The Dragon Keeper

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. On 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 her all 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 ground-shaking 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 backwards 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 paralysed 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, 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.

Then he had dropped his arms and stepped back from her. The night was as warm and muggy, the insects chirred and buzzed, and she heard the night call of a gnat-chaser. But it had all seemed separate from her then. Last night, as now, she knew herself for the mousy, scholarly little Bingtown woman that she undoubtedly was. She’d sold herself to Hest, prostituted out her ability to bear a child for the security and position that he had offered. She’d made the deal, and signed on it. A Trader was only as good as his word, so the saying went. She’d given her word. What was it worth?

Even if she took it back now, even if she broke it faithlessly, she’d still be a mousy little Bingtown woman, not what she longed to be. She could scarcely bear to consider what she longed to be, not only because it was so far beyond her but because it seemed such a childishly extravagant dream. In the dark circle of her arms, she closed her eyes and thought of Althea, wife to the captain of the Paragon. She’d seen that woman dashing about the deck barefoot, wearing loose trousers like a man. She’d seen her standing up by her ship’s figurehead, the wind stirring her hair and a smile curving her lips as she exchanged some jest with the ship’s boy. And then Captain Trell had bounded up the short ladder to the foredeck to join them there. She and the captain had moved without even looking at one another, like a needle drawn to a magnet, their arms lifting as if they were the halves of the god Sa becoming whole again. She’d thought her heart would break with envy.

What would it be like, she wondered, to have a man who had to embrace you when he saw you, even if you’d just risen from a shared bed a few hours earlier? She tried to imagine herself as free as that Althea woman, running barefoot on the decks of the Tarman. Could she ever lean on a railing in a way that said she completely owned and trusted the ship? She thought of Leftrin and tried to see him dispassionately. He was uncouth and unschooled. He told jokes at the table and she’d seen him laugh so hard that the tea spewed from his mouth, at a coarse jest from one of his sailors. He didn’t shave every day, nor wash as often as a gentleman should. The elbows of his shirts and the knees of his trousers were scuffed with work.

The short nails of his wide hands were broken and rough. Where Hest was tall and lean and elegant, Leftrin was perhaps an inch taller than she was, wide-shouldered and thick-bodied. Her female friends in Bingtown would turn aside if a man like that spoke to them on the street.

Then she thought of his grey eyes, grey as the river he loved and her heart melted. She thought of the ruddy tops of his unshaven cheeks, and how his lips seemed redder and fuller than Hest’s sophisticated smile. She longed to kiss that mouth, and to feel those callused hands clasp her close. She missed sleeping in his bunk, missed the smell of him in the room and on the bedding. She wanted him as she’d never wanted anything or anyone before. At the thought of him, her body warmed even as tears filled her eyes.

She sat up straight and dashed the useless water from her eyes. “Take what you can have, for the short time you can have it,” she counselled herself sternly. She wondered briefly why the ship hadn’t left the beach yet. She dried her eyes more thoroughly, smoothed her wayward hair and then stepped to the door. She would not break her word to Hest. They had made an agreement to be faithful to one another. She would honour it.

The brightness of full day was dazzling after the dimness of her room. She came out onto the deck and was surprised to see Sedric standing at the railing with Leftrin. They were both staring toward shore. “I’m going to see what’s going on,” Leftrin announced and headed toward the bow. Alise hurried over to join Sedric.

“What is the matter?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. Some sort of ruckus among the keepers. The Captain has gone to see what it is about. How are you this morning, Alise?”

“Well enough, thank you.” On the shore, voices were raised in alarm. She saw some of the young keepers running. Sleepy dragons were lifting their heads and turning them toward the disturbance. “I think I’d best go see what that is about,” she excused herself. She started down the deck after Leftrin. He hadn’t seen her arrive. As she watched, he climbed over the bow railing and started down the rope ladder to the shore.

“I think it would be better if you didn’t,” Sedric suggested strongly.

She halted reluctantly and turned back to face him. She studied his face for a moment and then asked him, “Is something wrong?”

His gaze met hers, studying her face. “I’m not sure,” he said quietly. “I hope there isn’t.” He glanced away from her and for a moment they shared an uncomfortable silence. On the shore, the keepers seemed to be gathering around the small brown dragon. She knew he hadn’t been well lately and felt a sudden clutch of fear. “You don’t have to protect me, Sedric. If the dragon has died, he has died. I know the others will eat him, And, believe it or not, I feel that I need to witness that. There will be parts of dragon behaviour that men will find distasteful, but that doesn’t mean that I should avoid learning about them.”

She turned to go, but his voice halted her again. “That’s not at all what I’m concerned about. Alise, I feel I must speak bluntly. And confidentially. Please, come back here where we can discuss this quietly.”

She didn’t want to. “Discuss what?”

“You,” he said in a soft voice. “You and Captain Leftrin.”

For a time, she stood frozen. There was a hubbub of voices on the shore. She glanced that way, and saw Leftrin hastening toward the group. Then she turned back and wearing her calmest expression, walked back toward Sedric. “I don’t understand,” she offered him, trying to sound puzzled. Trying to keep breathing, to keep the blood from rushing to her face.

He wasn’t fooled. “Alise, you do. We’ve known one another too well for too long for you to be able to hide it from me. You’re infatuated with that man. Why, I can’t imagine. I compare him to Hest, to what you already have and—”

“Shut up.” The harshness of her own voice shocked her, as did the bluntness of her words. She couldn’t