“I’m putting Sedric at your disposal for your Rain Wild folly,” he’d announced abruptly on entering the breakfast room the morning after their confrontation. Standing, he had helped himself to food and tea. “Use him however you wish,” he’d continued. As Sedric entered, Hest hadn’t even glanced at him, and only added, “He’s to obey your every command. Protect you. Entertain you. Whatever you wish of him. I’m sure you’ll find him delightful.” Those last words were uttered with such disdain that she’d flinched.
And then Hest had left the room. As she’d turned toward Sedric in confusion she’d been shocked to see how dejected he appeared. Her efforts at conversation as he picked at his breakfast had faltered and died.
Hest hadn’t even waited for her departure date before embarking on another trading jaunt of his own. He’d filled the house with his busyness and invited two of his younger friends to accompany him. In the days before his departure, he’d kept Sedric dashing about on errands, securing papers for passage, picking up a new wardrobe that Hest had ordered, and procuring a stock of excellent wine and viands to accompany him on his journey. Sedric’s obvious unhappiness with the situation had made her feel sorry for him, and she had done her best to make her own arrangements for travel, to spare him a bit of time for himself. Yet she could not regret her decision finally to make this journey. And strange as it was that Hest had chosen Sedric to accompany her, she could not have been more delighted with the prospect. The idea of having her old friend to herself for a time while on an adventure to see dragons had filled her with cheery anticipation. She had hoped to find him equally enthused.
But in the weeks before they left, and especially after Hest had departed, Sedric had seemed gloomy, even uncharacteristically snappish with her. He’d obeyed Hest’s directive, arriving promptly at breakfast every day to report travel tasks completed and request his duties for the day. They’d spoken, but not had conversations. A few days before their departure, he’d begged some time to himself, to dine with one of Hest’s Chalcedean trading partners who had arrived unexpectedly in Bingtown. She’d been glad to let him have the evening to himself, in the hopes it would bolster his spirits. But the next morning, when she asked him if his meeting with Begasti Cored had gone well, he had quickly changed the subject to the details of her own journey, and he found a dozen tasks for himself to do that day.
Once they’d boarded the Paragon, she had hoped his spirits would lift. Instead, he’d spent the early days of their journey sequestered in his cabin, pleading seasickness. She’d doubted that excuse; he’d traveled so much with Hest that surely he must have the stomach for it by now. Nonetheless, she’d left him in peace and occupied herself with exploring the liveship and trying to get to know the crew. So she had been cheered when Sedric joined her on deck that day, and pleased that he now spoke to her, even if the question was rueful rather than engaged.
“It was the only ship with room for two passengers that was leaving at the right time,” she admitted.
“Ah.” He pondered that for a moment. “So when you told Hest you had already booked passage, that was a lie?”
His words were flat, not really an accusation, but they still stung. She retreated but did not surrender. “Not a lie, exactly. I’d made my plans, even if I hadn’t yet purchased my tickets.” She looked out over the roiled gray water. “If I hadn’t said I was going, he’d have ignored me again. Or put me off. I had to do it, Sedric.” She turned to face him. Despite his glum expression, he looked rather jaunty in a white shirt and blue coat. The sea wind made his uncovered hair dance on his brow. She smiled at him and offered sincerely, “I’m sorry that you got caught up in my quarrel with Hest. I know this isn’t a journey you’d choose.”
“No. Nor would I choose a jinxed ship to make it on.”
“Jinxed ship? This one?”
“The Paragon? Don’t look at me like that, Alise. Everyone in Bingtown knows this liveship and his reputation. He rolled and killed his entire crew, what, five times?” Sedric shook his head at her. “And you book us as passengers aboard him for a trip up the Rain Wild River.”
Alise turned away from him. She was suddenly very aware of the railing under her hands. It was made of wizardwood, as they used to call it, as was a great deal of the ship’s hull, and his entire figurehead. The Paragon was a wakened liveship, that is, he was selfaware and his figurehead interacted with his crew, supercargo, and dock crews just as if he were human. She had heard that liveships were conscious of every word spoken aboard them, and certainly the very light thrumming of the wood beneath her hands made him seem alive. So she spoke her words firmly. “It happened, but I am certain it was not five times. That was long ago, Sedric. From all I have heard, he is a changed ship now, and a much happier one.” She shot her companion a look that begged him to either be silent or change the subject. He leaned back from her, raising one well-shaped eyebrow in confusion. She continued quickly, “Knowing what we know now about the so-called wizardwood, I cannot blame him for anything he did. Indeed, to me it is a wonder that the liveships recovered so well from finally grasping exactly what they were and how they had been created. What we Traders did was unforgivable. In their place, I doubt if I would be so gracious.”