Dentius grunted and drew back. He had the mentality of a shark, she'd decided: all straight-ahead brute force, but stupid and immobile when stopped. Her bravado seemed to have stymied him—or at least, it had reminded him of what she'd already done.

"Why'd you shoot the captain?" he asked suddenly.

Venera smiled. "Why? Because he was the one other person on board who knew our destination."

Dentius let go of her hair. At that moment one of his obsequious mates appeared in the doorway. "Inventory's done, Captain," he said in a familiar accent she couldn't quite place. "Strictly military, except for some paintings. Probably going to trade those at the voyeur's palace."

Dentius nodded, eyeing Venera speculatively. Then he drew a knife out of his boot. She drew back, but he merely reached up to cut the length of rope holding her to the beam. "We'd best talk further," he said, as he towed her out of the hangar and into the remains of battle: drifting droplets of blood and hanging balls of smoke, wood splinters, and tumbling scarves of bandage.

As he dragged her with bumps and jerks through the wooden ribs of the ship, Venera tried to keep her wits. She needed a sense of who was still alive, and where they were. The rocket racks were essentially iron cages, so it was easy to see their inhabitants. None of the senior officers was visible, only able airmen who stared at her listlessly or with fear. Was Chaison dead, then?

Dentius hauled her into the axle of the centrifuge, which had been spun up. Exhausted or wounded pirates lolled in hammocks at the rim of the wheel; she heard both moaning and laughter. "My cabin," she said to Dentius, pointing with her tied hands.

"Captain's cabin," he said. "You his woman?"

She shook her head. Chaison Fanning had appropriated Sembry's cabin, causing the Rook's captain to have to bunk elsewhere. "I was the admiral's wife," she admitted. "But he's dead and lost in the clouds now."

Venera had no doubt that Dentius would have asked the tortured men about her. There was no point in trying to deny her status.

Without comment Dentius shoved her into the cabin, which was a shambles of overturned chests and jumbled clothing. Most of the contents had been Sembry's of course; Chaison traveled light.

Her jewel box lay on the floor, its lid up, the fated bullet that had struck her jaw still on its velvet bed inside. The centrifuge's spin was making her nauseated so Venera went to sit on the edge of the bed, making a show of straightening her clothes.

"So…" Dentius gnawed at one calloused knuckle. "Why'd you kill the rest of the bridgers?"

She shrugged. "They… objected to my tactics."

Dentius laughed. "Venera Fanning, that's your name, isn't it?"

"Aye," she said, lifting her chin. Her heart was hammering in her chest; raised though she was in the arts of deceit, Venera doubted she could keep her calm demeanor for long.

Dragging over a chair, Dentius sat down and clasped his hands in his lap. "So," he said in a horrible parody of politeness, "what brings you to our winter, Venera Fanning?"

"Treasure," she said promptly. "Somewhat ironically… pirate treasure, to be exact."

Dentius shook his head. "If there were anything worth having out here, I'd have taken it and built a fleet to reconquer Aerie, years ago. Nobody brings treasure into winter. Anybody here who's got it, takes it somewhere sunny."

"I know," she said. "But that wasn't always the case. There've been times when convoys ran through winter regularly, shipping goods between the principalities of Candesce and the outer nations. And during those periods, there was treasure to be had."

Dentius thought for a while. His face, which had appeared that of a brutal simpleton just minutes ago, relaxed by degrees into that of a weary, disappointed man. After a while he said, "I've heard the fairy tales. We all have. There was even a time when I believed in such things." with a faint smile he added, "It's Anetene, isn't it? You're talking about the—how would you put it, 'the fabled treasure of Anetene.'"

Venera frowned past his tired skepticism. "I was," she said. "We were on our way to the tourist station, because that's where the map is."

Dentius laughed. "You've got to be out of your mind," he said. "Anetene's a legend. Sure, he lived and he was a great pirate.The less intellectually endowed members of my crew swear by him. But the treasure's pure myth."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But the map to it is real."

His lips curled in sly indulgence. "And what would an admiral of Slipstream be doing hunting pirate treasure in winter?"

"As to that…" She looked away, making a faint moue. "Slip-stream's finances are not in the greatest of shapes at the moment, if you get my meaning. The pilot is not the cleverest of men when it comes to state funds."

"You've a deficit to pay off?" Dentius grinned.

"It's more like, the pilot has a deficit he's told the people about… and then theres the real deficit."

"You're wanting to forestall a political scandal, I get that." Dentius shook his head. "The whole story is preposterous on the face of it, and you know it. So why are you trying to put this one over on me?"

"Because the treasure is real," she said. "But I realize that I can't convince you of that." Now she hesitated: how far could she push this man? If she played the next hand, he might kill her. But if she gave in to fear he would have won; the bullet would have won. "There's another consideration," she said slowly. "I saw how you and your men fared during the battle. You have your own deficit now, Captain Dentius: you've just paid far more in men and ships than you've gotten back. Am I wrong in thinking that this is going to cause you some… political problems… of your own?"

Dentius's face flushed with anger. He stood up, knocking over the chair. "We're going to kill all of you for starters," he said. "Very bloody, very visible. My men will have their revenge."

"Yes but will that be enough?" Venera allowed herself a small, ironic smile. "You know that the other captains won't be impressed. You lost ships, Dentius."

He didn't answer. 

"Killing us will be a good diversion," Venera continued. "But you need a better diversion. One that will last longer, until the memories of this debacle have faded.You've got to give your men hope, Captain Dentius, or else you may be out of a job."

"In other words," he said, "it hardly matters at this point whether the treasure of Anetene really exists…"

"As long as there's a map. Something to give the other captains." She nodded. "And there is a map."

Dentius leaned against the wall for a while; he was obviously not comfortable in gravity. Finally he nodded once, sharply. "Done. You show us to the map, you get to keep your life."

"And my virtue."

"Can't guarantee that. But let's say it's on the table." He grinned and turned to leave. "Cabin's yours. Anything else your grace requires?"

Life, not death, lay ahead—at least for now—so Venera decided to ask about the one thing that Dentius might be willing to indulge. 

"There is something…"

Dentius turned, surprised. Venera knelt down and retrieved her jewel box. She plucked out the bullet and held it up, next to her jaw.

"We have a history, this bullet and I," she said. "If I live, and if someday I gain my freedom again, I want to know where it came from."

He was obviously impressed. "Why?"

There was no pretense behind her smile now. "So that I can go there," she said, "and kill everyone connected to it."

A BLACK WING lifted. Hayden blinked at a blurred jumble of shadows and silhouettes. Mumbles and tearing sounds came to his ears; someone was tugging at his shirt. He couldn't feel any surface under him so he must be weightless. He was also very cold. And in the distance, the faintly annoying two-tone sound of the Rook's engines rumbled.