“You seem to know a great deal about dragons,” Reyn observed to Selden. “Whence comes all this sudden knowledge?”

Instead of replying, Selden asked a question of his own. “I’m turning into a Rain Wilder, aren’t I?”

Reyn didn’t look at him. He wasn’t sure Selden would want to consider his face just now. The changes in Reyn’s own appearance seemed to be accelerating. Even his fingernails were growing thicker and hornier. Usually such changes did not come to a Rain Wilder until he reached middle age. “It certainly looks that way. Does it distress you?”

“Not much. I don’t think my mother likes it.” Before Reyn could react to that, he went on, “I have the dreams of a Rain Wilder now. They started the night I fell asleep in the city. You woke me from one, when you found me. I couldn’t hear the music then, like Malta did, but I think that if I went back now, I would. The knowledge grows in me, and I don’t know where it comes from.” He knit his scaled brows. “It belonged to someone else, but somehow it’s coming down to me now. Is that what is called ‘drowning in memories,’ Reyn? A stream of memories flows through me. Am I going to go crazy?”

He set his hand to the boy’s shoulder and gripped it. Such a thin and narrow shoulder to take on such a burden. “Not necessarily. Not all of us go crazy. Some of us learn to swim with the flow.”

Liveship Traders 3 - Ship of Destiny

CHAPTER TWENTY - Prisoners

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’LL BE WARM ENOUGH?” JANI KHUPRUS ASKED HIM AGAIN.

Selden rolled his eyes at Reyn in sympathy, and the Rain Wilder found himself smiling. “I don’t know,” Reyn replied honestly. “But if I put on any more layers of clothing, I’m afraid I’ll slip out of them when the dragon is carrying me.”

That silenced her. “I’ll be fine, Mother,” he assured her. “It won’t be any worse than sailing in foul weather.”

They stood in a hastily cleared area behind the Traders’ Concourse. Tintaglia had demanded that henceforth every city in the Traders’ control must have an open space sufficiently large for a dragon to land comfortably. And whenever a dragon chose to land in a city, the inhabitants must guarantee the creature a warm welcome and an adequate meal. Negotiating what an “adequate meal” was had taken several hours. The meat had to be alive, and equal at least the size of a “well-fleshed bull calf at the end of his first year.” When told she was more likely to get poultry, as Bingtown lacked grazing lands for cattle, she had sulked until someone had offered her warmed oil and assistance in grooming her scales whenever she visited. That had seemed to mollify her.

Days had been taken up with such quibbling, until Reyn had thought he would go mad. The dozen or so surviving pigeons that served Bingtown and Trehaug had been flown into a state of exhaustion. The terse missives sent and received had seemed incapable of explaining all that was going on in both cities. Reyn had been relieved when a single line informed them that his stepfather and half-sister had returned to the city in good health. Bendir had left Trehaug to venture upriver to locate the place Tintaglia had indicated on the tiny river chart they’d sent. He would begin both to ponder a method of deepening the river, and to survey for signs of a buried city. Content that her goals were being advanced, Tintaglia had finally agreed to depart to search for Malta. Reyn was surprised at how many folk had gathered to watch his departure, probably more from curiosity than any deep concern for his mission. Malta’s life or death would little affect them.

“Are you ready?” Tintaglia asked him irritably. Through their bond, she spoke in his mind, so that he could feel her annoyance.

Resolutely, he set her emotions aside from his own. Unfortunately, that left him with little more than nervousness and dread. He stepped up to the dragon. “I am ready.”

“Very well then,” she replied. She swept her gaze over those assembled to bid them farewell. “When I return, I expect to see progress. Great progress.”

Selden broke suddenly from his mother’s side and thrust a small cloth bag into Reyn’s hands. It rattled. “Take these. They were Malta’s. They might help you get through.”

Gravely Reyn poked the mouth of the small bag open, expecting some token of jewelry. Instead, he found a handful of tinted honey drops. He looked up from the candy in puzzlement. Selden shrugged.

“I was at our old house yesterday, seeing what was left there. Almost everything had been stolen or destroyed. So I looked in some of the less obvious places.” Selden grinned, abruptly a small brother. “I always knew where Malta hid her candy.” The smile softened at the edges. “She loves honey drops. But they might keep you going in the cold. I don’t think she’d mind if you ate them.”