by Hobb, Robin
“I’m taking this!” she heard herself say and was shocked at the greed in her voice. But she had not had a proper hairbrush since hers had been lost months ago. A flat object on the desk looked rather like a book, but when she opened it, it unfolded into three hinged mirror panels. She looked at herself and then could not look away. Was that her? Had Sintara changed her so much?
Gone was the girl who had been “marked by the Rain Wilds.” An Elderling, narrow of face, her features traced in fine blue scales, looked out at her. Her wet hair, sleek and black, revealed fine blue scaling in the parting. She lifted her hand to touch her face, to prove the reflection was her own, and was struck by the deep cobalt of her claws and the tracery of silver, like a vine, that now ran from each fingertip up the back of her hands to her elbows. She was sure it had not been there before the bath.
She was still staring when Rapskal interrupted her. “You’re going to like what’s in here even better. Girl clothes. Elderling stuff, like that gown Alise has. Pretty stuff. Silver and blue and green, your colors. And slippers of the same stuff, only heavier.”
“Let me see!” she demanded.
He turned from the set of shelves behind the narrow door, holding up a shimmering garment of green and blue. Thymara’s heart leaped.
Rapskal was grinning at her. “There’s a lot of them in here. You could share. If they fit anyone.”
She pushed past him, her fingers running over the stacked folds. Silver like the running river, green that was greener than Fente. Blue like Sintara. She was breathless with excitement.
“Hey. Look over your shoulder,” Rapskal commanded her.
She did and found he was holding the unfolded mirror up for her. “How do you like your wings?” he demanded, and then he fell silent at the stunned look on her face. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she felt her lips trembling. She couldn’t speak.
“You don’t like them?” he asked, shocked.
She was even more shocked. “Rapskal. I’m beautiful.”
“Well, I’ve been telling you that!” Now he sounded disgusted that she had doubted him. He wandered back to the desk and set the mirror on it. He glanced at her and then away, as if suddenly uncomfortable with her. Instead he went to the stone bed. “Weird,” he said and sat down on it. Then he gasped and sprang up. “It grabbed me!” he exclaimed.
They both stared at the fading impression of his bottom on the bed. As they watched, it returned to a smooth, blank surface. Cautiously he set his hand to it and pushed down. His hand sank slightly into it. “Looks like stone, but it gets soft when you push on it. And it’s warm.” He sat down and then lay back on it. “Oh, sweet Sa! I’ve never slept on anything like this. Come feel it.”
She pressed it first with a hand, then gingerly sat down. It obligingly shaped itself to her.
“Lie down. You have to feel this,” he told her, moving back to make room for her. She did, and for a moment rested on her back, looking up at the gently glowing ceiling. She sighed suddenly. “It makes room for my wings. It has been so long since I’ve been able to lie flat on my back. And it’s warm.”
“Let’s sleep here.”
She rolled her head to look at him. His face was very close, his breath brushing her lips. The warm water of the dragon bath had brought out his colors as well, she thought. Gleaming scarlet Rapskal. He was beautiful. And so was she. It was the first time in her life that she had felt beautiful. His eyes were on her face, and she could suddenly believe what she saw in them. It was heady to know she was attractive, to see that mirrored in his eyes. Intoxicating like nothing else she had ever felt. She tried her smile on him. His eyes widened and she heard him swallow.
She met his mouth and accepted his deep kiss. It was both familiar and strange. He shifted closer. “I just want you,” he said softly. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, even when I was too stupid to know what I wanted. Just you, Thymara. Please.”
She didn’t answer with words, didn’t even let herself think about an answer. She opened her mouth to his kiss and did not flinch from his exploring hands. She took his weight, and the Elderling bed cradled them both and returned their warmth. A moment came when she expected pain, but there was only sweet pleasure. I was ready, she thought, and then thought no more about anything.
“I just want to leave here.”
