Althea reached overhead, to press her hands against the exposed timbers of the Vivacia’s body. She could feel the near-life of the ship thrumming through them. It was not just the vibration of the wood as the ship cut the water, it was not even the thud of the sailors’ feet on the decks or their gull cries as they sang out in response to the mate’s commands. It was the life of the Vivacia herself, so close to waking. The Vivacia was a liveship. Sixty-three years ago, her keel had been laid, and that long true timber had been wizardwood. The wood of her figurehead was also wizardwood, harvested
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