River led him through the linen curtains. “Come and see,” she repeated.

“Dear God in Heaven,” Mal murmured, taking a step backwards and letting go of her hand. “That’s …”

“I wanted to capture it all,” the young woman said, not hearing him. But I think I've gone too far.” She folded her legs under herself and sank gracefully to the floor.

“Too far?”

“Stolen from them. From you.”

He sat down, a little less elegantly, next to her. “How’d you figure that?”

“Taken something I shouldn’t.”

“Well, my pockets don’t seem no lighter than they did this morning. So I think you need to explain a little.”

“Captain-dummy talk?” She smiled slightly.

“If at all possible.”

She leaned against him. “On Earth-that-was, many cultures believed that taking a picture of someone stole a little piece of their soul. Take too many and they cease to exist.”

“And that’s what you think you’ve done here?” he asked, his voice soft, somewhat tender.

“Made it too real. Is it more real than the reality? Is the now fractured because of what I’ve done?” She shook her head, her dark hair coming undone even more from its haphazard clips. She stood up quickly. “I should destroy it before anyone else sees and becomes entwined in the glamour and can’t get loose. Before it sucks the life force from everyone, imprisoning it in canvas and paint.” She picked up something from the crate she was using as her table, lifting it high above her, and particles of light were slit along the razor edge.

“Whoa, there,” Mal said, scrambling to his feet. “That’s sharp.” He reached round her, his arm encircling her growing belly, and put his other hand on her raised one. “And I don’t think you wanna do this.”

She didn’t fight him, but there was an obstinacy in her that made her solid. “I do.”

“River, can I show you something?”

She was startled. “Show … me?”

“Yeah. Just something I carry with me. Only you need to put that knife down ‘fore you hurt yourself. Or me.”

She looked over her shoulde