‘No. You are giving him too much of your own strength. Lift your hands from him.’
I smiled as I remembered words I had given my father. ‘No one can say no to me now. Not even you.’
‘Bee. Now!’
I smiled. ‘No.’
‘Lift your hands, Bee, or I will pull you back from him!’
Did he know that that would hurt both of us? ‘A moment more,’ I told him, and heard the frustrated noise he made. I told Boy-O’s body to fare well, told it to keep working, gently, gently, gently, I had to go now, but it should keep working, yes, we would give it more soup. It was like calming an animal, and I suddenly knew that Boy-O’s mind lived inside his animal body, and that was who I spoke to.
I opened my eyes. Beloved reached toward me. I lifted my hands before he could touch me. I folded my arms on my chest and sat back. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been crouching over Boy-O. My back complained when I moved. I wiped my hands down my shirt. They were wet and sticky.
And then I knew something. ‘Ship, you tricked me! You made me want to do this.’
The carved woman turned slightly toward me. ‘It was necessary.’
‘She’s a child!’ Beloved objected. ‘You used her ruthlessly.’
‘I didn’t realize,’ Brashen said, and he sounded both guilty and unrepentant.
‘It didn’t hurt me,’ I objected, but when I tried to stand up, I could not.
The mother offered me a cup of the soup from the pot and I drank it in long sips. There were warm spices in it and some of them stung my tongue. Beloved watched me drink. Boy-O was breathing, and it was a good sound. I set the cup down on the deck and said, ‘The ship made me love her. I think it was like that thing dragons can do …’ I was suddenly very tired again. ‘When they make themselves so important to someone. I read about that. Somewhere.’
‘Humans call it a glamour,’ the ship said quietly. ‘Your name is Bee? I give you thanks. At the end of this voyage, we will all go our separate ways. It grieved me that Althea and Brashen might have to go without their son. But he will live, and go with them, and be a comfort to them. And knowing that will be a comfort to me, I think. Even as a dragon.’
‘As Bee should be a comfort to me. And Per. And her sister Nettle! Ship, interfere with this child again and I shall …’
‘You have no threat to offer, Amber. Be still. She has done enough for Boy-O. What would I ask again of her?’
He had fallen silent but I could see words piling up in him like unrecorded dreams.
‘I will be fine,’ I assured them as I stood. I had to smile. ‘Vivacia, you are as beautiful and perfect as you told me. I could love you.’ I was only a little tottery. And very tired. Don’t tell that. ‘I am going to go sleep. Good night to all of you.’
Behind me, the adults spoke softly. My hearing has always been keen. Brashen spoke with regret. ‘She must have been a very pretty child, once.’
‘Such scars! But thank Sa she is here with us now. She has great heart.’
‘I beg you to be more careful of her. She is not strong. Not yet.’ That was Beloved. He was wrong. I could be as strong as I needed to be. It bothered me that he tried to protect me. That he thought I was weak and tried to make others believe it as well. It made a hot little fire of anger in me.
My legs trembled slightly as I made my way back to my hammock. I couldn’t get into it. I thought of the first time I’d had to climb onto Pris’s back. My horse. Per was right. I’d be glad to see my horse again.
When Beloved spoke, I startled. ‘Bee. That healing was a kind thing. But you must think first of your own health. You are not well yet. I won’t ask you to promise me, but I will ask that you let me know if you are going to do something like that. Someone must be with you who has your best interests at heart.’
‘I do not think the ship would have let me go too far,’ I said. I smiled inside as I felt a warm, wordless reassurance that she would have stopped me. To him, I showed an expressionless face.
‘You are like your father. That isn’t really an answer to my request.’ He smiled, sad but serious.
I sighed. I wanted to sleep, not talk. Even more, I didn’t want his concern for me. It wasn’t his task. I found a lie. ‘You needn’t worry. My ability to do this is almost gone.’
The smile changed to a worried scowl. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The night I fought Symphe and Dwalia and Vindeliar, Symphe had a vial of serpent spit. What Dwalia called serpent potion. I think it had traces of Silver in it, like the Silver Paragon used to turn into dragons.’ I yawned wide. Suddenly I wanted to explain. ‘In a dream I had, they got it from keeping a sea serpent in a very tiny pool of salt water. Symphe was going to have Vindeliar drink it. He had used it before, and it gave him great power. But when I set fire to Symphe, she dropped the vial and it broke. When I was stabbing her, I cut my feet on the glass and some got into my blood. It made me stronger than Vindeliar. I was so strong I could just tell Dwalia to be dead, and she was.’
He went still. I watched him. Would he fear me now? Hate me?
No. When he came back to himself, his eyes were sorrowful. ‘You set fire to Symphe. And stabbed her.’
How could he think it sad that I had done that? I put it clearly. ‘I told you when I told my father. I killed them. It wasn’t evil, and I have no regret. It needed to be done, I was the one who was in the place and time to do it, and it was my task. So, I did it. I should have killed Vindeliar that night, too. It would have saved us all a great deal of trouble.’
‘Did you dream it?’ he asked hesitantly. When I stared at him, he said, ‘Did you have a dream that killing them was something you were supposed to do?’
I shrugged one shoulder. I seized the edge of the hammock and this time I got into it. I pulled up my blanket. It was summer above, but belowdecks, it was chill at night. I closed my eyes. ‘I don’t know. I have dreams. I know they mean something, but they are so strange I can’t connect them to what I will do. I dreamed a silver man carving his heart. The serpent spit was silver. Was that a dream of me carving Dwalia’s heart into death?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said quietly.
That had been a recent dream. I felt better for having told someone. ‘I’m going to sleep now,’ I told him. I closed my eyes and ignored him. He did not move. It was very annoying. I’d hoped he would leave. I waited a long time and then looked through my lashes. I was going to tell him to go away. Instead I asked, ‘Did you love my father?’
He went as still as a cat. When he spoke it was with reservation. ‘I had a deep bond with your father. A connection I had with no one else.’
‘Why won’t you say you loved him?’ I opened my eyes to see his face. My father had given him all his strength, and this man would not even say he had loved him?
His smile was too tight, as if he were forcing a different expression to be a smile. ‘It always made him uncomfortable if I used that word.’