“Lavoy! What is going on here?” Brashen roared. “Why haven't you put a stop to this?”

“Sir?” Lavoy looked puzzled. He glanced over at Althea and Artu as if he had only just now noticed them. “Not my watch, sir. The second seems to have it well in hand.” He hardened his voice to that of command as he asked her, “Am I correct? Can you handle your task, Althea?” She halted where she stood to look at him. “I'm throwing the rotten meat overboard, like you ordered. Sir.” She put another half-twist on the hook as she spoke.

For a moment, all was still. Lavoy transferred his quizzical look to Brashen. The captain shrugged. “Carry on.” He began fastening his shirt as if it did not concern him. He lifted his eyes to look over the water and see what sort of weather lay before them.

Artu howled like a kicked dog and began to struggle. She dragged him closer to the rail, wondering if she would really do it. Suddenly Lop appeared on deck. He was carrying two buckets; the smell told her what they held. “I found the bad meat. I found it,” he bellowed and rushed past her to the railing. “Cask was smashed. It is all over down there, but we'll get it cleaned up, right Artu? We'll get it cleaned up.” He heaved one load over the side. As he lifted the second bucket, a serpent's head broke the water.

It snapped at the fall of foul meat as Lop staggered back, screaming.

“Serpent! Serpent!” Paragon added his roar to the sudden commotion.

Althea let go of the cargo hook. Artu scrambled backwards from the railing, the hook handle clacking against the deck as he went. For a long instant, she and the serpent stared at one another, eye to eye. Its scales were the green of new spring foliage, with immense eyes as yellow as dandelions. Each individual scale overlapped two others in a precise pattern that begged the eye to follow it. The largest scales on its back were bigger than her hand, while around the eyes its scales were tinier than grains of wheat. For a moment, the beauty of the immense animal transfixed her. Then it opened jaws that could have easily engulfed a whole man. She looked into a shockingly red mouth edged with rows of teeth. It shook its head back and forth with a questioning roar. She stood stock-still. It closed its mouth and stared at her.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye. A man running with a boat hook. At the same instant came Brashen's shouted warning, “Don't anger it! Leave it alone!”

She turned and flung herself at Haff. The sailor brandished the long gaff like a weapon, shouting, “I'm not afraid!” The pallor of his face told a different story. She caught at his arm and tried to stop him.

“It just wants food. Leave it alone. It might go away. Haff. Leave it alone!”

He shook her off impatiently. Her bruised hands were suddenly too sore to grip. She fell away from him as he spurned her. In horror, she watched him swing the hook.

“No!” Brashen roared, but the gaff was already in motion. It struck the animal on the snout, glancing harmlessly off the overlapping scales until the hook reached a nostril. More by chance than aim, the hook caught there and dug in.

In horror, Althea watched the creature throw its head back. The gaff went with it and Haff held on with the game stupidity of a pit dog. In an instant, the serpent seemed to double in size. Its neck swelled, and an immense ruff of poisonous quills suddenly stood out stiff around its face and throat. It roared again, and this time a fine spray flew from its mouth. Where it struck the deck, the wood smoked. Althea heard Paragon cry out in distress. The drift of poison stung Althea's skin like a sunburn. Haff shrieked as he was engulfed in a fog of the stuff. He let go of the gaff and fell bonelessly to the deck. He was either unconscious or dead. The serpent abruptly cocked its head, eyeing the prone man. Then it darted its head at Haff.

She was the only one close enough to do anything. Even if the only thing she could do was stupid, she could not watch the serpent just eat the man. She sprang and caught the wooden handle of the gaff. It felt pitted and splintered from the serpent's breath. She grasped it, and threw her weight against it to jerk the creature's head off target. From somewhere, Lop had appeared. He flung an empty wooden bucket at the serpent's head. In the same motion, he grabbed Haffs ankles and dragged him back.

That left Althea as the serpent's sole target. She tightened her grip on the gaff and shoved with all her might. She expected the wood handle to give way at any moment. Momentarily, her push and the serpent's pain turned the creature's head away from her. It breathed another rush of spittle that pocked Paragon's deck. The liveship shrieked again. Behind her, other voices were raised, Lavoy commanding men to put on sail, men yelling in anger or terror, but above all was the ship's amazed and furious cry. “I know you!” Paragon roared. “I know you!” Amber shouted a question but Althea could not make it out. She gripped the hook desperately. The haft was weakening in her hands, but it was the only weapon she had.