"Danger is better at seeking us than we are at seeking it."

—Uru Farlight

From the moment we returned to Phaeliisthia’s estate, the lessons resumed. More intensely than before, my sisters and I threw ourselves into studying and training. The meeting with the Jii’Hssen, our aunt, and the knowledge that others were conspiring against us lent a sense of urgency that had been missing the prior year. So too were we older, although we still acted out the final days of our childhood during off days in our secret glade.

Weeks flew by into months, and the dry season turned again to rains. And now that too was almost over.

Phaeliisthia had kept the worst of those who conspired against us away, though Ussen Anqi Ziilant had stopped by again, and several others had been dubiously “entertained.” Those times, Phaeliisthia had taken no chances about hiding us away and I dared not eavesdrop, even if my own control had grown significantly. Kyrae and Ssiina too were becoming rather accomplished sigilists. All of us were trained in combat as well, with Phaeliisthia’s training illusions sometimes opting to ambush us on off days—or in bed.

Along with whatever dark conspiracy Ussen Anqi was part of, others still came to ask after “Phaeliisthia’s students” like we were some sort of imported fruit. Like the others, they left with nothing more than whatever wounds our tutor’s tongue inflicted upon their pride.

Unfortunately, all this attention meant we’d been stuck on her island estate. The view over the waterfall out over the endless treetops was something my sister and I cherished. In the past, I’d rail against being caged like this, but the cage was a lavish one, and the key was held by people I trusted.

People I trusted.

I shook my idle thoughts away, and stared at the dirt and rock in front of me—thinking like this wasn’t my strong suit. It was hard to believe my sisters and I had ever fit together in this small hollow. Our entire glade seemed smaller these days. Sure, Kyrae could still get in there and peer out through the roots, but elves didn’t grow the same way lamia did. All Ssiina and I could really fit in there were our elf-like upper bodies and a small measure of our scaled lowers. In a way, I missed being small. It was so much easier to go unnoticed when I was small.

Now though? I didn’t want to go unnoticed—most of the time. And I also managed to dodge Tyaniis’s prodigious size. If, when honestly, I shucked off my veneer as hssen and roamed as ssen’iir through the streets of some city, I could pass for ke’lania if I were careful.

Thankfully the rest of me had caught up with my chest’s early growth spurt, leaving me with a more balanced figure. Truthfully, I loved it. Ra’zhii or no, no one would mistake me for a boy.

That Ssiina had grown to almost match me was a point of pride for her that I empathized with: after a long life of uncertainty and anxiety about what I was, I wasn’t about to knock my sister for being proud. Unfortunately, she was also slightly smaller than I was, and constantly called herself our “big” sister because she was the eldest.

I didn’t mind, but it was fun pretending that I did just to get a rise out of her.

In that same way, Kyrae always called Ssiina “oldest” or “elder,” the latter of which would send our prim and proper sister into sputtering fits. Out of all of us, Kyrae had probably changed the most—at least around us sisters.

The shy, intelligent girl I’d known had turned into a bold, intelligent girl. Kyrae spoke her mind and wasn’t afraid to—but apparently she “knew when to hold her tongue” or something. Herbs and magic had ensured the last of her growth had gone exactly where it was needed.

Her figure was undeniably feminine, and apparently thoroughly female, if what she had told me was true. She’d told me more about elf sexual anatomy, which was quite different and a lot more external than lamian anatomy, when I’d asked. Truthfully, I’d not remembered much, but it’d take an idiot to think she wasn’t happy.

She wasn’t the only one though.

We all were. Even with everything hanging over our heads: Ssiina’s coming of age where Kyrae and I would be (re)introduced, our attendance and secret mission at the Spring of All Life, and even the Tuo’Antzin tomorrow. The festival marked the ending of the rains and the beginning of the dry season, although the sun had arrived in force the week prior.

Today was officially the last day of the rainy season, and I was excited for tomorrow.

“Why can’t we disguise ourselves tomorrow?” Ssiina asked, lounging half in the water. “I even know a few spells that will alter mine and Issa’s appearances!” She flicked her fingers through the air and her hair changed color to a pale green.

“Oh, and I suppose I’ll just wear a hooded cloak?” Kyrae teased.

“You know what I mean!” Ssiina flicked the tip of her tail in the water irritably. “Issa! Help me out here! I’m not—well, I don’t…”

Midway back from peeking into our old alcove, I stopped to giggle.

