“The Gull provided the fish,” Surim said. He handed Mirar a mug. “I brought the kahr.”
Mirar drank a mouthful of the strong liquor. “Ah!” he sighed. “I needed that. I’m afraid I don’t have anything to contribute.”
“You brought us Auraya,” Tamun said.
They all looked at Auraya, who remained silent, staring into the fire.
“So, what will we all do now?” Surim asked. He filled another mug with kahr and handed it to Emerahl. “Any plans?”
Emerahl shrugged. “I have always wanted to start a school of sorcery and healing.”
Mirar looked at her in surprise. “I thought you decided you never wanted to be the center of anything again, after being worshipped as The Hag?”
“I never meant that to happen, and I spent all my energy trying to escape it. Maybe if I start something myself, and put my energy into controlling it, it will work out differently. Besides,” she lifted her mug in salute to him, “I’ve got an expert to consult on founding and controlling a group of sorcerers. What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “Help Dreamweavers recover from the last hundred or so years. This time I have two continents to roam. I always knew my people spread into the south; I don’t know why I never visited them before.”
“Because the gods were doing worrying things in the north,” Surim answered.
“What about you two?” Emerahl asked, looking at Surim and Tamun. “What will you do?”
Surim looked at his sister. “Stop hiding, for a start. I’d like to travel.”
“I don’t want to go back to being famous,” Tamun said. “How can we give people advice, anyway? We don’t know how the death of the gods will change things.” She looked at her brother. “I don’t want to travel yet, either. I think...” She paused to consider. “I think I’d like to settle somewhere. A place where people make things. Craftspeople. Artists. That sort of thing.”
“And I will visit you - maybe I’ll sell what your people make!” Surim exclaimed. “I could become a merchant!”
The Gull chuckled. “I guess I’ll be seeing you on the water.”
“You’re not going to change anything, are you?” Emerahl said.
The boy shook his head. “The sea is my home. It took me a thousand years to find it, and I see no reason to change.”
They fell into a thoughtful silence. A thousand years before he became The Gull, Mirar thought. And he was a legend before I became immortal. How old is he?
“I’m going back to Si,” Auraya said. They all looked at her. Mirar felt his heart lift. She’ll be all right, he thought. In time she’ll forget about the gods, and Chaia. And she has plenty of time to do so.
Auraya frowned. “After I retrieve Mischief,” she added. She touched the blue cloth wound around her body. “And pay that merchant for this and the food I took.”
Emerahl chuckled. “You’ll need some money, then.”
Auraya looked up. “Yes.”
“I have the next best thing. I buried it not far from here, actually.”
“The treasure,” Surim said.
Emerahl smiled. “Yes. I think I can spare a little for Auraya. After all, she couldn’t have turned up in rags - or with no clothes on. That just wouldn’t have been right.”
“I don’t know...” Mirar disagreed.
“Mischief,” Surim said. “Didn’t he free Auraya? Who is this man?”
“A veez,” Mirar said.
Surim looked at Mirar in surprise, then grinned. “Do you mean that, after all you did - or failed to do - to free Auraya, it was a veez that managed it?”
“Yes,” Emerahl replied.
Surim laughed. “I wonder if this poor creature realizes it spoiled any chances you had that Auraya would fall into your arms in gratitude.”
Emerahl snorted. “For the sake of women everywhere, tell me you wouldn’t have done that, Auraya.”
The corner of Auraya’s mouth twitched upward. “I might have. I might not.” She looked at Mirar. “I guess we’ll never know.”
He shrugged. “The past can’t be changed. But the future looks good. Full of endless possibilities.”
Looking away, he saw that the others were exchanging smug grins before they quickly smoothed their expressions.
“And no gods,” Emerahl added.
“But still plenty of mortals,” The Gull said. “Don’t underestimate them. They can be as dangerous as gods. More dangerous, as the gods were limited by the need for willing followers to do their work.”
The others considered this silently.
“We should stay in contact,” Emerahl said, looking around. “Visit each other - and perhaps meet once a year.”
“Yes,” Surim agreed. “Perhaps at Tamun’s new empire of artists.”
Mirar was pleased to see Auraya nodding.
“I’ll visit you all, so long as you let me know where you are, as I travel around the continents,” he said. He looked at Auraya. “Will I be welcome in Si?”
She almost smiled. “Of course.”
Mirar felt his heart stir with hope. Careful, he told himself. Don’t jump to any conclusions. You mustn’t rush her. She needs time to recover from everything that’s happened.
Emerahl rose to her feet. “If we’re going to get this treasure, we’d better do it before we drink too much.” She looked at Auraya. “Would you help me carry it?”
Auraya shrugged, then rose and followed Emerahl into the sand dunes. Looking at her wasted body, Mirar felt a pang of concern. Help her carry it? I don’t think so. He got to his feet and followed.
He caught up with Auraya soon after. She was out of breath, and had stopped. Emerahl’s tracks led away, over the top of a dune. Auraya turned to smile ruefully at him.
“Your healing method does have its limitations,” she told him.
He nodded. “You can only draw upon the resources you have. But a few meals should help fix that.”
Auraya nodded and looked at the ground, frowning. Concerned, he moved closer.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up, then smiled and, without warning, stepped close and kissed him on the mouth. It was more than a mere friendly kiss, but it was brief.
It left him frozen in surprise, heart pounding.
“What was that for?” he managed eventually.
“A thank you,” she said. “All through my... my captivity you kept me company. You gave me hope and courage.” She paused. “And as you said, the future is full of endless possibilities.”
She smiled and, not waiting for him to say anything in return, turned away to determinedly follow Emerahl’s footsteps up the sand dune.
Mirar watched her disappear over the top, then followed, knowing he was grinning like a fool, and not caring.
Epilogue
The man that walked hesitantly through the door was thin and lean. His clothes were simple but the cloth was not poor quality, and his sandals were new. Despite his nervousness, he walked with the ease of a man confident of his place in the world. His hair was gray and his skin wrinkled, but his gaze was direct and sharp.
Propped up on pillows, the Emperor of Sennon assessed the man out of old habit and with skill learned over his long life. Though he saw intelligence and confidence in this man, he also noted with relief the absence of a certain hardness of demeanor he had come to recognize in men who were ambitious, greedy or cruel.
But the man is a fanatic, he decided. I can spot them a hundred paces off.
The man took in the bed, the emperor and his companion in one quick glance, then dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.