Brashen was at the top of the gangplank, where other well-wishers had begun to gather. It was gratifying to see the Bingtown Traders at least show them this much support. Most of those who came were from liveship families. Perhaps only a seafaring family could appreciate their predicament. Some were dressed as if they had planned to bid them farewell. Others were the captains or crew members of other liveships currently in port. It was, Malta decided, a substantial turnout for such a venture. A few even paused to speak to Davad. The Trader had sagaciously stationed himself by Brashen, where anyone coming aboard must greet him as well. Malta gathered that he had been able to restore slightly his reputation with the other Traders by acting as a go-between in this arrangement. Even so, the greetings they gave him were formal and brief. Davad beamed as if he didn't know any better. At the slightest excuse, he began a well-rehearsed and long-winded account of all he had done to make today possible. Malta was careful to stay out of earshot and not make eye contact with him. The man was a toad.

“Coming, Malta?” her aunt asked her with a smile. She gestured that they were about to leave the foredeck and be shown the rest of the vessel. Malta had no desire to see the holds or the smelly quarters.

“I think I shall stay here,” she ventured. “It's too lovely of a day to go below.”

“Well, I'm going,” Selden declared boldly and tugged free of her hand.

Althea looked troubled for an instant. Her glance strayed to the crewmen nearby. Plainly, she did not think she should leave her niece in such company. Then her look suddenly cleared and she nodded. “Of course you may.”

Malta glanced over her shoulder. Amber was standing behind her, leaning on the rail by the figurehead. Some sort of sign had passed between Althea and Amber. Althea now felt Malta would be safe. Interesting.

And interesting, too, to be left in the company of such a mysterious and scandalous figure as the foreign bead-maker.

“Behave yourself, Malta,” Keffria cautioned her daughter worriedly, but she allowed Althea to lead her away with Grandmother. As soon as they had left the deck, Malta focused her attention on Amber. She put a social smile on her face and extended a hand toward the woman.

“Best wishes for your voyage, Mistress Amber.”

The woman looked coolly amused. “Thank you, Mistress Haven.” She merely inclined her head, but it was as courtly as a bow. She touched Malta's hand briefly with the tips of her gloved fingers. It sent a little shiver up Malta's arm. The woman was so strange. Amber shifted her eyes to stare out over the sea. Malta wondered if it were an attempt to end the conversation. She refused to let it die.

“It seems you have good weather for an auspicious start.”

“Yes. It does indeed.” Amber's voice was polite.

“And the ship seems to be in excellent condition.”

“I would venture to agree with that, also.”

“The crew seems fit and ready.”

“Captain Trell has trained them as thoroughly as time has permitted.”

“Indeed, it seems that all aspects are favorable for this voyage.” Malta suddenly tired of the game. “Do you think there is any chance you'll succeed?” she asked bluntly. She needed to know. Was this all a fanciful exercise, a show of caring by her family, or was there truly a chance they might rescue her father?

“There is always a chance of anything happening,” Amber replied. Her voice was suddenly serious. She turned back to face her. The intensity of her sympathy burned Malta. “And when anyone takes action to attempt to make something happen, that something becomes more likely. Many folk have taken actions to try to rescue your family's ship and your father and brother, Malta.” When Amber spoke her name, Malta had no choice but to meet her eyes. They were strange eyes, and it was not just the color. Somehow, that did not matter. She could feel the other woman's words reach for her. “We have no other focus than rescuing them. I cannot promise you that we will succeed, but we shall sincerely try.”

“I don't know if your words make me feel better or worse.”

“What I want to tell you is that you have done all that you can. Be content with it. You have a wild young heart; right now, it is like a caged bird that batters itself against the bars. To struggle harder will only hurt you more. Wait. Be patient. Your time will come to fly. And when it does, you must be strong, not bloodied and weary.” Amber's eyes went suddenly wider. “Beware of one who would claim your wings for her own. Beware of one who would make you doubt your own strength. Your discontent is founded in your destiny, Malta. A small life will never satisfy you.”