The Dragon Keeper

Page 53

“But live we do!” Mercor broke in angrily on Kalo’s rant. “And dragons we are. Not slaves, not pets. Nor are we cattle, for humans to slaughter and butcher and sell off to the highest bidder.”
Sestican flared the diminutive spikes on his neck. “Who even dares think of such a thing!”
“Oh, let us not be fools as well as cripples,” Mercor returned sarcastically. “There are plenty of humans who are unable to comprehend us when we speak to them. And some of them judge us little more than beasts, and unhealthy ones at that. I’ve overheard their words; there are those who would buy our flesh, our scales, our teeth, any parts of our bodies for their elixirs and potions. What do you think happened to that poor fool Gresok? Kalo and Ranculos know, even if Kalo chooses to pretend ignorance. Humans killed him, thinking to butcher him for trophies. They did not know we would be able to sense him dying. How many of them were there, Kalo? Enough humans to make you a good meal even after you’d devoured Gresok?”
“There were three.” Ranculos was the one who spoke. “Three we caught, and one who fled.”
“Were they Rain Wilders?” Mercor demanded.
Ranculos blew out a snort of disdain. “I did not ask them. They were guilty of slaying a dragon, and I saw that they paid for it.”
“A pity we do not know. We might have a better idea of how much we can trust the Rain Wilders if we knew. Because we are going to need their help, much as it distresses me to say so.”
“Their help? Their help is next to worthless. They bring us food that is half rotted or merely the scraps of their kill. And there is never enough of it. What can humans help us with?”
Mercor’s reply was deceptively placid. “They can help us go to Kelsingra.”
A chorus of dragons replied all at once.
“Kelsingra may not even exist anymore.”
“We don’t know where it is. Our memories are of small use in finding our way there. We could not have found our way here to the cocooning grounds unassisted. Everything is changed.”
“Why would humans help us go to Kelsingra?”
“Kelsingra! Kelsingra! Kelsingra!” prattled the depraved dragon at the edge of the huddle.
“Make that fool be silent!” Kalo roared, and there was a sudden yelp of pain as someone did just that. “Why would humans help us go to Kelsingra?” he repeated.
“Because we would make them think it was their own idea. Because we would make them want to take us there.”
“How? Why?”
It was full dark now. Even Sintara’s keen eyes could not see Mercor’s face, but his amusement filled his voice. “We would make them greedy. You have seen how willingly they dig and delve here in the hopes of unearthing Elderling treasure. We would tell them that Kelsingra was three times the size of Cassarick and that the Elderling treasury was there.”
“Elderling treasury?” Kalo asked.
“We would lie to them,” Mercor explained patiently. “To make them want to take us there. We know they want to be rid of us. If we leave it to them, they will let us slowly starve to death or leave us living in our own filth until disease claims us. This way, we offer them the chance to be rid of us, and to profit at the same time. They will be willing to help us, because they will think we are guiding them to riches.”
“But we don’t know the way,” Kalo bellowed in frustration. “And if they knew of an Elderling city to plunder, they would have done so by now. So they don’t know where Kelsingra is either.” He lowered his voice and added dismally, “Everything is changed, Mercor. Kelsingra may be buried under mud and trees just as Trehaug and Cassarick are now. Even if we could find our way back to it, what good would it do us?”
“Kelsingra was at a much higher elevation than either Trehaug or Cassarick. Do not you recall the view from the mountain cliffs behind the city? Perhaps the mud that flowed and buried these cities did not cover Kelsingra. Or perhaps it was upstream of the mudflow. Anything is possible. It is even conceivable that Elderlings survived there. Not dragons, no, for if any of the dragons had lived, we would have heard them by now. But the city may still be there, and the fertile croplands, and the plain beyond teeming with antelope and other herd beasts. It may all be there, just waiting for us to return.”
“Or nothing might be there,” Kalo replied sourly.
“Well, nothing is what we have here, so what do we have to lose?” Mercor demanded stolidly.
“Why do we need the humans’ help at all?” Sintara asked into the quiet. “If we wish to go to Kelsingra, why don’t we just go?”