“So how is he here?” Mulcent says.
“A momentary lapse. I’ll correct that.” Solet raises his finger blade, thinks, and says, “No.” He draws a knife from the scabbard inside his boot and holds it out to Mulcent. “You should have the honor.”
Mulcent looks at the knife with distaste.
Jeryon says, “Either you’re as much of a coward as he is, or you’re smart enough to know that you won’t be able to ride this dragon without me showing you how.”
“How hard could it be?” Solet says. “He did it. It’s a horse with wings.”
“Horses don’t set you on fire if they don’t want you on their backs.” Jeryon says to Mulcent, “Let me go. Take me on again. I’ve always been devoted to the company. I’m sure you’ve calculated the profits of having a dragon rider. I’m your ticket to the Council.”
As Mulcent considers the offer, Solet slides between him and the dragon. “This was not our arrangement,” he says. “New or old.”
“You’ll get your bonus,” Mulcent says. “You’ll all get bonuses. So will the families of those who were lost.”
One sailor elbows another, they nod to each other, and they squat over the net. Two others join them in considering how to release Jeryon, but keep the dragon still.
Solet pushes them away and turns on Mulcent. “The gray is mine to ride.”
“If you killed the rider,” Mulcent says. “You failed.”
“I won’t let you have it,” Solet says.
“It’s not yours to let,” Mulcent says. “You don’t have anything. And don’t look to them. They aren’t your crew, either. All this is mine.”
“You’re the bread, Captain,” a sailor says, “but he’s the butter.” After a moment, they slide Jeryon out of the net. One stands him up while the others retie the lashes. Gray squirms her head around to watch.
“First thing you both need to learn about this dragon is,” Jeryon says, “nobody owns her. Comber!”
He drops as the dragon lashes the sailors with fire. They spring in all directions, crashing into others, setting their clothes and skin alight and scattering them as well.
In the confusion, Jeryon limps toward the tree line. Solet slashes at him with his finger blade, but a flaming sailor gets in his way and gets slashed. Solet gasps as fire spreads to his sleeve. He drops and digs it into the sand. Jeryon vanishes into the woods.
Mulcent is apoplectic. “He’s gone!” he says to Solet.
“He’ll be back,” Solet says, pulling off the remains of his sleeve. “He won’t leave his mount.” Pity we’ll be gone by then, he thinks. I really should finish him off.
Solet looks around for someone to bring the dragon aboard the Gamo, but they are obviously occupied. Jos, Kley, and the captain of the Kolos have triaged the injured and pushed the burning dead into the sea.
Solet shakes his head and squats beside the dragon. A patch of net has burned away, but not enough for the dragon to escape.
Mulcent says, “Are you sure you should get so close?”
Solet says, “I don’t think I’m in any danger.”
The dragon says, “Eeee!”
Solet shrieks, leaps away, and smiles. He creeps forward again, saying, “Did you hear what Jeryon said?”
“That no one owns her?” Mulcent says. “Nonsense. Everything can be owned.”
“No,” Solet says. “After that.” He straddles the dragon, grabs her neck with his thick fingers, and points her face at Mulcent. “The command. Comber.” The dragon enflames Mulcent’s chest. Fire splatters up over his cheeks and drips into his crotch. His face starts to melt and his screams evaporate as he draws fire down his throat. He runs across the beach straight at Barad.
The lamp freezes. His eyes are wide open, but not seeing anything. Mulcent’s shirtsleeves wick the flames along his arms, which spread as if to grab Barad. His hands drip fire. Mylla charges out of the darkness and bulls her candlebox into Mulcent, knocking him aside.
Barad doesn’t see Mulcent stagger past him and, brought to his senses, head for the water. Barad turns to her. His lips pucker. She looks him straight in the eyes as they recall how to focus and says, “No.”
Solet and the dragon watch Mulcent collapse into the waves. “We are going to make a great marriage, you and I,” Solet says, rubbing its head. “I will call you Thea, after my sister. She is a ferocious woman.”
The gray wrenches its neck out of Solet’s hands. It sees something huge sliding behind the Gamo. It glimmers green in the firelight coming off the Pyg. Solet says, “It can’t be.”
Mylla and Barad hear a splash, a scraping of wood on wood and the rattle of chains as the bulk heaves through the shallows. They swallow their breath and slowly step away from the water.
Bodger and Gibbery bolt for the harpoon cannons.
Another concussion of wood on galley draws Sumpt from his cabin at last. He slams open the door. He coughs, his cheeks bulge, then he staggers to the larboard rail, where he bends deeply and vomits into the eye of the green dragon.
5
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