Ship of Destiny (93 page)

The figurehead raised his eyebrows questioningly. “No one wants to reclaim it for us?” he asked wryly.

GETTING THEIR FIRST LOOK AT IT WAS THE EASY PART. RIGGING
catwalks and hoists through the trees to transport the stuff back to Paragon’s deck was the time-consuming part. Despite the backbreaking labor, no one complained. “As for Clef, you would think Paragon had planned this specifically to get him out of his lessons,” Brashen pointed out. As the ship’s nimblest rigging monkey, the boy had been freed from his lessons for this task.

“If he grins any wider, the top half of his head may come off,” Althea agreed. She craned her neck to see Clef. A heavy sack bounced on his back as he made his way back to the ship. Neither snakes nor swarming insects had dampened the boy’s enthusiasm for his rope-walking trips back and forth between ship and platform. “I wish he were a bit more cautious,” she worried.

She, Brashen and several crewmen stood on a layered platform of logs. The vines had reinforced the old structure with their growing strength through the years, actually incorporating it into their system of tendrils and air roots. The chests and barrels that had held Igrot’s hoard had not fared as well. A good part of the day’s work had been repacking the spilled treasure into emptied food crates and casks. The variety of it astounded them. They had found Jamaillian coins and worked silver among the loot, a sure sign that Igrot had squirreled more than just the Rain Wild hoard here. Some of his booty had not survived. There were the long-moldered remains of tapestries and rugs, and heaps of iron rings atop the rotted leather that had once structured the battle shirts. What had survived far outweighed what had perished. Brashen had seen jeweled cups, amazing swords that still gleamed sharp when drawn from their filigreed scabbards, necklaces and crowns, statues and vases, game boards of ivory and marble with gleaming crystal playing pieces and other items he could not even identify. There were humbler items as well, from serving trays and delicate teacups to carved hair combs and jeweled pins. Among the Rain Wild goods was a set of delicately carved dragons with flakes of jewels for scales and a family of dolls with scaled faces. These last items Brashen was packing carefully into the onion basket from Paragon’s galley.

“I think these are musical instruments, or what is left of them,” Althea theorized.

He turned, stretching his back, to see what she was doing. She knelt, removing items from a big chest that had split its seams. She lifted chained crystals that tinkled and rang sweetly against one another as she freed them from their tomb and smiled as she turned to display them. She had forgotten that her hair was weighted with a net of jeweled chains. The motion caught glittering sunlight in her hair. She dazzled him. His heart swelled.

“Brashen?” she complained a moment later. He realized he was still staring at her. Without a word, he rose and went to her. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her, careless of the tolerant grins of two sailors who were scooping scattered coins into heavy canvas bags. He held her in his arms, still half-amazed that he could do this. He swept her closer. “Don’t ever go away from me,” he said thickly into her hair.

She turned her head up to grin at him. “Why would I leave a rich man like you?” she teased. She put her hands on his chest and pushed gently free of him.

“I knew you were after my fortune,” he replied, letting her go. He held back a sigh. She always wanted to be clear of him before he was ready to let her go. It was her independent nature, he supposed. He refused to worry that she was wearying of him. Yet she had not seemed overly upset when he had been unable to arrange their wedding at the Traders’ Concourse. Perhaps she did not wish to be bound to him quite that permanently. Then he chided himself for his lingering doubts and discontent. Althea was still beside him. That was more than he’d ever had in his life and it was worth more to him than this incomprehensible wealth of treasure.

He looked around the platform they stood on, then lifted his eyes to the similar structures in two adjacent trees. “This booty will fill Paragon’s hold. Igrot brought him here heavy with treasure, and so he will be when we leave. I try to imagine how this will change things for us, and I cannot. I get caught up in the wonder of the individual pieces.”

Althea nodded. “I cannot relate it to myself. I think mostly of how it will affect others. My family. I can help Mother restore our home. Keffria need not worry so about the family finances.”

