Still wearing her frown, Lake-Ellen joined her friends curbside. Glad the Companionship paid for this. Rather pricey. Not that I don’t have the funds, but they’ll run dry if I’m not mindful. For the cost, you’d think the staff would be a little... nicer.

Maybe I should drop a few sprites, let them run around, stinging their precious guests...

She had a number to spare. Maybe not the hundred she threatened to unleash. More like thirty on top of the eight-hundred-plus making up her possessing devil. A handful cohered into demons as well. Half a dozen scampering through the hotel lobby, rushing behind the desk, going where she coerced...

The wretched clerk screaming as she abandoned her post...

Quite the ruckus they’d cause!

While not fatal, the brush from a sprite did sting.

Her amusement faded. Best not. The clerk’ll tell everyone about the mess. Like as not spin the tale, leaving out her childish intransigence at doing her fookin job. That’ll be all High Daughter Sha’Nedya needs right now. More trouble from her Defender.

And graces forbid a constable comes walking by...

She swallowed her chuckle.

Once outside, the five o’clock morning bells greeted them as though laying in wait. Street lamps bright with blue-white sprite light illuminated intersections and glowed above storefronts, most still shuttered—though dimmer sprite light behind curtained windows hinted at activity. Swarms of moths and other nocturnal critters fluttered about each. Shades of orange pushed at the blues clinging to the night’s diminishing claim on the cloudless sky.

Out of habit, she glanced up while opening her split sight, an effort that needed as much time as her thinking to do so.

Her surroundings disappeared, replaced by a deep darkness alive with the shimmers of life’s n-ergy. The shells of her two friends. Pedestrians. Others, most inside the various buildings lining the streets, some on second and third stories. Their pets too, dogs and cats of various sizes. The sprites in sprite lights up and down the walkway, over store fronts, on lamp posts, inside rooms. Candle flames of a chandelier.

Animals as well, the glows of their life n-ergy diminutive but no less vibrant. Birds and dactyls clustered in branches or on porch railings—and there! A rooftop coop. Rats and mice, scurrying. Feral cats, dogs, horses...

Her vision penetrated the gloom past the city blocks where she stood, four and five streets over, life-light twinkling in a dizzying sprawl, areas exacerbated by motion. Despite the sometimes frightening strangeness of it all, the simplicity and limited distance of her sight also brought a sense of comfort, mostly in that she was not alone in the dark.

No Brother-sister-beloved lurking about.

The land’s second devil, possessing the pink rock that threatened to devour her world, often lurked at her dawns. At the crater across the Pommonic, it’d be after nightfall. The hairs on the back of her neck prickling hard gave its presence away. She still couldn’t see it, whether in split sight or true vision, but it knew how to see her. Slap at her. Toss her about.

Only when she visited the pink rock on its distant peninsula through split self, though. So far. As it grew in strength and learned its true abilities, that would change.

The thought left a lingering dread deep within, one that added to her growing anxiety about being in charge.

It knows I’m coming. Hardly kept that a secret. Don’t blame it for wanting to keep an eye on me—if it even has eyes.

Their confrontation, which had to happen sooner rather than harvests down the road, would be... epic.

The final peal’s echoes fading, Lake-Ellen blinked back to normal vision. “That desk clerk really hated me,” she murmured. “Must’ve lost someone close, or her friend did.”

At the sidewalk’s edge, Keridee and Saupher glanced back at her.

Eyebrow arched,  Keridee asked, “You just now noticed?” She bounced on the balls of her feet, adjusting her travel pack. Redolent with baking bread, the ocean’s scent, and those from the fish market a block over, the steady morning breeze teased at her russet strands.

“Hardly anyone around here likes you,” Saupher added. She lowered her pack to the sidewalk cobbles, keeping the strap in hand. “We’re in the Son’s territory—or, well, what used to be the Son’s territory in this city.”

Brow furrowing, Lake-Ellen blinked before looking about. The two- and three-story buildings lining the streets looked no different from any other in the sprawl.

If that’s true then most people here suffered a loss in my victory over the Son or they know someone who did. A lot of friends of friends in this society.

She huffed. “Why’d we pick this hotel, then? And where’s our cab? The Horizon sails on the quarters-past bells.”

“Two reasons,” Keridee said. “For the price, it offers the most luxury. High Daughter Sha’Nedya wanted us to sleep well before we set sail across the vast Pommonic.”

Saupher murmured, “Not that we did a lot of sleeping.” A flush crept across her cheeks.

Lake-Ellen bit down on a guffaw. As members of the Daughter’s Companionship, beds seemed more meant for kisses and cuddles than sleep. Good thing the couches in the suite’s front room allowed for comfortable naps.

A scowl passed across Keridee’s expression—agitation, but not enough to ruffle feathers. Had she not been looking, Lake-Ellen might’ve missed it altogether.

Been seeing that too frequently. Like siblings, they tire of each other.

A feeling she knew all too well, having grown up with a nuisance of a younger sister.

“Second,” Keridee said, tone sharper, “the shops all around are the best with the supplies we were hoping to find, as well as the prices. All rather convenient.” She patted her pack’s strap with her free hand before aiming her gaze at Saupher. “If a bit excessive.”

Well, okay. I can see that. Lake-Ellen nodded to herself. Keridee had bought all the seasonings she was low on—enough for the sail across the Pommonic, anyway. Saupher got her hands on the dice and decks of cards she hoped for. She found wirebooks for journaling, though she paid too much, far as she was concerned. Their shopping excursions also resulted in purchases like clothing and boots fit for lengthy travel a’sea and the travel packs that carried their personal preferences in soaps and perfumes. All funded by the Daughter’s Companionship in recognition of their Defender’s valiant efforts. A splurge they thoroughly enjoyed.

