“Yes,” he confirmed for him. He extended a gloved hand to Grag and Grag took it, but used it to pull Reyn closer.

Head close to Reyn’s, Grag asked anxiously, “Has the Satrap been found?”

Reyn managed to shake his head. Grag frowned, and spoke hastily. “Come with me. All of you. I’ve a wagon waiting. I’ve had a boy watching for the Kendry from the headland for the past three days. Quickly, now. There have been some wild rumors in Bingtown of late. This is not a good place for any of you.” From beneath his own cloak, Grag produced a ragged workman’s cloak. “Cover your Rain Wild garb.”

For an instant, Reyn was shocked into silence. Then he shook out the cloak and flung it over his mother’s before handing her off to Grag. He seized Keffria’s arm without ceremony. “Come along quickly and quietly,” he whispered to her. He saw Keffria grip Selden’s hand more tightly. The boy sensed that all was not right. His eyes widened, and then he hurried along with them. All their bags were left behind on the ship. It could not be helped.

Grag’s wagon was an open cart more suited to hauling freight than passengers. There was a definite smell of fish to it. Two well-muscled young men lounged in the back. They wore the smocks of Three Ships fishermen. Reyn helped the women in as Grag jumped to the seat and took up the reins. “There’s some sailcloth back there. If you spread it over you, it will keep some of the rain off.”

“And hide us as well,” Jani observed sourly, but she helped Reyn to unfold the canvas and stretch it out. They huddled together under it. Their escorts sat on the tail of the wagon, feet swinging as Grag stirred the ancient horse.

“Why is the harbor so empty?” Reyn asked one of the fishermen. “Where are the ships of Bingtown?”

“On the bottom, or off chasing Chalcedeans. They made a poke at us yesterday. Two ships approached the harbor with three others hanging offshore. Ophelia took out after them, and our other ships followed. Sa, how they ran! But I don’t doubt our ships caught up to them. We’re still waiting for our ships to return.”

That didn’t seem right to Reyn, but he couldn’t put his finger on why it disturbed him. As the horse pulled the cart through Bingtown, he saw the city in glimpses from beneath the flapping canvas. Some commerce was taking place, but the city had an uneasy air. Folk hurried by on their errands or suspiciously watched the cart pass. The wind brought the clinging stink of low tide and burned houses. It seemed to Reyn that they took a roundabout route to the Tenira estate. At the gate, armed men waved Grag in and closed the gates behind the cart. As Grag pulled the horse to a halt, the door opened wide. Naria Tenira and two of Grag’s sisters were among those who spilled out. Their faces were anxious.

“Did you find them? Are they safe?” Grag’s mother demanded as Reyn threw back the canvas that had covered them.

Then Selden was scrabbling out of the cart, crying, “Grandma, Grandma!”

On the doorstep of the Tenira manor, Ronica Vestrit opened her arms wide to her grandchild.

SATRAP COSGO, HEIR TO THE PEARL THRONE AND THE MANTLE OF RIGHTEOUSness, picked at his chest, pulling off a long papery sheet of peeling skin. Malta looked aside to keep from grimacing. “This is intolerable,” the Satrap complained yet again. “My skin is ruined. Such an unsightly pink shows beneath! My complexion will never again be as fair as it was.” He looked at her accusingly. “The poet Mahnke once compared the skin of my brow to the opalescence of a pearl. Now, I am disfigured!”

Malta felt Kekki’s knee bump the small of her back. Kekki lay on her pallet by the Satrap’s bed and Malta was hunkered on the floor beside her. It was her place in the small room. Malta winced at the nudge against her aching back but recognized the hint. She searched her mind, then lied. “In Bingtown, it is said that the woman who washes her face once a year in Rain Wild River water will never age. It is an uncomfortable treatment, but it is said to keep the complexion youthful and fair.”

Kekki breathed out a sigh of approval. Malta had done well. Cosgo brightened immediately. “Beauty demands a price, but I have never flinched from a little personal discomfort. Still, I wonder what has become of the ship that we were to join at the mouth of the river. I am tired of this wallowing about. A ship of this size is ill-suited to open water like this.”

Malta lowered her eyes and stifled her opinion of his ignorance. The Chalcedeans traveled for months at a time in their galleys. Their ability to subsist on crude rations and endure the hardships of life aboard an open boat was legendary; it made their reputation as sailors and raiders.