, and if he¡¯d had any doubts, Tarman¡¯s rescue of Leftrin last night would have dispersed them. When he¡¯d shouted, the barge had come straight to him, and despite the current, had held himself steady in the river until his captain was safe aboard him again.


    Wrapped in a blanket but still dripping, shivering, he¡¯d gone into the galley. ¡°Is Alise all right?¡± he¡¯d demanded, and the faces of his crew had told him all.


    He hadn¡¯t slept since then. And he wouldn¡¯t sleep until he found her.


    THE TANGLE OF floating debris was both too thick and not solid enough.


    Relpda had carried Sedric to it. Once she had got close to it, she had pushed her way into it like a spoon pushing through thick soup. Driftwood and matted brambles, leafy branches and long, dead logs, freshly torn trees and wads of grasses had given way to her shoving and then closed up behind her. Chesting against the mess, she had either judged it solid or close enough, for she had dropped him. He¡¯d fallen from her jaws athwart a couple of floating logs and started to slip between them. His stiff limbs had screamed as he frantically moved them, thrashing and crawling until he was on the larger and thicker of the logs. There he had clung, and he felt how it bobbed in the current. Worse, he felt how it shifted and threatened to break away from the tangled mess along the shoreline as the frantic dragon pawed and bumped at it as she attempted to clamber on top of it.


    ¡°It won¡¯t hold you, Relpda. Stop. Stop tearing it apart. You can¡¯t get on top of this; it¡¯s just floating bits of wood and reeds.¡± He moved away from her to a part of the raft that her struggles were not affecting so violently. He could feel her rising panic coupled with her weariness and despair. She was tired, and he knew guiltily that if she had abandoned him, her reserves of strength would have been much greater. He wondered again why she had saved him at obvious cost to herself.


    Then he wondered why he was doing nothing to save her.


    There was a quick and guilty answer to that. Once she had drowned, she¡¯d be out of his head forever. He¡¯d know his thoughts were completely his own again. When he went back to Bingtown, he could live just as he always had and¡ª


    He thrust his selfishness aside. He was never going back to Bingtown. He was on a raft of debris over an acidic river. He inspected his stinging arms; the exposed skin looked like cured meat. No telling what the rest of him looked like and he was too cowardly to look. A shudder of chill ran over him. He hugged himself and tried to consider the incomprehensible situation he found himself in. Everything he had depended on in this savage place was gone. No ship, no crewmen, no hunters. No supplies of any kind. Alise was probably already dead, her body floating in the river somewhere. Sorrow smote him; he tried to push it aside. He had to clear his mind, or he¡¯d join her.


    What was he going to do? He had no tools, no fire, no shelter, no food, and no knowledge of how to get any of that for himself. He looked at the copper. He¡¯d told her the truth. He had no idea of how he could save her. If the dragon died, the river would wash her away, and then he would die, too. Probably slowly. And alone. With no way to move up or down the river.


    Right now, the dragon represented his only chance at getting out of here. She was his only ally. She¡¯d risked her life for him. And asked so little of him in return.


    Relpda gave a short trumpet, and he looked back at her. She¡¯d pushed her way deeper into the floating wreckage. She¡¯d hooked one of her forelegs over the end of a substantial log and was struggling to lift her other front leg over, but she was at the narrow end of the long, dead tree. As she put her weight on it, the log bobbed under. The log was threatening to slip out from under her and shoot up into the air. And the danger was great that she would sink beneath the floating debris.


    ¡°Relpda, wait. You need to center yourself on the log. Wait. I¡¯m coming.¡± He stared at her situation, trying to think how to remedy it. Sinking dragon, floating wood. He wondered if his weight on the high end of the log would be enough to hold it down while she put the other leg over.


    She didn¡¯t listen to him, of course. She kept giving small hoots of effort while trying to hook her other front leg over the log. Her struggles were tearing at the matted debris. Pieces of it were breaking free from the outer edge and whirling back out into the river¡¯s current.


    He tried again, focused himself at her. ¡°Beauteous one, you must allow me to help you. Be still for a moment. Be still. Let me weight the log down for you. I¡¯m coming now, lovely creature, queen of queens. I am here to serve you. You must not tear the packed wood apart. It might carry you away from me, down the river. Be as still as you can while I think of what to do.¡±

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    He felt a touch of warmth and then a tiny message. Serve me? He felt her relaxing her struggles. It was pitiful, how quickly she put her belief in him. His wet clothes clung and chafed his red skin as he awkwardly moved from log to wedged driftwood to log. None of it was stable, and often he had but a moment to find his next step as his perch sank under him. But he reached the tangled roots of her log and seized hold of them. The log was long enough and he was far enough away from her that he thought his small weight might lever her greater one. He started to climb up on the root mass, to see if her end would rise. Then he realized his error. He needed to lower her end of the log to get it under her, not raise it. He suddenly wished he had more experience with this sort of thing. He¡¯d never been a man who worked with his hands and back, and he¡¯d taken pride in that. His mind and his manners had earned him his keep. But if he didn¡¯t learn, right now, how to help, then his dragon was going to die.


    ¡°Relpda, my glorious copper queen. Be very still. I am going to try to lift my end and shove the log under your chest. When it comes up, it may lift you a bit.¡±


    His scheme worked poorly. Whenever he tried to lift the floating end of the log, whatever he was standing on sank. Once he nearly lost his balance and fell under the floating tangle. He succeeded in moving the log slightly more under her chest, but when he gave up the task, her position was only marginally better than it had been. When she stopped kicking, she sank, but her back and head remained above the water. She fixed her eyes on him. He looked into them. Spinning pools, dark blue against copper. The colors in them were liquid. It reminded him of the shifting colors of her blood in the glass vial. Guilt stabbed him. How had he ever done such a monstrous thing?


    Tired, she mooed at him. The sound beat against his ears, and the sensation of her exhaustion flooded his mind, weakening his knees. He braced himself against it, and he tried to send warmth and encouragement back to her.


    ¡°I know, my queen, my lovely one. But you must not give up. I¡¯m doing my best, and I will help you.¡± His weary mind weighed and discarded options. Push smaller pieces of wood under her. No. They¡¯d simply dislodge. Or he¡¯d fall in.


    She shifted her front feet, seeking a better purchase. The end of the log lifted, splashed down again, and she nearly lost it. More debris broke from the edge of the mat and floated away in the river¡¯s hungry current. ¡°Don¡¯t struggle, lovely one. The log you are on might break free of the others. Stay as still as you can while I think.¡±


    The wave of warmth that flowed through him stilled his worrying. For a moment, he was flushed with pleasure, and he felt a stirring of emotion, like infatuation. As quickly as it had come, it faded. He clenched his hands. What had Alise called it? The dragon glamour. It felt good. Intoxicating and alive. Nearly, he reached after it and willed himself into it. Then she thrashed again, and once more he nearly fell into the water. No. He had to keep his distance and his own mind if he was to help her. A darker reason to stay separate came to him. If he let her join her thoughts too deeply with his thoughts and then she drowned¡ªHe shuddered to think of sharing that experience.


    He looked at the dragon, at the sky to estimate his time, and around at the trees. The trees, he decided, would represent their best chance. It would be hard work, but if he could rearrange the debris so that the current braced the heavier logs tight to the trees, and then get her to move herself there, she might find a sturdier position. He looked at her, waited until she was looking at him, and then tried to push his mental image into her mind. ¡°Lovely queen, I will move wood and make a safer place for you. Until I am finished, do not struggle. Hang there and trust me. Can you do that?¡±


    Slipping.


    ¡°I¡¯ll hurry. Don¡¯t give up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned,¡± someone exclaimed in amused astonishment.


    Sedric spun, his heart leaping with joy at the sound of a human voice. He slipped, caught his balance, and then squinted into the dimness under the trees.


    ¡°Up here.¡± The man¡¯s voice was a hoarse croak.


    He moved his eyes up and saw a man clambering down a tree trunk. His hands gripped the ridges of bark, and he stuck the toes of his boots in the cracks as he came quickly down. It wasn¡¯t until he turned to face him that Sedric recognized him. It was the hunter, the older one. Jess. That was his name. They¡¯d never spoken much. Jess plainly had no use for him, and he¡¯d never explained his one visit to Sedric¡¯s chamber. The man looked terrible, bruised and battered in the face, but he was alive and human and company.


    And, Sedric quickly realized, he was someone who knew how to get food and water, someone who could help him survive. Sa had answered his prayers after all.

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    ¡°How did you get here?¡± he greeted him. ¡°I thought I was the only one left alive.¡± He began immediately to make his way toward the man.


    ¡°By water,¡± Jess said and laughed sourly. His voice was harsh and raspy. ¡°And I shared your cheery thought about survival. Looks like that little quake we had a few days ago saved a second surprise for us.¡±


    ¡°Does something like this happen often?¡± Sedric asked, already feeling his anger rise that no one had warned him.


    Slipping. Distress was plain in the dragon¡¯s rumbled call and in the thought she pushed at him.


    ¡°A change in the water, yes. A flood like this, no. This is a new one for me, but not entirely ill fortune for either of us.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Jess grinned. ¡°Just that fate seems to have not only saved us, but thrown us together with everything we need for a most profitable partnership. For one thing, when I finally kicked my way to the surface, I found a boat caught in the same current that I was. Not my boat, unfortunately, but one that belonged to someone sensible enough to stow his gear tightly.¡± He coughed harshly and then tried to clear his throat. It didn¡¯t help his rough voice. ¡°It has a couple of blankets, some fishing gear, even a fire-making kit and a pot. Greft¡¯s, probably, but I¡¯ll wager that he¡¯ll never have need of it again. That wave hit so hard and so suddenly that it¡¯s hard to believe any of us survived. It almost makes me believe in fate. Maybe the gods threw us together to see how smart we were. Because if you¡¯re a clever fellow, we have everything we need for a very comfortable new life.¡±


    As Jess had croaked out his words, he¡¯d dismounted from the tree¡¯s trunk and stepped onto a log. It bobbed beneath him as it took his weight. For a large man, he was graceful enough as he trod swiftly along its length. In the crook of one arm, he carried several round red fruit. Sedric wasn¡¯t familiar with what they were, but at the sight of them, both his hunger and thirst roared.


    ¡°Do you have water?¡± he asked the man, advancing cautiously across the packed debris toward him. Jess ignored him. It looked as if he reached the end of the large log and then clambered down into the water. Then Sedric realized that the boat was moored out of sight behind the big driftwood snag. Jess disappeared for a moment and when he stood up, he no longer held the fruit. Obviously he had stowed it in the boat he was standing in. A curl of uneasiness moved in Sedric¡¯s belly. The situation seemed plain to him. The hunter had climbed the tree, eaten fruit, and what he had brought down was his surplus that he intended to save. For himself. He must see how serious Sedric¡¯s situation was. Yet he stood there, in his boat, in his dried clothes, with his food, and made no offer of aid to him.


    Jess leaned his elbows on the log that floated between him and Sedric and looked over at him. Sedric halted where he was, trying to make sense of the situation. When Sedric just returned his gaze, Jess cocked his head and wheezed, ¡°I notice you aren¡¯t saying what you¡¯ll bring to our new partnership.¡±


    Sedric goggled at him. They were alone on a raft of ever-shifting flotsam in the middle of the forest, weeks from anywhere, and the man was trying to wring money out of him? It made no sense. Behind him, he heard the dragon thrash, felt a wave of anxiety from her, and then felt her calm as she realized the log was still partially under her. Hungry. His own thoughts about food had stimulated hers. Or perhaps it was her hunger he was feeling. He didn¡¯t know. He couldn¡¯t completely sort himself out from her anymore. Afraid. The thought came to him without a sound from her. Careful. Did she sense something he didn¡¯t?


    He tried to focus his thoughts on the man¡¯s ridiculous statement. ¡°What do you want from me? Look at me, man. I don¡¯t have anything to offer you. Not here. I suppose if somehow we got back to Bingtown¡­¡± He let the words trail off. It wouldn¡¯t be constructive to let him know that if they got back to Bingtown, he¡¯d still have nothing. He tried to imagine facing Hest and admitting that he¡¯d somehow lost Alise and with her Hest¡¯s hope of creating an heir who would assure his inheritance. He dared not think what his own family would think of him, let alone what Alise¡¯s might say. He¡¯d been sent as her protector. What sort of a protector survived when his ward did not? If he went back to Bingtown alone, he¡¯d have no career and no support from his family. He had nothing to offer this pirate.


    ¡°Nothing here, hey? Looks to me like you¡¯ve got plenty here. Do I have to spell it out for you? Or are you still thinking that perhaps you can keep it all for yourself?¡±

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    The hunter stooped out of sight again and then brought up a gear bag from the boat. ¡°Because from where I¡¯m standing, man, if you decide to be greedy, I think you just die.¡± He opened the gear bag, dug through it, and smiled, immensely pleased. ¡°I¡¯m sure this was Greft¡¯s boat now. Look at this. Knife and whet-stone, all bundled nicely together. Could be a bigger tool, but it will still get the job done.¡± As he spoke, he took out both items and began to lay the knife against the stone in slow, leisurely licks, as if they both had all the time in the world.


    Sedric stood very still. What was the man asking of him? Was the gleaming blade a threat? What did he mean, ¡°you¡¯ve got plenty¡±? Was he making a sexual proposition? He¡¯d shown nothing but disdain for Sedric before this. But Jess would not be the first man he¡¯d encountered who publicly despised him and privately desired him. He took a breath. He was hungry and thirsty and the dragon¡¯s nagging anxiety scraped at his nerves and begged his attention. What was he willing to give Jess to ensure his survival? What would he give him to get him to help with Relpda?


    Anything he wanted.


    The thought chilled him, but he accepted it. ¡°Just say what you want,¡± he said brusquely, the words tumbling out more abruptly than he intended.


    Jess stopped whetting the knife and stared at him. Sedric drew himself up tall and crossed his arms on his chest. He met his gaze levelly. Jess cocked his head at him, and then brayed out a coarse laugh. ¡°Not that. No. Not interested one bit in that. Are you stupid or stubborn?¡±


    He waited for Sedric to respond. When he didn¡¯t, Jess shook his head, his smile growing colder. He reached into his shirt, drew out a pouch, and opened it. As he tugged at the strings, he said, ¡°Leftrin was stupid to think I was a fool. I know what happened. He saw a chance for money, and he thought that if he brought in his own people, he could make his deal direct and keep more of the split for himself. Well, I don¡¯t work that way. No one cuts out Jess Torkef.¡± From the pouch, he took something the size of his palm. It was scarlet and ruby. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger and turned it to catch the light. It flashed in the sunlight. ¡°Look familiar?¡± he asked Sedric mockingly and then laughed as first disbelief and then fury flushed Sedric¡¯s face.


    It was the scarlet dragon scale that Rapskal had given Alise. Alise had entrusted it to Sedric, asking him to make a detailed drawing of it. Then she¡¯d forgotten he had it, and he¡¯d added it to his trove. ¡°That¡¯s mine,¡± he said flatly. ¡°You stole it out of my room.¡±


    Jess smiled. ¡°It¡¯s an interesting question. Is it possible to steal from a thief?¡± He turned the scale again, flashing it in the sun. ¡°I¡¯ve had it for days. If you missed it, you covered your anxiety well. I suspect you didn¡¯t even know it was gone. You¡¯re not quite as good at hiding things as you think you are. Most of what I found was disgusting trash, but not this bit. So I took it. Just for safekeeping, of course, to be sure I¡¯d have something to show for this wild goose chase. Looks like it was a good thing I did. Everything else you had is probably at the bottom now.¡±


    Sedric had still not said a word. The hunter took his time putting the red dragon¡¯s scale back in the pouch, closing it, and slipping it back inside his shirt. ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°Looks like we each know what the other is about. And it¡¯s time to consider a new alliance. Leftrin was supposed to be a part of my deal with Sinad Arich. He was supposed to smooth the way and make it easy. But he didn¡¯t. Doesn¡¯t matter. He¡¯s gone now. And it¡¯s down to us. So you have two choices. You can step up and take his place in the deal, and we¡¯ll share. Or don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Leftrin had a deal with you?¡± Sedric¡¯s mind was scrambling to put all the pieces together. What sort of a deal? To rob his passengers?


    Tired, the dragon pleaded in the back of his mind. Not safe.


    Hush. Let me think. Her heavy head was drooping on her weary neck. He appraised her and knew that if he didn¡¯t act, soon her muzzle would be touching the water. Take care of the most pressing issue first. Then puzzle out the rest. To Jess, he said, ¡°Set all this aside for a moment. Can you help me with the dragon? She¡¯s tired and she¡¯s going to sink and drown if I can¡¯t help her float and rest somehow.¡±


    A slow smile spread across the hunter¡¯s face. ¡°Now we¡¯re coming to terms, boy. Of course I¡¯ll help you with the dragon.¡± He lifted the knife and turned it, making the blade flash in the sunlight.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand you,¡± Sedric said in a shaking voice. But abruptly he did.

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    The hunter jerked a thumb toward the copper. ¡°I¡¯m talking about the dragon. There¡¯s plenty there, for both of us. You help me kill it, and butcher it fast before the river claims the carcass. Then we load as much as we can in the boat, and we head back for Trehaug. I know people there, people willing to make a quick profit and not be curious about the source. I can go in during the dark of night and get everything we need for us to make a very comfortable trip down the river on a boat with a crew who won¡¯t ask us any questions. Think about it. Everyone else is dead. Everyone will assume you are dead, which means you don¡¯t have to share with anyone. There will be no pursuit and no questions. Just two very wealthy newcomers living a life of ease in Chalced.¡±


    It was instinctive. He blocked the thought from the dragon¡¯s mind as he would shield the eyes of a child from violence. He tried to. He wasn¡¯t completely successful. He felt her anxiety rise as she sensed his agitation without comprehending the reason for it. She looked at the hunter, recognized him. Food? she queried hopefully.


    ¡°No food. Not yet,¡± he spoke aloud to her without thinking.


    The hunter barked out a hoarse laugh. ¡°And that¡¯s what you¡¯re bringing to the table, my little friend. You can hear her thoughts. And you talk back to the damn things. I can hear them a bit, but I try not to. Easier to be professional about these things if you keep a distance, I think. Though it explains how you got close enough to get as much as you did the first time. Impressed me, I¡¯ll tell you. I¡¯d been trying to figure out how to do it for days. And here some little Bingtown fop just goes ashore and takes what he wants.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Sedric lied. It was a reflex. The hunter hadn¡¯t mentioned the blood. Did he know about the blood? Did any of it matter anymore? The whole conversation was insane. He needed food and water and rest. He needed to know if the man was going to help him or not. He tried to sound as if he were not desperate. ¡°Look, help me with the dragon and give me some of that fruit you have. Anything. I need to eat and rest. Then we can talk about what happens next.¡±


    Jess cocked his head at him and said coldly, ¡°No point to feeding you if you don¡¯t intend to help me. And lying to me seems to be your way of saying you intend to keep it all to yourself. Though how you plan to make it work, I can¡¯t see. Shall I make it easier for you? I was awake that night. I saw you come aboard all bloodied. Been in a fight was my first thought, though I hadn¡¯t heard a peep of a row, and sound carries over water. But then, as you went up the ladder, I got a glimpse of what you were carrying. Glittery red, just like I¡¯d been told. Dragon blood. And I was, as I¡¯ve told you, very impressed. So I followed and in a bit I saw you come out of your cabin and throw your duds overboard. And that made it sure for me. Somehow you¡¯d gotten blood out of a dragon and not been eaten or even caught. You were pretty savvy about hiding it, too. I went through your room more than once before I found your hoard. So. Let¡¯s just admit we¡¯re scoundrels and be honest scoundrels with each other¡­or as honest as scoundrels can be. We both shipped aboard the Tarman for the same reason. And I only shipped because I was promised that Captain Leftrin was going to grease things a bit for me, but I suspect his craze for that woman soured him on our kind of profit. Maybe he was hoping to keep everything for himself, woman, dragon parts to sell in Chalced, everything. Maybe you were the one who offered him a better deal. But the agreement was that he was supposed to help me, and in return, he was going to be well paid for his trouble. Very well paid.¡±


    His voice faded for a moment as he stooped down in the boat. When he came up again, he had a coil of line in his hand. He scowled at it and set it out beside the knife.


