"Dragon Haven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hobb Robin)

CHAPTER FIVE White Flood

Leftrin’s hands locked around Jess’ throat. The hunter was raining body blows on the captain’s midsection. Leftrin thought he had cracked ribs from the beating and he tasted blood from his smashed lips, but he kept his grip. It was a matter of time. If he could throttle him long enough, the punishing punches would stop. Already they were losing strength and when both Jess’ hands rose to clutch at Leftrin’s wrist, he knew it was over except for that final stretch of endurance. The hunter clawed at his wrists, but Leftrin’s hands were toughened, not just by scales but by too-frequent immersions in river water. His scar tissue resisted Jess’ nails. He could not see Jess’ face, but he knew his eyes would be bulging by now. He squeezed harder, imagining the man’s tongue starting to protrude from his mouth.

Around the combatants, the wind swirled and the black rain battered down. The silver dragon had either abandoned the carcass or been unaffected by the drugs. He galloped in a clumsy circle around them, trumpeting in distress. Leftrin could not worry that the dragon’s noise might bring the keepers down on them. If they came, he could show them Jess’ knives, say he’d only been protecting the dragon. Grip, he told his weary hands and shaking arms. Grip! The pain was sickening. There was a roaring in his ears and he feared he would pass out before he could finish the job. He squeezed, and still the hunter struggled, flinging his head forward in a futile effort to butt Leftrin in the face.

A wall of water, stone and timber suddenly appeared behind Jess. Leftrin’s mind froze that agonizing moment into a decade. He saw, clearly, the debris that showed in the white water. He knew that the wave would be acid and heavy with silt. This was a flood that had come a long, long way, collecting driftwood and tearing trees free from the banks as it came. He caught one glimpse of a huge elk carcass coming towards them, tumbling like a toy tossed in the air.

‘Tarman!’ he shouted, and let Jess’ throat go. He spun to run for his ship, to save his beloved boat if he could.

But in that instant, time resumed. The water smashed him down as it devoured the sandbar. He saw nothing, knew nothing except the struggle of an animal that is suddenly thrust into a foreign element. There was no air, no light, no up, no down. Cold and force drove his breath from his body. Goodbye, he thought stupidly. Goodbye, Alise. At least I didn’t have to see you go back to another man. A drowning death might be better than that other, slower torment.

Something bumped him. His hands and arms locked onto it and he rose with it, bursting into blackness. He gasped in both air and the water that streamed from his hair and skin, choked, went under again with the tumbling log, and then popped up again. The crest of the wave had passed them, but the river still flowed strong and possibly twice as deep as it had been. The speed of the current swept him down the river in a dangerous stew of trees, struggling animals and carcasses, and driftwood. He did not try to get on top of the log he clutched. Instead he resigned himself to regular duckings and held tight to it, hoping the current would hold him near the centre of the river. He could hear the crashes and snapping as debris struck trees on the river’s banks and tore them loose or smashed them down. He had one glimpse of a dragon, swimming frantically. Then his log turned, ducking him again, and when he came up, the dragon was gone.

As the river settled, he moved down the trunk towards the root end. There the wood was thicker and the roots offered him more grips. He ventured to climb a bit higher out of the water and scanned the surface of the water. As the water calmed, the debris was spreading out, borne along on the still swollen river. The starlight and moonlight shone on the white water. He saw floating carcasses as black shapes. In the distance, he saw a large silhouette of a paddling dragon. He shouted, but doubted that his voice reached it. The sounds of the rushing water, of trees groaning and giving way, of flotsam crashing together drowned his human voice.

Then he saw something that lifted his heart. Light sparkled, dimmed and then grew steady to become a perfect circle of yellow lamplight. It could only be Tarman; someone had just rekindled a lamp on board him. The light gave sudden shape and meaning to what had been blackness against blackness. Tarman was distant, downcurrent of him, but he knew his ship’s low black profile. He drew his breath deep into his abused lungs, wincing at his aching ribs. He didn’t waste his breath cursing Jess; with any sort of luck, the man was a corpse by now. Instead, he pursed his lips and pushed out a long, steady whistle. Another breath. Again, he whistled, the pitch a notch higher than before. Another breath.

