The Dragon Keeper (45 page)

She hadn’t expected him to have an answer, but he looked startled, as if she had asked him something of great significance. When he answered, his words came slowly. “Maybe because we let them be that way.”

SEDRIC FELT AS if he’d been hit in the back of the head. Twice. First by the glimpse of the extraordinary young man who’d seemed to dispute his right to ask Thymara to translate for him. He’d never seen such a person, at least not unveiled and unhooded. Most people marked as strongly by the Rain Wilds as Greft was went veiled. But Greft didn’t. Was that a defiance of custom, or had they traveled far enough up the Rain Wild River that the locals no longer cared what outsiders thought of them?

There had been a definite reptilian cast to his features that somehow only lent power to his presence. His blue eyes had gleamed like polished lapis lazuli beneath his finely scaled brows. The austere lines of his face reminded Sedric of a sculpture, save that this was no cold stone. He was closer to an animal than anyone Sedric had ever met. He’d felt he could almost smell him, as if the dominance Greft sought to assert were a musk emanating from him. Even his voice had held an inhuman tenor, a hum that reminded Sedric of a bow drawn across dark strings. The scales repelled him and the voice attracted him. No wonder the girl at his side was so agitated by his presence. Anyone would be.

Even Hest. He and Hest would have collided like antlered bucks battling for territory. Even as that thought occurred to him, the girl had asked that telling question. It had snapped a stinging realization into his mind. Hest didn’t like him being friends with Alise. Hest didn’t want him to have conversations with her or have opinions about her. She was supposed to be something he’d surrendered to Hest, a part of his past he’d given to the man when he suggested that marrying her would put an end to his problem with his parents. He didn’t like thinking of all the implications of that. He pushed aside the thought of other friendships he’d neglected for Hest’s, even how he’d alienated his father by taking the position with Hest rather than striking out on his own or following his father into his business.

He forced himself to focus on the business at hand. He glanced over at the annoyed girl stalking along beside him. “I’m sorry I created problems for you.”

She snorted in amusement. “Oh, you didn’t create them. They came with who I am, and multiplied when I signed a contract to do this. That’s all.” She cleared her throat and he could almost see her wrench the topic to one side. “Why is Alise awake so early for this?”

“She’s eager, I suppose. Once we start to travel, I suspect she’ll have little time for chatting with the dragons.” That wasn’t the truth. He’d wakened Alise and suggested to her that she attempt an interview before the day’s travel began. She’d been very willing, appearing fully dressed only a few minutes later. He was hoping against hope that they would both have all they needed before the dragons actually departed. That hope was fading now, but this was his final chance. If the results of this morning’s “interview” were as lackluster as what she’d recounted to him last night, perhaps he could persuade her that she’d learn more by remaining in Cassarick for a few days and studying the ruins there. If luck favored him, perhaps they’d still find a way to connect with Captain Trell and journey home on the
Paragon
.

“Or it could be that she’ll find she has far more time than she can actually fill. I suspect this expedition is going to take a lot longer than they told us it would. I don’t think anyone actually knows where we are going, and the folk who aren’t going with us don’t much care, as long as we take the dragons with us when we leave.”

Sedric thought that summed it up nicely, but it hardly seemed kind to say so. He tried to find a way to steer the conversation back to something he’d overheard earlier. When inspiration didn’t strike, he simply pushed it there. “So. In addition to the blue dragon, you’ll be taking care of a silver one?”

“So I said,” she admitted. She sounded as if she regretted it now.

“Tats said the dragon was injured? Something about his tail?”

“I haven’t taken a close look at it, but he has some sort of wound there and it looks infected. The dragons are fairly immune to the acidity of the river water, as are the water birds and fish. As long as their hides are intact, they do fine. But the water eats away at open sores. So we need to clean the injury, bandage it well, and somehow make sure he doesn’t get his tail in the water if we have to do any wading. And I consider it very likely that we will.”

