passion-filled night with Lozarr. Then he remembered the lines of sorrow at either side of Lo's mouth and realized that couldn't have happened.
"Tell me about our journey," Vistaren said.
Arama smiled. "It's ill luck to say a voyage should be easy, highness." She sipped from a thick-walled mug. "I have made the run from Maron to Ranarr more times than I can count. If I skim in close to the Blades and have following seas, I can do it under three days. This trip, we'll swing well wide of the Blades and make the voyage in a week."
Vistaren nodded. "The Dawn Star is a fine vessel. I've read of your exploits, of course."
"I hope your highness does not expect battles at sea," Arama said. Her mouth was quirked up. Vistaren thought she was teasing him.
He made a show of mulling it over. "Not unless you feel it absolutely necessary, Captain," he said finally. "I understand it is a serious request to make of you."
She laughed. "Your father would have me keel-hauled if I involved you in a sea battle, Prince Vistaren." Her amusement warmed him. She thought he was funny. Then her expression sobered. "And I suspect your bride-to-be would object, as well."
It was like she'd doused him in cold water. "Indeed." He helped himself to several slices of bacon. He didn't want to think about Princess Azmei. "I have complete confidence in you, Captain Dzornaea, to see us safely to Ranarr."
She inclined her torso, which impressed Vistaren. He'd never realized one could bow effectively while seated. He dismissed the topic with a flick of his hand. "Tell me, Captain, how are the seas this morning? I have little sailing experience, so while I find the rocking of the ship exhilarating, I have no idea if we are in heavy seas or...well, whatever isn't heavy seas."
Arama laughed. "The sea is in a fine mood today, your highness. Having little sailing experience is no flaw, but we shall fill that lack before we reach Ranarr."
She launched into a lecture about the many moods of the sea. Vistaren felt his shoulders relaxing as Arama spoke, and soon he had all but forgotten he was sailing to meet his bride.
CHAPTER THREE
He sings out of his loneliness.
There is no answer. There has never been an answer.
He is aware of those who, like him, traverse the deeps and celebrate the cycle of dry and wet and storms. He is aware that he is not the only being of his kind. Yet he is alone.
There are other songs. He feels the songs against his skin, pulsing through him, resonating with the loneliness inside him. Those who are like him--like, yet unlike, somehow--sing too, but their songs are subtly different.
He tries to mimic them, but how can he perceive how his songs are received? He can only know how their songs feel on his skin, in his innermost being. He cannot imagine what his songs feel like to others.
Yet he sings on. Someone will answer him. Someday, somehow.
Someone will answer his loneliness.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Captain Dzornaea." Kinnet smoothed her skirts and watched the back of the captain's head. When the captain turned to face her, Kinnet made herself smile.
"Stormwitch Ardelis." Kinnet appreciated how careful Arama was to keep her face turned toward her. "Is there trouble?"
Kinnet inclined her torso, keeping her gaze on Arama's face. "I feel...echoes. I think echoes. I..." She drew her brows together. "I am not sure."
"Echoes of...power?" Arama asked. "Of a storm? Is there something building?"
Kinnet spread her hands and opened her mouth. After several seconds, she huffed out a breath and clenched her fists. "Echoes. My feet feel them. Through the floor."
"Deck," Arama corrected.
"Deck. They shake." Kinnet shook her head. "Vibrate."
Arama scrubbed a hand through short, blue-black hair. "What do you think it is?" she asked at last.
"I..." Kinnet let her gaze go unfocused as she searched again for any hint of recognition. "I don't know. I have never felt this before."
Arama swore. "What can you do?" She scraped
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