At that moment, a dragon’s roar of outrage pierced the night. Thymara felt the entire ship shudder under her, and she heard the querulous sounds of people jolted awake from a sound sleep.
Then the roar was followed by a man’s yell of terror.
She heard the slam of a stateroom door, and Leftrin shouted, “Hennesey! Swarge! Eider! Lanterns! What’s going on out there?”
There was another roar. This time she recognized the dragon’s voice. It was Kalo’s. She heard a high-pitched scream that wavered in the night, and then the sound of a loud splash not far from the ship. Kalo’s outraged words shocked her. “You are no keeper of mine, Greft! Never again will I speak to you! Never again will you touch me!”
“Man overboard!” shouted Skelly.
“I’ll get him!” That was Alum’s voice. Both voices had come from amidships. Thymara shook her head. She wouldn’t be the only one wondering how they both happened to be in the same place at the same time in the middle of the night. She heard a different sort of splash as Alum dove in. A moment later, the kindled lanterns were converging on that side of the ship. Without a word to each other, she and Tats joined the others gathering there.
Swarge lifted his lantern high. In the water, they saw Alum cover the last small distance between him and a floating body. She saw him turn the man over and heard him gasp out, “It’s Greft! Lower a ladder over the side.”
By the time Alum had towed Greft’s limp body back to the side of the barge, Swarge was on the bottom rung of a rope ladder, waiting for him. Together they wrestled his body aboard the ship. “Bring him into the galley!” Leftrin barked. Tats stepped up to catch Greft’s feet as they carried him. Halfway there, he began to struggle. They let him try to stand, and he stepped to the railing, coughing and spitting out water. Swarge waited patiently, lantern held high. Greft’s shirt was torn and hanging loose in flaps of fabric. Thymara glimpsed two long scrapes on his chest and one on his back.
“I’m fine,” he insisted abruptly. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding,” Thymara pointed out.
Greft rounded on Thymara, savagely angry, shouting in her face. “I’m FINE, I said. Leave me alone!”
Leftrin clapped a hand on his shoulder and abruptly spun him around. He let go of him and Greft nearly fell. Leftrin didn’t care. He barked his words. “You’re fine, and I’m captain. And that means you’ll tell me just exactly what happened a few moments ago.”
“It’s none of your business. It didn’t happen on your ship.”
Leftrin stood absolutely stock-still and silent. Thymara wondered if he was shocked, if no one had ever spoken to him like that before. But he did not so much as blink when Eider seized Greft by his shoulders, lifted him off his feet, and walked to the railing. With no apparent effort, he held Greft out at arm’s length over the side of the boat. Greft roared in wordless fury and clutched at the big man’s thick wrists. Thymara noticed he didn’t struggle. Like her, she suspected that Eider would simply drop him. Or perhaps he was too battered to offer any resistance.
Leftrin took a small breath and spoke conversationally. “You’re not on my ship now. I suppose what happens to you now isn’t my business either.”
“I went to check on my dragon. He got angry at me and picked me up and threw me. And I am not Kalo’s keeper anymore!” The last sentence he shouted defiantly into the night. In response, there was a roar of anger from the dragon. The other dragons echoed him, and a muttering of growls followed the exchange.
“That’s half or less of the truth. What happened?” Leftrin demanded.
Thymara had never seen the captain look so angry. Alise had appeared, wearing the Elderling gown that Leftrin had given her. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, her eyes frightened. Others of the keepers and crew were gathering around them. The deck was getting crowded.
“I went to see my dragon.” Greft was stubborn. His hands were tight on Eider’s wrists. Thymara wondered if the big man was getting tired of holding him out there.
“In the middle of the night?” Leftrin queried.
“Yes.” A flat answer.
“Why?” Leftrin wouldn’t let it go.
Greft touched the scrapes on his chest and looked at the blood on his fingers. “To ask for blood,” he admitted abruptly.
“Blood? Why?” Leftrin sounded shocked.
“Because I want to become an Elderling like the others!” The furious jealous words burst out of him. “I’ve heard the whispering. I know. The other dragons have given their keepers blood, to help them change. The other dragons are making their keepers into Elderlings. Yesterday I went to Kalo and I asked him when he would give me blood and take charge of my changes.”