Stupid, he told himself. Yet his hand still reached.
A bit later Kataros wrapped herself around his arm and stroked his hair. ‘When we cross the sea, will the ship be like this one?’
‘I’ve never seen the ships that cross the Endless Sea. I’ve heard they’re huge, like floating castles. End to end longer than the biggest dragon, with masts as tall as the Tower of Air and sails the size of clouds. They’re graceful and elegant with slender curves, or else they’re squat and fat with great big bellies. I once heard that each ship comes with more than a hundred Taiytakei sailors on board and that they take twice that many slaves away with them.’ He spat. ‘Slaves.’ That was something he’d regret one day. That he’d never get anything back for the family and home he’d lost. That the King of the Crags would never know his name. Never hear it and fear it, never suffer, somehow, for what his riders had done to Kemir’s home.
He glanced down the barge, looking for the woman and her boys he’d rescued from Valleyford. Another little thing he’d done right. They were on their own now though, he’d had to be clear about that. Couldn’t be turning into a walking orphanage.
‘Dragons and ships don’t mix,’ said Kataros. ‘I heard that once. From my rider. He said that when dragons saw ships, they always went into a frenzy. They couldn’t help themselves.’
Kemir squeezed her hand. ‘Dragons are death to ships. I heard that too.’ Aren’t they death to everything? He glanced up at the sky, scanning the banks of the river and the low rolling landscape beyond. Out here on the river they were exposed. Easy prey. He’d been jumpy the whole day, and couldn’t shake the feeling even now, with the sun sinking towards the distant spires of the Pinnacles. ‘When we reach Furymouth, we’ll go straight to the harbour. Nothing else. We’ll find one of those Taiytakei sailors and work out a way to get on a ship, and we’ll go. I wouldn’t worry about dragons once you’re on their ships. Dragons will leave them alone.’ At least they did the last time, when the ships passed the islands that don’t appear on any map. Or was it the silver men aboard them that that made Snow so nervous?
The Silver Kings…
Again he looked around, never quite free of the idea that some part of Snow was always with him, always watching, always listening.
‘I’ve never seen a Taiytakei. We were not allowed to go near them. It’s forbidden to any who even begin the path of alchemy.’
‘You can’t miss them. Skin painted as blue as a summer sky or else black as night. They cover themselves with gold and jewels and lots of bright feathers. Look like something between a giant bird and a prince with half his treasury stuck to him.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I don’t think I ever heard of one being robbed though. Strange, huh?’ Now he stood up, hauling Kataros to her feet beside him. The sun was getting low. ‘Come on, let’s go down below where’s its dark for a bit.’ He squeezed her and she giggled. It was best not to think about dragons. Anyway dark fell quickly in this part of the realms. They were probably safe. Best to think about something else. And Kat, when he let her, was good at making him think about something else. Or maybe that was the little pinches of dust they both took.
No more dragons. No more alchemists. No more riders, no more knights, no more smell of burned flesh and scorched hair.
At dawn he was up, sitting in his favourite spot in the bows where nobody would bother him, eyes searching again. Not searching for anything in particular, just searching, as always, for something. Kat was still snoring down below. He watched the shore as the boat turned towards it, towards another town built up on the bank: Hammerford, Valleyford’s poor orphan cousin. More a fishing town than a market, although that never stopped the locals from getting all dressed up in their colourful market best to sell their goods down at the waterfront to the traders on the river. They were already there now, dressed up as usual, selling their wares although they surely must know what had happened up the river. Kemir wondered at that. Why didn’t they run? Why didn’t everyone run?
Other boats from Valleyford had arrived ahead of them. For a while he watched them instead. Then he watched the town. He was getting good at watching things. The person he’d been before Snow had never been one for watching, was much more interested in getting on and doing. The new Kemir, it seemed, was much more content to do nothing at all. That was probably good if he was going to be a shopkeeper.
