He looked at the odd woman and shook his head. “That isn’t how I see it, Amber. That isn’t how I see it at all. It’s just my life, and now that I have finally discovered what I must have to be happy, I’m willing to lay down my life for it. That’s all.”

She smiled. “That is all. You are right. And that is all that AH ever is.”

Brashen drew a shuddering breath. Her words were edged with mystery and fraught with import. He shook his head. “I’m just a simple sailor.”

Mother had been watching the interchange intently. Now she smiled, a smile at once beatific in its peacefulness and terrifying in its acceptance. The expression was like a confirmation of all Amber had said. Brashen felt suddenly cornered by the two women, compelled toward he knew not what. He fixed his gaze on Mother. “You know your son. Do you think there is any chance we will succeed?”

She smiled, but sorrow edged it. She lifted her shoulders in an old woman’s shrug.

Paragon spoke. “She thinks you will succeed. But whether you will know you have succeeded, or if the success will be the one you would have chosen for yourself, well, those are things no one can say now. But she knows you will succeed at whatever you are meant to do.”

For a moment, he tried to unknot the ship’s words. Then Brashen sighed. “Now don’t you start with me, too,” he warned the ship.

MALTA SAT AT THE CAPTAIN’S TABLE, HER FINGERS STEEPLED BEFORE HER. “THIS is a fair offer, one that benefits all. I cannot see any reason why you would refuse it.” She smiled charmingly over her hands at Captain Red. The Satrap, impassively silent, sat beside her.

Captain Red looked shocked. The others at the table were equally stunned. Malta had chosen her time well. The most difficult part had been persuading the Satrap to do it her way. She had dressed and groomed him carefully, and by dint of badgering and begging, convinced him to come to dinner at the captain’s table. She had dictated his manner to him as well, and he had complied, being courteous but not affable, and more silent than talkative. It was only when the meal was nearly over that he had cleared his throat and addressed the captain.

“Captain Red, please attend Malta Vestrit as she presents a negotiation on my behalf.”

Captain Red, too startled to do otherwise, had nodded.

Then, in a speech she had practiced endlessly before the little looking-glass in her chamber, she had presented the Satrap’s offer. She pointed out that monetary wealth was not the essence of the Satrapy; power was. The Satrap would not offer coin for his release, nor would he petition his nobles to do so. Instead, he would negotiate the terms himself. Speaking concisely, she outlined his offer: recognition of Kennit as King of the Pirate Isles, an end to slave raids in the Isles and the removal of the Chalcedean patrol vessels. The finer points of this would, of course, have to be negotiated more thoroughly with King Kennit. Perhaps they might include trade agreements; perhaps they might include pardons for those in exile who wished to return to Jamaillia. Malta had deliberately presented the offer while many still lingered at the table. In her conversations with the crew, she had gleaned the concerns dearest to them. She had gathered their fears that they might return to Divvytown or Bull Creek and find their homes burned, alongside their longing to see friends and family in Jamaillia City, to perform once again in the grand theaters of the capital.

She had distilled their desires into this offer. His silence was eloquent. He rubbed his chin, and swept a glance around the table. Then he leaned toward the Satrap. “You’re right. I thought only of coin. But this-” He stared at him almost suspiciously. “You’re truly ready to offer us these sorts of terms?”

The Satrap spoke with quiet dignity. “I’d be a fool to let Malta say such things if I had not well considered them.”

“Why? Why now?”

That was not a question Malta had prepared him for. She held her smile on her lips. They had agreed he would defer such queries to her. Yet, she was not surprised as he calmly ignored their agreement.

“Because I am a man who can learn from his errors,” he announced. Those words alone would have stunned her to silence, but what followed nearly made her gape. “Coming away from Jamaillia City and traveling through my domain has opened my eyes and my ears to facts that my advisors either hid from me, or were ignorant of themselves. My bold journey has borne fruit. My ‘foolishness’ in leaving the capital will now shine forth as true wisdom.” He smiled graciously around the table. “My advisors and nobles often underestimated my intelligence. It was a grave error on their part.”