Cold. Absolute, bone-chilling, no-fun cold.

“H-how are we colder when w-we’re closer to the s-sun?!” I shouted over the wind.

“The air is thinner here. Less to heat,” Phaeliisthia responded with a terse rumble from underneath us.

“What does that even mean?” I hissed through chattering teeth.

Kyrae hugged tighter against me, her meager warmth not nearly enough for my freezing lower body. “Maybe being small and warm isn’t always so bad, Issa!” the bundled elf teased, smiling up at me with eyes that I desperately wished had physical warmth to give.

“Your nose looks like mine feels,” I replied dejectedly, shifting a little in our embrace as we dropped slightly.

Kyrae thrust a mitten up to cover her face. “I’m just glad Phaeliisthia had all these winter clothes.”

“I-I agree,” Ssiina hissed through chattering teeth, her body wrapped around mine. Unlike us, she had her head down, tucked under her arms. “I do not even m-mind that they are all o-orange.”

Tyaniis chuckled above us, and we felt the vibrations all through our miserable, freezing heap. As our sire, she had volunteered to coil atop us and take the worst of the wind for herself. The four of us were piled into the immense bowl of what Phaeliisthia had insisted was a palanquin. It’s a saddle! A saddle! Call it what you want, but you made a saddle for us to sit in on top of you!

The flared sides did little to keep out the wind, and the uneven undulation of Phaeliisthia under us as she flew, accompanied by the great whooshing of her wings was enough to turn my stomach. At first, the flight had been fun—we’d seen the city, then Phaeliisthia’s estate.

Her island estate had risen out of the mangroves like some great beast covered unevenly in riotously-colored feathers, and the waterfall from our glade had been clearly visible as it plunged into tufts of trees. Then the mangroves had turned into a lumpy sea of green, shifting colors to different shades as the ground upwelled into rolling hills to the north. South of us, the Hssyri river had flowed down from the southwest, an immense halcyon ribbon in the late morning light.

And then we had passed through a cloud. The experience was dreamlike—like a cold void of water droplets—and it made me think of what a void opposed to my own might be like. Contrary to much of what I had read, neither the firmament or Jaezotl’s realm existed in the top of the cloud, only colder, thinner clouds, an increased difficulty breathing, and a bone numbing chill.

“Phaeliisthia!” Tyaniis shouted through chattering teeth, her own composure failing as her immense body was sapped of heat by the thin, frigid wind. “Can you fly lower, please? It does not matter if we are unseen if we are dead when we arrive!”

Phaeliisthia snorted.

“P-please?” I added.

I felt the serpent dragon roll her eyes. “Fine.”

Blissfully, but also nauseatingly, we descended. Splinters of pain began in my lower body as feeling returned, and once I felt I could move, I pulled myself mostly free from our family pile and slithered near the edge of the saddle to look over.

Kyrae and Ssiina joined me, our elven sister holding hands between us to keep her balance.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a stable enough body not to worry about falling?” I teased with a hissing laugh.

Kyrae flicked the tip of my forked tongue with her mittened hand and I hissed. For the next while, everything would now smell like the back of Phaeliisthia’s wardrobe storage. Kyrae smiled smugly, and I didn’t push the issue, instead letting Ssiina pull me around to point at what we were now flying over.

Eyes wide, I watched as the city of Ess’Sylantziis appeared in the distance through the clouds. We’d left in the morning, but now the evening sun hung low in the sky, and the orange cast the city in an otherworldly glow. Blue and brown ribbons of water met before it, and the Grand Temple rose above even the gardens and fleeting, shining walls of the Emerald Palace.

“It’s prettier from up here.” Kyrae breathed.

I reached an arm around and hugged her. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s the same sort of feeling, right? Hope and all that.”

“And anxiety,” my sister added. “Are you not—”

“I’m fine!” I gave Kyrae a winning smile. “The city didn’t hurt us, my curse did. Not your sticky fingers either.”

“I’m… mostly over it,” Kyrae whispered, but when I looked over I saw the tips of her lips quirk into a smile.

“Did you take something before we left?” Ssiina hissed.

Kyrae gave a sidelong glance toward our sire. She nodded in affirmation at Ssiina and me when she saw Tyaniis wasn’t looking. Just loud enough for Tyaniis to overhear, she replied, “No, of course not.”

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Phaeliisthia vibrated under us as she chuckled.

Kyrae turned bright red, squeaking, “I’m sorry!”

“Worry not, dear.” Phaeliisthia purred. “Had I not intended you to have them, I would not have left those coins out so prominently.”

“Daughter mine, you really ought to know better,” Tyaniis hissed. “The Emerald Palace will not extend you the same courtesy.”

“Only if they find out,” Phaeliisthia said coyly.

Tyaniis drew in breath sharply, and while the two of them bickered, us sisters went back to staring.

“What was it like?” Ssiina asked. “The first time you came here, I mean.”

“We took an aazh’kaa upriver from Ess’Siijiil. I remember the palace, but mostly the temple. Honestly, it’s a happy memory.”

Ssiina giggled. “Didn’t you jump into the river and swim ashore?”

I blushed. “Yep! Sure did!”

“If we weren’t so high up, Issa, I’d push you in,” Kyrae teased, finally tearing her attention away from Tyaniis and Phaeliisthia.

“Really though, Sisters, I’m glad,” Ssiina said somberly. “I’m glad Ess’Sylantziis holds happy memories as well as all the pain you two went through. I’m sorry help did not find you sooner.”

