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fabric and the seams of the garment had given way to the river’s acidity. So, the remaining rag was serving as parchment. It wasn’t very satisfactory. The ink she possessed had already been diluted more than once and when she tried to write on the fabric, the lines spread and blurred. But it was better than nothing, and when she had proper paper and ink again, she could transcribe all her notes. For now, she would not risk losing her first impressions of the place. She would record all she saw, to confirm it properly later. Her survey of the untouched Elderling city would survive anything that might happen to her.
Or to the city itself.
Anxiety made her grit her teeth. Leftrin planned to leave tomorrow morning to make the long run back to Cassarick and possibly Trehaug. In the treetop Rain Wild city, he’d collect the pay owed to all of them from the Rain Wild Council, and then he would buy supplies. Warm clothes and flour and sugar. Oil and coffee and tea. But in the course of it, he’d have to reveal that they’d rediscovered Kelsingra. She’d already discussed with him what that might mean. The Traders would be eager to explore yet another Elderling domain. They’d come, not to learn but to plunder, to find and take whatever remained of the magical Elderling artefacts and art. Looters and treasure hunters would arrive in droves. Nothing was sacred to them. All they thought of was profit. The hearth in this humble dwelling would be robbed of its tiles. The immense bas-reliefs on Kelsingra’s central tower would be cut free, crated and shipped off. The treasure hunters would take the statuary from the fountains, the scraps of documents from what appeared to be a records hall, the decorative stone lintels, the mysterious tools, the stained glass windows … and all of it would be jumbled together and carried off as mere merchandise.
She thought of a place that she and Leftrin had discovered. Boards of ivory and ebony, dusty playing pieces still in place, had rested undisturbed on low marble tables. She had not recognized any of the games, nor the runes on the jade and amber chips that were scattered in the wide bowl of a scooped-out granite stand. ‘They gambled here,’ she suggested to Leftrin.
‘Or prayed, perhaps. I’ve heard of priests in the Spice Isles that use rune stones to see if a man’s prayers will be answered.’
‘That could be it, too,’ she’d replied. So many riddles. The walkways between the tables were wide, and on the floor of the room, large rectangles in a different stone gleamed black. ‘Are those warming places for dragons? Did they come in here to watch the gambling, or the praying?’
Leftrin’s reply had been a helpless shrug. She feared she would never know the answer to that question. The clues that could tell what Kelsingra had been would be torn away and sold, except for what she could document before the scavengers arrived.
The plundering of Kelsingra was inevitable. Ever since she’d realized that, Alise had begged passage to the city every day on which it was clear enough for Heeby to fly. She had spent every daylight hour visiting and recording her impression of every structure, rather than rushing from building to building. Better to have a detailed and accurate recording of part of the ancient city than a haphazard sampling of all of it, she’d decided.
Now, she heard footsteps on the pavement outside and went to the door. Leftrin was striding through the empty streets, his hands stuffed under his crossed arms for warmth and his chin tucked into his chest. His grey eyes were narrowed against the sharp breeze. The cold had reddened his cheeks above his dark beard and the wind had mussed his always-unruly hair. Even so, her heart warmed at the sight of him. The blocky ship’s captain in his worn jacket and trousers would not have merited a second glance from her during her days as a respectable Bingtown Trader’s daughter. But in the months of their companionship on board the Tarman, she’d discovered his true worth. She loved him. Loved him far more than she’d ever loved her cruel husband Hest, even in the first heady days of her infatuation with the handsome fellow. Leftrin was rough-spoken and scarcely educated in any of the finer things of life. But he was honest and capable and strong. And he loved her, openly and whole-heartedly.
‘I’m here!’ she called to him, and he turned his steps her way and hurried to join her.
‘It’s getting colder out there,’ he greeted her as he stepped into the small shelter of the house. ‘The wind is kicking up and promising rain. Or maybe sleet.’
She stepped into his embrace. His outer clothes were chill against her but as they held one another, they warmed. She stepped back slightly to capture his rough hands and hold them between her own, chafing them. ‘You need gloves,’ she told him, uselessly.
‘We all need gloves. And every other kind of warm clothing. And replacements for all the gear, tools and food supplies we lost in that flood-wave. I fear Cassarick is our only source.’
‘Carson said he could—’
Leftrin shook his head. ‘Carson’s bringing down lots of meat, and the keepers are getting better at hunting in this new kind of terrain. We’re all staying fed, but it’s only meat and the dragons are never full. And Carson’s tanning the skin off every creature, but it takes time, and we don’t have the proper tools. He can make stiff hides that work as floor coverings or to cover windows. But to make serviceable bed furs or leather to wear requires time and equipment we don’t have. I have to go to Cassarick, my dear. I can’t put it off any longer. And I want you to go with me.’
She leaned her forehead on his shoulder and shook her head. ‘I can’t.’ Her words were muffled in his embrace. ‘I have to stay here. There is so much to document, and I have to get it done before it’s spoiled.’ She lifted her face and spoke before he could launch into the familiar reassurances. Useless to talk about it. ‘How did your work go?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘Slowly.’ He shook his head. He had taken on the task of designing a new landing for the city. ‘Really, all I can do is plan and make a list of what I need to buy. The river sweeps past the front of the city; the drop-off is immediate, the water is deep and the current swift. There’s no place to put Tarman aground, and nothing I trust to tie up to. Even with every sweep manned, we were carried right past the city and downriver. I don’t know if it has always been that way, but I think not. I suspect the depth of the water varies quite a bit and that when summer comes the water will recede a bit. If so, summer will be our time to build.
‘I’ve tested the old pilings that are left. The wooden ones are only shells, but the stone ones seem sturdy. We can go upriver on the other side, cut timber there, and then raft it downriver to the city. Landing the logs here will be the challenge. But it would be a waste of time to attempt it right now. We don’t have tools and fasteners to build the sort of dock we’d need before a large ship could safely tie up here. And the only place to get those is—’
‘Trehaug,’ she finished for him.
‘Trehaug. Possibly Cassarick. A long journey either way. I stocked the ship for an expedition, not to found a settlement. And the keepers lost so much of their basic equipment and extra clothes and blankets in that flash flood that, well, there just isn’t enough to go round. It’s going to be a hard winter here until I return with fresh supplies.’
‘I don’t want to be separated from you, Leftrin. But I’m going to stay here and keep working. I want to learn as much about the city as I can before the Traders descend on it and tear it apart.’
Leftrin sighed and pulled her in close. ‘My dear, I have told you a hundred times. We’ll protect this place. No one else knows the way here and I don’t plan to pass my charts around. If they try to follow us back here, well, they’ll discover that Tarman can move by night as well as by day. Even if they manage to follow us this far, they’ll have the same problem docking a ship here that we do. I’ll hold them off as long as I can, Alise.’
‘I know.’
‘So. Can we talk about the real reason you don’t want to go back to Trehaug?’
She shook her head, her face against his shoulder, but then admitted, ‘I don’t want to go anywhere that I have to remember that I was Alise Finbok. I don’t want to touch any part of that old life. I just want my life to be here and now, with you.’
‘And