and ambitions with very few others.'
'You are telling me nothing with many words,' Paragon pointed out impatiently. 'What, exactly, are you?'
She gave a small laugh that had no joy in it. 'In a word, I do not know how to tell you. I have been called a fool as often as I have been called a prophet. I always have known that there were things I must do for the world, things no one else could do. Well. The same is true of every man, I do not doubt. Yet I follow a path I cannot see clearly. There are guides along the way, but I cannot always find them. I set out seeking a slave-boy with nine fingers.' She shook her head. He felt it.
'I found Althea instead, and though she was not a boy nor a slave and had all ten fingers, I felt a connection through her. So I helped her. May the gods forgive me, I helped her seek her death. Then I encountered Malta, and wondered if she was the one I should have been aiding. I reach forward, Paragon, through mists of time to symbols that become people and people who teeter on the verge of legend. There is a task I must do here, but what it is remains cloaked from me. All I can do is push toward it, and hope that when the time comes, I will recognize it and perform the right actions. Although there is little hope of that now.' She took a breath. 'Why are there dragons in you?' she demanded.
He felt that she changed the subject, deliberately. He answered her anyway. 'Because I was meant to be dragons. What you call wizardwood is actually a protective casing that sea serpents weave about themselves before they begin their change into dragons. The Rain Wild traders came upon encased dragons in the ruins of an ancient city. They killed them, but used the casings, rich with dragon memories, to build ships. Liveships they call us, but we are truly dead. Yet while memory lives, we are doomed to a half-life, trapped in an awkward body that cannot be moved without the aid of humans. I am more unfortunate than most, for two cocoons were used in my construction. From the time I was created, the dragons within me have warred for dominance over each other.' He shook his great head. 'I woke too soon, you see. I had not absorbed enough human memories to be strongly centered in them. From the time I first opened my eyes, I have been torn.'
'I do not understand. Why are you Paragon then, and not a dragon?'
He laughed bitterly. 'What else do you think Paragon is, save a human veneer of memories over battling dragons? In quarreling with one another for mastery, they allowed me ascendance. When I say 'I,' I scarcely know what I mean.' He sighed suddenly. 'That was what Kennit gave me, and what I shall miss most. A sense of self. A sense of kinship. When he was aboard me, I had no doubts as to my identity. You see him as blood-shedding pirate. I recall him first as a wild and lively boy, full of joy in the wind and waves. He laughed aloud, swung in the rigging and would not leave me alone. He refused to fear me. He was born aboard me. Can you imagine that? The only birth I have ever known was able to obliterate all the deaths that had gone before it. His father offered him to me, his birth-blood still on his skin. 'You've never been my ship, Paragon. Not in your heart. But perhaps you can be his as he is yours.' And he was. He kept the dragons at bay. You, you have loosed them, and now we must all bear the consequences.'
'They seem quiet. Dormant,' Amber ventured. 'You seem very much yourself, only more-open.'
'Exactly. Cracked open and leaking my secrets. What are you doing?' He had thought she was inspecting for fire damage. He had expected her to spider along his hull, not walk all over his body.
'Keeping my word, to you and to the dragons. I'm going to carve some eyes for you. I'm trying to decide where to begin to repair this.'
'Don't.'
'Are you sure?' Amber asked him quietly. He sensed her dismay. She had promised this to the dragons. What would she do if Paragon forbade it now?
'No. I mean, don't repair my face. Give me a new one. One that is all of me.'
For a mercy, she did not ask him what he meant by that. She only asked, 'Are you sure?'
He pondered a moment. 'I think… I do not want to be a dragon. That is, I do, but I wish to be both of them, if I must. And yet to be Paragon as well. To be, as you said, three merged into one. I want…' He hesitated. If he said it and she laughed, it would be worse than death, as life was always sharper and harder than death. 'Give me a face you could love,' he quietly beseeched her.
