Dragon Keeper

by Robin Hobb

  Her heart was beating so hard that there was a ringing in her ears. Was that why he had rolled so many times and taken so many human lives? Did he think that enough humans had died in expiation for that sin against him, or would he demand more?

  She hadn’t answered his questions. His voice was a bit more penetrating as he nudged her with, “Well? What sacrifice would be adequate?”

  “None that I can think of,” she replied softly. She tightened her grip on the railing, wondering if he would immediately turn turtle and drown them all.

  “Neither can I,” he replied. “No vengeance could resolve it. No sacrifice would make reparations for it.” He returned his gaze to the river. “And so I have decided to move beyond it. To be what I am now, in this incarnation, as no other is available to me. To have what life I may for as long as the wood of this body lasts me.”

  She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Then you have forgiven us?”

  Paragon gave a quiet snort. “Wrong on two points. I haven’t forgiven anything. And I don’t believe in the ‘us’ you think I might take vengeance on. You didn’t do this to me. But even if you had, killing you would not undo it.”

  Behind her, Sedric suddenly spoke. “This is the not the attitude I would have expected from a dragon.”

  Paragon gave a snort, half contempt, half amusement. “I told you. I am not a dragon. And neither are those creatures that you intend to visit and study. That’s why I called you forward. To tell you that. To tell you that there’s no point to your journey. Studying those pathetic wretches will not teach you anything about dragons. No more than studying me would.”

  “How can they not be dragons?”

  “In a world where dragons lived, they would not have survived.”

  “Other dragons would have killed them?”

  “Other dragons would have ignored them. They would have died and been eaten. Their memories and knowledge would have been preserved by those who fed upon them.”

  “It seems cruel.”

  “Would it have been crueler than enabling them to exist as they are now?”

  She took a breath and then tried to speak boldly. “You have chosen to continue as you are. Should not they be given that choice?”

  The muscles in his broad back tightened, and she felt a gout of fear. But when he turned back to her, there was a spark of respect in his blue eyes that had not been there before. He gave her a slow nod. “A point. But I still ask you to keep in mind, when you study those things, that they cannot teach you what dragons were. I am told that half of them hatched without the memories of their ancestors. How can they be dragons when they emerge not knowing what a dragon is?”

  His comment carried her thoughts on a new current. “But you do. Because despite the shape you now inhabit, your dragon memories would be intact.” She gripped the ship’s rail tightly as a wild hope filled her. “Oh, Paragon, would you talk about them with me? It would be such an opportunity for me as a scholar of dragons, to hear firsthand what you recall! The very concept that dragons can recall their previous lives is so hard for humans to grasp. I should so dearly love to listen to whatever you wished to tell me, and to make a complete record of all you recall. Such conversations alone would make my journey worthwhile! Oh, please, say that you will!”

  A taut quiet followed her words. “Alise,” Sedric said warningly, “I think you should come away from the railing.”

  But she clung there, even though she, too, could feel the wave of uneasiness that swept though the ship. The smoothness went out of his sailing; the deck under her feet shifted subtly. Surely it was her imagination that the wind flowed more chill than it had? Paragon spoke into the roaring silence. “I choose not to remember,” he said. Alise felt as if his words broke a spell. Sound and life came suddenly back to the world. It included the sudden thud of feet on the deck behind her. A woman’s voice said, without preamble, “I fear you’re upsetting my ship. I’ll have to ask you to leave the foredeck.”

  “She’s not upsetting me, Althea,” Paragon interjected as Alise turned to see the captain’s wife advancing on her. Alise had met her when they embarked and had spoken with her several times, but still did not feel at ease with her. She was a small woman who wore her hair in a long black pigtail down her back. She dressed in sailor’s garb; it was well tailored and of quality fabric, but for all that, she was a woman in trousers and a jacket. Less feminine garb Alise could not imagine, and yet the very inappropriateness of it seemed to emphasize her female form. Her eyes were very dark, and right now they sparked with either anger or fear. Alise retreated a step and put her hand on Sedric’s arm. For his part, he turned his body so that he stood almost between them and said, “I’m sure the lady meant no harm. The ship asked us to come up and speak with him.”