Even before he pushed the sound out, he knew Tarman had heard him. The circle of light shifted as the ship wheeled towards him. The light vanished. For a time, he just clung to his log, breathing steadily and waiting. Then the lantern on Tarman’s bow was kindled. He drew breath, whistled again, and watched the light almost immediately grow larger. Paddling with all his might, Tarman was coming for him. The barge’s thick sturdy legs and webbed feet would propel him against the current. Swarge would man the tiller and the crew would break out the sweeps, but Tarman would not wait for that pantomime of help. The liveship was coming for his captain. He whistled again, and low to the water, he saw the pale blue gleam of two large eyes. Rescue was coming. All he had to do now was wait for his ship to save him.

Perhaps Sintara attempted to set her down beside Alise. But the effort failed, and Thymara fell on top of the Bingtown woman. Alise’s arms closed around her in an engulfing embrace that both kept her from sliding back into the water and sent a spike of agony down her back as her clutching hands pressed against Thymara’s injury.

Thymara tried not to struggle against the grip that was saving her. An instant later, they were both starting to slide down the dragon’s sleekly-scaled front shoulder. ‘Hold on!’ Alise screamed by her ear, and Thymara reached out for anything that might offer purchase. Her scrabbling claws caught at the edges of Sintara’s scales; she was sure the dragon would have protested angrily if she hadn’t been struggling for her own life.

Alise’s grip on Thymara had gone from saving the girl from falling to clutching at her to stay on the dragon. Thymara risked letting go with one hand and lunged for a better grip. She hooked her hand over the joint where Sintara’s wings were anchored to her back. ‘Hold on to me!’ she gasped to Alise, and used all her strength to drag them back on top of the dragon.

Once they were on top, she managed to loosen Alise’s grip on her enough that she could slide forward. She seated herself just in front of Sintara’s wings, pushing her heels back and gripping the dragon with her knees. It was not at all a secure perch, but it was better than where she had been. Behind her, she felt Alise settling into place. The Bingtown woman took a tight grip on Thymara’s belt, and suddenly there was a moment in which to take stock of her situation.

‘What happened?’ she shouted back to Alise.

‘I don’t know!’ Seated as close as she was, her words still barely reached Thymara’s ear. The river roared around them. ‘A huge wave came down the river. Captain Leftrin told me that sometimes, after a quake, the river ran white for a time. But he never mentioned anything like this.’

Wind snapped Thymara’s wet black braids. All around them was a fury of sound. Her eyes could make no sense of what the faint moonlight showed her. The river was white as milk. As she clung to the struggling dragon, she shared the creature’s panic and fury. And felt, too, her growing weariness. The water was filled with floating wreckage. Tree limbs and trunks, mats of uprooted bushes, and carcasses of drowned creatures bobbed and swirled in the river. When she stared towards the bank, it looked as if the flow of water now extended far under the forest eaves. As she watched, an immense tree swayed and began an impossibly slow fall. She cried out in terror but there was nothing Sintara could do to avoid it. The tree was coming down, like a tower falling. It leaned, groaned, leaned again, and suddenly the river swept them past it and away from that danger.

‘Dragon!’ Alise shouted suddenly, and stupidly let go of Thymara’s belt with one hand to point downriver of them. ‘Another dragon. I think it is Veras!’

It was. Thymara recognized her by the crest that the dark green female had recently begun to grow. She was still swimming, but it seemed to Thymara that she was lower in the water, as if her weariness was pulling her under. Veras was Jerd’s dragon. Thymara wondered where her keeper was, and then, like a second wave breaking over her, she realized she was not the only keeper swept away by the flood. The others had been gathered around the bonfire. All of them would have been inundated. And what had become of their boats and gear, of Tarman, of all the other dragons? How could she have been thinking only of herself; every one, every thing that made up her current life had been inundated and swept away? Her eyes swept the river in desperate search, but the light was too dim and there were too many objects floating and bobbing in the roiling water.

Beneath her, she felt Sintara’s ribs swell as the dragon took a breath. Then a trumpeting cry burst from her. In the distance, Veras turned her head. A tiny sound like a bird’s squawk reached her straining ears. Then another came, a deeper longer note, drawing her eyes to a massive swimming shape that had to be Ranculos. He bellowed again, and the sense of the sound reached her mind as well. ‘Mercor says swim for the bank. The trees will give us something to brace against. Hold in place until the water goes down. Swim for the bank!’

