She let out her pent breath soundlessly. She had done it. The trap closed behind him, unsuspected. She took a deep breath to quell her queasiness at doing this to her own son. It was necessary, she told herself. Necessary, and therefore honorable. Reyn would abide by his word. He always had and always would. What was a Trader, if he was not as good as his word?

“As Trader for this family, I accept your agreement. Bendir, do you witness it?”

“I do,” he agreed sourly. He would not meet her eyes. She wondered if he suspected what she had done and was disgusted by it, or if he were dismayed at the terms.

“Then let us say enough of this for tonight. Reyn, please devote another day to the parchments, and then give us the best written translation that you can. Please document any new symbols in them, and note what you think they mean. But not tonight. Tonight, we all need to sleep.”

“Oh, not I,” Reyn retorted with bitter amusement. “No sleep for me, I fear. Or rather, I fear that I will sleep. I'll begin tonight, Mother. Perhaps I'll have something for you by morning.”

“Do not overtax yourself,” she suggested, but he was already gathering up his parchments and leaving. She waited until he was out the door and then hastily stepped in front of Bendir as he approached the door. “Wait,” she commanded him.

“For what?” he demanded in a surly tone.

“For Reyn to be well out of earshot,” she told him bluntly. That got his attention. He looked down at her in shock.

She let a few slow minutes pass. Then she took a deep breath. “The dragon-log, Bendir. We need to be rid of it, and soon. Cut it up. Perhaps you are right; perhaps it is time the Khuprus family had a ship of our own. Or have it sawn into planks and store them. Get rid of the thing inside it. Otherwise, I fear we will lose your brother. The log, not Malta, is the root of our problems with your brother. It preys upon his mind.” She took a deep breath. “I fear he will drown in the memories. He already walks a narrow path beside a precipice. I think we should keep him from the city as much as possible.”

A look of concern came into his face. It eased her heart. It was unfeigned. He truly cared for his younger brother. The depth of his feelings showed in his next question. “Now? You mean, cut up the log before he goes off to the Summer Ball in Bingtown? I don't think that is wise, Mother. No matter that he has agreed to give up any say about it. That should be a happy time in his life, not one tormented by second thoughts.”

“You are right. No. Wait until he is safely away. I expect he will spend a week or more in Bingtown. Do it then. Let him come home to it as something that is done and irrevocable. That will be best.”

“He will blame me, you know.” A shadow passed over Bendir's face. “This will not make anything easier between us.”

“No. He will blame me,” his mother assured him. “I will see that it is so.”

NIGHT HAD FALLEN OVER THE HARBOR. PARAGON COULD SENSE IT. THE wind had shifted. Now it carried the smells of the town to his nostrils. He reached up to touch his nose. Cautiously his fingers ventured higher, exploring the splintered wreckage of his eyes.

“Are you in pain?” Amber asked him quietly.

He immediately dropped his hands from his face. “We do not know pain as humans do,” he assured her. A moment later, he asked her, “Tell me about the town. What do you see?”

“Oh. Well.” He felt her shift on the foredeck. She had been lying on her back, either dozing or looking up at the stars. Now she rolled onto her belly. Her body was warm against his planking. “All around us is a forest of masts. Black sticks against the stars. A few of the ships have small lights showing, but not much. But in town, the lights are many. They reflect in the water and-”

“I wish I could see them,” he said plaintively. More loudly, he complained, “I wish I could see anything. Anything! It's all darkness, Amber. To be blind on the beach was bad, Amber, but after a time, I became accustomed to it. But here, in the water once more ... I don't know who is passing me on the docks, or what vessels may come alongside me. Fire could break out on the docks, and I would not know it until it was too late. All that is bad enough, but soon we will sail. How can you expect me to venture into that vastness blindly? I want to do well. I do. But I fear I cannot.”

He sensed her helplessness when she spoke. “You will have to trust us. We will be eyes for you, Paragon. If we must go into danger, I swear I will be here, right beside you, telling you all we face.”

“Thin comfort,” Paragon replied after a time. “That is thin comfort, I fear.”