“That’s why we have to cram so much living into those years.” This observation came from Jek. Her perfume wafted on the spring night. Despite the chill, she was barefoot, a long skirt swirling about her ankles. She came boldly to perch on Vivacia’s railing. “Evening, ladies,” she greeted them. She took a deep breath, sighed with contentment and sat swinging her feet.

“You’ve been up at the dancing!” Ophelia enthused. “Tell us about it. Did you see the Satrap’s palace?”

“From the outside. It was all lit up like a bawdy-house lantern, golden lamplight and music spilling from every window and door. The streets were full of fine carriages, and there was a great line of folk parading in, dressed fine as kings, every one of them. Some were content to stand about and gawk at their betters, but not I. The courtyard was fine with me. The music was gay, the men were handsome and the dancing lively. They were cooking whole pigs on spits, and keg after keg of beer did they broach. It was as good a feasting as I’ve ever seen in any town. Still and all, I’m ready to sail tomorrow. Jamaillia’s a dirty place, for all its fine houses. I’ll be glad to get out on the water again, and gladder still to see Divvytown. I knew it was my home port that first time I saw it.”

“The pirate town? Sa save us all. Does someone wait there for you, dearie?” Ophelia asked.

Jek laughed aloud. “They all wait for me. They just don’t know it yet.”

Ophelia’s bawdy chuckle echoed hers. Then she noticed Vivacia’s silence. “Why so thoughtful, my dear? Do you miss your Wintrow? He’ll be back soon enough.”

Vivacia stirred from her reverie. “No. Not Wintrow. As you say, he will be back soon enough. Sometimes it is a pleasure to have no thoughts but my own. I was looking at the sky and recalling. The higher you fly, the more stars there are. There are stars up there that I will never see again. They didn’t matter to me when the heavens still belonged to me, but now I feel it as a loss.”

“You’re young. You’re going to find a lot of things like that in your life,” the old liveship replied complacently. “No sense dwelling on them.”

“My life,” Vivacia mused. “My life as a liveship.” She turned to regard Ophelia with a sigh. “I almost envy you. You recall nothing, so you miss nothing.”

“I recall a lot, my dear. Just because my memories have sails instead of wings, don’t you discount them.” She sniffed. “And my life is nothing for you to disdain, I might add. Nor your own. You could take a lesson from my Grag. Don’t go mooning after the stars, when the wide sea is all around you. It’s a sky of its own, you know.”

“And with just as many stars,” Jek observed. She hopped back onto the deck and stretched until her muscles crackled. “Good night, ladies. I’m for my bunk. The day starts early for sailors.”

“And for liveships. Sweet dreams, my dear,” Ophelia wished her. As Jek padded softly away, the liveship shook her head. “Mark my words. She’ll regret it if she doesn’t settle down soon.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” Vivacia replied, smiling. She looked back at the lights of the town. In the Satrap’s palace, Wintrow and Etta prepared humans to accept the return of her kind. She knew a sudden surge of pride in them. Astonishingly, she felt the same for herself. She smiled at Ophelia. “Jek is too busy living. She won’t waste time on regrets. And neither shall I.”

Liveship Traders 3 - Ship of Destiny

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE - Bingtown

“COMPANION SERILLA is IN THE PARLOR.” RONICA WALKED INTO THE CHAMBER and looked around curiously.

“Are you certain?” Keffria heard the foolishness of her question as soon as she uttered it. She climbed down from the stool she had been standing on. She gave one critical look over her shoulder. “Oh dear,” she muttered to herself. The old draperies from Selden’s room, dyed, turned and pressed, still looked like the old draperies from Selden’s room. No matter what she did to her bedchamber, it would still be the room she had shared with Kyle. Jani Khuprus had sent Rain Wild furniture to her but the lovely stuff was airy and pale, like the ghosts of the heavy bedstead and massive chests that had once filled the room. She wondered if she should move into Malta’s room and keep this larger chamber for when Reyn and Malta visited.

But perhaps that would be cruel. Would not this room remind Malta of her father as much as it reminded Keffria of her husband? She shook her head at the cruelty of fate. Poor Kyle, to die on the decks of the Paragon, battling Jamaillian sailors. For what? A matter of a day later, those who had killed him had become their allies. Althea had brought her the tidings, and delivered them with uncharacteristic sensitivity when they were alone.