“Issa!” Ssiina hissed. “Manners!”

I tried to reply, but she cut me off. “Swallow first! No, not like that! It’s been how many years and you’ve still not learned?”

Kyrae giggled, and when I looked over at Eiss, she was struggling to hold in laughter. The moment my too-formal sister saw this, she threw up her hands.

“You’re all impossible!”

I swallowed. “Wouldn’t be a problem if the fish weren’t bite-sized.”

Ssiina grabbed my hand. “They are not bite-sized; they’re as long as your forearm.”

I shrugged in reply and grabbed another fried fish with my other hand. “I’ve got a long neck. Besides, we’re all just acolytes here, right? None of the dumb stuff about class and status.”

While Ssiina watched, exasperated, I tossed the fish into my mouth.

“Did you really need to eat eight!?”

Mouth full, I nodded, then held up nine fingers

“You want to eat nine?”

“I think she’s saying she’s already eaten nine,” Kyrae managed to say around a half-full mouth and a snorting laugh.

“We shouldn’t—” Ssiina was cut off by her own stomach growling. “I… suppose we did miss several meals on the trip over. But still!” She daintily placed a fish onto her plate and turned to Eiss who was in the middle of trying to eat a fish my way.

I could’ve hired an artist to capture Ssiina’s face.

“She’s… you’re not really… hssssss,” my sister spluttered.

Eiss swallowed with a smile and clicked her jaw shut. “I’m just having some harmless fun.” She continued, however, ruining my gloating before I’d even gotten started, “But I’m afraid Ssiina’s more right than you are, Issa.”

“Really? I mean I know the river’s smaller here, but these fish really aren’t that—”

“Not that.”

I blinked. “Then—”

“Societal class.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Really?” Kyrae asked. “I know folks here are too scared of elves to see one naked, but we’re going to have to deal with that?”

Eiss laughed and gestured with a fish, seemed to realize it, then set it quickly on her plate. “You’re hssen. Even if we didn’t, you’d still stick out. The fact is, classes still matter, although not quite in the same way. If you’re ssyri’ssen, that’s the top and follows all the normal hierarchy. Hssen would be almost on that level, with ussen below, and everyone else below that.

“It matters for where you’re housed, where you can take meals… sort of, and for the expectations placed on how you dress, act, and perform. That’s about it.”

“I still can eat at the less-fancy places, right?”

“Yes, but you should act like you’re eating at the Emerald Palace.”

I frowned.

“Don’t pout,” Ssiina said with just a little too much happiness.

“I am not pouting.” I didn’t stick a fish in her mouth when she laughed, but I wanted to.

“You mentioned housing,” Kyrae cut in. “We’ll be housed together as hssen, right? Do we have any relatives here?”

Eiss shook her head. “No. Hssen Lassani’s children were to attend, but given that she is Jii’Hssen Regent, they are staying with her at the moment.”

Kyrae furrowed her brow. “So Aunt Ssyii hasn’t woken up yet.”

Eiss shook her head. “At least not as of four days ago. Also…” She bit her lip. “...Nevermind.”

“I know what you were going to say. I won’t call her ‘Aunt’ Ssyii.’”

“I…” Eiss looked down at the table and sighed. “It would be best if you didn’t.”

“Especially me,” Kyrae pressed.

Eiss nodded, head hung. “I, uh…”

“What.”

“The Temple has placed you in a separate accommodation, Hssen Kyrae.”

Ssiina and I stopped fighting over the last fish, and it dropped onto the table with a loud smack. For a second, we were all silent.

“Why?”

Kyrae’s simple question cut the air like a knife, and Eiss looked a little bit stabbed.

“I… disagree with the stated reason,” she said carefully, leaning forward and quickly following up with, “And I believe the Ea’Ssyri agrees; you saw the hurry she was in.”

Kyrae leaned her head against the fingers of one hand. “She wanted the assignment to be changed before we found out.”

Eiss nodded.

“So she knew.”

Eiss nodded again.

“And she didn’t tell us.”

“Sister…” Ssiina started.

“What?” Kyrae snapped.

“Well… I do not mean to play the false gods’ advocate, but would knowing and being unable to do anything not have caused more strife?”

“That shouldn’t matter!” I cut in, meeting Kyrae’s eyes and deflating at the tired resignation I saw in them.

My elf sister closed her eyes slowly, and she looked a bit more determined when she opened them again. “It shouldn’t, but it does. I think I understand better now the position Ea’Ssyri Thelia is in… and her conviction.” She glared at Eiss. “I would not speak ill of the appointed of Jaezotl, of course.”

