Rain Wilds Chronicles

by Robin Hobb

  Jerd struggled for a moment and then asked quietly, “Would you ask him, then? I didn’t think to ask the other dragons. It just seemed to me that I should know if she is alive or dead. I should be able to feel it, without help.”

  “Are you that close to Veras?” Thymara asked and tried not to let envy creep into her voice.

  “I thought I was,” Jerd said quietly. “I thought I was.”

  ALISE LOOKED AROUND the circle of dragon keepers. In her hands, she held two broad, thick leaves topped with a piece of partially cooked fish. A mushroom and a tangle of shaggy greenery topped the fish. She balanced a fruit that Thymara had called a “sour pear” on her leg. They’d given her the same share that any other keeper had received. She’d slept alongside them and now ate with them, but she knew that, despite her efforts, she was not one of them. Thymara did not make as much of their differences as the others did, but the girl still deferred to her in a way that kept her at a distance. She felt that Greft resented her, but if she’d had to say why, the only reason she would come up with was that she was not of the Rain Wilds. It made her feel desperately alone.

  And being so useless did not make it any easier.

  She envied how quickly the others seemed to have adapted and then reacted to their situation. They shifted their lives and responded to recover from the disaster so quickly that she felt both old and inflexible in comparison. And they spoke so little of their losses. Jerd wept, but she did not endlessly rant. The calm the keepers showed seemed almost unnatural. She wondered if it was the response of people who had grown up with near disaster at every turn. Quakes were not a rarity to them, any more than they were to the people of Bingtown. But all knew that in the Rain Wilds, quakes were more dangerous. So many of the Rain Wilders worked underground, salvaging Elderling artifacts as they unearthed the buried halls and chambers of the ancient cities. Cave-ins and collapses were sometimes triggered by quakes; had the keepers been inured to loss from an early age?

  She wished they had been less reticent. She wanted to howl at the moon, to shake and rant, to weep hopelessly and fall apart. She longed to talk about the Tarman and Captain Leftrin, to ask if they thought the ship had survived, to ask if they expected the captain to come searching. As if talking about rescue could make it a reality! It would have been strangely comforting to discuss it all, over and over. Yet in the face of all these youngsters simply dealing with this disaster, how could she?

  She picked the steaming fish apart with her fingers and ate it with bites of the mushroom and strands of the onion-moss. It did, indeed, have the flavor of onions. When she finished, she ate the “plate” it had been served on. The bread leaf was untrue to its name; there was nothing of “bread” about it. It was thick and starchy and crisp, but to her palate, unmistakably vegetable. When she finished it, she was still hungry. The sour pear at least helped her with her thirst. Despite its wrinkled skin, the fruit was juicy. She ate it right down to its core and only wished there was more.

  Yet with every bite, her thoughts were elsewhere. Was Leftrin all right? Had the Tarman weathered the wave? Poor Sedric would be frantic with worry about her. Were they looking for them right now? She wanted to believe that, wanted to believe it so desperately that she realized she hadn’t been exerting herself to better their situation. Captain Leftrin and the Tarman would come to rescue them. Ever since Sintara had plucked her out of the water, she’d believed that.

  “When the water goes down, do you think there will be solid land here?” she asked Thymara.

  Thymara swallowed her food and considered the question. “The water is going down, but we won’t know about land until it goes all the way down. Even if there is land, it will be mud for some time. Floods come up quickly in the Rain Wilds, and go away slowly, because the earth is already saturated with water. We won’t be able to walk on it, if that is what you are thinking. Not for any great distance.”

  “So. What are we going to do?”

  “For now? For now, those of us who can forage or hunt will. The others will do what they can to make things more comfortable here. And when the water goes down, well, then we’ll see what else is to be done.”

  “Will the dragons want to continue our journey?”

  “I don’t think they’ll want to stay here,” Tats said. Alise realized he was not the only one listening in on their conversation. Most of the keepers within earshot were focused on his words. “There’s nothing for them here. They’ll want to move on, if they can. With us or without us.”

  “Can they survive without us?” The question came from Boxter.