I squeezed her. “Thanks, Ssiina. But really, I just want to put that part of our lives behind us.”

Kyrae nodded. “Me too. Do you think we’ll get a chance to see Ssyri’zh Onussa?”

Ssiina shook her head. “Probably not. My best guess is that we’ll be ushered into the palace rather quickly. For now, you two are simply Sire’s guests. We already have enough rumors circulating about what you two mean to her that the best we can do is direct them away from the truth of the matter.”

“So we can’t just let everyone know?” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice.

“Would that that were the case,” my sire rumbled in reply, slithering closer to wrap me in a hug. “Sister Ssyii will know, and that shall be enough for now. I fear not the backlash for your reintroduction or Kyrae’s adoption. You two may even yet be ready to face our world—our place in society—but your curse is what worries me. We shall see what Sister decides—for that will be our ultimatum.”

“What if she doesn’t accept what you’re doing?” Kyrae asked.

Tyaniis looked out over the approaching city for a long moment. “She will, of that I am certain.”

“But what if she doesn’t? What then?” Kyrae pressed.

Tyaniis closed her eyes and sighed. “Then I will disobey.”

Underneath us Phaeliisthia chuckled. “Finally found your spine again, Tyaniis? It’s a wonder you lost it, considering how long yours must be.”

I furrowed my brow. “What would that mean?”

Tyaniis hugged all of us closer. “It would mean that I would forfeit my rights as hssen—and perhaps even as a citizen of Jii’Kalaga. That, I do not mind, what I worry for is that you three, by extension would also lose those rights. I do not enjoy making that decision for you, especially as you are all on the verge of adulthood.”

“What would happen then?” Ssiina asked.

“I believe I could get us passage far to the south, to the island city of Qirzyh near the collapsing human empire. Be it there, across the Steppes of Oryzai, or south of the Worldspine Mountains in the lands of eternal winter, we would find a new home.” She gave us all one last squeeze. “But I do not wish to dwell overmuch on such outcomes. Sister will accept my proposal—just as she will understand the need for my secrecy until now.”

Kyrae and I nodded along. Truthfully, I did want to see the world, but… not like that. I could also go without the “lands of eternal winter” as I had a feeling I would not like winter if my reading was to be believed. Uru Farlight, author of the journal I’d used to learn human imperial, also detested winter.

According to her, it was worse above the water than under it. I remembered the line in part because it was what finally clued me into the fact that she was a merfolk. Who wrote her journal in human imperial—an odd character if ever there was one, as she rarely seemed to adventure in water.

“What about the headwaters of the Greatriver?” Kyrae asked. “And of Ssiina and Issa’s reward locations?”

“I will see to it that we visit them. Besides, there is yet the chance for us to have another year together—the excuse of coming-of-age is enough to warrant a request to sequester at least two of you from prying eyes. Most of those sent to the Spring of All Life are of age—set into their class so there is no worry that the Temple might poach talent.”

“Don’t leave me out!” Ssiina protested.

Phaeliisthia purred. “Always wonderful to have eager students. Tyaniis?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” my sire replied. “Perhaps a delayal of ceremony could be awarded.”

“Thanks, Sire!” Ssiina crossed over me to wrap around Tyaniis.

Our sire stiffened in surprise, then melted, rubbing Ssiina’s hair affectionately. “I do selfishly want some time yet to treat you as a child, daughter mine.”

Ssiina puffed out her cheeks and Tyaniis removed her hand from her hair.

Our hssen-raised sister blinked, then a wide grin broke across her face. “Oh. Okay, fine. Just a little longer.”

Tyaniis ran her fingers through Ssiina’s hair again, then turned to me and Kyrae. “Daughters mine, do be on your best behavior. Once we are meeting with Jii’Hssen Ssyii, you may act familial. Until then, as much as it pains me, you must act as we have planned: skittish and unsure.” Our sire’s smile faded into a solemn look.

“It’s fine,” I slid over and wrapped around both her and Ssiina. “We’re used to the grift.”

“Pfft.” Kyrae jumped up on top of the pile of lamias. “Issa might not be very good at it, but both of us can act when we need to. Bad as our past was, we’ve not come away with nothing learned.”

Our sire’s serious look warmed just a little. “I suppose not. Perspective is a vanishingly rare thing for hssen. That kind of empathy is one reason I fell in love with your mother. And I suppose it is her strength now, lent to me one last time, that will see us through.” Tyaniis wrapped all of us into a hug.

“Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled into Tyaniis’s arm. The few memories I had of her were clearer than before, but they were all distant, dreamlike.

Throughout, however, was an undercurrent of warmth, of love.

“I’m going to circle and land quickly,” Phaeliisthia announced, making all of us look over the side.

Ess’Sylantziis was close now, and I could finally see how truly immense the city was. Slithering from one end to the other would probably take an entire day—maybe longer. The black stone of the Grand Temple shone in the fading sun to one side, and the Emerald Palace gleamed in the light on the other. We aimed to land between them.

I held my breath as the buildings gained definition, showing lamia and elves alike staring up at us in awe or fear. The plaza below, patterned in bright stone, cleared aside from rows of taaniir by the palace gates. Phaeliisthia’s great wings flapped once, and again, and with an immense rush of wind that almost blew my hair out of its braid, we touched down, the last of the chill evaporating from my bones into the hazy evening heat.

I swallowed heavily, ducking under the side of the saddle. Now, for the hard part.