that the world was determined by her rules that she could not see what was right in front of her.
And so she smiled gently at him. ‘Get some rest, dear friend,’ she said, closing the door quietly behind her, shutting him into his oversized packing crate and leaving him in the dark with his thoughts.
He rolled to face the wall. The back of his neck itched. He scratched it furiously, feeling dry skin under his nails. She wasn’t the only one whose appearance was being ruined. His skin was dry, his hair as coarse as a horse’s tail now.
He wished he could blame everything on Alise. He couldn’t. Once Hest had banned him, dooming him to be her companion, Sedric had done all he could to seize any opportunity the trip might present. He was the one who had schemed to take advantage of every opportunity to take a scrap of dragon flesh, a scale, a drop of blood. He’d planned so carefully how he would preserve his collection; Begasti Cored would be waiting to hear from him, anticipating that his own fortune would be founded on being the man to facilitate supplying such forbidden merchandise to the Duke of Chalced.
In some of his daydreams, he returned to Bingtown to show Hest his loot, and Hest helped him to get the best prices for his wares. In those dreams, they sold the goods and never returned to Bingtown, establishing themselves as wealthy men in Chalced, or Jamaillia, or the Pirate Islands, perhaps even beyond, in the near-mythical Spice Islands. In others, he kept his newly-gained wealth a secret until he had established a luxurious hideaway in a distant place. In those dreams, he and Hest took ship by night in secret and sailed off to a new life together, free of lies and deceptions.
And, of late, he’d had other daydreams. They had been bitter but sharp-edged with sweetness, too. He’d imagined returning to Bingtown to discover that Hest had replaced him with that damn Redding. In those dreams he took his wealth and established himself in Chalced, only to reveal to Hest later all that he might have had, if only he’d valued Sedric more, if only he’d been true of heart.
Now all of those dreams seemed silly and shallow, the stuff of adolescent fancy. He pulled the itchy wool blanket up over his shoulders and closed his eyes more tightly. ‘I may never go back to Bingtown,’ he said aloud. He tried to force himself to confront that. ‘Even if I do, I may never be completely sane again.’
For a moment, he let go his grip on himself as Sedric. Instantly, she was hip-deep in chill river water, wading against the cold current. On her belly, he felt the tar plugs that Leftrin had smeared over her injuries. He felt her dim groping towards him, a plea for companionship and comfort. He didn’t want to give it. But he had never been a hard-hearted man. When she invaded his mind, pleading, he had to reach back. ‘You are stronger than you know,’ he told her. ‘Keep moving. Follow the other ones, my copper beauty. Soon there will be better days for you, but for now you must be strong.’
A flow of warm gratitude engulfed him. It would have been so easy to drown in it. Instead, he let it ebb past him and encouraged her to focus what little mind she had on keeping up the gruelling pace. In the small corner of his mind that still belonged solely to himself, he wondered, was there any way to be free of this unwanted sharing? If the copper dragon died, would he feel her pain? Or only the sweet release of freedom?
Alise went back to the galley table. She sat down opposite Leftrin and his perpetual mug of black coffee. All around them, the work of moving the barge went on, like the busy comings and goings of an insect hive. The tillerman was at his tiller, the pole crew moved up and down the decks in their steady rhythm. From the deckhouse window, she watched the endless circuit of Hennesey and Bellin on the starboard side of the barge. Grigsby, the ship’s yellow cat, perched on the railing and watched the water. Carson had risen before dawn and set off up the river to do his day’s hunting for the dragons. Davvie had stayed aboard. The boy had developed a peculiar fixation on Sedric and his wellbeing. He could not tolerate anyone else preparing the sick man’s meals or waiting on him. She found it both endearing and annoying that a lad from such a rough background would be so fascinated by an elegant young Trader. Leftrin had twice muttered against it, but she could not grasp the nature of his complaint, and so had ignored it.
Usually by this hour, she and Leftrin would be left in relative peace and isolation. Today, the hunter Jess had lingered, a near-silent yet very annoying presence on the barge. No matter where she went, he was nearby. Yesterday, twice she had looked up to find him staring at her. He’d met her gaze and nodded meaningfully, as if there were something they agreed upon. For the life of her, she couldn’t work out what he was about. She’d have discussed it with Leftrin, except that Jess always seemed to be lurking just within earshot.
The hunter made her uncomfortable. She’d become accustomed to how the Rain Wilds had marked Leftrin. She accepted it as a part of him now and scarcely noticed it except for the moments when a flash of sunlight would strike a gleam from the scaling in his brows. Then it seemed exotic, not repulsive. But Jess was marked in less flattering ways. He reminded her, not of a dragon nor even a lizard, but of a snake. His nose was flattening into his face, his nostrils becoming slit-like in the process. His eyes seemed set too far apart, as if they were seeking to be on the sides of his head instead of the front. She’d always taken pride that she didn’t judge folk by their appearances. But she could not look at Jess and feel comfortable, let alone have a real conversation with him.
So in the man’s presence, she kept her discussion to generalities and expected topics. She said brightly, ‘Well, Sedric seems a bit better today. I did ask him if he’d like to return to Cassarick in one of the small boats, but he said he didn’t. I think he feels the trip would be too dangerous, with the autumn rains coming on.’
Leftrin lifted his eyes to hers. ‘So you’ll both be continuing with the expedition, no matter how long it takes?’ She heard a hundred questions in his voice and tried to answer them all.
‘I think we will. I know I want to see this through to the end.’
Jess laughed. He was leaning against the frame of the galley door, apparently looking out over the river. He didn’t turn to either of them and made no other comment. Her glance sought Leftrin’s again. He met her gaze, but gave no sign of a reaction to the man’s odd behaviour. Perhaps she was overreacting. She changed the subject.
‘You know, until I came for this visit, I never truly understood what the Rain Wilders faced in trying to build settlements here. I suppose I always imagined that in all this vast valley, somewhere they would have found some truly dry ground. But there isn’t, is there?’
‘Bog and slough and marsh,’ Leftrin confirmed for her. ‘No other place in the world like it, as far as I know. There are a few charts from the old days when settlers first came here. They tried to explore. Some show a big lake upriver of us, one that is said to spread as far as the eye can see. Others charted over a hundred tributaries that feed the Rain Wild River, some big, some small. They all wander back and forth in their beds. Some years two become one, and a year later, there are three streams where one river used to dump into the river. Two years after that, it’s just all marsh, no defined streams or river at all.
‘The forest ground sometimes looks solid, and sometimes folk have found a patch they think is dry and tried to settle on it. But the more traffic there is, the sooner the “dry ground” starts to give way. Pretty soon the ground water breaks through to the surface and from there, well, it goes marshy pretty fast.’
‘But you do think that somewhere upriver, there will be an area of truly dry land for the dragons to settle on?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. But I think there must be. Water flows downhill, and all this water comes from somewhere. Trouble is, can we navigate that far, or does it all turn into marsh before we get there? I think we’re about as far upriver as anyone has ever come by ship. Tarman can go where
