Sedric made a mildly agreeable noise and let her dither on. The beach didn’t merit the name. It was merely a slope of trampled and sun-baked mud that went down to the river’s edge. Soon enough, he’d have to be out there, following Alise about and taking notes for her. Traipsing around the piles of dragon dung and river flotsam. Ruining his boots, most likely. As soon as the men finished tying up or whatever they were doing, Alise would want to go ashore. He’d probably best go into his “room” and see about finding his tools.
“Yes. Yes, I was! You are absolutely glorious!” Alise shouted the words.
Sedric opened his eyes. Alise looked transported by joy. Beneath her multitude of freckles, her cheeks were flushed. She clasped her hands to her bosom as if to hold her thundering heart inside her chest. She turned to him, and he could see in her eyes that, in her excitement, she had completely forgotten their earlier disagreement. Seemingly transfixed, she exclaimed, “Sedric, she spoke to me! The blue dragon. She spoke to me!”
He let his eyes rove over the spectacle of reptilian creatures that sprawled or prowled on the muddy shore. “Which blue one?” he asked her at last.
“The queen. The largest blue queen.” She sounded as if she could not get her breath. She lifted her voice again. “May I come ashore and speak with you?”
“Queen? Do dragons have kings and queens?”
“The large blue female.” She sounded impatient with him. “That one, there. Next to the girl with the broom.”
“Ah. And how do you know she’s their queen?”
“Not their queen, a queen. All female dragons are queens. Just as female cats are queens. Now, please, hush! I can’t hear her while you’re talking!”
The creature was making a sound like a badly tuned wind instrument, but Alise seemed enchanted by its song. When the dragon ceased its mooing, Captain Leftrin seemed equally fascinated. “Let’s get you down there, then,” he said.
Alise was already in motion. She glanced back at him as she hurried toward the prow of the barge. “Bring your notebook, please, Sedric. Bring everything you’ll need to make a transcript of our conversation. Hurry!”
“Very well. I’ll be right along.” His own heartbeat jumped a bit at the prospect of finally walking among the dragons. He hurried to the makeshift stall that Leftrin had put together for him. At least it had solved one of his problems. Within the four rough walls, he had a modicum of privacy and access to all his luggage. He opened his wardrobe trunk and then pulled open one of the drawers. He’d prepared everything as carefully as he possibly could, hoping to provide for every contingency. He took out his lap desk and sat down on his bed to open it. The “bed” was little more than a raised plank with some semiclean bedding to soften it, but it was a place to sit, and far better than the canvas sling they had cobbled together for him to sleep in.
He checked the lap desk’s contents hastily. There were containers for ink of various colors, some empty and some full. Some quill pens already cut and others whole. His penknife, small and sharp. A generous supply of paper in several weights, and a bound sketchbook. A small box held charcoal sticks and several sketching pencils. He pushed two concealed catches with his thumbs and the bottom of the paper box came loose. He lifted it out. There were his specimen bottles. The larger bottles and the coarse salt were concealed in a different compartment in the base of his wardrobe, but for his first foray, this was enough. Perhaps, if he were extra-ordinarily lucky, by the time they returned to the barge, he’d have everything he needed.
When he returned to the deck, the others were already gone. How considerate of them! He suppressed his annoyance and went to the side of the barge. A coarse rope ladder was his means of egress from the boat. It was tricky to get down with his lap desk tucked under his arm, but he wasn’t about to toss it down onto the baked mud. And of course no one offered to help him in any way. Alise was already a substantial distance down the beach, trotting along by herself. That rogue Leftrin hadn’t even seen fit to escort her, had just dropped her off on a beach littered with dragons. How could she stand that man?
He dropped the last few feet to the ground and found the impact harder than he had expected and nearly lost his grip on the precious case. He crouched down to roll up the cuffs of his trousers, scowling at how foolish he’d look, like some sort of a booted stork. Well, better that than spending the rest of the day with his cuffs weighted down with foul-smelling mud.
And it was foul. There was no mistaking the reek of excrement. It combined with the brackish smell of the river and the rank smell of the jungle to make the air a thick soup of stench. Good thing he’d not had an opportunity to eat much today or his stomach would have rebelled completely. “Such a lovely place you’ve chosen for a stroll, Alise,” he muttered sarcastically to himself. “Off you go to frolic among the dragon dung with your river rat.”