  “That I did,” Paragon confirmed. He twisted to look over his shoulder at all of them. “No harm done, Althea, I assure you. We were speaking of dragons, and quite naturally, she asked me what I recalled of being one. I told her that I chose to recall nothing at all.”

  “Oh, Ship,” the woman said, and Alise felt as if she had disappeared. Althea Trell did not even glance at her as she moved forward to take Alise’s place at the bow. She leaned on the railing and stared far ahead up the river as if sharing the ship’s thoughts.

  “Par’gon!” A child’s voice piped suddenly behind them. Alise turned to watch a small boy of three or four clambering onto the raised foredeck. He was bare armed and bare legged and baked dark by the sun. He scampered forward, dropped to his hands and knees, and thrust his head out under the ship’s railing. Alise gasped, expecting him to pitch overboard at any moment. Instead he demanded the ship’s attention with a strident, “Par’gon? You awright?” His babyish voice was full of concern.

  The ship swung his head around to stare at the child. His mouth puckered oddly and then suddenly he smiled, an expression that transformed his face. “I’m fine.”

  “Catch me!” the boy commanded, and before his mother could even turn to him, he launched himself into the figurehead’s waiting hands. “Fly me!” the imp commanded the ship. “Fly me like a dragon!”

  And without a word, the ship obeyed him. He cupped the child in his two immense hands and lifted him high and forward. The boy leaned fearlessly against the ship’s laced fingers and spread his small arms wide as if they were wings. The figurehead gently wove his hands through the air, swaying the youngster from left to right. A squeal of glee drifted back to them. Abruptly the charge of tension in the air vanished. Alise wondered if Paragon even recalled they were there.

  “Let’s leave them, shall we?” Althea suggested quietly.

  “Is it safe for the child?” Sedric objected in horror.

  “It’s the safest place the boy can possibly be,” Althea replied with certainty. “And for the ship, it’s the best place, too. Please.” She indicated the ladder that led down to the deck. As they approached it, she added, “Do not take my words the wrong way. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to Paragon again.”

  “He invited me to come forward!” Alise objected, her cheeks flaming.

  “I’m sure he did,” Althea replied smoothly. “But all the same, I’d appreciate it if you declined any other invitations.” She paused as if she were finished speaking. Then, as Alise turned and tried to bustle her skirts out of the way to descend the ladder, she added in a quieter voice, “He’s a good ship. He has a great heart. But no one ever knows in advance what topics might upset him. Not even him.”

  “Do you truly believe that he has forgotten his dragon memories?” Alise dared to ask.

  Althea pressed her lips tightly for a moment. Then she said, “I choose to believe whatever my ship tells me about himself. If he tells me he has forgotten, then I don’t ask him to recall anything about it. Some memories are best left undisturbed. Sometimes, if you forget something, it’s because it’s better forgotten.”

  Alise nodded. She was turning to put a foot on the ladder wh
en a man spoke below her.

  “Paragon all right?” Captain Trell asked, looking up. Alise blushed. She had very nearly stepped off the deck and onto the ladder. Her skirts would have been right over his head.

  “He’s fine now,” Althea assured him. Then, as she noticed Alise’s dilemma, she smoothly suggested, “Brashen, would you offer Trader Finbok some assistance to descend?”

  “Of course,” he replied, and with his offered hand she was able to descend in a more ladylike manner. In a moment, Sedric had joined her on the deck. He put out his arm and she was glad to take it. The events of the last hour had left her flustered, and for the first time she had serious doubts about the advisability of her journey. It was not just that the ship had told her she could not think of the young dragons as dragons, and implied that they would have no ancestral memories. That was daunting enough, but she suddenly also felt that perhaps she had badly underestimated how intimidating it might be to deal with such creatures. Her conversation with Paragon had rearranged her concept of dragons. She had been, she realized, thinking of them as youngsters. They weren’t. Not any more than Tintaglia had been a youngster when she emerged from her case. They might be smaller or crippled, but dragons came out of their cases, usually, as fully formed adults.

