Sylve lifted bloodstained hands to wipe her cheeks before turning back to Thymara. Thymara winced. She knew that when you were that far along in being scale-faced, it hurt when you cried. Sylve sniffed. “You said they were thieves,” she said thickly. “Well, how am I different?”

“It’s different because you didn’t take it without asking! It’s different because you were helping me with the silver dragon for no other reason than that is how you are. It’s different because you put in before you take out. Those three don’t care anything about any dragons but their own.”

Sylve lifted the front edge of her tunic to dab at her messy face. She spoke from its shelter. “How is that different from us? We’re only talking about feeding our own dragons.”

“But that was the deal!” Thymara almost exploded. “That was the agreement that each of us signed. Each of us said we’d be responsible for a dragon. And here we are, we each have two to worry about. Without some ignorant louts coming in and poaching our hard-earned meat. Well, they’re not going to get away with it!” As she’d spoken, Thymara had slid her arms into the makeshift harness that Tats had created. She had the front end of the carcass with the rib cage. Tats had taken the heavy hindquarter for himself. Without saying a word, they’d agreed that little Sylve could drag the head and neck back. It was lighter than what they were hauling, but still not an easy load to get back to the river through all the brush and swamp.

“Actually, I think it’s likely they will.” Tats spoke as he leaned into his load and followed her. Sylve came last of all, getting the advantage of the broken trail through the brush.

“Will what?”

“Will get away with it. What we were just talking about. Greft and Kase and Boxter will get away with taking your meat.”

“No, they won’t! Not when I tell everyone!”

“By the time we get back, they will have told everyone the story their way. And it will seem to everyone who didn’t get a kill for their dragon today that it would only be sensible for you to share with everyone.” He added something else in a softer voice.

“What?” she demanded, halting to look back at him.

“I said,” he said defiantly, his ears turning a bit pink, “that in some ways it would be only sensible.”

“What? What are you saying? That I should do all the work of hunting and making a kill, and then just give it away to everyone else?”

“Keep pulling. Night’s coming on. Yes, that is what I’m saying. Because you’re a good hunter, probably the best we have. If you were free to hunt, and everyone else had to do the butchering and hauling the meat, you’d be able to get a lot more prey. And all the dragons would have a better chance of a real meal.”

“But Skymaw would get less! A lot less. She should have had almost half an elk today. Your way, she’d get one-fifteenth. She’d starve on that!”

“She’d get one-fifteenth of what everyone caught. I think you may be our best hunter, but you’re not our only one. Think about it, Thymara. There is you, and the three professional hunters, and some of the rest of us are not too bad at fishing and small game. Each dragon would be almost certain of getting at least something to eat every night.”

She was sweating now as she dragged the meat through the forest. It was getting dark, and the mosquitoes and gnats had found her. She swiped angrily at her brow and then slapped the back of her neck, crushing half a dozen of the persistent bloodsuckers. “I can’t believe you’re taking Greft’s side,” she observed bitterly.

“I’m not. I’m taking my side. Basically, it’s the deal you were ready to offer me, only expanded to include everyone.”

She went on silently pulling her load, pushing her way past leaning branches and gritting her teeth every time she missed her footing and plunged ankle deep in muck. She was stingingly aware that Sylve could hear every word. She couldn’t just say to Tats that it was different, that he was her friend and her ally and she didn’t mind sharing with him. Not that she minded sharing with Sylve tonight; the girl had done her best to take care of the injured silver dragon. In a way, Thymara supposed that she was her partner now, since they’d both agreed to do what they could for the creature. In another moment, she became uncomfortably aware that she knew Sylve had only the smallest chance of keeping even one dragon alive, let alone volunteering to help with the silver, too. Maybe she owed the girl her help. She didn’t like the way that idea jabbed her. She didn’t want anyone depending on her, let alone have someone that she owed help to. And what about Rapskal? If he asked her for meat for his runty little Heeby, would she say no? He partnered with her every day in her boat, and he always did at least half the work there. So what did she owe him? Tats spoke at just the wrong moment.