Dragon Haven (26 page)

Abandoning all pretense, he left the top of the deckhouse and descended quickly to the deck. He stood by the railing and waited for her, grinning stupidly. When the small boat was alongside and she looked up at him with her eyes so gray in her poor water-scalded face, his heart ached for her. “Oh, Alise!” No other words came to him. Her red hair was a tangled tumble down her back. She still wore the copper gown he had sheathed her in. Thank Sa for Elderling artifacts. He leaned over the railing, and as soon as he could, he put his hands lightly on her wrists as she climbed up the ladder.

And when he helped her over the railing and onto the deck, he didn’t let her go. He folded her in his arms and held her gently against him, mindful of how sore her skin must be but also knowing, “I’m never, ever going to let you get that far away from me again, Alise. Sa be praised that you’re here and safe. I’m not letting you go again. I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Captain Leftrin,” she said softly. She leaned her brow against the side of his jaw. Was it an accident? Did he imagine the quick brush of her lips against his throat? A shiver, a flush of heat, ran
over him and he stood perfectly still, as if a rare bird had deigned to alight on his shoulder. She pulled herself slightly back from him and looked up into his eyes. “It’s so good to be safe with you,” she said. “I knew you’d come for us. I knew it.”

Could she ever have said a more touching thing to him? He was so pleased by her words that he felt both foolish and extremely manly at the same time. He grinned fiercely and held her closer for a moment. Then, before she could request to be released, he set her free. Never did he want her to feel trapped by him.

Her next words brought him firmly back to earth. “Do we know what befell Sedric? Was he lost overboard during the wave?”

“I am so sorry, Alise. I don’t know. I thought he was in his cabin. I’d gone ashore to…check on things. I was there when the first wave hit.” He had to think fast now. No one knew he’d gone to meet Jess. No one connected him to the hunter at all. In his heart, he knew he’d killed the man. He’d given him a bad enough beating that he could not possibly have survived his time in the water. He’d killed him, and he couldn’t regret doing it. That didn’t mean he wanted to let anyone else know that he’d done it. It was his secret, and he’d take it to the grave with him. “It was sheer luck that the
Tarman
found me in the dark and took me aboard.” Another lie. Didn’t he owe her better than this? He plowed ahead with his tale. “Sedric might have been on deck and got washed overboard when the water hit. Or he might have been ashore. All I know is that when I went looking for him, he wasn’t here. And neither were you.”

“And it’s my fault, for dragging him into this.” She spoke the words quietly but firmly, as if it were a fault she had to confess.

“I don’t see how that’s true,” he offered her.

“I do.”

The depth of guilt in her voice unnerved him. “Now, Alise, I don’t think there’s any future in following that thought. We’ve been looking for him, and we’re going to continue looking for him. We’re not giving up. As soon as we’ve settled what we’re
doing with the dragons, we’ll make our plans to continue the search. We found you, didn’t we? We’ll find Sedric, too.”

“Captain?” It was Davvie.

“What is it, lad?”

“Everyone coming on board is really thirsty and hungry. How much food and water do I let them have?”

The ugly reality of that question reminded him that he was a captain as well as a man. He gave Alise a final apologetic look and turned aside from her, saying, “I have to deal with the survivors right now. But we’re going to keep looking for Sedric. I promise.”

S
HE NOTICED HE
didn’t promise to find Sedric. He couldn’t. Her relief at being found, her joy at seeing Leftrin and knowing he was safe, had passed in a matter of heartbeats. Any joy, any relief seemed selfish to her just now as she wondered where Sedric was and what sort of condition he was in. Dead? Dying as he clung to a log somewhere? Alive and helpless somewhere on the river? He wouldn’t know how to take care of himself, not in this sort of situation. For an instant, she saw him beside her, dapper and clever, smiling and kind. Her friend. Her friend whom she had dragged away from all he enjoyed and held dear, and brought to this savage place. And it had destroyed him.