Brashen grinned. “My plans are mostly for Paragon. New windows. New rigging. The services of a good sailmaker. Then, something for us. Let’s make a trip south to the Spice Isles, a slow journey, exploring, with no schedules and no need to turn a profit. I want to revisit the ports we haven’t seen since your father was master on Vivacia.” He watched her face carefully as he added, “Maybe we could rendezvous with Wintrow and Vivacia. See how they’re getting along.”

He watched her consider it. For Althea, a visit to the southernmost trade isles would be a return to the ports of her childhood travels. Maybe there she could lose some of the constant regret that overshadowed her. And perhaps seeing Wintrow and Vivacia could lay some ghosts to rest. If she saw her ship was content and in good hands, would it lift the burden from her heart? He refused to fear such an encounter. Much as it hurt him to admit, if he could not lift her melancholy soon, it might be better to let her go. It was not that she did not smile and laugh. She did. But always, her smiles and laughter faded too soon into a silence that excluded him.

“I’d like that,” she conceded, recalling him to himself. “If Paragon could be persuaded. We could look for Tintaglia’s serpents at the same time.”

“Good,” he said with false heartiness. “That’s what we’ll do then.” He drew a deep breath and lifted his eyes. The brief spring day was closing. Through the interlacing treetops, he could glimpse storm clouds. Winter might make a brief return tonight. “Best get us all back to the ship for the night,” he decided. “It gets dark fast, and I see no sense in risking man or treasure to move it tonight.”

Althea nodded. “I’ll want to see how they’ve stowed it anyway.” She turned to the others. “Last load, men. Tomorrow is soon enough to finish this.”

SHE CAME OUT ON DECK INTO THE DARKNESS, BEARING A
lantern. Paragon did not turn to see who it was. He recognized Amber’s light barefoot tread. She often came to him by night. They had had many night conversations. They had also shared many times without talk, content to let the sounds of the night birds and the river running remain undisturbed. Usually, her hands on his railing radiated peace to him. Tonight she hung the lantern on a hook, and set something down on his deck before she leaned on the railing.

“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”

“It is. But it won’t be for long, for you. That lantern will attract every insect that flies. They are thickest immediately before a storm. Linger long and you’ll be bitten all over.”

“I just need it for a short time.” She drew a breath, and he sensed an unusual excitement running through her. She sounded almost nervous. “Paragon, earlier you offered to share your treasure with us. I’ve found something among it, something I desperately long to possess.”

He looked back at her. She was in her night robe, a long loose garment that reached to her bare feet. Her uneven hair fell loose to her shoulders. Her serpent scalds still showed, dead white against her golden skin. Time, perhaps, would erase those scars, or so he liked to think. In the lantern light, her eyes sparkled. He found himself returning her smile. “So what is this treasure you must possess? Gold? Silver? Ancient Elderling jewelry?”

“This.” She stooped to a rough burlap sack at her feet, opened the mouth of it and reached within. From it, she pulled a carved wooden circlet. She handled it almost reverently as she turned it in her hands. Then, daringly, she crowned herself with it and then lifted her gaze to his. “Reach into your dragon memories, if you can. For me. Do you recall this?”

He looked at her silently and she returned his gaze. She waited. The crown was decorated with the heads of birds. No. Chickens. He quirked one eyebrow at her. Regretfully, she took off the crown and held it out to him. He took it carefully in his hands. Wood. Carved wood. He shook his head over it. Gold and silver, jewels and art. He had offered her the pick of the riches of the Cursed Shores. What did the carpenter choose? Wood.

She tried again to wake a response in him. “It was gilded once. See. You can still see bits of gilt caught in the details of the rooster heads. And there are places for tail feathers to be set into it, but the feathers have rotted away long ago.”

“I remember it,” he said hesitantly. “But that is all. Someone wore it.”

“Who?” she pressed him earnestly. He held it out to her and she took it back again. She shook her hair from her eyes, and then set the rooster crown on her head again. “Someone like me?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh.” He paused, striving to recall her. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head at last. “She wasn’t an Elderling. That’s all I can recollect of her.” The woman who wore it had been pale as milk. Not like Amber at all.

“That’s all right,” she assured him quickly, but he sensed her disappointment. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have this.”

“Of course. Did the others object?”

“I didn’t ask them,” she replied sheepishly. “I didn’t give them the chance.” She took the crown off again. Her eyes and fingers wandered lovingly over the carving.

