Ship of Destiny

"I did not send for you," he greeted Etta coldly as she came aboard. She seemed undaunted by his rebuke.

"I know. I thought to take advantage of the lull in the storm to return."

"Whether I commanded it or not," Ke

She halted without touching him, plainly puzzled. There was hurt in her voice as she complained, "It didn't occur to me that you might not want me to return."

Jola looked at him oddly. Ke

"Regardless of the risk to yourself?" he amended sharply. "Get to the cabin. You are drenched. Wintrow, you also. I have news to share with you."

Ke

"Well. So you are here. Why?" he challenged them before either could speak. He gave them almost time enough to gather their thoughts, then as Wintrow drew breath, he cut him off. "Don't bother replying. I see it in your faces. After all we have been through, you still don't trust me."

"Ke

"What is it about me you find so doubtful? My judgment? My honor?" He set his face in lines of bitter remorse. "I fear you are justified? I showed poor judgment in my promise to Wintrow, and little honor to my crew in risking them attempting to keep that promise." He gave Wintrow a piercing look. "Your aunt is alive and aboard. In fact, she sleeps in your room. Stop!" he ordered as Wintrow rose hastily. "You ca

"They approached under truce, and then attacked?" Wintrow asked incredulously.

"Ah. You were watching, then? They provoked our serpents into attacking by firing arrows at them. They mistook the serpents' retreat for flight. Emboldened by that, they brought in their ship to challenge us directly. In the final battle, we prevailed. Unfortunately, a valuable prize was lost in the process." He shook his head. "The ship was determined to perish." That was a vague enough telling that he could later shift details as needed, if Wintrow doubted any of it. For now, it left the lad white-faced and stiff.

"I had no idea," Wintrow began awkwardly, but with a sharp wave of his hand, Ke

"Of course you did not. Because you have not learned a thing, despite all my efforts to teach you. I deferred to my feelings for you, and made costly promises. Well, I kept them. The ship is not pleased, the crew has been risked and a rare prize has been lost. But I kept my word to you, Wintrow. As Etta begged me to. I fear it will bring neither of you joy," he finished wearily. He looked from one to the other and shook his head in disgust at his own stupidity. "I suppose I am a fool to hope that either of you will obey my wishes regarding Althea Vestrit. Until I determine if she is a threat to us, I would like to keep her isolated. Comfortable but isolated from both ship and crew. I have no desire to kill her, Wintrow. But neither can I risk her discovering the secret ways into Divvytown, or undermining my authority with the ship. Her mere presence in these waters appears to have been enough to turn you against me." He shook his head again wearily. "I never dreamed you would be so quick to doubt me. Never." He went so far as to lower his face into his hands. His elbows rested on his knee as he curled forward in mimed misery. He heard Etta's light footstep on the deck but still pretended to startle as her hands came to rest on his shoulders.

"Ke

"No, no." He forced himself to reach up and pat one of her hands. "Now that you are here, you may as well stay. As long as you keep well clear of Althea and her companion."

"If this is your will, I shall not question it. In all other things as regard me, you have always been right." She paused. "And I am sure that Wintrow agrees with me," she prompted the hapless boy.

"I would like to see Althea," Wintrow replied miserably. Ke

"But you will do as Ke

Wintrow bowed his head in defeat. "I am sure he has good reasons for wishing me to do this," he conceded at last.

Etta's hands were kneading Ke

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE — Flights

REYN HAD NOT BELIEVED HE COULD FALL ASLEEP IN THE DRAGON'S CLUTCHES, but he had. He twitched awake, then gave a half-yell at the sight of his feet dangling over nothing. He felt a chuckle from the dragon in response, but she said nothing.

They were getting to know one another well. He could feel her weariness in the rhythm of her wing beats. She needed to rest soon. But for his presence, she had told him, she could have plunged down into shallows near an island, allowing the water to absorb her impact. Because he occupied her forepaws, she sought a beach that was open enough to permit a ponderously flapping landing. In the Pirate Isles, that was not easy to find. The little islands below them were steep-sided and pointed, like mountaintops poking up out of the sea. A few had gentle, sandy beaches. Each rest period, she would select a site and descend in sickening circles. Then, as she got closer to the ground, she would beat her great leathery wings so fiercely that their motion snatched the breath from Reyn's lungs while filling the air with dust and sand. Once down, she would casually dump him on the sand and bid him get out of her way. Whether he did or not, she leapt into flight again. The turbulence of her passage was enough to fling him to the ground. She would be gone for a few hours or half a day, to hunt, feed, sleep and sometimes feed again.

Reyn used these solitary hours to kindle a fire, eat from his dwindling supplies, and then roll himself up in his cloak to sleep; if he could not sleep, he tormented himself with thoughts of Malta, or with wondering what would become of him if the dragon failed to return.

In the fading light of the winter afternoon, Reyn sighted a beach of black sand amid out-thrusts of black rock. Tintaglia banked her wings and swung toward it. As they circled, several of the black boulders littering the beach stirred. Napping marine mammals lifted their ponderous heads. The sight of the dragon sent them galloping heavily into the waves. Tintaglia cursed, finishing with, "But for carrying you, I'd have a fine, fat meal in my talons right now. It's rare to find sea bullocks so far north this time of year. I won't have another chance like that again!"