The Dragon Keeper

He'd had no answer to that.

Hest had re-made Sedric, telling him how to comb his hair, what colours to wear and what cut of jacket and where to buy his boots. When Sedric's modest budget could not keep pace with Hest's tastes, Hest had first gifted him with the required clothing, and then, when Sedric's father had looked askance at such largesse, Hest had eventually invented employment for him that required Sedric to live with him. Hest had transformed  Sedric's  life;  no,  he  had  transformed  Sedric himself. He had not only learned the pleasures of fine wine and a well-prepared joint of meat, but had come to expect such things at table. A badly-cut jacket was not to be tolerated. And now what would become of him? If upon his return, he discovered that Hest had replaced him, what then? Sedric closed his eyes tight and tried to imagine life without Hest. Life without Hest's fortune and life style, yes, that he could imagine. But life without Hest's touch?

The barge wallowed unevenly in the current. Sedric let himself become aware of the boat. The crew were at their sweeps. Possibly they had put up the sail if the wind was favourable. The barge and how it moved was a mystery to him; it seemed impossible that such a large object could be rowed up a river, and yet they were moving steadily along.

As Sedric must.

He would not give up. He'd take Alise's stubbor

As for his own ambitions, well, those could be better fulfilled, too. If he was forced to keep company with the dragon keepers and their charges, he would find opportunities to collect more merchandise. He sat up slowly and then moved to the floor. At the base of his wardrobe trunk, there was a concealed drawer. Hest had had the trunk made especially, so that exceptionally valuable merchandise and their cash would travel safely. He never would have imagined the use to which Sedric now put it.

He pulled it open and peered at the two glass containers he had filled today. In the dim light he could not tell much about them. In the drawer awaited other glass and pottery containers, some empty, some with preservative fluids and salts already in them. He had pla

There was even a neatly lettered checklist of the various specimens he hoped to acquire and estimates of their worth. Blood. Teeth. Nails. Scales. Liver. Spleen. Heart. He thought of how queasy he'd felt watching the girl cut the tissue from the dragon's wound. He'd have to get over that. If one of the animals was injured or died, he'd have to find a way to be close to it quickly. His banishment might prove the foundation of his fortune.

He stored his specimens carefully away and shut the drawer. No regrets, he told himself again. No regrets and no hesitation.

Sintara had followed the other dragons down to the banks of the river, and waded right in behind them. Mercor led them. She was surprised that all of the dragons seemed to accept his leadership, but especially Kalo. Hadn't he been claiming the role by virtue of his size only hours ago? The excitement that had infected them seemed strong enough to inspire them all to action. For now.

They walked all morning in the shallows at the edge of the river. Here the current was gentler and the water offered less resistance. She would have preferred to stay on the shore, but the thick vegetation of the Rain Wild Forest came right to the river's edge and sometimes ventured into the water in the form of straggling roots or fallen trees. For the most part, the dragons were large enough and strong enough to push past such impediments, but in mid-afternoon, they had to wade out into deeper water to go around one immense snag that projected into the river.

The trunk of the tree was immense, so large that she couldn't even see over it. The acid waters of the river were already devouring the fallen giant, but going around it still meant wading out so deep that the water tried to lift her off her feet. That was a disconcerting feeling. The first time it happened, she paddled and floundered, splashing wildly. One of the smaller green dragons, Fente, shrilly trumpeted her distress. The current caught her and for a moment she flailed wildly before successfully passing the fallen tree. She hastened for the shallows in a panicky gallop. When she resumed her steady plodding up the river, her breath still came in loud snorts. Sintara was glad she was taller and stronger than Fente. The river had not lifted her. Dragons could swim, but only by necessity.

She thought about swimming, and sluggish memories stirred. One was of a terrifying accident; a cliff's edge had given way and a dragon had fallen into a deep cold fjord. She had had to swim, and the steep cliffs that surrounded the fjord had defied her attempts to clamber out. By the time she had found a place wide enough to emerge from the water, she had been so chilled that she had barely been able to open her wings and flap them dry before flying away.

There were other memories of being underwater, and with a mental hitch and jerk, she co

She stumbled as a large rock in the riverbed turned under her foot, and the fragile thread of memory snapped. She groped desperately after it. It had been such a sweet thing, something wonderful to recall, and now it was gone. All around her, the other dragons waded on, huffing and grunting with the effort of moving against the current. Closer to the bank, the water was shallower and slower, but the mud at the bottom made it hard going. She decided the sticky footing was less a

The golden dragon was toiling steadfastly along. He was not as big as Kalo and Sestican, but here in the river he seemed longer. Perhaps it was how he strode along, his neck straining, his long tail lifted above the water. 'Mercor!' she called to him. She knew he heard her, but he didn't turn his head or slacken his pace. Scarlet Ranculos was only a pace or two behind him.

'Mercor!' she called again, and despite how he ignored her, she demanded, 'What do you remember about the Elderlings greeting us when we reached Kelsingra? I know that we circled the city three times, to let them know that we were arriving—'