    ¡°Instead that son of a dog tried to kill me last night.¡± He lifted his hand and felt about his throat gingerly. He growled and shook his head and went back to setting out his tools. ¡°Double twist of fate, I suppose. That wave that hit kept him from strangling me, and I¡¯m hoping it made an end of him. Love-blind idiot is what he is. Well, with a bit of luck, he¡¯s dead. And you¡¯ve got your luck¡ªyou¡¯re alive.¡± He held up a small hatchet, frowned at it, and then with a thunk seated it in the log beside the line.


    ¡°Bad tool for the job, but you use what you have. A bit like our captain. Leftrin got greedy and lost it all. If he¡¯d lived up to his end of the deal, he could have had the kind of money we¡¯re going to have. Then the ugly old goat could have had any woman he wanted. Well, his loss is our gain. We¡¯ll have it all. Wealth, power, and any sort of woman we want, once we get back to Chalced.¡± He leered at Sedric nastily, baring his little brown teeth, and added, ¡°Or whatever you fancy.¡±

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    He inspected his tools and they met his satisfaction. He set them out in a careful row. ¡°So, you¡¯ll help me. Or you can be stubborn and try to keep it all for yourself. Try that, and I¡¯ll take just what I want. Won¡¯t be as easy without someone to handle the animal for me, keep it calm and lure it to the blade. But I can get more than enough to live the rest of my days as a very rich man.¡± He thumbed the edge of the knife, nodded to himself, and looked directly at Sedric. ¡°Well. Time for a decision. Shall we get on with it?¡±


    Sedric swallowed. Reality seemed to re-form around him. Leftrin had been part of this man¡¯s plan to acquire and sell dragon parts? Then he¡¯d probably just been using Alise all that time. Alise had been duped. And he¡¯d been blind to the machinations going on all around him. He should have guessed. He should have known that he wouldn¡¯t be the only one to see the chance for profit. He¡¯d known all along there had to be some bizarre motive behind the captain¡¯s apparent infatuation. So now what? Did he take the hunter¡¯s offer? Could he coax and calm the dragon until Jess got close enough for a kill?


    The man had set it all out quite plainly. If he helped him, Jess would help him get to Chalced and sell what they had. He didn¡¯t need to go back to Bingtown at all. From Chalced, he could send Hest a message to come and join him. With the kind of money they¡¯d have, there¡¯d be no need for any more pretenses. They could go anywhere they wanted and live exactly as they pleased. He could have everything he¡¯d dreamed of. He¡¯d paid dearly already. Would it be so wrong to take some small measure of happiness for himself?


    Jess was watching him closely. His raspy voice became persuasive, the threat gone from it. ¡°Animal¡¯s going to die anyway. Look at it. It wasn¡¯t a prime specimen to start with, and now it¡¯s going to drown. So you might as well be kind and make the end a quick one and have something to show for your trouble.¡± Jess hung the knife from his belt and gripped the fish spear firmly. He slung the coil of line from his free hand. ¡°Tell her not to struggle, that I¡¯m going to help her,¡± he instructed Sedric in a low voice. ¡°All I need you to do right now is keep her calm. Say I¡¯m putting the rope on her to help her stay afloat. It¡¯s not as long as it could be; I¡¯ll need to get her to move closer to the trees so I can tie it off. Afterward, we¡¯ll have to work fast, before the carcass sinks. We¡¯ll go for the stuff that will keep and bring the most money. Teeth, claws, scales. It¡¯s going to be messy, rough work and you won¡¯t like it. But a little of this now will mean a lot of money later.¡±


    The copper was watching them anxiously. Suspiciously? How much could she really understand? Sedric chided his conscience. The hunter had said she was going to die anyway. Would it be better if she died slowly and her body sank to the bottom of the river for fish to eat? What good would that do anyone? After all he had gone through, didn¡¯t he deserve something for himself, some small bit of happiness? Didn¡¯t he deserve to finally stop living in deceit?


    He kept his eyes on the dragon as Jess edged toward her. She looked back at him. Her eyes swirled as always, but darkness seemed mixed with their blue and gold now. He could feel her questioning him but not sense the fullness of her question. Did that mean she was dying? Was Jess telling the truth when he said it would be a mercy?


    She hung at a slant from the log, one front leg hooked over it. Here at the edge of the river under the trees, the current was not as strong. Beyond her, deeper in the forest, standing water carried shimmers of light into the perpetual gloom. He noted in passing from the high water mark on the tree trunks that the water was starting to recede. But it was not happening quickly, and he doubted it would be soon enough to save her. As he watched, she gave a few feeble kicks of her hind legs, trying to push herself a little higher on the log. She was wearying of holding her head so unnaturally high. She was hungry and thirsty and chilled. Dragons were creatures made for fierce sun and baking sand. The cool water sapped her energy and slowed her heart. He was not imagining it. Her eyes were spinning more slowly. She had never been strong or healthy. He looked at her and the welling of sorrow he felt ambushed him. He blinked his eyes and saw her through the opacity of tears.


    You are leaving me?


    Her childish interpretation of his reaction to their pending separation tore at his heart. He tried to take a breath, only to have it snag on something sharp inside him. Little copper queen. I wish you could have flown.


    I have wings! The weary dragon cocked her head at him. Very slowly, she lifted her wings and opened them partially. They caught the light like hammered metal. They were larger than he would have supposed them, and more delicate. The spiderweb framework stood out against the leathery membrane and feathery scales. The afternoon light shone through them as if they were panes of stained glass.

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    ¡°They are beautiful.¡± He spoke the words aloud, sorrowfully, and felt her bask in the compliment.


    ¡°Beautiful is right. And the leather from them will last hundreds of years, according to the tales. But they¡¯re too big for us to harvest. They¡¯d rot before we got down the river.¡± Jess was edging toward her on a fallen tree. Branches covered in leaves were both impediments and handholds for him as he sidled along it. He halted where he was and laughed aloud at Sedric¡¯s scowl. ¡°Don¡¯t glare at me. You know it¡¯s true. Keep her calm. All the debris has been loosened by her struggling, so the pack isn¡¯t as sturdy here. I don¡¯t want her to knock me into the water and have it close up over my head.¡± He grunted as he worked his way cautiously along the floating tree.


    He paused a man¡¯s length away from her. He was watching the dragon, not Sedric. He knew Sedric had no choice but to help him. ¡°When I get closer, tell her to extend her head toward me. I¡¯ll get a rope around her neck and then I¡¯ll try to lead her in close to one of the big trees. As long as she¡¯s afloat and doesn¡¯t fight me, I should be able to get her where I want her.¡±


    He knew he couldn¡¯t save her. She was going to die. If Jess succeeded, at least her death would be quick. And it would serve a purpose. At least one of them could go on to live a decent life. The hunter would make it quick. He¡¯d said so.


    Danger? Relpda was watching Jess make his final approach. What was she sensing from him?


    The hunter had nearly reached her. He balanced at the thick end of the fallen tree, just short of the upthrust of muddy roots that ended it. He was shaking out the rope and eyeing the dragon as he did so. Sedric marked that he still gripped the fish spear in one hand as he worked. His darting glance went from the dragon to Sedric and back again as he studied her neck and measured out line. ¡°Keep her calm, now,¡± he reminded Sedric. ¡°There¡¯s not a lot of line here. Once I get the rope around her neck, I¡¯m going to have to snub her up pretty close to the tree. But that will keep her head above the water afterward.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t something he was doing. He was here, but he couldn¡¯t stop it from happening. If he tried to intervene, Jess was capable of killing him as well. And what good would that do the dragon? It was her inevitable end. He watched it, feeling that he owed her that much, to witness her end. I¡¯m sorry, he thought at her, and received only confusion in response.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m ready.¡± Jess was holding out a large loop of line. He had the fish spear trapped under his arm as he held the noose to one side of his body. ¡°Tell her to reach her head out toward me. Slowly. Tell her I¡¯m going to help her.¡±


    Sedric took a deep breath. His throat kept closing up. Give in to the inevitable, he counseled himself. ¡°Relpda,¡± Sedric said softly. ¡°Listen to me, now. Listen carefully.¡±


    Day the 19th of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    Enclosed, a message from Trader Wycof to the First Mate Jos Peerson of the liveship Ophelia, soon to dock at Trehaug, informing him of the birth of twin daughters to his wife on this day.


    Detozi,


    An illness in my family has forced me to postpone all thoughts of leaving Bingtown at this time. My father is seriously ill. I fear that my hopes of visiting the Rain Wilds and finally meeting you must be put off for the time being. I am disappointed.


    Have you yourself ever considered a visit to Bingtown? I am sure your nephew would be very pleased by such a visit.


    Erek


    CHAPTER SEVEN


    RESCUE


    Night had been every bit as miserable as Thymara had feared it would be. The keepers had banded together to build a sort of platform, layering drift logs in alternating angles on top of one another. Leafy branches were torn down to provide cushioning over the bumpy logs. The resulting ¡°raft¡± had not been sturdy, but there had been room for them to huddle together and commiserate while the mosquitoes and gnats feasted on them. There was no flat place to sleep, so Thymara had balanced her body on one of the wider logs. She had considered taking to the trees for the night but had finally decided to stay closer to the dragons and the other keepers. Every time she started to doze off, Alum¡¯s dragon would trumpet mournfully and she¡¯d rouse. Too many times that night, tears had followed. The small sounds she heard from the others on the raft told her that she was not alone in her fears. Toward morning, not even the sorrow and sounds, let alone the buzzing, bites, and branch nubs could keep Thymara alert any longer. She had dozed down past the nightmares and grief to a deep sleep and had awakened chill and stiff and damp with morning dew.

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    The flooding was subsiding slowly. The high waterline on the nearby tree trunks was now shoulder-high on her. Next to her, Alise slept deeply, curled in a ball. Tats was just beyond her, breathing huskily. Jerd, she noted, slept tucked into the curve of Greft¡¯s body. For a moment, she envied them the warmth they shared and then dismissed the thought. That wasn¡¯t for her. Boxter and Nortel were perched on the edge of the platform, staring out at the flooded forest and talking softly. The dragons were hunched on their log perches. They looked uncomfortable and precarious, but they were sleeping heavily. The chill of the water and the deep shade of the trees had plunged them into deep lethargy. They probably wouldn¡¯t stir until midmorning, or later.


    Thymara nudged Sylve and whispered, ¡°I¡¯m going to see if I can find us some food,¡± and then picked her way through her sleeping comrades. Log by log, she clambered over the pack of floating debris to the closest major tree trunk. It had no branches within reach, but her claws served her well as she scaled it. It was strange how good it felt to be back in the trees again. Safer. She might still be hungry, thirsty, and insect bitten, but the trees had always befriended and sheltered her.


    She had not gone far when the forest rewarded her for her efforts. She found a trumpet vine and drank the nectary water from the blossoms with only a small twinge of guilt. She had no way to carry the meager mouthful that each flower offered her. She¡¯d drink now, renew her own strength, and hope she¡¯d find something she could transport back to her friends. There was not really enough liquid to quench her thirst, but at least her tongue no longer felt like leather. When she had emptied every flower, she climbed on.


    The exertion required a different use of her arms and shoulders than she had become accustomed to, and soon the injury on her back began to leak fluid again. It did not hurt as much as it had, though she could feel the skin pull every time she reached for a new handhold. The tickle of liquid down her spine was distracting and annoying, but there was nothing she could do about it. Twice she saw birds that would have been easy prey for her if she¡¯d had a bow, and once she hastily dropped down to a lower limb and changed trees when she came across a large constrictor snake who lifted his head and eyed her with interest. At that moment, she decided that her decision to sleep on the raft instead of in the trees had been a good one.


    She was looking for a good horizontal branch to allow her to cross to another tree when she encountered Nortel. He was sitting on the branch that was her chosen path, and from the way he greeted her, she suspected he¡¯d seen her and watched her progress down the trunk.


    ¡°Find anything to eat?¡± he asked her.


    ¡°Not yet. I got some water from a trumpet vine, but I haven¡¯t found any fruit or nuts yet.¡±


    He nodded slowly, then asked her, ¡°Are you alone?¡±


    She shrugged and wondered why his question made her uncomfortable. ¡°Yes. Everyone else was asleep.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well, you were talking to Boxter. And I like to hunt and forage alone. I always have.¡± She took another step toward him, but he made no sign of moving to allow her to pass him on the branch. It was wide enough that he could easily have moved to one side. Instead, he remained perched where he was, looking up at her. She didn¡¯t know Nortel well; she¡¯d never realized his eyes were green. He was not as scaled as most of the other boys, and what he did have, around his eyes, was very fine. When he blinked, his lashes caught the light and sparked silver at her.


    After a long moment, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Rapskal. I know you two were close.¡±


    She looked away from him. She was trying not to think of Rapskal and Heeby and whether they had died quickly or struggled for a long time in the water. ¡°I¡¯ll miss him,¡± she said. Her voice went thick and tight on the words. ¡°But today is today, and I need to see what food I can find. May I get past you, please?¡±


    ¡°Oh. Of course.¡± Instead of just sliding to one side, he stood up. He was taller than she was. He turned sideways on the branch and motioned that she should edge past him. She hesitated. Was there a challenge in how he stood there or was she imagining it?


    She decided she was being silly. She edged past him, sliding her feet and facing him as she did so. She was halfway past him when he shifted slightly. She dug her toenails into the bark of the branch and hissed in alarm. He immediately caught her by the arms and held her facing him. His grip on her arms was firm, and she was closer to him than she wanted to be. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let you fall,¡± he promised her, his face solemn. His green eyes bored down into hers.

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    ¡°I wasn¡¯t about to fall. Let go.¡±


    He didn¡¯t. They were frozen in a tableau, looking at each other. A struggle would almost certainly mean that one or both of them would fall. The smile on his face was warm, the look in his eyes inviting.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting angry. Let go now.¡±


    The warmth faded from his eyes, and he granted her request. But he slid his hand down her arm before he lifted it away. She hopped past him, resisting the urge to give him a slight shove as she did so.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to make you angry,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­well, Rapskal is gone. And I know you¡¯re alone now. So am I.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always been alone,¡± she told him furiously and then strode off along the branch. She wasn¡¯t fleeing, she reminded herself, only leaving him behind. When she reached the next trunk, she went up it more quickly than a lizard and refused to look back to see if he was watching her climb. Instead, she concentrated on climbing higher, heading for the upper reaches of the canopy where more sunlight increased the chances of finding fruit.


    Fortune favored her. She found a bread leaf vine parasitizing a handprint tree. The fat yellow leaves didn¡¯t offer much flavor, but they were filling and crisp with moisture as well. For a time, she perched and ate her fill, then tore several trailing strings of leaves from it. She wound the vines into a loose wreath and put them around her neck hanging down her back.


    She started back down and on the way saw a sour pear tree only a few trunks away. She crossed to it. The fruit was past its prime and slightly wrinkly, but she doubted her friends would be fussy. With no other way to carry it, she filled the front of her shirt and then went more slowly, trying to avoid crushing the food she carried. When she reached the tree by the river¡¯s edge and climbed down to the flotsam raft, she was surprised to find that many of the keepers were still sleeping. Tats was awake; he and Greft were trying to kindle a small fire at the root end of one of the big snags. A thin tendril of smoke wound up into the morning air. As she approached, she saw Sylve and Harrikin crouched at the edge of the packed driftwood. She watched as Sylve reached out with a long stick and then dragged something closer. It wasn¡¯t until she was near that she realized they were pulling dead fish from the river. Harrikin was cleaning them, sticking a claw in each belly, slitting it open, and scooping out the guts before adding it to the row of fish beside him.


    ¡°Where are the dragons?¡± she called anxiously to them.


    Sylve turned to her and gave her a weary smile. ¡°There you are! I thought I¡¯d dreamed you telling me you were going hunting, but then you were gone when I woke all the way. The acid run killed a lot of fish and other creatures. The dragons have moved upriver. They¡¯ve discovered an eddy full of carrion and are eating their fill. I¡¯m glad there¡¯s something for them. They¡¯re tired from treading water and so much swimming, but at least they won¡¯t be hungry after this. Even Mercor was beginning to be bad-tempered, and I was afraid a couple of the bigger males were going to fight this morning.¡±


    ¡°Did Sintara go with them?¡±


    ¡°They all went, each more jealous than the next, to be sure of getting a fair share. What did you bring?¡±


    ¡°Bread leaf and sour pear. My shirt is full of sour pear. I couldn¡¯t think of any other way to carry them.¡±


    Sylve laughed. ¡°We¡¯ll be glad to have them, no matter how you got them here. Greft and Tats are trying to get enough of a fire going that we can cook the fish. If it doesn¡¯t work, I suppose raw will have to do.¡±


    ¡°Better than nothing, certainly.¡±


    Harrikin had been quiet through their conversation. He was never much of a talker. The first time she had seen him, he had reminded her of a lizard. He was long and slender, and much older than Sylve, but she seemed very comfortable with him. Thymara had not realized that he, too, had claws, until she watched him using them. He looked up from his task, caught her eyes on his hands, and nodded an acknowledgment to her.


    A little silence fell over the group. Unanswered questions were answered by it. No one spoke of Rapskal, and in the distance, she heard Alum¡¯s dragon give a long, anxious cry. Arbuc still called for his missing keeper. Warken¡¯s red dragon, Baliper, held his mourning silence. The remaining keepers were still marooned on a raft of floating debris. Nothing had changed. Thymara wondered in passing what would become of them if their dragons abandoned them here. Would they? Did the dragons need them any longer? What if they decided to travel on without them?


    She looked up to see Tats coming toward them and wondered if she looked as bad as he did. His skin was scalded red from the river water, and his hair stuck up in tufts. The water had attacked his clothing as well, mottling the already-worn shirt and trousers. He looked haggard, but he still managed to put on a smile for her. ¡°What are you wearing?¡± he asked her.

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    ¡°Our breakfast. Bread leaf and sour pear. Looks like you have a fire going for the fish.¡±


    He glanced back to the little blaze that Greft tended. Jerd had come from somewhere to join him. She leaned against him quietly as he broke dry bits of root from the end of the snag and fed it to the small fire he¡¯d kindled in the main nest of roots. ¡°It wasn¡¯t easy to get it going. And the fear is that if we succeed too well, it may spread to the rest of the debris pack and send us fleeing again. We don¡¯t have much security here, but at least we¡¯re still afloat.¡±


    ¡°And the water is going down. But if we must, we would take to the trees. Here. Hold your shirt out.¡±


    Tats lifted the front of his shirt to form a sling, and Thymara reached down her own shirt front to extract the sour pears she had carried inside her shirt against her belly. The wrinkled fruit were no relation to true pears, but she had heard that the flavor was similar. When she had emptied her shirt into his, she followed him back to Greft¡¯s fire. She feared there would be awkwardness when she got there, comments or mockery, but Jerd only turned away from her while Greft said simply, ¡°Thanks. Any chance of more?¡±


    ¡°These are past the season, but I could probably find more on the tree. And where one bread leaf vine grows, there are usually others.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know. Until we know more of our situation, we¡¯re going to have to manage whatever food we can acquire carefully.¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s plenty of dead fish floating in the river. The current is pushing the floaters up against the debris pack.¡± This was from Sylve. She and Harrikin carried a line of fish suspended by a stick shoved through their gills.


    ¡°They won¡¯t be good much more than a day or so,¡± Harrikin observed quietly. ¡°The acid in the water is already softening them. We probably shouldn¡¯t try to eat the skin, only the meat.¡±


    Thymara removed her garland of bread leaf vine and began to strip the leaves from them methodically. Tats had already divvied the fruit into piles. Now he began to deal the leaves out as well. With the fish, each keeper would have an adequate breakfast. There was no sense worrying about dinner just yet.


    Greft seemed to have the same thought. ¡°We should hold some food back for later,¡± he suggested.


    ¡°Or we can give each keeper a share and tell them, ¡®that¡¯s it for the day, ration yourself,¡¯¡± Tats countered.


    ¡°Not everyone will have the self-discipline to be wise about it,¡± Greft spoke the words, but it didn¡¯t sound like an argument. Thymara suspected they were continuing an earlier discussion.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think any one of us has the authority to ration the food,¡± Tats said.


    ¡°Not even if we¡¯ve provided it?¡± Greft pushed.


    ¡°Thymara!¡±


    She turned her head to Alise¡¯s voice. The Bingtown woman teetered awkwardly along one of the logs. Thymara winced to look at her. Her face was pebbled with blisters and her red hair was a tangled mat that dangled halfway down her back. Always before, Alise had been so clean and well groomed. ¡°Where did you go?¡± she demanded when she was still most of a log away.


    ¡°Out to look for food.¡±


    ¡°By yourself? Isn¡¯t that dangerous?¡±


    ¡°Not usually. I almost always hunt or gather alone.¡±


    ¡°But what about wild animals?¡± Alise sounded genuinely concerned for her.


