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Althea knew a moment’s hesitancy as she drew closer.

The ship was blissfully unaware of her as he played.

The figurehead had originally been carved as a bearded, craggy-faced warrior.

Years ago, a hatchet or axe had chopped away his eyes.

Now, despite the wild beard and shaggy locks, what remained of his face looked oddly boyish.

She had come to join Brashen and Amber in convincing him to once more confront the task at which he had spectacularly failed.

She was coming to take away this sunny day and the boyish creature playing his pipes.

She would ask him to do that which he most feared.

What would it do to him? For the first time since Brashen had suggested the plan, she truly wondered how it would affect Paragon.

Then she thought of Vivacia and hardened her heart.

He was a liveship. He had been created to sail, and if she could restore that to him, it would be greater than any trinket Amber had ever given him.

She refused to think about what it would do to them all if he failed again.

She smelled a cook-fire. Now that the summer weather had warmed, Amber did most of her cooking outside on the beach.

Within the Paragon, she had wrought a gradual change, some of which Althea approved and some of which horrified her.

The captain’s quarters now gleamed with polished and oiled woodwork.

The brassware had been buffed to a sheen.

The vandalized cupboards and wrenched hinges had all been lovingly restored.

The room was redolent of linseed oil, turpentine, and beeswax.

In the evenings when Amber lit a lantern inside the chamber, all was honey and gold.

Dismaying was the trap door she had cut in the floor that led down into the hold.

Both Brashen and Althea had been initially outraged on seeing it.

She had tried to explain to them that she had wanted swifter access to the holds for her supplies, but neither of them accepted that.

No ship, they explained, had a trap door in the captain’s chamber.

Even securely bolted and covered with a fine carpet, it offended Althea.

Amber had restored other parts of the ship as well.

The galley stove had been cleaned and polished.

Although Amber did most of her cooking on the beach, she kept her pans and supplies there.

How she coped with the cant of the deck, Althea was not sure.

Amber would only say that restoring these places seemed to make Paragon feel better, and so she had done it.

The entire ship had been swept free of sand.

Those bits of wind-flung moss and seaweed that had managed to cling to the ship had been cleared away.

She had burned cleansing herbs in smoke-pots throughout the ship to drive out both the damp and the insects.

Doors, windows and hatch-covers were all tight now.

All these things she had done before the re-launching of Paragon had been discussed.

For an instant Althea pondered that, then set her speculations aside.

‘Paragon!’ she called to him.

He took the pipes away from his lips and grinned in her direction. ‘Althea! You’ve come to visit.’

‘Yes, I have. Are Brashen and Amber here as well?’

‘Where else?’ he asked jovially. ‘They’re inside. For some reason, Brashen wanted to look at the linkage to my rudder. Amber is with him. They’ll be out in a bit.’

‘Your pipes are lovely. Are they new?’

He looked abashed. ‘Not quite. I’ve had them for a day or so, but I still can’t play anything. Amber says it doesn’t matter if I don’t follow a tune. Amber says that as long as the sounds please me, the music is mine. But I want to be able to play them.’

‘I think Amber is right. The playing of tunes will come in time, as you get used to them.’

The shrieking of disturbed gulls turned Althea’s head.

Far down the beach, two women were making their way towards the ship.

A portly man trundled along behind them.

Althea frowned. They were early. She hadn’t even broached the subject to Paragon yet, and soon he would discover it had been decided without him.

She had to get Brashen and Amber out here quickly, before they arrived.

‘What disturbed the gulls?’ Paragon demanded.

‘Just some walkers on the beach. I’d like to…uh, have a cup of tea. Do you mind if I go aboard and ask Amber for the use of her kettle?’

‘Go ahead, I’m sure she won’t mind. Welcome aboard.’

She felt like a traitor as he unconcernedly lifted the pipes to his lips again.

In a very short time, his entire life would be changed.

She scrambled up the rope ladder that was Brashen’s most recent contribution to Amber’s abode and made her way across the sloping deck to the aft hatch.

