OoOoO

It had been nearly three days since The Fire, and still the wind blew heavy with ash and smoke. The sun hung redder than coral in the hazy southern sky, its light tainted across the entire Bay of Torbos. Without sunlight, the normally clear, jewel-like facets of the shallow sea could not be seen. Instead, the water lapped grey and sullen against the prow of Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu's dhow. Vinie considered for the second time already that morning how easy things might be now if she had simply allowed herself to drown beneath those waves. She had chosen to live, on the night of The Fire, and to that decision she held true. There hardly seemed much to live for anymore though.

Vinie, Kiiss, and Xolani waited at the railing, watching as a pair of small canoes paddled toward them from the direction of the shore. There was so much smoke in the air, they could not see whatever remained of Moaan, even from less than a league out in the bay.

"Well? How does the city look? Is anything salvageable?" Xolani called down as soon as the canoes were within earshot.

"No, Lord Xolani! There's nothing left, not even The Serpent's Tunnel! The jungle is barren embers as far as the eye can see."

Vinie turned away from the scouts' news in resignation. Moaan was gone. Worse than that, she had no way of knowing the fate of her father, Bakko, or her slain friend Sahar's two young boys. They had been left in what Vinie thought was the relative safety of Utunma, so far away on the southernmost tip of Goran. This had been no ordinary brush-fire, however. If Moaan – with its stone walls and soaring causeways – had been reduced to nothing by the unleashed power of the Obads, what chance would a little fishing village like Utunma have stood?

"Alright," Xolani was saying. "Return to your vessels and see what provisions your families have. Everyone will need to ration their supplies carefully, especially the food and fresh water."

"Yas lord."

Limping over to the far railing on blistered legs – the aftermath of rescuing Gideo from a death sentence in Amenthere – Vinie looked out sea and bit her lip. A makeshift city of boats, rafts, and bits and pieces of rubble floated on the tide. The people of Undor; only days before they had been the proud, rebellious beginnings of a country. Now they huddled together, over ninety-thousand refugees, with no land, no safe harbour, and no hope.

A tall silhouette moved between Vinie and the rusty, meager sun overhead, and her first instinct was to lean into Gideo's side. Some unconscious instinct stopped her short. Gideo was not the same since Amenthere. In fact, thinking back, Vinie realized that she had not truly seen her cheerful, reassuring husband since they parted in Danitesk. Although he may have looked the same – broad, handsome face, curly black hair, long limbs decorated with fanciful tattoos – the spark that had once made Gideo an endless wellspring of hope and optimism seemed to have been finally snuffed out. He stood staring out across the floating sanctuary-city, stiff and expressionless as a statue.

Vinie looked up at Gideo...opened her mouth...then closed it. Instead, she looked back to the sea. What was there to say? She had no words of reassurance that everything would or even could be alright again. All they could do was stand silently side-by-side at the railing, joined by shared pain and the little white marriage-knot tattoos inked into their palms.

"Lady Oesu, there wasn't any time to stock extra firewood onboard. If we run out, we won't be able to cook any of the fish that we might catch. Also, the nights adrift will get cold at this time of year."

One of the crew of the dhow was speaking to Lady Oesu on the quarterdeck, just above where Vinie and Gideo stood. The Lady of Undor was looking significantly less regal these days. Gone were her elaborate kente dresses and golden jewelry; Oesu wore just a simple smock, belted with leather, and a plain cloth hair-wrap. She still spoke with all the same authority as if currently she sat behind her desk in Moaan's State Hall.

"Stop lighting any fires for any purpose except emergencies. Send a canoe to tell all the other boats to do the same. With the jungle gone, we don't know when we'll be able to restock."

"Actually, I may be able to help."

Although Ijireen did not appear to be anything unusual at first glance, the teenage girl was actually the one victory the people of Undor could claim since The Lair in Amenthere. Ijireen was a Red Ovate, and now the third member of Goran's Magicol to have openly turned traitor against Mahir. Whatever had become of the two Blue Obads – Tomur and Margalee – no one knew, but by choosing to throw her lot in with Vinie and Gideo, Ijireen had irrevocably placed herself on what now appeared to be the losing side of this war.

For having come straight from life in a castle to barest survival, the girl appeared to be handling herself remarkably well. Not once had Vinie seen her crying like little Obi, or wringing her hands as Bakko would have done were he here. Ijireen jumped straight into the conversation between Oesu and the crewman without hesitation...or permission, for that matter.

