I didn’t sleep long, which I was honestly grateful for—my anxious mind wasn’t really ready to wind down. Shaken awake, I looked up to see Kyrae, the others behind her heading off the ship, Ea’Ssyri Thelia watching over all of us with a stern expression

The lean of the deck reminded me: this thing wasn’t going anywhere.

And so, the plank for disembarking had been put down into the water on the low side. Ssiina looked to be heading down first, the captain anxiously waiting for her tail to go next.

She glanced at me, eyes wide, before the small, scarred lania’el descended.

“Is it okay that the captain knows?” I asked Kyrae as I pulled myself up and uncoiled. “I don’t think she’s with them, but… what if this gets out?”

Kyrae frowned. “Apparently she’s got connections to the Temple, and is used to moving people to and from the Spring discreetly. Our circumstances are different, but we’re not the only ones heading there who need the safety of anonymity. Either way, after some sigilcraft I wish I understood, Ea’Ssyri Thelia cleared her.”

She shook her head. “But I don’t care about that. How are you?”

“Tired,” I smiled weakly. “But we’re alive, yeah?”

“Quickly now,” Ea’Ssyri Thelia hissed. “We do not know if there are others, and I cannot contact the carriage with my magic. We will head to Kya’iin, Zaiza will pull some favors to get us a ship, and we will head north. From here out, we will be traveling without rest as not only have we been compromised, but our new method of travel will be easy to follow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied instinctively. Zaiza, so that’s the captain’s name.

The Ea’Ssyri stopped mid-nod. Kyrae slipped ahead of me and then she fell behind.

“Did you expect pushback?” I asked quietly.

“…I do not know what I expected,” she answered, voice tired. “For what it is worth, I failed in my protection—had I thought to take more time inspecting the crew this could have been avoided. Moreover, I am not such a fool as to deny that you saved your sisters.

“Thank you, Hssen Issa.”

I almost fell off the plank from how fast I stopped. My immediate thought was rejection, a biting retort, or anything else. But one look at the dark water and jungle, murky thanks to the sigil array keeping my eyes normal-looking, and I just didn’t care to be belligerent. “Thank you for saving us in the end, Ssyrin Ea’Ssyri.”

All formality was lost once my scales touched muddy water, and I slithered across, working hard to keep my upper body out of the muck. Ahead, Ssiina and the captain were pulling a mud-soaked Kyrae up onto the bank.

I expected a flashy show of magic from the Ea’Ssyri, but she calmly walked into the water and swam with neat strokes, passing me before nimbly climbing up the plant-choked bank. With one last look at the ruined ship, dark stains on its deck glimmering in the moonlight, I slithered up the bank and joined the rest of the group.

The trip to Kya’iin was muddy and cold; the cursed part of me liked it, probably too much. But I sympathized with my sisters’ shivering all the while. Regardless of comfort, I kept my senses tuned to the darkness around us.

It was eager, almost… disappointed. As far as I could sense, I was the only one it pulled towards, including the captain. Honestly, I didn’t trust her, but I surprised myself by how much I did trust the Ea’Ssyri. Even more so covered in mud and voicing not a single word of complaint. Ssiina was the only one who looked to be holding her tongue, in fact.

And so, damp, mud-covered, and exhausted, we entered into Kya’iin just as the predawn light started to filter through the canopy. The town reminded me of the slums of Ess’Siijiil on the surface with simple buildings of mud brick and thatch up above flood stage and wooden log structures on pilings further out, piles of nets, cages, and fishing baskets strewn underneath.

Like where I’d lived with Kyrae in Ess’Siijiil, it too faced a tributary of the Hssyri. Except here, the water was wider, calm, and relatively free of refuse. I ran a hand down my muddy tunic. Underneath the fresh layer of dirt, the fibers were cleaner, nicer. I was well fed, educated, and Kyrae and I had a loving family even though “home” was uncertain.

So I looked a little deeper at the lively town. The buildings were in good order—they didn’t slump, or lean, and fresh repairs were visible interlaced with old wood.