Sintara’s ribs swelled with air again. With greater energy she trumpeted out the message, passing it on to any who might hear her. ‘Swim for the bank! Swim for the trees!’

In the distance, she heard it echoed by another dragon. And perhaps a second time. After that, at irregular intervals, she heard a dragon trumpet. It seemed to come from the direction of the shore. ‘Go towards the sound,’ she urged Sintara.

Following that advice was not an easy task. The current gripped them firmly and the floating debris created obstacle after obstacle as Sintara battled towards the shore. Once they were caught in an eddy and spun round and round, until Thymara had no sense of direction left.

Alise held tight to Thymara’s belt and gritted her teeth against the pain of her fresh scalds. Where her copper gown touched her, her skin was protected, but her cheeks and forehead and eyelids burned from the acid water. She turned her face up to the rain and felt its coolness as a blessing. She gritted her teeth, her lips pulling back in a sardonic smile. She could die here and she was worrying about a little pain. Ridiculous. She laughed aloud.

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 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.’

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

‘No.’ Alise bit the word off short. She wouldn’t, couldn’t worry now. 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 marvelled 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 towards 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?’

‘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 towards 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 leapt with joy when she saw first Sylve and then Tats venturing out across the packed branches and logs towards them. ‘Be careful!’ she shouted at them. ‘If you fall and go under, we’ll never find you under this mat.’

‘I know!’ Tats was the one to reply. ‘But we have to pull some of it out of the way so Sintara can reach the trees. We’ve been able to help some of the dragons get at least a floating log under their chests to help hold them up.’

‘That would be welcome,’ Sintara immediately replied, and by that admission, Thymara knew she was far more tired than she had thought.

‘We have to get off her,’ she told Alise in a low voice. ‘The mat looks thick enough to support us, if we go carefully.’

Alise was already removing the sash from her gown. It was longer than Thymara had expected, for the Bingtown woman had looped it twice around her waist. ‘Tie this to your wrist,’ she suggested. ‘And I’ll do the same. If one of us slips, the other can save her.’

Thymara clambered down first, half sliding down the dragon’s slick shoulder. She was grateful for the sash on her wrist as Alise pulled her up short of the mat and let her select her landing spot. There was a nearby log with a branch sticking out. Thymara made the successful hop to it, and though it dipped and rocked under her weight, it did not roll and dump her in. She suspected that it had many submerged branches that were now so tangled with other debris that it could not easily shift.

‘It’s good! Come down,’ she called back to Alise. She glanced over to see that Tats had nearly reached the log and stepped onto it. ‘Stay back!’ she warned him. ‘Let me get Alise down and onto this before you add any more weight to it.’ He halted where he was, clearly displeased and anxious, but listening to her. As Alise ventured down, clinging to Sintara’s wing as she came, she heard Sylve’s voice on the other side of Sintara.

‘We have to go slowly, or you’ll dump me in the river. I’ll come towards you on this log. As my weight pushes it down, you’ll try to put a front leg over it. Then, as I back up, you’ll try to edge sideways along it. So far, we’ve been able to help three dragons get some flotation this way. Are you ready to try?’

‘Very ready,’ the dragon replied. She sounded almost grateful and very unlike her usual self. Thymara almost smiled. Perhaps after this, she might see her keepers in a different light.

She gasped aloud as Tats caught her by the arm. ‘I’ve got you,’ he said comfortingly. ‘Come this way.’

‘Let go! You’re throwing me off balance.’ At the hurt look that crossed his face, she added more placatingly, ‘We have to make room for Alise on the log. Move back, Tats.’ As he obeyed her, she said in a quieter voice, i’m so glad to see you alive that I don’t know what to say to you.’

‘Besides “let go!”?’ he asked with bitter humour.

i’m not angry with you any more,’ she told him, a bit surprised to find it was true. ‘To your left, Alise!’ she called as the woman, still clinging to Sintara’s wing, groped for a place to set her foot. ‘A little more, a little more . . . there. You’re right over it. Ease your weight down.’

