Two nimble bandits crossed the slender span and greeted Dove as joyfully as if she’d come back from the dead. Because I stood beside her, they babbled what must have been thanks to me, embraced me, kissed me, and dropped three of their own necklaces over my head before whisking her away. She raced ahead of them across the sapling and scrambled up the rocks like a young goat. Her waiting kin atop the cliffs disappeared as soon as she and her escorts reached them, and the Argo entered the black waters of the Unfriendly Sea.
We sailed on, always keeping the southern shore of the Unfriendly Sea in sight. Those dark waters had a bad reputation for spewing up storms out of nowhere. The farther we traveled from Thrace, the more attention and favor Jason gave to one particular man, strong-limbed and silent, whose few remaining strands of hair were sea-foam white. I’d noticed him many times, both when the ship sailed and when it was beached for the night. He was the one who’d slept aboard that first night out while the rest of the men made camp on the shore. He’d done the same thing from time to time in the course of our voyage, as if he found the ship better company than her crew. He seemed to be forever prowling up and down, examining every part of the Argo he could touch. His bench might have been far forward, where I never went, but I never saw him take a turn at the rowing oars, and I never saw him smile.
Beyond the Clashing Rocks, my curiosity finally got the better of me. “Who is that?” I asked Orpheus. The unknown crewman was at the steering oar again, shouting at Jason about how he had no business giving any orders concerning the ship’s course. Jason accepted the scolding without a word of argument.
“That’s our treasure,” Orpheus replied. “If not for him, this voyage never could have happened. Not only does he know the way to Colchis, he saw to it that we’ve got a ship fit to survive these waters. He designed it, he watched over every step of its birth, and he’d sacrifice his own life sooner than let anything happen to it.” The Thracian leaned closer to me and grinned. “Haven’t you ever asked yourself why this ship is called ‘the Argo’? That’s Argus, son of Phrixus, the same Phrixus who rode the flying gold-fleeced ram. Nobody knows why Argus left Colchis, nobody knows why he agreed to return, and nobody asks.”
“Not even Jason?”
“As long as Argus gives him what he wants—the quickest route to the Golden Fleece and a swift, safe passage back to the throne of Iolkos—Jason doesn’t care if the man slit his mother’s throat. His own mother’s, or Jason’s, or both,” Orpheus clarified.
The next day, I waited until Argus came aft on his never-ending inspection tour of the ship. As he headed forward again, I stepped into his path and held out a clay cup filled with water. “The sun’s strong today,” I said pleasantly. “You look thirsty.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you want? And if you say you only want to give me a drink, save your breath for other lies. I can get my own water when I want it.”
“True.” I raised the cup to my lips and drained it. “I want to talk with you. There’s a question I want you to answer about this ship, that’s all.”
“That’s more than you’ll get. I’m busy.” He tried to push past me.
“Too busy to repay your debt?” The words flew from my mouth.
Argus stopped and turned back to face me. “What debt?”
“The one you owe me from the Clashing Rocks, when I saw to it that your ship passed through unharmed.”
For the first time, I saw Argus’s lips lift at the corners. “Don’t you mean ‘Prince Jason’s ship’?”
“I know what I said.”
His smile grew a little wider. “You’re a funny one. That’s good. Men hunger for entertainment on long voyages. So I owe you for this ship’s well-being, do I? That’s a grand debt for a fingerling like you to hold over me. How do you figure it’s yours to claim?”
“I kept that captive girl from throwing herself into the waves,” I replied. “Without her, the Argo never would have reached the Unfriendly Sea.”
Argus snorted, but he was still smiling. “Do you know who I am, boy?” I nodded. “Then you know where I’m from, and that our course holds no surprises for me. Don’t you think I knew about the Clashing Rocks and had provided a way for us to pass through them, even without old Lord Phineas’s ‘gift’?”
“What did you bring?”
“Much the same thing as you’ve got right there.” He pointed to the small pouch I carried at my belt. “I’ve got five just like that, all stowed away safe in case of need. If that much gold and silver wasn’t enough to satisfy the bandits, I’d’ve handed over your pitiful little sack of treasure as well. Hades take those vultures, I’d’ve given them you to save this ship!”
I cupped my hand around my belt-pouch. “How do you know I’ve got anything valuable in here?” I asked.
“My ears are like Lynceus’s eyes. I can hear rot in a ship’s timbers, and the rumble of a coming storm. Hearing gold and silver jingling in a young sprat’s pouch?” He snapped his fingers.
“The jingling could be nothing more than seashells and pebbles,” I countered.
Now he laughed. “And why would you want to carry that trash? No, you can’t fool my ears—” He leaned close and, in a voice for my ears alone, added, “—lass.”
My mouth went dry and I could hardly draw a breath. “That’s not funny,” I rasped.
He threw his arm around my neck as if we were old friends and drew me closer. “Now, now, don’t be a fool,” he whispered. “I know what you are. A voice like yours gives it away to anyone with the ears to hear it. There’s no hint that it’ll ever break and deepen, the way a real lad’s does.”
“That’s the flimsiest, most unbelievable—”
“Unbelievable, is it? Yet if I go to Jason, claiming it’s so, and telling him there’s an old sailor’s belief that women bring bad luck to voyages, he won’t hesitate to put you to the one test you can’t bluster your way out of.” He savored my distress for five breaths, then cackled and said, “But don’t worry, I’m not about to tell a soul.”