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The usual sounds of the prison at night echoed dimly through the dark, damp passages. Somewhere someone was banging against their cell bars and shouting; most likely a new arrival. A guard yelled back, and for a time there was silence. Then elsewhere another prisoner started singing in a broken, off-key drawl. It was one of the bawdiest tavern songs known to Utunma, and soon a few other voices joined in the chorus. This carried on for some time, until the singing rose in volume at a particularly saucy part. The guard's voice cut across the tune with a slamming door and a "Shut up already!"

Sitting with her knees folded to her chest on her cot, Vinie took no part in the nightly bedtime ritual of the prison. Provoking the guards was often fun, but tonight there were other things on her mind.

This time last night had been the first time Vinie had seen her father in over ten years. She recalled every detail of him that she could remember. The stoop to his shoulders, the white of his hair and beard, the deep wrinkles and worry lines, all of these were new aspects of Bakko in his daughter's eyes.

"Oh Dad...please hurry."

Her little cell felt more oppressive and stifling now than it ever had. The urge to claw her way out through the very stones and breathe the good clean night air outside made her bones tingle. Unable to sit still any longer, Vinie jumped up off her cot and began to pace. Her poor sandals were nearly done for, and pacing would not help their plight. Still, Vinie tracked ever tightening circles around the room. Every so often she would glance at her fractured map.

"Broken. The world is broken," Vinie observed to herself.

Her mind was buzzing like a hive of bees; never a healthy thing when shut up in tiny spaces. Some deep instinct told Vinie that it was alright now though; she need not hold back and plan for forever in this room anymore. Her father would come for her, she was sure of it.

"And if he doesn't? Then you'll really be in trouble now, won't you?"

"He'll come."

But what if Bakko did not come, or whatever he was planning did not work? The thought overwhelmed and terrified Vinie. With such hope swelling up inside of her, how would she ever survive if all that hope was for nothing? Lesser things had driven people mad.

"If I do go mad, I suppose it will make the rest of my life pass more quickly. I'll be perfectly happy; it will be the guards who will have to deal with me forevermore."

It was a dark thought, but it made Vinie smirk to herself all the same. Her singing was awful, and if she went mad it would make her joining in on the evening chorus far, far worse for everyone involved. That seemed like an appropriate revenge. If she had to stay trapped in here with them, then they would have to stay trapped in here with her too.

These pleasant thoughts kept Vinie amused for a few minutes more. Then little by little she began to sober back to reality. Once again, her map caught her eye and she slowed in her pacing. The line she had carved separating southern Goran from Amenthere stood out particularly in the dim light of her cell. Remembering her daydream of Zaneo, Vinie smiled and reached out to brush the deep groove with her fingertips.

"What a world it could have been, Zaneo."

"Vinie."

It was barely even a whisper, more like a breath of memory. It filled her mind and sent goosebumps racing up her arms and neck. There was no mistaking Zaneo's voice though, not even after ten long years parted.

"Zaneo?!"

Vinie whirled around, searching the darkness. All she saw was shadow, shadow...and then a figure silhouetted against the torchlight at the cell door.

"Vinie?"

"Dad!"

Vinie threw herself at the door, clutching at her father through the bars. Bakko smelled like sea salt and sweat, and it was the most beautiful perfume to Vinie. Finally the tears she had been holding in welled up and spilled freely down her cheeks.

"I knew you'd come. I knew it."

Vinie sobbed like a child in her father's arms, trying to pull him closer, even through the bars. Bakko clung to his only daughter as tightly as the day they had been ripped apart in the crowd.

"Oh, my baby girl...my babe...my little pearl."

Bakko was crying too, his bony shoulders shaking beneath his rough cloth jacket. He was so skinny, so frail feeling in Vinie's embrace. Had he always been this small?

Finally Bakko took hold of Vinie's wrists and gently pried her loose. His watery brown eyes were still brimming with tears, but he managed a feeble smile.

"There isn't much time. We're getting you out of here right now. Gideo, get down here and bring your friend with you."

There came a grunting from the stairwell, and a soft thud. Gideo appeared, lugging something large and covered in a woolen shroud down the stairs. It looked enormously heavy, and Gideo let out another soft groan as his burden clunked down the last step.

"Shhhh, keep it down!" Bakko hissed. "We paid off one guard, not all of them." With another squeeze of Vinie's hand, Bakko pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. He stooped to the new lock he had installed the night before and began fitting a large brass key to the hole.

