Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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Following a somewhat threatening message from Kim to Hest’s father, “Final Chances” begins with the Chalcedeans pursuing Tintaglia continue their search for her. Hest looks on as the search continues, considering his increasing precarity and the likely prospects of Selden and Alise. The Chalcedeans espy a group of dragons come in search of Tintaglia and make ready to attack, and Hest assesses the likely outcome grimly.

The progress of the dragons and Rapskal along their search for Tintaglia is detailed. Sintara regards Rapskal with some annoyance and suspicion and considers the relationship between human and dragon. The attack begins.

Hest reels as the Chalcedean vessels come under assault. The order to abandon the ships is given, and Hest happily heeds it, fleeing into the trees. He notes the effect of the dragons briefly as he does.

Sintara and the other dragons continue their assault, delighting in it. Sintara continues to regard Rapskal with suspicion as he steps forth to call the Chalcedeans to judgment.

Hest heeds the command and, after being questioned briefly, is taken into custody and servitude, to be transported to Kelsingra. Dargen refuses to be taken captive, attacking; he is summarily eaten for his troubles. Hest and most of the others do not repeat the error.

Elsewhere, Mercor finds a flagging Tintaglia and reports that she has been avenged upon her attackers. In her mind, Tintaglia reaches for Selden and thinks she perceives his response from afar.

In Kelsingra, the keepers note the absence of their dragons, and they confer about the events and about the changes overtaking Rapskal. Work to clear the well begins anew, proceeding decently.

Leftrin takes a turn at the work, noting the progress and the increasing efforts necessary to maintain it. When he takes a break from the work, he notes the status of Malta, Reyn, and Phron. Alise’s arrival disrupts his reverie, and she reports her failure to find aid for the Khupruses. Leftrin issues orders for Alise’s care and returns to the work.

At length, the assembled keepers and crew are able to raise a bucket of Silver. The behavior of the material is described as the assembled witness it. And with that success, Leftrin sends the group off to rest.

Tintaglia continues to fade, considering her looming death. One of the dragons, Kalo, presents her with food before returning to the hunt for himself. She eats, strengthening and in pain, and resumes her progress towards Kelsingra. Kalo’s odd behavior strikes her, but she accepts it.

There is a bit of interest for me in a comment made by the Chalcedeans early in the chapter: “Dragons! A flock of dragons!” (225). One of the more entertaining quirks of modern Englishes is the hold-over from centuries past–and, indeed, earlier Englishes–of collective nouns, such as “a murder of crows,” “a pride of lions,” or “a murmuration of starlings.” It’s a small bit of delight in what is, for many, a tedious study, and one that has provoked no few jokes, some of which Melissa Gronlund points out here. Dragons, though, don’t necessarily have a stable collective noun; they’re not real, after all, and many of those found in English-language literature prior to Tolkien are solitary things. Even in Tolkien, most dragons are presented in isolation from one another; Glaurung doesn’t have much company, nor yet does Smaug, and Scatha the Worm is not presented, to my recollection, as being part of a group. (The assault of Ancalagon the Black and the other winged dragons in the War of Wrath is a marked event, to be sure, but it is marked.)

Admittedly, there have been some authors who have addressed the issue. McCaffrey, as memory serves (it’s been a while since I read Pern), tends towards “weyr.” Yarros, recently popular as of this writing, tends toward “riot.” Paolini is pointed about calling his dragon-group a “thunder.” I am certain there are others; there are limits to what I have read, and I wonder what D&D uses at this point (I’ve yet to play in Fifth Edition). What the “appropriate” collective for dragons “should” be, then, is not entirely clear. I do think, however, that the term used is indicative; the Chalcedeans regarding it as a “flock,” linking dragons with birds, says something about them. I can easily imagine the people of the Six Duchies calling a group of dragons a garden, and the Elderlings that are emerging will likely stumble into other, more ornate, terms if and as they develop a new culture in and around Kelsingra.

I note, too, the many divisions of the present chapter, most of which are quite brief. (Each paragraph in the summary reflects such a division, a practice common to this rereading series.) I am aware that the commonplace for such chapter-divisions is that they are roughly contemporaneous unless otherwise specified; that is, the short sections shifting focus between two groups or among more are to be read as happening more or less at the same time, with successive sections focusing on one group proceeding in chronological order. (Again, unless otherwise specified; I’ve read enough to know that authors sometimes like to screw with in-milieu time as they present events, and that doesn’t even factor explicit time-travel into things.) It seems a strange thing to my eye that Hobb accelerates action in the present chapter in such a way; yes, there’s a lot going on, but the interleaving at work is somewhat marked. I’m not at all sure why.

Maybe I’ll figure it out as I continue to reread on.

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