“It’s yours,” Paragon confirmed. “Take it with you when you go.”

“Ah. You guessed that I am leaving, then.”

“I did. You will not even stay with me until high summer? That is when I will return here, to be near when the dragons hatch.”

Her fingers tracked the details of the carved bird heads. “I am tempted. Perhaps I will. But eventually, I think I must go north again. I have friends there. I haven’t seen them in a long time.” She lowered her voice. “A suspicion itches at me. I think I should go interfere in their lives some more.” She laughed with false lightness. “I hope I will fare better with them than I have down here.” Her face grew troubled. She climbed suddenly to the railing, saying softly, “Take me up.”

He reached over his shoulder to offer her his right hand. She climbed onto it and he turned back to contemplate the tangled jungle. It was easier to look away from the light and into the darkness. More restful. Carefully he shifted, until his arms were crossed on his chest. Trusting as a child, she sat on his crossed arms and leaned back against him companionably. All around them, night insects shrilled. Her bare legs dangled down.

She was always the one who dared to ask the questions others left unuttered. Tonight she had another one. “How did they all die?”

He knew exactly what she meant. Pointless to pretend he didn’t. And pointless to keep it a secret anymore. It almost felt good to share it with someone. “Wizardwood. Kennit kept a chunk from my face. One of his chores was to help with the cooking. He boiled it with the soup. Almost all of Igrot’s crew died from it.” He felt her cringe.

He tried to make her understand. “He was only finishing what Igrot had started. Men had begun to die on the ship. Igrot keelhauled two sailors for insubordination. They both drowned. Two others went over the side during a stormy night watch. There was a stupid accident in the rigging. Three died. We decided Igrot was behind it. He probably meant to do away with anyone who knew where the treasure was hidden. Including Kennit.” He forced himself to unclench his hands. “We had to do it, you see. To save Kennit’s life.”

Amber swallowed. She asked the question anyway. “And those that didn’t die from the soup?”

Paragon took a breath. “Kennit put them over the side anyway. Most were too poisoned to put up much of a fight. Three, I think, managed to put out a boat and escape. I doubt they survived.”

“And Igrot?”

The jungle seemed a black and peaceful place. Things moved in it, outside the circle of the lantern light. Snakes and night birds, small tree-dwelling creatures, both furred and scaled. Many things lived and moved in the tangled dark.

“Kennit beat him to death. Belowdecks. You’ve seen the marks down there. The handprints of a crawling man.” He took a breath. “It was fair, Amber. Only fair.”

She sighed. “Vengeance for both of you. For the times when he had beaten Kennit to death.”

He nodded above her. “Twice he did that. Once the boy died on my deck. But I couldn’t let him go. I could not. He was all I had. Another time, curled up belowdecks in his hidey-hole, he died slowly. He was bleeding inside, growing so cold, so cold. He cried for his mother.” Paragon sighed. “I kept him with me. I pushed life into him, and forced his body to mend itself as best as I could. Then I put him back in his body. Even then, I wondered if there was enough of him left to be a whole being. But I did it. It was selfish. I did not do it for Kennit. I did it for myself. So I would not be left alone again.”

“He truly was as much you as he was himself.”

Paragon almost chuckled. “There was no such line between Kennit and me.”

“And that was why you had to have him back?”

“He couldn’t die without me. Not any more than I could truly live without him. I had to take him back. Until I was whole again, I was vulnerable. I could not seal myself to others. Any blood shed on my deck was a torment to me.”

“Oh.”

For a long time, she seemed content to leave it at that. She leaned back against him. Her breathing became so deep and regular that he thought she slept. Behind him, on the deck, insects battered themselves against her lantern. He heard Semoy do a slow circuit of the deck. He paused by the lantern. “All’s well?” he asked Paragon quietly.

“All’s well,” the ship replied. He had come to like Semoy. The man knew how to mind his own business. His footsteps receded again.

“Do you ever wonder,” Amber asked him quietly, “how much you changed the world? Not just by keeping Kennit alive. By simply existing.”

“By being a ship instead of a dragon?”