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There was so little time to think. For him to vanish with the serpents now for all those months might undo all he had built.

Yet, he dared not refuse her this. Perhaps, he thought grimly, it would only add to his legend.

The Paragon was lowering a small boat into the water.

Althea Vestrit would be in it. ‘If I do as you ask, you will sink Paragon?’ It was harder to ask now, for he knew that she knew all the reasons he desired Paragon to end.

‘Tell me why you want him to be gone. Say the words.’

He took a breath and met her gaze. ‘My motives are the same as yours,’ he said coldly. ‘You do not wish Althea to come aboard, for you fear she would “bring you back to yourself ”.’ He lifted his eyes and stared at the Paragon. ‘There floats a piece of myself I could do without.’

‘Then it seems wisest, for both of us,’ she agreed.

‘He is mad. I cannot count on him to aid us; worse, as a liveship, he could follow us up the river and oppose us. He can never fly again as a dragon. So let us put him out of his misery. And end your misery as well, while binding you to me. Only me.’

Jealousy. This time it was unmistakable.

She would tolerate no rivals for his attention, let alone so potent a competitor as Paragon.

In this also, they were alike. She tucked her chin to her chest and summoned the serpents.

The sound she made was something Kennit more felt than heard.

Their serpent escort had lagged behind them to hunt and feed, but at her call, they came swiftly.

Soon a forest of attentive heads sprouted around them.

The green-gold serpent from Others’ Island came to the front of the throng.

When Bolt paused, the serpent opened her jaws and roared something back at her.

Bolt threw back her head and sang. Her voice battled against a wind that promised a storm to come.

There were several exchanges of moans, bellows and high, thin cries between the two.

Two other serpents added their voices as well.

Kennit grew restless. This had to be a discussion of Bolt’s orders.

That had not happened before. It was not auspicious, but he dared not interrupt her with a question.

His own crew was watching curiously. He glanced down to his hands gripping the railing, and saw the small face at his wrist staring up at him. He brought the charm close to his face.

‘Do they oppose her?’ he asked.

‘They question the necessity. She Who Remembers thinks Paragon might be useful to them alive. Bolt counters that he is both mad and a servile tool of the humans aboard him. Maulkin asks if they may eat him for his memories. Bolt opposes this. She Who Remembers demands to know why. Now Maulkin asks if the ship holds knowledge she wishes to keep from the serpents.’

Bolt was visibly angry now. Behind him, Kennit was aware of his gawking crew. Without turning his head, he warned Jola, ‘The men to their posts.’ The mate obeyed, sending them running.

‘What do they say?’ he demanded of the charm again.

‘Use your eyes,’ was the whispered retort. ‘They obey her.’

Brashen had remained on board Paragon. It did not seem wise for both of them to leave the ship, and Althea could not bear to be so close to Vivacia and not speak to her.

In the boat with her, Haff and Jek bent to their oars.

Lop, clutching a mooring line, sat in the bow and stared grimly ahead.

Althea sat stiffly in the stern seat. She was freshly washed and attired in the clothes she had worn when the Paragon had left Bingtown.

She resented the weight of the split skirt, but the occasion called for formality, and these were the best clothes she possessed.

Indeed, of all her garments, these were the only ones still remotely presentable.

The rising winter wind tugged hopefully at her plaited and pinned hair.

She hoped Kennit would not see her attempt at formality as hiding behind feminine garb. He had to take her seriously.

She clutched the scroll in her hands and stared at their destination.

On the foredeck of her beloved Vivacia, a single figure stood.

His dark blue cloak flapped in the wind and he stood hip-shot, all his weight on one leg.

It had to be Kennit. Before she had left Paragon’s deck, there had been others with him.

She had thought that one young man might be Wintrow.

She could not claim to recognize him, but the figure’s dark hair and stance put her in mind of her father.

Could it have been him? If it was, where had he gone? Why did Kennit alone await her?

Reflexively, she glanced back at Paragon.

Brashen stood anxiously on the foredeck.

Clef stood beside him, hands on his hips in unconscious mimicry of his captain.

