OoOoO

"You'd think the sun hated this town, for all that it never seems to shine here."

"Maybe it's the other way 'round."

"Oh?"

"It could be that Falerik's the one trying to hide from daylight beneath all this fog!"

After the never-ending sunlight of Moaan in all its southern coastal glory, Vinie wasn't sure if she was happy or aggrieved to be returning to Falerik. Nothing had changed since she had last been there a month ago; steeply pointed roofs bowed inward beneath slate-grey shingles, flickering lanterns cast meager pools of orange lights on the streets, and stray dogs howled in the distance. Passersby clad in haphazard shawls and rattling bone jewelry flicked skittish glances at Vinie, Reyson, Dhalad and Yidu as they jumped down from the back of the wagon; as warm a welcome as one could expect in this superstitious town. To mind one's own business was the law of the land around here. This alone made Falerik the perfect place for the Factionist headquarters.

The wagon driver snapped the whip above his oxen team's backs, leaving the four rebels standing in front of a large wooden building. Light peered out through the slats of the windows at them. Muted chatter could be heard from within, carried aloft on the air with the scent of marinating fish and spices.

"Looks like your father got the new sign finished," Reyson pointed above the door.

Vinie couldn't help but smile when she followed Reyson's outstretched finger. Swaying slightly on its chain despite the lack of wind, a large wooden sign displayed the name 'The Drunken SkinPainter' above a carven skinpainting needle crossed with a fork.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go around before we attract notice."

With the others close behind, Vinie led the way around the corner of The Drunken SkinPainter. An ivy-laden railing hid a set of stone stairs carved into the earth from casual view. Dropping her shawl from over her head prematurely, Vinie raised a hand and knocked on the heavy brown-black door set into the side of the building's belly. There was a shuffle from inside. Then the iron riveted porthole slid open just wide enough for a voice to be heard.

"Aren't you a little out of your way?"; the coded prompt. Vinie was quick to deliver the Factionists' password.

"We seek a new way."

The door ground open with the complaining of wood on stone. A man stood inside the threshold; not a face that Vinie recognized. Their ranks grew so often and by so much that she'd given up trying to personally remember each and every Factionist. Apparently the fellow knew her though. His weathered face split into a broad smile, revealing at least four golden teeth.

"Ah! Welcome back, BlackPearl. Everyone's been looking for your arrival. Things went well in Moaan then, yas?"

"Ahem," Reyson harrumphed before Vinie could say anything. The dour former knight disagreed with the extent to which Vinie often shared information with her followers. 'No respect for chain of command' or so on, as he tended to say. Vinie found herself agreeing with him this time, at least. The outcome of their meeting with Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu would have to be kept close for now, at least until she had time to discuss it with her dad.

"They did," was all that Vinie said. Thankfully the man on duty didn't press for anything more, and shut the door behind them.

The basement of The Drunken SkinPainter was crowded and busy, as per usual. The inn had originally been designed as a safe haven for illegal activity, and it served its purpose well. People came and went down the corridor, dipping past doorways with everything from intercepted mail to pieces of half-refitted armor in hand. So the seafaring attack on the armory vessel from Derbesh had paid off.

To Vinie's surprise, she spotted the bowed figure of her dad standing in the main room with his back to the door. Bakko leaned on his cane, favoring his left leg ever since a pearl diving accident years ago. Fuzzy white hair curled tightly against his scalp, a reminder that neither he nor Vinie were as young as they had been over twelve years ago when this all started. Vinie felt her heart lift with relief to see her dad still well and, if the voices upstairs were any clue, running a successful business.

She couldn't resist the chance to have a little fun with Bakko. Yidu stifled a giggle when Vinie winked at the girl. Creeping up behind Bakko, Vinie leaned forward until her chin was practically past Bakko's stooped shoulder.

"What kind of innkeeper neglects his guests to mingle with criminals, hmm?"

Bakko gave an almighty start, nearly crashing his and Vinie's heads together when he spun around.

"Otch, girl! Bury my bones, but you scared me!"

A swift smack to the shins from Bakko's cane served as payback, followed straight away by a warm yet bony hug. Her dad smelled like frying oil and spice, and Vinie squeezed him tight.

"I missed you too Dad. Now really though, what's going on to bring you down here? The customers upstairs will be getting crabby."