    ¡°Up where I travel, I¡¯m one of the larger creatures. As long as I watch out for the big snakes, tree cats, and little poisonous things, I¡¯m pretty safe.¡± She thought briefly of Nortel. No. She didn¡¯t intend to mention that incident at all.


    ¡°There are other dangers besides wild animals,¡± Greft observed darkly.


    Thymara glanced at him in annoyance. ¡°I¡¯ve been moving through the trees all my life, Greft, and usually much higher in the canopy than I went today. I¡¯m not going to fall.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not worried about you falling,¡± Tats said in a quiet voice.


    ¡°Then someone should say plainly what he is worried about,¡± Thymara observed sourly. They seemed to be talking about her and deliberately making the words go past her without meaning.


    Greft glanced at Alise and away. ¡°Perhaps later,¡± he said, and Thymara saw Alise bridle. His words and look had pointed her out as an outsider, someone not to be brought into keeper affairs. Whatever it was that was chafing him, Thymara already wanted to defy whatever older, male wisdom he intended to inflict on her. From the look on Jerd¡¯s face, he had annoyed her as well. She shot Thymara a look that was full of venom, but Thymara could not master the coldness to be angry at her. Grief for her missing dragon had ravaged Jerd. Her tears had left scarlet tracks down her face. Impulsively, she addressed her directly.

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    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Veras. I hope she manages to rejoin us. There are already so few female dragons.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Greft said, as if that proved some point for him.


    But Jerd looked at her, weighed her comment, and decided Thymara was sincere. ¡°I can¡¯t feel her. Not clearly. But it doesn¡¯t feel like she¡¯s gone, either. I¡¯m afraid that she¡¯s injured somewhere. Or just disoriented and unable to find her way back to us.¡±


    ¡°It will be all right, Jerd,¡± Greft said soothingly. ¡°Don¡¯t distress yourself. It¡¯s the last thing you need right now.¡±


    This time both Thymara and Jerd shot him furious looks.


    ¡°I¡¯m only thinking of you,¡± he said defensively.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m thinking and speaking about my dragon,¡± Jerd replied.


    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯d best get the fish cooking before the fire burns too low,¡± Sylve suggested, and the alacrity with which the fish were taken up and fixed on wooden skewers over the fire attested to how uncomfortable the near quarrel was making everyone.


    ¡°Have you asked the other dragons if they can feel her?¡± Sylve asked Jerd as they began to ferry the cooked fish and other foods from the fire to the main raft. Boxter had found shelf mushrooms and onion-moss to share, welcome additions to an otherwise bland meal.


    Jerd shook her head mutely.


    ¡°Well, my dear, you should!¡± Alise smiled at her. ¡°Sintara and Mercor would be the best ones to approach with this. I¡¯ll ask Sintara for you, shall I?¡±


    The words were said so innocently, with such a hopeful helpfulness. Thymara bit down on her anger. ¡°Do you really think so?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Why wouldn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Well, because she is Sintara,¡± Thymara replied, and Sylve laughed.


    ¡°I know what you mean. Just when I think I understand Mercor and that he will do any simple favor I ask of him, he asserts he is a dragon and not my plaything. But I think he might help with this.¡±


    Jerd struggled for a moment and then asked quietly, ¡°Would you ask him, then? I didn¡¯t think to ask the other dragons. It just seemed to me that I should know if she is alive or dead. I should be able to feel it, without help.¡±


    ¡°Are you that close to Veras?¡± Thymara asked and tried not to let envy creep into her voice.


    ¡°I thought I was,¡± Jerd said quietly. ¡°I thought I was.¡±


    ALISE LOOKED AROUND the circle of dragon keepers. In her hands, she held two broad, thick leaves topped with a piece of partially cooked fish. A mushroom and a tangle of shaggy greenery topped the fish. She balanced a fruit that Thymara had called a ¡°sour pear¡± on her leg. They¡¯d given her the same share that any other keeper had received. She¡¯d slept alongside them and now ate with them, but she knew that, despite her efforts, she was not one of them. Thymara did not make as much of their differences as the others did, but the girl still deferred to her in a way that kept her at a distance. She felt that Greft resented her, but if she¡¯d had to say why, the only reason she would come up with was that she was not of the Rain Wilds. It made her feel desperately alone.


    And being so useless did not make it any easier.


    She envied how quickly the others seemed to have adapted and then reacted to their situation. They shifted their lives and responded to recover from the disaster so quickly that she felt both old and inflexible in comparison. And they spoke so little of their losses. Jerd wept, but she did not endlessly rant. The calm the keepers showed seemed almost unnatural. She wondered if it was the response of people who had grown up with near disaster at every turn. Quakes were not a rarity to them, any more than they were to the people of Bingtown. But all knew that in the Rain Wilds, quakes were more dangerous. So many of the Rain Wilders worked underground, salvaging Elderling artifacts as they unearthed the buried halls and chambers of the ancient cities. Cave-ins and collapses were sometimes triggered by quakes; had the keepers been inured to loss from an early age?


    She wished they had been less reticent. She wanted to howl at the moon, to shake and rant, to weep hopelessly and fall apart. She longed to talk about the Tarman and Captain Leftrin, to ask if they thought the ship had survived, to ask if they expected the captain to come searching. As if talking about rescue could make it a reality! It would have been strangely comforting to discuss it all, over and over. Yet in the face of all these youngsters simply dealing with this disaster, how could she?


    She picked the steaming fish apart with her fingers and ate it with bites of the mushroom and strands of the onion-moss. It did, indeed, have the flavor of onions. When she finished, she ate the ¡°plate¡± it had been served on. The bread leaf was untrue to its name; there was nothing of ¡°bread¡± about it. It was thick and starchy and crisp, but to her palate, unmistakably vegetable. When she finished it, she was still hungry. The sour pear at least helped her with her thirst. Despite its wrinkled skin, the fruit was juicy. She ate it right down to its core and only wished there was more.

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    Yet with every bite, her thoughts were elsewhere. Was Leftrin all right? Had the Tarman weathered the wave? Poor Sedric would be frantic with worry about her. Were they looking for them right now? She wanted to believe that, wanted to believe it so desperately that she realized she hadn¡¯t been exerting herself to better their situation. Captain Leftrin and the Tarman would come to rescue them. Ever since Sintara had plucked her out of the water, she¡¯d believed that.


    ¡°When the water goes down, do you think there will be solid land here?¡± she asked Thymara.


    Thymara swallowed her food and considered the question. ¡°The water is going down, but we won¡¯t know about land until it goes all the way down. Even if there is land, it will be mud for some time. Floods come up quickly in the Rain Wilds, and go away slowly, because the earth is already saturated with water. We won¡¯t be able to walk on it, if that is what you are thinking. Not for any great distance.¡±


    ¡°So. What are we going to do?¡±


    ¡°For now? For now, those of us who can forage or hunt will. The others will do what they can to make things more comfortable here. And when the water goes down, well, then we¡¯ll see what else is to be done.¡±


    ¡°Will the dragons want to continue our journey?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll want to stay here,¡± Tats said. Alise realized he was not the only one listening in on their conversation. Most of the keepers within earshot were focused on his words. ¡°There¡¯s nothing for them here. They¡¯ll want to move on, if they can. With us or without us.¡±


    ¡°Can they survive without us?¡± The question came from Boxter.


    ¡°Not easily, not well. But they¡¯ve mostly led the way, and mostly found the resting places each night. They¡¯ve learned to hunt a bit. They¡¯re stronger and tougher now than when we started. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, but none of this journey has been easy for them. I don¡¯t say they¡¯d choose to go on without us.¡±


    Tats paused. Alise waited, but Thymara was the one to continue his thought. ¡°But if we cannot go on with them, if we have no way to accompany them, then they¡¯ll really have no choice. Food will run short here for them. They¡¯ll have to leave us.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t they carry us?¡± Alise asked. ¡°Sintara rescued Thymara and me and carried both of us to safety. It wasn¡¯t easy for her to swim with us. But if they were wading through the shallows as they usually do¡­¡±


    ¡°No, they wouldn¡¯t,¡± Greft decided.


    ¡°It would compromise their dignity too much,¡± Thymara said quietly. ¡°Sintara saved us. But to her, that is different from acting as a beast of burden and carrying us along.¡±


    ¡°Mercor might carry me,¡± Sylve injected. ¡°But he has a different nature from the others. He is kinder to me than most of the dragons are to their keepers. Sometimes I feel like he is the eldest of them, even though I know he came out of his case on the same day.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps because he remembers more,¡± Alise dared to suggest. ¡°He seems very wise to me.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Sylve agreed and for the first time shared a shy smile.


    ¡°If the dragons go on without us, what becomes of us?¡± Nortel asked suddenly. He had moved closer to Thymara. He seemed focused on the discussion, but his proximity still made her uncomfortable.


    ¡°We survive as best we can,¡± Tats said. ¡°Right here. Or in whatever place we can find.¡±


    ¡°It would not be so different from how Trehaug was founded,¡± Greft pointed out. ¡°The original population of the Rain Wilds were forcibly marooned here by the ships that were supposed to help them find a good spot to start a colony. Of course, there were more of them, but still, it¡¯s similar.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you try to return to Trehaug?¡± Alise asked. ¡°You have three boats.¡± To her, it seemed the obvious course of action, if the dragons abandoned them. It would be an arduous trek, either slogging through mud and swamp or traveling through the trees, but at least safety beckoned at the end.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Greft said quietly. ¡°Not even if we had enough boats to carry us all and paddles to steer them.¡±


    ¡°Nor I,¡± Jerd echoed him. After a moment, with a small catch in her throat, she added, ¡°I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    Alise watched as Greft took her hand. Jerd turned her head away from him and looked out across the water. Alise noticed unwillingly that some of the keepers openly spied on the two while others looked away. Plainly they were a couple, and it was equally plain that this bothered some of the keepers. Thymara watched them, her eyes hooded and her thoughts private.

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    ¡°That¡¯s a decision that¡¯s a long ways from now,¡± Tats declared. ¡°I¡¯m more concerned about what we¡¯re going to do today and tonight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going foraging,¡± Thymara said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯m good at.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you, to help carry,¡± Tats declared. Across the circle, several of the young men glanced at him and then away. Nortel looked down, glowering. Boxter looked thoughtful. Greft opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. Then he said, ¡°A good plan,¡± but Alise was certain that was not what he had originally planned to say.


    ¡°Is there any way that we can have a fire tonight?¡± Sylve asked. ¡°The smoke might keep off some of the insects, and the fire might be a beacon if anyone is trying to find us.¡±


    ¡°I could help with that,¡± Alise declared instantly. ¡°We could construct a little raft, like the sleeping raft, only smaller, and put the fire on that, so there¡¯d be no chance of it spreading to where we¡¯re sleeping. We could tether it with some of these creepers.¡± She leaned over and picked up one of the bread leaf vines, now stripped of food. ¡°We¡¯d need more, of course.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll bring back more vines,¡± Tats volunteered.


    ¡°Harrikin and I can dive for mud. If we can find a way to bring it up, we¡¯ll plaster mud on the fire platform, and it will last longer,¡± Lecter said.


    ¡°But the water¡¯s so acid!¡± Alise objected, thinking of their eyes. Both of the youths were so scaled she didn¡¯t think their skin would take much harm.


    ¡°It¡¯s not so bad.¡± Lecter shrugged his spiny shoulders. ¡°Acid level is going down all the time. Sometimes it¡¯s like that after a quake. Big gush of acid water, then back to almost normal.¡±


    Almost normal was still enough to scald Alise¡¯s skin, but she nodded. ¡°Build a platform, plaster it with mud, gather the driest wood we can find, and braid a good tether so it doesn¡¯t get away from us. That¡¯s a lot to get done before nightfall.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like we have an alternative,¡± Boxter observed.


    ¡°Thymara. Do you want help with your gathering?¡± Nortel threw the question out almost as a challenge.


    ¡°If I need any, I have Tats,¡± the girl replied.


    ¡°I can climb better than him,¡± Nortel asserted.


    ¡°You only think so,¡± Tats responded instantly. ¡°I can give her any help she needs.¡±


    Thymara glanced from Tats to Nortel and her face darkened. For a moment, her scales seemed to stand out more vividly. Then she said flatly, ¡°The truth is, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll need help from either of you. But Tats can come with me if he wishes. I¡¯m leaving now, while the light is good.¡±


    She stood as she spoke, flowing effortlessly to her feet, and strode off toward the forest without looking back. To Alise, she seemed almost to dance across the floating logs between her and the closest tree trunks. Once she reached one, she went up as quickly as a lizard. Tats followed her, and it seemed to Alise that he struggled hard to match her speed as his human hands found grips on the rough bark of the tree.


    As Nortel rose, Greft spoke. ¡°Nortel, we could use you here, to help put the fire raft together.¡±


    Nortel froze. He said flatly, ¡°I intend to go foraging for food.¡±


    ¡°See that food is all you forage for. We are a small group, Nortel. We cannot quarrel among ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Tell that to Tats,¡± he said and then walked away. He chose a different tree trunk for his ascent, but Alise suddenly feared for Thymara and wished she could go after them. Something had changed in the group, and she wasn¡¯t sure what it was. She glanced at Greft, but he did not meet her eyes. Instead he said, ¡°Today is clear and tonight probably will be as well. But there is no telling what weather tomorrow may bring. We¡¯re uncomfortable enough without being wet. Let¡¯s see if we can make a shelter.¡±


    Alise felt as if she had been plunged into the intimate affairs of an extended family she didn¡¯t know well. There were currents here she hadn¡¯t suspected, and she abruptly wondered what her status was as an intruder. Thymara was the only one she felt she knew at all. She glanced at Sylve; the girl had at least smiled at her. As if she felt the older woman¡¯s eyes, Sylve turned to her and said quietly, ¡°Let¡¯s go build our fire platform.¡±


    ¡°TELL HER TO extend her head toward me!¡± Jess barked at him. He was perched at the end of the log, holding his makeshift noose open. ¡°I can¡¯t get this around her neck if she doesn¡¯t reach her head toward me.¡±

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    The log Sedric was standing on shifted slightly under him, and he felt a moment of vertigo. He looked up at the noose and tried to make a firm decision. Abruptly, he gave his head a shake, snapping himself out of that peculiar drifting state the dragon could put him in. Just end it. She¡¯d be dead, he¡¯d have his mind to himself and a fortune in his pocket. He could have Hest. If he still wanted him after all this.


    That last thought shocked him. Of course he wanted Hest. He¡¯d always wanted Hest, hadn¡¯t he? Wasn¡¯t Hest and the love he felt for him what all this was about? He cleared his throat. The love he¡¯d felt¡­


    ¡°Relpda.¡±


    She swung her swirling gaze to him.


    Jess shook the noose out larger. Sedric could see his intent now. Noose her, snub the line off, and kill her. It wasn¡¯t going to be pretty or easy. Before she died, she would know he had betrayed her. He¡¯d feel the pain of that, her anger and reproach, right alongside the pain of her death. She¡¯d saved his life. And his thanks to her was that he was going to profit from her death.


    The price was too high. Hest wasn¡¯t worth it.


    The shock of that realization jolted him; no time to dwell on it.


    He reached toward the dragon, mind and heart. Relpda, get away from Jess. Don¡¯t let him get near you. He wants to kill you! He dared not speak aloud to her.


    Kill? Alarm. And confusion. She hadn¡¯t understood. The exhausted dragon clung to the log and stared up at her executioner. Her eyes spun faster suddenly, but she made no move to get away. It was too much for her, he¡¯d tried to put too much information in the thoughts he sent her. Keep it simple. And have some courage!


    ¡°Relpda, get away! Flee! Don¡¯t let him near you. Danger. Danger from him!¡±


    Danger? Hunter bring food. Run away? Too tired.


    He¡¯d tipped his hand to the hunter, and it still wasn¡¯t going to be enough to save her. Jess¡¯s teeth showed in a snarl as he turned toward Sedric. ¡°You damn little fop! I was going to make it quick for her. Well, you¡¯ve spoiled that and now you¡¯ll both pay.¡±


    The hunter was quick. He dropped the noose and shifted his grip to the fish spear. It was a small weapon; it couldn¡¯t possibly hurt her. Please, Sa! ¡°Relpda, get away! Go now!¡±


    Sedric was already in motion, but he knew he¡¯d never get there in time. He grabbed a stick floating in the water and flung it at Jess. Not even close. The hunter laughed aloud, then drew back the spear and plunged it into the dragon.


    A blast of pain shot through Sedric. It stabbed him in the top of his shoulder, and his left arm suddenly went numb. He stumbled and went down, one of his legs slipping between the floating pieces of wood. His frantic snatch at a log kept him from going under completely. He bit his tongue, and strangely the one pain drove the other way. The log bucked, but he got a leg over it and struggled up from the water, looking around wildly. Everything was happening too fast.


    Relpda trumpeted shrilly. The fish spear stuck out of her, and brilliant scarlet blood was sheeting over her scaled shoulder. Her wings were half open and she flapped them, splashing feebly as she struggled to keep her sliding grip on the log. The hunter was in the water. One of her flailing wings must have hit him and knocked him in. Good. But he had already caught hold of a log and was starting to drag himself up. In another moment he¡¯d be on the raft with them. Sedric knew he couldn¡¯t fight him. The man was too big, too strong, too experienced. Weapon, weapon! The hatchet! The hatchet by the boat.


    Sedric danced across the wildly rocking wood in a frantic race for the boat. If he had not been terrified, he would have crossed the debris raft on his hands and knees. But faced with imminent death, he leaped and dashed like a scalded cat, traversing logs that bobbed and tried to roll, leaping wildly from one to the next. Jess seemed instantly to divine Sedric¡¯s intention. He hauled himself up, cursing and spitting, and hurled himself in furious leaps across the packed driftwood. Twice the hunter went down between logs and hauled himself up again, and still he managed to stand suddenly between Sedric and the small boat, a knife held blade out and low in his dripping right hand. Water streamed from his hair and down the sides of his scaled face as he promised Sedric, ¡°I¡¯m going to cut you and string your guts across this driftwood pack and leave you to die here.¡±


    I¡¯m sorry. Please don¡¯t kill me. I just want to live. I couldn¡¯t let you kill her. His mind flipped through a hundred things to say and discarded them all as useless.


    Flee! Flee! the copper trumpeted at him. It seemed an excellent idea and perfectly aligned with Sedric¡¯s own impulse, but he dared not turn his back on the man. If he was going to die, it wasn¡¯t going to be with a knife in his back. He heard an immense splash as Relpda lost her precarious perch on the log and went under. Cold, wet, dark, no air. For that instant, Sedric froze.

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    Jess dived at him, knife leading the way, and it was the man¡¯s spring forward on the floating log that propelled Sedric¡¯s sudden sideways lurch. The knife, hand, and man went past him, not meeting the expected resistance. It was the impulse of a moment to put his hand on Jess¡¯s back and shove as the hunter plunged past him. The hunter stepped off the log, onto the floating mat of driftwood. For a moment the tangled morass of weeds and wood held him up and then he dropped down through it with a furious shout. He flung his arms wide and splayed them out on the floating branches, twigs, and moss clumps. Somehow he stayed above water, cursing at Sedric, unable to clamber out.


    In two steps, Sedric was in the boat. He¡¯d thought it would feel solid under him. Instead, as he jumped into it, it lurched and bucked. He fell, knees down, onto the thwarts, catching his ribs painfully. Safe. Safe in the boat. Where was the hatchet? And where was Relpda? ¡°Dragon, where are you?¡± he shouted. He stood up on his knees, looking all around. To his horror, he could not feel her. And Jess had vanished, too. Was he drowning under the mat? It was hard to feel sorry for him.


    Suddenly, like a vengeful water spirit, Jess shot up and out of the water right next to the small boat. He caught hold of the side. As he dragged himself up, the boat heeled over and Sedric cried out in terror that he¡¯d be spilled into the stinging water again. Instead, the big wet man levered himself into the boat. Sedric immediately tried to abandon the small ship, but Jess tackled him around the legs. He fell hard, slamming his ribs and belly against the edge of the boat and the driftwood log it was tied to. The hunter grabbed him by the back of his shirt and his hair, jerked him back into the boat, and hit him, hard, in the face.


