The man's voice . . . was Renna's. A small knot of worry unraveled. I haven't lost him yet.

"Yeah, well, if I'd kept my ears an' eyes open, I'd have connected her with those rumors goin' around, an' gone ashore to check for myself instead of sittin' on the ship like a dorit."

The higher voice was also familiar, tugging at Maia's recollection from what seemed ages ago, in a different life.

"And how about me? Swallowing a Mickey Finn, and letting those women carry me off like a partridge on a pole?"

"Swallowing a Mick . . . ? Ah, you mean a Summer Soother."

Maia's breath caught in surprise. Naroin! What is she doing here?

Where is here?

"Yeah. Pretty dumb, all right. I thought spacemen were supposed to be smartguys."

Renna chuckled ruefully. "Smart? Not especially. Not by the enhanced standards of some places I've visited. The main trait they seem to want in peripatetics is patience. We — Say, did you hear that? I think she's stirring."

Maia felt a small cool hand along the side of her face.

"Hello, Maia? Can you hear me, younger? It's me, your old master-at-arms from the Wotan. Eia! Up an' at 'em."

The hand was callused, not smooth. Yet it felt good just having someone touch her again. Someone who meant her well. Maia almost feigned sleep, to prolong it.

"I …" Her first word came out more a croak than decipherable speech. "C-can't . . . open my eyes . . ." The lids felt locked shut by crusty dryness. A damp cloth passed gently over her brow, moistening them. When it pulled away, the world entered as brightness. Maia blinked and could not stop. Without conscious will, her leaden hands lifted to rub her eyes clumsily.

Two familiar faces swam into focus, framed against wood paneling and a ship's porthole.

"Where …" Maia licked her lips and found her mouth too dry to salivate. "Where bound?"

Both Naroin and Renna smiled, expressing relief.

"You gave us a scare," Renna answered. "But you're all right, now. We're heading due west across the Mother Ocean, so our destination seems likely to be Landing Continent. One of the big port cities, I figure. Better for their plans than where they found us, out in the boondocks."

"They?" Bleariness kept intruding, causing the pale man and dark-haired woman to split into four overlapping figures. "You mean Kiel? And Thalia and Baltha?"

Naroin shook her head. "Baltha's just a hired stick, like me. We aren't part of the Big Scheme. Those other two are the paymasters. Seems a secret league of Rads has got plans for your starman, here."

"No end to excitement on wonderful Stratos," Renna added sardonically.

"Maybe … you could write a travel guide book," Maia suggested, concentrating to control her dizziness. Renna laughed, especially when Naroin looked at them both quizzically and asked what in Lysos's name a "travel guide" was.

"What are you doing here?" Maia asked the woman sailor. "This can't be Wotan."

That much was obvious. Every surface wasn't coated with a film of black, anthracite dust. Naroin grimaced. "Nah. Wotan banged into a lighter in Artemesia Bay. Captain Pegyul an' I had words over it, so I took my wages an' papers an' got another berth. Just my luck to land one haulin' the weirdest atyp contraband I ever saw — no offense, Starman."

"None taken." Renna appeared unbothered. "Think we'll have any chance to jump ship along the way?"

"Wouldn't bet on it, Shoulders. That's one crowd o' dogged vars escortin' you. B'sides, I'm not sure I wouldn't let things ride, if I was you. There's a lot worse lookin' for your handsy alien tors than's got you right now, if you follow. Even worse than crazy Perkie farmers."

Renna wore a guarded expression. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you know?" Naroin shrugged and changed the subject. "I'll go tell the customers our drowned wharf mouse has come around. Just you two remember the first rule o' summerling survival." She tapped the side of her head. "Small mouth. Big ears."

Naroin gave Maia a parting wink and left, sliding the cabin door shut along its rails. Renna watched her go, shaking his head slowly, then turned back to Maia. "Want some water?"

She nodded. "Please."

He cradled her head while holding a brown earthenware cup to her mouth. Renna's hands felt so much larger than Naroin's, if not noticeably stronger. He laid Maia's head back on the folded blanket she had been given for a pillow.

Or rather, lent. I don't own a thing in the world, Maia thought, recalling the betrayal of Thalia and Kiel, that naked sprint through the streets of Grange Head, and her plummet into the icy bay. And my best, maybe only, friend on Stratos is a stranger who knows even less than I do.

The thought would have made her laugh bitterly, if she had energy to spare. Maia fought a losing battle just to keep her eyes open.

"That's all right," Renna commented. "Sleep. I'll stay right here."

She shook her head. "How long …"

"You were out most of three days. Had to drain half a liter of water out of you, when they dragged you aboard."

So much for those swimming lessons the mothers paid for, she thought. Laps in the Port Sanger municipal pool had prepared her for real-life trials about as well as the rest of Lamatia's much-vaunted summerling education.

"You've been here all the time?" Maia questioned Renna through an enveloping languor. He dismissed it with an offhand wave. "Had to go to the can once or twice, and . . . oh! I held onto something for you. Thought you might want it when you woke."

Maia could barely focus on the glitter of brass as he slipped a small object, cool and rounded, between her hand and the coverlet. My sextant! she realized happily. It was just a silly, half-broken tool, of little utility. Yet it meant so much to have something familiar. Something allied to memories. Something that was hers. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Hey, hey," Renna soothed. "Just rest now. I'll be here."

Maia wanted to protest that no one had to keep watch over her, but she lacked the will to speak. Part of her felt it was untrue.

Renna gently placed his hand over the one holding the sextant. His touch was warm, his calluses more evenly spread than Naroin's coarse ridges. They must have come from more subtle labors, or perhaps even deliberate exercise; though, as she drifted off, Maia found herself wondering why anyone would ever lift a finger she or he didn't have to. Better, it seemed, simply to lie in bed forever.

"What are you going to do, make me lie in bed forever?" Maia pounded the covers with both fists, causing the doctor to pull away the stethoscope. "Now, don't get all worked up. I just said you should take it easy awhile. You're young an' strong, though. Get up whenever you like."

"Eia!" Maia shouted, throwing the covers aside and bounding onto the wooden deck. Too quickly. She felt a rush of dizziness, but refused to let it show. "Anybody have some clothes to lend me? I'll work off the debt first thing."

"You don't owe anybody," Kiel said from the foot of the bed. "We'll make up what was in the package we left for you, at the hotel. Clothes and some money. It's yours, free and clear."

"I don't want your charity," Maia snapped.

Standing across the small cabin, by the door, Thalia frowned unhappily. "Now don't be mad, Maia. We only—"

"Who's mad?" Maia interrupted, clenching a fist. "I understand why you did it. You've got big-time, political uses for Renna, and figured I'd just get in the way. Even though I'm a var like you."

Thalia and Kiel looked pained, and relieved that Renna had stepped outside during the examination. "We're engaged in dangerous business," Kiel tried to explain.

"Too dangerous for me, but okay for Renna?"

"It's probably a lot safer for the alien to come with us, than simply handing him over to the PES in Grange Head. There are … factions in Caria City. Factions that don't have sweet plans for our Outsider."