The Book of Terrus: The Ghosts of Goran

Epilogue

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Despite the season, the fog which blanketed Falerik was strangely warm. According to Bakko, the fog came from warm coastal air blowing up from the south meeting the cooler inland clime. Vinie didn't mind it though. Actually, the constant shrouding of mist reminded her of mornings on the beach at Utunma.

She sat alone on the rooftop of the Drunken Skinpainter in her usual spot, right where she had sat with Gideo. That had been in the early autumn though, and now they were a week on the far side of the winter solstice. In all the time between now and then they had had a handful of letters from Gideo, and a couple from Sula and Nadathan too. Although Gideo spoke at length about King Mahir's court at Amenthere, he was largely silent about his own experiences. Vinie couldn't guess whether he had met up with the group Kiiss had called Stargazers or not. Even if he had, there was no need for Gideo to employ such skills at the moment. In her heart Vinie hoped there never would be.

A rooster crowed somewhere in Falerik, likely perched on the ridge of a roof much like Vinie. It was still mostly dark, the sun yet to crest the horizon and herald a new day. Soon there would be people in the streets below, and Vinie would have to return to their basement hideout. There was much to be done.

They marched in Moaan in less than a week. The date for their demonstration had kept getting pushed back and pushed back, each time for different reasons. Finally, Vinie had had enough and put her foot down.

"Strike before the iron goes completely cold, or miss our chance completely," she had declared, silencing any further argument, even from Bakko. "Enough foot-dragging; tell our contacts in Moaan to make their final preparations and get ready for our arrival. We'll be in the city by next moon dark, wanted posters be damned. It's time for the Factionists to make themselves known to the world."

That was one thing she had to, albeit grudgingly, thank Reyson for. Having the knight-turned-bodyguard around had actually done wonders for Vinie's confidence. If she didn't insist on taking charge, Reyson would, without a doubt, do it for her. There was no room for doubt or hesitation with him around, and Vinie found herself growing more comfortable giving orders. Sometimes she wondered if that wasn't Reyson's aim all along, especially when she caught him smirking into his fist after she had shouted him down over a difference of opinion on keeping order among their restless volunteers.

The basement was full to bursting with people from all over southern Goran now. They were going to have to do something about that. If any more tried to squeeze in downstairs, it would soon become impossible to keep themselves hidden from the inn patrons on the main floor. Perhaps a Factionist base needed to be established in Danitesk, and Utunma, or even Moaan. Who would be in charge of those bases though? Vinie felt the sudden urge to write to Sahar in Utunma. It was a big ask, but Vinie could think of no one whom she trusted more. Besides, by now Sahar was probably wondering if she, Bakko, and Gideo were even still alive. Then again, by now they were probably so wanted that half of southern Goran knew their faces.

That was all waiting downstairs though. For just a few more minutes, Vinie didn't want to be "The Black Pearl" or "Firebelly"; she just wanted to be Vinie, the woman who was once a PearlDiver. A tiny laugh escaped her and she shook her head. At this rate, she was going to have so many names that no one would even know what to call her.

Tucking her knotwork shawl around her arms, Vinie rubbed at the long-healed scars on her forearms. They stood out like shiny ribbons against her dark skin. Then the little white marriage knot on her palm caught her eye and she smiled.