the sight of them anchored in their harbor. The idea appealed to the ship. Let them gawk and shout at the sight of him come back from the dead. If there were any there that yet recalled him.
'The night is beautiful,' Amber said at last. 'And we are beautiful in the night. There is a moon somewhere above us. It makes the fog gleam silver. Here and there, my eyes find bits of you. A row of silver droplets hung on a line stretched tight. Or the fog breaks for an instant, and the moon shines our way up the river. You move so smoothly and sweetly. Listen. There is the water against your bow, purring like a cat, and the wind shushes us along. The river is so narrow here; it is as if we knife through the forest, parting trees to let us pass. The same wind that pushes us stirs the leaves of the trees. It has been so long since I last heard the wind in the trees and smelled earth smells. It is like being in a silver dream on a magic ship.'
Paragon found himself smiling. 'I am a magic ship.'
'I know. Oh, well do I know what a wonder you are. On a night such as this, moving swift and silent in the dark, I almost feel as if you could unfurl wings and lift us into the very sky itself. Do you not feel it, Paragon?'
Of course he did. The unnerving part was that she felt it also, and put words to it. He did not speak of that. 'What I feel is that the channel is deeper to starboard. Ease me over, just a bit. I'll tell you when.'
Lavoy came up onto the deck. Paragon felt him pace aft to where Brashen held the wheel. There was anger in his stride, and aggression. Would it be tonight? Paragon wondered and felt a tightening of excitement. Perhaps tonight the two males would challenge one another, would circle and then strike, exchanging blows until one of them was prostrate and bleeding. He strained to hear what Lavoy would say.
But Brashen spoke first. His soft deep voice carried cold through Paragon's wood. 'What brings you out on deck, Lavoy?'
Paragon felt Lavoy's hesitation. Fear, uncertainty, or simply strategy. He could not tell clearly. 'I expected us to anchor all night. The change in motion woke me.'
'And now that you've seen what we're about?'
'This is mad. We could run aground at any moment, and then we'd be easy prey for whoever chanced upon us. We should anchor now, if we can do so safely, and wait for morning.'
Amusement tinged Brashen's voice as he asked, 'Don't you trust our ship to guide us, Lavoy?'
Lavoy sank his deep voice to a bare whisper and hissed a reply. Paragon felt a prickling of anger. Lavoy did not whisper for Brashen's sake; he whispered because he did not wish Paragon to know his true opinion.
In contrast, Brashen spoke clearly. Did he know Paragon would hear every word? 'I disagree, Lavoy. Yes, I do trust him with my life. As I have every day since we started the voyage. Some friendships go deeper than madness or common sense. Now that you've expressed your opinion of your captain's judgment and your ship's reliability, I suggest you retire to your bunk until your watch begins. I've some special duties for you tomorrow. They may prove quite tiring. Good night to you.'
For five breaths longer, Lavoy lingered there. Paragon could imagine how they would stand, teeth bared, wings slightly uplifted, long powerful necks arched for the strike. But this time the challenger turned his eyes aside, bowing his head and lowering his wings. He moved slowly away, expressing his subservience, but grudgingly. The dominant male watched him go. Did Brashen's eyes glitter and spin with triumph? Or did he know that this challenge was not settled, merely deferred?
THEY DROPPED ANCHOR LONG BEFORE DAWN. THE RATTLING OF THE CHAIN WAS the loudest noise they had made since they left the river mouth. They had eased into place in the harbor, not too close to the three other ships secured there. All was quiet aboard the other vessels. Woe to whomever had been left on watch; surely, they'd be chastised tomorrow. Brashen had sent the crew below save for a carefully chosen anchor watch. Then he had ordered his second mate to join him on the afterdeck.
