The Dragon Keeper
Page 142
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But she wondered if they all accepted it as deeply as she did.
Greft had strongly hinted that he did not. He was going to make his own rules, he’d said. So. What about Jerd? Would she keep the rules they had all grown up with?
As Thymara rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she tried not to notice who slept adjacent to whom, nor to wonder what any of it meant. After all, everyone had to sleep somewhere. If Jerd always spread her blankets next to Tats, it could simply mean that she felt safe sleeping beside him. And if Greft always found an excuse to try to engage her in talk when the others were getting ready to sleep, it might mean only that he thought she was intelligent.
She glanced over at him now. He was, as usual, among the first to rise and was already folding his bedding. He slept without a shirt; she’d been surprised to discover that a lot of the boys did. Jerd, who had brothers, was surprised that she didn’t know that, but Thymara could not recall that she’d ever seen her father half clothed. She watched Greft as he scratched his scaled back. She knew that feeling of relentless itching. It meant that the scales were growing thicker and harder. She watched him bend his spine slightly so that he could ripple the scales up and scratch beneath them. If he was self-conscious at all about how heavily the Rain Wilds had marked him, he didn’t show it. This morning it almost seemed as if he were showing off his body.
Her mind flitted back to his words the night he had all but driven Tats away. Greft wanted to make his own rules, he’d said. And he had already begun to do just that. She was a little surprised at how easily he had made himself the leader of their group. All he had to do was behave as if he were. All the younger ones had fallen in with him immediately. Only a few remained outside his spell. Tats was one of them. She suspected that if Greft had not made his move so quickly and so definitively labeled Tats as an outsider, Tats would have moved up to a position of leadership. Tats, she thought, probably knew that as well. Jerd was another one who regarded Greft with suspicion, or at least reservation. It’s because we are both female, Thymara thought. It’s because of the way he looks at us, as if he’s always evaluating us. She’d even seen it the first time he looked at Sylve; she’d almost seen him dismiss her as too young.
It was oddly flattering yet a bit frightening to have him look at her. As if he could read her thoughts or feel her gaze, he suddenly turned his head. She looked down, but it was too late. He knew she’d been staring at him. From the corner of her eye, as he stretched yet again and rolled his shoulders, she saw him smiling at her. She spoke to Rapskal before Greft could start a conversation with her. “Are you awake? We’re supposed to start our journey today.”
“I’m awake,” the boy said. “But why do we have to start so early? The dragons aren’t going to like being made to move before the day warms up.”
Greft responded before she could. “Because the good people of Cassarick are very much looking forward to us being gone. Once we’ve moved the dragons out, they’ll put docks along the shore here. They’ll probably repair or perhaps properly build the locks they attempted to build for the serpents. Done right, it would allow them to bring larger ships here from Trehaug. Improved shipping could mean that they could better exploit whatever they can dig out of the old city. And with the dragons gone, they’ll feel safer about coming and going and digging deeper and closer to this place. To answer your question more directly, Rapskal, it’s about money. The sooner we take the dragons out of here, the sooner the Traders can stop spending money on dragons and make more money from the buried city.”
Rapskal greeted his words with the furrowed brow and slight pout that meant he was thinking hard. “But . . . why do they have to make us wake up so early? Will one morning make that much difference?”
Greft shook his head, muttered something uncomplimentary, and turned away from the boy. A shadow of hurt flickered across Rapskal’s face. And Thymara felt a moment of absolute dislike for Greft. It startled her in its intensity.
“Let’s get something to eat before we have to get going,” Thymara suggested quickly. “This will be the last day that they feed the dragons for us. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to have to provide for them. And hope they can do a bit of providing for themselves.”
Rapskal’s face brightened at her words. It took so little to make him happy. Her words didn’t have to be kind, even, just not cruel. She tried not to wonder what his early life had been like that mere neutrality seemed like friendship to him. She began folding her blankets up with a small sigh. Of course, even neutral comments attracted Rapskal. Talking to him directly had probably earned her a full day of his close and chattering company.
