“What does that mean?” Jean-Claude said. “In terms a simple-but-honest peasant can understand.”

“You were never simple. Or honest. But all it really means is Gephardt was trying to solve an unsolvable problem.” She drummed her fingers on the page, and for a moment Jean-Claude could not tell if she was lost in thought or being visited by her ancestors.

“I have another responsibility for you,” she said, and led him into the chartroom. A vaporgram simulacrum of the Spiral Archipelago filled the orrery, an inward curl of small skylands mostly inhabited by fisherfolk. Joubert’s Folly turned in the center, a larger rock tilted like a top that was just beginning to wobble.

Isabelle drew from her pouch a quondam metal ring and held it up to the light. “This, apparently, is the key to the Vault of Ages…” She filled him in on her visit from Sireen and her confrontation with Sagax Quill. “And it occurs to me that Hasdrubal knows the ring is on this ship. That’s why he had Quill attacked on the way to board. He didn’t get the ring then, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try again. I am commanded by la reine herself to keep this thing safe at all costs. I am delegating that duty to you.”

She handed him the ring, heavy as a deck-gun ball. He closed his fist around it.

“Safe and secret,” he said, and tucked the ring in his pouch. “A secured sanctuary somewhere seriously stealthy, and several similar synonyms starting with s.”

“Succinctly said, soldier,” Isabelle said, and hugged him. “And one more thing.” She opened the orrery’s hyperbaric berths and extracted the Conquest shard with her spark-hand. The freezing mist found no purchase on her sorcerous limb. “Keep this too.”

Puzzled, he took the bone needle and said, “Why?”

Isabelle’s mouth worked as if she were trying to spit out ill-formed words. “Think of it as a check against my head troubles.”

Jean-Claude’s spirit sank. “I thought you had it under control.”

Isabelle bestowed him a brittle smile. “For now. So far it’s visions and voices, but what if it gets worse? What if I can’t concentrate? If I lose my ability to reason, will I be able to recognize it? It’s like asking, ‘When does fog become opaque?’ Is it when I can’t see the horizon, or when I can’t see the bowsprit, or when I can’t see my hand in front of my face? I need someone I trust, who will let me know when it’s time to let go, and who will prize my hand from the wheel if I refuse. The shard is just a little extra precaution. We won’t need it again until well after Joubert’s Folly. If ever it becomes necessary, you can give it to Vrain. Can you do that for me?”