    Other than some boyish scuffles, Sedric had never been in a real fight. Sometimes Hest was rough with him, when he was in a mood to take their engagement in a harsher direction and enforce his dominance. In their early days together, Sedric had been aroused by such rough play. But in the last year or so, Hest had seemed to reserve it for times when Sedric had displeased him in some other arena. There had been a few times when the thrill of feeling Hest¡¯s aggression had changed into the dread that his lover would do real damage to him in the throes of his tigerish play. Worse, Hest seemed to relish waking that fear in Sedric. Once, Hest had throttled him nearly unconscious yet had not paused in his own pursuit of pleasure. It was only when he had rolled away from him that Sedric had been able to shift to where he could get a clear breath. With black spots dancing before his eyes, he¡¯d gasped out, ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°To see what it would be like, of course. Stop whining. You¡¯re not hurt; you¡¯ve just had your feelings ruffled.¡±


    Hest had risen and left him there. And Sedric had accepted Hest¡¯s judgment that he wasn¡¯t truly hurt. The recollection flashed through his mind and with it, the resolution he¡¯d buried shortly afterward. Never again. Fight back.


    But Jess¡¯s attack was beyond anything Hest had ever done to him. To be struck so hard in the face shocked him as much as stunned him. He hung in the hunter¡¯s grip, trying to find the strength to lift his hands, let alone make fists of them. Then the man laughed aloud, and the sound filled Sedric with a panicky strength. He shot his fist forward as hard as he could into the center of the Jess¡¯s body, just below his breastbone. Jess let out a sudden whuff of air and sat down hard in the boat.


    For half a breath Sedric was on top of the hunter, raining blows on him, but he was dazed and could not put any strength behind them. Jess lunged up and wrapped his arms around Sedric. Then, as effortlessly as if Sedric were a child, he rolled with him, trapping him beneath his weight. Then the hunter¡¯s heavy hands settled around his throat. Sedric¡¯s own hands rose to catch at the man¡¯s thick wrists. They were wet and cold and slickly scaled; he could not get a grip on them. The man forced him down and back across the seat in the middle of the boat, pushing him into the rancid bilgewater as the seat bit into his back. He kicked wildly, but his feet connected with nothing. He clawed at the man¡¯s face, but the hunter¡¯s skin seemed impervious to pain or penetration.


    Sedric gave up trying to attack Jess or even to defend himself. All he wanted to do was escape. His flailing hands groped for the side of the boat. One hand gripped it, and he tried to pull himself out from under and away from Jess. But the man¡¯s hands were locked on his throat and his weight pressed him down.


    Sedric had never felt so powerless.


    Not since the last time Hest had held him down and laughingly told him, ¡°I¡¯ll decide how it¡¯s going to be. You¡¯ll like it. You always do.¡±

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    But he didn¡¯t. Not always. And suddenly all the anger he¡¯d ever felt at Hest for not caring if he enjoyed it or not, for laughing at him when he dominated him, rushed through him just as his desperately groping hand found the handle of the hatchet.


    It was stuck firmly in the hard dry log that floated beside the boat, but his was the strength of desperate anger. He jerked at it spasmodically. Luck, not intent, decreed that as it suddenly bucked loose, the heavy blunt end of it connected with the back of Jess¡¯s skull.


    It startled the hunter more than stunned him. His grip slacked and through a red mist, Sedric saw Jess roll his head to one side as if to look for an unsuspected attacker. Fight him. Fight him. The dragon¡¯s furious thoughts fed him strength. He swung the hatchet again, awkwardly, but with deliberate force and direction. It connected, this time with the hunter¡¯s jaw, knocking it sideways with a loud crack. Jess shrieked. Sedric dragged a deep breath, then half of a second one into his lungs. Jess was making noises, but Sedric¡¯s ears were ringing and Jess¡¯s diction was ruined by the hatchet hitting him yet again. And suddenly Sedric heard himself croaking out, ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    I¡¯ll kill for you. That thought bounced back to him, a reptilian echo.


    A last flailing strike hit the hunter between the eyes, and that did stun him. Sedric dropped the heavy hatchet into the bottom of the boat. He pushed hard at Jess and the man flopped off him with a groan, half over the low side of the boat. He was only unconscious for a moment. ¡°You bas¡ª!¡± he croaked. He drew back his arm, and all Sedric could see was a meaty fist headed toward him.


    Then an immense splash rocked the boat. Relpda¡¯s head and shoulders shot up out of the matted debris to tower momentarily over the boat. Hunter food! she announced and bent her head. Sedric had never really seen the inside of a dragon¡¯s maw before. She opened her jaws impossibly wide, and he could see inside, see the immense swallowing muscles at the sides of her throat, and the row of sharp teeth that curved inward. Her mouth came down over the hunter¡¯s head and shoulders like a poacher popping a sack over a rabbit. He had one brief glimpse of Jess¡¯s eyes so wide that the whites showed all around them. Then Relpda closed her jaws.


    There was a sound, a sound between a shearing of bone and a crushing of meat. Relpda¡¯s head rose, and she pointed her muzzle at the sky. Her head jerked twice as she swallowed.


    Jess¡¯s bloody hips and legs fell into the boat beside Sedric. He kicked at them in reflexive horror and the pelvis flopped over the side, followed by the legs. Relpda gave a squeal of protest and dived after them. The wave of her passage rocked the boat wildly. Blood and water mingled in the bottom of the boat, sloshing back and forth around the dropped hatchet.


    Sedric leaned over the side of the boat, staring after them. ¡°That didn¡¯t happen,¡± he slurred. He lifted the back of his hand to his mouth and then took it away. Bloody. He turned his head and looked at the hatchet in the boat¡¯s bilgewater. Blood streamed from it in tiny threads and mingled with the water. There was hair on it, too. Jess¡¯s hair. ¡°I killed him,¡± he said aloud. The words came strangely to his ears.


    Delicious.


    THE AFTERNOON PASSED without incident. Thymara and Tats didn¡¯t talk much. She didn¡¯t have much to say, and keeping up with her left Tats short of wind. She made sure of that.


    The way her feelings about him vacillated bothered her more than her actual emotions. When she was around the others, it was easier to pretend that nothing had changed between them. Did that mean that perhaps nothing really had changed? Was she angry at him or not? And if she was, what was the reason? Sometimes, she could see that she had no real basis for her anger. There had been no mutual understanding between them. He had not broken any promise to her. Surely he was free to do as he pleased, just as she was. She could be dispassionate about it. He¡¯d mated with Jerd. That was their business, not hers. And now that Jerd was with Greft, it had even less to do with her.


    But then her hurt would break through, and she¡¯d feel indignant and slighted all over again. The least he could have done was let her know sooner. If Rapskal had known of it, how private could it have been? Why had he let her be ignorant of it so long? It made her feel so stupid, so naive. My pride, she thought. It¡¯s my pride that¡¯s broken, not my heart. I¡¯m not in love with him. I don¡¯t want an exclusive claim on him. I don¡¯t want him to claim me. We are just friends, friends who have known each other for a long time. And he kept a secret from me and made me feel stupid. Just her pride. That was all.

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    It might be true, but it wasn¡¯t what it felt like.


    Spurred by emotion, she climbed higher and more swiftly through the trees than she usually would, making Tats struggle to keep up with her. She found food and by the time he caught up with her, she had gathered most of it. Tats had fashioned his shirt into a crude carry-sack. As soon as he arrived, she packed whatever she had found into it and moved on. Other than discussing what food she had found and what they might next look for, there had been little conversation. She could see that Tats was aware she wasn¡¯t really talking to him, but he seemed content to leave the situation alone.


    They returned to the floating morass that was their current sanctuary just as it became too dark to see under the trees. On the river, there was still some light from a distant sunset. The others had been successful, both in raising a small shelter on their raft, and in creating another platform for their floating fire. The yellow light it cast was cheering. As Alise had suggested, it was tethered to their sleeping raft in such a way that it could be quickly shoved away if the fire began to spread. For now, the welcome light and warmth it gave off cheered everyone. Boxter and Kase were tending it, stripping branches of leaves and tossing them on the fire to create a haze of smoke to drive insects away. Thymara was not certain that she preferred eye-watering smoke to stinging insects, but she was too weary to argue with them about it.


    The dragons had returned for the night. It was somewhat comforting to see their hulking silhouettes braced against the trees that barred them from entering the flooded forest. They were becoming more adept at capturing their own timbers and hooking their rib cages over them to float. She wondered if they had come back because they missed the humans, or only because they knew their keepers would help shore them up and keep them afloat for the night. Sylve and Harrikin seemed to have devised a technique for trapping several logs under a dragon¡¯s chest. The dragons were not thrilled with their night¡¯s lodgings, but it was better than treading water. The acid-killed fish had proven both a boon and a liability to the dragons. They had eaten to satiation, but their bulging bellies were uncomfortable, and more so when braced against a log.


    ¡°And they¡¯re tired of being in the water. Really tired. Some are complaining that their claws are getting soft,¡± Sylve said as she sat next to Thymara when they ate that night. To her surprise there had been meat to cook as well as the fruit and vegetation that she and Tats had foraged. A disoriented riverpig, half drowned and stupid with weariness, had climbed right out on their raft. Lecter had clubbed it. It had not been a large animal, but it had been fat, and it tasted delicious to Thymara.


    Greft walked behind them on his way to sitting down and commented, ¡°There¡¯s no use their complaining about soft claws. No one can do anything about it.¡±


    Thymara rolled her eyes at Sylve, and the girl bent her head over her plate to hide a smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure the dragons will take that thought to heart,¡± Thymara muttered to her, and they both laughed softly. She glanced up just in time to see Greft giving her a dark look. She returned his gaze with a flat stare and then went on with her eating. She didn¡¯t respect him, and she refused to quail before him.


    The sleeping shelter was small, and the floor was very uneven despite a layer of leafy branches. The positive side of that was that everyone was a bit warmer when packed so closely together, but it also meant that no one could shift positions without disturbing two others. It had been decided that they would keep a watch on the fire outside, adding wood to feed it and adding leaves for smoke. ¡°Flames to signal anyone who might be trying to find us. Smoke to keep the insects away,¡± Greft had needlessly informed them all.


    The task was trickier than Thymara had thought it would be. There was a layer of matted leaves and mud between the fire and the mass of floating wood that made its platform. When it was Thymara¡¯s turn to keep the watch, Sylve came to wake her and showed her how to feed the fire without letting it burn down deep into the lower part of its raft. Sylve left her sitting on the edge of the main raft with a plentiful supply of leafy branches and a stack of broken dry wood for the fire.


    Thymara sighed as she settled into her task. Her back hurt, in a way that was different from her aching muscles. She¡¯d pushed herself as well as Tats today; she had only herself to blame for her weariness. But she was very tired of the injury along her spine and the dull ache she endured at all hours.


    Night had passed into its quietest hours. The evening birds had stopped their calls and swooping insect hunts and settled for the night. Even the buzzing, stinging insects seemed less prevalent. She watched the reflection of the firelight on the water. Occasionally, a curious fish would make a slow shadowy pass beneath the mirroring water, but for the most part, all was still and calm. The river lapped placidly against the logs as if it had not tried to kill all of them only a day and a half ago. The dragons looked like strange ships as they dozed, heads bent and half their bodies hanging under the water. She tried simply to enjoy the night without thinking, but her thoughts ranged from Rapskal to the silver dragon and back to Alum and Warken. Three of the keepers were missing and probably dead, and three dragons, all female. That was a blow. Veras had still not appeared; Mercor had told Sylve that he had not felt her die but that she should not take that as an assurance that Veras was still alive. It was maddening news to Jerd, and she had seemed more weepy rather than less after hearing it.

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    ¡°I need to talk to you.¡±


    Thymara startled and then felt angry she had done so. Greft had ghosted up behind her; she hadn¡¯t even felt the raft rock as he approached her. It hadn¡¯t been an accident that she¡¯d been unaware of him; he¡¯d wanted to surprise her. She glanced up at him, keeping her face expressionless, and asked, ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. For the good of us all, I need some answers from you. We all do.¡± He hunkered down beside her, closer than she wanted him to be. ¡°I¡¯ll put it simply. Is it to be Tats?¡±


    ¡°Is what to be Tats?¡± The question irritated her and she let him hear it in her voice. If he wanted to be mysterious and officious, then she could be obtuse.


    His scaled face, always a study in flat planes, hardened. His lips were so narrow, it was hard to tell if he clenched his jaw or not. She suspected so. He crouched down beside her and spoke in a low growl. ¡°Look. No one understood why you chose Rapskal, but I told them all that it didn¡¯t matter. You¡¯d made your choice and we had to respect that. A few wanted to challenge him. I forbade it. You should appreciate that. I respected your first choice and kept the peace for you.


    ¡°But Rapskal is gone now. And for all our sakes, the sooner the matter is settled, the better it is for all of us. So choose and make it clear.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re trying to say. But I think I prefer not to know. This is my watch and I¡¯m doing my task. Go away.¡± She spoke flatly, torn between anger and fear. Greft seemed somehow inevitable tonight, a force she must deal with, and a force she seemed unlikely to defeat. His words were either mysterious, or made a horrible sense. She didn¡¯t want to know which.


    But he wouldn¡¯t spare her ignorance. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend,¡± he said harshly. ¡°You aren¡¯t good at it. You heard me warn Nortel earlier today. If you¡¯ve chosen Tats, well, then, you¡¯ve chosen him. Make that choice plain to the others and there won¡¯t be any problems. I¡¯ll see to that. Tats isn¡¯t what I would have picked for you, but even in a time and place of new rules, I respect some of our oldest traditions. I was largely raised by my mother, and she kept the old rules, the rules from when the Rain Wilds were first settled. Back then the Traders agreed that a woman could stand on an equal footing with her husband and make her own choices. That I am alive today is due to my mother¡¯s choice. She kept me, and she demanded that others respect her right to do so. And so I see the wisdom of letting women have a say in their lives, and I¡¯m willing to respect it. And to demand that others respect it also.¡±


    ¡°And who made you the king?¡± she demanded. She was afraid now. Had she been blind to this, as well? Did the others accept him as leader, and beyond leader, as someone to set the rules and dictate their lives to them?


    ¡°I put myself in charge when it became plain to me that no one else was equal to the task. Someone has to make the decisions, Thymara. We can¡¯t all blithely go our own ways, letting things fall out as they may. Not if we hope to survive.¡± He annoyed her by picking up wood and putting it on her fire. It caught almost immediately. She retaliated by poking it off the fire into the river, where it hissed and then bobbed next to the fire raft. He got her message.


    ¡°Fine. You can defy me. Well, you can try. But life and fate are what you can¡¯t defy. Fate has given us a bad balance here. Even with three males out of the picture, the ratio of keepers is still badly skewed. Do you want men to fight over you? Do you want to see our fellows injure one another, create lifelong vendettas with one another, so that you can feel valuable?¡± He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable in the night. ¡°Or are you waiting to be raped? Does that sort of thing excite you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want that! That¡¯s despicable!¡±


    ¡°Then you need to choose who you will accept as a partner. Now. Before all the males start competing for you. We are a small company. We can¡¯t afford to have boys hurting one another over you. Nor can we allow anyone to force you. Where that would lead, I can imagine only too well. Choose a mate and have it be over.¡±


    ¡°Jerd didn¡¯t choose. She mated where she wanted.¡± She flung it at him as the only weapon she could find. ¡°Or didn¡¯t you know that?¡±


    ¡°I know that all too well!¡± he snarled back. ¡°Why do you think I had to step in and take charge of her? She was being foolish, setting the men against one another. A black eye here, a bruised face there. It was starting to escalate. So I took her and made her mine, to keep the others from quarreling. She wasn¡¯t my first choice, if you want to hear me say that. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s as intelligent as you are. Nor as competent to survive. I let you know of my interest from the very beginning, but you preferred Rapskal the no-wit to me. I forced myself to accept that decision, even though I thought it was a poor one. Well, he¡¯s gone now. And I¡¯m with Jerd, for better or worse, at least until the child is born. Because that is the only way I could force the others to stop striving to win her regard. I can¡¯t very well claim you as well. So before the rivalry and competition for your attention become violent, you¡¯d best make a choice and stick to it.¡±

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    Thymara¡¯s head whirled. A child? Jerd was pregnant? Was there a worse time and place to be pregnant? What had she been thinking? And before she drew another breath, she wondered angrily what any of the males had been thinking. Had any of them considered that they might be fathering a child? Or, like Rapskal and Tats, had it simply been a thing she was allowing them to do, and because they could, they did? Anger washed through Thymara.


    ¡°Who is the father of Jerd¡¯s child?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter really, does it? I¡¯ll claim it, and that will be that.¡±


    ¡°I think you go about claiming too many things already. You may have appointed yourself king or leader, Greft, but I have not. I¡¯ll tell you bluntly, I don¡¯t accept your authority over me. And I am certainly not going to ¡®choose¡¯ one of the ¡®males¡¯ simply to stop the others from quarreling. If they are stupid enough to fight one another over something that is not theirs to claim, then let them.¡±


    She nearly stood up and walked away. But her watch was not over, and the fire was her responsibility. She looked at him flatly. ¡°Go away. Leave me alone.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°You may wish it to be that simple, but it isn¡¯t. Wake up, Thymara. If you don¡¯t choose a protector and if I don¡¯t enforce your choice of one, who is going to protect you? We are alone out here, now more than ever. There are four females and seven males. Jerd is with me. Sylve has chosen Harrikin. If you think¡ª¡±


    ¡°Four females? I can¡¯t believe what I¡¯m hearing. Are you including Alise in your crazy plans?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s here and she¡¯s female, so she¡¯s included. That choice isn¡¯t mine; it¡¯s simply the reality of what is. I¡¯ll let her adjust for a time before I speak with her about it. The reality is this, Thymara. We are all marooned here together. Just as the original Rain Wild settlers did, we will have to learn to make our homes here. This is where our children will be born and grow up. We, right now, this little huddle of sleeping people, are the seeds from which a new settlement will grow.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±


    ¡°I am not. The difference between us is that you are very young, and you think that ¡®the rules¡¯ mean something when there is no law and punishment to back them up. They don¡¯t. If you don¡¯t choose someone and make that choice plain, then someone will choose you. Or several someones. And you¡¯ll either end up going to whoever battles his way to the right to claim you or being used by several men. I¡¯d sooner not see the outcome of that.¡±


    ¡°I choose no one.¡±


    He stood slowly, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s an option for you, Thymara.¡± He turned away from her and then turned back. He spoke disdainfully. ¡°Perhaps Tats is the best match for you. You can probably make him wait and lead him about by the nose until it suits your fancy to come to his bed. But he isn¡¯t what I would choose for you and I¡¯ll tell you why, plainly. He¡¯s too tall; if he gives you a child, it will be too large for you to birth easily. I know you¡¯ve said you won¡¯t listen to my advice, but I suggest that you look at Nortel. He is one of us in ways that Tats can never be, and he¡¯s more compatible in size. You don¡¯t have to be with him forever. It¡¯s possible that eventually you¡¯ll take a different mate, or possibly several in your lifetime.¡±


    He took a step away, then halted and looked back at her again. For a moment, his gaze seemed almost sympathetic. ¡°Don¡¯t think this is something I¡¯m imposing on you. I simply happen to see people and situations for what they are. While the rest of you were singing songs and telling stories about the fire, I was talking with Jess. There was a man with book education and ideas. I¡¯m sorry he¡¯s gone. He opened my eyes to a lot of things, including how the greater world works. I know you think that I¡¯m overbearing, Thymara. The truth is, I want us all to survive. I can¡¯t force you to do this. I can only point out to you that, right now, you have the opportunity to make a choice. Wait too long, even a few days more, and that choice may be taken from you. Once men have fought over you and one has claimed you, it will be too late for anyone to assert you have the right to choose your own mate. Then you¡¯ll have to live with what you have.¡±


    ¡°You are monstrous!¡± she cried in a low voice.


    ¡°Life is monstrous,¡± he replied imperturbably. ¡°I was trying to make it less so for you. To make you aware that you should choose while you still can.¡±


    He moved quietly and gracefully across the shifting logs. She watched him reenter the shelter. All peace had gone out of her night. Did Jerd know the sorts of things he said about her? He¡¯d preferred her. That thought sent a shiver down her spine, and not of the pleasant kind. She recalled now that she had initially found him attractive. It had been flattering to have an older man pay attention to her. But even then, she recalled, he had been talking of ¡°changing the rules.¡± Somehow his claim of honoring the Rain Wild traditions that women could determine their own futures rang false to her.

