On the steps of the baths, seven former slaves sat watching the chaos and pageantry as if it were a puppet show. Long servitude had left harsh marks on all of them, minds as well as bodies. Thymara wondered if they fully grasped that the Tarman had truly departed, leaving them here to begin new lives. Only a few had adopted the Elderling garb they had been offered. The others had washed and mended their tattered clothes and seemed to be grateful that they were allowed time to do that. They still kept to themselves and spoke mostly Chalcedean to one another.
Rapskal was everywhere, striding about, directing keepers to tighten or loosen a harness strap, asking each keeper if they had filled a water bag and packed rations. He had a practised air to his motions and questions that nearly broke Thymara’s heart. She knew it was Tellator who was seeing to his soldiers. She watched him sternly assist Jerd to mount and stand by her as she settled into place on Veras. The other keepers imitated her.
Spit had insisted that he would carry no one, not even Carson. They had quarrelled about it, and when the hunter had attempted to put a harness on the silver dragon, Spit had hissed at him. Mercor had intervened. ‘This is something a dragon decides for himself,’ he had warned Carson gravely. The hunter stood beside Relpda and looked up at Sedric perched on her back. Tightly packed gear bags hung from the rings on her bell-studded harness. Thymara thought to herself that Carson had packed everything he could possibly imagine Sedric needing. The two men regarded one another gravely. Carson reached out to touch Sedric’s boot, nodded tightly and then turned away. She saw Sedric swallow and lift his face to stare into the distance. Thymara shook her head sadly for them.
‘Kase and Boxter?’ she asked Tats.
‘Going. Alum isn’t. You know how Arbuc loves to show off when he flies. He didn’t want to worry about spilling Alum off if he did a back-loop.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘It’s going to be very strange to be such a small group here in the city. Especially with Tarman and most of the captives gone.’
She touched his hand. ‘At least we’ll be together,’ she reminded him.
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were following Fente. She had chosen a bright-yellow harness and once he had adjusted it for her, his dragon had dismissed him. ‘I wish we were both going with them.’
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On the steps of the baths, seven former slaves sat watching the chaos and pageantry as if it were a puppet show. Long servitude had left harsh marks on all of them, minds as well as bodies. Thymara wondered if they fully grasped that the Tarman had truly departed, leaving them here to begin new lives. Only a few had adopted the Elderling garb they had been offered. The others had washed and mended their tattered clothes and seemed to be grateful that they were allowed time to do that. They still kept to themselves and spoke mostly Chalcedean to one another.
Rapskal was everywhere, striding about, directing keepers to tighten or loosen a harness strap, asking each keeper if they had filled a water bag and packed rations. He had a practised air to his motions and questions that nearly broke Thymara’s heart. She knew it was Tellator who was seeing to his soldiers. She watched him sternly assist Jerd to mount and stand by her as she settled into place on Veras. The other keepers imitated her.
Spit had insisted that he would carry no one, not even Carson. They had quarrelled about it, and when the hunter had attempted to put a harness on the silver dragon, Spit had hissed at him. Mercor had intervened. ‘This is something a dragon decides for himself,’ he had warned Carson gravely. The hunter stood beside Relpda and looked up at Sedric perched on her back. Tightly packed gear bags hung from the rings on her bell-studded harness. Thymara thought to herself that Carson had packed everything he could possibly imagine Sedric needing. The two men regarded one another gravely. Carson reached out to touch Sedric’s boot, nodded tightly and then turned away. She saw Sedric swallow and lift his face to stare into the distance. Thymara shook her head sadly for them.
‘Kase and Boxter?’ she asked Tats.
‘Going. Alum isn’t. You know how Arbuc loves to show off when he flies. He didn’t want to worry about spilling Alum off if he did a back-loop.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘It’s going to be very strange to be such a small group here in the city. Especially with Tarman and most of the captives gone.’
She touched his hand. ‘At least we’ll be together,’ she reminded him.
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were following Fente. She had chosen a bright-yellow harness and once he had adjusted it for her, his dragon had dismissed him. ‘I wish we were both going with them.’
Malta drifted over to stand with them. In silence, they watched Rapskal climb up the straps that dangled from Heeby’s harness and take his place in a high-backed saddle almost between her wings. Once settled, he lifted his horn to his lips and blew out a precise ascension of notes. ‘Tellator.’ She growled the name to herself and looked away from the Elderling who had stolen the boy she had known. Heeby gathered herself under him and instead of her familiar trundling take-off, leapt into the air, bearing him up with her.
In the next moment, Thymara and Tats were blasted with wind as the rest of the dragons launched into flight. The beating of their wings battered her ears and blew her hair across her face. The rank smell of dragon musk assailed her and then, just as abruptly, they were standing in the silent square, looking up as the dragons grew smaller above them. She blinked dust from her eyes.
Malta spoke into the silence. ‘Tintaglia’s gone, and Reyn with her.’ The baby she held hiccupped and she patted him absently. ‘I never imagined how hard it would be to watch them both leave us.’ She folded the child closer to her.
Thymara heard her unvoiced thought. How many of them would return and when?
‘Oh, Fente, be careful,’ Tats murmured, his eyes fixed on his diminishing green dragon. He turned to Malta. ‘I don’t even know how far Chalced is from here, or how long it will take them to get there.’
Malta shook her head. ‘No one knows how long it takes a dragon to fly anywhere. They have clear weather, at least for starting the journey. The dragons will have to take time to hunt each day, and they will sleep at night when it’s dark. But they will travel straight this time rather than following the river. So, I have no idea at all.’ She gave a sigh. ‘Tarman left this morning with a full load of passengers, Tillamon amongst them.’
‘Why didn’t you go?’ Tats asked her curiously.
She looked startled. ‘This is my home now,’ she said. ‘Kelsingra is the city of Elderlings. I may go back to visit Trehaug or Bingtown, some day. Or perhaps my family will come here. But Ephron will grow up here, amongst his own kind. He will never go veiled. Kelsingra is where we belong. This is our home now.’
‘Mine, too,’ Tats admitted, and Thymara nodded.
Spring sunlight glittered on the dragons in the distance. Alum drifted over to join them. It was a small, disconsolate group that stood in the plaza and watched the dragons wing away into the distance. Carson cleared his throat. ‘Well. There’s work to do. From what Thymara has told us, there’s a danger from that well if we can’t find a way to cap it in times of high Silver. And the dock isn’t going to build itself. Nor those boats get cleaned up.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘No sense standing around wasting daylight. The sooner we start, the sooner we’re finished. And work keeps the mind busy.’