“Or Wintrow?” Her voice had gone soft and knowing.

A knife twisted in him. How much did she truly read of his heart? He took a deep breath. “If you demanded it.” Would she? Could she insist he give him up? He pushed the thought aside. He’d talk her out of it. “I hope I hold as dear a place with you.” He tried to think of other fine words for her. Failing, he asked her instead, “Will you do it?”

“I think it’s time to tell you the price,” she countered.

The Marietta had taken up Wintrow’s small boat. Sorcor’s ship was veering off. Soon they would drop anchor at a discreet distance. He watched the routine of Sorcor’s crew and waited.

“When we are finished here, you will muster all your ships, every one that flies a raven flag. You and they will serve as escort for us. The serpents must travel north, far north, to a river mouth they scarcely remember, but one I have entered many times in my life as Vivacia. As we move north, we will seek to gather up other serpents. You will protect them from attacks from humans. When we reach the river, I shall take you up it, while your other ships guard the mouth of it. Well do I know that no ordinary wooden ship can accompany them on that migration. You will give to me, Kennit Ludluck, all that remains of this winter, all of spring, all your days until high summer and the sun’s full heat, as we aid the serpents in what they must do, and guard them through their helpless time. That is the price. Are you willing to pay it?”

In the naming of his name, she bound him. How had she known? Had she guessed? Then he glanced down at the small grinning charm on his wrist. Looking into features twin to his own, he knew his betrayer. The charm winked up at him.

“I, too, was once a dragon,” it said quietly.

There was so little time to think. For him to vanish with the serpents now for all those months might undo all he had built. Yet, he dared not refuse her this. Perhaps, he thought grimly, it would only add to his legend. The Paragon was lowering a small boat into the water. Althea Vestrit would be in it. That would never do. He dared not allow Althea on board the Vivacia. Bolt denied the connection, but Kennit would not take the chance. She had to be turned back and stopped now. He had taken Vivacia from Wintrow. He would not chance losing her to another.

“If I do as you ask, you will sink Paragon?” It was harder to ask now, for he knew that she knew all the reasons he desired Paragon to end.

“Tell me why you want him to be gone. Say the words.”

He took a breath and met her gaze. “I suppose my motives are the same as yours,” he said coldly. “You do not wish Althea to come aboard, for you fear she would ‘bring you back to yourself.’ ” He lifted his eyes and stared at the Paragon. “There floats a piece of myself I could do without.”

“Then it seems wisest, for both of us,” she agreed coldly. “He is mad. I cannot count on him to aid us; worse, as a liveship, he could follow us up the river and oppose us. He can never fly again as a dragon. So let us put him out of his misery. And end your misery as well, while binding you to me. Only me.”

Jealousy. This time it was unmistakable. She would tolerate no rivals for his attention, let alone so potent a competitor as Paragon. In this also, they were alike. She tucked her chin to her chest and summoned the serpents. The sound she made was something Kennit more felt than heard. Their serpent escort had lagged behind them to hunt and feed, but at her call, they came swiftly. Kennit felt their response, and then the water around the bow boiled with serpents. An instant later a forest of attentive heads upon gracefully curved necks rose around them. The green-gold serpent from Others’ Island came to the front of the throng. When Bolt paused, the serpent opened her jaws and roared something back at her. Bolt threw back her head and sang. Her voice battled against a wind that promised a storm to come. There were several exchanges of moans, bellows and high, thin cries between the two. Two other serpents added their voices as well. Kennit grew restless. This had to be a discussion of Bolt’s orders. That had not happened before. He did not think it auspicious, but dared not interrupt her with a question. His own crew was now listening and watching curiously. He glanced down to his hands gripping the railing, and saw the small face at his wrist staring up at him. He brought the charm close to his face.

“Do they oppose her?” he demanded of it.

“They question the necessity. She Who Remembers thinks Paragon might be useful to them alive. Bolt counters that he is both mad and a servile tool of the humans aboard him. Shreever asks if they may eat him for his memories. Bolt opposes this. She Who Remembers demands to know why. Now Maulkin asks if the ship holds knowledge she wishes to keep from the serpents.”