She made her way to her cabin and was grateful to close the door behind her. Soon enough, she’d have to deal with everyone again. For now, she needed a few moments to find herself. Habit made her strip off her clothing. The long Elderling gown still looked perfectly intact. She gave it an experimental shake. A fine shower of dust fell from it; no mud clung to it, no snag or tear showed in the fabric. She dragged it over her hands and it flowed like a molten fall of copper. Such a marvel! A gift far too rich for a married woman to accept from a man not her husband. The thought ambushed her, and she thrust it ruthlessly aside.

The gown had swiftly dried once she was out of the river and
had kept her warm during those rough nights. And somehow, where it had touched her body, the scalding from the river was far less. Suddenly self-conscious, she raised her hands to her face and then touched her wild hair. Her skin felt rough and dry, her hair like a bundle of straw. In the dimness, she looked at her hands. The skin was reddened, her nails snagged and rough. She felt a double shame, not just that she looked so awful but that she could care about how she looked at such a time.

Feeling shallow, she nonetheless found scented lotion for her hands and soothed her face with it. She dressed in some of her now well-worn clothing and then spent time working at the snarls and tangles in her hair. Then a fresh wave of despair struck her. She had successfully lost herself in the tiny routine of tidying up her self. Now that it was finished, her loss and guilt roared back. For a brief moment, she tempted herself with going to the galley for a hot cup of tea and a piece of ship’s bread. Hot tea would taste so good after her days without it.

Sedric had no tea.

It was a sudden silly thought, but it brought tears to her eyes. A trembling ran through her and then was still. “I don’t want to think about it,” she admitted aloud. When she had been stranded, she’d made herself believe that he was safe on board the ship with Leftrin, even though she had no reason to suppose that Leftrin or the
Tarman
were intact. She’d hidden her fear from herself. And now that she had to face it, she was still burying it, still hiding behind chapped hands and rough hair and cups of tea. Time to face it.

She left her room and walked quickly to Sedric’s cabin. The keepers were mostly aboard now; she could hear the buzz of talk from the galley. She passed Davvie, the ship’s boy, staring disconsolately out over the water. She stepped around him and went on, leaving him to his thoughts. Skelly was talking to Lecter, both their faces etched with sorrow. His eyes lingered on the girl’s face. She heard Skelly ask him something about Alum. Lecter shook his head, the spikes along his jaw quivering. She slipped past them quietly.

She tapped on Sedric’s door and, half a heartbeat later, cursed
herself for stupidity. She opened the door and went in, closing it behind her.

Had absence sharpened her awareness? Everything in the room seemed wrong. It smelled of unwashed clothing and sweat. The blankets were rucked about like an animal’s nest, the floor littered with discarded garments. Untidiness was very unlike Sedric, let alone this sliding into grubbiness. Her guilt hit her with a double sharpness. Sedric had been suffering from dark spirits for days, ever since he had poisoned himself with bad food. How could she have left him alone so much, even if he had been unpleasant and cold to her? How could she have visited this room for even a few minutes and not admitted how he was declining? She should have tidied things for him here, kept it as clean and bright as she could. The signs of his despondency were obvious in every part of the room. For one shocking moment, she wondered if he had deliberately done away with himself.

Knowing it was ridiculous, a mercy performed too late, she gathered his unwashed garments and carefully folded them, setting some aside to launder. She shook out his bedding and re-made his pallet. A promise to herself—a foolish promise—that he would return and be relieved to find a tidy room waiting for him. She took up the bundle he had been using for a pillow and shook it to fluff it.

As she did so, something fell to the floor. She stooped in the darkness and groped until her fingers found a fine chain. She lifted it and held it to the light. A locket swung from it. It gleamed gold and flashed even in the dim light. She had never seen Sedric wear it, and the moment it had tumbled from its hiding place in his pillow, she knew it was something private. She smiled even as her heart ached. She’d never suspected that he had a sweetheart, let alone that she’d gifted him with a locket. With a sudden wrench, she understood his reluctance to be stolen away from Bingtown, and his agony over being gone so long. Why hadn’t he told her? He could have confided in her, and then she would have understood his driving need to return. His melancholy of the last week suddenly shone in a
different light. He was heartsick. With her free hand, she caught the locket as it swung.