Brashen stood at the railing and looked toward the lights of Divvytown. They glinted like yellow eyes through the fog, winking and then glittering as the fog drifted and changed. One puzzled him, a single light, brighter than the others and much, much higher. Had someone left a lantern burning at the top of a tree? That answer made no sense, so he pushed it aside. Dawn's light would likely solve that mystery. The other scattered lights did not quite match his recollection of the town, but doubtless the fog had something to do with that. Divvytown, again. The noisome little town never slept. The fog carried odd bits of distorted sound to his ears. Cheerful shouts, a snatch of drunken song, a dog barking. Brashen yawned. He wondered if he dared to try for a few hours' sleep before dawn revealed the Paragon and his crew to Divvytown.
Bare feet padded up softly behind him. 'She's not here,' Althea whispered disappointedly. 'At least, I've seen no sign of her in the harbor…'
'No. I don't think Vivacia is anchored here tonight. That would have been expecting too much luck. But she was here the last time I was, and I think it likely she'll be here again. Patience.' He turned to her. In the concealing fog, he dared to catch her hand and pull her closer. 'What were you imagining? That we'd find her here, tonight, and somehow manage to spirit her away without a fight?'
'A child's dream,' Althea admitted. Momentarily, she let her forehead rest against his shoulder. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms and hold her.
'Then call me a child, for I had the same vain hope. That something could be simple and easy for us.'
She straightened with a sigh, and moved away from him. It made the damp night colder.
Wistfulness twined through him. 'Althea? Do you think there will ever be a time and place when things are simple and easy for us? A time when I can walk down the street with you on my arm under the light of day?'
She answered slowly. 'I've never allowed myself to look that far ahead.'
'I have,' Brashen said bluntly. 'I've thought ahead to you captaining Vivacia and me still running Paragon. That's the happiest ending we could expect from this quest. But then I ask myself, where does that leave us? When and where do we make a home for ourselves?'
'Sometimes we'd both be in port at the same time.'
He shook his head. 'That isn't enough for me. I want you all the time, always at my side.'
She spoke quietly. 'Brashen. I cannot allow myself to think of that just now. I fear that all my planning for tomorrow must begin with my family ship.'
'And I fear it will always be so. That all your plans will always begin with your ship.' Abruptly he realized that he sounded like a jealous lover.
Althea seemed to feel the same. 'Brashen, must we speak of such things now? Cannot we, for now, be content with what we have, with no thoughts for tomorrow?'
'I thought I was supposed to be the one to say such things,' he replied gruffly after a moment. 'Still, I know that for now, I must be content with what I have. Stolen moments, secret kisses.' He smiled ruefully. 'When I was seventeen, I would have thought this the epitome of romance: covert passion aboard a ship. Furtive kisses on the afterdeck on a foggy night.' With a step he swept her into his arms and kissed her deeply. He had not surprised her; had she been waiting for him to do this? She held nothing back; her body fitted sweetly against his. Her easy response stirred him so deeply he groaned with longing. Reluctantly, he separated his body from hers.
He found a breath. 'But I'm not a boy anymore. Now this just drives me mad. I want more than this, Althea. I don't want suspense and quarrels and jealousy. I don't want sneaking about and concealing what I feel. I want the comfort of knowing you are mine, and taking pride in everyone else recognizing that as well. I want you in my bed beside me, every night, and across the table from me in the morning. I want to know that years from now, if I stand on another deck somewhere, on another night, you will still be beside me.'
SHE TURNED TO LOOK UP AT HIM INCREDULOUSLY. SHE COULD BARELY PICK OUT his features. Was he teasing her? His voice had sounded serious. 'Brashen Trell, are you proposing marriage to me?'
'No,' he said hastily. There was a long uncomfortable silence. Then he laughed softly. 'Yes. I suppose I am. Marriage, or something very like it.'
Althea took a long breath and leaned back on the railing. 'You never cease to surprise me,' she observed shakily. 'I… I don't have an answer for you.'
His voice also shook, though she knew he tried for levity. 'I suppose that's all right, as I haven't really asked the question yet. But when all this is over, I shall.'