  “Not easily, not well. But they’ve mostly led the way, and mostly found the resting places each night. They’ve learned to hunt a bit. They’re stronger and tougher now than when we started. It wouldn’t be easy, but none of this journey has been easy for them. I don’t say they’d choose to go on without us.”

  Tats paused. Alise waited, but Thymara was the one to continue his thought. “But if we cannot go on with them, if we have no way to accompany them, then they’ll really have no choice. Food will run short here for them. They’ll have to leave us.”

  “Couldn’t they carry us?” Alise asked. “Sintara rescued Thymara and me and carried both of us to safety. It wasn’t easy for her to swim with us. But if they were wading through the shallows as they usually do…”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Greft decided.

  “It would compromise their dignity too much,” Thymara said quietly. “Sintara saved us. But to her, that is different from acting as a beast of burden and carrying us along.”

  “Mercor might carry me,” Sylve injected. “But he has a different nature from the others. He is kinder to me than most of the dragons are to their keepers. Sometimes I feel like he is the eldest of them, even though I know he came out of his case on the same day.”

  “Perhaps because he remembers more,” Alise dared to suggest. “He seems very wise to me.”

  “Perhaps,” Sylve agreed and for the first time shared a shy smile.

  “If the dragons go on without us, what becomes of us?” Nortel asked suddenly. He had moved closer to Thymara. He seemed focused on the discussion, but his proximity still made her uncomfortable.

  “We survive as best we can,” Tats said. “Right here. Or in whatever place we can find.”

  “It would not be so different from how Trehaug was founded,” Greft pointed out. “The original population of the Rain Wilds were forcibly marooned here by the ships that were supposed to help them find a good spot to start a colony. Of course, there were more of them, but still, it’s similar.”

  “Wouldn’t you try to return to Trehaug?” Alise asked. “You have three boats.” To her, it seemed the obvious course of action, if the dragons abandoned them. It would be an arduous trek, either slogging through mud and swamp or traveling through the trees, but at least safety beckoned at the end.

  “I wouldn’t,” Greft said quietly. “Not even if we had enough boats to carry us all and paddles to steer them.”

  “Nor I,” Jerd echoed him. After a moment, with a small catch in her throat, she added, “I couldn’t.”

  Alise watched as Greft took her hand. Jerd turned her head away from him and looked out across the water. Alise noticed unwillingly that some of the keepers openly spied on the two while others looked away. Plainly they were a couple, and it was equally plain that this bothered some of the keepers. Thymara watched them, her eyes hooded and her thoughts private.

  “That’s a decision that’s a long ways from now,” Tats declared. “I’m more concerned about what we’re going to do today and tonight.”

  “I’m going foraging,” Thymara said quietly. “It’s what I’m good at.”

  “I’ll go with you, to help carry,” Tats declared. Across the circle, several of the young men glanced at him and then away. Nortel looked down, glowering. Boxter looked thoughtful. Greft opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. Then he said, “A good plan,” but
Alise was certain that was not what he had originally planned to say.

  “Is there any way that we can have a fire tonight?” Sylve asked. “The smoke might keep off some of the insects, and the fire might be a beacon if anyone is trying to find us.”

  “I could help with that,” Alise declared instantly. “We could construct a little raft, like the sleeping raft, only smaller, and put the fire on that, so there’d be no chance of it spreading to where we’re sleeping. We could tether it with some of these creepers.” She leaned over and picked up one of the bread leaf vines, now stripped of food. “We’d need more, of course.”

  “We’ll bring back more vines,” Tats volunteered.

  “Harrikin and I can dive for mud. If we can find a way to bring it up, we’ll plaster mud on the fire platform, and it will last longer,” Lecter said.

  “But the water’s so acid!” Alise objected, thinking of their eyes. Both of the youths were so scaled she didn’t think their skin would take much harm.

  “It’s not so bad.” Lecter shrugged his spiny shoulders. “Acid level is going down all the time. Sometimes it’s like that after a quake. Big gush of acid water, then back to almost normal.”

  Almost normal was still enough to scald Alise’s skin, but she nodded. “Build a platform, plaster it with mud, gather the driest wood we can find, and braid a good tether so it doesn’t get away from us. That’s a lot to get done before nightfall.”

