No. There was nothing to go back to. Nothing at all.

His spirits sank and gloom closed in all around him. Even the room seemed to become darker. He closed his eyes and wondered how much courage it would take for him to end it. Once he had imagined he could throw himself into water and drown, that once that decision had been undertaken, it would be irrevocable. Well, he knew better now. Once in the water he would struggle. Whether he willed it or not, he would shout for help.

And I would come to save you. Again.

As the thought filled his mind, a warm feeling suffused him. Comfort and contentment, without reason, rose up and filled him as if he were an earthenware mug filling up with hot tea. He struggled briefly, trying to find his way back to his misery. And then, like a flame claiming a wick and sending forth life, he suddenly wondered why he was holding so tightly to that misery. He let go again. His dragon’s affection filled him and warmed him and crowded out the pain that had been there.

There. You see? We’re going to be all right. Both of us.

‘My old friend, we need a private word or two.’

Leftrin looked up from scowling at his mug of coffee. It was the second pot made with the same grindings today, and was both weak and bitter. He thought about dumping it over the side and then reminded himself that it was marginally better than plain hot water. He turned to his old friend. ‘Finding a place for a private word is going to be the trick,’ he said. He and Carson both turned, putting their backs to the aft rail and looking over the decks of the Tarman. Keepers and crew mingled in conversation knots. Harrikin and Sylve and Skelly sat cross-legged on the roof of the deckhouse. Skelly was pointing up at the stars and telling them something about them. Boxter and Kase were belly down on the deck, arm wrestling. Alum and Nortel were keeping them honest while Jerd looked on grinning. Greft stood next to her, scowling. As Leftrin watched, the boy worked his mouth and then rubbed the sides of his jaw as if it pained him. The shape of his face was changing; it looked uncomfortable.

Past the keepers, he could see the silhouette of Swarge and Bellin, heads together, leaning on the railing, talking. As his eyes roved the decks, seeking a quiet spot, he found none.

‘My stateroom, then,’ he said quietly, and Carson followed him. He lit a candle in the galley and then led the way to his small room.

‘So, what is it, then?’ Leftrin asked him as he shut the door behind them. He pushed the candle into its holder and then sat down on his bunk. Carson, his face grave, sat down on the chair by the chart table. He took a heavy breath.

‘Jess is dead. Believe it or not, Sedric and the copper killed him. Sedric says he had to kill him because Jess was planning to kill his dragon and sell the body parts in Chalced.’

‘Sedric killed Jess?’ Leftrin’s disbelief was plain in his voice. He had been so sure that he had killed Jess. How that bastard had survived his beating and a drowning was nothing short of a miracle. And then to be killed by a Bingtown fop and a dim-witted dragon?

‘He and the dragon both said so.’

Leftrin scrambled for words. ‘Don’t get me wrong, that man needed killing if anyone ever did. It just seems so unlikely that Sedric was up to the job, let alone he’d do it to defend a dragon—’ He let his comment trail away. If Carson had killed the hunter and was, for whatever reason, putting the deed at Sedric’s door, he wanted the man to know he could own up to it and Leftrin wouldn’t think less of him.

‘The deed was done before I got there. Nothing left of Jess but some blood in Greft’s boat. Dragon ate him.’

‘Well, that’s fitting,’ Leftrin said quietly. He tried not to smile. He wouldn’t tell Jess that his earlier fight with the hunter had probably softened him up substantially for Sedric. It was over. He heaved a sigh that was part relief and part amazement. Sedric had finished the deed for him. He owed the man a debt of thanks.

‘It’s fitting because Jess was on board to harvest dragon parts. Right? And you knew about it. Maybe had an agreement about it?’

Silence filled up the room like cold water filling up a sinking vessel. He hadn’t seen that coming. Carson was quiet, waiting. Leftrin cleared his throat and made his decision. Truth time. ‘Here’s how it was, Carson, exactly. Someone had me over the fire and thought they could demand I do this. They said they’d be sending someone on this expedition who would be hunting dragon bits for the Duke of Chalced. I didn’t agree to it; it was just done to me. At first, I wasn’t even sure who their man was. I even thought it might be you, from one comment you made. Then, not too long ago, Jess made it clear to me that he was the one and he expected me to help him.’

Carson was sitting quietly, listening as only he could. He nodded slowly, and let Leftrin take his time and pick how he told his story.

‘Just before the wave hit, I was on the beach, doing my best to throttle the life out of Jess. All this time, I’ve been thinking that I’d done the job, or maybe the wave had finished it. So, I’m surprised it was Sedric. But I’ll admit that I’m just glad it was done.’

‘So, that’s all there was to it? You don’t have plans to butcher a dragon and sell the parts to Chalced?’

Leftrin shook his head. ‘I’m a lot of things, Carson, and a lot of them aren’t nice. But I’d never betray the Rain Wilds that way.’

‘Or Alise?’ Carson watched his face as he asked him.

‘Or Alise,’ Leftrin agreed.

It was strange to move upriver again, as if nothing had happened. Thymara stood on the Tarman’s deck, the tool in her hand forgotten, and watched the jungly riverbank slowly slide by her. When she was in her own little boat, she’d never really had a chance to look down at the shore like this and see how the banks of the river changed as the hours of the day passed by. She missed being in her small boat but was almost glad it was gone. If it still existed, she’d have been paired with someone who wasn’t Rapskal, and it hurt to imagine that.

Counting Carson’s boat, they were reduced to five small boats, and only three had a full complement of gear. The Tarman had shipped extra oars for all the boats, she had discovered to her relief. Even so, the keepers had to rotate their days on the water. And when they were not in the small boats, they served on board the barge, doing whatever the captain asked them to do.

The expedition was now short on everything; knives, bows and arrows, spears and fishing tackle had been lost, not to mention blankets, spare clothing and the few personal items that each keeper had brought along. Greft had repeatedly congratulated himself on how well he had stowed his gear. It made Thymara want to hit him. It was sheer luck that his boat had wedged in the same tangle where the Bingtown man washed ashore. If it hadn’t, he would have been as beggared as the rest of them. As it was, he now functioned as a hunter alongside Carson. Those two boats had departed at dawn, with Davvie helping Carson and Nortel riding along with Greft. She was just as glad; Nortel had come to her with a bruised face and muttered an apology for ‘treating her like trade goods’ and then walked away. She wondered if the words were his or Tats’, and if Tats hoped to gain anything by forcing Nortel to apologize to her.