The four ladies stepped through the hidden portal one by one, disappearing from Fayelwen’s bedroom in Stormweaver and reemerging in a large, dust-laden chamber on the other side. One second, they were leaning into a hole in the wall concealed by a painting of daisies; the next, they found themselves standing before another identical painting in the Strumwiever townhouse in Lower Elindoryl.

Faye, the last to cross, carefully reached back to nudge the painting into place, ensuring that the magic concealed the opening just as smoothly from the opposite side. Her dark hair caught the faint light that filtered through the drawn curtains, and she exhaled in quiet triumph once the portal vanished from sight. The entire sequence took only a blink of time for them.

A stray ray of sunlight beamed through a gap in the shutters, illuminating the swirling dust particles. Faye sneezed, bringing a hand quickly to her mouth. “Oh my,” she said, her midnight-blue eyes widening. “Please excuse me. This place needs fresh air – badly!”

She glided across the room and unlatched a large window, pushing it outward. A breeze swept in, carrying the lively scents of the city streets far below: roasted chestnuts, pungent herbs, and the salty tang of the nearby ocean breezes. Elle joined her, leaning against the window’s sill to gaze down at Elindoryl’s bustling thoroughfares.

“It’s so different from the palace district,” Elle murmured, unable to mask her excitement. Tiny figures moved through the winding streets – elves in bright cloaks, street vendors calling out in melodic voices, acrobats flipping in narrow lanes. “All that life… it’s marvelous.”

Meanwhile, Aer walked a slow circle around the dusty space, taking stock of the townhouse’s disuse. Plush chairs stood covered in sheets, paintings leaned against walls, and cobwebs clung to an old chandelier. She raised a brow at Faye. “You kept quite a secret!” she teased, her voice echoing in the airy, long-abandoned room.

Faye turned from the window and offered a proud smile. “I’ve been working on this portal for months. Mostly at night. No one comes here anymore, so I figured it was perfect for my…experiments.”

Lior was absorbed by the painting from which they had emerged. Her teal eyes traced the runes, and faint magical etchings ringed the canvas. “It’s genius,” she said breathlessly, her fingertips grazing the invisible energy. “You anchored the spell to these symbols, then reinforced it with an internal matrix. Did you integrate a stabilizing incantation from an old runic text?”

A delighted laugh escaped Faye. “Exactly. I tried weaving classical runic theory with modern enchantment techniques so that it wouldn’t raise suspicion. The painting looks ordinary unless you know how to activate the portal. A little dust helps, too.”

Liori’s inquisitive nature took over, and a flurry of questions passed between them. “But how did you maintain the dimensional link? Did you bond a physical conduit, or is it purely arcane?”

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“Have you had any issues with misalignment?”

“What about flux? Or traveling in groups?”

A lively back-and-forth ensued, peppered with the jargon of runic anchoring, phrases like “mana weave,” “keystone glyph,” and “spatial compression.” Faye explained the basic concept behind her portal – how she’d fashioned a stable bridging point between two places she knew intimately. It was not large enough to march through an army, nor would it last forever without maintenance, but it was perfect for the occasional discreet getaway.

Aer circled the room with measured steps as the other two women spoke, checking corners and peering into adjoining chambers. She gave a satisfied nod. “Townhouse seems empty. I doubt anyone’s going to drop by.”

Elle finally turned from the windowsill. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the city’s energy, and her eyes glittered excitedly. “So… we’re here, and no one knows,” she said, her voice colored with a delicious sense of forbidden freedom. What should we do first? Go shopping? Taste street foods? Watch performers?”

“Stealth might be wise,” Aer cautioned, though her tone carried a hint of anticipation. “At least until we’re sure no one’s caught wind of a miraculous recovery from Lady Strumwiever.”

Faye grinned, her expression equal parts mischievous and defiant. “Let them think I’m still bedridden. The city is ours for the afternoon, maybe the evening, too. This is the perfect opportunity to enjoy ourselves.”

Liori tightened the ribbon at the collar of her priestess robe and stepped lightly around the scattered furniture. “We just must be mindful of any watchers in the city. But it is Lower Elindoryl, far less scrutiny here than by the palace.”

Faye, Aer, and Liori clustered around Elle at the window again, gazing at the winding streets below. The ever-present glow of Elytheris’s sky lent everything a golden hue, and the hum of traffic and chatter floated up to them.

Faye turned to them, placing her hands on her hips. “Whatever we decide, we need to move fast. Winnie won’t stay asleep forever, and I’d rather not have her stumbling through the portal in search of me.”

A chorus of light laughter rippled through the group. For a fleeting moment, they were children again, secretly spreading their wings, reveling in small acts of rebellion. Dust motes danced in the sunlight around them, marking the silent passage of time.

“All right,” Elle whispered, eyes bright. “Let’s go see Elindoryl.”

“Let’s kidnap Kali,” suggested Faye, a mischievous gleam dancing in her midnight-blue eyes.

“She’s on duty,” Elle reminded her, though her lips curved in a slight smirk. “Last I heard, she and her unit were stationed near the harbor.”

Liori tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin. “Should we disrupt her while she’s working?”

Aer rolled her violet eyes with an offhand shrug. “We could happen to run into her on the streets accidentally. No need to lure her off-duty if we only bump into her for a moment or two.”

As they descended the townhouse’s grand staircase, their laughter and chatter echoed against the walls. Plush carpeting softened their footfalls, and the corridors were decorated with painted portraits of the Strumwiever ancestors perched on balconies or standing beneath ancient trees. It was stately, quiet. At the front entrance, Faye paused to lock the heavy wooden door behind them. The bronze key clinked reassuringly in her hand.

“Swiped the key while no one was looking?” Aer teased, crossing her arms.

“Nope.” Faye smiled, tucking the key into her small leather bag. “I asked Father for it, and he agreed.”

Elle cast her a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised in playful doubt. “Just like that?”

Faye pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Cross my heart, hope to die if I lie.” She dramatically closed one eye and turned her face skyward. After a beat, she grinned broadly. “See? I didn’t die, so I must be telling the truth.”