  “It’s not like we have an alternative,” Boxter observed.

  “Thymara. Do you want help with your gathering?” Nortel threw the question out almost as a challenge.

  “If I need any, I have Tats,” the girl replied.

  “I can climb better than him,” Nortel asserted.

  “You only think so,” Tats responded instantly. “I can give her any help she needs.”

  Thymara glanced from Tats to Nortel and her face darkened. For a moment, her scales seemed to stand out more vividly. Then she said flatly, “The truth is, I don’t think I’ll need help from either of you. But Tats can come with me if he wishes. I’m leaving now, while the light is good.”

  She stood as she spoke, flowing effortlessly to her feet, and strode off toward the forest without looking back. To Alise, she seemed almost to dance across the floating logs between her and the closest tree trunks. Once she reached one, she went up as quickly as a lizard. Tats followed her, and it seemed to Alise that he struggled hard to match her speed as his human hands found grips on the rough bark of the tree.

  As Nortel rose, Greft spoke. “Nortel, we could use you here, to help put the fire raft together.”

  Nortel froze. He said flatly, “I intend to go foraging for food.”

  “See that food is all you forage for. We are a small group, Nortel. We cannot quarrel among ourselves.”

  “Tell that to Tats,” he said and then walked away. He chose a different tree trunk for his ascent, but Alise suddenly feared for Thymara and wished she could go after them. Something had changed in the group, and she wasn’t sure what it was. She glanced at Greft, but he did not meet her eyes. Instead he said, “Today is clear and tonight probably will be as well. But there is no telling what weather tomorrow may bring. We’re uncomfortable enough without being wet. Let’s see if we can make a shelter.”

  Alise felt as if she had been plunged into the intimate affairs of an extended family she didn’t know well. There were currents here she hadn’t suspected, and she abruptly wondered what her status was as an intruder. Thymara was the only one she felt she knew at all. She glanced at Sylve; the girl had at least smiled at her. As if she felt the older woman’s eyes, Sylve turned to her and said quietly, “Let’s go build our fire platform.”

  “TELL HER TO extend her head toward me!” Jess barked at him. He was perched at the end of the log, holding his makeshift noose open. “I can’t get this around her neck if she doesn’t reach her head toward me.”

  The log Sedric was standing on shifted slightly under him, and he felt a moment of vertigo. He looked up at the noose and tried to make a firm decision. Abruptly, he gave his head a shake, snapping himself out of that peculiar drifting state the dragon could put him in. Just end it. She’d be dead, he’d have his mind to himself and a fortune in his pocket. He could have Hest. If he still wanted him after all this.

  That last thought shocked him. Of course he wanted Hest. He’d always wanted Hest, hadn’t he? Wasn’t Hest and the love he felt for him what all this was about? He cleared his throat. The love he’d felt…

  “Relpda.”

  She swung her swirling gaze to him.

  Jess shook the noose out larger. Sedric could see his intent now. Noose her, snub the line off, and kill her. It wasn’t going to be pretty or easy. Before she died, she would know he had betrayed her. He’d feel the pain of that, her anger and reproach, right alongside the pain of her death. She’d saved his life. And his thanks to her was that he was going to profit from her death.

  The price was too high. Hest wasn’t worth it.

  The shock of that realization jolted him; no time to dwell on it.

  He reached toward the dragon, mind and heart. Relpda, get away from Jess. Don’t let him get near you. He wants to kill you! He dared not speak aloud to her.

  Kill? Alarm. And confusion. She hadn’t understood. The exhausted dragon clung to the log and stared up at her executioner. Her eyes spun faster suddenly, but she made no move to get away. It was too much for her, he’d tried to put too much information in the thoughts he sent her. Keep it simple. And have some courage!

  “Relpda, get away! Flee! Don’t let him near you. Danger. Danger from him!”

  Danger? Hunter bring food. Run away? Too tired.

  He’d tipped his hand to the hunter, and it still wasn’t going to be enough to save her. Jess’s teeth showed in a snarl as he turned toward Sedric. “You damn little fop! I was going to make it quick for her. Well, you’ve spoiled that and now you’ll both pay.”