Alise and the blue dragon were walking by the river. The dragon made her seem tiny. Sedric knew that Thymara had spotted them as well, for the girl quickened her pace. He deliberately walked more slowly, holding her back. What he had to say to her was not for Alise’s ears. “I’ve always had an interest in animals and medicine, and dragons in particular. Perhaps I could be of some assistance in helping the poor thing.”

Thymara shot him a startled look. “You?”

It rather stung. “Well, why not me?”

“I just . . . well, you can’t even understand them when you hear them speak. And you’re so, well, particular. Clean, I guess I mean. It’s hard for me to imagine you dealing with a muddy dragon with an infected tail.”

He put a smile on his face. “You’ve only just met me, Thymara. I think you’ll find there’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.” That at least was true!

“Well, I suppose if you want to help, you can. But first I’ll translate while Alise talks to Skymaw. I don’t think that will be for long, for they’ll be bringing the dragons’ food soon, and I know Skymaw will want to eat just as much as the others. But after they’ve been fed, I want to check on the silver and see what I can do for him.”

“Perfect. I’ll gather my equipment and come with you then.”

“Equipment?”

“I’ve some basic medical supplies I brought with us for this journey. Lint and bandages. Sharp knives, if we need them. Alcohol for cleaning wounds.” And for preserving specimens. With a bit of luck, he might have a vial of dragon scales before they even left the beach. Sedric smiled at her reassuringly.

IT WAS NOT going well with the dragons. Alise knew it, and the sense of impending failure burdened her. Why had she ever imagined that it would be easy to talk with dragons? Yet in her dreams, when she arrived at the Rain Wilds, the creatures had sensed a kinship with her and opened their hearts and memories to her. Well, that fantasy certainly wasn’t coming true.

“Can you share with me any of your ancestral memories?” she asked the dragon. She phrased it that way out of despair. Skymaw, as her keeper called her, had neatly deflected every question she’d asked of her.

“I doubt it. You are only a human and I am a dragon. In all likelihood, it would be impossible for you to ever share the remotest idea of what it is to be a dragon, let alone comprehend any of my memories.”

Skymaw dashed her hopes yet again. And she did it with a wellmodulated voice that was treacly with courtesy and kindness. Her lovely eyes spun as she spoke to Alise, and Alise’s heart yearned for a bond with this creature. She knew she was falling under the dragon’s glamour; she recognized the hopelessness of the unrequited worship she felt for the dragon. Yet she could not help herself. The more the dragon patronized and insulted her, the more she longed to win her regard. It didn’t help that she’d read of such things in her old scrolls. One could read about addiction and still fall prey to it.

She made a final desperate attempt. “Do you think you will ever answer any of my questions?”

The dragon regarded her in silence. Without moving, she seemed to come closer to Alise. Alise was flooded with a mawkish love for the creature. If only she could spend all her days in ser vice to the dragon, she would be happy. She had been right to come to the Rain Wilds, and if she did not accompany this dragon up the river, all of her life would have been a meaningless tragedy. Skymaw was her destiny. No other relationship could fulfill her as this one—

As abruptly as a dropped doll hits the floor, Alise jolted back to the summer day on the riverbank. “They’re bringing the food,” the dragon announced suddenly, and Alise actually felt the creature dismiss her. It had been a glamour. The dragon had been toying with her. She could not deny it, and she should have felt shamed to have fallen under her charm so easily. Instead she felt only a wretched longing to regain Skymaw’s attention. It echoed unpleasantly how Hest had once made her feel, and that memory of utter humiliation finally broke the spell. Something hardened in her, and she turned away from the dragon. All that she had longed for was never going to be, not with Hest and her life in Bingtown, and not with her foolish dreams of journeying with the dragons. Abruptly she wished she could give up and go home.

Did the dragon know she had lost her worshipper? It almost seemed that way, for on the way to the barrows of carrion, Skymaw suddenly halted and looked back at her. Alise looked resolutely away. No. She would not fall under her spell again. It was over.

