Rash as always, Rapskal spoke into the pause. “Does Heeby have a dragon name?”
To Thymara’s surprise, the great gold dragon took the boy’s query seriously. “Heeby is now Heeby. She had made the name hers as you gave it to her. It remains to see if she will grow into it, or find herself limited by it.”
Thymara desperately wanted to ask about the injured silver dragon, but did not have the courage. Sometimes, she reflected, it might be easier to be Rapskal, without the sense to be frightened of anything.
Mercor had lowered his nose to the copper dragon. He gave her a nudge, then a stronger push. The copper didn’t move. Mercor lifted his head and regarded the fallen dragon with his bright black eyes. “We will have to remain here until she either rises or dies,” he announced. He looked around himself gravely and let his gaze stop on Greft. “Leave her alone here. I will be back shortly.” Then, “Come, Sylve,” he beckoned her and strode off toward the water. His heavy clawed feet left deep tracks. Soon water would seep up to fill them.
MORNING HAD COME and grown strong. Alise could tell by the squares of sunlight that fell in her small chamber from the tiny windows set high in the wall. She tried again to muster her courage to leave her room, and once again sat down at her little desk instead. She had to go outside soon. She was hungry and thirsty and she needed to empty her chamber pot. Instead, she folded her arms on the desk in front of her and then rested her forehead on them. She stared into the small darkness her arms enclosed. “What am I going to do?” she asked herself.
No easy answer came to her. Outside, the deckhands would soon be casting loose and pushing the barge off the muddy bank. Doubtless by now the dragons had set out and their keepers in their flotilla of small boats would be following. Another day of travel up the river awaited her. Ahead of her were vistas of open river, tall trees, and the slice of sky overhead that sometimes seemed like a different sort of river. Every day was a new adventure for her. There would be new flowers perfumed with unfamiliar fragrances, strange animals that came down to the river’s edge or rose from its depths to leap glittering into the sunlight. Never had she imagined that the Rain Wilds would be so rich with life. When she had heard of the river and how it could sometimes run white with acid, she had expected the lands to either side of it to be deserted wastelands. To the contrary, she found herself encountering all sorts of trees, plants, and animals that she had never imagined existed. The fish and creatures in the water that had adapted to its varying acidity astounded her. Of the birds alone, there were hundreds. And by sight or song, Leftrin seemed to know them all . . .
And again, her errant thoughts had circled back to him, to the very man who was at the root of all her problems.
No. That wasn’t fair. She couldn’t blame him. It was her own fault she was so taken with him. Oh, she knew he was infatuated with her; he was an honest soul. He hid nothing from her. His affection for her and interest in her were conveyed in every glance, in every word he spoke to her. An accidental touch of his hand against hers was like a leap of lightning from earth to sky. Feelings, physical sensations she had thought long vanished from her life, were awakening violently and rolling through her like groundshaking thunder.
Last night, when he had been showing her how to refasten the bowline, she had feigned incompetence at the simple knot. It was a schoolgirl’s trick, but the poor, honest man had been completely deceived. He’d stood behind her, with her in the circle of his arms and taken her hands in his to guide them through the easy motions. Heat had flushed through her, and her knees had actually trembled at his closeness. A wave of dizziness had washed through her; she had wanted to collapse to the deck and pull him down on top of her. She’d gone still in his loose embrace, praying to every god she’d ever heard of that he would know what she so hotly desired and act on it. This, this was what she was supposed to feel about the man she was joined to, and had never felt at all!
“Do you understand it now?” he’d asked her huskily. His hands on hers pulled the knot firm.
“I do,” she’d replied. “I understand it completely now.” She hadn’t been speaking of knots at all. She’d dared herself to take half a step backward and press her body to his. She dared herself to turn in the circle of his arms and look up into his whiskery beloved face. Cowardice paralyzed her. She could not even form words. For a time that was infinitely brief and forever, he stood there, enclosing her in a warm, safe place. All around her, the night sounds of the Rain Wilds made a soft music of water and bird and insect calls. She could smell him, a male musky smell, “sweaty” as Sedric would have mocked it, but incredibly masculine and attractive to her. Enclosed by his embrace, she felt a part of his world. The deck under her feet, the railing of the ship, the night sky above her, and the man at her back connected her to something big and wonderful, something that was untamed and yet home to her.