"How so?" asked Oesu.

"An Obad's flame doesn't need fuel to burn. I can conjure fires for anyone who needs them."

"Is that so...?" The crewman looked to Oesu for confirmation. Considering that Red Obads were responsible for the smoldering ruin of the coastline off which they now floated, Vinie honestly couldn't blame the man for being cautious.

Oesu had no such reservations. "Ijireen, you precious girl! I'll have a man row you from boat to boat, so that each household might have a fire for tonight. The less we can stand to use what firewood we have, the longer we can make it last."

"How long will these magic fires of yours burn?" asked the crewman, apparently still needing some reassurance.

"Only-" Ijireen paused to cough on a sudden waft of smoke drifting across the bay. "Only as long as I put the energy into sustaining them. I've never tried keeping more than five flames burning at once, but if they're small, I should be able to do more."

"We have faith in you," said Oesu, patting the Ovate's arm. "Come, let's get started before the sun starts to set. Just tell us what you need."

A hand landing on her shoulder startled Vinie. For a brief moment she hoped it might be Gideo trying to get her attention. Turning, Vinie swallowed sharp disappointment to find Ekene StarGazer waiting instead.

"Are you any good with a fishing lure?" The assassin-turned-rebel held out a bamboo pole strung with line. "The children will go hungry on just rationed rice and yams. People have already started casting nets off other boats; we'd best try to catch something before these waters are fished bare."

Vinie winced to realize just how right Ekene was. So many people with limited supplies would quickly exhaust the Bay of Torbos's schools of mackerel. What they would do from there...

There were too many problems to confront all at once. Vinie gingerly accepted the rod from Ekene, her swollen, bandaged fingers making themselves known. "How are the others holding up?" she asked as the two of them headed for stern.

"They're alive, for the most part."

Vinie didn't blame Ekene for being waspish. The Stargazers had played a vital role in rescuing Gideo from The Lair, but it had come at a high price. They had lost all but sixteen of their guild, including Ekene and Kiiss's other in-laws. Among the fallen had been Anuli StarGazer, who left behind a young, now-orphaned daughter. Besides that, the Stargazers were now openly wanted fugitives across Goran. Ijireen wasn't the only one whose involvement in the rebellion had cost them their home.

"That wasn't what I meant."

Ekene shot Vinie a sharp look as they prepared to cast their lines. Then her fearsome face softened, but only slightly. Reaching over, she helped Vinie through her fumbled attempted to untangle the lure.

"Okoreo and Dalar are fine. Dalar has had her hands full trying to care for not just her boy, Madeo, but little Obi now as well. Okoreo is doing what he can to help her out though."

"And your children?"

That finally succeeded in pulling a tiny flicker of a smile from Ekene. "Chidea and Ngozi are old enough to be able to handle themselves. It's been a lot for anyone to take in though. I just thank the winds and tides for Kiiss. Having their grandmother around again has made everything just a bit easier for the children to bear. She has a way of making them feel like everything is under control, even though you and I both know better."

Despite herself, Vinie flashed a quick smile back at Ekene. It took a couple awkward attempts, but she managed to get her line cast. The hook hit the sea with a small, watery plop.

"Yas, Kiiss certainly does have that sort of effect on people. She's quite one-of-a-kind."

"Completely overwhelming when you first meet her, I know. Believe me, when Nalo first introduced me to his mother, I thought I'd never met a more obnoxious woman!"

The memory of their own first encounter with Kiiss ArtSeller came rushing back to Vinie. She, Gideo, and Bakko had been taking shelter with Nadathan N'Shar and Sula G'Hesh aboard their boat at anchor in The Serpent's Tunnel. They had thought themselves very well hidden after a rather public stunt involving throwing rocks at guards and a resultant brawl. Then Kiiss came barging onto the deck in a flirtatious flurry of jewelry and silk, launching Vinie and Gideo headfirst into the makings of a future General and Lieutenant of Undor.

Undor was no more now, Vinie was forced to remind herself. It had all been for naught. Moaan, the southern capital was gone, consumed by the Obads' flames. The jungle – the ancestral home of their people, second only to the sea – stretched in a barren ruin along the southern coastline. If Moaan, with all its stone causeways and high walls, had been so thoroughly destroyed, Vinie couldn't imagine what the fate of smaller fishing villages like Danitesk and Utunma had been. Nor could she imagine what had become of Bakko and the boys. With her hands and arms still covered in raw burns, it wasn't like Vinie was in any shape to go sailing to Utunma herself. She could only wait, hope, and fish.