“Oh, dear. It looks as if we’re too late.”

Sedric’s voice startled her. It was even more surprising to discover that he had arrived with Skymaw’s keeper in tow. The girl looked as disapproving of her as ever; or perhaps that was an assumption on Alise’s part. The way her exposure to the Rain Wilds had disfigured her, it was hard to read the girl’s expressions.

“Skymaw was hungry and decided to go and eat rather than answer questions,” she explained needlessly. She glanced at the girl, wishing she weren’t there, and then spoke anyway. Her words came out stiff ly, as if the lump in her throat had squeezed all inflection out of them. “Sedric, I’ve discovered that you were right. Brashen Trell and his wife were right. Even Hest was right. I’m not making any headway in speaking to the dragon. She delights in thwarting me.” She formed the last and most difficult words. “I’ve put us both through so much to get here. I foolishly signed an agreement to go upriver. And now I wonder if I will gain any real knowledge of dragons at all from this experience. That creature is so, so—”

“Exasperating,” Thymara supplied quietly, with a small smile.

“Exactly!” Alise replied. And to her surprise, she found herself smiling back at the girl.

“Well, at least I know that it isn’t only me.” Thymara cocked her head at Alise and asked shyly, “Does this mean you’re giving up and going back to Bingtown?”

Alise could not miss the mixed emotions that flickered across Sedric’s face. Hope seemed to be a strong one, but anxiety was there as well. He spoke before she could. “It’s perfectly understandable if you’ve decided not to make the journey, Alise. I can have us packed and unloaded from Leftrin’s barge in a very short time. But before we do that, I promised Thymara that I’d assist her with one of the other dragons. An injured one.”

“The silver,” Thymara said quietly.

Alise looked from Sedric to Thymara and back again, trying to make sense of his words. She had never known him to have any fondness for or interest in animals. Oh, he shared some of her scholastic interest in dragons, but she had never seen him pet a dog or talk to his horse. And now he was going to assist this girl in doctoring a dragon? There was something here, and she felt she stood at the edge of a strange and perhaps dark current. Could he possibly be interested in the girl? She was so young and so peculiar looking. It would be very inappropriate. She spoke without thinking.

“I’ll come along. Perhaps it is only Skymaw who is so difficult. You are right, Sedric. I should not give up so easily, especially after I gave my word to the Council. Shall we go right now?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps later. I don’t think we should bother him while he’s eating.”

“Actually, that might be a good opportunity,” the Rain Wild girl suggested. “It may be that while he is distracted with eating, we can look at his injuries.”

“But I’ve heard one should never bother an animal while it is eating!” Sedric protested.

“Ordinary animals, perhaps,” Thymara agreed. “But the silver is a dragon. And while he looks very stupid, perhaps there is a kernel of intelligence there. If I’m going to help care for him on the upriver journey, the sooner I get to know something of him, the better.”

“Let’s go then,” Alise agreed.

“Of course,” Sedric replied weakly.

Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug

To Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown

A copy of the contract between the Rain Wild Council of Cassarick and Captain Leftrin of the liveship
tarman,
including a binder concerning Alise Kincarron Finbok, Dragon Scholar of Bingtown, with the suggestion that a copy of this document be retained in the Council Records for Alise Kincarron Finbok. A detailed accounting of the expenses involved will follow.

Erek,

In my official capacity of Bird Keeper for Trehaug I am relieved to tell you that the exceptionally ugly bird that was vomiting on itself after eating its own droppings has apparently cured itself. There is no danger of the contagion spreading to either of our flocks. Sa’s mercy on us all!

Detozi

S
intara shouldered her way past Veras and seized the swamp-deer carcass the green had been eyeing. The smaller female hissed around the meat that she gripped and made a half-hearted swipe at her. Sintara ignored her. She would not waste time fighting while there was food to be had. The meat that was being dumped from the relay of barrows was the most she had seen in months. All the dragons had converged on it, forming a half circle of large, hungry creatures. She didn’t intend to stop eating until every last bit of it was gone. Then she would nap in the sun and digest. Let the humans flutter and squawk that it was time to leave; she’d leave when she was ready and not before.