On top of that, the center of the town, which we passed close to, had nicer buildings and clear streets—in fact they very nearly all were. Some people would be messy, others clean, but there was an air of brightness to this little fishing town that I’d never associate with the humble surroundings. Up above, birds cried, and the shouts of morning preparation mixed with them to create a sort of liveliness the slums could never have.

Peaceful, for lack of a better word, even if we were getting a few stares slithering in unwashed and with two mud-covered elves.

To my surprise, Zaiza took the lead and Ea’Ssyri Thelia kept back once we reached the docks—a few dozen gently bobbing feelers stuck out into the river. A few boats were still preparing, moving nets and people, but many more were gone, a few still visible as they moved downstream toward the most holy of rivers.

“Pilgrims to Qirjaa’iin,” Zaiza said to a brawny lania’el by shouting orders to several groups. “Any takers?”

The woman in question, her skin almost blending with her brown-black scales, looked over us then narrowed her eyes. “What about yours?”

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“Snag upriver,” Zaiza hissed. “Cut it free, but we’ve got a leak. Banked ‘till tomorrow at least.”

At this, the fisherwoman grunted, then turned and shouted, a hand cupped around one side of her mouth. “Pilgrims to the Spring! Anyone wanna make some coin takin’ ‘em? Zaiza’s payin’!”

Until the captain’s name was mentioned, no one more than glanced our way. At her mention, however, we got quite a few takers. Better yet, Zaiza knew how to negotiate, and I found myself liking her a little bit more based on how cynically how she sold us while downplaying her ship’s “delay.” Throughout the whole bargaining process, Ssiina looked on in abject wonder. Despite everything, apparently this still counted towards her fantastical desires to learn more about the common folk.

As long as she was willing to actually learn to negotiate, I couldn’t possibly mind. Though I did think of Sire again, and found my hearts twinging with worry.

Stay safe, please.

In the end, it wasn’t long before we were shuttled onto a single sail, cramped ship that smelled almost sweetly of old fish. The person in charge of this one was an old lania’el man who exchanged barbs good-naturedly with Zaiza.

This time, the hold was for fish only and the deck still had its nets, so we got to stay topside as we pulled away from the floating dock and out onto the river. Ea’Ssyri Thelia kept quiet, but I could see her eyes moving quickly between each of the three-person crew.

More than that, my nature felt her magic acutely as she did surreptitious motions behind her back, out of sight. Almost unnoticeable, tiny, intricate arrays began to follow us, nearly invisible against the gold of the rising sun.

Conversation was limited, the silence only broken by quick shouts between crew or the occasional comment from Zaiza to the old man in charge. I basked in my sisters’ presence, hearts still hurting at how close I’d come to losing them and myself both.

Soon enough, our boat joined the Hssyri, passed the line where the two silts mixed—one rich brown color meeting another—and turned up the massive river. It was noticeably smaller here—narrow enough that I could even see from bank to emerald-green bank, if barely.

We weren’t alone, either. Dozens of other boats hovered near both banks, and many more trawled up and down the middle, including some larger aazh’kaa with their many sails and deeper wakes. We moved to join them. I coiled up in the shadow of the sail next to Kyrae who was picking flaking mud off her tunic, and settled in for the long ride.

***

Morning turned to day turned to late afternoon. The mud on my lower body cracked and fell away, revealing shining scales. Kyrae had a lot less luck, rinsing out clay pail and dousing herself repeatedly. Like me, she kept largely to the shade while Ssiina soaked up the sun, relaxing so quietly that I couldn’t quite tell if she was asleep or awake.

Zaiza and the Ea’Ssyri kept attentive however, a subtle tension never leaving their bodies. As for me, I was finally able to catch some sleep, rocked gently by the swells of the current. Far below, in the dark of the river bottom, my shadows crept out from under logs to play with river dolphins and mud-dwelling fish.

By the time the sun had dipped down once again, and we’d filled ourselves with fresh fish from the river, whole and raw, the morning’s violence had ebbed away into a dream.

