There. That would leave him some hopes. It was all she had the energy for on this hot day.

Delo took it and slipped it into her cuff. She looked around the room. “Well,” she said disappointedly. “I suppose I should go home.”

“I'm not much company today,” Malta admitted. “I'll walk you out.”

At the door, a pony trap and a man to drive it awaited Delo. That, too, was new. The Trell family was obviously preparing to present Delo as a young woman at the midsummer ball. Malta would be presented at the same ball. She and her mother were using the fabric from several older dresses in the house to create a new gown for her. Her slippers would be new, as would her headpiece and her fan. At least, so she hoped. Nothing was certain anymore. She imagined she would ride there in Trader Restart's old carriage. It was yet another humiliation that she could not face just now.

Delo hugged her and kissed her on the cheek at the door. She did it as if it were a trick she had recently learned. It probably was, Malta reflected bitterly. Many of the young girls of the better families received instruction in the finer points of etiquette before they were presented. Another small thing that Malta would never have. She shut the door while Delo was still waving farewells with her new fan. It was a petty revenge, but she felt better for it.

She took the small bag of coins and the rings to her room. She spilled them out on her bed. They had not grown. She looked at it and wondered how she could make this small addition to their ship fund without explaining where it came from. She frowned. Could she do nothing right?

She scooped the coins and baubles into the bag and tucked it into her blanket chest. She flung herself down on her bed to think.

The day was too hot and there was too much work to do. There was weeding in the kitchen garden, and herbs to gather, tie and hang. Her dress for the Summer Ball was still only half finished. She had not the heart to work on it, not after seeing Delo's new finery. Malta was sure that everyone would know it was made over from old dresses. She recalled how she had dreamed of her first Summer Ball. She had visualized herself in an extravagant gown, entering on her father's arm. She smiled bitterly and closed her eyes. It was almost as if she were under a curse. Anything sweet, wonderful, and romantic that she ever imagined, she would never have.

She counted her disappointments drowsily. No lovely dress and carriage for the ball. No dashing sea-captain father to escort her. Cerwin had failed her; he didn't even know when to kiss a girl. Reyn had not come to her. She hated her life. All the problems were too big. She was trapped in a life she was helpless to change. The day was too hot. She was suffocating in its embrace. It was so stuffy.

She tried to roll over but there was not enough room. Perplexed, she tried to sit up. Her head thudded against a barrier. Her uplifted hands met only damp, shredded wood. The dampness, she suddenly realized, was from her own breath. She opened her eyes to blackness. She was trapped in here, trapped, and no one cared. She lifted frantic hands to press against whatever enclosed her. “Help me! Let me out of here! Someone help me!” She shoved against her boundaries, pushing with her hands, her elbows, her knees and feet. Nothing gave way. It only made the enclosure seem smaller. The only air she had to breathe was already warm and moist from her breath. She tried to scream, but there was not even enough air for that.

“It's a dream,” she told herself. She forced herself to be very still. “This is a dream. I am safe in my own bed. All I have to do is wake up now. Wake up.” She stretched and contorted her eye muscles, trying to open her eyes. She could not. There was not even enough room for her to bring her hands up to her face. She began to pant convulsively in fear. A whine escaped her.

“Do you see, now, why he must free me. Help me. Make him free me and I promise I will help you. I will bring back your father and the ship. All you have to do is make him free me.”

She knew that voice. She had heard it echoing through her dreams since she had shared the dream with Reyn. “Let me out,” she begged the dragon. “Let me wake up.”

“Will you make him help me?”

“He says he cannot.” Malta could scarcely find breath for the words. “I think he would if he could.”

“Make him find a way.”

“I can't.” A second layer of darkness was closing in on her as she panted. She was going to faint. She'd suffocate in this dream. Could someone faint in a dream? Could she die in a dream? “Let me out!” she cried faintly. “Please. I have no control over Reyn! I can't make him do anything.”

The dragon chuckled, a deep rich laugh. “Don't be foolish. He is only a male. You and I, we are queens. We are destined to master our males. It is the proper balance of the world. Think about it. You know how to get what you want. Take it. Free me.”