Thymara turned to stare at her. “Are you all right?”

For a moment, the sight of her eyes glowing pale blue in the night unsettled Alise. But then she nodded grimly. “I’m as all right as I can be. I’ve counted eight dragons so far; or at least I think I have. I may have counted some twice.”

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“I haven’t seen any of the other keepers. Or the Tarman. Have you?”

“No.” Alise bit the word off short. She wouldn’t, couldn’t worry now. The Tarman was a big boat; it had to be all right. Leftrin would come to find her and save her. He had to. He was her only hope now. For a moment she marveled that she could put so much faith in a mere man. Then she shook the thought from her mind. He was all she had that she could count on. She would not doubt him now.

All around them, the water seethed and roared. The sound pressed on her ears. The fury of the first wave had passed, but the water that followed it swelled the river and powered the current. Alise gripped with her knees as if she were riding a horse and held tight to Thymara’s belt and prayed. All her muscles ached from being clenched so long. Sweet Sa, how long could sheer terror last? Beneath her, the dragon struggled, and seemed to swim less powerfully than she had. She wondered how much time had passed. The dragon must be getting exhausted. If Sintara gave up, then all of them would die. She knew she could not survive in the deluge without her. She leaned closer to the dragon’s head.

“It’s not far now, my beauty, my queen. See, there is the line of trees. You can make it. Don’t try to swim straight to it. Let the current carry you but ease toward the shore, my gem, my priceless beauty.”

She felt something from the dragon, some warming of strength, as if her mere human words encouraged her in a way that defied the physical challenges.

Thymara sensed it, too. “Great queen, you have to survive. The memories of all your ancestors depend on you to carry them forward through time. Swim! Or all they have been will be forever lost, and all the world will be less for that. You must survive. You must!”

The shore came closer so slowly. Despite their encouragement, Sintara’s strength was flagging. Then the sound of trumpeting reached them. Along the shore, wedged against the trees, were dragons. They called to her, and Alise felt a thrill shoot through her when she heard thin human voices raised as well.

“It’s Sintara! It’s Thymara’s blue queen! Swim, queen, swim! Don’t give up!”

“Sweet Sa, there is someone on her back! Who is it? Who did she save?”

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“Swim, dragon! Swim! You’ll make it!”

Thymara suddenly lifted her voice. “Sylve? Is that you? Alise and I are here, Sintara saved us!”

Sylve’s high voice reached them. “Don’t try to climb up on the mat. You’ll get tangled up. Push through it until you get to the trees at the edge. Then we’ll get some big logs under you so you can rest, Sintara. Don’t get tangled up! It’s like a net; it will trap you and drag you down.”

IN A MATTER of minutes, they were grateful for that advice. All manner of debris had fetched up against the shore. At the river’s side, it was loose and floating, but the closer Sintara got to the trees, the more packed and tangled it became. Thymara clung to her dragon and felt that this final part of her struggle lasted at least a day. The safety of the trees loomed overhead, and never had she longed more to feel bark under her claws and hold fast to one of the immense giants and know she was safe. A dimness that was not quite light but indicated that morning was beginning somewhere had begun to permeate the sky and reach down toward the chaos on the water. Had they battled the water all night? Thymara could see the hulking shapes of dragons under the trees now. They were braced against the flow of the water, front paws wrapped around trees as they floated exhaustedly. At intervals, the dragons trumpeted; she wondered who they were calling. There were keepers there, too, perched in the lower branches of the trees. She could not tell how many or who, but her heart lifted with hope that all would be well. Only a few hours ago, she thought that she and Alise and Sintara might be the only survivors. Now she wondered if perhaps they had all escaped unscathed.

Sintara chested her way through the floating mat of debris. It was hard for the dragon to accept the advice not to try and clamber on top of it. Thymara could feel her weariness, her need just to stop struggling and rest. Her heart leaped with joy when she saw first Sylve and then Tats venturing out across the packed branches and logs toward them. “Be careful!” she shouted at them. “If you fall and go under, we’ll never find you under this mat.”

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