She was surrounded by the sounds of feeding dragons. Bones crunched, meat tore, and dragons grunted as they raced to consume the most food. The larger dragons had pushed into the central area and claimed the largest pieces. The smaller dragons, shouldered to one side, had to be content with birds, fish, and even rabbits.

It was when she tossed her head back to gulp down the front quarter of the swamp deer that she noticed the cluster of humans around one of the other dragons. The dragon, a malformed silver, was trying to eat. He was ignoring the humans who had seized his tail and drawn it out to its unimpressive length. Apparently he was so hungry that nothing could distract him from his meal. Sintara would have dismissed the sight for a very similar reason if she had not noticed that two of the humans fussing over him belonged to her.

She swallowed and then gave a low rumble of displeasure. She considered interfering, but decided to continue feeding while she thought about it.

To her surprise, she had begun to enjoy the humans’ attention. It was flattering to have attendants, even if they were merely humans. They were so ignorant. They did not know how to praise her properly and had not brought her any gifts, but the younger one was acquiring some grooming skills. Last night Sintara had slept deeply, not waking even once to claw bloodsucking parasites from her nostrils and ears. The girl had brought her a fish, too, a large fish and fresh. And the Bingtown woman was at least attempting to address her with proper respect and flattery. Dragons, she reflected, were not so foolish as to be swayed by flattery, but it was pleasant to listen to compliments and endearments, and they did indicate that the human was adopting the proper deference.

It had pleased her, too, to be the only dragon with two attendants hovering around her. Now it seemed that both of them had defected to the mindless silver dragon, a prospect that was very distasteful to her. It had been pleasant to feel the vibrations of jealousy between the two women as they vied for her attention. Thymara had taken great pleasure in bringing her that fish, a pleasure that was rooted not only in serving the dragon but in serving her better than Alise could. Sintara had been looking forward to nudging them into sharper competition. She noted their current cooperation with displeasure and felt insulted that they now seemed as solicitous of the silver dragon as they had been of her. Alise’s useless male companion had joined them as well.

Kalo had taken advantage of her distraction to sink his teeth into a goat carcass that had been closer to her than to him. Sintara hissed her displeasure and seized the other end of it. It was no great prize. It was nearly rotten and tore in half before she had even tugged at it. Kalo swallowed the piece he had stolen and observed, “You should teach your tender more respect or you’ll lose her.”

It was humiliating that he had noticed the girl’s defection. Sintara had been on the point of going after her and the other woman. Now her pride prevented her from doing that. “I don’t need a keeper,” she informed him.

“Of course not. None of us do. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t allow anyone to take mine from me. He’s very satisfactory. You have noticed, of course, that the leader of the humans has chosen me to tend. He says it is because they have recognized me as the leader of the dragons.”

“Have they? How nice for you. What a pity that none of the dragons has!” Quicker than a lizard’s blink, she shot her head out, seized a young riverpig carcass that had been right in front of him and dragged it over to her spot. He bristled at her, the half-formed spines of his mane trying to rise. “Pitiful,” she commented quietly, as if she hadn’t intended him to hear it. She clamped her jaws on the pig, crushed it to a pulp, and swallowed it whole. When it was down, she added, “One of the females who tends me is quite knowledgeable about both dragons and Elderlings, and highly respected in her city. She chose to come with us out of admiration for me. And she knows that when the dragons of the past did acknowledge one as a leader, it was always a queen. Like me.”

“A queen like you? So, even then, there were dragons with no wings?”

“I have teeth.” She opened her jaws wide, reminding him.