Before I could respond, Kyrae punched Ssiina lightly in the shoulder. Our hssen-raised sister looked down at where she’d been hit for a moment as if trying to decipher the gesture’s meaning.

“That means she knows what you meant earlier and is fine with it,” I said, slithering between them and reveling in the warmth that late morning had brought to the pebbled beach by the pond.

“I know that!” Ssiina snapped, clearly lying.

“Well I don’t know what sort of super-secret subtext I missed.” I stretched out languidly. As I was now, I had to be nearly half the pond’s width in length. The narrow part, thankfully.

“Ssiina was worried that what she’d said implied that I didn’t need a disguise because I’m ‘only an elf.’” Kyrae gestured with her hands for the last few words. “I know that’s not it though—it’s because you two are kelaniel, and Issa especially is noticeable.”

“Hey! I’m noticeable too!” Ssiina hissed.

Kyrae and I shared a laugh, which earned me a wave of water that Ssiina splashed up and over me.

“Ssiina!”

“Hssss!”

“Okay, fine, you’re basically the same size as me!” Why couldn’t I be the smaller one? Maybe she’ll catch up some day.

“Basically the same size, who?” Ssiina demanded.

“Ssiina,” Kyrae groaned. “Not this again.”

I stifled another fit of giggles and looked up through the canopy high above. The sun was just beyond the edge of the little hole above our pond. Hopefully I’d have some time with it straight overhead before I had to go meet Phael for my lesson—my last lesson. At least, for now.

“You’re basically the same size as me…” I glanced at Kyrae who gave me a “don’t you dare” look. “…eldest sister.”

Ssiina hissed, even as shadows gathered around me. To my surprise she didn’t lunge, and instead heaved a long sigh. “You’re right, I suppose. Especially with my coming-of-age in only a few short weeks.”

My gathering shadows fell apart, sliding back under pebbles and into the shaded side of the pond. “Oh.”

Kyrae winced and looked out over the treetops, past the waterfall.

“I don’t mean to be awkward,” Ssiina continued. “It’s just, well, everything. I guess I’m only just now realizing that the hard part’s what’s coming up—for me, anyway.”

“It’s not like it’s not hard for us, too!” I pulled my kelaniel sister into a hug. “All our experience being hssen comes from a single meeting with Aunt Ssyii and a bunch of lessons with Phaeliisthia.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Kyrae stepped onto my lower body and laid down between us, her arms over my tail and legs over Ssiina’s. “I feel like our tutor’s scarier than most hssen and ussen will be.”

Ssiina shook her head. “We know in the end where her allegiance lies. Sure, she might be scarier in the moment, but she can’t really give us that fear of the unknown. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I’ll try.”

“Like they’ll sell you to the highest bidder? No allegiance except power?” I guessed.

“No, that’s not quite it.” Ssiina shook her head and pulled away. “It’s a bit like different families, if that helps?”

“Maybe? Not really?” I answered. “You and Sire are the only family we’ve really had, and I don’t need to find out what it’s like otherwise.”

“Wait,” Kyrae said. “I think I get what she means. You’d kill someone threatening to kill either of us, right, Issa?”

I nodded. “Yeah, for sure.”

“So it’s like that. They’re the same for their families.”

Ssiina clapped. “Closer! It’s more like a set of rules, part of which is family, part of which is the Empire, part of which is Jaezotl, and part of which is greed.”

I hissed. “Greed’s the biggest part for some I’d bet.”

“Well, yeah, but you won’t know what is what, is my point. There’s more to lose for ussen and hssen, and they have a lot of pride and their own set of values? Sorry, I’m not great at this.”

“You’re trying and that’s what matters!”

“Don’t patronize me, Issa.”

I hung my head. “Sorry.”

Ssiina waved my apology off. “It’s fine. All this stuff’s probably going to come up tomorrow. I’d be it’s why Phaeliisthia is having us go as we are—although you two will be as-of-yet her students and nothing more as per the plan.”

Kyrae furrowed her brow and shifted against my scales. “Do you think someone will try something during Tuo’Antzin tomorrow? Ussen Anqi maybe?”

“Doesn’t Phaeliisthia pretty much control the city, though?” I asked.

“Not quite, Issa.” Ssiina answered. “You should know this!”