Water was still running down his face, and he had scarcely caught his breath from running back to the ship. Reyn had been the first to reach the Tarman; he supposed it was luck that Hennesey had found him first and told him that Malta and the baby were safe aboard the liveship. The mate had told Reyn to get to her, that he would find Captain Leftrin and Skelly. His sister Tillamon was out there, too, hurrying along with Skelly, looking in all the places that Malta might have gone to ask for help. He looked at his wife, wrapped in a rough ship’s blanket, standing by the galley stove, and blinked rain from his lashes, trying to comprehend what was going on. At last, he found a question. “Where’s the baby? Hennesey said you had the baby.”
Malta stared at him, and if it were possible, her face went paler. It made the scaling stand out more sharply. She looked as if she were carved of ivory and embellished with jewels. “On the foredeck,” she said quietly. “Tarman needed him to be there. So he could help him. I was so hungry and thirsty that I came to the galley. I wanted to bring the baby with me, but the ship said no. He needs to be where he is.” She paused, biting her lip. Then she added hoarsely, “But Tarman says that there is only so much he can do, that if we want him to live, we need to find a dragon that will help him. And Reyn, I killed someone tonight, a Chalcedean.” She said the words and then met his gaze, and his disbelief that she could do such a thing was mirrored in her eyes. Her forehead furrowed as she added, “I think he was the spy who was trying to have the dragons killed and the parts sent back to Chalced for medicine. But there’s another one and he’s still out there. Reyn, he was going to kill me and the baby and chop us up and take our body parts back to Chalced. To try to pass our flesh off as dragon flesh. To make medicine to cure the Duke of Chalced.”
He stared at her. “Sit down, dear. Drink your tea. None of what you just said makes any sense. But before you try to talk about it, I want to see our child.”
“Of course. Bellin is with him. I only left him for a moment, to clean myself and have something hot to eat.” She looked down at her scrubbed hands and then up at him. “I wouldn’t abandon him. You know that.”
“I never thought you would. Darling, you are not making sense. I don’t think you’re all right, but before we talk about that, I’m going to see our baby. You rest and I’ll be right back.”
“No, I’m coming with you. This way.” She lifted her mug from the table and walked slowly.
He followed her numbly, back out into the rain and along the side of the deckhouse, moving forward through wind and dark. Tarman was not like any other liveship that Reyn had been aboard. He had no figurehead, no mouth with which to speak. Nonetheless, Reyn could sense his presence plainly, even before he had stepped aboard the wizardwood ship. Awareness permeated the liveship. There was a dim glow from the foredeck, where a canvas shelter had been rigged. Reyn ducked under the hanging flap and saw a large woman sitting beside a hooded lantern and a very small baby on the wooden deck beside her. He stared wordlessly.
Malta clutched his arm tightly and held him. “I know,” she said breathlessly. “He doesn’t look as we thought he would. He’s marked, I know. Just as the midwife warned me. Just as everyone feared he would be. But he’s alive, Reyn, and he’s ours . . .” Her voice broke on the final words she uttered. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”
“I’m amazed.” He sank slowly to his knees and put out a shaking hand. He glanced up at her over his shoulder. “Can I touch him? Can I pick him up?”
“Touch him,” Malta urged him, sinking down beside him. The large woman was moving out of their way, slowly and carefully. She ducked out from under the canvas shelter, leaving them
alone. She hadn’t spoken a word. He set his hand to his son’s chest. His hand spanned it. The baby moved, turning his face toward Reyn, looking at him with deep blue eyes.
“But don’t pick him up,” Malta warned him.
“I won’t drop him!” He had to smile at her worry.
“That’s not it,” she said quietly. “He needs to stay close to Tarman. Tarman’s helping him breathe. And helping his heart beat.”
“What?” Reyn felt as if his own breath faltered, as if his own heart paused in his chest. “Why? What is wrong?”
