“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.”

The captain’s eyes had gone flinty. He spoke quietly. “Eider. Bring him aboard and set him down.”

As if he were a derrick moving freight, Eider turned and dropped Greft on the deck. Greft staggered two steps, then straightened up. He glared around at all of them defiantly.

Sylve abruptly pushed her way into the ring of bystanders. “I was with Mercor. I heard you demand blood. And I heard Kalo refuse you.”

She was pale and shaking, and for the first time Thymara saw how much Sylve feared Greft. She didn’t want to wonder why. Harrikin ghosted up behind the girl and set his hands lightly on her shoulders. “It’s all right,” he said reassuringly.

“No. It’s not.” Her voice trembled, but she faced Greft squarely. “I heard what Kalo said. He said he wouldn’t give you blood because he no longer trusted you. That you might not want the blood to change, but only to sell.” Her hand darted out and seized the front of his torn shirt. She tore at his pocket, and a small glass bottle fell with a thunk and then rolled in a circle on the deck. It was empty. She pointed at it. “It doesn’t take a bottle of blood to change someone, only a few drops. So what was that for, Greft? Do we have a traitor in our midst?”