OoOoO

As the autumnal southern sun began to set, it cast the bay in a bright red hue through the smoke. Vinie and Ekene had managed to catch three mackerel between them; not enough to fill everyone's bellies, but enough to make a meager dinner of half a bowl of rice and pickled yams feel like more than it was.

They all ate on the deck of the dhow; crew, assassins, rebels and politicians alike. Although the general mood was very much quiet and mournful, there was a certain comfort in companionship. Vinie couldn't help but notice that Gideo ate little, and spoke even less. He sat silently between her and Xolani, trying with only middling success to navigate a spoon and bowl with his bandaged hands. Okoreo offered to lend a hand, but to Vinie's surprise, Gideo's response was a dark glare and curt "No."

Not knowing how else to help when Gideo clearly didn't want any, all Vinie could do was exchange a concerned look with Kiiss. The elder ArtSeller leaned back against the dhow's mast, Obi under one arm and Madeo leaning against the other, their empty dinner bowls balanced on her ample lap. Ekene was right; the children did gravitate to their grandmother, and it gave Vinie a brief glimmer of satisfaction to see Kiiss in such a light.

Gideo was not the only one brooding that evening. Ijireen sat alone on the stairs to the quarterdeck, having refused any dinner at all. Her lips were pressed together in a thin, bloodless line, and a sheen of sweat plastered strands of hair to her coppery brow. The Red Ovate's eyes smoldered with eerie ruby light as she stared over the railing at the haphazard fleet of boats and rafts. The distant glow of dozens of small fires could be seen; in the end Ijireen had managed to produce and sustain nearly thirty of the little flames.

It appeared that Vinie was not the only one aware of Ijireen's struggles. Glancing at one another, Chidea and Ngozi climbed to their feet and turned to Oesu.

"Lady Oesu, can we try offering Ijireen her supper one more time?"

"Be careful you two," interrupted Ekene. "She already refused once. I don't want you angering that girl, especially when she's using her magic."

Oesu arched her meticulously groomed eyebrows at Ekene. "She is a Child of Fire, not a rabid dog." To Chidea and Ngozi she said "Yas, I think that would be a good idea. Tell her that everyone has surely had time to cook their dinners by now. Autumn is still young; the sea air is not so cold yet that the people will need fires all night."

"We will find somewhere to land and restock on wood and supplies long before the winter," added Xolani. "This is not a permanent solution."

Chidea and Ngozi still looked to their mother for permission. When Ekene nodded, Chidea scooped up the last bowl of rice, yams, and fish where it sat warming around one of Ijireen's woodless flames. The two teenagers approached cautiously, neither of them getting within arm's reach despite Oesu's reassurances. They spoke softly, holding out the bowl of food. At first Ijireen shook her head, her eyes still glowing with inner fire. Chidea tried again though, and this time Ijireen appeared to give in to the temptation of a warm meal. The twin points of amber light winked out, and tentatively she reached for the bowl. Rather than leave though, Chidea and Ngozi perched themselves on the railing beside Ijireen. The three of them fell to talking – more Chidea and Ngozi talking while Ijireen ate – and a satisfied smirk painted Oesu's face as she watched.

"You said we would find somewhere to land and resupply, Lord Xolani." Dalar StarGazer fastened the Lord of Undor with a penetrating stare. "Where? There's no life left in the jungle for miles around, your scouts said as much earlier today."

Vinie tried once more to make her case. "We could try to sail for Utunma. That far south, they may have escaped the flames."

"If that were true, the birds would have fled south already." Okoreo indicated a flock of blue macaws circling forlornly along the coastline. "You saw The Fire, BlackPearl. Mahir and the Obads would not have stopped until there was nothing left to burn."

"We at least need to know if there were any survivors," protested Vinie.

"I do not disagree with that," interrupted Xolani. "But we need to tend to our own problems before going in search of others. We cannot float here in The Bay of Torbos indefinitely. I was thinking we might try landing at the southernmost edge of The Teeth. The Fire may not have reached up into the foothills there."