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    ¡°I won¡¯t be pushed,¡± she said aloud to the night. ¡°If they fight one another, that¡¯s their problem, not mine. If any one of them thinks that somehow they can claim me that way, he¡¯s going to find out he¡¯s wrong.¡±


    She had not been aware of Sintara on the edge of her thoughts until the dragon responded sleepily, Now you are thinking like a queen. There may be hope for you yet.


    Day the 21st of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    Enclosed, from the Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council at Cassarick and from the Rain Wild Traders¡¯ Council at Trehaug, a list of those confirmed dead from the calamitous quake, flood, and collapses in the excavation cities, said scroll to be posted in the Traders¡¯ Concourse at Bingtown and to become part of the Traders¡¯ Records there.


    Erek,


    This is a substantial list. When you receive it, please take time to sit down with my nephew Reyall and tell him gently that there have been losses in our family. Two of his cousins were working in the excavation at the time of the flood. No trace of either has been found. These lads were his playmates as he was growing up. This news may be hard for him, and the family wishes that you may give him time to make a visit home and mourn with us. I know it is hard to spare your apprentice, but if you can comply with this request, you will have my everlasting gratitude.


    Detozi


    CHAPTER EIGHT


    HORNS


    The dragons woke her. Alise had heard nothing before their trumpeting calls jerked her from her slumbers. All around her in the crowded shelter, keepers were rolling to their knees. The raft shifted, and a wave of vertigo washed over her. She clenched her teeth. She missed her nights on the Tarman, when the barge was beached and the world was still beneath her. And she missed Leftrin, more than she dared think about.


    The dragons trumpeted again, not in unison, but in a ragged response to a sound she hadn¡¯t heard. She heard Sintara¡¯s clear clarion call, and Mercor¡¯s bull bellow. Fente¡¯s note was a drawn-out shriek, while Nortel¡¯s lavender dragon made a sound like a bow thrumming. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, but only heard her question echoed in half a dozen voices. A jam of bodies trying to exit the shelter plunged her back into dimness and tipped the crude raft. She waited where she was, looking up at the blue sky through the crude roof woven of leafy branches and wondering if some new disaster was about to befall them all.


    By the time she could join the others outside, all the dragons were roused. Among their excited trumpeting, in a small gap of quiet, she heard both the winding of a long horn call and the cry of another dragon. ¡°Veras! It¡¯s Veras!¡± Jerd shrieked. She went scuttling over the packed logs, heading for the unstable edge of the floating debris pack, and Greft went scrambling after her. He caught her by the shoulders and held her back from falling in as Veras approached. In her wake, periodically blowing three short blasts on a horn, was one of the hunters from the Tarman. Alise¡¯s heart leaped and then sank at the sight of him. It was Carson, Leftrin¡¯s friend. But he was not Leftrin, and the barge was nowhere in sight.


    A hail of questions peppered them both as they drew nearer. Carson didn¡¯t even attempt to reply. He abandoned blowing his horn and applied his efforts to his paddle to swiftly approach the shore. By the time he could toss a line to one of the awaiting keepers, Veras had already thrust her way into the packed debris and was allowing a weeping Jerd to stroke her face. Alise crowded forward with the keepers to hear what tidings he might bring.


    ¡°Are you all here and safe?¡± was his first question, and when Greft shook his head, the hunter¡¯s face fell into lines of disappointment.


    ¡°The Tarman and Captain Leftrin are just around the last bend. They should be showing any minute now. As soon as he¡¯s here, he¡¯ll take you on board and get a hot meal into you. Not much we can do for the dragons just yet, but the river¡¯s been dropping fast since dawn. I hope that by this evening, there will be some shallows where they can at least stand and take some rest.¡±


    Lecter had caught the rope and secured the small boat to their raft as Carson spoke. Now the hunter clambered nimbly from the boat to the raft and looked around at the gathered people, grinning. As he scanned the waiting faces, hope slowly died. ¡°Who¡¯s missing?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Who¡¯s on board the Tarman?¡± Greft countered.


    Carson looked annoyed with him but answered, ¡°Captain Leftrin and the full crew came through just fine. Big Eider banged up his ribs some, but nothing¡¯s broken so far as we can tell. My boy Davvie¡¯s on board, too. We lost our other hunter, unless Jess is here with you. And what about Sedric? Is he here?¡±

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    ¡°Sedric!¡± Alise gasped his name. Sedric was missing? She¡¯d always thought he was safe on board the Tarman. He¡¯d been there, in his cabin, when she left. How could he be missing, unless the barge had taken a terrible beating in the wave? Had his shelter been torn free, had he been drowned in his bed? The devastating news that Sedric was definitely missing collided with her joy that Leftrin was fine and would soon appear to rescue her. It was as if neither emotion would allow her to fully experience the other, and so she was trapped between them, feeling disloyal and numb. She worked her way around the clustered keepers and through them until she stepped out in front of Carson. At the sight of her, a sudden smile lit his face.


    ¡°Alise! You are here! Well, that will take away the captain¡¯s greatest fear.¡± A light of cautious hope spread over his face. ¡°And Sedric? Is he with you?¡±


    She shook her head as Carson sidestepped Greft and came straight to her. She found her voice and tongue, though she could scarcely draw breath to push out the words. ¡°I thought he was on the Tarman.¡± A devastating guilt dizzied her. She¡¯d made him come with her. And now he was missing. Dead. Sedric was no swimmer, no tree climber. He was dead. Unthinkable. Impossible. Don¡¯t think on it, don¡¯t allow it to be real. She cleared her throat, and her tongue babbled on without her. ¡°Now that Veras has returned, we are missing only the copper dragon, the silver one, and Heeby. Of keepers, we¡¯ve seen nothing of Rapskal, Alum, or Warken. Are any of them with you?¡±


    A silence fell, and when Carson slowly shook his head, low groans and sighs met his denial of their hopes. ¡°They¡¯re gone, then,¡± Alise said aloud, and she hated the finality of her words. It was like pronouncing them dead.


    ¡°I intend to keep looking.¡± Carson¡¯s words jolted her back to awareness of the world around her. The keepers were milling around and talking, absorbing this latest piece of news. Veras had rejoined the other dragons; Jerd, Sylve, and Harrikin were working together to show her how to use the logs to float so she could rest.


    ¡°I found her wedged between some trees,¡± Carson told her. His gaze had followed hers. ¡°She¡¯d climbed up there when she was too weary to swim anymore. That probably saved her life. But as the water went down, she found herself wedged. She¡¯d probably have gotten herself out after she starved a bit more, but I¡¯m glad it didn¡¯t come to that.¡±


    Alise met his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re trying to tell me that the others may be in similar situations somewhere. Stuck, but alive.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m going to keep believing. Excuse me.¡± He turned away from her, lifted the horn to his lips, and blew three short but deafening blasts. This time, in the distance, she heard an answering horn. He turned back to her with a smile and raised his voice so that all on the raft could hear him. ¡°And that will be the Tarman. We¡¯ll ferry all of you out to the barge as soon as we can. The floats for the dragons are a good idea. We may be able to make them a bit more sturdy with line from the Tarman. If the river continues to fall, they probably won¡¯t need them much longer.


    ¡°Jess is still missing, and I¡¯m going to continue searching rather than hunting. So I suggest that gathering any food you can find would be an excellent idea. You¡¯re going to have to do more toward feeding yourselves for a few days, until we can resume hunting again.¡±


    Greft had come to stand just behind Carson¡¯s shoulder. He looked irritated, Alise thought, and wondered what could annoy him about being rescued. When he spoke, his words sounded like a rebuke.


    ¡°If you¡¯ve finished chatting with Carson, I¡¯ve some important information to share with him, if he¡¯d give me his attention. The wave that struck us deposited most of us in the trees along here. I gathered those I could find, and the dragons called to one another until they found one another. We¡¯ve been able to provide for ourselves here. I¡¯ll organize some of the keepers to collect more food for tonight. Most of it will be fruit or vegetable. Luckily, I kept my wits about me, and we caught three of our boats. No paddles remained; they were tossed about and almost all our gear was lost. It will make it hard for us to help bring in meat or fish for the dragons.¡±


    Carson nodded slowly. ¡°Damn shame. We can carve some paddles, but that will take time. And the missing gear will be largely impossible to replace. We can try to make some fish spears, too, even if they¡¯re not much more than sharpened sticks. But at least you¡¯re all alive.¡±


    Greft¡¯s eyes narrowed. Alise realized that was not the response he had expected from the hunter. ¡°Saving lives seemed a bit more important to me than saving gear,¡± he said tartly. ¡°I did the best I could at the time.¡±

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    He¡¯d expected the hunter to praise him, she realized. To give him the credit for saving the keepers. ¡°And of course you were very helpful to Thymara and me when Sintara brought us here,¡± Alise interjected, hoping to soothe his ruffled feathers. He flicked a glance at her that was like a slap. It suddenly reminded her of Hest and how annoyed he would get, even in a social situation, if she spoke during what he deemed ¡°a man¡¯s conversation.¡± Her sympathy for him evaporated. Almost vindictively she added, ¡°Thymara has been doing most of our providing. I¡¯ll speak to her now about going out.¡±


    She turned and walked away from them, surprised by the strength of the anger washing through her. He isn¡¯t Hest, she reminded herself fiercely and, in doing so, realized the true source of her anger. In a short time, the man she had come to love would be here beside her again.


    And her husband still stood between them.


    THREE SHORT BLASTS of the horn!


    The first time he heard it echoing back to him, he hadn¡¯t dared to hope. Sounds traveled strangely across the wet lands of the Rain Wilds. Leftrin had not seen Carson for some hours. He had vanished around one of the gentle bends in the immense river. Then Tarman had been delayed when Davvie had spotted exactly what Leftrin had most feared to see: a body tangled in the driftwood and debris along the side of the river.


    It had been Warken, and he had not drowned but been smashed against the flotsam in the river. Carefully they had taken up the body of the young keeper, wrapped him in a fold of canvas, and laid him on the deck of the barge. Every time he passed the body, it seemed an ill omen of things to come. How many more draped bodies would weight Tarman¡¯s deck before this day was out?


    So he had been cautious when he first heard the three short blasts clearly. He had Davvie signal back and then had asked Tarman to make haste. Even as the barge picked up speed, he reminded himself that the three short blasts could signify anything; Carson could have discovered more bodies just as easily as survivors. But as the boat rounded the bend and came in sight of the tiny camp and its smoldering signal fire, his heart had leaped. He had squinted at the small figures in the shade of the great trees and tried to make out who might be there.


    Sooner than he had a right, he saw her. There was no mistaking the sun glinting off that head of glorious red hair. He¡¯d given a roar of delight and felt an answering surge of speed from his ship. ¡°Easy, Tarman! We¡¯ll be there soon enough!¡± Swarge had bellowed, and the ship had reluctantly slowed. Not even a liveship was immune to every danger the river offered. Now was not the time to discover a submerged rock or a waterlogged snag.


    It was hard to remain on board and wait patiently for Carson to begin the slow process of ferrying the keepers back to the barge. He dared not let Tarman go nosing in among the debris. The push and wake of the bigger ship could easily disrupt the fragile unity of the mat and send the keepers plunging into the cold river water. No. No matter how he longed to somehow fling himself across the distance that separated them, he stood firmly on the deck of his ship and waited. He muttered imprecations when he saw that Carson¡¯s first passengers were Greft and Jerd and Sylve.


    Despite his disappointment, he was still able to welcome them warmly aboard. All three looked a bit worse for wear, but the girls both hugged him and thanked him for finding them. He sent them off to the galley for hot fish soup to warm them up. ¡°Get some food in your bellies and you¡¯ll be your old selves. But I have to warn you, go easy on the fresh water! Share a bucket and a rag for now. Until we get rain or the river goes down so we can make a sand well, we¡¯re going to have to conserve. Off you go now!¡±


    And the girls had gone, obedient and grateful, while Leftrin watched Carson heading back to the floating mat for more passengers.


    ¡°Captain.¡± Greft¡¯s officious voice was an unwelcome distraction.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he said, and upon hearing the impatience in his own voice, he added, ¡°You must be as weary and hungry as the others. Why don¡¯t you get yourself some soup?¡±


    ¡°Soon enough,¡± Greft replied brusquely. ¡°First, we have to lay our plans for what will happen next. Three keepers and three dragons are still missing. We have to discuss plans for either continuing or abandoning the search.¡±


    Leftrin shot a look at the younger man. ¡°I¡¯ll make it easy for you and tell you my plans, son. First, I¡¯m sorry to tell you that only two keepers are still missing. We found young Warken dead in the river only a few hours ago. And second, we¡¯ll continue our search for at least another day and perhaps two. Once we have the rest of the keepers aboard, Carson will set out to see if he can find anyone else. We¡¯ll either hold here with the dragons, or leave a few keepers here with the dragons and follow Carson more slowly. That just may depend on what the river does. The water is going down fast. I think whatever broke loose upriver has just about passed us by now.¡±

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    ¡°Captain, in my opinion, there isn¡¯t much point in our delaying our journey. You¡¯d only be wasting time and precious fresh water. What you¡¯ve told me about Warken saddens me, but it confirms what I¡¯ve feared since we first pulled ourselves out of the water. I think the others are dead. And I feel that¡­¡±


    ¡°Go feel whatever you¡¯re feeling in the galley, lad. On the Tarman, the only opinion that counts is the captain¡¯s, and oh, looky, that¡¯s me. Go on with you, now. Eat something. Sleep. You¡¯ll more clearly remember who I am and who you are, and that you¡¯re standing on the deck of my ship.¡±


    His words were considerably gentler than how he would have addressed a deckhand who so far forgot himself as to speak to his captain like that. Besides, he could see Alise stepping into Carson¡¯s tippy little boat and he wanted to watch her come aboard without distractions.


    He saw the youngster¡¯s jaw snap shut and marked the baleful look in his eye. Well, he¡¯d get over it. And if he didn¡¯t, he¡¯d just get smacked down a bit more firmly the next time. Leftrin didn¡¯t watch him leave. His eyes were locked on the boat, which Carson was paddling crosscurrent toward them.


    Abandoning all pretense, he left the top of the deckhouse and descended quickly to the deck. He stood by the railing and waited for her, grinning stupidly. When the small boat was alongside and she looked up at him with her eyes so gray in her poor water-scalded face, his heart ached for her. ¡°Oh, Alise!¡± No other words came to him. Her red hair was a tangled tumble down her back. She still wore the copper gown he had sheathed her in. Thank Sa for Elderling artifacts. He leaned over the railing, and as soon as he could, he put his hands lightly on her wrists as she climbed up the ladder.


    And when he helped her over the railing and onto the deck, he didn¡¯t let her go. He folded her in his arms and held her gently against him, mindful of how sore her skin must be but also knowing, ¡°I¡¯m never, ever going to let you get that far away from me again, Alise. Sa be praised that you¡¯re here and safe. I¡¯m not letting you go again. I don¡¯t care what anyone says.¡±


    ¡°Captain Leftrin,¡± she said softly. She leaned her brow against the side of his jaw. Was it an accident? Did he imagine the quick brush of her lips against his throat? A shiver, a flush of heat, ran over him and he stood perfectly still, as if a rare bird had deigned to alight on his shoulder. She pulled herself slightly back from him and looked up into his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s so good to be safe with you,¡± she said. ¡°I knew you¡¯d come for us. I knew it.¡±


    Could she ever have said a more touching thing to him? He was so pleased by her words that he felt both foolish and extremely manly at the same time. He grinned fiercely and held her closer for a moment. Then, before she could request to be released, he set her free. Never did he want her to feel trapped by him.


    Her next words brought him firmly back to earth. ¡°Do we know what befell Sedric? Was he lost overboard during the wave?¡±


    ¡°I am so sorry, Alise. I don¡¯t know. I thought he was in his cabin. I¡¯d gone ashore to¡­check on things. I was there when the first wave hit.¡± He had to think fast now. No one knew he¡¯d gone to meet Jess. No one connected him to the hunter at all. In his heart, he knew he¡¯d killed the man. He¡¯d given him a bad enough beating that he could not possibly have survived his time in the water. He¡¯d killed him, and he couldn¡¯t regret doing it. That didn¡¯t mean he wanted to let anyone else know that he¡¯d done it. It was his secret, and he¡¯d take it to the grave with him. ¡°It was sheer luck that the Tarman found me in the dark and took me aboard.¡± Another lie. Didn¡¯t he owe her better than this? He plowed ahead with his tale. ¡°Sedric might have been on deck and got washed overboard when the water hit. Or he might have been ashore. All I know is that when I went looking for him, he wasn¡¯t here. And neither were you.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s my fault, for dragging him into this.¡± She spoke the words quietly but firmly, as if it were a fault she had to confess.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s true,¡± he offered her.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    The depth of guilt in her voice unnerved him. ¡°Now, Alise, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any future in following that thought. We¡¯ve been looking for him, and we¡¯re going to continue looking for him. We¡¯re not giving up. As soon as we¡¯ve settled what we¡¯re doing with the dragons, we¡¯ll make our plans to continue the search. We found you, didn¡¯t we? We¡¯ll find Sedric, too.¡±

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    ¡°Captain?¡± It was Davvie.


    ¡°What is it, lad?¡±


    ¡°Everyone coming on board is really thirsty and hungry. How much food and water do I let them have?¡±


    The ugly reality of that question reminded him that he was a captain as well as a man. He gave Alise a final apologetic look and turned aside from her, saying, ¡°I have to deal with the survivors right now. But we¡¯re going to keep looking for Sedric. I promise.¡±


    SHE NOTICED HE didn¡¯t promise to find Sedric. He couldn¡¯t. Her relief at being found, her joy at seeing Leftrin and knowing he was safe, had passed in a matter of heartbeats. Any joy, any relief seemed selfish to her just now as she wondered where Sedric was and what sort of condition he was in. Dead? Dying as he clung to a log somewhere? Alive and helpless somewhere on the river? He wouldn¡¯t know how to take care of himself, not in this sort of situation. For an instant, she saw him beside her, dapper and clever, smiling and kind. Her friend. Her friend whom she had dragged away from all he enjoyed and held dear, and brought to this savage place. And it had destroyed him.


    She made her way to her cabin and was grateful to close the door behind her. Soon enough, she¡¯d have to deal with everyone again. For now, she needed a few moments to find herself. Habit made her strip off her clothing. The long Elderling gown still looked perfectly intact. She gave it an experimental shake. A fine shower of dust fell from it; no mud clung to it, no snag or tear showed in the fabric. She dragged it over her hands and it flowed like a molten fall of copper. Such a marvel! A gift far too rich for a married woman to accept from a man not her husband. The thought ambushed her, and she thrust it ruthlessly aside.


    The gown had swiftly dried once she was out of the river and had kept her warm during those rough nights. And somehow, where it had touched her body, the scalding from the river was far less. Suddenly self-conscious, she raised her hands to her face and then touched her wild hair. Her skin felt rough and dry, her hair like a bundle of straw. In the dimness, she looked at her hands. The skin was reddened, her nails snagged and rough. She felt a double shame, not just that she looked so awful but that she could care about how she looked at such a time.


    Feeling shallow, she nonetheless found scented lotion for her hands and soothed her face with it. She dressed in some of her now well-worn clothing and then spent time working at the snarls and tangles in her hair. Then a fresh wave of despair struck her. She had successfully lost herself in the tiny routine of tidying up her self. Now that it was finished, her loss and guilt roared back. For a brief moment, she tempted herself with going to the galley for a hot cup of tea and a piece of ship¡¯s bread. Hot tea would taste so good after her days without it.


    Sedric had no tea.


    It was a sudden silly thought, but it brought tears to her eyes. A trembling ran through her and then was still. ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about it,¡± she admitted aloud. When she had been stranded, she¡¯d made herself believe that he was safe on board the ship with Leftrin, even though she had no reason to suppose that Leftrin or the Tarman were intact. She¡¯d hidden her fear from herself. And now that she had to face it, she was still burying it, still hiding behind chapped hands and rough hair and cups of tea. Time to face it.


    She left her room and walked quickly to Sedric¡¯s cabin. The keepers were mostly aboard now; she could hear the buzz of talk from the galley. She passed Davvie, the ship¡¯s boy, staring disconsolately out over the water. She stepped around him and went on, leaving him to his thoughts. Skelly was talking to Lecter, both their faces etched with sorrow. His eyes lingered on the girl¡¯s face. She heard Skelly ask him something about Alum. Lecter shook his head, the spikes along his jaw quivering. She slipped past them quietly.


    She tapped on Sedric¡¯s door and, half a heartbeat later, cursed herself for stupidity. She opened the door and went in, closing it behind her.


