The market around us buzzed with activity, the hum of anticipation so thick in the air I could almost smell it on my tongue. Our first step had already started: buying food and goods from the locals here.

Really, it reminded me of the best days when Kyrae and I were on our own, the paydays where we had a warm room to come home to and clothes on our backs. Twice already today we’d thwarted pickpockets, and three times we’d had to stop Ssiina from completely blowing our cover. Even now, she slithered too carefully, avoiding the worst spots in the street as if her scales weren’t already going to be filthy.

We’d made our interest in work known—specifically that we wanted to help with the Founding Day preparations—and now we were chasing down leads.

“I think that’s the place!” Ssiina said, pointing above the crowd Kyrae and I were watching.

I followed her finger, eyes moving over familiar buildings, until I landed on a familiar sign. This is Ynna’s shop! The one I’d nearly destroyed when I lost control of my magic all those years ago!

The sign was faded, paint chipping in places, but as we watched, someone left through the door holding a clay bowl of food. I shared a glance with Kyrae as Ssiina slithered closer.

“She might not recognize you,” Kyrae hissed. “Just keep your hood up and keep quiet and you’ll look more ke’lania than lania’el. The only thing she could possibly recognize is your face.”

I leaned forward, fangs clicking down out of anxiety. “Yeah, but this whole thing’s screwed if she does. We’ll have to try somewhere else.”

“We can’t! No one in our ‘position’ would turn down work like this.”

Hissing, I clenched my eyes shut.

Before I could respond, Ssiina called out to us, hand on the door. “Are you two coming?”

Trying to focus on anything other than the encroaching shadows, I nodded. Kyrae placed a hand on my shoulder before I raised myself back up, and I followed her and Ssiina up to the familiar, worn door to Ynna’s shop.

The moment Ssiina pulled it open, the familiar scent of cooking rice and old oil hit me like a wave, and I nearly went limp, leaning on the door for support.

“My goodness, is she alright?”

The familiar voice made me freeze.

“She’s fine,” Kyrae replied.

“Just a dizzy spell!” Ssiina added with far too much enthusiasm.

Ynna. There was so much I wanted to say to her. I wanted to apologize; I wanted to thank her for taking me to a temple; I wanted to tell her how I was a coward and hadn’t gone inside.

And I wanted to tell her how splendid my life was now, to thank her for giving me and Kyrae the best month we’d ever had. To use the wealth and power I now had to fix her sign and bring in more customers.

“We’re here for work!” Ssiina said cheerily.

I kept my gaze firmly on the floor, so I only heard the shuffling of scales on stone as Ynna slithered over. She looked just as a remembered: brownish-green scales, hair tied back, and a genial smile under dark brown eyes.

“If no one else has taken the job, that is,” Kyrae added.

“No one else has, no. Will your friend be alright, though? The work requires endurance.” Ynna slithered closer, and I saw her shift and bend toward my cloaked face.

I need to be confident. “I’ll be fine!” I raised my head before she could see me, looking away quickly. “I’m just hungry—that’s all. The smell in here hit me hard.”

At that Ynna laughed. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, sadly.” She sighed, and I saw her wave us back out of the corner of her eye. “I’m Ynna, by the way. Let’s get some food in all of you and I’ll go over what I need from you three.”

“Oh, we just—”

“Have a hard time taking such charity at face value.” Kyrae said, cutting our hssen-raised sister off before she could say that we’d just eaten.

Ynna laughed. “All too true, sadly. Food’s not exactly scarce, but it’s an open secret the Temple and the Hssen have struggled with the city’s growth and all the refugees coming in from other lands.” She led us into an achingly familiar room and gestured to a low table with well-worn stone coils and a single rickety seat. “But ask anyone here—I run a good place. Or used to at any rate.

“But you didn’t come here to have an old woman dump her problems on you or badmouth those chosen of Jaezotl. Which I am not doing by the way—it’s got to be too much for any mortal. Coil up, sit, and I’ll have something ready shortly.”

"Yes, Y—” I cut myself off just in time and hurried with my head down to be the first one to coil. Without realizing, I took my old spot—the one facing the courtyard. Weeds had overtaken plants, and I couldn’t see if the sundial was there at all any more. Even the walls of the room seemed more… tired.

I swallowed and my stomach knotted. The familiar smell of rice and fish sauce coming from the other room was harsh on my tongue, and I doubted I’d be able to eat anything at all.

“Iss—”

Kyrae elbowed Ssiina and turned her head to me. “Are you really alright?”

“Yep!” I forced a smile. “Might not have too much of an appetite, though.”

That got Ssiina to shoot me a worried look. “Kyrae, what’s—”

“I hope you’re hungry!” Ynna said cheerfully, sweeping into the room with a tray of rice studded with bits of meat and chunks of root vegetable.

