Page 537

SECRETS

T HEIR ESCAPE HAD forced them north, the wrong direction for fleeing to Divvytown.

The day was fading as Paragon caught up with the others.

Vivacia moved swiftly and surely to the fore of their little group of vessels.

Wintrow had clearly taken over command of the small pirate force.

Althea was proud of him. It was a shame his father had never seen his son as Kennit had, she thought.

No one who had ever loved Kyle Haven would have to look at what had been done to him.

Amber had silently helped her slide his body into the sea.

Althea herself had wiped from Paragon’s deck the blood his wizardwood refused to absorb.

She still did not know what she would tell Malta or Keffria.

She knew what she would not tell them. She felt sick and bloated with ugly secrets.

Althea lifted her eyes and studied the ships critically.

Vivacia led the way, sailing as only a liveship could.

The Marietta, Sorcor’s trim little vessel, strove to keep pace with her.

The battered Motley trailed them substantially.

Last came Paragon. Althea could feel that he still mourned the serpent.

Kennit was part of the ship now, and yet she could not deny her bond with him. A shiver, half shudder, ran up her.

Althea made her way aft to the wheel looking for Brashen.

She was not ready to be near the figurehead yet.

She excused herself that Etta stood on the foredeck, and undoubtedly wished to be alone.

As she walked the deck, Amber emerged from the hatch, carrying a pannikin of stew.

The smell of it sickened Althea. She could not recall when she had last eaten.

Semoy was on the wheel. He greeted her with a grin and a wink.

‘Knew we’d get you back,’ he claimed. She clapped him on the shoulder in passing, surprised that his welcome should move her so.

Wordlessly, Amber handed him the food. He gave the wheel to her and came to stand beside Althea.

Between shovelled mouthfuls, he nodded aft.

‘They still aren’t giving up, are they?’

Behind them the Jamaillian ships had sorted themselves out from Paragon’s rampage.

Some were giving chase. ‘I don’t think they dare,’ Althea replied.

‘As long as we have the Satrap and he’s alive, they can’t give up.

If he isn’t dead, all the rest of their plan falls to pieces.

They lose everything.’ She watched the enemy ships critically.

‘We’re right to flee. Some of those ships won’t last the night.

I’ve seen the effects of serpent spittle.

What looks like sound canvas will soon split and shred.

If we run, we can leave at least some of them behind.

Then, when we must fight, we’ll face a smaller force. ’

‘An even better hope is that we may lose them in the night.’ Brashen spoke behind them. ‘Even if we don’t, Wintrow has hostages now.’ A shadow came over his face. ‘I don’t think he’ll hesitate to use them.’

‘Hostages?’ Althea asked as Brashen came to join them at the aft railing. His face was grey; he looked as if he had aged a year in a day. Still, he put his arm around Althea and pulled her close. She hooked an arm around his waist.

From his tone, she could not tell if Brashen approved or was horrified.

‘At the last possible moment, Wintrow pulled a dozen or so men off the Jamaillian ship. Nobles, by their clothing. They should be worth something as hostages. But we’re right to flee until we’re in a position to bargain.

There are many places to hide in the Isles, and we follow three ships that know these waters well. We may escape death today.’

Semoy had finished his food. He thanked Amber and traded her the dish for the wheel. It seemed strange that such an ordinary exchange could occur on such a day. Peace seemed foreign to Althea now.

Brashen spoke suddenly, addressing Amber. ‘Ornamental?’ he asked accusingly.

She shrugged, and there was wonder in her strange eyes. ‘I pegged the axe in place. I never dreamed he’d be able to take it out and use it.’ She shook her head. ‘The more I know of it, the stranger stuff is wizardwood.’

‘Lucky for us he could,’ Semoy observed approvingly. ‘Didn’t the splinters fly?’

No one seemed ready to reply to that observation.

Althea leaned against Brashen and watched the distance widen between them and their pursuers.

There was so much to tell him, and absolutely nothing to say that was not said better with this simple touch.

Clef appeared suddenly. He stood before Althea and Brashen, and shook his head reprovingly.

‘In fronter the crew an’ all,’ he disparaged them with a disrespectful grin.

Althea assayed a playful swipe at him. To her surprise, Clef caught her flying hand and held it firmly to his cheek.

‘Good yer back,’ he blurted. ‘So good yer ent dead.’ As swiftly as he had seized her hand, he released it.

