“Brashen?” she complained a moment later. He realized he was still staring at her. Without a word, he rose and went to her. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her, careless of the tolerant grins of two sailors who were scooping scattered coins into heavy canvas bags. He held her in his arms, still half-amazed that he could do this. He swept her closer. “Don’t ever go away from me,” he said thickly into her hair.

She turned her head up to grin at him. “Why would I leave a rich man like you?” she teased. She put her hands on his chest and pushed gently free of him.

“I knew you were after my fortune,” he replied, letting her go. He held back a sigh. She always wanted to be clear of him before he was ready to let her go. It was her independent nature, he supposed. He refused to worry that she was wearying of him. Yet she had not seemed overly upset when he had been unable to arrange their wedding at the Traders’ Concourse. Perhaps she did not wish to be bound to him quite that permanently. Then he chided himself for his lingering doubts and discontent. Althea was still beside him. That was more than he’d ever had in his life and it was worth more to him than this incomprehensible wealth of treasure.

He looked around the platform they stood on, then lifted his eyes to the similar structures in two adjacent trees. “This booty will fill Paragon’s hold. Igrot brought him here heavy with treasure, and so he will be when we leave. I try to imagine how this will change things for us, and I cannot. I get caught up in the wonder of the individual pieces.”

Althea nodded. “I cannot relate it to myself. I think mostly of how it will affect others. My family. I can help Mother restore our home. Keffria need not worry so about the family finances.”

Brashen grinned. “My plans are mostly for Paragon. New windows. New rigging. The services of a good sailmaker. Then, something for us. Let’s make a trip south to the Spice Isles, a slow journey, exploring, with no schedules and no need to turn a profit. I want to revisit the ports we haven’t seen since your father was master on Vivacia.” He watched her face carefully as he added, “Maybe we could rendezvous with Wintrow and Vivacia. See how they’re getting along.”

He watched her consider it. For Althea, a visit to the southernmost trade isles would be a return to the ports of her childhood travels. Maybe there she could lose some of the constant regret that overshadowed her. And perhaps seeing Wintrow and Vivacia could lay some ghosts to rest. If she saw her ship was content and in good hands, would it lift the burden from her heart? He refused to fear such an encounter. Much as it hurt him to admit, if he could not lift her melancholy soon, it might be better to let her go. It was not that she did not smile and laugh. She did. But always, her smiles and laughter faded too soon into a silence that excluded him.

“I’d like that,” she conceded, recalling him to himself. “If Paragon could be persuaded. We could look for Tintaglia’s serpents at the same time.”

“Good,” he said with false heartiness. “That’s what we’ll do then.” He drew a deep breath and lifted his eyes. The brief spring day was closing. Through the interlacing treetops, he could glimpse storm clouds. Winter might make a brief return tonight. “Best get us all back to the ship for the night,” he decided. “It gets dark fast, and I see no sense in risking man or treasure to move it tonight.”

Althea nodded. “I’ll want to see how they’ve stowed it anyway.” She turned to the others. “Last load, men. Tomorrow is soon enough to finish this.”

SHE CAME OUT ON DECK INTO THE DARKNESS, BEARING A LANTERN. PARAGON did not turn to see who it was. He recognized Amber’s light barefoot tread. She often came to him by night. They had had many night conversations. They had also shared many times without talk, content to let the sounds of the night birds and the river running remain undisturbed. Usually, her hands on his railing radiated peace to him. Tonight she hung the lantern on a hook, and set something down on his deck before she leaned on the railing. “It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”

“It is. But it won’t be for long, for you. That lantern will attract every insect that flies. They are thickest immediately before a storm. Linger long and you’ll be bitten all over.”

“I just need it for a short time.” She drew a breath, and he sensed an unusual excitement running through her. She sounded almost nervous. “Paragon, earlier you offered to share your treasure with us. I’ve found something among it, something I desperately long to possess.”

He looked back at her. She was in her night robe, a long loose garment that reached to her bare feet. Her uneven hair fell loose to her shoulders. Her serpent scalds still showed, dead white against her golden skin. Time, perhaps, would erase those scars, or so he liked to think. In the lantern light, her eyes sparkled. He found himself returning her smile. “So what is this treasure you must possess? Gold? Silver? Ancient Elderling jewelry?”