‘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 any more.’
‘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?’
‘As humiliating as it is to admit it, we will require their help. Some of us are barely able to limp about this mud flat. None of us can hunt enough to sustain ourselves. We are dragons, and we are meant to be free to the land and the sky. Without healthy bodies and the use of our wings, we cannot hunt. Some fish we can catch for ourselves, when the runs are thick. But we need humans to hunt for us, and to help those of us who are feeble of body or mind.’
‘Why not just leave the weaklings behind?’ Kalo asked.
Mercor snorted his disgust for such an idea. ‘And let the humans butcher them and sell off their parts? Let them discover that, yes, dragon liver does have amazing healing powers when dried and fed to a human? Let them discover the elixir in our blood? Let them discover what wondrous sharp tools they can make from our claws? Let them find that, yes, those myths have a sound basis in reality? And then, in no time at all, they would come after us. No, Kalo. No dragon, no matter how feeble, is prey for a human. And we are too few to discard so casually any of our race. Nor can we afford to abandon them as meat or as a source of memories for the rest of us. On that we must be united. So when we go, we must take every dragon with us. And we must demand that humans accompany us, to help provide meat for us until we reach a place where we can provide for ourselves.’
‘And where might that be?’ Sestican demanded sourly.
‘Kelsingra. At best. A place more congenial to dragons, with better hunting, at worst.’
‘We don’t know the way.’
‘We know it isn’t here,’ Mercor replied tranquilly. ‘We know Kelsingra was along the river and upstream of Cassarick. So, we begin by going up the river.’
‘The river has shifted and changed. Where once it flowed narrow and swift between plains rich with game, now it is wide and meanders through a bogland of trees and brush. Humans, light as they are, still cannot move easily through this region. And who knows what has become of the lands between here and the mountains? A score of rivers and streams once fed into this river. Do they still exist? Have they, too, shifted in their courses? It is hopeless. In all the time that these humans have lived here, they haven’t explored the upper reaches of the river. They want to find dry, open land as badly was we do. If humans could travel in that direction, they would have trekked up the river long ago, and if Kelsingra still existed for them to find, they would have discovered it by now. You want us to leave what little safety and food we have, journey through a bogland in the hopes of eventually finding solid land and Kelsingra. It’s a foolish dream, Mercor. We’ll all just die on the way to a mirage.’
‘So, Kalo, you would prefer to just die here?’
‘Why not?’ the big dragon challenged him sarcastically.
‘Because I, for one, would prefer to die as a free creature rather than as cattle. I’d like a chance to hunt again, to