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.'

An ordinary conversation, discussing the obvious. It spoke too plainly to Brashen. She had been back on the Vivacia, and found her heart once more. He could not blame her. Vivacia was Althea's family ship. With Kennit dead, she had a much better chance of reclaiming her. And unlike Paragon, Vivacia had not embraced the anma of a murdering pirate who had done vast damage to Althea's family. When she had come back from Vivacia, he had deceived himself that she come back to him. Instead, she had come to share battle plans. Watching the distracted frown on her face, he knew where her thoughts were.

She loved him, in her way. She gave him as much as she could, without forsaking her ship and her family. He had no right to ask more than that. If he'd still had a family to claim him, perhaps he would have been just as torn. For a fleeting instant, he considered leaving Paragon to follow her. But he couldn't. No one else knew this ship as he did. No one else had endured alongside him. He could not make Paragon vulnerable to a captain that might not tolerate his uneven moods. And what of Clef? Would he tear the boy from the ship that loved him? Or leave him on Paragon, to be trained by a master who might not have his best interests at heart? And Semoy would not be first mate under any other captain. He'd go back to being a washed-up drunk, and lose whatever years he had left to a bottle. No. As much as he loved Althea, he had responsibilities here. She would not respect a man who abandoned his ship to follow her. Brashen Trell was finished with walking away from his duties. Here he must remain, and if need be, love Althea from afar and when they could.

In that acknowledgment, he suddenly knew that he did have a family again.

ETTA LEANED ON THE RAILING, STARING FORWARD INTO THE DARK. PARAGON could feel her there, though her presence was limited to the warm press of her forearms against his wizardwood railing. With no bond with her, he could not sense her emotions at all.

She broke the silence suddenly. 'I know a little bit of liveships. From Vivacia.'

He had nothing to say to that. He waited.

'Somehow, I don't understand how, Kennit was your family. When he died, he went into you?' Her voice tightened on the awkward words. He felt her trembling.

'In a manner of speaking.' His words sounded too cold; he sought to add something gentler. 'He was always a part of me and I of him. For many reasons, we were bound more tightly than is usual. It was very important, to both of us, that he come back at the moment of his death. I knew that. I don't think Kennit realized it until it happened.'

She took a breath. In a strangled voice she asked, 'So you are Kennit now?'

'No. I'm sorry. Kennit is a part of me. He completes me. But I am, irrevocably, Paragon.' It felt good to make that declaration. He suspected that it might be painful for her to hear. To his surprise, he felt genuine sorrow that he had to hurt her. He tried to remember the last time he had had such a feeling, and could not. Was this yet another aspect of being whole: the ability to feel sympathy? It would take time to adjust to feeling such things.

'Then he is gone,' Etta said heavily. He heard her take a struggling breath. 'But why couldn't you heal him as Vivacia healed Wintrow?'

He thought silently for a time. 'You say she healed him? I know nothing of that. I can only guess at what she did. It is what dragons can do, if they must. They burn the resources of their bodies to speed a healing. If Vivacia did that to Wintrow, he was lucky to survive it. Few humans have such reserves. Kennit certainly did not.'

Her silence lasted long. The night deepened around them. Even darkness was a pleasure to his newly restored vision. Night was not truly dark. He turned his eyes to the skies above, to clouds obscuring and then revealing the moon and stars. Phosphorescence outlined the waves. His keen vision, part of his dragon heritage, picked out the outlines of the ships he followed.

'Would you know something about him-Kennit? If I asked you something, could you tell me true?'

'Perhaps,' Paragon hedged. He glanced back at her. She had lifted her hands from the railing and was turning her bracelet restlessly.

'Did he love me?' The question burst from her, painful in its intensity. 'Did he truly love me? I need to know.'

'Kennit is part of me. But I am not Kennit.' Paragon debated furiously with himself. She carried a child, the child promised him so long ago. Paragon Ludluck. A child needed to be loved, loved without reservations.

'If you have his memories, you know the truth,' Etta insisted. 'Did he love me?'

'Yes. He loved you.' He gave her what she needed to hear, without compunction. I have Kennit's memories, but I am not Kennit. Still, I can lie as well as he did. And for better cause. 'He loved you as fully as his heart could love.' That was true, at least.

Thank you. As clear and brief as a drop of falling rain, the thought reached him. He groped for the source, but found nothing. The feel of the voice was oddly familiar, almost as if it came from Kennit, yet it was outside himself.

'Thank you,' Etta unconsciously echoed the sentiment. 'Thank you more than you can know. From both of us.' She walked swiftly away from the foredeck, leaving him with a mystery to ponder.

Ahead of him, on the Motley's deck, a lantern flashed suddenly. It was held aloft thrice and swung once, then masked again. It was still almost a surprise to have access to Kennit's memories. The old pirate signals were his to decipher. Brashen was summoned to the Vivacia.

'THIS HAD BETTER BE IMPORTANT,' BRASHEN GRUMBLED TO ALTHEA AS THEY bent to the oars. Etta and Amber manned a second pair. The gusting wind blew Amber's ragged hair past her mottled face. Etta stared straight ahead.

'I'm sure it is,' Althea muttered. They worked heavily, struggling against wind, water and the darkness to catch up with the lead ship. The four ships had closed up the gap between them, but they had not stopped, even for this meeting. Vivacia led them as they picked their way through a maze of small islands. Some loomed steep and rocky, while others showed only as waves breaking and running on a jagged surface. The ships threaded a meandering path through them. Brashen guessed that at a lower tide this route would be impassible. He prayed that both Wintrow and Vivacia knew this route as well as they seemed to.

Brashen approved the choice to put as much distance between them and the Jamaillian fleet as possible, but he still had reservations about leaving his ship to go to Vivacia. Althea had assured him that Wintrow could be

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