‘There’s always work where Carson is involved,’ Tats muttered, and Thymara smiled her agreement.

Day the 21st of the Plough Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders

From the Masters of the Bird Keepers’ Guild, Trehaug

To the Masters of the Bird Keepers’ Guild, Bingtown

To our fellows, greetings.

As was suggested by Master Kerig Sweetwater, we have proceeded with great circumspection and attention to detail in the matter of Kim, formerly Keeper of the Birds, Cassarick, and the grave allegations that have been made against him.

Close scrutiny of the birds coming and going from his coops, an accounting of revenues collected, and the judicious interception and inspection of messages passing through his hands have revealed too many irregularities to be ignored. At best, they indicate a complete disregard for Guild standards, and at worst, treachery to the Guild and treason to the Independent Alliance of Traders. The full extent of his wrongdoing has not yet been established.

For now, he has been stripped of all authority, his birds confiscated, his apprentices reassigned for retraining in correct procedures and his journeymen rebuked for not reporting irregularities that they must have witnessed. Some may eventually be dismissed from the Guild or required to spend additional years as journeymen.

There are indications that the corruption was not confined to Cassarick. As the connections become clear, other bird keepers may face charges of broken contracts or dismissal from the Guild. A painful time is before us, but at least we have flown through the worst of this storm and may soon emerge into better weather.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Dragon Decisions

Thymara felt strangely shy as she took them out of the pouch where she had stored them. ‘They don’t really fit me. My claws stick out too far.’ By daylight, the gauntlets were green. No trace of Silver clung to them. ‘They’re very supple, and I think perhaps they were made especially for her. Amarinda.’

‘Where did they get the dragon hide?’ Harrikin wondered aloud.

Thymara shook her head wordlessly. Tats hazarded a guess. ‘It would have been a special gift from a dying dragon, maybe. Or maybe from a dragon who had the duty of devouring a dead dragon.’

‘I don’t know. Maybe the answer will be found in one of the memory-stones one day.’ A darker thought came to Thymara. ‘Or it might have been taken from a fallen enemy. A dragon who came and tried to raid the well and was defeated.’

‘Did you look for it in Amarinda’s pillars?’ Carson asked her.

She found she was blushing. ‘No. I didn’t find anything about working Silver in her pillars.’

Those who had stayed behind were gathered around the Silver well, former slaves as well as keepers. The slaves still kept their own company, but were beginning to take an interest in the keepers’ daily tasks. Carson had been trying to convey to them that if they wanted to share the keepers’ food, then they had to share the work as well. Thymara was not completely certain that they understood that. But all of them had begun to look less haggard and cowed. When asked to help, they did, but so far none of them had volunteered. They had debated keeping the Silver and the gauntlets secret from them, but in the end they had decided to not worry about it. To whom could they tell the secrets of Kelsingra? ‘If we knew what the secrets really were,’ Carson had added dourly.

In the absence of the dragons, Carson had declared that they had to devise an effective cap for the Silver reservoir. He and Harrikin had hunted the hills for downed trees and had the good fortune to find the trunk of a substantial oak. All had laboured to cut and shape the slabs of timber that they had fashioned into a well cover. It was rough, little more than a rectangle of wood that fit over the well mouth. As it was, it might keep anyone from falling into the well, but it would do little more than that. It was Carson’s hope that Thymara might be able to shape it into a securely fitting cap.

A bucket of Silver, drawn from the well, waited on the paving stones before her. ‘I suppose I just put on the gauntlets, dip my hands into the Silver and then …’ She looked all around at the others. ‘Has anyone ever found a memory of anyone working Silver? Seen them at work?’

‘I’ve seen people wearing Silver gloves, still gleaming. But I didn’t really see what they were doing. They were crouched down by a statue, looking at the base of it and talking as I walked by. In the memory,’ Alum added, as if to explain.

Thymara slowly began to draw on a gauntlet.

‘What if it leaks?’ Tats demanded wildly. ‘What if it soaks through? What if there’s something about this that we don’t understand, something that hurts her or kills her?’