She could not read the emotion behind his words. It could have been deep sorrow or utter defiance of their judgment. She tried to find words that would answer to either. “That scarcely seems fair. You cannot help what you are, any more than the young dragons can.”
“No. That is true. I could not prevent what was done to me, nor can I change what people made of me. But I know what I am and have decided to continue being what I am. That is not the decision a dragon would make. And thus do I know for myself that I am not a dragon.”
“Then what are you?” she asked unwillingly. She didn’t like the direction the conversation was going in. His words seemed almost an accusation. Did she feel tension emanating from the figurehead or was she imagining it?
“I am a liveship,” he replied, and although he spoke without rancor, there was a depth of feeling to his voice that seemed to thrum though the very planking under her feet. A finality filled those words, as if he spoke of an unending, never-changing fate. He did, she realized abruptly.
“How you must hate us for what we did to you.” Behind her, she heard Sedric give a small gasp of dismay. She ignored him.
“Hate you?” Paragon slowly digested her words before he spoke again. He did not turn to look at her, but kept his eyes focused on the river ahead of him as the ship moved steadily against the current. “Why would I waste my time with hate? What was done to me was unforgivable, of course. Completely unforgivable. Those who did it are no longer alive to be punished or to apologize. Even if they were and did, it would not undo what they did. The torments I endured cannot be undone. The stolen future cannot be given back to me. The companionship of my own kind, the chance to hunt and kill, to fight and mate, to live a life in which I am neither servant or master—all those things are forever lost to me.”
He did glance back at her now; the blue of his eyes had paled to an icy gray. “Can you think of anything that anyone could do to make up for it? Any sacrifice that could be offered that would be adequate reparation?”
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?”