Across the circle from them, Mercor slowly lifted his head. Since he had been cleaned, his gold scaling flashed in the sunlight. On the sides of his neck, a subtle mottling marked where he might have carried false-eyes in his serpent days. He was not as large as either of them, yet when he lifted his head, he radiated command. “No fighting,” he said calmly, as if he had the right to regulate them. “Not today. Not when we are so close to leaving this place and beginning our journey back to what we were. To what we are meant to be.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded of him. Secretly, she was glad of the distraction. She had no desire to fight, not when there was food to eat.

Mercor met her gaze. His eyes were solid, gleaming black, like obsidian set into his eye sockets. She could read nothing there. “I mean, today we begin our journey back to Kelsingra. Search your memory, and perhaps you will understand.”

“Kelsingra,” Kalo retorted skeptically. Sintara suspected that he, too, was relieved that Mercor had spoken and diverted them from a fight. But he could not admit that, and so he turned his disdain on the golden male.

“Kelsingra,” Mercor agreed and bent his head and snuffed the ground, searching for any remaining scraps of food. The humans had brought more than they usually did, perhaps as a farewell gift or perhaps to be rid of any surplus they’d been holding in reserve. Even so, the dragons had devoured it quickly, and Sintara knew that she was not the only one who remained hungry. She wished she could remember what it felt like to be full; in this life, she’d never known the sensation.

“Kelsingra,” Veras suddenly echoed Mercor, and around the circle, other dragons lifted their heads.

“Kelsingra!” Fente suddenly trumpeted and actually leaped, her front two legs leaving the ground. Her wings opened and flapped spasmodically and uselessly. She snapped them back to her body as if shamed.

“Kelsingra!” Both orange dragons chorused a response, as if the word brought them joy.

Mercor lifted his head, looked around at all of them, and then said ponderously, “It is time to leave this place. For too long we have been kept here, corralled as humans corral meat animals. We have slept in the place they have left for us, eaten what they fed us, and accepted that we were doomed to these shadow lives. Dragons do not live like this, and I for one will not die like this. If die I must, I will die as a dragon. Let us go.” Then he turned and headed toward the river shallows. For a time, all the dragons just watched him go. Then, without warning, some of the dragons began to follow him.

Sintara found herself trailing after them.

THE GASH IN the silver dragon’s tail looked as if it had been made by another dragon’s claw. It had never been a clean cut; it looked more like a tear. Thymara wondered if it had been intentional or merely an accident during the daily scramble for food. She also wondered how long ago it had happened. The injury was close to where his tail joined his body and was about as long as her forearm. A raised ridge of flesh along either side of the gaping tear indicated it had tried to close and heal, but had broken open again. It looked bad and smelled worse. Flies, some large and buzzing, others tiny and myriad, swarmed and settled on it.

Alise and Sedric, both her elders, were standing there like timid children, waiting for her to do something about it. The silver seemed to be paying no attention to them; it was at the far end of the crescent of dumped meat and feeding dragons, snatching at what it could reach and then retreating a half step from the others to eat it. She wished she had something larger to feed him, something that would keep him standing still and his mouth occupied. She watched him pick up at large bird, toss it up, catch it, and gulp it down. She had to act soon; when the food was gone, there would be nothing to distract him.

Sedric had fetched his kit of bandages and salves. It lay on the ground, open and ready. Thymara had brought other, more prosaic supplies: a bucket of clean water and a rag. She felt like a messenger who’d forgotten the words he’d been paid to say as they all waited for one of them to begin. She turned away from them and tried to think what she would do if she were here alone, as she had expected to be.

Well, no, she admitted to herself. She’d expected Tats to be here with her, or at least Sylve or Rapskal. She now felt a fool for volunteering to take on the hapless silver dragon. Skymaw was more than enough to deal with. She couldn’t possibly care for this dullwitted creature as well. She pushed that thought away and angrily crushed her self-doubt before the two Bingtowners. She set one hand lightly on the silver dragon’s dirty hide, well away from the wound on his tail. “Hello?” she said quietly.

