in and put me back together. He wasn't a proper alchemist though. He was one of the ones who wasn't quite good enough. Or that's how he put it. You see, they do buy children and maybe they make some of their own too, and they school them for ten years, which is longer than any king or queen by the way. The ones who aren't clever enough by then they make into Scales. You remember those? You had one once. Kailin. You ate him.'
Snow didn't answer and her thoughts were her own. After a good long pause Kemir went on. 'Scales are freaks even before the Hatchling Disease starts turning them into living statues. I don't know whether the alchemists do something to them or whether after ten years they're just like that on their own. The ones they don't make into Scales they make into apprentices. Those are the ones who start to learn all the juicy secrets. Except even then they don't. Ten more years as an apprentice and even then half of them still get sent away, like the one I met. He was a sort of half-alchemist, I suppose. He didn't know much, or if he did, he was sharp enough to keep it to himself even when he was so drunk he couldn't pull up his trousers. They wander about the realms, travelling tinkers and traders. Every now and then the Order pays them for a favour. You know what he said pissed him off the most? He didn't know who his father was, nor his mother. Order wouldn't tell him, or else they didn't know. Likely as not they'd long spent what they got for selling him and were poor as shit again, and he didn't know who they were. Poor bastard.' He paused, lost in memory. 'No family. Never even knew them. That's bad.'
Is that it? That's what you know? That seems unlikely to be useful.
Kemir shrugged. 'What were you hoping for? I know the routes the alchemists take to deliver their potions, but that's no great secret. Just watch for wagons escorted by a legion of Adamantine Men coming down the Evenspire Road.' He snorted. 'Except with you around they'll probably take to flying everything on dragon-back.'
That is much more the sort of information I desire. Your other memories are not interesting.
'That's very kind, dragon. Why don't you piss off?'
Eat, Kemir. She tossed him another hunk of roasted cow carcass. She didn't say anything, but when he was done, when he'd filled his belly so he could hardly move and had stripped away as much of the meat as would keep, she studied him.
The one that was here before is here again, she told him. The boy you called nest-mate. The one you said that I should not eat. Do you still wish me to leave?
Kemir glowered. 'Read my mind, dragon.'
He waited until she got the message and thundered into the moonlit sky. When she was gone he put some of the meat he'd saved onto the ground near the trees and backed away.
'You can come out!' he shouted. 'Dragon's gone now. I don't want to hurt you. You must be hungry. You can share our food.'
He waited, watching, but the boy didn't come out. And I can hardly blame him for that, can I? We came out of nowhere, ate his family and destroyed his home. I know exactly how he feels. He left the meat where it was and sat watching in secret for a while longer. When the boy still didn't come he settled down beside the fire and closed his eyes. He waited, eyes drooping but not quite shut. An empty belly and the smell of roasted fat brought you here, but I know what's on your mind.
The boy didn't disappoint him. He waited a good long time before he came, until Kemir had been pretending to snore for so long that his throat was sore. He came out of the trees with a heavy stick ready in his hand and didn't even glance at the meat left out for him. Kemir watched him come through lidded eyes, slow and purposeful. Good lad. Got your priorities right. Got a good idea what you're doing too. A knife would be better, but where would you get one of those out here, eh? The boy was slow and careful with each step. If he was scared, he didn't show it. He reached Kemir and raised the stick and only then hesitated. Well, what's it to be? Are you still a boy? Or are you a man?
The stick came down. The blow wasn't the best, and certainly wouldn't have killed him. Still, it was a good try and Kemir smiled as he caught the stick and held on to it. He gave the stick a good tug, and then when the boy pulled back, he let go. The boy tumbled over backwards. Kemir jumped on him, making sure he had no chance to get up.
'I don't want to fight with you, lad. What's your name?'
The boy screamed something incoherent and spat at him.
'I'm not going to hurt you.' Carefully he let the boy go. The boy jumped to his feet, grabbed his stick and backed away. Then he came at Kemir, who caught the first couple of blows on his forearms, wincing at the pain from the burns still healing under his sleeves. On the third one, he ducked aside and kicked the boy's legs out from under him.
