The Dragon Keeper (Rain Wild Chronicles #1)

The Dragon Keeper (Rain Wild Chronicles #1) Page 79

Only two of the committee seemed able to meet her gaze. The others looked aside, or past her, or down at the papers on the long table before them. Of the two who could look at her, one was Trader Mojoin, the head of the committee. He looked her up and down in a way that plainly said what he thought of her before he asked her bluntly, “How is it that you were not exposed at birth?”

She had not expected such a bald question. For a moment, she stood dumbly before him. If she spoke the truth, how much trouble would she bring down on her family? Her father had broken all the rules when he secretly followed the midwife and brought his infant back home instead of leaving her exposed for the animals and weather to finish. She took a breath and hedged. “My defects manifested as I grew. They were not completely obvious at my birth.”

Trader Mojoin gave a brief snort of disbelief. One of the other Traders shifted in embarrassment for her. “Do you understand the terms of your employment?” Mojoin asked her bluntly. “Does your family accept that after you leave with the dragons, we will not guarantee your safety or even your return?”

She was surprised at how calm her voice was when she replied. “My parents both signed the papers before you. They understand, and more important, I understand. I am of age to make this commitment.” As Mojoin gave a curt nod and leaned back in his seat, she added, “But I would like to know more clearly exactly what my tasks are, and what our final mission is.”

He scowled. “Didn’t you read the contract you were given, girl? The offer states it plainly. The dragons have requested that humans accompany them up the river to their new home. You’ll be assigned a dragon or dragons. You’ll assist in moving the dragons upriver to a location more suitable for them, in ways the dragons may request or as you are assigned. You will help provide for your dragon or dragons by hunting or fishing. And you will remain at the dragons’ new location until they have established themselves there and are self-sufficient or otherwise no longer need you.”

She spoke her next words coolly. “So if my dragon or dragons die, I’m free to return home.”

Mojoin sat up straight. “That isn’t the sort of attitude we’re looking for! We expect you to do all in your power to uphold the contract the Traders signed with the dragon Tintaglia. Your task is to help your dragon or dragons find a better area in which to live, and to become more self-sufficient.” He shifted slightly in his seat and added, almost reluctantly, “It’s no secret that we are hoping the dragons can lead you to this Elderling city they claim to recall. Kelsingra.”

She bit back other words and questions to ask, “Is there a specific location that we are journeying toward? Has anyone scouted it out, so that we might know how long we should expect to travel?”

Mojoin’s mouth worked as if he’d tasted something foul and wished he could spit it out. When he spoke, his words were evasive. “The dragons themselves seem to have some inherited memories of where it might be. They will be your best guides in finding an appropriate place where they can establish themselves. While the ancient city may be your eventual destination, it’s entirely possible that you will discover a different area better suited to the dragons.”

“I see,” she responded curtly. And she did. Her father had been right. This was not an emigration, but an exile. A banishment of both the annoying dragons and an assortment of misfits from the population.

“You see? Excellent!” Trader Mojoin’s response was instant and relieved. “Then we are in accord.” He picked up a seal from the table beside him and stamped the papers. “Once you sign, you are officially hired. When you leave this chamber, you will be given your supply pack and taken down to meet the dragons. You will receive half your wages in advance. You should make your farewells to your family quickly, for you depart as soon as is possible.” He pushed a paper across the table to her. “Can you write? Can you sign this?”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer. She took up the waiting pen and wrote her name carefully. Then she stood up straight. “That’s all, then? You’re finished with me?”

“That we are,” one of the other men said in a soft voice. Someone else made a noise that might have been an uncomfortable chuckle. She pretended not to notice but inclined her head and stepped forward to receive her stamped copy of the agreement. She was surprised to find that her hands were shaking. It took her a moment to master turning the heavy knob on the large wooden door of the chamber, and then she pushed it too hard and nearly fell out into the antechamber. She caught her balance and then completed her humiliation by shutting the door so firmly that it slammed. The other applicants awaiting their turns looked at her with mild surprise and some disapproval.