Her slender hand joined his on their son’s chest, closing the circle that the three now made. “Reyn. Our son is touched by the Rain Wilds. Heavily touched. That is what it means, why so many women sent their children away from them, before their hearts are too bonded. He fights to live. His body has been changed. He is not human and he is not Elderling. He falls between, and things are not right inside him. Or so Tarman says. He says that he can keep our baby alive, but that for him to change as he must change to survive, it will take a dragon. There is something special that a dragon can do, similar to how Tintaglia changed us. Something that will make his body work for him.”
There was a heavy tread on the deck behind him and the flap of the canvas was lifted abruptly. “My ship speaks to you?” Leftrin demanded. He sounded affronted.
Malta looked up at him without rising. “It was necessary,” she said. “I did not know what my baby needed. He had to tell me.”
“Well, it might be good if someone tells me exactly what’s going on on board my own vessel!”
“And I could do that, sir.” It was the woman, Bellin, ducking under the canvas to join them. It was becoming crowded in the makeshift shelter. She seemed to sense Reyn’s need to be alone with his wife and child, or perhaps she wanted her own privacy to speak with the captain. “Let’s go back to the deckhouse and I’ll tell you why the baby is here. Has Skelly come back?”
“I ran into her as I was trying to wake a lift tender. Hennesey found them and sent her to let me know. He’s bringing Tillamon. Reyn’s sister. She was helping us search for Malta.”
“All’s well then. Come. I’ll put on more coffee and tell you as much as I know.”
Leftrin teetered on the edge of the decision for a moment. Perhaps the plea in Reyn’s eyes decided him. “I’ll do that,” he said abruptly and ducked out under the canvas.
The moment he left, Malta eased herself closer to her baby, curling herself around him. Without hesitation, Reyn mirrored her so that their son was framed by the arcs of their bodies. He put his head close to Malta’s, breathed the scent of her hair and the sweet knowledge that she and their child were safe with him. “Tell me,” he requested softly. “Tell me everything that happened after I left you.”
Day the 26th of the Change Moon
Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
To Trader Finbok
From Kim, Keeper of the Birds, Cassarick
You will be the first in all Bingtown to receive these tidings. Captain Leftrin and the liveship Tarman have returned from their journey up the river. In a meeting at the Traders’ Hall tonight, he revealed that the expedition has rediscovered Kelsingra, but he has so far refused to say much more than that. He challenges the right of the Cassarick Traders’ Council to see his charts and notes, claiming that such knowledge belongs to him and to the dragon keepers who went with him. He asserts that a careful reading of the contracts will prove this is so.
The gossip is that perhaps he has killed all the others and will claim Kelsingra as his alone. Captain Leftrin asserts that almost the entire expedition has survived and is well and in a place where the dragons are comfortably settled. Of your son’s wife, he says that she chose to stay where she was. He also makes accusations against one of the hunters who traveled with him, saying he was a treacherous spy for Chalced and saying also that perhaps there is corruption in the Cassarick Traders’ Council, for they were the ones to hire the man.
Do you now see the value of private birds? This information will reach you days before others know what is happening here. I trust you also see the value of having a friend among the bird keepers and that my payment will reflect that gratitude.
Kim
Chapter Twelve
ILLUMINATION
“Who could that be at this time of night?” Carson wondered aloud as he rolled from the bed.
“And what sort of trouble?” Sedric muttered. He’d just been on the verge of falling asleep. He watched Carson drag on his trousers and then walk the short distance to the door. He pulled the blankets closer to try to make up for the warmth the big man had taken with him.
“Tats?” he heard Carson ask in consternation, and the boy’s muttered response.
“Can I come in? Please?” The boy spoke his request more clearly, and Carson stepped back from the door to let him enter. He shut the door behind him, and then crossed the fire and tossed a log onto it. Sparks flew up and a few flames woke.
“Well, sit down,” Carson suggested to Tats and took his own suggestion, taking a seat on one of the benches he’d built. Tats shook rain from his hair and then took his place on the other one. “Is something wrong? Sick dragon?” Carson asked when Tats didn’t speak.