‘How come yer heven’t said nought to Paragon yet?

He’s got a new face, y’know. An’ an axe. An’ blue eyes like me.’

‘Blue eyes?’ Amber exploded incredulously. ‘They’re supposed to be dark brown, nearly black.’ She suddenly spun about and hastened forwards.

‘Wizardwood is strange stuff,’ Brashen reminded her smugly.

‘Bit late to change ’em,’ Clef observed cheerily. ‘’sides, I like ’em. They’re kind. Like Mother’s.’ He hastened after her.

They were nearly alone now, if one did not consider Semoy.

The old sailor considerately kept his eyes forwards as Brashen kissed her.

Only for an instant did her memory of Kennit’s assault intrude.

Then she seized him and kissed him firmly in defiance, refusing any comparison between this and the pirate’s attack on her.

She would not let that stand between them.

Yet, when she released him, there was a shadow in Brashen’s eyes. He was too perceptive. He looked into her face questioningly. She gave a tiny shrug. Now was not the time to tell him. She wondered if it would ever be the time to tell him all of it.

He probably thought he was changing the subject. ‘So, why don’t we go forwards and assure Paragon you’re aboard and well?’

‘He knows that I am. But for him, I wouldn’t be,’ she replied.

The shock of seeing his eyes as he caught her had still not left her.

Kennit’s eyes. She had nearly shamed herself by screaming as the ship’s big hands had closed on her.

She knew Paragon had sensed it. He had not paused, but had set her swiftly into Brashen’s reach.

To Brashen’s puzzled silence now, she replied, ‘I will see him and speak with him in a quiet moment, Brashen. Not just yet.’ She made the beginning of an attempt. ‘Kennit is part of him now. Isn’t he?’

He tried to explain it to her. ‘Kennit was a Ludluck. Had you worked that out?’

‘No,’ she said slowly. Kennit was Bingtown Trader stock? It appalled her.

Brashen gave her a few moments to absorb that before he added, ‘We suspected since Divvytown that Paragon was Igrot’s fabled ship. Bingtown always denied the pirate might have had a liveship. But he did: Paragon. And in Kennit he had a hostage, to keep the ship subservient to him.’

‘Sa’s breath.’ The pieces were all fitting now. Her mind struggled to encompass it all. ‘So Kennit came home to die on his deck. To be one with his ship.’ A little chill of horror ran up her spine.

Brashen nodded, watching her face. ‘He always has been, Althea. I don’t think his death on the ship has changed Paragon, save to put him at peace.

He is finally one, a complete self. The dragons, the Ludlucks, men and boy, and Kennit are all merged into one.

’ She turned aside at that but he put two fingers under her chin and turned her face up to his.

‘And us,’ he said almost fiercely. ‘You and I. Amber and Jek. Clef. All we have put into him became a part of him, too. Don’t turn away from him now. Please. Don’t stop loving him.’

She could scarcely concentrate on his words. She had dreaded telling Brashen about the rape, but had resolved she must. Yet, how could she tell him, without compromising his feelings for his ship? The convolutions of her thoughts dizzied her.

‘Althea?’ Brashen asked her anxiously.

‘I’ll try,’ she said faintly. She suddenly didn’t care who was watching. She tugged his arms around her and stepped into his embrace. ‘Hold me,’ she told him fiercely. ‘Hold me very, very close.’

She had said she would try. With difficulty, Brashen did not press her for more than that. Something had happened on board Vivacia, something that kept her apart from him now. He set his chin upon her dark head and wrapped her in his arms. He thought he knew what.

Althea seemed to sense his thoughts, for she changed the subject. ‘The chop’s getting worse.’ She shifted slightly in his arms. He pretended not to see that she wiped tears on his shirtfront.

‘That it is. I suspect we’ve got a bit of a squall coming up. But we’ve been through storms before. Paragon’s a good ship for stormy weather.’

‘All the better for us to hide in.’

‘I think we’re gaining distance from the Jamaillians.’

‘They’ve doused their lights. They’re hoping to creep up on us in the dark.’

‘They’ll have to find us first.’

‘It will be harder for the Marietta and the Motley to keep pace with the liveships in the dark.’

‘They’re running dark, too.’

‘Vivacia won’t leave them behind. She’ll protect them no matter the risk to herself.’