Bakko leaned back against the heavy table scavenged from planks of barn boards in the center of the room. Factionists across the table glanced up from the maps they were looking over to smile at the reunion. Bakko was as much the founder of the cause as Vinie was, and they seemed to regard the gimpy old man as something of a universal granddad figure, especially the younger recruits.

"Actually, I came down to greet the latest arrivals," he said. When Vinie looked at him quizzically, Bakko's grin was brighter than the oil lamps. "A carriage just got in from Amenthere, and I sent some boys out to see to the zebras."

There was only one person in all of southern Goran that Vinie knew who rode around in a zebra-drawn carriage. Her heart leapt straight to her throat. It must have shown on her face, because Bakko laughed.

"What kind of general ignores her best spy, hmm?"

The words came from out of nowhere, warm and tickly beside her ear. Vinie just about jumped straight out of her skin, a hand flying to the hilt of her belawa. Her elbow hit something solid, and a whoosh of air ending in a chortled grunt arose behind her.

"Gideo!"

Vinie practically pounced on Gideo like a starved panther. Stretching up on the tips of her toes barely brought her arms high enough to latch onto his neck, and she buried her face in his wreath of thick black curls. Gideo didn't smell like strawberry candles and skinpaint anymore, she noticed. Now there was a vague scent of perfume lingering on his clothes and in his hair, no doubt a product of time spent in the royal court. The addendum at the end of Sahar's letter returned to her, and Vinie resolved to break the news to Gideo later, gently.

When Gideo finally went to unwind his arms from around her, Vinie didn't miss the tiny flinch which escaped him. Her hands found what felt like padded linen beneath his shirt on the back of one shoulder, and she stiffened.

"Tell me now, what happened?" She demanded. "That's no little scrape you've got there."

Gideo grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck and looking very much like a youth caught in wrongdoing. "I may have turned my back to a loaded crossbow..."

"He's lucky he didn't catch it with his backside, naked as he was at the time! Then again, perhaps that might have been even more enjoyable for me to tend to."

"Hullo Kiiss..." Vinie sighed as their patroness and landlady emerged from the alcove beside the door where she and Gideo had been standing. "Wait...what's that about being shot and naked?!"

Bakko could have fried an egg on Gideo's face. He shot a thoroughly irritated look at Kiiss, still trying to edge away from Vinie's attempts to feel more of the edges of the bandage. The matronly art merchant seemed positively delighted with the stir she'd just caused. She tapped her teeth with a blue-painted nail, winking at Vinie.

"Oh, it's quite the story. You should have been there to see it when Gideo turned up on my doorstep, bare as a bonobo and-"

"Kiiss! Why don't I show you what I've done with the place?" Bakko broke in, hurrying forward to offer Kiiss his hand. "I think you'll be amazed with how well The SkinPainter's cleaned up after all that time empty."

Kiiss raised an eyebrow, but tucked her hand into the crook of Bakko's arm all the same. "If you insist, my dear Bakko. I knew I was leaving the place in good hands, with you at the helm." She giggled, an unsettlingly true-to-life girlish sound from a woman old enough to be Vinie's mum.

'Thank you,' Vinie mouthed to Bakko as the pair made their way toward the stairwell back upstairs at the end of the hall. Bakko made a face in reply, but obligingly let Kiiss steer him up toward the main floor of the inn.

As soon as their resident elders were gone Vinie wasted no time in rounding on Gideo. Hands on her narrow hips, she stared at him with searing intensity.

"Alright then, let's hear it. What happened to you in Amenthere, Gideo?"

Gideo and Kiiss had already given Bakko the full story, but Gideo faithfully retold all of the months he had spent in the capital posing as Kiiss' servant. He spoke only a little of the Stargazers; the underground order of assassins did not take kindly to their secrets being handed around in the open. When it came to life at court though, Gideo spared no detail. Vinie and Reyson listened with rapt attention to Gideo's descriptions of the royal family, the Magicol and the king's growing impatience with the rise in Factionist sentiments. He finished his tale with a recounting of the failed assassination attempt. Vinie heard the inner conflict in Gideo's voice when he told them about his moment of hesitation, a moment which may have given Mahir his life.

"Don't be sorry, Gideo," she told him when he finished. "We aren't in this to become ruthless as Mahir. It was just bad timing that the prince was there, that's all."