"The rest might as well be paid off." Gideo gave another grunt as he dragged the wrapped bundle toward Vinie's cell. He paused to brush a mass of sweaty dark curls out of his eyes and smile. "Ready to come back to the world, Vinie?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Vinie returned the smile through her tears of joy. If this was a dream then she would sooner die than waken.

"Good, because the world is definitely going to be coming for us once we get you out of here."

As Bakko twisted and pulled at the lock, Gideo untied the cord holding the shroud in place. It fell away to reveal a sight so strange that Vinie almost laughed. It was a ship's figurehead, painted to look as close to herself as wood possibly could look. The black locks of hair still glistening with damp paint in the torchlight. Then Vinie saw the figurehead's upraised hand, or more specifically upraised finger, and really did laugh.

"Business must be terrible if you had time to do that!"

"You like her?" Gideo grinned rakishly. "I think she gets the point across fairly well, yas?"

Finally the lock snapped open with a ripe click. Neither Vinie nor Bakko could get the door open quickly enough. Then she was cradled in her father's arms. The two of them nearly crushed the life out of each other's lungs, and squeezed even more tightly still. Vinie buried her face in Bakko's shoulder, and at long last found safety again.

"Help me with this, will you?" Gideo was struggling once again to move the Vinie figurehead.

It took all three of them to put the thing on its side and lift it up onto Vinie's cot. The carven statue was in no way similar to Vinie's lithe form, but it was a body to fill the bed. Working quickly, they arranged the thin scrap of blanket to cover everything but the figurehead's head and shoulders. Gideo took extra care to turn the face toward the wall of the cell.

"There. She's no great beauty, but she'll hopefully make it past morning head count."

Gideo nodded with satisfaction, stepping back to take in the finished display of his work. With the blanket drawn up, all that was visible was a head of oddly smooth black hair. The form was far too chunky, but it would have to do.

"What now?" Vinie asked. She was trembling with nervous excitement. "You said you paid off a guard?"

"Yes, and Sahar has taken care of the others. Hurry now!"

Taking hold of Vinie's hand, Bakko followed Gideo as the tall SkinPainter led the way to the stairwell. One of the other prisoners, a greasy fellow arrested for tax evasion, eyed them as they passed. Vinie had heard his voice before, but never seen his face. The prisoner gave Vinie a conspirator's wink and a yellow-toothed grin before rolling over on his cot and starting to snore obnoxiously.

As they ran up the torchlit stairs, Vinie could hear the distant sound of music. It was a familiar melody, with deep drums and a high, reedy flute playing in concert. Vinie hadn't heard that kind of music since her wedding day.

"Dad, is that...?"

"No time to explain now, but we'll tell you everything once we get some place safe." Gideo pushed open the unguarded door, and then they were outside.

They were in an alley, with rain barrels and garbage piles lining the prison wall. A dock rat scurried by their feet, and Bakko flinched. Then he released Vinie's hand to dig behind one of the barrels. The music was much louder and clearer now, as well as the appreciative cheers of a crowd.

"Here, put this on."

Bakko pulled out a rolled-up cloak from behind the rain barrel and gave it to Vinie. The fabric was worn but clean, and scratched unfamiliarly against Vinie's skin. Gideo meanwhile shut the side door through which they'd come, glancing around inside to make sure they hadn't been seen or followed.

"Now, walk slowly and keep close to me. If someone sees us, you run. Don't wait for me, don't look back. Just run."

Vinie bit her lip and frowned, glancing down at her father's twisted leg. There was a hard, determined light in Bakko's eyes that said he would not be argued with.

"We won't be seen," Gideo interrupted. "Sahar is all warmed up by now and no one with eyes will be looking anywhere else. Come on, follow me."

Gideo fell into a casual but purposeful stride with Vinie and Bakko keeping close behind him. He led them from the alley toward the street in front of the prison. They were near the heart of Utunma, and the roads here were tight. It was near impossible not to pass close by other people, but as Gideo had said, all eyes were busy elsewhere.

A large crowd had gathered across the street from the prison, nearly choking off the path. The front doors of the prison were open and a group of Utunman guards were standing atop the step, craning their necks for a clear view. Their red cloaks and bronze chest plates marked them out easily, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Vinie. None of them so much as glanced at their little group as they edged through the crowd.

