“Do you think they know the way?” Tats asked with interest. “I mean, I’ve heard the name of the city, but it’s like hearing about an imaginary land. People say this or that about it, but no one really knows anything about Kelsingra.”

“I do,” Alise asserted with quiet confidence. “Quite a bit, actually, though I won’t claim to know the exact location, other than that it’s upriver of here, possibly on a tributary of the Rain Wild River. But the dragons will know more than that. They have their ancestral memories to draw on. I suspect they’ll be our best guides.”

“I’m not sure how much they recall,” Tats said quietly. “My little green dragon seems ignorant of a lot of things.”

“Such as?” Alise pushed.

Tats shifted uncomfortably under her focus. “Oh, odd things. I was talking with her while I groomed her, but she seemed to have very little to say, so I was chatting about anything at all. I asked her if she remembered being a serpent, and she said no. Then I told her that it had been years since I’d seen the ocean, and she asked me what the ocean was. It was very strange. She knows she hatched from a serpent, but the river seems to be the only body of water she recalls.” He halted, as if he dreaded admitting something, and then added, “I don’t think she remembers anything except the life she has had here.”

“That’s . . . disturbing,” Alise agreed. She stared after the dragons, frowning.

Thymara shifted restlessly. “We need to follow them.”


The man from the barge, Captain Leftrin, came running across the mudflats toward them. “Alise!” he shouted. “Sedric! Get aboard. We need to cast off and follow the dragons as soon as possible. The ship is ready to leave.”

“I’ll be right there,” Alise promised, but Sedric shook his head wearily. “What is the need to hurry? They’re going upriver. Seems to me that it would be hard for us to lose track of that many dragons on a riverbank.”

“If the Rain Wild River were a single river, that might be true,” Thymara said. “But it isn’t. There are tributaries that feed into it. Some are seasonal and shallow, but others are rivers in their own right. There’s no telling which one the dragons will follow.”

Captain Leftrin joined them just as she finished speaking. The riverman was panting from his jog across the mudflats. Thymara had met him only briefly, but she already liked him. He was a man who worked. It showed on his weathered face and capable hands, and even on his worn clothing. He looked at her directly when he spoke to her, and even when he had first met the dragon keepers, he hadn’t flinched at the sight of them. It was too soon for her to say she trusted him, but she doubted that he would deliberately deceive anyone. She valued that. He pulled a bright orange kerchief from his pocket and wiped his sweating face before he spoke. “The girl’s right. That’s been the whole difficulty with this expedition. ‘Upriver’ from Cassarick can take a man in any of a dozen directions. Unfortunately, no more than three or four of them have been charted, and those charts are unreliable. Channels and waters that were navigable by flatboat one year are sanded in the next.”

“But I’ve seen charts of the Rain Wild River. I’ve seen them for sale in the bazaars of Chalced. They’re very expensive and not offered to all, but they exist.”

“Have you?” Leftrin grinned at Sedric and his comment. “I imagine that the same booths will sell you charts to the treasure island of Igrot the Pirate. Or maps of the best harbors in the Spice Islands.” He shook his head. “Cheats and fakes, I’m sorry to say. People know there’s a market for such things, so what they don’t have, they’re willing to create. But don’t feel bad. I’ve seen experienced mariners fooled by them.”

The Bingtown man looked at him. “Then how do we know where we are going?”

Captain Leftrin’s grin widened. “I’d say our best bet is to follow the dragons.”

SEDRIC’S HANDS WERE SWEATING. So far, it had all gone so well. He had inside his case two strips of dragon flesh and hide, with scales attached. One he had pushed into a bottle prepared with vinegar and stoppered it securely. The second piece he had placed in a small wooden box with coarse salt around it and latched the lid tightly. One or the other method, he trusted, would work. Both preservation vessels had been prepared weeks ago, before he had embarked on this journey. Once he had realized that Hest was serious, that he was going to force him to go to the Rain Wilds as Alise’s companion, he had been determined that the journey would provide him with a way to escape a life he had begun to find burdensome. Everyone knew that the desperate Duke of Chalced was willing to pay anyone’s asking price for the ingredients that might cure his maladies and extend his life. Sedric had decided he would be the one to furnish them.



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