    Had absence sharpened her awareness? Everything in the room seemed wrong. It smelled of unwashed clothing and sweat. The blankets were rucked about like an animal¡¯s nest, the floor littered with discarded garments. Untidiness was very unlike Sedric, let alone this sliding into grubbiness. Her guilt hit her with a double sharpness. Sedric had been suffering from dark spirits for days, ever since he had poisoned himself with bad food. How could she have left him alone so much, even if he had been unpleasant and cold to her? How could she have visited this room for even a few minutes and not admitted how he was declining? She should have tidied things for him here, kept it as clean and bright as she could. The signs of his despondency were obvious in every part of the room. For one shocking moment, she wondered if he had deliberately done away with himself.

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    Knowing it was ridiculous, a mercy performed too late, she gathered his unwashed garments and carefully folded them, setting some aside to launder. She shook out his bedding and re-made his pallet. A promise to herself¡ªa foolish promise¡ªthat he would return and be relieved to find a tidy room waiting for him. She took up the bundle he had been using for a pillow and shook it to fluff it.


    As she did so, something fell to the floor. She stooped in the darkness and groped until her fingers found a fine chain. She lifted it and held it to the light. A locket swung from it. It gleamed gold and flashed even in the dim light. She had never seen Sedric wear it, and the moment it had tumbled from its hiding place in his pillow, she knew it was something private. She smiled even as her heart ached. She¡¯d never suspected that he had a sweetheart, let alone that she¡¯d gifted him with a locket. With a sudden wrench, she understood his reluctance to be stolen away from Bingtown, and his agony over being gone so long. Why hadn¡¯t he told her? He could have confided in her, and then she would have understood his driving need to return. His melancholy of the last week suddenly shone in a different light. He was heartsick. With her free hand, she caught the locket as it swung.


    She had not intended to open it. She was not the sort of woman who pried and spied. But as her hand closed on the locket, the catch sprung and it opened in her hand. With an exclamation of dismay, she saw that a lock of gleaming black hair was now escaping from its golden prison. She opened the locket the rest of the way to tuck it back in, and then stopped. Gazing up at her from the locket¡¯s confines were features that she recognized. Whoever had painted the miniature had known him well, to catch his face at just that moment before he burst into laughter. His green eyes were narrowed, his finely chiseled lips pulled tight enough to partially bare his white teeth. The painting was the work of a skilled artist. She looked down at Hest smiling up at her. What did it mean? What could it mean?


    She sank down slowly to sit on Sedric¡¯s bed. With trembling fingers, she poked the curl of black hair, tied with a single golden thread, back into the locket. It took her three tries before it would stay snapped shut. And when it was closed, the mystery only enlarged. For engraved on the outside of the golden clam-shell was a single word. ¡°Always,¡± she whispered to herself.


    She sat for a long time as the afternoon sunlight outside the small window slowly died. There could be but one explanation. Hest had had the locket made and entrusted it to Sedric to give to her. Why had he done such a thing?


    Always. What did that word mean to her, coming from Hest? Had he feared to lose her? Did he actually care for her, in some thwarted bizarre way that he could not confess to her face? Was that what this locket was supposed to tell her? Or had it been intended as a threat, that ¡°Always¡± he would keep a hold on her? No matter where she went, no matter how far, or how long she stayed away, Hest held her leash. Always. Always. She looked at the locket in the palm of her hand. Carefully, she lifted the chain and puddled it in a golden coil around the closed locket. She shut her fist around it, thrust her hand inside Sedric¡¯s pillow and dropped it. Carefully, she set the pillow down on his pallet.


    Her eyes roved around the small place where she had kenneled Sedric. Dim and small and crowded. Untidy. Completely unlike his personal chambers at their home in Bingtown. He loved high ceilings and tall windows open to the breeze. His desk and shelves were always a model of organization. Hest¡¯s servants knew to stock his room daily with fresh flowers, that he loved fragrant applewood burning in his small fireplace and hot tea served on an enameled tray. Scented candles in the evening and mulled wine. And from all that, she had snatched him away and condemned him to this. ¡°Sedric, I will make it up to you. I promise. Just be alive. Just be where we can find you. My friend, I¡¯ve treated you badly, but I swear it was not with intent. I swear.¡±


    She stood on her tiptoes to open the small windows to the evening breeze. As soon as they had water for washing, she¡¯d see that his clothes were laundered and hung fresh in his wardrobe. It was all she could do. She refused to consider the futility of promises made to a dead man. He had to be alive and he had to be found. That was all there was to it.


    ¡°THAT¡¯S SIMPLY NOT POSSIBLE.¡± Thymara spoke firmly.


    ¡°We are not asking you,¡± Sintara rejoined. ¡°It¡¯s his right.¡±


    ¡°We do not eat our dead,¡± Tats said stiffly.


    Evening had fallen, and much to the relief of everyone the river had finally subsided to an almost normal level. The dragons were still belly-deep in water, but now they had river bottom to stand on, even if it was thick with a fresh coat of silt and muck. The crew had moved the barge to an anchoring spot that was close to the dragons without threatening the barge with getting stranded. Every keeper had had a hot meal, even if it had been a small one.

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    Plans for the next day had been set. The keepers, dragons, and the barge would remain where they were for the next two days while Carson traveled a full day down the river and back up again, looking for survivors or bodies. Davvie had wanted to go with him and been refused. ¡°I can¡¯t load the boat up with passengers here, lad. I need room to ferry back anyone I find.¡±


    Kase had offered to accompany him in one of the other boats, but with the makeshift paddles they had, Carson had said he would only slow him down. ¡°Use the time while I¡¯m gone to see what you can do about carving out some decent paddles. Davvie and I have some extra spear-and arrowheads. Jess had a good stock of hunting equipment in his chest on board, but don¡¯t raid that just yet. I¡¯ve still got hopes that we¡¯ll find him alive. He¡¯s a pretty savvy riverman. It would take more than a big wave to do him in, I¡¯ll wager.¡±


    Everything had been decided, and some of the keepers were already settling for the night when the dragons had waded out to surround the barge and Baliper had made his outrageous demand.


    Now Mercor spoke. ¡°You are free to eat or not eat whatever you desire. As are we. We do devour our dead. It is Baliper¡¯s right to feed on the body of his keeper. Warken should be given to him before his meat rots any more.¡± The dragon turned his head to look at his own keeper. ¡°Are my words not clear? What is the delay?¡±


    ¡°Mercor, mirror of both the sun and the moon, what you ask is against our custom.¡± Sylve seemed calm, but her voice trembled a bit. Thymara suspected that she did not often defy her dragon.


    The great dragon spun his eyes at her. ¡°I am not asking. To reach Warken¡¯s body, Baliper may have to damage your boat. This, we think, would distress all of you. So, to aid you, we suggest you put his body over the side.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what we¡¯d have to do soon in any case,¡± Captain Leftrin pointed out in a low voice. ¡°We¡¯ve nowhere to bury him. So, the river will have him in any case, and moments after he¡¯s in the river, the dragons will have him. It¡¯s what they do, my friends.¡±


    If he was seeking to console them, Thymara thought, he was doing it in an odd way. There was not a one of them who could look at Warken¡¯s draped form and not imagine herself or himself lying there.


    Sintara picked up the image from Thymara¡¯s mind and agilely turned it against her. ¡°If you died tomorrow, which would you wish? To rot in the river, eaten by fishes? Or be devoured by me, and your memories live on in me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be dead and thus I wouldn¡¯t care either way,¡± Thymara replied brusquely. She felt the dragon was using her against the rest of the keepers and was not entirely comfortable with that.


    ¡°Exactly my point,¡± Sintara purred. ¡°Warken is dead. He no longer cares about anything. Baliper does. Give him to Baliper.¡±


    Harrikin suddenly spoke up. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to just sink down in the muck of the river bottom. I¡¯d give myself to Ranculos. I want everyone here to know that now. If something does befall me, give my body to my dragon.¡±


    ¡°Same for me,¡± Kase said, and predictably Boxter echoed him with a, ¡°Same.¡±


    ¡°And I,¡± Sylve chimed. ¡°I am Mercor¡¯s, in life or death.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Jerd conceded, and Greft added, ¡°For me, also.¡±


    The assents rounded the circle of gathered keepers. When it came back to her, Thymara bit her lip and held her silence. Sintara reared up out of the water, standing briefly on her hind legs to look down on her. ¡°What?¡± she demanded of the girl.


    Thymara looked up at her. ¡°I belong to myself,¡± she said quietly. ¡°To get, you must give, Sintara.¡±


    ¡°I saved you from the river!¡± The dragon¡¯s outraged trumpeting split the darkening sky.


    ¡°And I have served you from the day I met you,¡± Thymara replied. ¡°But I do not feel that our bond is complete. So I will hold my thoughts until such time as a decision must be made. And then I will leave it up to my fellow keepers.¡±


    ¡°Insolent human! Do you think that you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Another time.¡± Mercor cut into their quarrel. ¡°Render to Baliper what is his.¡±


    ¡°Warken wouldn¡¯t have had a problem with it,¡± Lecter said decidedly. He straightened from where he¡¯d been leaning on the railing. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± Tats said quietly.


    ¡°Keepers¡¯ decision,¡± Leftrin announced, as if they had waited for his permission. ¡°Swarge will show you how to use a plank to slide his body over the side. If you want words said, I¡¯ll say them.¡±

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    ¡°There should be words,¡± Lecter said. ¡°Warken¡¯s mother would want that.¡±


    And so it went, and Thymara watched it unfold and wondered at the strange little community they had become. I am and am not a part of this, she thought as she listened to Leftrin say his simple words and then watched Warken¡¯s body slip over the railing on a plank. She wanted to turn her head away from what would happen next but somehow she could not. She needed to see it, she told herself. Needed to see how the keepers and their dragons had become so intertwined that such an outrageous and macabre request could be seen as reasonable and even inevitable.


    Baliper was waiting. The body slid out from under its draping and as it entered the river, the dragon ducked his head and seized it. He lifted Warken, his head and feet dangling out either side of his mouth, and carried him off. The other dragons, she noted, did not follow him, but turned away and half swam, half waded back to the shallows at the edge of the river. Baliper disappeared upriver into the darkness with his keeper¡¯s body. So it was not a simple devouring of meat that humans would otherwise discard. It meant something, not just to Warken¡¯s dragon, but to all of them. It was important enough to them that when Baliper¡¯s demand had been initially refused, they had massed and made it plain that they would not let him be denied.


    The other keepers reminded her of the dragons. They dispersed quietly from their places along the railings. No one wept, but it did not mean no one wished to. Seeing Warken dead, really dead, had brought home the reality of Rapskal¡¯s absence. He was gone, and the chances were that if she saw him again he would be like Warken, battered and bloated and still.


    The keepers congregated in small groups. Jerd was with Greft, of course. Sylve was with Harrikin and Lecter. Boxter and Kase, the cousins, moved as one as they always did. Nortel trailed after them. And she stood apart from all of them, as she so often seemed to do. The only one who had refused her dragon. The only one who never seemed to know what rules the group had discarded and which ones they kept. Her back ached abominably, she was river scalded and insect bitten, and the loneliness that filled her up from the inside threatened to crack her body. She missed Alise¡¯s company, but now that they were back on the barge and she had her captain¡¯s attention, she probably wouldn¡¯t want to spend time with Thymara.


    And she missed Rapskal, with a keenness that shocked her.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    She turned, startled to discover Tats standing at her side. ¡°I suppose I am. That was a hard, strange thing, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°In some ways, it was the simplest solution. And Lecter had spent a lot of time with Warken; they partnered in the boats most days. So I¡¯m willing to believe that he knew what Warken would have wanted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he did,¡± Thymara replied quietly.


    They stood for a time, staring over the river. The dragons had dispersed. Thymara could still feel, like a fire radiating cold, Sintara¡¯s anger with her. She didn¡¯t care. Her skin hurt all over, the injury between her shoulders burned, and she didn¡¯t belong anywhere.


    ¡°I can¡¯t even go home.¡±


    Tats didn¡¯t ask what she meant. ¡°None of us can. None of us was ever really at home in Trehaug. This, here, on this barge tonight, this is as close to home as any of us have. Alise and Captain Leftrin and his crew included.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t fit in, even here.¡±


    ¡°You could if you chose to, Thymara. You¡¯re the one keeping a distance.¡± He moved his hand, not putting it over hers, but setting it on the railing beside hers so that his hand touched hers.


    Her first impulse was to move her hand away. By an effort, she didn¡¯t. She wondered both why she had wanted to move it away, and why she hadn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t have an answer to either question, so she asked Tats a question of her own. ¡°Do you know what Greft said to me about you?¡±


    The corner of his mouth quirked. ¡°No. But I¡¯m sure it wasn¡¯t flattering. And I hope you recalled that you know me far better than Greft can ever hope to.¡±


    So at least it hadn¡¯t been a male conspiracy to get the lone uncommitted female to make a choice. That made her opinion of her fellow keepers rise slightly. She kept her voice level and noncommittal as if she were speaking about how pleasant the night was. ¡°He came out when I was on watch last night and asked if I¡¯d chosen you. He explained that if I had, I¡¯d best declare it clearly, or let him know at least so that he could enforce my choice with the others. He said, otherwise, there might be a lot of competition. That some of the other keepers might even challenge you or start fights with you.¡±

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    ¡°Greft is a pompous ass who thinks he can speak for everyone,¡± Tats said after a profound silence. Just as she was ready to dismiss her experience with Greft as an aberration, he added, ¡°But I¡¯d like it if you said to everyone that you had chosen me. He¡¯s right about that; it would make things simpler.¡±


    ¡°What ¡®things¡¯ would it make simpler?¡±


    He gave her a sideways glance. They both knew he was treading on shaky ground now. ¡°Well. One thing is that it would give me an answer. One that I¡¯d like to have. And another is¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never even asked me a question,¡± she broke in. She spoke hastily and was appalled to realize that she¡¯d just pushed them deeper into the quagmire.


    She wanted to run away, to get away from this stupidity that stupid Greft had triggered with his stupid lecture. Tats seemed to know that. He put his calloused hand over hers. She could feel the softness of his palm against the scaled back of her hand. The warmth from that touch flooded through her, and for a moment her breath caught. Her mind flashed to Jerd and Greft, entwined and moving together. No. She forbade the thought and reminded herself that her hand under his was probably cold, slick with scales, like a fish. He did not look down at the hand he had captured. He took a breath and puffed it out. ¡°It¡¯s not a question. Not a specific question. It¡¯s, well, I¡¯d like to have what Greft and Jerd have.¡±


    So would she.


    No! Of course she didn¡¯t. She denied the thought.


    ¡°What Jerd and Greft have? You mean mating?¡± She didn¡¯t completely succeed in keeping accusation out of her voice.


    ¡°No. Well, yes. But they also have a certainty of each other. That¡¯s what I want.¡± He looked away from her and spoke more gently as if she were fragile. ¡°I know Rapskal has not been gone that long, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°How can anyone seriously think that Rapskal and I were anything more than friends?¡± she burst out indignantly. She jerked her hand out from under his and used it to push back the hair from her face.


    He looked surprised. ¡°You were always with him, all the time. Ever since we left Cassarick. Always sharing a boat, always sleeping together¡­¡±


    ¡°He always lay down to sleep next to me. And no one else ever offered to share a boat with me. I liked him, when he wasn¡¯t making me cross or annoying me or saying strange things.¡± Suddenly her diatribe against him seemed disloyal. She halted her words and admitted in a whisper, ¡°I liked him a lot. But I never imagined I was in love with him, and I don¡¯t think he ever thought of me that way. In fact, I¡¯m certain of it. He was just my peculiar friend who always looked on the bright side of things and who was always in a good temper. He always sought me out. I didn¡¯t have to work to be his friend.¡±


    ¡°He was that,¡± Tats agreed quietly. For a moment, that mourning silence held, and during it she felt closer to Tats than she had for a long time. Thymara broke the silence at last. ¡°What was the other reason?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You started to say and I interrupted you. What was the other reason you thought it would be best if I declared that I was¡ªthat I was with you.¡± She tried to find a better euphemism, couldn¡¯t, and gave up on it. She looked at him directly and waited.


    ¡°It would settle things. Put an end to speculation. There is, um, some bad feelings. From the others. Nortel has made a few comments¡ª¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± she asked him roughly.


    He became blunt. ¡°That I¡¯m not one of you, and that you belong with someone of your own kind, someone who can really understand you.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like Greft stirring the pot again.¡±


    ¡°Probably. He says lots of things like that. Late at night, around the fire. Usually after the girls have gone to sleep. He talks about how things are going to be, when we reach Kelsingra. According to Greft, we¡¯ll build our own city there. Well, it won¡¯t be a city at first, of course. But we¡¯ll settle there and make homes. Eventually others will come to join us there, but we keepers will be the founders. We¡¯ll make the rules.


    ¡°And when he talks like that, he unfolds things so logically that it does start to seem like it must be the way he says it¡¯s going to be. And usually, it comes out like he says it will. When we found out that Jerd was, well, going to have a baby, he said someone would have to be responsible, even if she didn¡¯t know whose it was. And he said he¡¯d set the example, and he did. And then, later, he said that Sylve was too young to have to make decisions for herself. He picked out Harrikin for her, because he was older and would have more self-control. He told him to start out by being her protector. And he did, and it worked out that Sylve chose him.¡±

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    ¡°Sylve said that?¡± She was shocked.


    ¡°Well, not directly. But it¡¯s obvious to all of us. And Greft said that even though no one could figure out why you¡¯d chosen Rapskal, that was how it was and no one was to interfere. It made me angry at first. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d ¡®chosen¡¯ him. But I was, well, I was with Jerd when he said it. So I couldn¡¯t very well say¡­¡± He let his words trickle away, took a breath, and tried again. ¡°And everyone respected what he said. No one tried to come between you two. But Rapskal is gone now. I hope he¡¯ll turn up, but if he doesn¡¯t, I wanted you to know that I was, well, waiting and hoping.¡±


    She decided to put an end to all of it, immediately. ¡°Tats. I like you. A lot. We¡¯ve been friends for a long time. And I¡¯m sure that if anyone can understand me, it¡¯s you. But I¡¯m not ¡®choosing¡¯ you or anyone else. Not now, and maybe not ever.¡±


    ¡°But¡­not ever? Why?¡±


    Her annoyance blossomed. ¡°Because. That¡¯s why. Because it¡¯s up to me, not Greft, not you, not anyone else. I won¡¯t be told I have to ¡®choose¡¯ as if there is some time limit and after that, it will not be my choice anymore. I want you and Greft and everyone else to know that perhaps not choosing one of you is a possible choice for me.¡±


    ¡°Thymara!¡± he protested.


    ¡°No,¡± she said flatly, forbidding whatever it was he was going to say. ¡°No. And that¡¯s the end of it. You can tell Greft that, or he can come and talk to me and I¡¯ll tell him.¡±


    ¡°Thymara, that¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a distant sound. At first, Thymara thought it was a horn. She¡¯d heard that Carson was going to look for other survivors, but wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d left already or was going to go in the morning. Then she heard the sound again and realized it was not a horn but a dragon calling.


    From the mucky shallows, first Mercor and then Fente replied. Kalo chimed in with his bull¡¯s roar, and Sestican echoed him.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Tats demanded of the darkness.


    Thymara¡¯s heart leaped in sudden hope. She strained her ears, listening to the distant dragon¡¯s response. Then she shook her head in disappointment. ¡°Not Heeby. Heeby is shriller than that.¡±


    Arbuc suddenly trumpeted, a clear and long call. Silver-green, he moved out of the shallows and into the current. The moonlight touched him, and he seemed to gleam with joy. He swam steadily down the current, toward the unseen dragon. When he lifted his voice again, his thoughts rode loud on it. ¡°Alum! Alum, I come for you!¡±


    Tats and Thymara leaned on the railing, craning and trying to force their eyes to see farther into the blackness. The other keepers were joining them, and she heard Captain Leftrin¡¯s bellow, ¡°Who is it? Has anyone sighted it yet?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the silver!¡± someone on the stern yelled suddenly. ¡°It¡¯s the little silver dragon! And Alum is with him! They¡¯re both alive.¡±


    ¡°Silver! You¡¯re alive!¡± There was no mistaking the joy in Sylve¡¯s shout of greeting to the dragon. He turned his head toward her and, for a moment, looked almost intelligent.


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad!¡± Tats exclaimed, and Thymara nodded silently. She watched the homecoming, sick with envy. Alum tried to embrace his dragon, but Arbuc had grown too large. He transferred from the little silver¡¯s back to Arbuc¡¯s broad one and then leaned forward against his dragon as if by pressing his heart against him, he might become one with him.


