Epilogue – Divergent Trails

Cat tapped her foot impatiently, sitting behind the large, stained table. Frost tinkered with a mechanical monkey in the light of the window.

It was not the best hideout. It had once been a painter’s studio, many years ago. Now the paint was flaking off the walls, and it smelled of mold. But it was safe, for now. It was an old Bluebird hideout that the government hadn’t managed to track down. Yet.

Tess finally entered and shrugged off her coat.

“You’re late,” Cat said.

“Sorry about that,” Tess said. She pulled out a chair and sat down by the table, placing a flat, leather briefcase on the tabletop. “I do have a cover to uphold, you know.”

“Still.”

“Is Linton coming?” Tess asked, brushing a leaf out of her hair.

“Haven’t seen him in days,” Cat said. “He left just after Couldess died.”

“Left? Where to?”

Cat shrugged. “Hard to say. You know what he’s like. Mentioned something about ‘getting answers’.”

Tess looked around the room. “I see. Aren’t we still one short? Where’s Doc?”

“Doc is dead,” Cat said curtly. “He died in the battle.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a while. Cat leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed.

“So,” Frost said. “What’s Whittler up to? Aside from exterminating every revolutionary in the city like fucking rats.”

“Well, she’s the Warmaster now,” Tess said. “She can do whatever she wants. Closest thing we’ve had to a true dictator in two hundred years.”

Frost snorted out a laugh. When Tess didn’t join in, he slowly let it taper off. “The people won’t stand for it. No gods, no kings, that’s what the Concord is supposed to be. The old bitch is mad to go against that.”

“Mad or not, she might just have enough support to pull it off. After the battle of Northmark and all the executions, most people are happy to have any sense of stability. Whittler wants to consolidate all the power under one rule. Can’t get much more stable than that.”

“So, we find a way to stop her,” Cat said. “While Linton’s gone, I’m the default leader of the Bluebirds. Where do you suggest we start?”

Tess contemplated for several seconds. “I think I might have an idea.”

***

The landing ramp extended with a hiss. Linton was immediately hit with a wave of intense heat and moist air that seemed to stick to the inside of his throat.

Stepping out onto the landing platform, he looked out over the squat, sun-bleached city before him, filled with noise and people, barking dogs and loitering vagrants, sleazy hookers and petty bandits.

Tumba, the pirate capital of the world.

Quintilla waited at the edge of the platform, hands on hips.

“Hey there, kiddo,” she said. “Enjoying the view?”

Linton walked down the ramp, keeping his breathing even despite the hollow pain in his chest. He tapped a bit of ground-up laughing-bark into his pipe and lit it, puffing on the smoke. He sighed with relief.

“Looks like shit,” he said.

“I know. Great, right?”

Linton joined his mother and they walked off the extended platform onto the docks.

“I have to say, I was surprised to hear you’d be coming,” she said. “I have Tessie and the others staying at this lovely little inn. I’ll take you there right away—I’ve already set you up with a room.”

“Later,” Linton said. “I want to talk to you first.”

Quintilla stopped dead in her tracks. “You? Me? Talk? Couldess must have given you a real hard knock on the head.”

“Don’t take it as flattery. There’s something I need to know.”

Quintilla kept walking. “Yeah? And what’s that? I reckon I don’t know all that much you’re not already privy to, clever boy and all.”

Linton blew smoke out of his nostrils. “The beast inside the dark place. Tell me everything you know about it.”

Quintilla glanced over at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I need to know.”

***

Aeva reached the crest of the wooded hill. She breathed deeply, taking in the forest’s smell. She wore a heavy cloak to conceal her form—as she was still in human territory—and to keep the elements away. It was pinned together at the front by a blue, glassy flower.

She looked down over the area below. A sea of green cut open by a deep blue lake at the bottom of the bowl-shaped valley. A small river ran away from the lake. It signified the border between the Concordian province of Beria and the former nation of Anderland, now a territory completely absorbed into Gaerwyn.

Almost home.

She touched the Crown hanging by her hip on a loop of frayed rope.

Too much time had passed. She would see Anderland a free country once more. It was her duty.

It was her destiny.

Aeva started walking into the valley. She felt a guiding hand on her shoulder, ever pushing her onward.