Almost.

The presence in void of my dreams, that awesome entity of which I was now part, loomed large. Almost beckoning me. “You were so close,” it seemed to whisper, “why do you cling on so?”

I struggled against it, racing around the void of my dreams to try to get away. But… I was it, even if it was not yet me, and there was nowhere to go. Nowhere until a soft warmth, burning at the edges and rich with the smell of earth and sweat, pulled me away.

Kyrae and I were captains of a ship in this dream, Ssiina the first mate. We traveled from the ruby coral of Sanasiilath across the Northern Current to the black sand of the Wingscale Islands. We reached down south, past the Isle of Nythyr and through the straits toward human lands. And just as we pulled into the dock of a great city I could only partially see, full of black stone towers tumbling into placid blue… I stirred awake.

Wake, sleep, wake, sleep. Get up and move, stay put and don’t. I missed the freedom of the dream voyage already. By Jaezotl, I was sick of being dragged everywhere, of following orders like a beast of burden instead of choosing my own path each day.

Still, the morning I saw was at least some respite: our tiny boat, pulling up anchor as we sailed back out onto the river, looking exactly as it had the day before. Fewer boats today, though.

Mid-way through the morning, one of the crewmembers pulled out a small jute bag with a handful of well-worn bone dice. Zaiza caught me staring, and soon us three sisters were pulled into the game. The Ea’Ssyri, of course, declined with a nod.

“Would it kill you to smile?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“It would not,” she replied with a surprising softness, and I caught a hint of a smile before her face snapped back to a mask of dull seriousness.

The game was liar’s dice, and Ssiina surprised all of us by winning the first round. Her upbringing had few similarities with mine and Kyrae’s before they converged during our adolescence. But lying?

That was one of the few.

We laughed it off and kept going, playing for fish bones and scales and the spirit of the game. At some point, the day had changed to night.

And again, and again. Dice or no, fishing or relaxing, we made our way upriver.

And I hated to say I started to enjoy myself. Sure, the boat was cramped, and we had to be very careful around our company not to let too many things slip, but for once… I didn’t have anything hanging over my head that I needed to be doing. Plenty was up there, dangling, but none of it was something I could do a thing about.

We passed by the city of Zessujaa’iin, largest city and capital of the province our mom was from—though her family lived far up in the mountains to the southeast. The river outside the sprawling on-stilts city was thick with boats of all sizes. After it, we stopped seeing aazh’kaa, and the river started to narrow. Mountains began to fade through the horizon ahead, some tall enough to be white-capped.

Rocks began to dot the river bottom, and the fish changed. The current as well was a little swifter, a little less even, and our games became less frequent as the ship kept moving ever upriver. Eventually, the Hssyri narrowed even more, and at the base of a section of steep rapids lay a city I knew from my lessons.

Qirjaa’iin. Its name had drifted too far from its origin to be definitive, but it loosely meant “outside.” The last bastion of civilization outside the private confines of Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir, the Spring of All Life. The city reminded me a little of Uzh in its atmosphere: peaceful, reverent, and bursting with gardens amidst its buildings of ancient stone. Here in Qirjaa’iin, however, the center of the city rose from the harbor up on towering pillars of rock, topped with bursting tufts of green. Lifts and ramps and bridges intertwined, connecting the city above with the city below.

All told, it was certainly smaller than Uzh, but its majesty gave me an aching reminder of the last city of my childhood, and of Phaeliisthia’s estate with all its warm memories frozen in time.

Upriver, through the mist and thick greenery, I couldn’t see much, but I knew the Hssyri continued on for a while longer yet. From here it would be a steep trail to our destination, one with rocks worn smooth by countless scales.

When my sisters, Ea’Ssyri Thelia, and I disembarked, we gave our goodbyes to Zaiza and the crew. They almost felt like friends, and I really, really hoped whoever was after us wouldn’t target them.

Honestly, I was looking forward to the Spring, if just for the spectacle. Boring lessons, however, I could do without.