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. “Well she guards Uzh and she’s the strongest! But I guess it’s the Temple then? But that’s still not ussen or hssen.”

“Right.” Ssiina nodded. “See, you can remember lessons if you try!”

I grumbled.

“Maybe someone from the Temple will try something? Or maybe someone is going through the Temple?” Kyrae tilted her head at Ssiina.

“I don’t know! Your guess is as good as mine, but I think we can agree that someone is going to try something.”

“And then we show off all the skills Phaeliisthia’s been teaching us and foil their plan!” I finished.

“That seems… dangerous and risky,” Kyrae said slowly. “So you’re probably right. It sounds like one of Phaeliisthia’s plans. Actually, it sounds like one of your plans, Issa.”

Suddenly, I faced two pairs of curious eyes, and I hissed. “I don’t know any more than you two do! All my secret meetings with Phaeliisthia are to practice my shadow magic and nothing more.”

“Think she’ll tell you today?” Kyrae asked.

I opened my mouth to deny the accusation then closed it again. “…Maybe.”

“Don’t be late then!” Kyrae replied, rolling off the two of us to stand and stretch. “And let us know what she tells you.”

“What if she tells me not to?”

Ssiina’s wide smile faltered. “I-in that case, don’t tell us, Issa. As the… eldest sister, I should be responsible.”

“Thanks for not putting me on the spot!” I rolled back over and coiled up onto the warm stones. “Now let me have some time to dry off and soak in the warm sun.”

***

Phaeliisthia walked ahead of me toward the cavern’s mouth, and I wondered for a moment why she never met me inside, and told me not to go inside alone. Was it really just the fragility of the moonflowers or was there something else?

I didn’t think too hard about it.

Instead, I was working on trying to wrap my aching head around not only the human language, but also the elven and merfolk languages. The latter was the worst, as I couldn’t really even speak the proper language—just the shorthand landspeak that was a creole of elvish and who-knows-what-else.

Phaeliisthia had insisted we all learn at least elvish, because there was a chance that whatever we find at the Spring of All Life might be written in one of those languages. She also taught me to recognize the language of the girtabshal who lived past the Sekalln Mountains to the southwest, and I was eternally thankful that I didn’t have to memorize their own overly-complex glyphs. Apparently, girtabshal were to scorpions what us lamia were to snakes, and I was both intrigued and a little scared at the prospect of one day meeting one.

Uru’s journal had given me what I hoped was fluency in human imperial, as well as a few choice merfolk swears. The swears were written in human imperial letters, of course—the merfolk language was also largely spoken only.

“Thinking about tomorrow?” Phaeliisthia asked as we ducked inside and headed for the passage to the cavern proper.

“Yeah—hss, yes,” I corrected myself hastily to be more formal.

Unusually, Phaeliisthia didn’t comment on my slip-up. “While I will say to enjoy yourselves, I will also ask of you: stay alert. While you will not be entering the festival to fanfare, I will also not be hiding that you are my students. There will be questions, and even in my city there are still those who would wish you harm.”

“Do you have any particular people or groups in mind?”

“Some,” Phaeliisthia replied with surprising honesty.

“Could you tell me?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

“Ussen Anqi is probably too well-informed to try anything that could possibly be traced back to her. Likewise with the other decentralists amongst the ussen. Expect to be watched closely, and judged harshly; they will take anything they can use against you. The Temple is likewise going to take an interest, but I do not know how direct. My assumption is that they will do little more than observe—perhaps approach you with a few questions I hope you to be capable of answering.

“Lastly, the hssen will be watching you. You will meet the other two branches of the family during Ssiina’s coming of age, and they will not come here in-person. Not yet, anyway—Jii’Hssen Ssyii has worked very hard to ensure their attention is elsewhere.

“Does that sate your curiosity?”

I nodded numbly, trying desperately to commit to memory all that my tutor had said. As I chewed on Phaeliisthia’s words, we entered the cavern. The moonflowers were closed, massive buds waiting to open until after we had left. Part of me wished to see them before leaving.

“Today’s lesson will be a simple one: an exercise and review, and a final measure of your control and power.”

“You’re not going to have illusions attack me?”

“Not here,” Phaeliisthia replied simply.

I followed her down to the clearing by the pond, my tail tracing now-familiar grooves in the fitted stone. The axolotl swam over as if to greet us, and the serene glow of the cavern eased my hearts.

