The Dragon Keeper

“And you book us as passengers aboard him for a trip up the Rain Wild River.”

Alise turned away from him. She was suddenly very aware of the railing under her hands. It was made of wizardwood, as they used to call it, as was a great deal of the ship’s hull, and his entire figurehead. The Paragon was a wakened liveship, that is, he was self-aware and his figurehead interacted with his crew, supercargo and dock crews just as if he were human. She had heard that liveships were conscious of every word spoken aboard them, and certainly the very light thrumming of the wood beneath her hands made him seem alive. So she spoke her words firmly. “It happened, but I am certain it was not five times. That was long ago, Sedric. From all I have heard, he is a changed ship now, and a much happier one.” She shot her companion a look that begged him to either be silent or change the subject. He leaned back from her, raising one well-shaped eyebrow in confusion. She continued quickly, “Knowing what we know now about the so-called wizardwood, I cannot blame him for anything he did. Indeed, to me it is a wonder that the liveships recovered so well from finally grasping exactly what they were and how they had been created. What we Traders did was unforgivable. In their place, I doubt if I would be so gracious.”

“I don’t understand. Why should they resent us?” Alise was feeling more uncomfortable by the instant. She felt as if she were lecturing Sedric for the Paragon’s benefit. “Sedric! The Rain Wilders who found the dormant dragons in their cases, sometimes incorrectly called cocoons, had no idea what they were. They thought they had found immense logs of very well seasoned wood, the only sort of wood that seemed impervious to the acid waters of the Rain Wild River. So they sawed that wood up into planks and built ships from it. And if, in the centre of those ‘logs’ they found something that obviously was not part of a tree, they simply discarded it. The half-formed dragons were dumped from their cases, to perish.”

“But surely they were dead already, having been so long in the chill and the dark.”

“Tintaglia wasn’t. All it required for her to hatch was some sunlight and a bit of warmth.” She paused and unbidden a lump rose in her throat. Her words were heartfelt as she said, “If only we had understood earlier, dragons would have been restored to the world so much sooner! As it was, we denied them their true shapes. Instead, we fastened planks made from their flesh into ships. Exposed to enough sunlight and interacting intimately with familiar minds, there was a sort of metamorphosis. And they awoke, not as dragons, but as sailing ships.” She fell silent, overcome at what humans, in their ignorance, had done.

“Alise, my old friend, I think you torment yourself needlessly.” Sedric’s tone was gentle rather than condescending, but she still sensed that he was more puzzled by her reaction than stirred to sympathy for the aborted dragons. She felt surprise at that. He was usually so sensitive that his lack of empathy for either the liveships or the dragons puzzled her.

“Ma’am?”

The man had come up behind her so quietly that she jumped at his voice. She turned to look at the young deckhand. “Hello, Clef. Did you need something?”

Clef nodded, and then tossed his head to flip sandy, weather-baked hair from his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. But not me, not exactly. It’s the ship, Paragon. He’d like a word with you, he says.”

There was a faint accent to his words that she couldn’t quite place. And in her time aboard the ship, she hadn’t quite decided what Clef’s status was. He’d been introduced to her as a deckhand but the rest of the crew treated him more like the son of the captain. Captain Trell’s wife Althea mercilessly and affectionately ordered him about, and the captain’s small son who randomly and dangerously roved the ship’s deck and rigging regarded Clef as a large, moving toy. As a result, she smiled at him more warmly than she would have toward an ordinary servant as she clarified, “You said the ship wishes to speak to me? Do you mean the ship’s figurehead?”

A look of annoyance or something kin to it shadowed his face and was gone. “The ship, ma’am. Paragon asked me to come aft and find you and invite you to come and speak with him.”

Sedric had turned and was leaning with his back against the railing. “The ship’s figurehead wishes to speak to a passenger? Isn’t that a bit unusual?” There was warm amusement in his voice. He flashed the grin that usually won people over.

