Vivacia how she had known that she must abandon her post in Deception Cove and seek him out. He would not question what the serpent had done. He would not try to change the groveling deference the crew was currently showing him.
There was a tap at the door and Etta entered. Her eyes went to Wintrow and then back to Kennit. 'I've a bath waiting for you,' she said, and then her words halted. She looked at him as if she did not know what name to call him by. He had to smile at that.
'That is good. Keep watch here, with him. Do whatever you think wise to make him easy. Keep giving him water whenever he stirs. I'll be back soon. I can manage my bath by myself.'
'I put out dry clothes for you,' she managed to say. 'And hot food awaits you. Sorcor is abroad, asking to see you. I didn't know what to say to him. The lookout on the Marietta saw it all. Sorcor was going to have him flogged for lying. I told him the sailor wasn't lying…' Her words ran out.
He looked at her. She had changed into a loose woolen robe. Her wet hair was smoothed to her skull, reminding him of a seal's head. She stared at him. Her scalded hands were clutched together in front of her. Her breath came short and fast.
'And what else?' he prompted her gently.
She moistened her lips and held out her hand. 'This was in my boot. When I changed. I think… it must have come from the Others Island.'
She held out her hands toward him. Cupped in them, no bigger than a quail's egg, was a baby. The infant was curled tight in sleep, eyes closed, lashes on his cheeks, tiny round knees drawn up to his chest. Whatever it was carved from mimicked perfectly the fresh pink of young flesh. A tiny serpentine tail wrapped its body.
'What does it mean?' Etta demanded, her voice quavering.
Kennit touched it with a fingertip, his weathered skin dark against it. 'I think we both know, don't we?' he asked her solemnly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Trehaug
'I LIKE IT HERE. IT'S LIKE LIVING IN A TREE-HOUSE CITY.' SELDEN WAS sitting on the foot of the divan where she lay. He bounced thoughtfully as he spoke. Where did he get the energy? Malta wished her mother would come in and shoo him away.
'I always thought you belonged in a tree,' Malta teased her brother weakly. 'Why don't you go and play somewhere?' He gave her an owly stare, then smiled cautiously. He looked around the sitting room, then edged closer to her on the divan. He sat on her foot and she winced and pulled it away. She still ached all over.
Selden leaned too close to her and whispered in her face, 'Malta? Promise me something?'
She leaned back from him. He'd been eating spiced meat. 'What?'
He glanced around again. 'When you and Reyn get married, can I live here with you in Trehaug?'
She didn't tell him how unlikely it was that she would ever marry Reyn. 'Why?' she asked him.
He sat up straight, swinging his feet now. 'I like it here. There are boys to play with, and I get to have my lessons with some of the Khuprus sons. I love the swinging bridges. Mother is always afraid I'll fall off them, but most of them have nets strung under them as well. I like watching the fire birds spoon in the shallows of the river.' He paused, then added boldly, 'I like it that not everyone here is so worried all the time.' He leaned even closer and added, 'And I like the old city. I sneaked into it last night, with Wilee, after everyone else was asleep. It's spooky. I loved it.'
'Were you in the city when it quaked last night?'
'That was the best part!' His eyes were alight with the adventure.
'Well, don't do it again. And don't tell Mama,' she warned him automatically.
'Do I look stupid?' he demanded in a superior way.
'Yes,' she confirmed.
He grinned. 'I'm going to go find Wilee. He promised to take me out in one of the thick boats, if we could sneak one.'
'Watch out, or the river will eat it from under you.'
He gave her a worldly look. 'That's a myth. Oh, if there was a quake and the river ran white, then it might eat it fast. But Wilee says a thick boat will last ten days, sometimes more if the river runs regular. They last even longer if you pull them out at night, turn them upside down and piss on them.'
'Ew. That is probably another myth, one told to make you look foolish when you repeat it.'
'No. Wilee and I saw the men pissing on the boats two nights ago.'
'Go away, dirty boy.' She tugged her coverlet away from him.
He stood up. 'Can I live with you, after you marry Reyn? I never want to go back to Bingtown.'
'We'll see,' she said firmly. Go back to Bingtown? She wondered if there even was a Bingtown. There had been no word from Grandmother since they arrived, and there wasn't likely to be. The only messages the birds carried back and forth had to do with the war. The Kendry that had ferried them up the river was the only liveship making the run. The others were all on patrol near the mouth of the river and around Bingtown Harbor, trying to drive off not only Chalcedean galleys but sea serpents. Lately the waters near the river mouth were infested with them.
As abruptly as a bird taking flight, Selden hopped off the divan and left the chamber. She shook her head as she looked after him. He had recovered so swiftly. More than recovered; he had suddenly become a person. Was that what parents meant when they said children grew up so fast? She felt almost sentimental about her annoying little brother. She wondered, wryly, if that meant she were growing up, too.
She leaned back on the divan and closed her eyes again. The windows of the chamber were open and the river air flowed in one and out the other. She had almost become accustomed to the smell. Someone scratched lightly at the door, then entered.
'Well. You look much better today.' The healer was chronically optimistic.
'Thank you.' Malta didn't open her eyes. The woman didn't wear a veil. Her face had the pebbled texture of a muffin. The skin of her hands was as rough as the pads of a dog's feet. It made Malta's flesh crawl when the woman touched her. 'I feel sure that all I need is more rest,' Malta added in the hopes of being left alone.
'To lie still is actually the worst thing for you right now. Your vision has returned to normal, you told me. You no longer see two of everything?'
'My vision seems fine,' Malta assured her.
'You are eating well, and your food agrees with you?'
'Yes.'
'Your dizziness has gone?'
'It only bothers me if I move suddenly.'
'Then you should be up and about.' The woman cleared her throat, a wet sound. Malta tried not to flinch. The healer snorted loudly, as if catching her breath, then went on, 'You've no broken bones that we can find. You need to get up and move about, to remind your limbs of how to work. If you lie still too long, the body forgets. You may cripple yourself.' A sour reply would only make the woman more insistent. 'Perhaps I shall feel up to it this afternoon.'
'Sooner than that. I will send someone to walk you. It is what you need, in order to heal. I have done my part. Now you must do yours.'
'Thank you,' Malta said distantly. The healer was singularly unsympathetic for one of her profession. Malta would be asleep when the healer's assistant arrived. She doubted anyone would disturb her. That had been her injury's sole benefit; since then, she had been able to sleep free of dreams. Sleep was escape once more. In sleep, she could forget Reyn's distrust of her, her father's captivity or death, even the smell of Bingtown burning. She could forget that she and her family were paupers now, herself forfeit to a bargain made before she was born. She could hide from her failures.
She listened to the scuff of the healer's retreating footsteps. She tried to will herself down into sleep, but her peace had been broken too thoroughly. First, her mother had come this morning, heavy with grief and worry,