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“I…” The ussyri’taan trailed off, staring at the last fish on the table. “Of course, Hssen Kyrae. Shall… shall we endeavor to see more of the Spring before I show you where you are staying?”

Kyrae narrowed her eyes, and I copied the look. Ssiina, however, turned traitor, and lifted herself up in front of us.

“That sounds lovely, Eiss. Perhaps we could even see the Spring itself?”

“Yes!” The commander of the temple guard leapt at the proffered truce like a drowning person at a passing boat. “Visitations to the Spring itself must be booked in advance, but I can take you close enough to see it from above!” She rose quickly, uncoiling and moving to head away from our shade-dappled spot outside a small eatery.

Kyrae shot up after her, using one of the very few benefits of legs to get moving from a seated position quickly. “And why must they be booked in advance?”

“To ensure the Spring is not disturbed or damaged by either an overabundance of visitors or any reckless impulses.”

“Reckless impulses?” I asked, waiting for Ssiina to turn to leave so I could grab the last fish. “Don’t you just mean vandals?”

“We would like to think that no such vandals exist within the sanctity of Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir.”

I blinked at that. “Even I can get that subtext.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Eiss blushed—just a little. “Shall we?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Ssiina hissed at me. “Issa!”

“What?”

“Don’t be rude!”

“She…” I took a moment to think. Honestly, Eiss had been really nice to us so far. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

“Oh it’s fine!” Eiss waved it off. “If I shed often I wouldn’t be here. If anything, I should be apologizing to Hssen Kyrae for the… traditional practices of the Spring.”

“I’ll see where we’re housed before we apologize.”

“Oh, well don’t worry, it’s… actually, yes, let’s wait.” She put her hands up in defense. “But the places are right next to each other and quite nice and I’ll snap my jaw shut now. To the Spring!” She pointed with her whole arm and slithered off at a fast pace.

We had to weave through the thinning evening crowd to catch up with her before Eiss remembered to slow down. The path twisted and turned through trees, buildings peeking through behind tunnel-like corridors, entrances sealed by heavy wooden doors. Some had tamer gardens, with open, airy windows and conversation that echoed onto the street.

At one point we moved through a tree-dotted courtyard. Each ancient giant must have been twice the height of the Emerald Palace, and their spans cast the old, patterned stone into shade. It reflected almost like a bronze mirror with how it’d been shined, and at the square’s terminus sat the colonnade front of an immense building.

A ziggurat this was not. It looked both more intricate and far, far older, unlike any style I’d seen before. Depictions of Hse’Aazh wound the columns and trickles of robed ssyri’ssen moved between its massive, open doors.

The building had a name, but I missed it when Eiss said it. All I knew was that it was where Ea’Ssyri Thelia had gone and that it was the most important—and oldest—building at the Spring. If there’s a cellar or catacombs, that might be where we need to go.

I tried to think more about it, but my mind kept slipping away to other things.

Even with the sun turning orange, I didn’t dare feel for the shadows. They were frightened here, cowed and timid. And I couldn’t quite ignore the distant burning sensation prickling down my spine. Some part of me wasn’t welcome here, even amongst the hazy, comfortable chill of early evening.

And it was only by keeping it hidden that I’d be welcome at all… sort’ve. The Ea’Ssyri knew, and Eiss knew at least in part, but that wouldn’t mean a lot in the face of an angry mob.

I tried not to think about it, but not thinking was a lot harder than it used to be. Not that I wished to go back to being a miserable street wretch. Besides, I wasn’t the one with the most up-front problem here—Kyrae was.

I’d taken her hand at some point—Ssiina had the other—and I gave it a reassuring squeeze. Kyrae was too focused to respond.

Before I could figure out a good way to break the silence, Eiss stopped us. We’d entered a small courtyard, and had ascended a winding, wooded trail to reach it. The stones were scale-worn and warm, and coiling and benches were arranged facing the view. We weren’t alone, but the few people here paid us no mind. Amber light lit up under the canopy overhead; vines and curving, ancient trees tumbled down a steep slope to a pond I could barely see.

The surface was dotted with fallen leaves and flower petals, but the water was clear enough to see the rich umber mud of its shallow bottom. Looking at it, my nerves calmed in a moment, but a cold part of me recoiled as if struck.

“Coil wherev—Issa? Are you alright?” Eiss caught me even as Kyrae nearly fell over trying.

