"Good." She wrapped her arms about her knees again. "I was never afraid of the skraylings until now, no matter what people said about them."
"Never?" Sandy looked sceptical.
"No more than any other strangers," she said truthfully.
"So you're not afraid of me?" When she didn't answer, he nodded thoughtfully. "Hennaq was right. I am not like them, not any more."
Coby's hand strayed to the cross about her neck. Sandy smiled.
"Your God cannot protect you from things beyond His knowledge."
"Blasphemy," she whispered. "God knows all. He created everything."
"Did he create this ship? That jug? Men create also, and God has no hand in it."
"No, I cannot believe that."
"As you wish. I merely state the truth."
She got to her feet. "Will you sit with Gabriel for a while? I want to talk to Captain Youssef."
Without waiting for an answer she pushed past him and went out onto the deck. Mal needed her to be strong, now more than ever. If they could not rely on Sandy's sanity, she would have to lead them, and make better decisions than she had so far.
The sun was rising, gilding the hilltops of the Dalmatian coast and catching the red-and-white pennants on the mastheads of the Hayreddin. She drew a deep breath that turned into a yawn. Later. There would be time for sleep when she knew what prospects the day held.
The ship's bell clanged, and the sailors began to change watch, climbing down from the rigging as their fellows emerged from the hold to take their places. After a few minutes the captain climbed out of the hatch, looking as weary as Coby felt.
"How is our patient, my young friend?" he said, yawning and stretching in the sunlight.
"Much the same, sir. And your men?"
"We lost Fournier to one of their grenades and a few of the men are still weak from the smoke. Allah be praised, the gunners closed the ports before any more got inside."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"No matter." He patted her on the shoulder. "I could not let a friend remain a captive of those creatures. How did it come to pass that you were aboard their ship, anyway?"
She gave him a simplified account of their adventures, leaving out the details of the twins' true connection to the skraylings. A godly man like Youssef would not understand.
"But with Alexander safe in my hands," he said, "you think he dare not go through with the scheme, is that it?"
"Yes, but I dare not risk it. We have to get to Venice as soon as possible, to warn Master Catlyn." She stared at the shore. Colour was flowing down the hills, revealing a harsh, sun-baked land of scrubby forest and rocky outcrops. "Surely we should be sailing north, sir, not south?"
"Your friend Gabriel needs rest and care. A ship is no place for a sick man."
"You have somewhere in mind?"
"Spalato," he said. "It is ruled by Venice. If you want safe passage to the republic, I can think of no better place to start."