Although Clef remained courteous, he didn’t bother masking his irritation. “No, sir, not really. Most passengers on a liveship make a bit of time to greet the ship when they come on board. And some of them enjoy chatting with him. Most anyone who’s sailed with us more than a time or two counts Paragon as a friend, as they would Captain Trell or Althea.”

“But I’d always heard that the Paragon was a bit, well… not dangerous, perhaps, as he used to be, but… distinctly odd.” Sedric smiled as he spoke but his charm failed to win the young sailor over.

“Well, ain’t we all?” Clef muttered sharply, and then straightened and spoke directly to Alise. “Ma’am, Paragon’s invited you to come and talk with him. If you want me to, I’ll tell him you’d rather not.” He made the offer stiffly.

“But I’d love to speak with him!” she declared. The words and the enthusiasm came easily, for they were honest. “I’ve wanted to speak to him since I came on board, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous, or get in the crew’s way. I’ll come right now, if I may! Sedric, you needn’t accompany me if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sure Clef won’t mind escorting me.”

“Not at all. It will be fascinating, I’m sure.” Sedric straightened from leaning on the railing.

“Then let us go, right now.”

Clef looked uncomfortable but stubborn as he firmly interjected, “But ma’am, it was you the ship wished to speak to. Not him.”

She was startled. “Then you think the ship will not wish him to be present?”

Clef rocked his weight from foot to foot, thinking and then shrugged. “Don’t know. As the man said, our Paragon’s a bit odd. Might be offended or might be flattered. Probably only one way to find out.”

“Then I’ll escort the lady,” Sedric responded easily. He offered his arm and she took it with pleasure. He might have just annoyed her, but it was easy to forgive him.

“I’ll just let Paragon know that you’re coming,” Clef responded quietly. He padded off down the deck, barefoot, swift and silent as a cat. She watched him go and remarked quietly to Sedric, “He’s an odd young man. Did you notice the slave tattoo on his face?”

“It looked as if he’d tried to abrade it away. A shame. He’d be handsomer without the scar.”

“I suppose in his trade, a scar or two is to be expected. When we came down the docks to board, I noticed that even the figurehead is a bit battered. It looks as if he was carved that way, with a broken nose.”

“I didn’t really notice,” Sedric admitted. A moment later, he added, “I should apologize to you, Alise. I’ve neglected you shamefully on this voyage. I wasn’t in the mood for travel so soon after returning to Bingtown.”

She smiled and responded to his polite excuse with honesty. “Sedric, I doubt you would ever be in the mood to travel to the Rain Wilds, no matter how long you’d been at home. And I do apologize that Hest chose to inflict me on you. I truly hadn’t expected anything of the sort. I was startled to discover that he thought I’d need a chaperone for the journey, and when he said I must have one, I expected him to choose some respected old hen to cluck and scuttle after me. Not you! I never imagined his sparing your time away from him to escort me.”

“Nor did I,” Sedric replied drolly, and they both laughed. Alise gave him a genuine smile. This was better, much better. Now he was sounding much more like the Sedric of old.

Without thinking, she squeezed his arm slightly and said, “You know, I’ve missed our old friendship. You may not enjoy this journey, but I think I’ll relish it all the more for your company and conversation.”

“Company and conversation,” he repeated, and an odd note crept into his voice. “I would think you’d prefer your husband for that.”

His comment broke the mood. She was shocked at how deeply she responded to what probably had been intended as a pleasantry. She very nearly told him how very little company and conversation she’d ever had with Hest. Loyalty tied her tongue, or perhaps shame. She teetered on the unpleasant realization that Hest had so completely silenced her. Even out of his presence, he restricted her words. She had no female confidante to divulge her woes to; she’d never had the intimate friendships that she knew some other women enjoyed. Talking with Sedric, recalling how friendly they’d been in their younger years, had wakened a terrible longing for a friend. Yet he was not her friend, not any more. He was her husband’s secretary, and it would be a double betrayal for her to speak frankly of how desiccated a relationship her marriage to Hest was. It was humiliating enough that he