"Shut up!" Reyn drew in a deep breath. "A moment, please," he said thickly. Despite his veil, he turned his back on Grag. He bowed his head and clenched his hands, willing that the tears would not spill, that his throat would not close up and choke him.

"I'm sorry," Grag apologized again.

Reyn sighed. "No. I should apologize. You don't know, you can't know everything I've been through. I'm surprised that you've heard anything at all. Listen. Malta is dead, the Satrap is dead." A strange laugh bubbled up in him. "I should be dead. I feel I am dead. But… no. Listen. Malta went into the buried city for my sake. There was a dragon there. The dragon was… between lives. In a coffin or a cocoon type of thing… I don't know what to call it. The dragon had been tormenting me, invading my dreams, twisting my thoughts. Malta knew. She wanted to make it stop."

"A dragon?" Grag's voice was questioning of both the word and Reyn's sanity.

"I know it's a wild tale!" Reyn's denial of Grag's interruption was fierce. "Don't ask me questions and don't look skeptical. Just listen." Swiftly he recounted all that had happened that day. At the end of his tale, he lifted his veiled eyes to challenge Grag's incredulous stare. "If you don't believe me, ask the Kendry. The ship saw the dragon as well. It… changed him. He has been morose since then, constantly seeking his captain's approval and closeness. We have been concerned for him."

In a softer voice, Reyn went on, "I never saw Malta again. They're dead, Grag. There was no plot to steal the Satrap from Trehaug. Only a girl, trying to survive an earthquake. She didn't succeed. We searched the whole length of the river, twice. There was no sign of them. The river ate the boat and they perished in the water. It's a horrible way to drown."

"Sa's breath." Grag shuddered. "Reyn, you're right, I didn't know. In Bingtown, all we've heard are conflicting rumors. We heard that the Satrap was missing or dead in the quake. Then a rumor started that the Vestrits had stolen him to sell him to the Chalcedeans or let the New Traders kill him. Ronica Vestrit has been hiding here with us. Caern has put it about that she must be captured and held. At any other time, we would have urged Ronica to go to the Council and demand that they hear her. But lately, there have been some ugly reprisals against folk that Roed Caern has accused of being traitors. I don't know why the Companion trusts him so. It's dividing the Bingtown Council, for some say we must listen to her as the Satrap's representative, while my father and I feel it is time Bingtown kept its own counsel."

He took a breath. Gently, as if fearing his words would injure Reyn more, he added, "Roed has been saying that the Vestrits plotted with the Chalcedeans. He says that maybe pirates never took their liveship, but hints that Kyle Haven has been part of his 'conspiracy, that maybe he took Vivacia up the Rain Wild River to pick up the Satrap and Malta. Well, too many of us know the lie of that, so he changed his tune, and said it didn't have to be a liveship, maybe it was a Chalcedean ship."

"Roed's a fool," broke in Reyn. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. We've had ships, Chalcedean and others, try to come up the river. The river eats them. They try all the tricks we know don't work: they grease their hulls or tar them. One ship was even shingled with baked clay." Reyn shook his veiled head. "They all perish, some fast, some slow. Besides, there have been liveships on patrol at the mouth of the Rain Wild River since this all started. They'd have been seen."

Grag grimaced. "You have more faith in our patrols than I do. There has been an onslaught of Chalcedean ships. We chase them out of the harbor, and while we are gone, another wave comes in. I'm surprised you got past them as easily as you did."

Reyn shrugged. "You're right, I suppose. When the Kendry came out of the river mouth, there were no other liveships about. We sighted several Chalcedean vessels on our way here, however. Most gave us a wide berth; liveships have a reputation now, thanks to your Ophelia. One Chalcedean ship seemed interested in us last night, but Kendry soon left it behind."

A moment of silence fell between them. Reyn turned his back on Grag and peeled off his wet shirt. As he shrugged into a dry one, Grag said, "There is so much happening, I can't grasp it all. A dragon? Somehow, it is easier to believe in a dragon than to believe Malta is dead. When I think of her, I can only see her as she looked that night in your arms on the dance floor."

Reyn closed his eyes. A small white upturned face stared at him from a tiny boat shooting down the river. "I envy you that," he said quietly.

"YOU ARE THE TRADER FOR THE VESTRITS. YOU DECIDE FOR THE FAMILY. If you do not wish to be involved in this, I understand. But as for myself, I remain here." Ronica took a breath. "I stand here as myself only. But know, Keffria, that if you decide to go to the Bingtown Council, I will stand with you there, also. You would have to be the one to present our view there. The Bingtown Council would not let me speak on the matter of Davad's death. They will surely refuse to hear me on this. Nevertheless, I will stand by you while you speak. And accept the consequences."

"And I would say what?" Keffria demanded wearily. "If I tell them that I don't know what became of Malta, let alone the Satrap, it sounds like a deception."

"You have one other alternative. You and Selden can flee Bingtown. You might be left at peace in Inglesby for a time. Unless someone decided to win favor with Serilla and Caern by hunting you down there."

Keffria leaned her forehead into her hands. Heedless of how it might look to the others, she rested her elbows on the table. "Bingtown is not like that. It won't come to that." She waited for someone to agree, but no one spoke. She lifted her head and looked at the grave faces that confronted her.

Too much was happening too fast. They had allowed her time to bathe, and she was dressed in a fresh gown from one of the Tenira women. She'd had a simple meal in her room, and then she had been summoned down to this gathering. She had had little time with her mother. "Malta's dead," she had said to her as her mother hugged her in greeting. Ronica had stiffened in Keffria's arms and closed her eyes, and when she had opened them, Keffria had seen the grief in her mother's eyes over the death of her wayward granddaughter. It glittered there like ice, cold and immutable, too solid for tears. For a brief time, they shared sorrow, and oddly that had healed much of the rift between them.

But whereas Keffria wanted to huddle somewhere until this incomprehensible pain passed, her mother insisted that they go on living. For her, that meant fighting as well, fighting for Bingtown and Selden's future. Ronica had accompanied her to her room and helped her change into the dry clothes.

While she did so, she spoke hurriedly of Bingtown. The words had rattled and flown past Keffria's ears: a breakdown of the Bingtown Council's ability to rule. Roed Caern and a handful of other young Traders terrorizing families that did not agree with his ideas. A need to create a new governing body for Bingtown, one that encompassed all the folk who lived there. A lecture on politics was the last thing Keffria wanted or needed just now. She had nodded numbly, repeatedly, until Ronica had departed to confer with Jani Khuprus. There had been a brief time of peace and solitude. Then Keffria had descended, Selden at her side, to find this mixed company of folk in the grand hall of the Tenira mansion.

It was an odd gathering around Naria Tenira's great table. The Tenira family filled one set of chairs. Seated next to them, in a row, were representatives from at least six Trader families. Keffria recognized Devouchet and Risch. The others she did not know by name; the introductions had eluded her weary brain. Two women and a man with tattooed faces filled the next chairs, and beside them sat four folk who, by their garb, were Three Ships immigrants. Reyn and Jani Khuprus came next, and completing the circle were the three remaining Vestrits. Keffria found herself at Naria Tenira's left hand. The Trader woman had insisted that Selden be seated at the table and admonished the boy to pay great attention. "This is your future unfolding, lad. You've a right to witness how it comes into being."