Kyrae glanced between Ynna and me, then nodded meaningfully at Ssiina, and our hssen-raised sister’s eyes went wide. She’d heard the story from me before, but it’d been years and the name ‘Ynna’ had no doubt slipped her mind. Now, however, she knew that I was sitting in the shop I’d wrecked only a few years ago.

Truthfully, I did want to help Ynna. But remembering that look of fear on her face… and seeing all the damage I’d caused that lingered even now…

I shoved a bite of fried rice into my mouth to stop the thoughts. Another to stop the shadows. My tongue hurt and my eyes were blurry, and I really didn’t feel well enough to be eating, but I kept shoveling it in.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

***

Kyrae watched her sister forcing down food with a pained look hidden thinly under a strained smile.

“My, she must have really been hungry!” Ynna exclaimed.

Kyrae had only met the woman once before, briefly, but she’d heard enough from Issa to know just how much the accident had affected her. Of all the places…

“Well, you know,” Ssiina started, “It was a long journey from Ess’Siijiil and the last of our money went into a place to stay.”

“Oh you poor dears! I hope what little I can pay you will be enough.”

“It will be!” Kyrae insisted. Ssiina, don’t play us up at being poor—that’ll look bad later! “Really, I’m certain that even just today’s work will put everything right for us.”

Ynna smiled. “I’ll give you girls all the work you can take then. I hope you like rice!”

***

My hands took to the work again with a sort of familiarity. Vague and distant for how short my time here had been, and for the intervening years, I still managed to wash the rice well and quickly.

“How are you so good at this?” Ssiina asked from next to me.

The two of us were curled near the overgrown garden, washing rice ahead of tonight. Kyrae was elsewhere, helping with a less menial task.

“I know we’re helping with decorations next, but you need to rinse until the water comes out clear.”

“Clear!?”

I nodded. “Yeah, like this. I guess it isn’t perfectly clear, but close, see. And you can’t let it soak either, or the rice will get too soft.”

Ssiina huffed and quickly dumped the water out of her bowl, spilling some few grains between her fingers. “I never knew rice was this much work!”

“For the good rice, it is. Honestly, a lot of food’s like this. The fried rat from earlier had to be skinned and gutted and dunked in rice flour. Even the pitahayas Kyrae loves take a little bit of work to get the flesh out.”

“I know that!” Ssiina dunked her bowl back in a little too deep and yanked it out. “I just didn’t know rice was this hard!”

“Sure, Sis.”

Ssiina pouted, so I flicked some water at her. She flicked some back at me, but I watched her pout turn into a fanged smile. “You know, if you washed more and talked less, we could get to decorating faster. Didn’t you say a bit ago that you wanted to paint Ynna’s sign?”

“Same goes for you!” I did start washing again though, setting the cleaned rice into a tray on the table next to us. “We’ll get to it when we can—it’s not a race.”

“Not a race? When did you think like that, Issa?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t—don’t, but Ynna does.”

Of course, the woman in question just had to slither around the corner at that exact moment. “What about me? Oh, good job on the rice so far, if this is all washed.”

“We were just talking about how much fun decorating is going to be.” Ssiina beamed.

Ynna laughed. “You don’t have to hide that washing rice is a pain. That’s why when you get to my position, you can get other people to do it for you. Not that I’m not keeping busy!” She lowered herself and picked up the full rice tray. “Your friend’s a smart one by the by—I’ve got her looking over my budget after how she handled rearranging the seating.

“Anyway, fill up this tray once more and we can start tonight’s preparations.”

Reflexively, I nodded. Ssiina groaned.

I might have ended up doing more than my share of the washing before we rejoined Kyrae in the main room of Ynna’s shop, the screen separating it from the street still closed even as a few customers trickled by the matronly restaurateur.

For Founding Day, icons of Jaezotl mixed with older symbols both lamian and elven, carved from wood or fired from clay were to be hung up on strings of reed or cotton. Beeswax candles, also carved, were stacked and ready for positioning, colored wicks glinting in the dim light.

“You don’t need to keep your hood up inside, dear,” Ynna said as I was reaching for some string.

Immediately, I froze. She was right, but I was worried. Grabbing the string, I took a moment to think while I looped it around a pin sticking from the wall. Anxiety built, and I felt I had no real choice. “Sure, I guess.”

Thankfully, as the hood fell away, revealing longer, cleaner hair than I’d ever had as a kid, I was facing up into the corner of the wall. I dared a glance, back, careful not to gaze through the shadows of the room.

Ynna was facing Kyrae, showing her how to arrange the candles. Like me, Ssiina was raised up on her lower body, working near the ceiling above where Kyrae could reach. I quickly turned back to the corner, and got to work laying out the strands.