“I-I’m fine,” I managed. “Just… wow. That’s it, right?”

“It’s beautiful,” Ssiina hissed breathlessly. “Even up here I can feel the breeze off the water—it’s like the pond at our spot, but… more.”

“Well I like our—” I cut myself off before I could blaspheme. Didn’t know if it counted, didn’t want to find out. “I’d like to see it up close, I mean. Though it is… powerful, even from here.” To think the Hssyri starts from that tiny pond.

Eiss helped me up. “We can stay as long as you like. If need be, I have a spare room, and we could risk the villa and a certain elf’s ire.”

Kyrae stood and put on a tired smile. “Thank you, Eiss. But it’s fine. I’ve been through worse, and if we make something out of it, the dialogue might affect greater change than sweeping it away.”

The utaan’ssyri nodded. “Of course. Shall we stay awhile?”

Ssiina gave Kyrae and me a pleading look; Kyrae sighed and I rolled my eyes.

“Sure. Let’s stay until the sun’s all the way set.”

The courtyard faced west, away from the mountains, and together the three of us watched the sun set over the grove. The whole time I stared down at the distant pond. The shadows near it were completely cut off, and its surface moved gently, probably from an upwelling of water I couldn’t make out.

Disappointing.

But… why? Shouldn’t it be a good thing my powers can’t get close to it? I shivered thinking about how bad it would be were someone like Ezyna or Zaiia to get close to here. For all my mistakes, I was not like them.

I will not fall like Zaiia did.

The resolve did little to help the pit in my stomach.

Scooching closer to Kyrae, I huddled and watched for the stars to peek beyond the darkening sky.

“Thank you for showing our latest guests the Spring, Utaan’Ssyri Eiss.”

I jumped at the voice, pulling Kyrae up with me and nearly landing on her. Without my shadows, I hadn’t—couldn’t have—seen the speaker coming. Following the susurration of scales on stone, I looked for the voice’s source.

She was lania’el, and the gold-brown color of warm tree bark, scales blending into skin almost flawlessly. Her hair was done in a single, long braid with flowers woven into it, and her features were just on the sharp side of genial with piercing golden eyes. She was also dressed in Temple robes—nice ones with golden hems.

“Ussyri Tahaksa,” Eiss greeted while I clambered into a semblance of a formal posture.

Ssiina didn’t laugh at my fumbling, so this person must be serious.

“I can take them from here. You shouldn’t deny yourself rest.”

I hated being talked over, but I kept my mouth shut. Already, I didn’t like her—her half smile reminded me of the false kindness of a grifter. That, and Eiss’s pinched expression.

“Certainly, Ussyri Tahaksa. My apologies—I had assumed your discussion with the Ea’Ssyri would take more of your time.” Eiss bowed, then gestured to my sisters and me. “Hssen Ssiina, Hssen Issa, Hssen Kyrae, this woman leads the Temple complex here at Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir.”

I let slip a hiss when I saw the ussyri frown at Kyrae’s title.

In response, I received a quirked eyebrow. “You must be Issa, then. I have heard you suffered much outside the care of Temple and Palace.”

Forcing my jaw to stay shut was almost as hard as forcing down the hiss that shuddered along my entire length. She wants me to act up—don’t let her win. I hated how powerless I felt without my shadows, and the sheer intensity radiating off the ussyri almost burned.

“My sister and I did, yes. We are eternally grateful to our sire and the Temple for providing aid, succor, and a marvelous home.” My words were forced, but my voice didn’t waver.

Ussyri Tahaksa’s frown disappeared so quickly I wondered if it had ever been there. “You are welcome, young one. Such a home I hope we may grant you here. All of you.” She looked at Kyrae. “The accommodations may not be quite so lavish as you are accustomed to, but we hope you endeavor to appreciate them nonetheless, for the nature of the Spring is more than silk and gilding could ever be.”

Like how your smile thinly covers prejudice. I almost said it. But thinking it would be enough, and I could still squeeze Kyrae’s hand and give her a warm look. Nothing she could do about that, and Ssiina had figured the same. Between us, Kyrae’s stone-faced look softened just a little. If the ussyri was affected by our display of familial affection, she didn’t show it.

“The chill of night shall soon visit this glade. Shall we be off?” Ussyri Tahaksa gestured and turned, and I shot a last look at Eiss as we left the viewpoint.

The utaan’ssyri nodded at me, back straight. But even I who was terrible at reading people couldn’t miss the bright glint in her eye. This will be yet another test, but at least we have an ally.