'I could show you how to fight, if you like.'
The boy screamed again, turned and ran. When he saw Kemir wasn't following, he stopped long enough to grab a piece of meat and then vanished into the trees. Kemir shrugged and settled with his back to the fire to watch.
'I was older than you when the riders came,' he called out. 'Not by many years, but enough to make a difference. You listen to this, boy! We were on the edge of a lake. Just like this. We even had a few animals. We thought the dragon-riders would never find us. Even if they did, we thought they'd leave us alone. Just like this place here.
'Are you still there, boy? Are you listening?' He raised his voice, then slumped back to the ground and shook his head and his voice dropped. No. Of course he wasn't. There wasn't anyone here to listen to him at all. Except the stars. There were always stars, or else the moon or sometimes some clouds when he needed an ear. 'We all ran into the trees, when the dragons came. They filled the ground we'd cleared by the edge of the lake. They caught a few of us, but they didn't burn anything or kill anyone. They had riders who said that we belonged to the King of the Crags. That we had to give them everything they asked for as a tribute. As payment for their protection. They wanted what they always want. Men to sell as slaves and women for… Well, you'll know all about that in time. The older men decided we'd give them what they wanted. We should have fought, that's what I said. I wasn't the only one either, but what did I know? I was barely a man, like you, all full of piss and vinegar. Anyway, you've seen one. Think about it, boy. How do you fight a dragon?'
He sighed. He didn't know who he was talking to. The trees and the water. The dead, perhaps. Certainly not the boy in the woods, who was surely long gone. 'A few of us left then. Just upped and went. The clever ones. They were gone whe'n the dragons came back a few days later, with their wooden slave cages. We gave up our own people. There were boys and girls, tied up by their own weeping mothers and fathers to be sold to the dragon- riders. That's how it was, boy. There were fights. People killed by their own families. We never had that before. They chose us by lots. Ten young men and ten girls between the ages of ten and sixteen. I was one of the ones who should have gone. I ran away and hid for days and they didn't find me. Someone else went in my place. I knew him. Everyone knew everyone. He was family, of a sort. A friend. I hated everyone. I wasn't alone. People who lost their sons and daughters and brothers and sisters held grudges against those who didn't. The boy who was taken because I'd hidden had a brother. He came for me with a knife. I laid him out with a stick. I didn't want to kill him, but he wouldn't stop. He came after me again and again. I think he wanted me to kill him.' Kemir sniffed and blinked and was surprised to find tears in his eyes. He wasn't talking to anyone except himself now. He could barely see the trees any more. All he could see was the memory, the burning. His voice broke to a whisper. 'Took me a long time before I understood how he must have felt. Took a dragon to teach me that.
'The riders took our hearts, all of them. We were empty shells. No one laughed any more.' He blinked. 'And then they came back for the last time. Me and Sollos were on the other side of the lake when they came. By the time we got back, it was all gone. Nothing but ash. They didn't take slaves this time. They didn't take anything. After they'd burned it all, they landed. Anyone they hadn't killed with fire they put to the sword. They weren't the same riders as had come before. I could see that by their dragons. Different, you see. And you know what, boy? For all the oaths I swore that day, maybe those riders were the merciful ones. They put us out of our misery.' He gave a bitter laugh. 'That was Prince Valmeyan.
He was a king by the time I knew his name. I swore I'd destroy him for what he'd done. Him and every one of his riders. I never had any idea how, but I want to see him burn. I still do. Slowly, as he looks out over the ashes of everything he loves. See, boy, I know how you feel. Sollos and I, we learned to be soldiers so we could fight. I was always good with a bow. We set about killing riders. Murdered a couple and then we had to run to the furthest corner of the realms. Out to the moors in the east. After that we took work as we could get it. Killing work, if you get my drift. It was easier that way but I'm glad it's stopped. I never liked it. Not the killing, you understand. That was fine. It was the taking orders from them.'
