The black ship was bearing a cargo of contraband weapons, firesticks that could kill at a distance. Despite, or perhaps because of, Calimport's strict ordinances against these weapons, Pieraccinni would be able to sell these weapons for an exorbitant profit. But the Night Parade's true gain would be in the terror these weapons would inspire.

The Harpers' plan had been simple enough: Capture the Night Parade's ship and pilot the vessel into less corrupt waters, with as many living, inhuman prisoners on board as possible. By the time the guardsmen from the shore could arrive, Myrmeen, Shandower and the Harpers would be safely away. They had taken rooms at a small inn nearby and would return to the safe house in the morning, when the sunlight would burn away any advantage the Night Parade would have tracking them.

In the derelict vessel, Myrmeen looked out to the choppy waters mournfully.

"Your daughter was not happy with your decision," Lucius whispered in the darkness.

"My daughter's not happy about anything I do," Myrmeen said. "We had to leave her behind. It wasn't safe."

"I know that, but I doubt she is convinced."

Myrmeen was silent.

Lucius suddenly whispered, "I have a daughter."

A shudder passed through Myrmeen. "What did you say?"

"She is not as old as Krystin, but she is approaching that age. I have a son also. He is much younger."

Myrmeen stared into his perfectly set face. She wanted to ask him if he was having a joke at her expense, but she knew what an insult that would be if he were telling the truth. His modest reserve with her from the beginning suddenly made sense. "Do any of the others know about this?"

"No. They have never asked," he said.

Myrmeen looked out at the dark waters. The moon was resting far above the horizon; the evening was the brightest she had seen since she had arrived in Calimport. She was worried about the operation and did not want to become distracted. However, she knew that the others were in place, and that they could be trusted. Myrmeen turned back to Lucius. "You understand, this is somewhat surprising. I mean, no offense, but you seem very solitary, not the type to raise a family"

"I suppose. Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," she said as she turned away. She did not want to deal with this now.

"Look at me," he commanded in his rich, dulcet voice.

She did as he said. "You have the most perfect brown eyes I've ever seen," she said hoarsely.

Lucius blinked. Twice. The lines around his eyes crinkled and his brow furrowed slightly.

"I don't know where that came from," Myrmeen said. She looked away, licked her dry lips, and wondered how she had suddenly become one long, raw nerve. "I'm sorry."

"Do not be."

"Lucius," she said slowly, angry with herself for the words that were tumbling out of her mouth, "I had the feeling you were somewhat, um, interested in me."

"Of course I am. I am interested in the welfare of all people."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

She laughed. "You're good. You're very good."

"So I've been told."

Her eyes flashed open in amazement. "Was that an off-color remark? You can tell me. We're friends."

Lucius rested his hand on her wrist. "Myrmeen, I would like to think that we are friends."

The warmth of his hand surprised her.

"We are," she said, taking his hand in hers, holding it tightly. "This is a frightening place."

"It is."

"In Arabel I'm in control. Here, in so many ways, I'm lost." She stared directly into his brown eyes. "When we're away from all this, can I ask you some questions about having a daughter?"

For the first time since they had met, Lucius smiled. "We have a few minutes. Tell me what you're thinking."

"It's hard to put into words. It's just that I had all these ideas about what it would be like to have a child. I thought it would solve all my problems, but I was wrong. Everything's more complicated. My time with Krystin seems unreal. I feel detached. There's a wall between us and I can't take it down, even though I put it there."

Lucius squeezed her hand. "It is hard to trust anyone."

"You don't understand. There's this part of me that was relieved when Shandower said she might not be my daughter. Inside, I almost want that to be the case."

"Perhaps you should try to see her not as your daughter, but simply as herself."

"I suppose you're right, I-"

Lucius looked up sharply. "They are here."

Averting her gaze from his rich brown eyes, Myrmeen saw the black ship stealing close from the horizon. "How long have they been on the approach?"

"For as long as you have been talking. I saw no need to raise the alarm prematurely."

"Damn," she whispered. "We have to signal the others."

"No. They can see the ship. Let us prepare ourselves. I am certain they are doing the same."

Scowling at the mage, Myrmeen walked across the deck of the abandoned vessel and crouched near the guardrail. At her feet she found a child's toy, a doll. Angrily she kicked it from the deck and winced at the slight splash it made.

The group had been outfitted in dark clothing that would not weigh them down as they swam. Their weapons were sealed in bags that Lucius had made buoyant with his spells. Soon the black ship came within a thousand yards. Myrmeen nodded to Lucius, who lowered her into the waters, then joined her.

They swam toward the ship, Myrmeen afraid that her legs would suddenly cramp up, that she would drown alone and helpless in the dark waters. Then she heard the steady, comforting breath of the mage beside her and her fear slowly dissipated, replaced with a resolve to complete this mission as quickly as possible and try to make amends with her daughter.

They approached the vessel's side, Lucius ahead of Myrmeen. He gripped the rung that jutted from the side of the ship and climbed upward, unencumbered by weapons of any kind. Myrmeen was bothered by the dead weight of the heavy bag slung on her back, the strap pulling on her throat as she climbed. They made it over the top and walked directly into a pair of sailors. Darting out of the way, they were not surprised to go unnoticed; Lucius had cloaked them in a spell of invisibility. They could see each other, but no one else would mark their presence.

Myrmeen and Lucius did not speak as they walked quickly to the bridge. The fighter clutched the molded grip of a blade as they approached the ship's navigator. Beneath Myrmeen's boot, a floorboard groaned loudly. The man at the helm turned suddenly and stared directly at the tall, gaunt mage and his beautiful companion. Then he frowned and turned back to the large wooden wheel that he gripped tightly.

Human, Myrmeen thought with dismay, or so he seems. Lucius glanced down at her foot, then turned his gaze to her face and motioned for her to step on the creaking floorboard again. She leaned on the wooden plank a second time, causing the sailor to spin around in genuine alarm. The man was on edge and Lucius capitalized on this fact as he held out his open palm and blew a handful of dust into the man's face. Myrmeen quickly sheathed her blade as the man fell forward. She caught his limp body with both hands. Dragging the man a half dozen feet, she carefully laid him beside several coils of rope, then she speedily disrobed. Removing his jacket, Myrmeen slipping it over her shivering, waterlogged body, then donned his leggings, boots, and the dark cap he had worn.

Lucius held the wheel for her. She took it as the mage hurried to the unconscious man's side and covered his pale, pink body with a blanket from the adjoining deck. Lucius then released the spell of invisibility that cloaked them. Myrmeen wondered if the others were on board, then committed the ship to its new course. The sailing vessel veered abruptly, engaging on a route that would take it parallel to the shoreline.