Through a gap Vinie caught sight of the focus of everyone's attention. A piper and a drummer were seated on the sidewalk, their tune that of the traditional CoinDancing repertoire. A lone dancer shimmied and twisted in the center of the clearing, the golden coins on their skirt and in their hair clinking together as they moved. Vinie was floored to recognize Sahar. Sahar never, ever performed anywhere but at formal events, and her presence was always a lauded and highly anticipated treat. CoinDancing was an ancient, almost sacred art. To perform in the streets like a common entertainer was completely unheard of.

It seemed everyone else was aware of the rarity of what they were seeing too, and the crowd continued to swell with each passing moment. When Sahar began to dance from her core, the toned muscles of her hips and stomach making the coins on her belt chime, a cheer went up even from the prison guards.

Gideo and Bakko led Vinie away from there without anyone so much as glancing at them. Once they were clear of the press of people, Vinie really began to feel the space. She had not had this much room to move in a decade, and it made her feel incredibly small. It was almost overwhelming, and she clung to her father's arm like a terrified child. Bakko laid his hand over top of hers and kept it there, squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

Then they turned a corner, and there was the sea. It looked just as it had ten years ago. The docks, the little fishing boats and bigger merchant vessels, they were all there. The moon hung low and full, its silver light laying a path across the waves to the horizon. Everything was still here.

Except Zaneo. What had become of his body after that terrible day? Had he been properly buried at sea, his bones given to the ocean that was so much a part of him in life? Did her love lie somewhere out there, peaceful in the silence of the sea floor?

Suddenly Vinie was crying again, and this time she could not stop. Bakko's grip on her hand tightened, and Gideo slid a supporting arm around her shoulders.

"We're almost there now Vinie, it's alright."

With her father and Gideo on either side, the two men guided Vinie off the street and into a familiar building that smelled of strawberry candles. Gideo closed the door behind them and turned the wooden shades, casting the room into darkness. Soon he had a dozen of his little pink candles lit, and their flames hung like fireflies in the dark. With a candle in hand, Gideo led Vinie and Bakko upstairs to the living quarters above his SkinPainting shop.

It wasn't until Vinie was settled on a whicker double-seat with a cup of strong coffee in her hand that she was able to start calming down. Bakko sat next to her, an arm protectively around her, holding on as though he never intended to let her go again. Gideo poured drinks for himself and Bakko before taking a seat on an overstuffed yellow bag filled with sand that molded to fit him. Together they sat surrounded by the light of strawberry candles and the clutter of everyday life, silently drinking coffee above Gideo's shop.

Vinie found herself studying Bakko and Gideo closely. After so many years apart they were both intensely familiar and subtly different. Bakko seemed to have aged twenty years in ten. His gnarled hands, once so nimble and clever, painfully clung to Vinie's. She could easily feel the bones of his shoulder as she leaned into him. His clothes were poor and patched too.

Gideo for the most part seemed much the same. The softness of youth was entirely gone from his face though, squaring his jaw and thickening his nose. There was a small scar above his right eyebrow that Vinie didn't remember. Gideo no longer lounged with the easy comfort of a boy, but sat with his elbows propped on his thighs with his coffee mug in hand. When he met Vinie's gaze though, the old twinkle was still in his soft brown eyes.

"Do you want to wash up?" he asked, setting aside his drink. "We went out and bought some things for you earlier. They should fit, I think."

"Yas, thanks."

Vinie gave Bakko's hand one more squeeze before rising and following Gideo to the small wash room. Yet another strawberry candle flickered next to the wash basin, and a wooden tub sat at the ready, already filled with water.

Gideo stopped at the door. "Sorry, the water is probably cold by now. There are fresh clothes there." He pointed at a little wrapped bundle on a stool.

Vinie fingered the brown paper and twine around the clothes. It must have taken all day to haul this much water upstairs for the tub. Nobody had shown her such kindness since the day she had been arrested. Words stuck in her throat, all sounding meek and useless.

"Vinie, I..." Gideo paused. The candlelight flickered, revealing dark stubble on his chin and cheeks. "I can't even imagine what it was like in there. Whatever you need, anything, you just let us know, yas?"

"I don't know what I need, Gideo."

