But last night’s warmth had changed her most of all. Sintara had felt things happening to her body as the water heated it, mostly in her wings. There had been a spread of warmth and sensation, as if they were plants taking up moisture and standing upright after a time of wilting drought. She opened them now and rejoiced in how the sunlight touched and rebounded from their blueness. She could see now how her blood pumped more strongly through them. She flapped them, once, twice, thrice and with a lifting spirit felt how they raised her body out of the water. They would not lift her into the sky, not yet, but it now seemed possible that some day they might.
She did not want to leave the comforting warmth, but they had all agreed in their long night talk that when morning came, they would confront the keepers. What Greft had done was unacceptable. Kalo should have killed him, she thought again. If he had killed him and eaten him, it would not have come to this. That a human had dared come among them by night, by stealth, not to serve but to take blood and scales from them, as if they were cows to be milked or sheep to be shorn, demonstrated how deeply flawed the relationship had become. It was time to end it, once and for all.
When they had left Trehaug, there had been thirteen dragons, for she had not counted Relpda or Spit as dragons then. Now fourteen gathered here still, despite the loss of Heeby. Fourteen dragons, all stronger and more capable than when they had left Trehaug. Fourteen dragons who would not be considered as anything less than dragons ever again.
They waded purposefully out to the barge in the strengthening dawn. She smelled smoke; someone on board had started a cook fire. On deck, Carson and Sedric looked down on them. The Bingtown man’s heart shone in his eyes as he smiled down on the beauty of his dragon. He, at least, had a proper attitude for a human to bear toward dragons.
“Awake and attend us!” Mercor trumpeted, shattering the quiet of the dawn. A flock of waterfowl, startled, flew up from a bank of reeds. Squawking, they fled upriver. Kalo set his shoulder to the barge and gave it a sudden shove. “Awake!” he roared. The humans inside shrieked louder than the ducks, while the two men on deck clutched at the railing in fear.
“Patience, Kalo,” Mercor counseled him quietly. “You will frighten them witless and then we shall get no sense or satisfaction from them.”
Perhaps that warning was too late, Sintara thought, for the humans came boiling out of the ship’s interior like termites from a crushed mound. The variety of sounds they made impressed her; some cursed, one wept, several were shouting, and the captain came out roaring threats at anyone who endangered Tarman. Alise was at his side, equally incensed. Waves of concern for her mate and the ship flowed off her wordlessly. No, Sintara thought. No, she hadn’t been mistaken. Despite the correctness of her attitude toward dragons, Alise was not a fit keeper or material for an Elderling. She had so quickly transferred all her loyalty to a human mate and a liveship. She watched the woman who had once professed to worship her as she ran her hands along the ship’s silvery railing as if she were soothing a flustered cat.
“Silence!” Leftrin roared at the humans on his vessel. Then he leaned over the railing and glared at Mercor. “If you’ve a problem with me or any of my crew, then speak it to me and hold me responsible. Touch my ship again, any of you, and I’ll put a harpoon in you.”
“Have you a harpoon?” Mercor asked in such intense curiosity that Sintara heard someone, perhaps Thymara, give out a wildly nervous giggle before stifling herself.
The captain didn’t answer his question. “What is your grievance, dragon?”
“Last night, one of your company came among us as we slept and sought to do harm to Kalo. Not just harm, but to take from him blood and scales, to sell to other humans.”
Leftrin didn’t dispute the truth. “It wasn’t me or any member of my crew.”
“Greft is no longer my keeper!” Kalo roared this out. Sintara was ashamed for him. He did not cover the anger and hurt he felt. How humiliating, to admit that the human and his loyalty had mattered to him.
“Very well.” The captain’s anger was actually helping him behave as if he were calm. Sintara could almost see it shimmering around him. “Greft is no longer your keeper. I’ve no problem with that. I do have a problem with your battering my ship!”
Kalo opened his mouth wide. For a moment, Sintara feared he would release a venom mist. Of late, all of the serpents had acquired enough venom to be dangerous, but Kalo was largest of all and had always had a bad temper. He probably could release enough venom to kill every human aboard the Tarman as well as do extreme damage to the liveship. On the deck, some of the keepers scrambled away in alarm. Leftrin crossed his arms on his chest and stood, legs splayed wide. Beside him, gritting her teeth so hard that they showed, Alise tucked her hand into his arm and stood beside him. As the keepers retreated to the stern of the ship, the crew moved forward to flank their captain. Even Tarman knew he was too ponderous to flee such an attack. She sensed one lash of his hidden tail, and then the liveship stood his ground, facing Kalo.