“Nothing like that,” Tats admitted in a low voice. He glanced at the fire and then away into the darkness. “Thymara and Rapskal didn’t come back from the city. They flew off on Heeby in early afternoon. He said he wanted to show her something there. I thought they’d be back before night. Everyone knows Heeby doesn’t like flying in the dark. But it’s been dark for hours and there’s no sign of them.”
Carson was quiet for a short time, watching the tongues of flame lick up the side of the log and then begin to devour it. “And you’re worried that something bad happened?”
Tats took a deep breath and then sighed it out. “Not exactly. My dragon, Fente, she got all excited for a bit and said that Sintara was in the water. Drowning, maybe. Fente didn’t seem exactly heartbroken about it. So I went to Mercor, because he’s, well, more steady. Less jealous and vindictive than my Fente. And more likely to talk straight about things. He put up his head and acted like he was listening and then said, no, as far as he could tell, she was fine. That she had been in the water and distressed but seemed fine now and he thought she was in Kelsingra. Well, we all know she can’t fly, so I went looking for Sintara. She’s gone.” He looked down at his hands. “I think maybe Sintara is on the other side of the river. In the city. And that Rapskal, Heeby, and Thymara are there, too.”
Sedric sat up, cloaking the blankets around him. The boy sounded miserable.
Carson spoke judiciously. “I’ve seen tracks in the meadow first thing in the morning. At least one of the dragons has been trying to fly. Makes sense that it was Sintara, and that she finally made it over there. That might be why Thymara stayed. But with weather this nasty, maybe it was raining too hard and they decided to wait it out there. They’re probably fine, Tats. If something had happened to Thymara, Rapskal would have been frantic and come back here. And if something bad had happened to Rapskal, Heeby would be trumpeting up a storm. And if Heeby and both of them were in trouble, then I think all the dragons would know. Sintara would certainly know if Thymara was injured or in danger. And despite how difficult she can be, I think she’d spread the word if we needed to worry.”
Tats looked down at his feet. “I guess I know that,” he said softly.
“So,” the big man’s voice was considering. “Sintara made it across the river. That’s quite a flight.” He turned to smile at Sedric. “I wish I knew what finally motivated her. I’d try it on Spit.” He turned his grin back on Tats but got no response from him.
Silence again, save for the scatter of rain outside and the soft crackling of the awakened hearth fire. Tats shifted on his bench. “I guess I’m not worried that they’re hurt. I’m worried that they’re together.” He hunched his shoulders more tightly, as if that wou
ld ward off his pain.
Sedric watched him in sudden understanding. He knew the pangs of jealousy when he saw them.
The bench creaked as Carson shifted his weight. He was in profile to Sedric, and the light of the fire lit the consternation on his face. “Well. Nothing you can do about it if they are, son. Things like that happen.”
“I know that.” Tats had locked his hands together. He trapped them between his knees, rocked slightly, and then suddenly said, “I made a mess of things with her. I thought everything was going well and then suddenly it wasn’t. She was so angry that I’d slept with Jerd. And I didn’t get it, because when Jerd and I were together, Thymara didn’t even seem interested in me. She was just being my friend, like always. So why was she so angry about it?
“Well. Now I guess I understand it better.”
Carson leaned down and used a piece of kindling to poke the log deeper into the hearth. “It’s a hard way to learn, but I think that’s how most of us learn about jealousy. It seems like a stupid way for anyone to feel, until someone makes you feel it.”
“Yes.” Tats was animated now and perhaps angry. “And I can’t stand thinking about them together, and I can’t stop thinking about it. How can she do that to me? I mean, couldn’t she have told me about it, warned me, or given me a chance to do better before she chose him, or, or something?”
Carson glanced over at Sedric and then back at the boy. “Sometimes things aren’t all that planned. They just happen. And, well, you’re talking as if her being with him, if she is with him, is something that she’s doing to you. Now I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but chances are that you didn’t figure at all in her decision. When you decided to be with Jerd, did you stop to wonder what Thymara would think of it? Or Rapskal or Warken? Or anyone?”