“Tomorrow is tomorrow. Enjoy today.” I realized I’d whispered the words as I coiled up to begin.

Phaeliisthia arched an eyebrow at me.

For a moment, I was silent. Why do those words seem familiar? I remembered someone large and warm on a chill evening. She’d said those words to me.

Hinssa. Mother.

“Mom…” I scrunched my eyes against the tears, but they would not be stopped.

As I cried, my lesson forgotten, I felt a pair of footsteps move slowly to my side. Knees fell alongside me, and a pair of warm arms embraced me from the side. I recognized Phaeliisthia’s talons on the ends of her slender fingers.

She’s warm too.

My tutor said nothing; she merely held me. Eventually, when my tears slowed, and I drew a deep breath, she rose, gliding silently over to the bench. When she sat down, she held her face angled away from mine, fixated on the largest bloom, one that hung near the middle of the pond, right by where the massive crystal dripped its water down below.

I stared at her, reaching my arms up to feel where hers had been. Did she really?

Phaeliisthia turned back to me, her face unreadable as always. “Shall we begin, Issa?”

I gulped and nodded.

For the next several hours, we worked through every aspect of my magic, from coverings to tendrils, incorporeal to nearly solid. The last task before a display of power was to teleport. Relaxed, I held my focus, tearing power away from the source that had cursed me so, gliding in under its perception.

The last time it had noticed me had been three months prior, and Kyrae had managed to pull me back on her own. Here with Phaeliisthia in this near-sacred cavern, I felt confident and aware. Well-controlled shadows pulled around me, and I fell through a void as cold as the glacier that fed the Greatriver.

I was there for but a moment, and by the time the presence stirred, I was gone again, now coiled back in the brush above the pond. I’d landed where I wanted to—away from any fragile moonflower blooms. Phaeliisthia had told me they were perennial blooms, and took decades to open for the first time.

Damaging one would be a terrible mistake, and that she let me try this at all in her sanctum spoke volumes of Phaeliisthia’s trust in me. I didn’t fully understand why she had that trust in me—especially over Kyrae—but she did and I wouldn’t violate it.

She held me earlier. I tried not to think about it. Phaeliisthia certainly didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it either. Without reacting any more than with a turn of her head, the serpent dragon looked to where I had gone and watched me slither back to where I had left from.

“What of the presence?” she asked.

“Hardly a disturbance.”

Phaeliisthia frowned. “It will have to do. Only use that technique in situations of dire danger or importance. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Phaeliisthia.”

“Good. Now, a test of your power. Stop immediately if the presence stirs.”

I nodded and began. First, I remembered that day I pulled the first bit of shadow away to call my own, and how it burned away in the faux-light of the cavern. Slowly, I drew upon that feeling, pulling tendrils and inky masses of shadows from around the cavern into the light. It burned, but I held steady, raising myself up on a cold, squishy mass of shadow many times larger than myself.

Tendrils branched off the main mass, and I moved them carefully, like feelers out to gather the little bits I missed. I didn’t really pull the shadows away—what I summoned was from the place the presence dwelled. But my mind worked better thinking in simpler terms.

I felt the axolotl in the pond wondering at the shifting brightness of their abode, and gazing up at the mass looming out of the water. If they were afraid, I couldn’t know.

Phaeliisthia, likewise, did not react beyond the movement of her eyes as she observed closely, her hands ready to cast at a moment’s notice.

Fatigue set in, and before I could see if I was at my limit, I felt a weight and pressure fall upon me as the cold of my shadows seemingly doubled. Immediately, I dissipated the spell, sending the bigger shadows back to their homes, and the smaller ones to burn in the pale blue light of the cavern.

Mercifully, the pressure lifted, albeit slowly, and I felt the warmth of Phaeliisthia’s magic on my scales.

“S-so,” I asked through chattering teeth and aching fangs, “how’d I do?”

“Adequate. Perhaps even well.” Phaeliisthia gave a half smile. “Would that we knew more about the nature of your curse, or had another decade to train you. Alas, the end of your time here draws close.”

I nodded solemnly. “I’ll miss you, Phaeliisthia.”

For a moment, Phaeliisthia’s face registered shock, and then it was gone. “Enjoy the rest of today, Issa. Tomorrow during Tuo’Antzin will be a test even I do not know the answers to.”