‘Maybe it only works when a dragon guides it,’ he suggested hesitantly. ‘Or maybe it would have cured him with time. Or maybe it did cure him, but the gallator venom killed him all the same.’

‘I guess it doesn’t matter now,’ Carson said quietly.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Sorry I didn’t tell the whole truth to you from the beginning.’

‘You didn’t know me,’ Carson conceded. The words were forgiving, but the wall in his voice was still there.

`It’s more than that,’ Sedric said stubbornly, ‘I was treating Alise exactly as I was accusing Leftrin. I was using her to get close to the dragons, so I could harvest what I wanted, for my own ends. But somehow, when I thought about it, they seemed like two different things. I thought I could use her that way and keep it from her, so she’d never be hurt by it. And in my mind, I thought Leftrin would do that to her and just not care.’

He glanced up at Carson. His face was still and closed. ‘I was stupid, Carson. You know that at first I couldn’t even hear the dragons. I thought they were like, well, like clever cows. Why shouldn’t I slaughter one and sell off the meat? We slaughter cows all the time. It was only after I had some of Relpda’s blood that I could begin to hear her. And to understand what she was, what they all were. If I’d known from the start, if I’d understood, I’d have abandoned the plan immediately.’

‘Alise.’

‘What about her?’

‘Did you ever think what would become of her after you took Hest and ran away?’ Carson spoke heavily. His hands, strong, callused, competent, continued the work of tidying up the boat. He shipped the oars neatly, and re-stowed all of Greft’s gear. The little glass bottles remained in an accusing row on the seat.

‘A little bit,’ Sedric conceded. ‘Not much. I thought that perhaps we could make it look like we were lost at sea. Then she’d be Hest’s widow. Part of his money and estate would stay with her, enough for her to live comfortably.’ He sighed and felt ashamed. ‘Once I even imagined that if she were pregnant when I left, it would be best of all for everyone. She’d have a child for company, to be an heir for the Finboks and she’d control his inheritance for him until he came of age.’

Carson had finished every conceivable task in the other boat. He remained crouched in it. His dark eyes under his heavy brow wandered over their surroundings. They were hunter’s eyes, always seeking, always wary. There were still several gallators watching them, but the creatures were keeping their keenest watch on Spit. He had finished eating and was splashily cleaning himself as he watched the other gallators. Evidently not even two gallators and a human had filled his belly. The noises of the silver’s ablutions were the only sounds for a time.

Sedric found himself meeting Carson’s dark stare. The hunter spoke carefully. ‘I know you finally told Alise about you and Hest. Did you ever tell her this part? About coming here to butcher dragons and sell the meat to Chalced?’

‘No. I didn’t.’ By an effort, he didn’t look away. ‘I didn’t have the courage.’

Carson took in a deep breath through his nose and slowly let it out. He gathered the little bottles into his hands, and held them out to Sedric. Sedric received them in his cupped hands. Carson settled himself on the rowing bench, untied the rope that had bound the two boats together, and then took up a paddle. ‘You can’t really begin something new until you’ve finished with the old, Sedric’

He dug the paddle into the water and moved his boat clear of Sedric’s. Spit, sensing they were returning to the barge, made a futile charge at the gallators. They retreated into the sunken roots of the brush where the dragon could not get at them. He gave a roar of frustration and then gave it up to follow Carson’s boat. Sedric watched them go. Neither one looked back at him.

Sedric dropped the little bottles into the bottom of the boat. They floated in the water that he had not bailed out. With his feet, he pushed them aside. Then he settled himself on the seat, took up a paddle and followed Carson. Rain began to fall.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mud and Wings

Towards midmorning, Tarman wedged and could go no farther. Leftrin was not surprised. He’d been expecting it to happen for some time. All of yesterday, Tarman’s feet had been firmly planted on the bed of the slough. A few of the keepers had become seasick from the rocking motion that Tarman’s walk contributed to his movement. As the day had progressed and the water grew ever shallower, Leftrin’s concern had increased. He’d sounded the horn to call all of the small boats back to the barge, and then sent them out again in varying directions, in search of deeper water.

When they’d returned that evening, no one had good tidings to report. No detectible current, and the water seemed uniformly shallow in all directions. A straw dropped into the open water beside the boat did float away, but almost immediately got lost in the beds of standing reeds that had encroached ever closer, even as the bluish foothills remained ever distant against a grey backdrop of thick clouds.

The barge stopped of his own accord. For a time, Leftrin sensed the ship standing and thinking. Tarman groped towards him, perhaps seeking an idea that Leftrin didn’t have. Then, with a very small lurch, Tarman folded his legs and settled in the mud. The barge he had carried on his back floated slightly now. A wave of sadness and resignation flowed up Leftrin’s chest and settled around his heart. They’d come to their stopping place. It wasn’t Kelsingra.

‘Cap?’ This from Swarge at the tiller. It had been weeks since anyone had kept up the illusion that Tarman needed to be poled through the water. Tarman usually appreciated the humans’ efforts to speed him along, but in water this shallow, the poling only threw him off stride.

‘Take a break, Swarge,’ Leftrin confirmed. He made a sound like a low growl in the back of his throat and gripped the bow rail tighter. He more felt than saw Alise coming down the deck to join him. When she reached his side, she halted and put her hands alongside his on the railing. Her eyes swept the scene before them.

There was no channel. Reeds, rushes and those plants that loved swamps surrounded them. The dragons were bright-scaled giants that moved through the wrong landscape. Even yesterday, the dragons had still ostensibly led the way. For most of this morning, they had moved more slowly and uncertainly. No one was comfortable about venturing deeper into this borderless wetland. Yet there was nowhere else to go. Except…