Wiping his face with his sleeve, Giles nodded.
Evander walked along the dragon’s spine to its shoulders, where Samara was holding the reins, her tongue between her teeth.
Everyone on the Dread Five crew wore a safety tether, clipped to a metal ring at their station. Except Evander. His tether was fastened to a line running from the dragon’s neck to its tail, so he could walk up and down the creature’s body, observing, commanding, and sometimes snatching fifteen-year-old boys before they cracked their heads.
“They respond better to positive feedback,” Samara said.
“Positive feedback?” Evander scoffed. “They’re going to battle. It won’t be very positive when sparksparrows are gutting them in the sky.”
“Yes, that’s exactly the kind of unhelpful thing I’m talking about,” she said. “What did your captain tell you when you were in training?”
Evander laughed. “Where I grew up, positive meant you had a disease.”
Samara lifted one shoulder. “If you don’t trust us, we can’t trust you.”
“Then earn my trust.”
“You earn ours first.”
By the time Dread Five landed in the paddocks, half the crew were dangling from their safety tethers, two were bleeding, though Evander didn’t know why, and all of them were angry and demoralized.
Evander wandered down the sundried boardwalk into town. His boots echoed on the gray planks, and a salty breeze blew cool against his sweaty neck.
He was not an emotional man. He was not an angry man. Or he hadn’t been a week ago. But wearing a uniform, commanding soldiers who didn’t care if he lived or died, smelling the salt of the sea again, like he had on the battlefield … old pains clawed out of old graves.
He found the tavern easily enough. It was a drab, two-story wooden box with blue paint peeling off the walls. The back end jutted over the marsh, and a heron waded in the shadow,hunting for tiny lobster fish. Inside was dark, the air heavy with smoke, sweat, and old ale. Villagers and soldiers crowded together, drinking and shouting, dancing on tables. Steeling himself, Evander pushed through the throng to the bar.
“I’d like a room for two hours,” he said.
The barman handed him a key. “Is there anyone you want me to direct to your room?” he asked.
“Yes. Send someone up with a bowl of soup and some tea.”
“And will anyone be joining you?” the barman asked significantly.
“Heavens, no,” Evander mumbled.
He winced as a chorus of tuneless song burst from a table nearby, and he glanced behind him to find the Dread Five crew dealing cards to some Sennalaithic soldiers. Haldir was among them.
The barman leaned forward. “Would you like me to send any of our young ladies up to …”
“Stars above!” Evander exclaimed, slamming his hands on the counter. “What does a man have to do in this wretched town to get five minutes of solitude? I don’t want to see anyone. Anyone. You know what? When you send someone up with my dinner, have them leave it outside the door so I don’t even have to see them. Clear?”
“Absolutely, Captain.”
Evander paid for the room and the food and ran up the stairs two at a time. He shut the door against the noise and sagged against it with a sigh of relief. Then he threw himself on the bed. For a long moment, he lay still and drank in the glorious, glorious silence.
A timid knock grated his nerves, and he waited for the footsteps to recede down the stairs before he snuck to the door likea woodland hermit, snatched the soup, bread, and tea, and slunk inside again.
Hunching at a little table by the cast-iron stove, Evander ate gratefully. The soup was rich and meaty, the bread thick and sprinkled with salt. Rain ticked against the window. No one spoke to him, no one complained, no one asked him any stupid questions he’d already answered a dozen times. It was paradise.
Evander was just raising the flower-painted teacup to his lips when a commotion erupted downstairs. With an irritated grumble, he set the cup on the table, planted his hand on his knee, and said aloud, “It doesn’t concern you. Shut it out.”
Something shattered, and furniture scraped, followed by swearing, and the thud of bodies on hollow wooden floors. Then someone screamed, “Stop it! You’ll kill her!” followed by a strangled shriek that sounded familiar.
Then, clear as day, “Bournemuth, stop! You’ll kill the girl!”
Rage blinding him, Evander brought his fist down on the table and growled, “Haldir!” as he shot to his feet and stormed to the door.
