Dragon Haven. Robin Hobb
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‘I think what I’m learning is important, but I’m not certain it’s useful to the expedition. If I had a more solid skill, such as providing food or—’
‘Don’t you think the knowledge you just got out of Mercor is useful? I’m not sure that any of us would have been able to provoke that information out of him.’
‘I’m not sure it’s that useful to know,’ Alise said. She tried to keep her edge, but Leftrin knew too well how to calm her. And his view of her conversation with the dragon intrigued her.
‘Well, Mercor is right in that fish don’t have to stay in one spot. They move. But you’re right in that we haven’t seen any of these kinds of fish before. So I’d guess that we’re closer to where they used to live than we were. If their ancestors came from a lake that used to be on the water system before one got to Kelsingra, then we’re still going in the right direction. There’s still hope of finding it. I’d begun to fear that we’d passed by where it used to be and there’d been no sign of it.’
She was flabbergasted. ‘I’d never even considered such a thing.’
‘Well, it’s been on my mind quite a bit of late. With your friend Sedric so sick and you so downhearted, I’d begun to ask myself if there was any point to going any further. Maybe it was a pointless expedition to nowhere. But I’m going to take those fish as a sign that we’re on the right track, and push on.’
‘For how much longer?’
He paused before he answered that. ‘Until we give up, I suppose,’ he said.
‘And what would determine that?’ The itching was starting to burn. She began to walk faster. He didn’t comment on it, but accommodated his stride to hers.
‘When it was clearly hopeless,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Until the river gets spread so shallow that not even Tarman can stay afloat. Or until the rains of winter come and make the water so deep and the current so strong that we can’t make any headway against it. That was what I told myself at first. To be honest with you, Alise, this has turned out very differently from what I expected. I thought we’d have dead and dying dragons by now, not to mention keepers that either got hurt, sick or ran off. We’ve had none of that. And I’ve come to like these youngsters more than I care to admit, and even to admire some of the dragons. That Mercor, for instance. He’s got courage and heart. He went right after Thymara, when I thought she was dead and gone for sure.’ He chuckled and shook his head. ‘Now she’s a tough one. No tears or whining. Just got up and shook it off. They’re all growing up as each day passes, keepers and dragons alike.’
‘In more ways than you might guess,’ she confirmed. She tugged her collar loose. ‘Leftrin, I’m going to run for the boat. My skin is starting to burn.’
‘What did you mean by what you just said?’ he called after her, but she didn’t reply. She darted away from him, easily outdistancing his more ponderous stride. ‘I’ll haul some clean water for you,’ he shouted after her, and she fled, skin burning, towards Tarman.
Sintara stalked away down the beach, away from the fish that she had rightfully brought to shore when the others were in danger of losing it. She hadn’t even had a bite of it. And it was all Thymara’s fault, for not getting out of the way when the dragon entered the water.
Humans were stupid in a way that Sintara found intolerable. What did the girl expect of her? That she was to be her coddling, enamoured pet? That she would endeavour to fill every gap in her gnat’s life? She should take a mate if she wished for that sort of companionship. She did not understand why humans longed for so much intense contact. Were their own thoughts never sufficient for them? Why did they look for others to fulfil their needs instead of simply taking care of themselves?
Thymara’s unhappiness was like a buzzing mosquito in her ear. Ever since her blood had spattered on Thymara’s face and lips, she’d been aware of the girl in a very uncomfortable way. It wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t intended to share her blood with her, or to create the awareness of one another that would always exist now. And it certainly had not been her decision to accelerate the changes that Thymara was undergoing. She had no desire to create an Elderling, let alone devote the thought and time that moulding one required. Let the others contemplate such an old-fashioned pastime. Humans were ridiculously short-lived. Even when a dragon modified one to extend its lifetime several times over, they still lived only a fraction of a dragon’s life. Why bother to create one and become attached to it when it was only going to die soon anyway?
Now Thymara had gone off on her own, to sulk. Or to grieve. Sometimes the distinction between the two seemed very insignificant to Sintara. There, now, the girl was crying, as if crying were a thing one did to fix something rather than a messy reaction that humans had to anything difficult. Sintara hated sharing Thymara’s sensation of painful tears and dribbling nose and sore throat. She wanted to snap at the girl, but she knew that would only make her wail more. So, with great restraint, she reached out to her gently.
Thymara. Please stop this nonsense. It only makes both of us uncomfortable.
Rejection. That was all she sensed from the girl. Not even a coherent thought, only a futile effort to push the dragon out of her thoughts. How dare she be so rude! As if Sintara had wanted to be aware of her at all!
The dragon found a sunny spot on the mud bank and stretched out. Stay out of my mind, she warned the girl, and resolutely turned her thoughts away from her. But she could not quite quench a small sense of desolation and sorrow.
Day the 14th of the Prayer Moon
Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug to Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
Shipped this day twenty-five of my birds on the liveship Goldendown. The captain of that vessel bears for you a payment from the Trehaug Rain Wild Council sufficient for three hundredweight sacks of the yellow peas for pigeon feed.
Erek,
I have finally persuaded the Council of the value of a good diet for the birds. I also showed them several of the king pigeons, including two half grown squabs, and told them that the birds could lay two eggs every sixteen days, and that a good pair frequently laid another set of eggs as soon as the first hatched, so that a steady stream of squabs suitable for the table could be produced by free-ranging birds. They seemed very amenable to the idea.
Of Meldar and Finbok, I can tell you only what I have heard from Cassarick. The woman was very eager to depart with the expedition and signed on as a contracted member of the crew. Meldar appears to have simply gone along. The ship did not take any message birds with it, a foolish oversight in my opinion. Until they return or do not return, we shall not know what has become of them. I am sorry I do not have more details for the families.
Detozi
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