  The captain had not moved away from her. Now, as his wife, Althea, joined him on the deck, they stood side by side, almost blocking her from moving away. The captain spoke courteously but firmly. “Perhaps in the future, it might be better if one of us accompanied you if you wished to speak with the ship. Sometimes those unfamiliar with liveships or with Paragon himself can find him unnerving. And sometimes he can be a bit . . . excitable.”

  “The lady had no intention of alarming your ship,” Sedric informed Captain Trell, a bit stiffly. He put his hand firmly over Alise’s, a protective gesture that she found oddly reassuring. “The ship invited her forward to speak with him. And he was the one who brought up the topic of dragons.”

  “Did he?” The captain exchanged a glance with his wife. She nodded slightly, and he shifted his feet. Alise felt that he granted them permission to move away. His tone was a bit more kindly as he admitted, “Well, I’m not surprised. We’ve had troubling news about the hatchlings almost every time we visit Trehaug. I think they weigh on his mind. We encourage Paragon not to dwell on things that he finds upsetting.”

  “I understand,” Alise replied faintly. She wished the conversation were at an end. She did not do well at confrontation with strangers, she abruptly decided. With her own husband, she had barely been able to take a stand and feel courageous about doing so. But out here in the real world and almost on her own, she felt she had not done well at facing her first challenge. Even as she felt grateful for Sedric’s support, her gratitude shamed her.

  “I think you might warn your passengers before they stumbled into such a circumstance,” Sedric said firmly. “Your ship is not the only one that might become alarmed. Neither of us sought conversation with him. On the contrary, he invited us forward.”

  “So you’ve said,” Captain Trell replied, and his voice warned of patience wearing thin. “You may recall you were told that we do not often take passengers, only cargo. Usually those who ride with us are family or friends. They’re well aware of Paragon’s quirks. I do recall that Trader Finbok was quite insistent that she had to book immediate passage.”

  Alise tightened her grip on Sedric’s arm. She wished only to go back to her tiny stateroom. Her vision of herself as an intrepid explorer braving new experiences and acquiring firsthand knowledge of dragons was fading. She felt sure that if Sedric had not been by her side, she would have fled. Or worse, burst into tears. At the thought of it, her eyes began to sting. No. Oh, no, please, not now.

  Perhaps the threat of breaking down in front of strangers gave her courage. She drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and with all her might pretended that she was as brave as she wished she were. “Hatchlings,” she said quietly. Then she firmed her voice and spoke with more force. She pushed a smile onto her face as well. “I regret that I upset your ship, sir. But I would be extremely interested if you could share any news you have of the ‘hatchlings’ as you call them. Paragon said that I should not think of them as dragons. I find that an extraordinary statement. Can you clarify what he meant by it? Have you yourself seen them? What did you think of them?” She stacked her questions one on top of the other as if building a wall to protect herself.

  “I haven’t,” the captain admitted.

  “I have,” his wife said quietly. She turned and walked slowly away from them all. As Alise stared after her curiously, she turned and silently beckoned for them to follow. She led them to the captain’s quarters, invited them inside, and closed the door.

  “Would you care to sit down?” she asked them.

  Alise nodded silently. The sudden hospitality was a bit confusing, but also welcome. The confined room was a setting more familiar to her than the open deck. She immediately felt more comfortable. The stateroom was not large but was still impressive. It was efficiently designed and simply furnished, but every item in the chamber was of excellent quality. Shining brass and richly gleaming wood welcomed them. A chart table dominated the room. A compass rose inlaid into the tabletop was formed from various shades of wood. Heavy damask draperies curtained off a bed in one corner of the wood-paneled room. Scattered about the room were small artifacts that were obviously of Elderling make. A small mobile of fish hung near a window. As the light touched it, the fish “swam” in the air, changing colors as they did so. A fat green pot with a gleaming copper spout sat in the middle of the table. Alise felt as if she had just stepped into the drawing room of a wealthy Bingtown family rather than a stateroom on a ship. She took her offered seat and waited as the others joined her at the table.

