“They are beautiful.” He spoke the words aloud, sorrowfully, and felt her bask in the compliment.
“Beautiful is right. And the leather from them will last hundreds of years, according to the tales. But they’re too big for us to harvest. They’d rot before we got down the river.” Jess was edging toward her on a fallen tree. Branches covered in leaves were both impediments and handholds for him as he sidled along it. He halted where he was and laughed aloud at Sedric’s scowl. “Don’t glare at me. You know it’s true. Keep her calm. All the debris has been loosened by her struggling, so the pack isn’t as sturdy here. I don’t want her to knock me into the water and have it close up over my head.” He grunted as he worked his way cautiously along the floating tree.
He paused a man’s length away from her. He was watching the dragon, not Sedric. He knew Sedric had no choice but to help him. “When I get closer, tell her to extend her head toward me. I’ll get a rope around her neck and then I’ll try to lead her in close to one of the big trees. As long as she’s afloat and doesn’t fight me, I should be able to get her where I want her.”
He knew he couldn’t save her. She was going to die. If Jess succeeded, at least her death would be quick. And it would serve a purpose. At least one of them could go on to live a decent life. The hunter would make it quick. He’d said so.
Danger? Relpda was watching Jess make his final approach. What was she sensing from him?
The hunter had nearly reached her. He balanced at the thick end of the fallen tree, just short of the upthrust of muddy roots that ended it. He was shaking out the rope and eyeing the dragon as he did so. Sedric marked that he still gripped the fish spear in one hand as he worked. His darting glance went from the dragon to Sedric and back again as he studied her neck and measured out line. “Keep her calm, now,” he reminded Sedric. “There’s not a lot of line here. Once I get the rope around her neck, I’m going to have to snub her up pretty close to the tree. But that will keep her head above the water afterward.”
It wasn’t something he was doing. He was here, but he couldn’t stop it from happening. If he tried to intervene, Jess was capable of killing him as well. And what good would that do the dragon? It was her inevitable end. He watched it, feeling that he owed her that much, to witness her end. I’m sorry, he thought at her, and received only confusion in response.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Jess was holding out a large loop of line. He had the fish spear trapped under his arm as he held the noose to one side of his body. “Tell her to reach her head out toward me. Slowly. Tell her I’m going to help her.”
Sedric took a deep breath. His throat kept closing up. Give in to the inevitable, he counseled himself. “Relpda,” Sedric said softly. “Listen to me, now. Listen carefully.”
Day the 19th of the Prayer Moon
Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
Enclosed, a message from Trader Wycof to the First Mate Jos Peerson of the liveship Ophelia, soon to dock at Trehaug, informing him of the birth of twin daughters to his wife on this day.
Detozi,
An illness in my family has forced me to postpone all thoughts of leaving Bingtown at this time. My father is seriously ill. I fear that my hopes of visiting the Rain Wilds and finally meeting you must be put off for the time being. I am disappointed.
Have you yourself ever considered a visit to Bingtown? I am sure your nephew would be very pleased by such a visit.
Erek
CHAPTER SEVEN
RESCUE
Night had been every bit as miserable as Thymara had feared it would be. The keepers had banded together to build a sort of platform, layering drift logs in alternating angles on top of one another. Leafy branches were torn down to provide cushioning over the bumpy logs. The resulting “raft” had not been sturdy, but there had been room for them to huddle together and commiserate while the mosquitoes and gnats feasted on them. There was no flat place to sleep, so Thymara had balanced her body on one of the wider logs. She had considered taking to the trees for the night but had finally decided to stay closer to the dragons and the other keepers. Every time she started to doze off, Alum’s dragon would trumpet mournfully and she’d rouse. Too many times that night, tears had followed. The small sounds she heard from the others on the raft told her that she was not alone in her fears. Toward morning, not even the sorrow and sounds, let alone the buzzing, bites, and branch nubs could keep Thymara alert any longer. She had dozed down past the nightmares and grief to a deep sleep and had awakened chill and stiff and damp with morning dew.