“Run for the trees!” Thymara shouted, but by then only the dragon could hear her small voice through the thundering water. She saw the two women, hands clutched together, turn and begin to run.
“Too late!” she bellowed at them. She stretched out her head, seized Alise by the shoulder and snatched her off her feet. The woman screamed. The dragon paid no attention as she craned her neck and set her down between her wings. “Hold tight!” she warned her.
Thymara was fleeing. Sintara thundered after her.
Then the wave hit them.
It was not just water. The force of it rolled boulders and carried sand. Old driftwood was tangled with trees newly torn from the earth. Sintara was bowled off her feet and pushed along. A log thudded against her ribs, knocking her sideways. The churning mass of water carried her inexorably downriver. For a moment, she was plunged completely underwater. She struck out, swimming vigorously for what she hoped was the surface and the bank. All was chaos, water, and darkness. Dragons, humans, boats, logs, and boulders mixed and mingled in the floodwater. Her head broke free of the water, but the world no longer made sense. Sintara spun in the current, paddling desperately. She could not find the shore. All around her, the water streamed white under the night sky. She caught a glimpse of Tarman’s lights and saw an empty boat seized by the leafy branches of a floating tree. The immense driftwood log that had been the heart of the keeper’s bonfire floated past her, streaming smoke and crowned still with a branch of glowing embers.
“Thymara!” she heard Alise shout, and only then became aware that the woman still clung to her wings. “Save her! Look, Sintara, see her! There! There!”
She didn’t see the keeper girl, and then she did. The girl was trying to struggle free of a mass of floating brush. It had entangled her clothing. Soon it would engulf her and she would be pulled under as it sank. “Stupid humans!” Sintara bellowed. She struck out for her, only to be hit broadside by Ranculos as the water shoved him past her. When she recovered and looked at the floating mass of brush, the girl was gone. Too late.
“Thymara! Thymara!” Alise was shrieking, but her voice was full of hopelessness.
“Which way is the shore?” the dragon bellowed at her.
“I don’t know!” the woman shrieked back. Then, “Over there! That way. Swim that way.” Alise’s shaking hand pointed in the direction they were already going. Encouraged, the dragon struck out more strongly. She could not climb the trees for safety, but she could wedge herself between them and wait out the worst of this flooding.
“There! Right there!” Alise shrieked again. But she was not pointing to the shore, but to a small, white, upturned face in the water. Thymara’s hands reached out and up to her.
“Please!” she screamed.
Sintara bent her head and dragged her keeper from the river’s grasp. “Mine!” she trumpeted defiantly around Thymara’s dangling body. “Mine!”
Day the 17th of the Prayer Moon
Year the 6th of the Independent Alliance of Traders
From Erek, Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown
To Detozi, Keeper of the Birds, Trehaug
A message from Trader Korum Finbok of the Bingtown Traders, sent at the behest of and in support of a query by Traders Meldar and Kincarron, seeking more information about the departure of Alise Kincarron Finbok and Sedric Meldar on the liveship Tarman.
Detozi,
A small note. The families of Sedric Meldar and Alise Finbok are absolutely frantic, with both declaring that neither of them would voluntarily depart on an expedition that might take months before they return. Alise Finbok’s husband is on an extended trading voyage, but her father-in-law has been persuaded to put his considerable fortune to work in an effort to gain more information. If you know of anyone capable of traveling swiftly up the river and taking a message bird or two with them, they might earn a substantial reward from this.
Erek
CHAPTER FIVE
WHITE FLOOD
Leftrin’s hands locked around Jess’s throat. The hunter was raining body blows on the captain’s midsection. Leftrin thought he had cracked ribs from the beating and he tasted blood from his smashed lips, but he kept his grip. It was a matter of time. If he could throttle him long enough, the punishing punches would stop. Already they were losing strength and when both Jess’s hands rose to clutch at Leftrin’s wrist, he knew it was over except for that final stretch of endurance. The hunter clawed at his wrists, but Leftrin’s hands were toughened, not just by scales but by too-frequent immersions in river water. His scar tissue resisted Jess’s nails. He could not see Jess’s face, but he knew his eyes would be bulging by now. He squeezed harder, imagining the man’s tongue starting to protrude from his mouth.