    What was wrong with her? Why didn¡¯t she have that sort of a bond with Sintara? Or with anyone? She glanced at Tats surreptitiously. He leaned far out on the railing, grinning. Why didn¡¯t she announce she¡¯d chosen him? Why couldn¡¯t she be like Jerd and charge into things? Jerd had obviously sampled a number of males. Now Greft had proclaimed she was his, and she didn¡¯t seem displeased with that. Would it be so hard? To just take what was offered, without making a commitment?


    The silver, obviously pleased with himself, lashed river water to a froth with his tail and then, spreading his wings, ¡°flew¡± in a series of splashes to join the other dragons in the shallows. The other keepers crowded the aft railings, laughing and shouting and pointing. She began to drift in that direction.


    Without warning, Tats took her hand again. He tugged at her until she turned back to face him. ¡°Don¡¯t be so sad. Rapskal and Heeby might still be alive. We won¡¯t give up hope just yet.¡±


    She looked up at him. He wasn¡¯t that much taller than she was, but the expedition had changed him. He¡¯d muscled out, his shoulders and chest built up by the paddling in a way that was very different from the muscles of a tree-climbing gatherer. She rather liked it. Her eyes moved over his face. The small tattoo of a horse, legacy of the slavery of his infancy, was only an unevenness against his windburned skin in the fading light. The spiderweb was nearly gone. This close to him, she could smell him, and that, too, was not unpleasant. Her eyes met his and she realized how dark they were. His smell suddenly changed, and she realized she was sucking on her own lower lip as she studied his face. She saw him take a breath and dare himself.

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    She acted before he could take the decision from her. She leaned in, turning her head slightly and putting her mouth on his. Was this how it was done? She had never kissed anyone on the mouth. Awkwardness and worry assaulted her. Tats¡¯s arms suddenly moved up and around her, pulling her body against his. His lips moved on hers. He knows how to do this, she thought, and knew an instant of fury at where he¡¯d learned it. Well, she wasn¡¯t Jerd and whether she kissed the right way or not, he¡¯d soon discover that she did things her own way. She shook her head slowly, moving her lips back and forth against his. Scale on softness, she thought, and briefly lost herself in that sensation. His hands wandered up her back and their touch on the tender area between her shoulder blades made her twitch with pain.


    ¡°What is that?¡± he demanded.


    Embarrassment flooded her. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I got cut in the river. It¡¯s sore.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Sorry. It feels really swollen.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s sensitive.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡±


    He bent his head to kiss her again. She let him. Then, from somewhere else on the boat, she heard someone¡¯s voice raised in a question. Someone replied. They weren¡¯t alone here. Not really.


    She pulled her mouth from his and bowed her head. He folded her in close to him and kissed the top of her head greedily. She felt his warm breath, and it sent a shiver down through her. He laughed softly at that. ¡°Is this my answer?¡± he asked her, his voice deeper than she¡¯d ever heard it.


    ¡°To what question?¡± she asked, sincerely puzzled.


    ¡°Are you choosing me?¡±


    Almost, she wanted to lie to him. She didn¡¯t. ¡°I¡¯m choosing to be free, Tats. To not have to choose, not now, not ever if I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°Then, then what does this mean?¡± He hadn¡¯t released her, but there was a stiffness to his embrace that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    ¡°It means that I wanted to kiss you.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s all?¡± He leaned back from her, and she looked up at his face.


    ¡°For now,¡± she admitted. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±


    She was meeting his gaze now. A trick of the light moved stars in his dark eyes. He nodded at her slowly.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough. For now.¡±


    Day the 22nd of the Prayer Moon


    Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


    From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug


    To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown


    In a sealed message cylinder, specific to his family and sealed with wax imprinted with his seal, a confidential message from Trader Sworkin to Trader Kellerby.


    Erek,


    I am both saddened by the news that your father has been ill and relieved to know that you were not on our river when the world went mad. I wish to assure you of our family¡¯s hospitality should you have the opportunity to come for a visit with us. If the other bird keepers could take charge of your flock and responsibilities for a time, perhaps you could accompany Reyall when he returns home to visit, if indeed that visit is possible. I would greatly enjoy finally meeting you after all these years of exchanged notes.


    Detozi


    CHAPTER NINE


    DISCOVERIES


    Sedric.


    ¡°No. Go away. Let me sleep.¡±


    Sedric.


    ¡°I just want to sleep.¡±


    Sedric.


    ¡°What?¡± He projected all his annoyance into the word. It hurt. He lifted his hand to his jaw, then gingerly explored the whole side of his face. It hurt. Of all the bruises that Jess had given him, this one hurt the worst. One of his eyes still wouldn¡¯t open all the way.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡± Her actual voice was a rumbling, gargling sort of sound. The meaning of it rode into his mind as a thought. No time to worry about his own pain. She pushed his own physical state aside with concerns about her own. She was hungry.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have any more hunters to feed you.¡±


    ¡°Never mind. I¡¯m getting up. I¡¯ll see what I can do for you.¡±


    He was still trying to forget yesterday¡¯s events and their bloody culmination.


    The second time Relpda had surfaced, Jess¡¯s lower half had been in her jaws. She¡¯d treated Sedric to one more shocking glimpse of the sheared torso, then merrily tossed the remains into the air, caught them so that they aligned with her throat, and with a couple of jerking motions, swallowed the hunter¡¯s hips and legs.


    He¡¯d turned his head away, retching hopelessly. When he heard a splash and felt the raft rock, he¡¯d guessed it was safe to look back. She¡¯d vanished under the water again. He¡¯d taken a shuddering breath and curled forward over his belly. That left him looking at the pool of mingled blood and river water in the bottom of the boat. He¡¯d scrabbled out of it and perched on the log beside it, trying to think what he must do next.

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    The hunter was dead. He and the dragon had killed Jess. If they hadn¡¯t, Jess would certainly have done his best to kill both of them. Yet it all seemed so monstrous, so hugely outside his experience that he could scarcely grasp it. He¡¯d never expected to kill a man; he¡¯d never expected even to fight or hurt another man. Why would he? If he had remained in his correct place, in Bingtown, working as Hest¡¯s assistant, nothing like this would have ever befallen him.


    If he¡¯d remained with Hest, nothing like this would have ever happened to him.


    Suddenly that had been a thought that could cut both ways.


    The dragon had surfaced noisily. Better, she¡¯d told him. Not so hungry.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy for you.¡±


    The words had been an empty courtesy, but in return she¡¯d given him a flood of warmth. The surge of affection he felt from her had temporarily pushed all pain from his body. She¡¯d followed it with a request. Need help. To get on the wood again.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming.¡± And he¡¯d actually managed to help her to a safer perch, one where she could rest.


    Sometime before nightfall, he¡¯d recovered enough that he¡¯d eaten the fruit that Jess had harvested. His lips were broken and his face hurt where Jess had struck him, but he ignored the pain to eat. The fruit was both food and drink for him, and he was shocked at how much better he felt for it. That done, he¡¯d inventoried the supplies in the boat. The best discovery had been a wool blanket, even if it was wet and smelly. He¡¯d spread it out to let it dry as much as it would before dark.


    He¡¯d forced himself to proceed logically, even to gathering up the piece of line and the fishing spear that Jess had dropped when he¡¯d decided that killing Sedric was more important than killing the dragon. Relpda had watched him from her precarious perch on the logs. When he¡¯d picked up the spear, she¡¯d shuddered and he¡¯d felt her dislike for the weapon.


    ¡°I might be able to get food for us with this,¡± he suggested doubtfully.


    Yes. Maybe. But hurt. See?


    And so he¡¯d had to examine her injury. It was still leaking blood, but her dip beneath the water seemed to have partially cauterized it. ¡°You need to keep that as dry as you can,¡± he¡¯d counseled her. ¡°No more diving.¡±


    Sedric angry?


    Her query had actually sounded anxious. Her tone made him stop to consider her question. ¡°No,¡± he answered honestly. ¡°Not angry. We do what we have to do. We had to kill him or he would have killed us. You ate him because, well, it¡¯s what dragons do. You were hungry. I¡¯m not angry.¡±


    Sedric kill. Sedric protect. Sedric feed Relpda.


    ¡°I suppose I did,¡± he said after a time of horrified reflection. ¡°I suppose I did.¡±


    Sedric my keeper. You will change.


    ¡°I¡¯m changing already,¡± he admitted.


    Yes. Change.


    He wasn¡¯t sure he enjoyed contemplating that.


    That night the damp blanket had provided him with some shelter from the incessantly humming insects, but it could not keep at bay his stinging thoughts. What was he going to do? He had a boat that he didn¡¯t know how to manage, a slightly injured dragon, and a small array of tools that he didn¡¯t know how to use. He didn¡¯t know if any of the others had survived, nor if he should look for them upriver or downriver. No matter which direction he went in, he was fairly certain the dragon would follow him.


    Follow, she¡¯d assured him. Follow Sedric. Relpda and Sedric together.


    Just as he¡¯d accepted that thought, she¡¯d rattled him in a new direction. Easier to think, easier to talk with you here. And in case he hadn¡¯t taken her meaning, she¡¯d sent him a flush of warmth through the connection they shared.


    It had been a long time before he¡¯d been able to sleep, and now that he was awake again, none of his problems seemed simpler. The dragon obviously expected him to feed her. He rubbed his swollen eyes cautiously and tossed his smelly blanket aside. Slowly he sat up and then clambered awkwardly out of the boat. He was too stiff to move comfortably, and he was quite literally sick of every object moving in reaction to every move he made. He was hungry and thirsty, the whole side of his face was swollen, his clothes stuck to his itching, stinging skin, his hair was plastered to his scalp. Abruptly, he stopped enumerating his misery to himself. No point to that except to make himself more miserable.


    Fix.


    Again that warm flush suffused him. This time, as it faded, everything hurt less.


    ¡°Are you healing me?¡± he asked in wonder.


    No. Making you not think about pain so much.


    Like a drug, he thought. Not as reassuring as thinking he was healing, but less pain was good, too. So what should he do?

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    Find food for me.


    Her thoughts were clearer and more cogent. Less separate from his own, he feared. He pushed that thought away as something he couldn¡¯t worry about right now. Right now he had to find a way to feed the dragon, if only to lessen the hunger pangs she was sharing with him. But how?


    There was no quick and satisfying answer to that. The day was mild, the river calmer and the water less white. He had the tools of a hunter, if not the skills. He had a boat. And he had a dragon.


    All he needed to do was decide what to do with those things.


    The closest he came to a decision was walking away from the boat and taking a piss into the river. When he was finished, he spoke. ¡°So, Relpda, what shall we do now?¡±


    Get food.


    ¡°Excellent idea. Except I don¡¯t know how.¡±


    Go hunt. He felt the mental nudge she gave him. It wasn¡¯t comfortable.


    He thought of arguing with her and then decided there was no point to it. She was right. They were both hungry, and the only solution was that one of them find food. And she certainly wasn¡¯t going to do it. He recalled that he had seen Jess coming from the trees with fruit. If the hunter had found fruit up there, then chances were that some remained. Up there. Somewhere.


    Meat. Fish, she insisted. She shifted uncomfortably on the log that supported her. One end of it abruptly broke free of the tangled debris and dipped lower into the water. Slipping! She trumpeted her fear as her thought slammed his mind. Frantically, she reached out and seized a second log with her front claws. Her grip held and she pulled the log closer, managing to hitch herself up partially onto both of them.


    ¡°Good girl! Clever dragon!¡± he praised her.


    And in return, he received that wave of warmth that eased his hurts. But with it came a message. And tired. So tired. Cold, too.


    ¡°I know, Relpda. I know.¡± They weren¡¯t just comforting words. He did know exactly how tired she was, and how her weariness dragged at her. Her front legs ached from hanging on. All her claws felt odd, soft and sore. Her back legs and tail were weary from thrashing. Abruptly she opened her wings and beat them, trying to lift herself higher on the logs. They were stronger than he had thought they were. He felt the wind they stirred and saw her chest rise almost out of the water. For all that, it didn¡¯t help her at all. It just disrupted the tangle of wood and debris in the eddy. As Sedric watched, a clump of tangled weeds broke free and floated off down the river. Not good.


    ¡°Relpda. Relpda. Listen to me. We have to get more logs under your chest and give you a place to rest. Once you are safe, then I can hunt for food for you.¡±


    Rest. A world of longing was in the single word.


    SHE¡¯D SLEPT LATE, yet when she emerged onto the deck, she saw that some of the keepers were sleeping still. Alise wondered if weariness or sorrow weighted them. Two who were not sleeping were Thymara and Jerd. The two girls were on the bow of the Tarman, their legs dangling as they sat on the railing and talked. Alise was mildly surprised to see them together. She had not thought they were friendly with each other, and after what Thymara had told her about Jerd, she doubted they ever would be. She wondered what they were talking about, and if they would welcome her if she joined them. She¡¯d had female friends in Bingtown, but she¡¯d never cherished those friendships as much as some women did. There was a reserve in her that perhaps other women thought cold; she¡¯d never been able to confide in her friends the most intimate details of her marriage, though many had insisted on sharing such with her.


    Yet she thought that now she would welcome another woman¡¯s thoughts. Since her discovery of the locket yesterday, her mind and emotions had been in turmoil. Why would Hest have such a gift made, why entrust it to Sedric, and why hadn¡¯t Sedric passed it on to her? These were questions she could not share with Leftrin; if there was guilt to bear in these matters, it belonged to her alone. It was a question only Sedric could answer, and Sedric was gone. She reined her mind away from that sorrow. Not yet. She would not mourn him yet. There was still hope.


    She wandered the boat, looking for Bellin. When she finally found her, she was in the deckhouse, sitting on Skelly¡¯s bunk. Bellin¡¯s face was serious, and she held both of Skelly¡¯s hands. Tears had tracked down the girl¡¯s face recently. Bellin¡¯s eyes flickered to Alise¡¯s face, and a very slight change in her facial expression told Alise to go away silently without alerting Skelly to her presence. Alise gave a small nod and ghosted away, back to pacing a circuit of the deck.


    Thymara had rolled her trousers up to her knees. As she swung her legs, her scales glittered silver in the sunlight. She sat hunched over, but Jerd sat straight and tall, almost pushing her stomach out. Alise envied them: they had so much freedom. No one fretted that they were showing too much leg, or even that they might fall in. Everyone on the vessel assumed they knew what they were about and left them to it. They reminded her of Althea Trell and how competently she had moved about the deck of the Paragon. Althea, she reminded herself, was of Bingtown Trader stock, just as she was. So she could not really blame where she came from for the limitations on her. No, she realized slowly. She was the one who had accepted those limitations and brought them with her. She was the one who lived by the restrictive rules.

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    She thought of Leftrin with frustration and longing. She sensed in him tenderness and passion, two things she had never received from Hest. Leftrin woke like feelings in her. Why couldn¡¯t she just go to him and give herself to him as she longed to? The man obviously wanted to bed her, and she wanted him.


    There was a wild part of her that insisted they were too far up this strange river, and that she did not need to worry about what might happen to her after she returned to Bingtown. That part believed that she might never return at all. And whether she died on this mad adventure or lived it out to the end, shouldn¡¯t she live all of it, have all of it, instead of holding back from it? Coldly she realized that Sedric was not here to look at her with doleful accusing eyes. Her conscience was gone; she could do as she pleased.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lovelier day with you on the deck, my dear.¡±


    She felt a warm rush of pleasure at hearing his voice and turned to find Leftrin bearing down on her. He carried two cups of tea. As she took the heavy, stained mug from his calloused and scaled hand, she thought of how she might have flinched away from him only a month ago. She would have wondered if the mug were clean and tsked over the stale tea. Now she knew that the mug had been given only a tiny swirl of water to clean it, or perhaps been wiped out with a rag. Knew and didn¡¯t care. As for the tea, well¡­She toasted him with her mug. ¡°Best tea to be had for miles around!¡±


    ¡°It is that,¡± he agreed. ¡°And the best company to be had in the entire world, I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    She laughed softly and looked down at her hands. Her freckles were dark against her water-scalded skin. She didn¡¯t want to think about her face and hair. She had glanced at them in the small dim mirror in her cabin after she had brushed and pinned up her hair and given it up as hopeless. ¡°How can you give me such outrageous compliments and not sound foolish doing it?¡±


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re the right audience for such words. And maybe I don¡¯t care if I sound foolish, for I know it¡¯s the truth.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Leftrin.¡± She turned to look out over the river, resting her teacup on the ship¡¯s railing. ¡°What are we going to do?¡± She hadn¡¯t known she was going to ask him that. The question came out of her as naturally as the steam that rose off her tea.


    He purposely misunderstood her. ¡°Well, Carson left before dawn. We¡¯re going to hold in place here for a day. The dragons can rest a bit and gorge some more. A little bit upriver, they found an eddy full of acid-killed fish. So we¡¯ll let them eat and rest while Carson continues the search. He¡¯ll go another full day down the river. If he finds survivors, he¡¯ll guide them back to us. If he finds nothing, he¡¯ll give it up and come on back to us. He took the horn with him, and the sound carries quite a ways. I heard him blow three long blasts, not that long ago.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear it.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was faint, and I¡¯m accustomed to listening for such things.¡± Something in his tone rang oddly to her. She sensed a secret but was willing, for now, to let it go.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll find anyone else?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s impossible to predict a thing like that. But we found almost all our survivors in one place. So, it seems to me that what that river picked up in one place, it kept mostly together and dumped in another place.¡±


    He stopped talking, but she pieced his logic together. ¡°So you think that if anyone survived to be found, they would have been with us.¡±


    He nodded reluctantly. ¡°Most likely. But we found that dragon off by herself.¡±


    ¡°And Warken¡¯s body.¡±


    ¡°And the body,¡± he agreed. ¡°That says to me that most everything that was in our area when the wave hit was carried by the wash to this area.¡±


    She was silent for a time. ¡°Heeby and Rapskal? The copper dragon?¡±


    ¡°Probably dead and on the bottom. Or buried under debris. Dead dragons that size wouldn¡¯t be hard to spot.¡±


    ¡°And Sedric?¡±


    His silence was longer than hers had been. Finally he said, ¡°Speaking bluntly, Alise, the keepers survived because they¡¯re tough. Their skin can stand up to these waters. They all know how to climb a tree if they can get to one. They¡¯re made for this life. Sedric wasn¡¯t. There was no muscle to that man to begin with, and his long days of lying abed, sick or not, would only have weakened him more. I try to imagine him swimming in that wave, and I can¡¯t. I fear he¡¯s gone. It¡¯s not your fault. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s my fault, either. I think it¡¯s just what happened.¡±

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    Did he mention fault only because he secretly knew it was her fault? ¡°I brought him into this, Leftrin. He wasn¡¯t your idea of tough, I know. But in his own way, he was strong, capable, and very competent. He was Hest¡¯s right hand. I¡¯ll never know why he decided to send him with me.¡± Her words stuttered to a halt. Unless Hest had believed that she deserved the kind of watching over her that Sedric had tried to provide.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t saying he wasn¡¯t a good man, only that I doubted he was a good swimmer,¡± Leftrin said gently. ¡°And we don¡¯t have to give up hope. We¡¯ve got a strong man looking for him. I think Carson wants to find him as badly as you do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m grateful to him. I don¡¯t know how to thank him for being so determined.¡±


    Leftrin gave a small cough. ¡°Well, I think he¡¯s hoping that Sedric will do the thanking. Them being the same kind of men and all.¡±


    ¡°The same kind of men? I can¡¯t think of two men more unlike.¡±


    Leftrin shot her an odd look and then shrugged. ¡°Like enough in the ways that matter to them, I¡¯m thinking. But let¡¯s let that go. It¡¯s enough to say that Carson won¡¯t give up easily.¡±


    ¡°SO WHY DID you do it, then? If you didn¡¯t think you were, well, in love with him?¡±


    Jerd lifted one shoulder. ¡°I guess that I¡¯d decided I was going to live my own life just as soon as I left Trehaug. It was like keeping a promise to myself. And¡±¡ªshe smiled wryly¡ª¡°he was the first. It was flattering, I guess, that someone as soft-skinned as him would, well, want me. I don¡¯t have to explain that to you. After a lifetime of being told that no one should touch you, that no one would or could touch you because you were born too much of a monster? Then a soft-skinned boy with a gentle manner doesn¡¯t seem to think it matters¡­that just made me feel free. So I decided to be free.¡±


    ¡°So.¡± Thymara swallowed and tried to think how to phrase her next question. She was the one who had sought Jerd out. And she¡¯d been surprised that the other girl hadn¡¯t rebuffed her attempts at conversation. Neither of them had brought up Thymara¡¯s spying on her and Greft. With a bit of luck, neither of them would. Perhaps Jerd was as uncomfortable about that as she was. She considered her question one last time. Did she really want to know?