"Well, for a start you need some food. You got skinny, PearlDiver." A hint of a grin quirked the corner of Gideo's mouth. "With you gone I had to learn to cook for myself. Almost poisoned myself a few times, but now it's my turn to make dinner for you."

Gideo was just turning to go when Vinie called after him.

"Gideo?"

"Yas?"

"You sure your cooking is safe?"

Now a real smile warmed Gideo's face, just like they used to in the old days of their bantering back and forth with Zaneo and Sahar.

"Safe enough for this SkinPainter to live off of. Now take your bath, and take your time. We'll be just outside."

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The water in the tub was tepid at best, but it felt like a dream come true to step into. Slowly Vinie used a soapstone to scrub away the dirt of the prison, layer by layer. She used up the entire bar of flowery smelling soap next to the tub. The water slowly turned darker and darker around her, as little by little Vinie rediscovered herself.

Gideo was right; she had gotten skinny. Hardly a spare ounce of either fat or muscle could be found anywhere on her entire body. She was practically skin and bones, and it was not a comfortable feeling. Her hair took forever to clean, and even longer to comb the tangling snarls out of. In the end, there were several knots that Vinie had to abandon all together. Perhaps she ought to just cut it all off and save herself the grief.

When Vinie finally stepped out of the bath and saw herself in the little pane of mirrored glass by the wash basin, she was almost frightened. The long years of darkness and hunger had changed her enormously. There was almost nothing familiar in her own reflection.

"Is that you, Vinie?" she asked herself.

Her eyes were unnaturally large and bright, staring at her with a feverish light in the candlelight. The bones of her face stood out prominently, leaving nothing to hide anywhere. Her chin was so razor sharp it could have been a beak. All the flesh and fat of childhood were gone, stripped away. A thin, unnervingly alert, almost elfin face stared back at Vinie. Even her nose and ears seemed more pointed than she remembered. Everything round and smooth about her had been replaced by sharp edges. Would Zaneo have even wanted to cuddle up to her now if he were alive to see her?

The black pearl shone darkly up at her from her sad little pile of discarded rags. It would be the one thing that she would keep of herself from all those years in prison. Bending down, Vinie retrieved the pearl and tied it on her brow, the leather cord tugging at her wet hair.

The clothes that Gideo and Bakko had bought her were slightly too large. No doubt they hadn't expected her to have lost as much weight as she had. Still, they were clean and soft. Vinie stepped into the loose pants and cinched them in at the waist with a colorful belt made of woven beads. The sleeveless white shirt hung like a tent on her shrunken shoulders and chest, and Vinie was grateful to find a leather vest in the pile to cover the shirt with. The sandals, new and thick-soled, were the best gift of all. Fastening them on, Vinie stood and walked away from her tattered prison clothes and worn sandals, leaving them on the floor of the wash room where they lay.

When she came back out into the main room she found not only Bakko and Gideo waiting for her, but also Sahar. Sahar still wore her CoinDancing outfit, as well as a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. When she saw Vinie her entire face filled with a mixture of wonder and shock. In an instant Sahar was on her feet and flying to wrap Vinie in a hug.

"Vinie, you brave, brave girl. You amazing, strong, wonderful woman," Sahar whispered in her ear.

"Sahar." Vinie was choking up again, and could only hug her best friend as tightly as she could in return.

Finally she stepped back to get a good look at the woman who had been like a sister to her growing up. Sahar had a few extra curves now, a softness to her belly that hinted at the carrying and bearing of children. The CoinDancing outfit looked a bit tight on her, but Sahar wore it as proudly as she ever had.

"You dance better than ever," Vinie managed to get out, still caught somewhere between chuckling and crying. She had to dash away tears with the back of one hand.

Suddenly Sahar looked a little shy. "You think so? I haven't done it in years."

"The prison guards certainly thought so."

Bakko spoke up from the double-seat where Vinie had left him. Gideo had lit a few oil lamps now, and the room had a close, comfortable glow to it. The scent of cooking fish wafted in from another room. Abruptly, Vinie realized just how hungry she actually was. It was powerful enough to almost make her sick.

Bakko held out his hand for Vinie, and Vinie went to her father. She sat down slowly, keenly aware of the throw rug beneath her feet, the smell of cooking food in the air, the touch of new clothes on her skin. This couldn't be a dream; everything was too real, and here and now.

"How was your bath?" Bakko asked, hugging Vinie to his side once again. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of soap. "Otch, you smell like an apothecary."