"Exactly what I was telling the boy." Bakko and Kiiss had come back downstairs while Gideo was speaking, and now Bakko sat across the table on a stool, cane laid across his lap. "I said we'd rather have him back in one piece than the king in two."

"Would have been nice if my good name in the capital hadn't been compromised though," Kiiss said tartly.

"It's too late to be crying over torn nets," said Bakko. "You're back safe, and you learned more about the king than I ever wondered to know."

Gideo seem looked ill-at-ease, but he held his peace. Folding his arms over his chest, he passed the debriefing on to Vinie. "What about you and Reyson? Did you speak to the regents?"

"We did," confirmed Vinie, and a look from Reyson sent the other lingering Factionists in the corners of the room out to tend to other business. "It's as we hoped, but they won't be swayed to open rebellion just yet."

When Gideo, Bakko and Kiiss heard about Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu's demand for insurance against the crown, their reactions were mixed. Kiiss didn't seem surprised, Bakko looked unsettled and Gideo sucked on his teeth.

"Well, Mahir's most obvious weakness is without a doubt his son," he said. "Prince Hithon is well protected just about every hour, day and night though. I don't think I ever heard of him leaving the palace in all the months we were there. Especially after my botch, the odds of us getting people inside Castle Armathain are slim to none."

Vinie shook her head. "Stop blaming yourself. What about his sister then, Princess Ellorae? You said that she was leaving the capital for the east to marry one of the clan eimirs?"

"Rhadu, the head of clan A'Khet, yas. The princess left Amenthere within a day of our escape, actually. By now she'll be...oh, just about to Geristan."

A titter from Kiiss brought everyone's attention reluctantly to her. She had seated herself at one end of the table, leaning back with her hands folded across her stylishly cut gomesi dress. Vinie was actually surprised Kiiss had been silent for as long as she had.

"Oh my dear masterpiece, did you learn nothing while we were in Amenthere? Princess Ellorae is an Amentherian lady, you don't think she'd travel like a messenger late for delivery, do you? No no, no quick horseback rides for her. She'll be making the journal in state, riding in a fine carriage with wagons full of clothes, jewelry and gifts for her new husband from the king. I don't image she'll arrive at Geristan for another three days at the very earliest!"

"And then even longer to cross The Teeth..." Reyson said, the cogs and gears in his close-cropped head visibly turning.

Vinie was right behind him. "Which gives us time to get a message on a bird's leg to Sula and Nadathan in Anset."

"They could be ready to lie in wait and intercept Ellorae when she comes out of the mountains on the eastern side," said Gideo. "There's no other way through The Teeth from north to south across all of Goran, since we know she's not sailing from the Bay of Torbos at Moaan."

"With his sister as our hostage, Mahir wouldn't dare attack Moaan, or retaliate against Sahar in Utunma," Reyson added.

The only voice of opposition was Bakko. "It's a risky notion," he said, a gnarled finger drumming nervously against the handle of his cane. "Someone of importance like Ellorae will have lots of protection with her on the road?"

"Nadathan and Sula's crew fly around on griffins though, remember Dad?" Vinie pointed out. "Even Knights of Amenthis can't ward off an attack from above, especially if, like Kiiss said, the princess will be traveling with a load of goods and attendants to slow them down."

"When was the last time we heard from them, by the way?" asked Gideo.

"Just after we sent them that ship to Derbesh with money and new recruits. Remember, the one I wrote to you about?"

"Oh yas," Bakko answered for Gideo, even as the younger man nodded. "The group with that strange white fellow in it. I hope the open sea and sky in the east have done the poor boy some good."

"I hope Nadathan found a weapon he could actually make good use of," muttered Reyson. The gruff taskmaster hadn't been particularly impressed by the forlorn, un-imposing young man whom Vinie had found half-dead in the Forest of Latharan several leagues out from Falerik. Vinie sent Reyson an unimpressed look of her own.

"And I hope you keep in mind that the Factionists are a cause, not a machine," she said evenly.

Kiiss' voice broke in from the end of the table, somewhere between amused and just a touch irritated. "Cause, machine or bad investment, whichever you all claim to be, are you going to put the information Gideo has brought you back from Amenthere to good use or nah?"

"Anyone strongly against the plan to have Sula and Nadathan capture Princess Ellorae on her way east?" Vinie opened the floor to any final arguments, although she hoped there wouldn't be any. It was only a matter of days if not sooner before Mahir heard about Sahar's coup in Utunma. They would need the Moaanese guard sooner rather than later.