Ekene frowned. "The mountains rise sharp and fast from the sea. There will be little space to camp, and even less to be found in the way of trees or food."

"Then where? The closest city beyond the jungle is Syrion...nearly a week around the peninsula from here."

Oesu was already shaking her head before Okoreo even finished speaking. "No, absolutely not. The Syrinese are loyal to the capital, especially with the High Obad being one of their own. And, if you care to remember, before all this disaster we had credible evidence of a royal shipyard sitting at the tip of Auli's Inlet. We'd have warships on us before we ever got anywhere near Syrion."

"There is another possibility." Kiiss spoke uncharacteristically softly, no doubt in an effort not to disturb the children half-dozing against her. "If we're desperate enough to have the nerve for it."

Vinie gazed out at the rapidly darkening, smoke-laden Bay of Torbos and the ragtag collection of vessels floating across it. "I think we'll have all the nerve we need. What is it, Kiiss?"

"The east. I know, I know! It would take weeks to sail this raft of flotsam all the way around the Hanara Desert to Derbesh. And, if we manage to get there, who knows how the clans will react to a hundred-thousand Undorians showing up homeless on their doorstep. There's been no word from Reyson and the others sent to the north though, so I think we had better just go ahead and assume that our only potential allies are in the east right now. At the very least, Derbesh is a city stocked with food, clean water, medicine, and most importantly, questionable loyalty to the crown. Unless you think we'd have better luck with the Syrinese, or foraging amongst the ashes of Moaan, I say we set course for

Derbesh. You just let me do the talking when we get there, yas? I have contacts in The Weeping Keep who owe me a favour anyways."

Oesu lifted her chin proudly, despite the sorrow tightening her noble face. "Is this what we have been reduced to then, Lady ArtSeller? To go begging for charity from the clansfolk? I always thought our people were more resourceful than that."

"Leaning on your friends in hard times is not a weakness," replied Kiiss tartly. "Pride on the other hand-"

"Sails to the west!"

A shout from Ngozi stole everyone's attention from the growing debate. The boy's eyes were sharp, and it took Vinie a minute to pick out the distant shape of triangular white sails against the hazy sunset. Sure enough, a large ship was approaching; three-masted and clearly Amentherian in design.

"No..." Okoreo breathed. "A capital warship."

"Coming to finish us off once and for all," concluded Gideo with morbid calm.

Something gave Vinie pause though. "Wait, where's a spyglass?" One of the dhow's crew produced one, and she scrambled up onto the railing despite her stiff, throbbing legs. Ignoring the cries of fear and panic spreading throughout the refugee fleet behind her, Vinie squinted down the tube at the approaching ship.

"It will target us, the largest ship, first," Xolani was saying. "I say we lead them out to sea and make our stand there. We might buy the people a little time to make it to shore before we are sunk."

"Time for what? To starve amongst the ruins, or to be overrun by soldiers sent overland from Amenthere?" replied Ekene. "Self-sacrifice is only noble if it serves a purpose."

Ijireen came to stand between Xolani and Oesu. "We're not finished just yet. A ship made of wood floats just fine, but will burn even better." Her young face twisted into a crocodile's hungry grin. "Let's draw them out to sea."

"Wait!" Vinie shouted. "They're not alone! I see more boats following behind. And not capital ships...dhows! Catamarans and canoes too!"

"What!?"

Cries of alarm slowly turned to bewilderment and confusion. Everyone on deck came to join Vinie at the railing, watching the makeshift armada approach out of the setting sun.

"It can't be..." murmured Oesu.

Readjusting her gaze through the spyglass, Vinie studied the lead ship; a caravel with faded yellow paint and a figurehead of a hippocampus. Recognition surged through her, and her heart soared.

"It's the StormRider!"

It couldn't be, and yet it was. Returned from Blue Stone, the StormRider sailed at the front of a fleet of Undorian vessels, leading the people of Danitesk and Utunma in search of their fellow survivors. Boats of every size and shape streamed into The Bay of Torbos behind the caravel, from merchant mtepes all the way down to two-person canoes. It was the tradition of the Undorian people that every household should not be complete without a boat to call their own. Now, they all rejoiced aloud and blessed their ancestors' foresight. Going by the size of the approaching fleet, it appeared nearly every resident of the two towns had escaped The Fire alive.