She went still and soft in his hands. The tension he had sensed thrumming through her muscles went away. He felt her do something, and then her bared hands danced lightly over his face. By her touch, she both measured him, and opened herself. Skin to skin, she hid from him no longer. He touched enough to know it was the bravest thing she had ever done. He stifled his curiosity and tried to reciprocate her trust. He did not reach into her and plunder her of her secrets. He would wait, and take only what she offered him.
He felt her hands walk his face, measuring off proportions. Then she touched his cheek flat-handed. 'I could do that. It would, in fact, be easy.' She cleared her throat. 'It will be a lot of work, but by the time we sail into Bingtown again, you will wear a new face.'
'Bingtown?' He was astonished. 'We're going home?'
'Where else? What point is there in challenging Kennit again? Vivacia seems content to be in his hands. And even if she were not, what could we do?'
'But what about Althea?' he objected.
Amber stopped what she was doing. She leaned her forehead against his cheek and shared the full depth of her misery. 'All of this was about Althea, ship. Without her, whatever task I was to perform becomes meaningless. Brashen has no heart to continue, nor has this crew the mettle for vengeance. Althea is dead and I have failed.'
'Althea? Althea is not dead. Kennit took her up.'
'What?' Amber stiffened. She set her hands flat to his face.
Paragon was amazed. How could she not know that? 'Kennit took her up. The serpent told me so. I think he was trying to make me angry. He said Kennit had stolen two of my humans, both females.' He halted. He felt something radiating from her. It was as if a shell around her cracked open; warmth and joy poured from her.
'Jek, too!' She took a deep shuddering breath, as if she had not been able to find air for a long time. She spoke to herself. 'Always, always, I lose faith too easily. By now, I should know better. Death does not conquer. It threatens, but it cannot subdue the future. What must be, will be.' She kissed his cheek, striking him dumb with astonishment, then tugged at his beard. 'Up! Up! Get me up on the deck! Brashen! Clef! Althea is not dead. Kennit took her up. Paragon says so! Brashen! Brashen!'
HE CAME RUNNING TO AMBER'S WILD CALL, FEARING THAT PARAGON HAD injured her. Instead, Brashen saw the figurehead set her gently on his scorched foredeck. She took a stumbling step toward him, babbling something about Althea, and then collapsed to her knees. 'I told you to take some rest!' he rebuked her angrily. Her damage from the serpent venom was appallingly apparent. Her tawny hair hung in hanks from a peeling red scalp. The left side of her face and neck were scarlet. How far the damage extended down her body, he was not sure. She walked with a pronounced limp and kept her left arm close to her body. Every time he saw her, he was shocked that she was out of bed at all.
He hastened to her side, seizing her right arm to steady her. She leaned against him. 'What is it? Are you all right?'
'Althea is alive. A serpent told Paragon that Kennit took up both the women from our ship. He has Althea and Jek. We can get them back.' The words tumbled from her lips as he held her. Clef hurried up, his brow wrinkled with confusion. Brashen tried to wring sense from the words. Althea was alive. No. That could not be what she meant. His grief and loss had penetrated to his bones. This offer of joy cut too sharply. He could not trust it. He said the harsh words. 'I don't believe it.'
'I do,' Amber contradicted him. 'The way in which he told me leaves me no doubt. The white serpent told him. It saw Kennit take up two women from our ship. Althea and Jek.'
'The words of a serpent, passed on through a mad ship,' Brashen scoffed. But regardless of his words, hope flared painfully in him. 'Can we be sure the serpent knows what it speaks of? Were they alive when Kennit took them up, do they still live? And even if they do, what hopes do we have of rescuing them?'
Amber laughed. She seized his shoulder in her good hand and tried to shake him. 'Brashen, they are alive! Give yourself a moment to savor that! Once you take a breath and say, Althea lives,' all the other obstacles are reduced to annoyances. Say it.'
Her gold-brown eyes were compelling. Somehow, he could not refuse her. 'Althea lives.' He tried the
