Such words coming from the hunter made Leftrin feel even grimmer. “Sa’s blessing,” he replied and watched the man turn and go. “Please, please, find her,” he whispered, and then he went back up on deck to put his own eyes on the river.

As he joined his crew on the deck, he felt their sympathy for him. Swarge, Bellin, Hennesey, and hulking Eider were silent and looked aside from him, as if ashamed they could not give him what he wanted. Skelly came to his side and took his hand. He glanced down at her, seeing his niece for a moment instead of his deckhand when she met his gaze. She gave his rough hand a small squeeze; her pinched mouth and a quick nod of her head let him know that she shared his concern. With no more than that, she left him and went back to her watching post. They are a good crew, he thought with a tight throat. Without a quibble, they had followed him on this jaunt up the river into unknown territory. Part of it was because that was the type of river folk they were: curious, adventurous, and confident of their skills. But a good part of it was that they would go where he and Tarman went. He commanded their lives. Sometimes that knowledge humbled him.

He wondered why he had bothered being evasive with Carson. The man was no fool. The crew’s charade would not have fooled him for long. He knew the boat was sentient, and if he’d had any doubts, Tarman’s rescue of Leftrin last night would have dispersed them. When he’d shouted, the barge had come straight to him, and despite the current, had held himself steady in the river until his captain was safe aboard him again.

Wrapped in a blanket but still dripping, shivering, he’d gone into the galley. “Is Alise all right?” he’d demanded, and the faces of his crew had told him all.

He hadn’t slept since then. And he wouldn’t sleep until he found her.

THE TANGLE OF floating debris was both too thick and not solid enough.