  The hunter was quick. He dropped the noose and shifted his grip to the fish spear. It was a small weapon; it couldn’t possibly hurt her. Please, Sa! “Relpda, get away! Go now!”

  Sedric was already in motion, but he knew he’d never get there in time. He grabbed a stick floating in the water and flung it at Jess. Not even close. The hunter laughed aloud, then drew back the spear and plunged it into the dragon.

  A blast of pain shot through Sedric. It stabbed him in the top of his shoulder, and his left arm suddenly went numb. He stumbled and went down, one of his legs slipping between the floating pieces of wood. His frantic snatch at a log kept him from going under completely. He bit his tongue, and strangely the one pain drove the other way. The log bucked, but he got a leg over it and struggled up from the water, looking around wildly. Everything was happening too fast.

  Relpda trumpeted shrilly. The fish spear stuck out of her, and brilliant scarlet blood was sheeting over her scaled shoulder. Her wings were half open and she flapped them, splashing feebly as she struggled to keep her sliding grip on the log. The hunter was in the water. One of her flailing wings must have hit him and knocked him in. Good. But he had already caught hold of a log and was starting to drag himself up. In another moment he’d be on the raft with them. Sedric knew he couldn’t fight him. The man was too big, too strong, too experienced. Weapon, weapon! The hatchet! The hatchet by the boat.

  Sedric danced across the wildly rocking wood in a frantic race for the boat. If he had not been terrified, he would have crossed the debris raft on his hands and knees. But faced with imminent death, he leaped and dashed like a scalded cat, traversing logs that bobbed and tried to roll, leaping wildly from one to the next. Jess seemed instantly to divine Sedric’s intention. He hauled himself up, cursing and spitting, and hurled himself in furious leaps across the packed driftwood. Twice the hunter went down between logs and hauled himself up again, and still he managed to stand suddenly between Sedric and the small boat, a knife held blade out and low in his dripping right hand. Water
streamed from his hair and down the sides of his scaled face as he promised Sedric, “I’m going to cut you and string your guts across this driftwood pack and leave you to die here.”

  I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me. I just want to live. I couldn’t let you kill her. His mind flipped through a hundred things to say and discarded them all as useless.

  Flee! Flee! the copper trumpeted at him. It seemed an excellent idea and perfectly aligned with Sedric’s own impulse, but he dared not turn his back on the man. If he was going to die, it wasn’t going to be with a knife in his back. He heard an immense splash as Relpda lost her precarious perch on the log and went under. Cold, wet, dark, no air. For that instant, Sedric froze.

  Jess dived at him, knife leading the way, and it was the man’s spring forward on the floating log that propelled Sedric’s sudden sideways lurch. The knife, hand, and man went past him, not meeting the expected resistance. It was the impulse of a moment to put his hand on Jess’s back and shove as the hunter plunged past him. The hunter stepped off the log, onto the floating mat of driftwood. For a moment the tangled morass of weeds and wood held him up and then he dropped down through it with a furious shout. He flung his arms wide and splayed them out on the floating branches, twigs, and moss clumps. Somehow he stayed above water, cursing at Sedric, unable to clamber out.

  In two steps, Sedric was in the boat. He’d thought it would feel solid under him. Instead, as he jumped into it, it lurched and bucked. He fell, knees down, onto the thwarts, catching his ribs painfully. Safe. Safe in the boat. Where was the hatchet? And where was Relpda? “Dragon, where are you?” he shouted. He stood up on his knees, looking all around. To his horror, he could not feel her. And Jess had vanished, too. Was he drowning under the mat? It was hard to feel sorry for him.

  Suddenly, like a vengeful water spirit, Jess shot up and out of the water right next to the small boat. He caught hold of the side. As he dragged himself up, the boat heeled over and Sedric cried out in terror that he’d be spilled into the stinging water again. Instead, the big wet man levered himself into the boat. Sedric immediately tried to abandon the small ship, but Jess tackled him around the legs. He fell hard, slamming his ribs and belly against the edge of the boat and the driftwood log it was tied to. The hunter grabbed him by the back of his shirt and his hair, jerked him back into the boat, and hit him, hard, in the face.