"Blame that on Gideo and his scented soap." Vinie nuzzled in close to Bakko. "I'm afraid I may have to cut my hair though, there's just no help for all the knots in it."

"Oh yes there is!" Sahar exclaimed. "Here, let me see what I can do."

Sahar came over and shooed Vinie down onto the rug. She replaced Vinie on the double-seat next to Bakko and settled Vinie between her knees before going to work on the tangles. As a child, Vinie remembered being jealous of how good Sahar was at braiding her hair. Now she relaxed back against her friend's legs and let her go to work.

"Dad?" Vinie asked.

"Yes?" Bakko leaned forward and Vinie heard a ripe pop from his spine.

"How did you do all of this? The guards, the cell door; are you a LockSmith now?"

Bakko smiled, his eyes full of a love that would never do anything less than anything for his only child.

"It took some planning, some time and some money. You remember the dog that came to see you, yas?"

Surprised, Vinie nodded. "That was you?"

"That was Sahar. She trained the dog to carry things and to drop them off."

"He's a good dog, and smart too," Sahar commented, bracing Vinie's head as she teased at a particularly bad snarl.

"When you were taken, I..." Bakko swallowed, looking down at his leg. "...I couldn't keep up the PearlDiving trade anymore. I was well on my way to becoming a beggar, and I was so angry at the world. I wouldn't even let these two..." he nodded at Sahar and the kitchen where Gideo was, "...help me. I lost everything and was in bad shape for a long time. Then Sahar lost her patience with this foolish old man. She found me in an alley and dragged me back to live with her and her family."

"When he says dragged, he means literally," Sahar chuckled. "Your father is one of the most stubborn old coots to ever lurk behind the docks of Utunma."

"Dad, why wouldn't you let them help?" Vinie looked upon her wizened, aged father with new eyes. The years of poverty were clearly written in Bakko's face.

"Because I'm a stubborn old coot, like she says. Sahar made me find a new way to live. Otch, you would have laughed Vinie, to see me apprenticed to a LockSmith and learning a trade at near on fifty years old! Anyways, the more I learned the more I got the idea to use what I knew to rescue you. I sought out Gideo, and between the three of us we came up with a plan. Gideo paid off the door guard and painted that figurehead, I managed to get myself contracted to replace the old locks in the prison cells, and Sahar worked up the guts to break out that old dancing costume of hers!"

"You should have seen my husband's face when I brought it out, never mind the faces of my two boys." Sahar seemed to have finished combing, and was now at work braiding Vinie's long black hair. "My husband made me promise not to take it off until after I got home tonight."

Vinie chortled. "I'm having a hard time imagining you married, Sahar, or you as a LockSmith, Dad, or Gideo as a decent cook. Everything seems to have changed so much."

"Not everything." Sahar laid a warm hand on Vinie's shoulder. Her smile suddenly turned sad. "There is still a Zaneo living in Utunma at least. We named our oldest after him, and he wants to be a shaman when he grows up."

It seemed that Vinie was going to be doing a lot of choking up and crying today. With a lump in her throat, she reached up and took Sahar's hand, squeezing it. The three of them sat together, drinking in each other's company like parched desert wanderers.

Gideo appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, ducking through the strings of beads that curtained it off. He carried a steaming plate of fish and a bowl of what looked like shelled mollusks.

"Here we are, dinner." Gideo set down the wooden plates on a low table in the middle of the room. "I promise that I sampled everything first, and here I still stand." He bowed with a flourish. "Please, enjoy."

"I still can't believe that you can cook now, Gideo." Vinie scooted closer, her stomach clenching with hunger. Tentatively, she reached out for a fish.

"Believe it, PearlDiver," Gideo said with a wink.

For the first time that evening, a low ripple of laughter filled the room. One by one everyone took the plunge and sampled Gideo's cooking. Sahar declared it acceptable, and Bakko dug in hungrily like a man still living on the streets. Vinie only managed a single fish and mollusk. Bakko reassured her that, like many other things, her appetite would return with time. Instead, Vinie was content to sit, leaning against her father and Sahar's legs and listen to Gideo regale them with the story of how he had bartered the unpainted figurehead from a junked ship. It was an evening of warmth, company, and candlelight. When at last Vinie fell asleep against Bakko's knee, she drifted off into the best rest she had had in ten long years.

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