Vinie's joy quickly turned to fear though. Her father, Bakko, did not own a boat. The little dhow which Vinie and her once-husband Zaneo had built had been lost during The Uprising. Between the rebellion and then Gideo's capture, there simply had not been time to build their family a new one. How had Bakko and Sahar's boys, young Zaneo and Tani, escaped to the sea? Vinie scanned the small crafts surrounding the StormRider anxiously. There was no sign of Bakko and the boys.

"Where are they?" she whispered.

Lightheaded, throat closing, Vinie looked desperately to Gideo. He too was searching the faces in the approaching boats. Meeting Vinie's panicked stare, he shook his head despondently. Vinie thought she had never seen a man look so defeated in her entire life.

"Ho! Lead ship!"

The hailing call came from the StormRider. Numb with the expectation of grief, Vinie watched as the caraval moved to draw parallel with Xolani and Oesu's dhow. The towering bowsprit and forecastle of the caraval loomed large, overshadowing the dhow's deck as the two ships slid together. The first person Vinie saw once the StormRider's deck was in view was Captain Dagaan.

The next person was Bakko.

"Baba!" Vinie screamed.

"Vinie!"

They were too far apart for a gangplank yet; too far away for embraces and tearful reunions. Those would come later though. For now, all of Vinie's worst fears – fears which had kept her from sleep every moment since The Fire – could finally be laid to rest. There Bakko stood on the deck of the StormRider, leaning on his cane, whole and alive. His clothes were stained black with soot, and there were even more wrinkles around his eyes than Vinie remembered. Her father was alive though, and that was all Vinie needed to know.

Bakko wasn't alone either. Sahar's orphaned sons, Zaneo and Tani, stood on either side of him, Zaneo clutching Bakko's arm and Tani frowning fiercely. Neither of the two boys looked to be hurt either. Tears of relief streaking from her eyes, Vinie leaned as far as possible over the railing toward them.

"Baba, you're alive! I've been so afraid for you! What happened!?"

Bakko came to lean on the railing of the StormRider, likewise reaching for Vinie. "We're alright...we're alright, my pearl. Utunma though..." The old man swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Home is gone. I'm so, so sorry. The fire came sweeping down through the jungle like a tidal wave. There was no stopping it. It just so happened that the StormRider was at anchor in Utunma, dropping off supplies before heading here. If it weren't for Captain Dagaan and his crew..." Bakko trailed off.

It was then that Vinie noticed just how crowded the StormRider really was. The ship rode low in the water, and on the deck, there were gathered dozens upon dozens of people, most of them obviously not sailors.

"Captain Dagaan told anyone who didn't have a boat to come aboard." A hunch-backed old woman spoke up from amidst the crowd. "There was so little time...no time to know where to go or what to do. The StormRider and its crew saved us."

Dagaan stood squirming at the wheel, apparently uncomfortable with such praise. His First Mate – a broad fellow with a kindly if tired face – spoke up for him.

"The Captain wasn't about to just pull anchor and abandon y'all. It was his idea to double back and gather together with any survivors from Danitesk too."

"That'll do, Ebn," said Dagaan gruffly. "I'm afraid there's nothing but ashes left of both Danitesk and Utunma, Lord and Lady of Undor. We came here hoping some of Moaan might have been spared, being a big city and all?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain," answered Oesu. "We've sent scouts to assess the ruins, but it seems the Obads' flames burn hot enough to destroy pots, pans, and palaces alike."

"That's not the news we were hoping for. As you can see, we brought quite a lot of boats, with quite a lot of people. Nobody has much in the way of supplies; most have already eaten the king's share of their food on the trip here."

Xolani and Oesu exchanged a look. The previous joy of seeing the people of Danitesk and Utunma alive and come to join them was now tempered with brutal realism. The Bay of Torbos was now packed to bursting with thousands upon thousands of mouths to feed...and no land from which to replenish their supplies. Without a safe harbour, the sea could only sustain the people of Undor for so long.

None of that mattered to Vinie right now though. She was content to stand and gaze at her father from across the space separating the StormRider and the dhow. Very soon, they would be able to hold each other again. Bakko was alive, Sahar's boys were alive, Gideo was alive, even Kiiss was alive. They were all alive, and they were all together.

No matter what happened next, Vinie made a promise to herself. Never again would she allow her family to be parted. They would stay together to the end, whether it be bitter or sweet.

OoOoO