Dragon Haven (Rain Wild Chronicles #2)

Dragon Haven (Rain Wild Chronicles #2) Page 89

“There should be words,” Lecter said. “Warken’s mother would want that.”

And so it went, and Thymara watched it unfold and wondered at the strange little community they had become. I am and am not a part of this, she thought as she listened to Leftrin say his simple words and then watched Warken’s body slip over the railing on a plank. She wanted to turn her head away from what would happen next but somehow she could not. She needed to see it, she told herself. Needed to see how the keepers and their dragons had become so intertwined that such an outrageous and macabre request could be seen as reasonable and even inevitable.

Baliper was waiting. The body slid out from under its draping and as it entered the river, the dragon ducked his head and seized it. He lifted Warken, his head and feet dangling out either side of his mouth, and carried him off. The other dragons, she noted, did not follow him, but turned away and half swam, half waded back to the shallows at the edge of the river. Baliper disappeared upriver into the darkness with his keeper’s body. So it was not a simple devouring of meat that humans would otherwise discard. It meant something, not just to Warken’s dragon, but to all of them. It was important enough to them that when Baliper’s demand had been initially refused, they had massed and made it plain that they would not let him be denied.

The other keepers reminded her of the dragons. They dispersed quietly from their places along the railings. No one wept, but it did not mean no one wished to. Seeing Warken dead, really dead, had brought home the reality of Rapskal’s absence. He was gone, and the chances were that if she saw him again he would be like Warken, battered and bloated and still.

The keepers congregated in small groups. Jerd was with Greft, of course. Sylve was with Harrikin and Lecter. Boxter and Kase, the cousins, moved as one as they always did. Nortel trailed after them. And she stood apart from all of them, as she so often seemed to do. The only one who had refused her dragon. The only one who never seemed to know what rules the group had discarded and which ones they kept. Her back ached abominably, she was river scalded and insect bitten, and the loneliness that filled her up from the inside threatened to crack her body. She missed Alise’s company, but now that they were back on the barge and she had her captain’s attention, she probably wouldn’t want to spend time with Thymara.

And she missed Rapskal, with a keenness that shocked her.

“Are you all right?”

She turned, startled to discover Tats standing at her side. “I suppose I am. That was a hard, strange thing, wasn’t it?”

“In some ways, it was the simplest solution. And Lecter had spent a lot of time with Warken; they partnered in the boats most days. So I’m willing to believe that he knew what Warken would have wanted.”

“I’m sure he did,” Thymara replied quietly.

They stood for a time, staring over the river. The dragons had dispersed. Thymara could still feel, like a fire radiating cold, Sintara’s anger with her. She didn’t care. Her skin hurt all over, the injury between her shoulders burned, and she didn’t belong anywhere.

“I can’t even go home.”

Tats didn’t ask what she meant. “None of us can. None of us was ever really at home in Trehaug. This, here, on this barge tonight, this is as close to home as any of us have. Alise and Captain Leftrin and his crew included.”

“But I don’t fit in, even here.”

“You could if you chose to, Thymara. You’re the one keeping a distance.” He moved his hand, not putting it over hers, but setting it on the railing beside hers so that his hand touched hers.

Her first impulse was to move her hand away. By an effort, she didn’t. She wondered both why she had wanted to move it away, and why she hadn’t. She didn’t have an answer to either question, so she asked Tats a question of her own. “Do you know what Greft said to me about you?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “No. But I’m sure it wasn’t flattering. And I hope you recalled that you know me far better than Greft can ever hope to.”

So at least it hadn’t been a male conspiracy to get the lone uncommitted female to make a choice. That made her opinion of her fellow keepers rise slightly. She kept her voice level and noncommittal as if she were speaking about how pleasant the night was. “He came out when I was on watch last night and asked if I’d chosen you. He explained that if I had, I’d best declare it clearly, or let him know at least so that he could enforce my choice with the others. He said, otherwise, there might be a lot of competition. That some of the other keepers might even challenge you or start fights with you.”