    ¡°So, then, he came to you. Not you to him.¡±


    Jerd glanced across at her and made a disparaging face. ¡°I followed him into the woods. Is that what you¡¯re asking? Or are you asking who touched whom first? Because I¡¯m not sure I remember¡­¡± She sat up straighter, put her hand on her slight belly, and asked, ¡°Why do you care, anyway?¡±


    Thymara was suddenly sure that Jerd did remember, perfectly well. And she saw that she had just handed the other girl a little knife that she could use to dig at her anytime she wanted. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she lied. ¡°I just wondered.¡±


    ¡°If you want him, you can have him,¡± Jerd offered magnanimously. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve got Greft, you know. And it isn¡¯t like I wanted Tats permanently. I wouldn¡¯t take him away from you.¡±


    So she thought she could. Could she? ¡°And you didn¡¯t want Rapskal permanently?¡± Thymara countered. ¡°Nor any of them?¡±


    If she¡¯d thought to pierce the other girl, she¡¯d missed. Jerd gave a laugh. ¡°No, not Rapskal! Though he was sweet, so boyish, and so handsome. But once with him was enough for me! He laughed in such a silly way; very annoying. Oh! I¡¯m sorry he¡¯s gone, though. I know you were close, and I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t find his silly ways annoying at all. It must be very hard for you to lose him.¡±


    The bitch. Thymara willed her throat not to close, her eyes not to tear, and failed. It wasn¡¯t that she¡¯d been in love with him. He was just too strange. But he¡¯d been Rapskal and her friend; his absence left a hole in her life.


    ¡°It is hard. Too hard.¡± Without apology or explanation, Thymara swung her legs to the other side of the railing and hopped down. As she did, she felt a brief vibration of sympathy from Tarman. As she walked away, she let her hand trail along the railing, assuring him of her mutual regard for him. She saw Hennesey, the mate, give her an odd look and immediately lifted her hand from the railing. He gave her a slow, unsmiling nod as she passed. She¡¯d crossed a line just then and she knew it. She wasn¡¯t part of Tarman¡¯s crew and had no right to communicate with the ship that way. Even if he had started it.


    That thought brought an unwelcome comparison to what Jerd had said about Tats. She forced herself to think about it. Did it matter if Tats had initiated things with Jerd? Wasn¡¯t it something that was over and done with?

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    ¡°NOW, JUST STAY like that. Rest and don¡¯t move. I¡¯ll try to find more food for you.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    Sedric looked again at the dragon on her bed of logs and marveled at all of it, at the logs they had moved together, at how he had visualized it and created it, and how he had managed to get her up and out of the water. In the process of finding logs he could move and shifting them toward her, he had discovered several large dead fish floating in the water, and one carcass that might have been a monkey. Touching the soft dead things had been disgusting. Not fresh, she had complained, but she¡¯d eaten them. Then, despite the sting of the water, he¡¯d scrubbed most of the stink from them off his hands.


    ¡°We work well together.¡± She spoke in his ears and in his mind.


    ¡°We do,¡± he agreed, and he tried not to wonder too much if that were a good thing.


    It had taken the morning and half the afternoon to achieve this. He¡¯d seen that if he could force several of the larger logs up against the trees, he might be able to secure them there and make a dragon-size raft. He¡¯d begun with one log that was already butted firmly against several thick trees. The eddying current held it there. He¡¯d moved the brush, small branches, and other debris that was packed between it and another log. It had been wet heavy work, and his soaked clothing still chafed against his river-scalded skin. Long before he had finished, his hands were stiff and sore, his back ached, and he felt almost dizzy from the effort. Relpda had been impatient as he worked, mooing her distress and fear. Slowly her anxiety had crept into irritation and anger.


    Help me! Slipping. Help. Not do wood. Help ME!


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to. I¡¯m building something for you, something you can get onto.¡±


    Anger made her thrash both tail and wings, nearly knocking him into the water. ¡°Help now! Build later!¡±


    ¡°Relpda, I have to build first, then help.¡±


    NO! Her wild trumpeting split the sky, and the force of her thought staggered him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± he warned her. ¡°If I fall in the river and drown, you¡¯ll be alone. No one to help you.¡±


    Fall in, I eat you! Then no build trees. She sent him the thought silently but with no less force.


    ¡°Relpda!¡± For a moment, he was both outraged and terrified that she would threaten him. Then the cold current of fear that underlay her words snaked through his heart. She didn¡¯t understand. She thought he was ignoring her. ¡°Relpda, look: if I can push enough of the big trees together here and make them stay, then¡ª¡±


    Help Relpda NOW!


    She pushed him again with her thought, and he almost blacked out. He responded in anger. ¡°Look at what I¡¯m trying to do!¡± And he shoved back hard against her stubborn little lizard brain, sending her the image of a thick raft of logs and branches, with Relpda curled safely upon it.


    She snorted furiously and hit the water with her wings, splashing him. Then, Oh, she exclaimed. Now I see. It all makes sense. I¡¯ll help you.


    Her sudden fluency astounded him. ¡°What?¡±


    I¡¯ll help you push the logs into place. And clear the brush that blocks them from fitting snugly together.


    She was in his mind, using his vision, his thoughts, his words. He shuddered at the sudden intimacy, and she shivered her hide in response. He tried to pull back from her and couldn¡¯t. On his second effort, she reluctantly parted her thoughts from his.


    Relpda help?


    ¡°Yes. Relpda help,¡± he¡¯d replied when he felt he could form words of his own again.


    And she had. Despite her weariness and the soreness of her clawed feet, she swam about, pushing debris out of the way and shoving logs where he indicated. When their first effort came to pieces, she¡¯d given one shrill trumpet of protest and despair. And then, when he called her back to their task, she¡¯d come. She¡¯d listened to him as he directed her to sink logs and push them under their row of timbers. When he told her she¡¯d have to tread water while he roped their latest effort with their pitifully short piece of line, she¡¯d done it. And then, cautiously, she¡¯d clambered up onto her uneven bed of logs. And rested. Her body began to warm. He hadn¡¯t realized how much her exhaustion had been affecting him until she suddenly relaxed. He nearly fainted with her relief.


    Sleep now.


    ¡°Yes. You sleep. It¡¯s what you need most right now.¡±


    He himself needed food. And water. How pathetic to long, not for wine or well-prepared food, but a simple drink of water. And now he was right back to where he had been hours ago, except that most of his daylight was gone. Soon darkness would fall, and he¡¯d be back to huddling under a smelly blanket in a small boat. He glanced at the sky and decided that he had to at least try to find where Jess had found the fruit.

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    Meat. She¡¯d been following his thoughts sleepily, and the idea of fruit didn¡¯t please her. Find meat. She let the sharpness of her hunger touch him. He was appalled. He¡¯d just fed her!


    Not enough.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll find some meat.¡± Then, trying to accept the desperation of their situation, he forced himself to say, ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    He walked back to the boat and looked at the selection of animal-killing tools that remained to him. The hatchet still lay in the bloody bilgewater. His gorge rose as he picked it out and set it on the seat to dry. Jess¡¯s blood, diluted with slimy water, was on his hands now. He knelt and thrust his hand down through the matted debris and into the river water to sluice it off. To his surprise, it did not sting as he had expected it to. Was he becoming accustomed to it? A glance around at the river showed him that not only was it far less acid than it had been, but that the level was much lower. The high water mark on the tree trunks was well over his head now.


    He worked his way over to the cage of tree trunks that edged the river, stepping from log to log. Sometimes they bobbed deeper than he expected, and one spun under his foot, nearly dumping him into the river. But at last he stood at the edge of the forest, looking up at the trees. He knew he¡¯d seen Jess descend one of those trunks, but they all suddenly looked much smoother than they had before. When was the last time he¡¯d climbed a tree? He couldn¡¯t have been more than ten years old, and it had been a friendly apple tree, its branches laden with sweet fruit. The memory of those apples made him swallow hard against his hunger. Well, no help for it. Up he must go.


    The horn¡¯s long low call startled him. He spun to face it as Relpda lifted her head and trumpeted out a response to it. The sound seemed to come from all around him. He stared around wildly, even looking up into the trees. Relpda was gazing upstream and as he watched her, she lifted her chin again and trumpeted.


    By hops and tiptoeing runs, he ventured to the very edge of the packed debris and peered upriver. The light on the water dazzled him and for a time he could see nothing. Then, as if salvation were appearing in response to his most heartfelt dream, he made out the outline of a small boat and a man at the oars. And it was coming toward them. He lifted both his arms and waved them over his head. ¡°Hey! Over here, over here!¡± he shouted, and in response, the man in the boat lifted a hand and waved at him.


    Slowly, so slowly, the boat and its occupant grew larger. Sedric¡¯s eyes ran with tears, and not all of them were from the effort of keeping his light-dazzled gaze on the water. Carson recognized him before he knew the hunter. ¡°SEDRIC!¡± he cried, sending his deep-chested shout of joy across the water to him. Then the hunter redoubled his efforts with the oars. It still seemed an eternity before Sedric could kneel and catch the line that Carson tossed to him. He drew the boat in close to the logs and then didn¡¯t know what else to do. He was grinning foolishly, trembling with relief.


    ¡°Thank Sa you¡¯re alive! And the dragon, too? That¡¯s a double miracle, then. And she¡¯s up and out of the water! How did you do it? Look at you! The river worked you over, didn¡¯t it? Here, let me take that and I¡¯ll make her fast. What do you need first? Water? Food? I thought I¡¯d find you half dead if I found you at all!¡±


    He stood shaking as Carson did all the talking for both of them. In moments the boat was secured to the edge of the debris island, and without his asking, Carson was offering him a waterskin. He drank greedily, paused to mutter, ¡°Sa be praised and thank you,¡± before drinking again. Carson watched him, his grin white in his beard. He looked weary and yet so triumphant that he shone.


    As Sedric returned the waterskin to him, the hunter pushed a flat ship¡¯s biscuit into his hands. Sedric suddenly felt giddy with the smell of food. Perhaps he swayed on his feet, for Carson caught his elbow. ¡°Sit down. Sit down and eat slow. You¡¯re going to be all right now. You¡¯ve had a bad time, but everything¡¯s come right now. For you, too!¡± he assured Relpda as the dragon trumpeted her protest that Sedric was eating and she wasn¡¯t. Sedric was grateful but suddenly so hungry he could scarcely focus on Carson¡¯s words or Relpda¡¯s complaints. He broke off a piece of the hard bread and chewed it slowly. His jaw hurt, and he couldn¡¯t chew on the bruised side. Swallowing food made the pain worth it. He broke off another bite and ate it slowly.


    Carson left him and went over to speak with the dragon. When he came back, he was shaking his head in admiration. ¡°That¡¯s a nice bit of work there; it will probably fall apart if she moves around at all, but having a place to haul out is better than any of the other dragons have had.¡±

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    The words slowly penetrated Sedric¡¯s mind, and he remembered that there were more things in the world to consider than just food and water. He spoke with his broken mouth full. ¡°Who survived?¡±


    ¡°Well, more survived than went missing. Took us a day or two, but we¡¯ve gathered up most everyone. Now that I¡¯ve found you and the copper, we¡¯re only missing Rapskal, his dragon, and Jess. We found poor Warken dead, and Ranculos is badly bruised, but other than some injuries, everyone else is fine. How about you? You look more battered than anyone else.¡±


    He touched his face self-consciously. ¡°A bit.¡±


    Carson gave a low laugh. ¡°From here, it looks like more than ¡®a bit¡¯ to me. So. It¡¯s only you and the dragon here. No one else?¡±


    ¡°Only us,¡± he replied guardedly. How would Carson feel if he knew that he and Relpda had killed the other hunter? He had frequently seen the two men together on the boat, and they often partnered each other in their hunting tasks. Now was no time to risk offending his savior. If he said nothing about Jess, no one would ever know.


    Unless Relpda said something.


    A tremor of fear went through him. The dragon reacted to it. Danger? Eat hunter?


    ¡°No, Relpda, no. No danger. The hunter will find food for you, but not right now.¡± He mended her words as best he could and then said to Carson quietly, ¡°She¡¯s been a bit more confused since the big wave.¡±


    ¡°Well. I think we all have. But she has a point. She has to be ravenous. She was never fat to begin with, and it looks like the last couple of days have winnowed her down. Relpda? I know that dragons prefer fresh meat, but I saw an elk carcass floating not far from here. Shall I show you where?¡±


    ¡°Bring to Relpda. Relpda tired.¡±


    ¡°Carson tired, too,¡± the hunter muttered, but it was a good-natured complaint. ¡°I¡¯ll go put a line on the stinking thing and pull it down here. You want me to leave the water with you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡± The words were out of his mouth reflexively. Rescue had only just arrived.


    Carson grinned and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be back. I¡¯ve gone to all this trouble to find you. I¡¯m not about to abandon you here.¡± Carson¡¯s gaze met Sedric¡¯s, and the words seemed to come from the hunter¡¯s heart. Sedric didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he managed at last. He looked away from the man¡¯s earnest gaze. ¡°I must seem a coward to you. Or an incompetent idiot.¡±


    ¡°Neither one, I assure you. I won¡¯t be long. I¡¯m leaving the water with you. It¡¯s all we¡¯ve got right now, so go as easy on it as you can.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all we¡¯ve got? Why did you let me drink so much?¡± Sedric was horrified.


    ¡°Because you needed it. Now, let me go get Relpda some nice rotten elk, and then I¡¯ll be back. Maybe I¡¯ll still have enough light to go up the trees and look for more food for us.¡±


    ¡°Jess¡ª¡± Sedric halted his words. He¡¯d nearly told him that Jess had found fruit nearby. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Don¡¯t mention the other hunter.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Just be careful.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m always that. I¡¯ll be back soon enough.¡±


    THE WATER HAD gone down. There was still plenty of dead fish to eat. It wasn¡¯t fresh, but it was filling. She wasn¡¯t dead. At least, not yet.


    Sintara shifted her weight. Her feet were sore from the constant immersion. The water was less acid than it had been, but her claws still felt soft, as if they were decaying. And she had never had less hope for herself.


    She, Sintara, a dragon who should have ruled the sea, the sky, and the land, had been picked up and tumbled head over heels like a rabbit struck by a hawk. She¡¯d floundered and gasped. She¡¯d clung to a log like a drowning rat. ¡°No dragons have ever endured what we have,¡± she said. ¡°None has ever sunk so low.¡±


    ¡°There is nothing ¡®low¡¯ about survival,¡± Mercor contradicted her. As always, his voice was calm, almost placid. ¡°Think of it as experience hard won, Sintara. When you die and are eaten, or when your young hatch from the egg, they will carry forward your memories of this time. No hardship endured is a loss. Someone will learn from it. Someone profits from it.¡±


    ¡°Someone is tired of your philosophizing,¡± scarlet Ranculos grumbled. He coughed, and Sintara smelled blood. She moved closer to him. Among the dragons, his injury was the most serious. Something had struck his ribs as he tumbled in the flood. She could sense the pain he felt with every breath. For the most part, their scaled bodies had protected them. Sestican had a bruised wing that ached when he tried to open it. Veras complained of a burned throat from swallowing acid water. The lesser bruises that they all had scarcely seemed worth mentioning. They were dragons. They would heal.

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    The river had retreated as the day wore on. There was something of a shore now. Bushes festooned with streamers of dead vines stuck up in a long bar of silty mud. It was a relief to be able to stand, to have her belly out of water, but walking about in the thick sucking mud was almost as wearying as swimming.


    ¡°So what would you have me say, Ranculos? That after we have come this far, through so much adversity, we should now lie down and die?¡± Mercor came slogging over to them. To stand so close to one another was not a normal behavior for dragons, Sintara recognized. But they were not normal dragons. Their years huddled together in the limited space near Cassarick had changed them. In times like these, times when they were weary and uncertain, they tended to gather. It would have been comforting to lie down and sleep next to Ranculos. But she would not. The mud was too deep. She would stand and doze tonight and dream of deserts and hot dry sand.


    ¡°No. Not here, at least,¡± Ranculos replied wearily.


    Big blue Sestican slogged his way over to them. Mud streaked his azure hide. ¡°Then it¡¯s agreed. Tomorrow we move on.¡±


    ¡°Nothing is agreed,¡± Mercor replied mildly. The gold dragon opened his wings and shook them lightly. Water and mud pattered down. His peacock-eyes markings were streaked with grime. She had not seen him so dirty since they had left Cassarick.


    ¡°Strange,¡± Sestican commented sourly. ¡°It sounded to me that we had decided not to lie down and die here. So the alternative would be, I think, to keep moving on, toward Kelsingra.¡±


    ¡°Kelsingra,¡± said Fente. She made the name sound like a curse. The little green dragon fluffed out the fronds of her immature mane. If she¡¯d been properly grown, it would have appeared threatening. As it was, she reminded Sintara of a green-and-gold blossom on a skinny stem.


    ¡°I, for one, see no reason to wait for the keepers. We don¡¯t need them.¡± Kalo wandered over. He limbered his wings as he came, spreading their blue-black expanse and shaking them to rid them of mud. They were larger than Mercor¡¯s. Was he attempting to remind them all that he was the largest and most powerful male?


    ¡°You¡¯re splattering mud all over me. Stop it.¡± Sintara lifted the frills along her neck, confident that her own display was at least as intimidating as his.


    ¡°You¡¯re so covered with mud now, I don¡¯t know how you¡¯d tell,¡± Kalo complained, but he folded his wings all the same.


    Sintara was in no mood to let him make peace so easily. ¡°And you may not need your keeper, but I¡¯ve a use for mine. Tomorrow I will have them both groom me. I might have to stand in mud, but there¡¯s no reason I must wear it.¡±


    ¡°Mine is negligent. Lazy. Full of himself. Angry at everyone.¡± Kalo¡¯s eyes spun with anger and unhappiness.


    ¡°Does he still think that perhaps butchering a dragon and selling him like meat would solve his problems?¡± Sestican baited him happily.


    Kalo rose to it. No matter how often he complained of what a poor keeper Greft was, he would not tolerate comments critical of him. Even after Greft had made his obscene suggestion, Kalo had snapped at any of the others who dared complain about him. So now he opened his jaws wide and hissed loudly at Sestican.


    He seemed as surprised as any of them when a bluish mist of venom issued from his mouth, to hang briefly in the air. Sintara lidded her eyes and turned her face away. ¡°What are you about?¡± Fente demanded angrily. The little green splattered mud up on all of them as she scampered out of reach of the cloud. Sestican immediately stretched his own jaws wide and gathered breath.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Mercor commanded. ¡°Stop it, both of you!¡±


    He had no more right to issue orders than any other dragon. Nonetheless, that never prevented him from doing it, thought Sintara. And almost always, the others obeyed him. There was something in his bearing that commanded their respect, even their loyalty. Now he waded closer to Kalo. The big blue-black dragon stood his ground, even half lifting his wings as if he would challenge Mercor. But the golden dragon had no intention of seeking battle. Instead, he stared intently at the other big male, his black eyes whirling as if they gathered up the darkness around them.


    ¡°Now do that again,¡± Mercor challenged him, but not as male to male. Rather he stared at Kalo as if he could not believe what he had witnessed. He was not alone. The other dragons, sensing something about the urgency in Mercor¡¯s voice, were drawing nearer.


    ¡°But downwind of us!¡± Sestican interjected.


    ¡°And put some heart in it,¡± Mercor added.


    Kalo folded his wings. He did it slowly, and slowly was how he turned away from the gathering dragons, to face downwind of them. If he was attempting to make it appear he was not obeying Mercor, he failed, thought Sintara. But she kept the thought to herself, for she too wished to see if he could, indeed, spit venom. All of them should have been capable of it since they emerged from their cases, but none had achieved reliability or potency with that most basic weapon in a dragon¡¯s arsenal. Had Kalo? She watched his ribs swell as he took in air. This time, she saw him work the poison glands in his throat. The muscles in his powerful neck rippled. He threw back his head and snapped it forward, jaws opening wide. He roared and a visible mist of bluish toxin rode with the sound. It drifted in a cloud over the water. She was not the only dragon to rumble in amazement. She watched the toxin disperse and heard the very soft hiss when acid met acid as it settled on the water.