“I’d never abandon the Tarman. My barge isn’t suited to a trip to Chalced.”

“Isn’t it?” The traitor had cocked his head and said, “It seems to me that your barge is better suited to many things than it would appear. If your share of the money from the dragon parts didn’t sate you, I’d wager you’d get near the same amount for the barge, ‘specially modified’ as it is. In one piece. Or as parts.”

And there it was. The man met his outraged gaze squarely, never losing his nasty little smile. He knew. He knew what Tarman was, and he knew what Leftrin had found, and what he’d done with it. Leftrin, that smile said, was no better than he was. There was no difference between them. Leftrin had already trafficked in dragon parts for his own benefit.

And if Leftrin did anything to betray Jess for what he was, Jess would return the favor. He felt Tarman quest toward him. He stepped quickly to the railing and put his hand on the silvery wood. “It will be all right,” he assured his ship. “Trust me. I’ll think of something. I always do.”

Then he took his hands off the railing and walked back to talk to Swarge, just in case Alise happened to come out on deck.

Swarge, taciturn as ever, was leaning on his tiller, his eyes fixed on the river, distant and dreaming. He wasn’t a young man anymore, Leftrin suddenly realized. Well, he supposed he wasn’t a young fellow himself anymore. He totted up the years they’d been together, and thought of all they’d been through, good days and bad. Swarge had never questioned Leftrin’s decision when his captain had revealed the trove of wizardwood and outlined his use for it. Swarge could have talked, but he hadn’t. Swarge could have held him up, demanded a chunk of the wood to keep his silence, gone off and sold it and been a wealthy man. But he hadn’t. He’d made only one request, a simple one he should have made long ago. “There’s a woman,” he’d said slowly. “A good river woman, can do a good day’s work on a ship. If I stay aboard for this, I know I’m staying aboard forever. She’s the kind of woman who’s easy to live with. Could be part of the crew on this boat forever. You’d like her, Cap. I know you would.”

So Bellin had been part of Swarge’s deal, and no one had ever regretted it. She’d come aboard and hung up her duffel bag and sewn a curtain to give them a bit of privacy. Tarman had liked her, right from the start. Tarman was her home and his life. She and Swarge had lost their shoreside ties long ago, and Swarge was a man content with his life. Now he stood, his broad hands gripping the handle of the tiller, doing what he did all day long. Gripping the wood like that, Leftrin reckoned that Swarge knew Tarman almost as well as he did. Knew the boat and loved him.

“How’s he going today?” he asked the man, as if he didn’t know himself.

Swarge looked at him, a bit surprised by such a useless question. “He goes well, Captain,” he said. As always, the man’s voice was so deep it took a trained ear to make out his words. “He goes with a will. Bottom’s good here. Not all sink-silt like yesterday. We’re on our way. No doubt about it. Making good time, too.”

“Good to hear you say it, Swarge,” Leftrin said and let him go back to his dreaming and staring.

Tarman had made a hard transition that year. Leftrin had let most of his crew go, confiding his discovery of the wizardwood and his plans for it only to the people he felt could keep a secret and would stay. No poleman would ever work aboard Tarman and not know the difference in the barge. Every member of this crew was handpicked now and likely to remain aboard for life. Hennesey was devoted to the ship, Bellin loved her life aboard, and Eider was as conversational as the anchor. As for Skelly, the ship was her fortune. The secret should have been safe.

But it wasn’t. And now they were all at risk, his ship included. What would the Council do if it knew what he had done? How would the dragons react? He clenched his teeth and fists. Too late to turn back.

He took a slow turn around the deck, checking things that didn’t need checking and finding all exactly as it should be. Jess and his canoe were gone. Good. He considered for a moment, then took out his rum flask and upended it over the side of the barge and into the water below. “That he may not come back,” he offered El savagely. It was well known that that particular god wasn’t moved by prayer but sometimes succumbed to bribery. Ordinarily, Leftrin worshipped Sa, when he worshipped anything. But sometimes the harshness of a pagan god was a man’s last resort.

Well, not quite his last resort. He could always murder Jess himself…