She had not intended to open it. She was not the sort of woman who pried and spied. But as her hand closed on the locket, the catch sprung and it opened in her hand. With an exclamation of dismay, she saw that a lock of gleaming black hair was now escaping from its golden prison. She opened the locket the rest of the way to tuck it back in, and then stopped. Gazing up at her from the locket’s confines were features that she recognized. Whoever had painted the miniature had known him well, to catch his face at just that moment before he burst into laughter. His green eyes were narrowed, his finely chiseled lips pulled tight enough to partially bare his white teeth. The painting was the work of a skilled artist. She looked down at Hest smiling up at her. What did it mean? What could it mean?

She sank down slowly to sit on Sedric’s bed. With trembling fingers, she poked the curl of black hair, tied with a single golden thread, back into the locket. It took her three tries before it would stay snapped shut. And when it was closed, the mystery only enlarged. For engraved on the outside of the golden clam-shell was a single word. “Always,” she whispered to herself.

She sat for a long time as the afternoon sunlight outside the small window slowly died. There could be but one explanation. Hest had had the locket made and entrusted it to Sedric to give to her. Why had he done such a thing?

Always
. What did that word mean to her, coming from Hest? Had he feared to lose her? Did he actually care for her, in some thwarted bizarre way that he could not confess to her face? Was that what this locket was supposed to tell her? Or had it been intended as a threat, that “Always” he would keep a hold on her? No matter where she went, no matter how far, or how long she stayed away, Hest held her leash. Always. Always. She looked at the locket in the palm of her hand. Carefully, she lifted the chain and puddled it in a golden coil around the closed locket. She shut her fist around it, thrust her hand inside Sedric’s pillow and dropped it. Carefully, she set the pillow down on his pallet.

Her eyes roved around the small place where she had kenneled Sedric. Dim and small and crowded. Untidy. Completely unlike his personal chambers at their home in Bingtown. He loved high ceilings and tall windows open to the breeze. His desk and shelves were always a model of organization. Hest’s servants knew to stock his room daily with fresh flowers, that he loved fragrant applewood burning in his small fireplace and hot tea served on an enameled tray. Scented candles in the evening and mulled wine. And from all that, she had snatched him away and condemned him to this. “Sedric, I will make it up to you. I promise. Just be alive. Just be where we can find you. My friend, I’ve treated you badly, but I swear it was not with intent. I swear.”

She stood on her tiptoes to open the small windows to the evening breeze. As soon as they had water for washing, she’d see that his clothes were laundered and hung fresh in his wardrobe. It was all she could do. She refused to consider the futility of promises made to a dead man. He had to be alive and he had to be found. That was all there was to it.

“T
HAT’S SIMPLY NOT POSSIBLE.”
Thymara spoke firmly.

“We are not asking you,” Sintara rejoined. “It’s his right.”

“We do not eat our dead,” Tats said stiffly.

Evening had fallen, and much to the relief of everyone the river had finally subsided to an almost normal level. The dragons were still belly-deep in water, but now they had river bottom to stand on, even if it was thick with a fresh coat of silt and muck. The crew had moved the barge to an anchoring spot that was close to the dragons without threatening the barge with getting stranded. Every keeper had had a hot meal, even if it had been a small one.

Plans for the next day had been set. The keepers, dragons, and the barge would remain where they were for the next two days while Carson traveled a full day down the river and back up again, looking for survivors or bodies. Davvie had wanted to go with him and been refused. “I can’t load the boat up
with passengers here, lad. I need room to ferry back anyone I find.”

Kase had offered to accompany him in one of the other boats, but with the makeshift paddles they had, Carson had said he would only slow him down. “Use the time while I’m gone to see what you can do about carving out some decent paddles. Davvie and I have some extra spear-and arrowheads. Jess had a good stock of hunting equipment in his chest on board, but don’t raid that just yet. I’ve still got hopes that we’ll find him alive. He’s a pretty savvy riverman. It would take more than a big wave to do him in, I’ll wager.”

Everything had been decided, and some of the keepers were already settling for the night when the dragons had waded out to surround the barge and Baliper had made his outrageous demand.