OoOoO
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.
My body has changed so much since I was a girl; would my own mum even recognize me now? Somehow she imagined that even now Yemaya CandleMaker would know her one and only child.
"Vinie."
If Vinie lived a hundred years she would never forget that voice. The last time she had heard it had been in her dark, lonely prison cell in Utunma. Stiffening, Vinie listened long and hard to the crisp morning air. Birds were singing in the long grass just outside of Falerik, and from somewhere nearby the rooster crowed again. The frost on the rooftops sparkled silver, reflecting the deep blue of the sky before sunrise. There was no one about though, and certainly no sign of the one person in the world whose voice that could have been.
"Vinie."
There it came again, soft as a sigh borne on the wind. There was no mistaking it this time. Vinie knew for certain now that she was either crazy or...
"Zaneo?"
She stood up so quickly that she nearly lost her footing on the frost-slicked roof shingles. A moment of wobbling nearly stole her attention from the voice of her long dead husband. Ignoring the thundering of her heart, Vinie cast about, looking for any sign of Zaneo in the quiet streets of Falerik.
"Vinie...Come..."
This time where as a definite direction to Zaneo's voice. The scent of mulch reached Vinie on the wind. Slowly but surely, her gaze fell on the haunted Forest of Latharan. No one from town ever went anywhere near the forest, or at least that was what she had heard. Even the local vineyards left at least half a league between their fences and the forest's edge. From her perch on the rooftop, Vinie could just make out the forest canopy swaying slightly in the winter breeze.
There was never even a second thought in Vinie's mind. In a heartbeat, she was down off the rooftop and running toward the edge of town. Her shawl tore loose from around her shoulders, leaving her in just her rough white shirt and leather vest. Not pausing to care if anyone saw or recognized her, Vinie set her stride straight for the Forest of Latharan.
A narrow, winding wagon trail led her out of town and through a vineyard. The grapes had long since been harvested, leaving their vines dull and bare until the spring. A dog barked from down a side lane as Vinie sprinted past. A flock of little grey birds, startled by her gasping breaths, burst out of the wintering field and into flight. Here the mist was just beginning to turn bright with the first rays of the rising sun. It clung to Vinie's clothes and plastered them to her body along with her sweat.
The closer she came to the forest, the thinner the trail became. By the time she reached the farthest eves of Latharan there was nothing more than a deer trail for her to follow. Only now did Vinie pause, chest heaving, to look up at the forest.
There were no forests like this in southern Goran, especially not around Utunma. The Forest of Latharan was nothing like the jungle through which they had passed in Kiiss's carriage on their way out of Moaan. All of the leaves had fallen in the autumn, leaving the trees bare and austere. Even without leaves, their branches grew so tightly packed together that it was dark as far inside as Vinie could see. The wind made the trees sway slightly, and their ancient trunks let out low creaks and groans, like the rigging of a ship.
"Zaneo? Are you there?" Vinie called out. Her voice echoed into the forest, carrying further and further away until she could no longer here it.
"Come." Came the reply.
Needing no further urging, Vinie plunged straight into the haunted forest.
OoOoO
The Forest of Latharan was like a waking dream to Vinie. The further in she went, the taller and thicker the trees became, until they were larger than even the main mast of the biggest merchant vessels. Some were so huge that one could have hollowed out their mossy trunks and made a comfortable home inside. Round, flat fungi grew in shelves ringing round the trees, so pale they seemed to glow in the gloom. Dead black leaves covered the ground. Every time Vinie put down a foot, the scent of rich, rotting earth filled the air. From far above a few rays of white morning sunlight managed to pierce the naked canopy, trickling down to the forest floor like moonbeams.
Zaneo's voice continued to call to Vinie from some place unseen and all around, urging her onward. At times he sounded far, far away, and at others he could have been whispering right in her ear. There were others now too, and Vinie nearly wept from the sheer overwhelming shock of it all.
