words aloud. Amber grinned at him, and Clef cut an uneven caper about the deck. 'Althea is alive!' the boy repeated.
'Believe it,' Paragon encouraged. 'The serpent has no reason to lie.'
Something dead inside him stirred to life. Perhaps, despite his defeat, she still lived. He had accepted the burden of her death due to his failures. Trying to live with that dereliction had baffled him. This reprieve unmanned him. Something very like a sob shook him, and despite Clef's astonished look, the weeping he had refused at her death suddenly clawed its way out of him. He dashed tears from his eyes, but could not control the shaking that overtook him.
Clef was bold enough to seize his wrist and tug at him. 'Cap'n, don't yer unnerstan'? She's alive. Ya don' need ter cry now.'
He laughed suddenly, the sound as painful as a sob. 'I know. I know. It's just-' His words abandoned him. How could he explain to a boy the rush of feelings that accompanied the restoration of his world?
Amber filled in other thoughts for him. 'Kennit would not bother taking her up only to kill her. He has to intend to ransom her. That's the only logical answer. We may not have enough to ransom the Vivacia back, nor the power and skill to take her by force, but we have enough to make a respectable offer for Althea and Jek.'
'We'll have to go to Divvytown.' Brashen's mind was racing. 'Kennit believes he sank Paragon. If we reappear…' He shook his head. 'There's no telling what kind of reception we'd get.'
'He's ne'r seen Amber 'n me. We could take the ship's boat up the slough on a high tide, an' make the offer an'-'
Brashen shook his head as he smiled down on Clef's valiant offer. 'That's a brave thought, but it wouldn't work, lad. There would be nothing to stop them taking the ransom and keeping you both as well. No. I fear there will have to be a fight.'
'You cannot win her back by fighting,' Paragon suddenly broke in. 'Nor will you buy her back with ransom. He cared nothing for your gold when you last encountered him. No. He will not sell her.' The figurehead twisted his scarred visage toward them.
'How do you know?' Brashen demanded.
Paragon looked away from them and his voice went deeper. 'Because I know what I would do. I would fear that she knew my secrets. Such knowledge is too dangerous for Kennit to let her go alive. He will kill her before he allows her to be taken from him. Yet, I do not understand why he took her up at all. It would have been far safer for him to let her drown. So there is a piece of the puzzle I do not hold.'
Brashen held his breath. The ship had never before been so open with him. It was almost as if a stranger spoke with Paragon's voice.
Paragon mused on. 'If he keeps her, he will keep her for himself alone, a treasure beyond gold's power to ransom. And there is only one place where Kennit keeps such treasures. Eventually, he will cache her there. Only one place is safe enough to hide that which is too precious even to kill.'
'Could you take us there? Could we lie in wait for him?' Brashen asked.
The ship turned away from them. He hunched his head down on his chest. The muscles stood out suddenly on his back, as if he waged some terrible battle with himself.
'Ser?' Clef began, but Brashen motioned the boy to silence. They all waited.
'We sail on the next tide,' Paragon announced suddenly in his man's voice. 'I will do it. What gold cannot buy, blood may. I will take you to the key to Kennit's heart.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – Courtship
'I WANT TO BE LET OUT OF HERE.'
Kennit shut the door behind him and set down the tray. With elaborate calm, he turned back to Althea. 'Is there something you need that you don't have here?' he asked with studied politeness.
'Fresh air and free movement,' she replied immediately. She was sitting on the edge of her bunk. As she stood, she had to catch her balance against the gentle roll of the ship. She kept one hand on the bulkhead to steady herself.
He knit his brow. 'You feel ill treated? Is that it?'
'Not exactly. I feel I am a prisoner, and-'
'Oh, never that. You are my most honored guest. That you would think otherwise wounds me. Come. Be honest with me. Is there something about me that offends you? Is my appearance frightening? If so, I assure you it is without my intent.'
'No, no.' He watched her struggle to formulate an answer. 'You are a gentleman, and not at all frightening. You have shown me only courtesy and graciousness. But the door was locked when I tried it and-'
'Come. Sit down and eat something, and let us discuss it.' He smiled at her and managed to keep his eyes from roving over her. She was dressed in Wintrow's clothing, and with her hair tied back, the resemblance between the two was even more marked. She had his dark eyes and his cheekbones, but her face had never been marred with a tattoo. She had probably put on Wintrow's clothes believing them less provocative than his nightshirt. Exactly the opposite was true. The rise of her breasts inside Wintrow's shirt stirred Kennit's blood to pounding. Her cheeks were tinged pink with her earnestness, yet an unnatural glitter in her eyes showed that she had not completely cast off the soporific he had been giving her. He uncovered her food and set it out for her, just as the ship's boy Kennit had once waited on the pirate Igrot. Strange parallels abounded, he thought to himself. He pushed down the thought and forced himself to keep his voice conversational.
'I've explained my concerns to you. My crewmen are not the genteel society you were reared in, I fear. To allow you the freedom of the ship would be to invite an affront, or even an attack of some kind. Many of my crew are former slaves; some were slaves here on this ship. They spent time in her holds, shackled, cold and filthy. Your family put them there. They do not bear Kyle Haven's kin much fondness. You say you were not responsible for his treatment of them, nor for his treatment of your family ship. But I feat it is difficult to make the crew accept that. Or the ship herself.
'I know that Vivacia is truly what draws you.' He smiled indulgently. 'If you were free to leave this chamber, you would rush straight to the figurehead. For I know you can't believe me when I tell you that Vivacia is gone.' From the corner of his eye, he watched her fold her lips and set her jaw, just as Wintrow did when he was crossed. It almost made him smile, but he kept his demeanor. He shook his head at her gravely. 'But she is, and Bolt would not be kind to you. Would she go so far as to threaten you with physical violence? In all honesty, I do not know. And I would prefer not to find out by experiment.'
He met her flinty stare with his warmest smile. Such black eyes she had. 'Come. Eat something. You'll feel more rational.'
A shadow of uncertainty passed over her face. He recalled that feeling. Igrot, the epitome of coarseness, would, after days of harshness and cruelty, suddenly pendulum back to contrived gentility. For a week, Igrot would speak to him with gentleness, instruct him in etiquette, and bestow on him looks of fatherly tenderness. He would praise him for hard work well done, and predict a bright future for him. And then, without warning, there would come the sudden, harsh grip on his wrist, jerking him close, and the roughness of the man's whiskered cheek sanding Kennit's face as he struggled in his embrace.
He felt suddenly vulnerable. Had he put himself in danger with the woman? He tried to find his open smile again, but could only gaze at her measuringly. She returned the look.
'I don't want to eat anything,' she said flatly. 'You've put something in my food that makes me sleep. I don't like it. I don't like the vivid dreams, nor the way I feel when I try to wake up and I can't.'
He managed to look shocked. 'Lady, I fear you were much more wearied than you knew. I think you have been sleeping off not just the effects of near drowning in icy water, but months of doubt and fear. It is natural that now you are aboard your family ship, your body relaxes and lets you rest. But… wait. Let me reassure you.'
He carefully seated himself on her chair. With fastidious precision, he ate one bite of everything on her plate, and mimed a sip of the wine to wash it down. He patted his lips thoughtfully with her napkin, then turned to smile at her. 'There. Satisfied? No poison.' He cocked his head at her and lifted one eyebrow. 'But why do you