She was clambering down a ladder when she heard their voices at the bottom.

‘It seems to be in good condition,’ Brashen was saying. ‘But it’s hard to tell with the rudder wedged in the sand. Once the ship is freed, then we’ll have to check how it moves. Grease wouldn’t hurt anything, however. We could put Clef onto it.’

Despite her worry, Althea had to smile. Brashen had said that the slave-boy was an extreme annoyance to him.

Yet, somehow he seemed already to have slipped into the role of ship’s boy.

Brashen gave him all the small, uncomplicated tasks that no one else had time to do.

The boy had spoken true when he said he knew his way around a deck.

He seemed completely comfortable living aboard the derelict ship.

Paragon appeared to have accepted him much more swiftly than the boy had adapted to the living figurehead.

Clef was still very shy of speaking directly to Paragon.

A blessing, Althea decided, considering the secret they had been concealing from the ship for the last week.

Davad Restart had not been easy to persuade.

To Ronica, he had initially denied all knowledge of any bargains concerning Paragon.

Ronica had been unrelenting in insisting that he did know about the offers and counter-offers.

Moreover, she insisted that only he could negotiate this delicate contract.

When he had finally admitted that he did know of the bargaining for Paragon, Althea had left the room.

Disgust filled her. He was a Bingtown Trader, born of the same traditions she was.

How could he have considered doing that to a liveship?

How could he sink to tempting the Ludluck family with money to agree to so heinous a thing?

What he had done was traitorous, cruel, and wrong.

For money and for the sake of gaining influence with the New Traders, he had betrayed his heritage.

Beneath the disgust churned her hurt. Davad Restart, source of sweets and piggy-back rides when she was tiny; Davad, who had watched her grow up and sent her flowers on her sixteenth birthday; Davad the betrayer.

Ronica and Keffria had handled what she now thought of as a ransoming. Althea had not been able to bring herself to take any part in it. She avoided Davad, for she did not think she could speak to him civilly, yet she dared not offend him.

She dropped the rest of the way down the ladder.

As her boots thumped the deck, she announced, ‘The others are coming. Mother is just down the beach. I’m afraid Trader Restart has chosen to tag along as well.

I hope he has the good sense to keep his mouth shut, but I doubt it.

Have you spoken to Paragon yet?’ Her eyes were on Amber.

It was easier so. There was no enmity between Brashen and her, but no comfort either.

‘Not yet!’ Amber looked stricken. ‘I wanted you to be here. I did not expect the others so soon.’

‘They’re early. We could send Clef down the beach to them, to ask them to wait until we signal them.’

Amber pondered a moment. ‘No. I think the sooner it is done, the better. He will rant and pout, I fear, but I suspect that secretly he may rejoice too.’ She gave a small sigh. ‘Let’s go.’

Althea followed Amber up the ladder, with Brashen close behind.

Out on the beach they found Clef sitting on a rock before Paragon.

Clef’s face was bright red; he was trying to catch his breath.

Paragon blew on his pipe, making an abrupt farting sound, and they both went off into gales of laughter.

The ship lifted his free hand to smother his giggles, but the boy laughed loud and heartily.

Althea halted and stared. Behind her, Brashen joined in their laughter.

The Paragon turned blindly towards them and grinned. ‘So, here you are.’

‘Here we are,’ Amber agreed. ‘All of us.’ She approached the figurehead, then reached up a gloved hand to touch his forearm. ‘Paragon. We are all here because we want to speak to you about something. Something very important.’

The laughter faded from his face, replaced by uncertainty. ‘Something bad?’

‘Something good,’ Amber said soothingly.

‘At least, we all think so.’ She looked around at the others and then glanced down the beach.

Althea followed her gaze. Her mother and Amis Ludluck would be with them very soon.

‘It’s about a chance we have to do something good, with your help. We can’t do it without you.’

‘I’m not a child,’ the ship said. ‘Speak plainly.’ His anxiety was building. ‘How could we be together? What good thing?’