The barge reached the little harbour and fought itself into a place to tie up. Kat came up to sit with him. He held her hand, looking out across the crowded wooden jetty and then to the shore. He thought he saw the Picker again, somewhere in the bustle along the water-front. A glimpse, that was all, but enough to make him shiver. The market was madness, almost a riot. Refugees from Valleyford and Plag’s Bay, buying whatever food they could, bewildered traders pushing up their prices. There were fights breaking out already and it wouldn’t get any better. Any moment now, he reckoned, for the first stabbing. After that…
‘We stay on the boat,’ he muttered.
Kat frowned at him. ‘I thought you didn’t like being on the boat.’
‘Hate it.’ Sometimes he wondered if she had the first idea what was really happening. She seemed to live in some sort of cocoon. He shivered. ‘Hate being stuck in a small cramped space. But this is going to fall to fighting and looting. Won’t trouble us here, and that’s the way I like it. We just keep our distance. That’s me. Not a stand- and-fight sort of person. Definitely more of a pick-them-off-from-a-distance-with-a-bow sort.’
Kataros looked horrified. Kemir shrugged. Not that staying on the boat was much better with dragons abroad. Boats weren’t much good when you suddenly needed some place to run. But dragons might come or dragons might not. A bloody riot on the docks was a certainty.
‘I’ve known a lot of stand-and-fight types and I watched a good few of them get killed. Three men with knives and clubs walk into a tavern where you’re drinking, you don’t turn and face them. Not if you don’t want to get stuck. No, you quietly leave out the back while they’re looking for you and then you wait outside down the street in the shadows with a bow in one hand, an arrow in the other and two more stuck in the dirt between your feet.’ Kemir glanced over to where he might have seen the Picker, if he wasn’t seeing ghosts again. Staying on the boat was for the best. He’d seen food riots before. There’d be pickings when it was done. But still. A man likes to have a place to run. On a boat there’s nowhere.
Maybe they could slip round the edge? Get ashore but away from the docks?
Oh, listen to yourself. Just wait it out. He stared out along the river. Southwards, towards Furymouth. Towards freedom. What am I doing? Does it have to be a ship? Are they really going to tear the world apart? The alchemists will find a way to stop them, won’t they? Five dragons wasn’t enough. How many…?
His thoughts trailed away. He was looking down the river, and something was coming towards him. Something large and far away, skimming the surface of the water.
No. Two somethings.
One of them flashed. Fire.
All his weight seemed to drain from his shoulders and his arms down to his feet. His head felt suddenly fuzzy and not really attached to the rest of him. His boots were made of lead and nailed to the deck. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t even lift his arm to point or open his mouth to speak.
They were coming.
It couldn’t be Snow. He told himself that. It couldn’t be her. There was nothing here. No alchemists. She was going north. She said. Dragons didn’t even understand revenge.
Right. And dragons never lie or change their minds, eh?
Alchemists. He still couldn’t move. Alchemists. That’s what she’d said. The potions are running out. They can’t make enough any more. He’d felt her glee. Now he knew what else she’d been thinking, what he hadn’t seen back at the mountainside. She knows where the alchemists go. She knows their paths and how they carry their potions. She knows because I know. Because I told her. And the river is one of them. The river and the Evenspire Road and Yinazhin’s Way…
He swallowed hard. The dragons were already closer. From the flashes of fire, there wasn’t much doubt about what they were doing, either. They were zigzagging across the Fury, burning every boat they passed. Kemir even saw one, what must have been one of the tiny fishing rafts, snatched up and tossed into the air.
Could be this wasn’t Snow. Could be these were the dragons that had razed Plag’s Bay. As if that made the slightest bit of difference when you were on the ground and they were coming towards you.
He felt a tugging on his arm. Kat. She’d seen them. ‘Are those.. .?’
‘Yes.’ He turned away, pulled her with him ready to run, but the crowd by the river was impossibly thick.
