‘You! Thymara! Think you’re decorative? There’s a pole left. Get on the end of it.’

Hennesey’s order jarred her from her daydreaming. She felt a blush rise as she hurried forward to pick up the last available pole. Jerd still stood to one side, a hand on her belly. Sylve stood near her, arms folded, mouth set in disapproval. Obviously she had expected to be part of the pole crew despite her diminutive size.

Hennesey was still barking orders. ‘I don’t expect you to know what you’re doing, but I expect you to help. It’s pretty simple. Shove the pole down into the mud. When I yell, everyone pushes. It shouldn’t take much to get us off. Once we’re clear of the mud, bring your poles back on board without braining each other, and let the crew take over. Ready?’

Thymara had found a place alongside Skelly. The deckhand grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry, sis. This ought to be easy. Then you can get back to those pots in the galley.’

‘Oh, yes, I’m longing to do that,’ Thymara assured her, returning her grin. She looked at Skelly’s hands, copied her grip on the pole and her stance. The deckhand gave her an approving nod.

‘Now push!’ Hennesey shouted, and they all strained.

The boat rocked, shifted, rocked again as they grunted and strained.

And the Tarman settled in deeper.

The long afternoon passed very slowly.

The crew and the keepers manned their poles. They shoved, the barge moved slightly and dug in again. Long after it was apparent to Leftrin that Tarman was opposing their efforts to free him, he stubbornly kept his crew at work. First Hennesey called him aside, then Swarge and Bellin together approached him. Skelly read his humour and left him alone. His replies to each query was terse. Yes, he could see that the barge was deliberately digging in. Yes, he could tell it was not accidental. No, he didn’t want to stop trying. And no, he had no idea what was upsetting the ship.

In all the family history of the Tarman, Leftrin had never heard of him directly defying his captain’s will. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening. ‘Ship, what ails you?’ He muttered as he clutched the aft railing. But there was too much going on around him. The clustered and chattering keepers, the anxious crew and Leftrin’s own frustration clouded his ability to read his ship. Tarman conveyed by turns agitation when they tried to move him and determination as he dug in deeper.

More than once that day, he’d silently set his hands to the railing and tried to find out what was troubling his ship. Demanding to know what was wrong only brought an echo from his ship that this is wrong.

At one point, he bellowed aloud in frustration, ‘How is it wrong?’

All heads turned to him, Skelly gaping in shock. The only response he felt from Tarman made no sense. Water wrong, river wrong. It made no sense. So Leftrin dug his heels in as firmly as Tarman’s claws were set in the bottom and kept crew and keepers busy at trying to rip the barge free. Twice the barge swung wide and almost came free, only to suddenly dig in at the other end. It was oil on the flames of his frustration to sense his ship’s amusement at the humans’ puny efforts.

He had given the pole handlers a break when Swarge and Hennesey came at him together. ‘Cap, we think it might have something to do with the new, uh, hull design.’

That from Swarge, and then Hennesey added, ‘And if it does, we might be better off to find out what’s troubling Tarman before we insist on having our own way.’

He was still formulating an answer to that when someone shouted, ‘Keeper boats are coming back, hunters, too. And the dragons are headed back towards us.’

He glanced up at the sky, and then at the approaching boats and dragons. The dragons and hunters must have finally realized the barge wasn’t following them. They were returning. They’d lose most of a day’s travel at a time when supplies were running low. He wasn’t pleased. He looked over at his crew. This was probably the hardest day they’d put in since the barge had been modified. They were exhausted and worried. The keepers looked weary. He gave in.

‘Put the poles up. Even if we got free tonight, we’d just have to find a good place to overnight. So, we’ll stay here. Keepers, you can go ashore, see what you can find for firewood, make a blaze. Let’s all take a break and I’ll have a fresh look at things in the morning.’ He turned and walked away from their puzzled stares. It did not help that he sensed Tarman’s profound satisfaction at getting his own way.

Alise saw Thymara clambering over the railing and called out to her hastily, ‘May I go with you?’

Thymara stopped, startled. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and her hair, freshly fastened into long black braids, had been tied in a bundle at the back of her head. ‘I’ve already been to check on Sintara. I’m going to use what’s left of the light to look at the other tributary.’

‘I’d guessed that. May I go with you, please?’ Alise put a bit of emphasis on the last word. She’d already seen the girl’s reluctance.

‘If you wish,’ Thymara sounded more resigned than welcoming. She was still missing her friend, Alise supposed.

She followed the Rain Wild girl to the railing and climbed down after her to the muddy shore. The dragons had taken refuge for the evening on the delta between the two rivers and were rapidly trampling the vegetation into oblivion. Even so, it was the most pleasant place they had stopped in for a while. Scattered white trees with papery bark grew on almost dry land. Behind them a forest grew that looked almost familiar to Alise, a woodland of smaller trees with open spaces between them.

But she was following Thymara and the girl did not go that way, but towards the other river. For a time, Alise followed her in silence, intent on keeping up with the younger woman. Thymara walked swiftly; Alise did not complain. But as they reached the bank of the gentler river and began to walk up its shore, Thymara slowed, knitting her brow and peering around at the trees and moss and grasses.

‘It’s so different here,’ she said at last.

‘It’s a more familiar kind of forest,’ Alise agreed, and then added, ‘To me at least.’

‘The water is so clear.’

It wasn’t, to Alise’s eyes. But she saw immediately what Thymara was referring to. ‘There’s no white to it. No acid at all, or at least very little.’

‘I’ve never seen a river like this.’ She made her way to the mossy bank and stooped down. After a moment of hesitation, she dipped her fingers into the water and let drops of it fall on her tongue. ‘I’ve never tasted water like this. It’s alive.’

Alise didn’t laugh. ‘It looks like normal river water to me. But I haven’t seen this much of it since I entered the Rain Wilds. Oh, we’ve passed some streams of clear water on our way here, but as you said, nothing like this.’

‘Shh.’

Alise froze and followed the direction of Thymara’s stare. Across the river, deer had come to drink. There was a buck with a substantial rack, two yearling bucks and several does. Only one had noticed the two women. The large buck stood, muzzle still dripping, and stared at them while the other deer came and drank.

‘And me with no bow,’ Thymara sighed.

The buck’s large ears flicked back and forth. He made a sound in his throat, a whuff, and his companions immediately lifted their heads. He made no sign that Alise saw, but the deer immediately retreated into the shelter of the trees and underbrush with the buck being the last to wheel and go. Privately, Alise was glad that Thymara was weaponless. She would not have enjoyed watching him die, nor helping with the butchering.

‘If stupid Greft wasn’t so selfish with the hunting tools, we’d all be having fresh venison tonight,’ Thymara grumbled.