Greft had strongly hinted that he did not. He was going to make his own rules, he’d said. So. What about Jerd? Would she keep the rules they had all grown up with?
As Thymara rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she tried not to notice who slept adjacent to whom, nor to wonder what any of it meant. After all, everyone had to sleep somewhere. If Jerd always spread her blankets next to Tats, it could simply mean that she felt safe sleeping beside him. And if Greft always found an excuse to try to engage her in talk when the others were getting ready to sleep, it might mean only that he thought she was intelligent.
She glanced over at him now. He was, as usual, among the first to rise and was already folding his bedding. He slept without a shirt; she’d been surprised to discover that a lot of the boys did. Jerd, who had brothers, was surprised that she didn’t know that, but Thymara could not recall that she’d ever seen her father half clothed. She watched Greft as he scratched his scaled back. She knew that feeling of relentless itching. It meant that the scales were growing thicker and harder. She watched him bend his spine slightly so that he could ripple the scales up and scratch beneath them. If he was self-conscious at all about how heavily the Rain Wilds had marked him, he didn’t show it. This morning it almost seemed as if he were showing off his body.
Her mind flitted back to his words the night he had all but driven Tats away. Greft wanted to make his own rules, he’d said. And he had already begun to do just that. She was a little surprised at how easily he had made himself the leader of their group. All he had to do was behave as if he were. All the younger ones had fallen in with him immediately. Only a few remained outside his spell. Tats was one of them. She suspected that if Greft had not made his move so quickly and so definitively labeled Tats as an outsider, Tats would have moved up to a position of leadership. Tats, she thought, probably knew that as well. Jerd was another one who regarded Greft with suspicion, or at least reservation. It’s because we are both female, Thymara thought. It’s because of the way he looks at us, as if he’s always evaluating us. She’d even seen it the first time he looked at Sylve; she’d almost seen him dismiss her as too young.
It was oddly flattering yet a bit frightening to have him look at her. As if he could read her thoughts or feel her gaze, he suddenly turned his head. She looked down, but it was too late. He knew she’d been staring at him. From the corner of her eye, as he stretched yet again and rolled his shoulders, she saw him smiling at her. She spoke to Rapskal before Greft could start a conversation with her. “Are you awake? We’re supposed to start our journey today.”
“I’m awake,” the boy said. “But why do we have to start so early? The dragons aren’t going to like being made to move before the day warms up.”
Greft responded before she could. “Because the good people of Cassarick are very much looking forward to us being gone. Once we’ve moved the dragons out, they’ll put docks along the shore here. They’ll probably repair or perhaps properly build the locks they attempted to build for the serpents. Done right, it would allow them to bring larger ships here from Trehaug. Improved shipping could mean that they could better exploit whatever they can dig out of the old city. And with the dragons gone, they’ll feel safer about coming and going and digging deeper and closer to this place. To answer your question more directly, Rapskal, it’s about money. The sooner we take the dragons out of here, the sooner the Traders can stop spending money on dragons and make more money from the buried city.”
Rapskal greeted his words with the furrowed brow and slight pout that meant he was thinking hard. “But . . . why do they have to make us wake up so early? Will one morning make that much difference?”
Greft shook his head, muttered something uncomplimentary, and turned away from the boy. A shadow of hurt flickered across Rapskal’s face. And Thymara felt a moment of absolute dislike for Greft. It startled her in its intensity.
“Let’s get something to eat before we have to get going,” Thymara suggested quickly. “This will be the last day that they feed the dragons for us. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to have to provide for them. And hope they can do a bit of providing for themselves.”
Rapskal’s face brightened at her words. It took so little to make him happy. Her words didn’t have to be kind, even, just not cruel. She tried not to wonder what his early life had been like that mere neutrality seemed like friendship to him. She began folding her blankets up with a small sigh. Of course, even neutral comments attracted Rapskal. Talking to him directly had probably earned her a full day of his close and chattering company.