The Bingtown woman obeyed her, letting out a small squeak as the log initially sank under her weight. She lowered her other foot and stood, arms outstretched like a bird trying to dry its wings after a storm. No sooner was her weight off the dragon than Sintara made a lunge to try to get her front leg over the log that Sylve was weighing down. The dragon’s abrupt movement sent the whole debris pack to rocking. Alise cried out but swayed with the motion, keeping her balance. Thymara, bereft of pride, crouched and then sat on the log. ‘Lower your weight!’ she suggested to Alise. ‘We can crawl along the logs until we reach a place where things are a bit more stable.’

‘I can balance,’ the Bingtown woman replied, and although her voice shook a bit, she kept her upright stance.

‘As you wish,’ Thymara replied. ‘I’m crawling.’ She suspected that her many years’ experience in the treetops had taught her not to take risks unless she had to. She scuttled along the log to its widest end, where its snaggled roots reared up out of the river. There she stood, catching hold of the roots. Tats had preceded her. He now gave her a sideways glance and offered, ‘I’ll show you the way I came out here. Parts of this mat are thicker than others.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied, and waited for Alise to catch up with her, gathering up the slackened sash as she came. She glanced back at Sintara, feeling a bit guilty that she was letting Sylve do the work of caring for her dragon. The small girl moved confidently, instructing the dragon in what she wished her to do. Thymara sighed with relief. She could handle it.

‘Sylve managed to recapture one of the boats,’ Tats said over his shoulder. ‘She’s the one who pulled me out of the water.’

‘I remember when I thought she was too young and childish for an expedition like this,’ Thymara observed, and was surprised when Tats laughed aloud.

‘Adversity brings out the best in us, I suppose.’ They’d reached the first of the large trees. Thymara paused by it, resting her hand on it. It felt so good. It shivered in the passing current, but even so, it felt more solid than anything she had touched in hours. She longed to sink her claws in the bark and climb, but she was still tethered to Alise.

‘There’s one with some lower branches just over there,’ Tats told her.

‘A good choice,’ she agreed. Under the trees, the debris was packed more tightly. It still bobbed under her feet with every step she took, but it was easy to dance across it to the tree that Tats had indicated. As she became more confident of simple survival, a hundred other concerns tried to crowd to the forefront of her mind. She held her questions until they reached the tree Tats had indicated. Thymara climbed a short way up it, sank in claws, and then assisted Alise as Tats gave her a boost to start her up the trunk. The Bingtown woman did not climb well, but between the two of them, they managed to get her up the trunk and onto a stout, almost horizontal branch. It was wide enough for her to lie down on, but she sat cross-legged in the exact middle and crossed her arms. ‘Are you cold?’ Thymara asked her.

‘No. This robe keeps me surprisingly warm. But my face and hands hurt from the river water.’

‘I think my scales kept me from the worst of it,’ Thymara said, and then wondered that she had said it aloud.

The Bingtown woman nodded. ‘Then I envy you that. This Elderling robe seemed to protect me from the water. I don’t understand how. I got wet, but I dried very quickly. And where the gown touches me, I don’t feel any irritation from the water.’

Tats was the one to shrug. ‘Lots of Elderling stuff does things you wouldn’t think it could. Wind chimes that play tunes when the wind blows. Metal that lights up when you touch it. Jewels that smell like perfume and never lose their scent. It’s magical, that’s all.’

Thymara nodded and then asked, ‘How many of us are here?’

‘Most of us,’ he said. ‘Everyone has scratches or bruises. Kase got a nasty gash on his leg, but the water seemed to burn it closed. So I suppose there’s a mercy to that as we don’t have anything to use for bandaging. Ranculos got hit in the ribs with something. When he snorts, blood comes out of his nose, but he insists he’ll be fine if we leave him alone. Harrikin has asked that we do that. He says Ranculos doesn’t want any of us fussing over him. Boxter got hit in the face with something; his eyes are blacked and he can barely see out of them. Tinder hurt his wing, and at first Nortel thought it was broken. But the swelling went down and now he can move it, so we’re thinking it’s just a bad sprain. Lots of injuries for everyone. But at least they’re here.’