Every once in a while, Kyrae would hand me candles to go in the few idols that had holders. Those also had other spots for looping string, to keep them upright in any evening breeze. All the time, I kept myself focused on the little carvings of everything from river trout to Hse’Aazh, trying not to think about that one obsidian idol that started all of this.

At the time, I’d thought them tails, but I now knew them to be tentacles, like that of some great undersea beast, all surrounding a single, central eye like a vortex. The image kept dragging my attention away, and I barely caught the candle, I dropped.

“Careful!” Kyrae hissed.

“Oh, it’s no problem if a few are dropped,” Ynna assured us from the doorway to the kitchen. The smell of fried rice was just starting to filter into the main room. “Do any of you need a break?”

I waved my hands. “Nope! I feel fine!”

At that moment, I realized I was looking straight at Ynna. The old, dark brown-scaled lania’el had aged a little in the scant few years it’d been, the lines on her face just a little deeper.

And they deepened further as she looked at me quizzically for a moment before shaking her head. “Well, if you do need a break, I wouldn’t mind tasters—tonight’s recipe isn’t one I do often.”

“Will do!” I said quickly, turning around to face the wall again before realizing I hadn’t even grabbed the next idol in sequence.

“Did you make these yourself?” Ssiina asked suddenly. Jaezotl favor her! “They’re very pretty.”

Ynna chuckled, and I heard her shift a little. “Oh no, not all of them. A few I think are still from when I had a family.”

Her offhand comment hit me—hard. Is that why the place hasn’t been all fixed up?

I came across a gouge in the wall and my eyes refused to budge.

“Where did you buy the others then? The local market?” Ssiina continued, and I tried to focus on her voice.

“Yes?” Ynna answered quizzically. “Where else would I buy them? Oh! I should get back to the rice before the bottom scorches.”

I heard the rush of scales on stone, and when she’d left I found I could breathe again. Still, my eyes stayed fixed on this one spot.

Near me, Ssiina slid over. “I’m almost done with my half, Sis! I think your talents might lie more with washing rice than decorating.” She hummed and I heard the soft tink of clay on stone as the next piece was strung up. “Sis?”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. A warm hand.

Finally, I blinked and cleared my blurry vision. “Yeah. I’ll—I’ll be okay.”

“Wow, I wonder what caused that!” Ssiina pointed right in the middle of my vision at the gouge in the wall.

The memory flashed again before me: screaming patrons running from lashing shadows.

“Uh, I dunno. Just… thinking about it is all.”

Ssiina’s hand on my shoulder tightened, and she whispered. “Oh… Jaezotl, Issa. I’m sorry—I knew, but I didn’t think this was…”

Me. “Let’s…” I bent down and grabbed a clay scale, the emerald-green paint flaking off it with age. “Let’s just finish this, okay? I can fix this now.”

Ssiina squeezed my shoulder. “We can fix this, Sister.”

I hiccupped.

“Oh, that smells wonderful, Ynna!” Kyrae said loudly.

I almost choked. I hadn’t noticed her come back in.

“It’s not done yet, girls, but this part got a little crispy on the bottom, so I thought you could try some out! Free of charge!”

“Thank you!” Kyrae gushed. “Friends?”

“Coming!” Ssiina said.

“C-coming!” I repeated, wishing I could slide my hood back up as I lowered my upper body back down to resting height and slithered over to try the special fried rice.

Purple. It was purple—more a magenta, really. The result of pitahaya juice, we’d been told. Other chunks of roasted fruit and vegetables were strewn in with a tiny amount of meat.

I didn’t like it.

Ssiina pretended to like it, convincingly.

Kyrae… Kyrae’s eyes went wide from the first bite and she actually finished all of mine. “Can I get the recipe?” she asked our temporary employer once we’d finished.

Ynna looked over from the front screen, one hand ready to throw it open. Behind her, on the table, a giant, shallow metal bowl warmed by stones held the rest of the rice. “This exact concoction is a family recipe, I’m afraid, but I can teach you to make a simpler version with pitahaya.”

Kyrae nodded rapidly. “It’s really… fresh for fried rice! The meat’s hardly more than an accent.”

“Well, it’s a recipe adapted from an elven one, so it has less meat. It’s far cheaper to make in the countryside where fresh fruit is common, but it’s less so here—and less popular, even among the elves—so I only serve it for Founding Day. Plus, it’s easy to burn the juices.” She started pulling the screen open, and the muted sounds of the crowd outside boomed louder. “I’m glad you like it!

“Now, are you three ready to wait some tables?”

I joined my sisters in nodding. Soon, with the crowd around us, Dyni would swoop in and show us three hssen to be more worldly than anyone would assume.