Rain Wild Chronicles 02 - Dragon Haven

by Robin Hobb

  “Of course. It’s a part of her. I don’t know if a dragon can completely control the effect she has on humans. It’s her nature. Just as a human dominates a pet dog.”

  “I’m not her pet,” Thymara retorted. Fear sharpened her words. Did Sintara dominate her more than she realized?

  “No. You’re not, and neither am I. Though I suspect she considers me more her pet than anything else. I think she respects you, because you can hunt. But she has told me, more than once, that I fail to assert myself as a female. I’m not sure why, but I think I disappoint her.”

  “She pushed me to go hunting his morning. I told her I preferred to fish.”

  “She told me to follow you when you hunted. I saw you here on the riverbank.”

  Thymara was quiet. She lifted her fish spear again and walked slowly along the river’s edge, thinking. Was it betrayal? Then she spoke. “I know what she wanted you to see. The same thing I saw. I think she wanted you to know that Jerd and Greft have been mating.”

  She waited for a response. When none came, she looked back at Alise. The Bingtown woman’s cheeks were pink again, but she tried to speak calmly. “Well. I suppose that, living like this, with no privacy and little supervision, it is easy for a young girl to give in to a young man’s urging. They would not be the first to sample the dinner before the table is set. Do you know if they intend to marry?”

  Thymara stared at her. She put her words together carefully. “Alise, people like me, like them, people who are already so heavily touched by the Rain Wilds, we are not allowed to marry. Or to mate. They are breaking one of the oldest rules of the Rain Wilds.”

  “It’s a law, then?” Alise looked puzzled.

  “I…I don’t know if it’s a law. It’s a custom. It’s something everyone knows and does. If a baby is born and it’s already changed so much from pure human, then its parents don’t raise it. They ‘give it to the night’ they expose it and try again. Only for some of us, like me, well, my father took me back. He brought me home and kept me.”

  “There’s a fish there, a really big one. He’s in the shadow of that driftwood log. See him? He looks like he’s part of the shadow.”

  Alise sounded excited. Thymara was jolted at the change of subject. On an impulse, she handed her spear to Alise. “You get him. You saw him first. Remember, don’t try to jab the fish. Stab it in like you want to stick it into the ground beyond the fish. Push hard.”

  “You should do it,” Alise said as she took the spear. “I’ll miss. He’ll get away. And he’s a very big fish.”

  “Then he’s a good big target for your first try. Go on. Try it.” Thymara stepped slowly back and away from the river.

  Alise’s pale eyes widened. Her glance went from Thymara to the fish and back again. Then she took two deep shuddering breaths and then suddenly sprang at the fish, spear in hand. She landed with a splash and a shout in ankle-deep water as she stabbed the spear down with far more force than she needed to use. Thymara stared openmouthed as the Bingtown woman used both hands to drive the spear in even deeper. Surely the fish was long gone. But no, Alise stood in the water, holding the spear tightly as a long, thick fish thrashed out its death throes.

  When it finally stilled, she turned to Thymara and cried breathlessly, “I did it! I did it! I speared a fish! I killed it!”

  “Yes, you did. And you should get out of the water before you ruin your boots.”

  “I don’t care about them. I got a fish. Can I try again? Can I kill another?”

  “I suppose you can. Alise, let’s get the first one ashore, shall we?”

  “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 colored 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 is here,”
Alise pointed out. She started to step into the water and halted. “Do you see that speckled 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 leaped 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 lashlike 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’s 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 tendriled through the murky water and the fish only redoubled 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 riverbank. 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 Thymara. 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 around at the circle of gathered keepers and dragons. Alise was looking at her, her gray 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.