Dragon Haven

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, puts 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 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 that’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.’

‘I’d never abandon 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 favour. He felt Tarman quest towards him. He stepped quickly to the railing and put his hands 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 any more, Leftrin suddenly realized. Well, he supposed he wasn’t a young fellow himself any more. 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 that’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 duffle bag and sewed 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 hand-picked 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 they 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, he 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 …

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’ face when Alice 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’ plotting. He could just imagine the Bingtown man’s reaction to Jess’ 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 sceptical 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.

‘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 on this journey, Alise. The most obvious danger, actually, and one we’ve always had to live with. The first “settlers” in the Rain Wild 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’ 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 if 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 Wild, 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 that 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.’

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 green, 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 mad man. 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. Every one 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 their 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 upwards 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 Bird 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. She 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 colours 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 colours. Sintara’s deep blue wings were laced with silver, and the ‘fringes’ on her neck were developing in a different shade of blue.

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.’