Thymara just looked at him. ‘What else?’ Alise demanded He took a breath. ‘Alum’s missing. And Warken. Alum’s dragon keeps trumpeting for him, so we wonder if he is still alive somewhere. We’ve tried talking to Arbuc, but no one can make sense of him. It’s like trying to talk to a scared little child. He just keeps trumpeting and repeating that he wants Alum to come and take him out of the water. Warken’s red is silent; Baliper won’t speak to any of us. Veras, Jerd’s dragon, is also missing. Jerd hasn’t stopped weeping since she got here. She says she can’t “feel” her dragon, so she thinks she drowned.’

‘We saw Veras! She was alive and swimming strongly, but the current was carrying her downriver.’

‘Well, I still think that’s good news. You should tell her.’

Something in his voice alerted Thymara that worse news was to come. She held her breath, waiting for it, but Alise asked immediately, ‘What about Tarman and Captain Leftrin?’

‘Some of us saw the ship, right after the wave first hit. The water went over the top of him, but we saw him bob up again, with white water streaming out of his scuppers. So he was upright and afloat the last time we saw him, but that’s all we know. We haven’t seen anyone from the boat’s crews or any of the hunters, so we hope they were aboard and rode it out on Tarman.’

‘If they did, they’ll come to find us. Captain Leftrin will come for us.’ She spoke with such heartfelt confidence that Thymara almost felt sorry for her. If he didn’t come, she thought, Alise would be hard put to accept that she must rescue herself.

She looked flatly at Tats. ‘And what else?’ she demanded.

‘The silver dragon isn’t here. And neither is Relpda, the little copper queen.’

Thymara sighed. ‘I wondered if they would survive. Neither was very smart, and the copper was always sickly. Perhaps it was a mercy that they went so quickly.’ She looked at Tats, wondering if he would agree with her. But he didn’t seem to hear her words. ‘Who else?’ she asked flatly.

A small stillness followed her question, as if the world paused to prepare itself to grieve. ‘Heeby. And Rapskal. They aren’t here and no one saw anything of either of them after the wave hit.’

‘But I left him with you!’ she protested, as if somehow that meant it were Tats’ fault. She saw him wince and knew he felt the same.

‘I know. One moment we were standing there arguing. The next, the water slapped us down. I never saw him again.’

Thymara crouched down on the tree branch and waited for pain and tears to come. They didn’t. Instead a strange numbness flowed up from her belly. She had killed him. She had killed him by getting so angry at him that she’d stopped caring about him. ‘I was so angry at him,’ she confessed to Tats. ‘What he told me ruined my idea of him, and I thought I’d just have to stop knowing him, stop letting him be near me. And now he’s gone.’

‘Ruined your idea of him?’ Tats asked cautiously.

‘I just never thought he’d do a thing like that. I’d thought he was better than that,’ she said awkwardly.

Too late she saw that Tats accepted that judgment upon himself as well. ‘Maybe none of us are quite what the others think we are,’ he observed shortly and stood. He walked back towards the trunk and she could not think of any words to call him back.

Alise called after him, ‘No one can know that he and Heeby are dead. He might have made it to Tarman. Maybe Captain Leftrin will bring him back to us.’

Tats glanced back at them. His voice was flat as he said, ‘I’m going to tell Jerd that you saw Veras. It might give her a little comfort. Greft has been trying to encourage her, but she hasn’t been listening to him.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Alise encouraged him. ‘Tell her that when we saw her dragon, she was afloat and swimming strongly.’

Thymara let him go. Let him go to comfort Jerd. It didn’t matter to her. She had let go of him when she had let go of Rapskal. She hadn’t really known either of them. It was much better to keep her heart to herself. She wondered if she were being stupid. Did she have to hold onto her hurt and anger? Could she just let it go and forgive him and have him back as her friend? For a moment, it seemed as if it were purely her decision; she could make what he had done an important matter or she could let it go as just something that had happened. Holding onto it was hurting both of them. Before she had known what he had done with Jerd, he’d been her friend. All that had changed was that now she knew.

‘But I can’t unknow it,’ she whispered to herself. ‘And knowing that he could do something like that does show me that he’s a different person from what I believed.’

‘Are you all right?’ Alise asked her. ‘Did you say something?’

‘No, just talking to myself.’ Thymara lifted her hands and covered her eyes. She was safe and her clothing was starting to dry out. She was hungry, but the hunger was beyond her tiredness and hurt. She could wait to deal with it. ‘I think I’m going to find a place to sleep for a bit.’