He twitched slightly at her touch, but made no reply. She refused to let herself glance at her companions. She didn’t need their approval or guidance. She made her hand more firm on his skin. He didn’t pull away. “Listen, dragon, I’m here to help take care of you. Soon we’ll all be going up the river to look for a better place for you to live. But before we start traveling, I want to look at the injury on your tail. It looks infected. I’d like to clean it and bandage it. It may be a bit painful, but I think it has to be done. Otherwise, the river water will eat at it. Will you let me do that?”

The dragon turned his head to look at her. Half of a dead animal hung from his jaws. She couldn’t determine what it had been, but it smelled dreadful and she didn’t think he should eat it. But before she could frame that warning, he tipped his head up, opened his jaws, and swallowed it. She felt her gorge rise. Lots of animals ate carrion, she sternly reminded herself. She couldn’t let herself be upset by it.

The dragon looked at her again. His eyes were blue, a mingling of sky and periwinkle that swirled slowly as he stared at her. He made a questioning rumble at her, but she received no sense of words. She tried to find some spark of intelligence in his gaze, something more than bovine acceptance of her presence. “Silver dragon, will you let me help you with your injury?” she asked him again.

He lowered his head and rubbed his muzzle against his front leg to clear a strand of intestine that dangled from the side of his mouth. He pawed at his nose, snorting, and with a sinking heart she noticed that his nostrils and ears were infested with tightly clinging parasites. Those would have to go, too. But first, the tail, she reminded herself sternly. He opened his mouth, revealing a long jaw full of glistening pointed teeth. He seemed so placid, even unaware, but if she hurt him and it angered him, those teeth could end her life.

“I’m going to start now,” she told the dragon and her companions. She forced herself to turn to the Bingtowners and add, “Be ready. He’s not really responding to anything I say. I don’t feel like he’s any more intelligent than an ordinary animal. So when I try to look at his tail, there’s no telling what he’ll do. He may try to attack me. Or all of us.”

Sedric looked properly daunted, but Alise actually bared her teeth in determination. “We must do something for him,” she said.

Thymara dipped the rag into the water and wrung it out over the gash. Water trickled from the rag into the gash and ran away in a dirty rivulet down the dragon’s tail. It carried off a few maggots and disturbed a cloud of insects, large and small, that rose, buzzed, and tried to resettle immediately. It did little more than wash away surface dirt, but at least the dragon had not turned and snapped at her. She mustered her courage and gently pressed the rag to the injury. The dragon rippled his flesh around the area but did not growl. She wiped gently around it, taking off a layer of filth and insects and baring a raw stripe down the center. She plunged the rag into the bucket, rinsed and wrung it out, and applied it more firmly. Crusty scab came away and there was a sudden trickle of stinking liquid from the wound.

The dragon gave a sudden snort and whipped his head around to see what they were doing to him. When he darted his head toward Thymara, she thought she was going to die. She couldn’t find breath to shriek.

Instead the dragon nosed at the oozing injury. He pressed his nose flat to the swelling, forcing the pus from it. For a moment he worked at it, starting at the top of the gash and pushing his snout along it. The smell was terrible. Flies buzzed excitedly. She closed her nostrils as much as she could and lifted her hand, pressing the back of her wrist against her nose. “At least he’s trying to help us clean it,” she said through clenched teeth.

Abruptly, the dragon lost interest and turned back to his feeding. Thymara seized the opportunity to wet the rag again and wipe the pus away from the injury. Three times she rinsed out the rag and cleansed it, until she feared the water in the bucket was as foul as the stuff she was trying to wipe away.

“Here. Use this.”

She turned to find a grim-faced Sedric offering her a thinbladed knife. She stared at it; she’d been expecting him to hold out salve or bandaging. “For what?” she demanded.

“You need to cut away the proud flesh. Then we need to bind it closed. Perhaps even stitch it closed. Otherwise, it’s not going to heal well.”

“Proud flesh?”

“That swollen, tough-looking stuff at the edges of the wound. You need to cut it away so that you can bandage it, fresh cut to fresh cut. So the flesh can heal together.”