When no such arguments were forthcoming, Vinie nodded in satisfaction. "Alright then, I'll write a message to Nadathan and Sula and have it flown to them straight away." The rumble of voices from above drew their eyes toward the musty ceiling. "Dad, you had better get back to your customers, before they start looking for you."

"We're lucky Sula and Nadathan know their business when it comes to a fight," said Bakko with a sigh before turning to go. Vinie would have liked to spend more time with him after being away in Moaan, but it would have to wait. For now, there were already half a dozen Factionists clustered in the hall outside the main room, waiting to pelt their returned leader with logistics, reports and other business.

Before she could turn to call them inside, Gideo closed the distance around them table between them and caught her by the arm. It was just a touch; more a light flutter of fingertips on the inside of her elbow than anything else, but the way he drew in a breath before speaking told Vinie the weight of what he wanted to say. This was neither the time nor place for such things though, especially not with Reyson and Kiiss in the room.

"Tonight," she mouthed to Gideo. He fell back a step, mouth closing in acceptance. Vinie still felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck when she turned around. All throughout the rest of the day, Gideo's gaze often fell across her, as silently purposeful as a coastal breeze.

OoOoO

That evening found Vinie sitting up at the rickety little desk in her room in the basement of the Drunken SkinPainter, scratching out a message to Sula and Nadathan with a goose-feather quill. Darkness fell sooner below ground than above, and Vinie wrote by the light of a tall beeswax candle. The small, windowless room often came dangerously close to reminding Vinie of her cell in the Utunman prison where she had languished away ten years of her life. Shockingly, sometimes that wasn't a bad thing.

Setting down the quill and pushing her stool back from the desk, Vinie rolled her shoulders to press out a few satisfying cracks. Letting her breath out in a long, slow sigh, she closed her eyes and watched the glow of the candle through her eyelids.

'Where are you, Zaneo?' she wondered. 'Why has it been so long?'

The last time she had heard her long-murdered husband's voice had been when she followed it into the haunted Forest of Latharan. Once, Vinie had even seen Zaneo's face in the sea-spray, just in time to avoid underwater danger. More and more days kept stretching between then and now. Sometimes Vinie worried that Zaneo was well and truly gone. But that was ridiculous though, wasn't it? Zaneo had been dead for twelve years now. Surely he was gone. Even a SeaSon couldn't cheat an executioner's axe. If he wasn't gone, then where and what was he?

A knock came at the door, jostling Vinie out of her thoughts. Standing and wrapping her shawl around her bare arms, Vinie padded across the hard-packed dirt floor to answer it. The wooden door dragged across the ground despite Vinie's best effort to open it quietly.

Gideo stood waiting on the threshold. Vinie didn't know why she found it so relieving to see him dressed in his own clothes again; an open vest without sleeves which revealed the tattoos on his arms and light, comfortable pants. Dressed in the garb of a manservant, Gideo just hadn't looked like himself. Vinie also noticed the edge of the bandage peeking up above his shoulder. Gideo didn't seem troubled by it when he turned sideways to slip into the room. Vinie shut the door behind him.

No sooner had she turned away from the latch when Vinie found herself walking straight into Gideo's waiting arms. He folded her up like a log of rice in a banana leaf, pulling her in so close that the side of her face pressed flush against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat loud and clear, every steady beat pulsing beneath her cheek. Gideo buried his nose in her frizzy, unwashed hair and breathed deeply.

"Mmmmm..."

Apart from that hum of contentment, neither of them said anything. Vinie stood there listening to Gideo's heart for so long that she felt she could be able to hear its rhythm forever now. Without consciously deciding to, Vinie and Gideo slid down to first sit and then recline on Vinie's narrow bed. The feather mattress was under stuffed and sagged beneath them, but it only took a little shifting before they could lie comfortably facing each other.

Gideo's long legs hooked around Vinie's lean ones, tangling them together like strands of seaweed. Vinie meanwhile wriggled a hand out from beneath the two of them to start tracing the otters and waves inked along Gideo's biceps. They passed smooth and firm beneath her touch, undulating black shapes upon a dark sea.

It had been so many long years since Vinie had held someone and been held like this. It felt both foreign and like a homecoming. She could feel Gideo tracing circles at the base of her spine, gentle and unhurried through the thin cloth of her nightshirt.