  Althea smoothed a few stray strands of hair back from her face. She glanced at her husband. Captain Trell had not joined them at the table, but leaned on the wall by a small window, watching the shore slip by. “Paragon helped escort the serpents up the Rain Wild River. He accompanied them as far as he could and had the highest of hopes for them. He was deeply and bitterly disappointed when they emerged as pitiful shadows of the dragons they should have been. Not one of them was near Tintaglia’s size. Since then they have grown, but they still are stunted.”

  Althea picked up the pot on the table, hefting it to check if it still held water. “Will you have a cup of tea?” she offered as she set it down again, as if they were indeed in a Bingtown drawing room. She stroked an insignia on the side of the kettle, an image that looked rather like a chicken with a crown. Almost immediately, the pot gave a small rumble and steam began to waft from its spout.

  “Priceless!” Sedric exclaimed. “I’d heard a few such Elderling kettles have been discovered, but none seemed to come to the Bingtown market. It must be worth a fortune.”

  “It was a wedding gift, from family,” Captain Trell said. “Quite a prize. It requires no fire to heat the water. And of course, on a ship, fire is always a concern.” He had visited a sideboard and now brought a tray laden with cups and a teapot to the table. Althea took over the hostess duties. It was odd to watch her shift from her mannish abilities on the deck to the delicate business of measuring tea into a pot and setting out cups all around. Alise abruptly felt that she glimpsed a possible life that she had never known existed. Why, she wondered, had she never even considered making her own way in the world? Why had marriage or spinsterhood seemed her only choices? She only realized she was staring at Althea when the woman returned her a slightly puzzled glance. Alise immediately redirected the conversation with a question.

  “But Paragon has never seen the new dragons?”

  Althea shot her an odd glance. “Of course not. The river is too shallow to permit him to venture that far. A great deal of effort went into making that part of the river passable for the serpents. It was not as successful as it could have been, and winter storms and floods in the years since the
n have mostly destroyed those works. The banks of the river, as you have seen, are marshy and difficult to walk on. The forest is dense and unfriendly to creatures of that size. So the dragons have never moved from their hatching place.”

  “But you went to see them?”

  “Yes. At Paragon’s request, I went. And also because I wished to visit my niece, Malta.”

  “Malta Khuprus? The Elderling queen?”

  Althea smiled more broadly. “So some name her, though she is not queen of anything. It was a fancy of the Jamaillian Satrap to title Reyn and her as the King and Queen of the Elderlings. In reality, they are both of Trader stock, just as you and I are, and not royalty at all.”

  “But they are Elderlings!”

  Althea started to shake her head, and then shrugged instead. “So Tintaglia the dragon called them. And they have both physically changed over the years to resemble, more and more, the images of Elderlings that we’ve seen unearthed from the ancient Rain Wild cities. But Malta was born just as human as I am, and Reyn, though marked as many of the Rain Wild Traders are, was not extraordinarily different. That’s no longer the case, of course. Our family has watched both of them, and Selden Vestrit, my nephew, change substantially since they encountered Tintaglia. It’s my thought that exposure to the dragon was what started their changes. All three have grown taller. Malta is remarkably tall for a woman of my family now. And more beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with human beauty. When she goes uncloaked and unveiled, she reminds me of a jeweled statue come to life. Tintaglia has told them that they may enjoy much longer life spans than ordinary humans. But for all of that, Malta is still Malta.” Althea sounded as if she almost regretted that fact. Quietly she added, “And I think she and Reyn would trade away all their Elderling glory for one healthy baby.”

  “But the dragons?” Sedric interrupted to demand. “Are they really so deformed and mentally deficient? Is it possible that we have come all this way on a useless quest?”