Amber’s hair blew like silk strands in the wind, and her set face made her a second figurehead.

Paragon, arms crossed and jaw set, stared sightlessly towards Vivacia.

There was a terrible finality in the brace of his muscles.

He had not spoken a word to anyone since Vivacia was sighted.

When Althea had dared to reach out and touch his muscular shoulder, she had found it set and hard as wood.

It was like touching the tensed back of a snarling dog.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ she had told him softly, but he had made no reply.

A composed Amber, sitting on the railing beside her had shaken her head.

‘He’s not afraid,’ she had said in a low voice.

‘The anger that burns in him destroys every other emotion.’ Amber’s hair lifted slightly in the rising wind and she had spoken in a distant voice.

‘Danger cups us under its hand, and we can do nothing but stand witness to the turning of the world. Here we walk on the balancing line between futures. Humanity always believes it decides the fate of the whole world, and so it does, but never in the moment that it thinks it does. The future of thousands ripples like a serpent through the water, and the destiny of a ship becomes the destination of the world.’ She turned to look at Althea with eyes the colour of brandy in firelight.

‘Can’t you feel it?’ she asked in a whisper.

‘We are on the cusp. We are a coin spinning in the toss, a card fluttering in the flip, a rune chip floating in stirred water. Possibilities swarm like bees. In this day, in a moment, in a breath, the future of the world will shift course by a notch. One way or another, the coin will land ringing, the card will settle to the table, the chip will bob to the surface. The face that shows uppermost will set our days, and children to come will say, “That is just the way it has always been.”’

Her voice dwindled away, but Althea had a sense of the wind carrying the words around the world. Her scalp prickled. ‘Amber? You’re frightening me.’

Amber had turned a slow and beatific smile on her. ‘Am I? Then you grow wise.’

Althea did not think she could bear the steady gaze of those eyes.

Then Amber blinked and saw her again. She had hopped from the railing to the deck, dusting her bare hands on the seat of her pants before drawing on her gloves.

‘It’s time for you to go,’ she announced. ‘Come. I’ll help you with your hair.’

‘Watch over Paragon for me,’ Althea had said quietly. ‘Don’t leave him alone.’

‘I would like to.’ Amber’s long-fingered hand caressed the railing. ‘But today is a day he must face alone.’

Now, Althea looked back from the ship’s boat and wished Amber had come with her.

She tightened her grip on the scroll and prayed Kennit would be swayed by the carefully-penned offer.

He had to be! Everything she had heard of this man spoke of a resolute intelligence coupled with great foresight.

He had hung out a truce flag of his own, so he was open to negotiation.

He would at least hear her out. Even if he loved Vivacia, perhaps especially if he loved Vivacia, he would see that returning her to the Vestrits in exchange for trade agreements was in everyone’s best interest. Suddenly, Amber lifted a finger and pointed ahead of Althea.

At the same instant, Lop gave a wild cry, echoed by Haff who dropped his oar and came halfway to his feet.

Althea swivelled her head to see where Amber pointed and froze.

The sea around Vivacia bristled with serpents.

Head after glittering head lifted from the depths until a forest of serpents stood between Althea and her ship.

In the boat, Haff cowered and babbled, while Jek demanded, ‘Do we go back?’ Lop crawled through the boat and took up Haff’s oar hopefully.

Stricken, Althea watched the horde of serpents menace her ship. Yet what happened next was even worse.

Vivacia threw back her head and sang to the creatures.

Her throat swelled and she opened her mouth wide.

Inhuman moans and roars and trills came from her mouth.

The serpents’ heads swayed, captivated by her song.

After a time, they sang back as if ensorcelled by her.

Althea realized she stood in a half-crouch, staring at the figurehead.

Uneasiness squirmed through her. Vivacia spoke to them, that was plain, and they spoke back to her.

The face of the ship as she stretched her features to make the serpent sounds was alien, as was the unnatural lifting and writhing of her hair.

It reminded Althea of a serpent’s mane unfolding just before she shook venom from it.

Was Vivacia miming the actions of a serpent to convince them not to harm her?