For what felt like minutes but was probably hours, they lay entwined like that, just enjoying being close to each other. The warmth between them reminded Vinie nostalgically of the heat of the sun on Utunma's white sand beaches. Would there be a life for them there someday, at home? Vinie imagined it might be too late for children of her own by the time this rebellion was finally over. Still, that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the rest of their days together, her, Gideo, Bakko and Sahar. Perhaps that pleasant dream even included Reyson and Kiiss...on holidays and other special occasions.

Gideo's tracing on her back stopped. Vinie noticed that the silence had turned from comfortable to thoughtful. Looking up at Gideo, so close that she brushed his chin with the tip of her nose, she frowned slightly.

"Gideo?"

Gideo's faraway gaze refocused, and his brows furrowed together a tiny bit. He turned those warm brown eyes on Vinie, and she saw sadness in them.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I was just thinking about Amenthere, and the things I saw and did while there."

"If you're blaming yourself for Mahir's escape again..."

"It's not that." Gideo squeezed Vinie's hip, then withdrew his hand. "Even though Mahir lived, there is still blood on my hands, and I feel the weight of it. You may have been right about the Stargazers, Vinie."

Concerned, Vinie propped herself up on one elbow to better look Gideo eye-to-eye. He didn't flinch from her gaze, but she could see now how troubled he was.

"What do you mean?" A terrible thought occurred to her then. "What did the Stargazers make you do, Gideo?"

The candlelight flickered across Gideo's face, casting the broad, handsome bones of his face in sharp relief. Shadows hid in the hollows of his throat and eyes.

"Nothing, actually. What I mean is that, even without planning to, the business of killing seems to create even more bloodshed than a person intends."

It wasn't like Gideo to dance around an issue. Whatever it was, it was bothering him deeply. Vinie waited, swallowing the urge to press him for more before he was ready to speak.

Finally, Gideo did continue. "The Blue Obad who helped me inside the castle, Margalee. I heard through the castle servants what they did to her and the old High Obad, Tomur. After Zaneo, you know I couldn't really care less what happened to Tomur. But Margalee...she...I saw in her what Zaneo might have been, if he'd been given a chance." He swallowed, now at last looking away from Vinie. "Mahir had their eyes put out with hot irons. Blinded and banished, left out in the wilds to the north. I don't even know if a person can live long, left to their own devices with wounds like that. I don't know if Margalee lived or died, and I abandoned her to suffer in my place."

"Gideo..." Vinie struggled to find words. Finding none, she did the only thing she could think to do and pushed Gideo flat over on his back, moving to straddle his waist so she knew she had his full attention. "If you had stayed...if you'd been caught, Mahir would have killed you. Margalee, and even Tomur, at least they have a chance. There would have been no such chance for you. You know it, and I'll wager Margalee knew it too."

"I know. Even then I knew it. That's why I feel so much guilt; because even then, as I turned my back and left her there on the bridge, I knew I wouldn't trade our places given the chance. All I could think about what would happen if Mahir had me killed, like Zaneo or worse...and word got back to you."

The very thought made Vinie almost light-headed. She could feel the blood drain from her face, and she clutched at Gideo's vest with vice-tight fingers.

"I will not endure that. Do you hear me, Gideo? I will not. I refuse."

"And I will never make you," said Gideo, looking up at her with swimming eyes even as his hands moved to wrap reassuringly around her knees. "That's why I ran, even though it's tearing me up to remember doing it."

What could Vinie say to lessen the guilt Gideo had carried back from Amenthere with him? Nothing she could say would bring back the Obads' eyes, or restore them to the capital. Could she even really absolve Gideo of the part he had played in their fates, even if only in his own mind? She just didn't have the answers at that moment. She had Gideo though, and she was determined to show him that he also had her. Lunging downward, Vinie seized Gideo's face in her hands and pressed a firm, open-mouthed kiss to his lips.

Since he and Bakko had freed her from prison, Vinie and Gideo had been circling one another cautiously. From friends to confidantes to Factionists, the two of them had never really known where they stood in each others' lives. There was a ghost in both of their hearts; a blue-eyed ghost that never quite seemed ready to become a memory. The black pearl bound on Vinie's sweaty brow glimmered in the candlelight between them. When Gideo pressed a kiss to her forehead just beneath it, Vinie knew then that the ghosts in their hearts were at last put to rest.

OoOoO