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‘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 coloured 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.’
‘Well, there is Malta and Reyn. And Selden.’
‘But none of them are here,’ Alise pointed out. She started to step into the water and halted. ‘Do you see that speckly 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 leapt 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 lash-like 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’ 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 tendrilled through the murky water and the fish only re doubled 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!
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 river bank. 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 her. 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 round at the circle of gathered keepers and dragons. Alise was looking at her, her blue 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.
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-coloured 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 humour 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 her his arm. Alise took it. ‘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 at 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—’
‘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.
‘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 further. 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, 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, towards 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, enamoured pet? That she would endeavour 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 fulfil 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 one another 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 moulding 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.
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 mud bank 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.