"From the sea, of the sea, to the sea." Wasani chanted in a low baritone, underlying the other voices.
"We did it for love!" Kor cried out.
"Free them," Irem insisted. "Free them all."
"From the sea, of the sea, to the sea."
"Vinie, don't hold back. Be whole," Zaneo murmured in her ear.
"From the sea, of the sea, to the sea."
"Where are you?!" Vinie called, casting about frantically for any sign of her lost ones. A white moth resting on a mossy tree trunk nearby fluttered its wings. The voices went on and on, and Vinie followed, deeper and deeper into the Forest of Latharan.
Something moved at the edge of her vision, something pale and mist-like. Vinie spun about so quickly that she nearly tripped on an exposed root. Whatever she had seen was gone. In its place, Vinie saw an overgrown trail leading away into the gloom. A strange scent came to her, vaguely sweet and flowery. Panting, Vinie had to stop for a moment to lean against a tree. She could still hear Wasani's chanting in the back of her mind.
There it was again! It was so fast, so fleeting, Vinie couldn't even begin to describe what she had seen. Whatever it was, it was leading her further into the forest, off the deer path. A moment of uncertainty cautioned Vinie. What if she became lost in this place?
"I'm coming," she said aloud, mustering up her courage. Zaneo would never lead her astray.
Stumbling over protruding roots and ducking low hanging branches, Vinie pressed on through the forest. The air took on a sort of strange, eerie light as the sun rose beyond the trees. There was a sense of timelessness here, much like Vinie had felt when seeing The Teeth for the first time. She got the feeling that there were places in The Forest of Latharan that no living person had ever set foot in, nor ever would.
"This way," a girl's voice whispered, soft and melodic. "Tell him that I am warm now." She sounded very young and more than a little sad.
Vinie had no idea what that meant, nor did she recognize this new voice. The chorus of voices that had led her so far into the unknown suddenly stopped, leaving her alone.
That was when Vinie saw him. A lone figure lay huddled at the bottom of one of the largest trees, half-tucked into the gaping maw of exposed roots at the tree's base. An old man, Vinie guessed, judging by the white beard resting on the top of his darkly-stained tunic. Cautiously drawing closer, Vinie realized the stains were blood.
The man's sleeves, pants, and boots were tattered and charred, as was his traveling cloak. A sickly, sweet smell hung in the air around him; the scent of infection long left to fester untreated. He looked dead, and for a moment Vinie thought he might be. His hood was up though, and she couldn't clearly see his face.
"Hello?"
When the man did not move, Vinie was even more certain that he was dead. Emboldened, she moved closer and crouched down in front of him. Now she could see most of the bottom half of the man's face. It was pale as sea foam, a shocking tone Vinie had never before seen on any person, living or dead.
"Hello?" She tried again.
Sudden movement nearly startled the life out of Vinie. The man's head snapped up, and she got her first full look at him. Not only was he not dead; he wasn't even nearly as old as she had first thought. No, this poor wretch was young, younger even than herself or Gideo. Everything about him was frost white though, from the tangled hair about his face to the rings of his eyes. His cheeks were sunken with starvation and his eyes...those pale, pale eyes. Vinie had never before in her entire life seen such misery. Her heart immediately filled with pity.
"Can you walk?" She held out her hand to the poor stranger.
Rather than respond, the man instead closed his eyes and weakly tried to turn his face away. Vinie knew the face of defeat when she saw it. Ten years alone in prison had brought her very close to such a dark place more than once.
Clearing her throat, Vinie remembered the words the girl's voice had spoken to her. They made no sense to her, but perhaps they would mean something to him.
"There was a girl. She said..." Something white moved out of the corner of Vinie's eye, and she swallowed. "...She said that she was warm now."
The man's eyes snapped open. Slowly he turned back toward Vinie. The look on his face was beyond words. Not knowing what else to say, Vinie extended her hand once more.
Jath reached up and took it.
OoOoO