“And there’s no time,” Bellin observed heavily. “If there are Chalcedeans crawling all through this town and they’re not getting rid of them, they’re welcome to them. The ship spoke to all of us, plainer than he ever has. He can keep that baby alive for now, but the sooner we get the child to a dragon, the better.”

Leftrin swallowed his mouthful of coffee. “It bothers me that a newborn baby needs a dragon.” He knew how the dragons had changed their keepers, giving each a few drops of blood or a scale to eat. But that was keeper business, and perhaps the secret was not his to reveal. Still, it was easier to talk about that puzzle than dwell on what it might mean to have the Council in league with Chalcedeans. How far had the Cassarick Traders fallen? Trafficking with Chalcedeans was forbidden. He’d known that when he’d felt forced to bring Arich up the river. Trafficking in dragon parts was worse; it was the breaking of a signed contract, an offense to the very core of Trader culture. That idea spoke of changes to Rain Wild society that seemed almost impossible to consider. Easier to ponder why a baby needed a dragon to live than to wonder what could persuade a man to betray his own people for money.

Reyn was the one who attempted to answer his question. “I don’t understand it completely myself, Captain.” He sighed. “Malta and I know that we changed, and her brother Selden changed, after exposure to the dragon Tintaglia. We’ve had years to think and talk about it. We think that being around dragons and the things of dragons, such as the artifacts from the Elderling cities, are what change people—even babies in the womb, if the mothers have been exposed. But with us, Tintaglia guided our changes and intensified them. So instead of deforming or killing us, the changes gave us grace and beauty. And possibly an extended life span, though that we can’t know as yet.”