‘Oh.’ Alise sounded disappointed. ‘I was hoping we’d go and talk with the others. Find out what they saw and what happened to them.’

‘You go ahead. I don’t mind being alone.’

‘But—’ Alise began, and Thymara suddenly saw her problem. She’d probably never climbed a tree before, let alone clambered around through a network of trees. Alise needed her help, but didn’t want to ask. Thymara suddenly longed for simple sleep and time alone. Her head was starting to pound and she wished there were a private place where she could go to weep until she could sleep. Rapskal wandered through her thoughts with his insouciant grin and good humour. Gone. Gone from her twice now, in less than one night. Gone, most likely, for ever.

Her chin quivered suddenly and she might have given way right in front of Alise, had Sylve not saved her. The girl came clambering up the trunk like a squirrel, with Harrikin close behind her. He climbed like a lizard, belly to the trunk, as Thymara did. Once they had gained the branch, he folded up his long lean body and perched with his back to the trunk. Sylve dusted her hands on her stained breeches and informed them, ‘We’ve got Sintara afloat and resting. Harrikin helped me and we got a couple of logs under her chest. We’ve jammed the logs against trees and the current should hold them there, but we roped them with vines just in case. She’s not comfortable, but she’s not going to drown. And the water has already begun to drop. We can tell from the watermark on the trees that it’s going down.’

‘Thank you.’ The words seemed inadequate but she didn’t have anything better to offer her.

‘It was nothing,’ she replied. ‘Harrikin and I are actually getting good at it. I never expected to learn how to float a dragon.’ She smiled with her mouth, glanced at Thymara with red-rimmed eyes, and then away.

‘Mercor and Ranculos?’ Thymara asked. She would not mention Rapskal’s name. Sharing the pain didn’t help it.

‘Mercor is weary but otherwise fine. I’ve asked him if he ever recalled anything like this happening before. Once, he said, one of his ancestors was foolish enough to fly round a mountain that he knew was about to explode. It was a tall one, covered with glaciers and snow, and he wanted to see what would happen when the fire met the ice. When it did erupt, the ice and snow melted instantly and flowed down the mountain, taking stone and muck with it in a thick soup. He said it flowed swift and far, almost out of sight. He wonders if that is what happened, somewhere far away from us, and the wave of it only reached us now.’

Thymara was silent, trying to imagine such a thing. She shook her head. What Sylve was suggesting was on a scale far beyond anything she could imagine. A whole mountain melting and flowing away, clear out of sight? Was such a thing possible?

‘And your dragon, Ranculos?’ she asked Harrikin.

‘Ranculos was clipped by a log in the first tumble of the wave. He’s bruised badly, but at least his skin isn’t broken so the water isn’t eating into him.’ Sylve answered for him. Harrikin nodded slowly to her words. He’d become very still, and in repose he reminded Thymara even more of a lizard, right down to his jewelled unblinking eyes.

‘You found a boat and rescued Tats?’

‘It was random luck. I’d left my dish in the boat. The fish was nearly cooked and I went back to get it. I climbed in and was sorting through my stuff when the wave hit. I held tight to the boat and eventually it came out on top of the water and upright. All I had to do was bail. But it snatched all my gear out. I don’t have a thing except what I’m wearing.’

Slowly it came to Thymara that the same was true for her.

She had not thought her spirits could sink lower, but they did.

‘Does anyone have anything left?’ she asked, thinking desolately of her hunting gear, her blanket, even her dry pair of socks. All gone.

‘We recovered three boats, but I don’t think anything was in any of them. Not even oars. We’ll have to make something that works. Greft has his fire pouch still, but it’s of small use right now. Where would we set a fire? I dread tonight when the mosquitoes come. We’re going to be miserable until the water goes down. And even then, well, my friends, we’ve hard times to face.’

Alise spoke. ‘Captain Leftrin will come and find us. And once he does, and the water goes down, we’ll go on.’

‘Go on?’ Harrikin spoke softly, slowly, as if he could not believe his ears.

The Bingtown woman looked round at her small circle of startled listeners and gave a tiny laugh. ‘Don’t you know your history? It’s what Traders do. We go on. Besides,’ and she shrugged, ‘there’s nothing else we can do.’