Dragon Haven

“Me? Perhaps,” he said roughly. “Is that so unthinkable?”



She suddenly recalled the night that Greft’s words had driven Tats from the fire, and how Jerd had risen and left shortly after that. And the next day, the two had shared a boat, and for several days after that…Understanding suddenly stilled her. Tats spreading his blankets near Jerd’s, sitting by her during the evening meals. How could she not have seen what it meant? Jealousy flared in her, but before its heat could scorch her heart, ice chilled and broke it. What a fool she was! Of course that would be how it was, probably from the very first night they’d left Trehaug. Jerd, Greft, Tats, all of them had discarded the rules. Only stiff, stupid Thymara had assumed they still applied.



“Me, too!” Rapskal announced, materializing from the dark to make an unwelcome addition to their conversation.



“You too what?” Tats asked him unwillingly.



Rapskal looked at him as if he were stupid. “Me with Jerd. Before you, I was. Though she didn’t like much how I did it. She said it wasn’t funny and when I laughed at how messy it was, she said that only proved I was a boy and not a man. ‘Never with you again!’ she told me after that one time. ‘I don’t care,’ I told her. And I don’t. Why do that with someone who takes it so seriously? I think it would be more fun with someone like you, Thymara. You can take a joke. I mean, look at us. We get along. You never take offense just because a fellow has a sense of humor.”



“Shut up, Rapskal!” she snarled at him, proving him very wrong. She stormed off into the darkness, leaving them both gawking after her. Behind her, she heard Tats berating Rapskal and his protests of innocence. Rapskal? Even Rapskal? Hot tears squeezed from her eyes and left salt tracks on her lightly scaled cheeks. Her face burned. Was she blushing? Could she still blush or was it the flush of anger?



She’d been blind to all of it. Blind and stupid and trusting, simple as a child. It was so mortifying. She’d had some doltish idea that because she secretly cared for Tats, he felt the same for her. She’d known she was condemned by what she was to leading a life bereft of human passion. Had she believed that he would deny himself simply because he knew he couldn’t have her? Idiot.



And Rapskal? She was suddenly outraged in so many ways she almost choked. How could Jerd do that with simple, unassuming Rapskal? Somehow what she had led him to do spoiled him for Thymara. His sassy optimism and endless good nature seemed something else now. She thought suddenly of how he slept beside her each night, sometimes warm against her back. She had thought it a childish affection. Now a squeak of indignation escaped her. What had he been dreaming on those nights? What did the others think of their closeness? Did they imagine that she and Rapskal were tangling their bodies at night as Jerd and Greft did?



Did Tats think such a thing of her?



A fresh wave of outrage flooded her. She looked at the fire and knew, despite her wet clothes and empty belly, she would not join her fellows there tonight. Nor would she allow Rapskal to sleep anywhere near her. She whirled about suddenly and went back to her beached boat. She’d take her blanket and sleep near Sintara tonight. Not that she cared about the stupid dragon anymore, but even as uncaring as Sintara was, she was better than her so-called friends. At least she made her lack of feelings about Thymara obvious.



In her absence, Tarman had been driven up onto the shore beside the beached boats. The barge watched her with sympathetic eyes as she angrily pulled her blanket from her pack and took out her stored supply of dried meat. She didn’t want to share a meal with anyone tonight. The temptation of hot food suddenly threatened her resolution. She glanced at Tarman and wondered if Leftrin would allow her aboard to warm herself at the galley stove and perhaps have a hot cup of tea? She ventured closer, looking up at the ship. The captain was strict in maintaining his authority on his deck. None of the keepers boarded without an express invitation. Perhaps she might obtain one from Alise? She hadn’t had much chance for conversation with her since their mishap.



As the thought crossed her mind, she saw the silhouette of a man lower himself over the bow railing and climb awkwardly down the ship’s ladder to the shore. He was thin and did not move like any of the crew members she knew. He stumbled as he stepped away from the ladder and swore softly. She knew him.



“Sedric!” she exclaimed in surprise. “I had heard you were very ill. I’m surprised to see you. Are you better now?” Privately she thought that a silly question. The man looked terrible, gaunt and ravaged. His lovely clothes hung on him, and she could smell that he had not washed himself.