Dragon Haven (22 page)

“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.

“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.”

A
LISE 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.

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.

“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.”