“Hey!” Saupher squared her shoulders. “Dice and cards are all we’ll have to do for the next however long it’ll take to sail to Crough and back. And I bought that many so I have extra to trade along the way. Why did you buy all your spices, anyway? Expect to do a lot of cooking?”

“The galley of a vessel as large as the Horizon is always looking for help. My seasonings are my way in. A crew’s always on the watch for variety.”

“Hmph.”

Lake-Ellen again bit back on her laugh. A child of the docks, a Trous-Jinjer mix, Saupher pretended to know what life a’sea was like—though Lake-Ellen suspected she’d never set foot aboard a proper seafaring ship in her sixteen celebrations of life. Made a convincing case for it, too, with random bits of sea-faring lore.

“Plus,” Saupher added, “and no one will ever confirm this so don’t bother asking, High Daughter Sha’Nedya recommended this fine establishment because of its location. She wanted the streets to know the Daughter’s Defender walks their cobbles and packed dirt, unafraid of their rancor.”

Lake-Ellen fixed her steady gaze on her attending, assigned to her after her tumultuous and revealing first walk through the Daughter’s Pool at the foot of Daz’Drim. That incident, in which Lake-Ellen was ejected from the Pool when she was halfway across, exposed her as the Daughter’s answer to the dangers swirling about the Companionship.

Add to that her green skin and the swath of leaves curling from her back, and no member of the Family except the Daughter could claim her as their champion.

Keridee snorted. “Did you hear that from one of Sha’Nedya’s aides? Their assistants? Or was that gossip from among the temple cleaning staff?”

Saupher frowned. “It’s been muttered by a few folks, but think about it. What better way for High Daughter to celebrate the Daughter’s triumph than to parade the instrument of that right in their faces.” She lifted her chin a finger’s width. “No one would dare challenge our dear Defender. The Daughter smashed the Son and all His foolish followers, thanks to her strength and courage.” She placed a hand on Lake-Ellen’s shoulder.

Lake-Ellen tensed before forcing calm and steady breaths. She relaxed muscles ready to clench her jaw and knot hands into fists.

It’s no fault of hers she believes so strong. Keridee, too, I imagine. They grew up in a society of gods in conflict with each other, especially the four members of the Family.

They can’t know how… ridiculous it is to believe in gods.

She drew a calming breath.

Of course, not that long ago I thought the same of devils…

She thumped Singe’s root to the cobbles. Its reassuring metallic crunk resounded in her chest as well.

“Let’s not forget,” she said, “how Her Defender upturned the Father’s wretched plans as well. In His own temple, no less.”

Her attending squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, yes. That, too. Another complete triumph.”

Lake-Ellen resisted the urge to bat Saupher’s hand away.

During Her complete triumph over the Father, the Daughter manipulated Lake-Ellen into a fight to the death with His champion. Mawk Dampfingers. Her only trusted friend and mentor in this strange, distant, and hostile land.

If Saupher heard the derision in Lake-Ellen’s tone, she chose not to show.

Lake-Ellen bit her tongue on more words. Blight! First the clerk. Now Saupher. Who next?

Keridee’s hand settled on Lake-Ellen’s opposite shoulder. She said nothing, the gesture more than enough.

“That’s why High Daughter Sha’Nedya bid us to spend our final days of preparation at this hotel,” Saupher said, her tone strong with certainty. She squeezed Lake-Ellen’s shoulder a last time before lowering her hand.

After a silence, Lake-Ellen muttered, “Where’s the fookin cab?”

She checked the wide street, filling now with steady horse-drawn and people-powered carts, cabs, buggies, and wagons, some with small lanterns on poles to tell of their presence. Along the walkways, a rising number of pedestrians hurried along, many carrying packages or sacks of cargo. More than a few enjoyed a mug of one steaming brew or another. Some walked dogs in packs of five or six—causing disruption with just about everyone in their path, spilling most into the street.

Like Lake-Ellen and her companions, they wore long-sleeves under vests and cloaks protecting against the season’s morning chill. Earth tones dominated, from ribbons in hair to belts and boots. Splashes of color—a Father’s black here, a Mother’s calming blue there, the bright yellows, silvers, scarlets, and whites of keet and dactyl plumage in hat brims and poking from satchels and purses—drew their fair share of attention.

Hardly any shades of green, those visible seen in small patches beneath covering scarves, vests, high collared coats, and hooded cloaks.

The rising traffic brought a corresponding increase in noise. Horses clopping, wagons clattering, boots stomping and scuffing, dogs panting or woofing at movement in shadow-shrouded alleys. From trees, balconies, and rooftops, keets and dactyls added their melodic chirps, warbles, and trills, and discordant screeches.

The cacophony tempered the growing scents of the nearby fish markets, horse droppings, ocean breeze, and unwashed bodies.

Lake-Ellen glanced west, where a sliver of the Pommonic’s dark blue lay between buildings and masts of the mighty ships at dock—or was that the horizon still purple in dawn’s grip?—then turned her attention east. Though hard to tell, no horse-drawn cab appeared headed to where they stood on the curb.

The frowns and scowls turned her way from too many, both on foot and wagon benches, failed to escape her notice.

Keridee asked, “Are we sure the hotel staff sent the summons? Seems a perfectly petty thing to do, neglecting that right when we need it most. How far a walk would it be?”

Lake-Ellen leaned back, keeping a full pace from the walkway’s edges. Though unlikely to happen with Keridee and Saupher huddled close, a single hard shove from a disgruntled passer-by at just the wrong moment, and no more Daughter’s Defender. Some of those horses were big and moving fast. Likewise, the wagons.

“Too far in the time remaining,” Lake-Ellen answered. “The water taxis that service where the Horizon’s anchored are about a dozen blocks south.” As witnessed in my split-self visits.

“Which is why,” Saupher said, “I sent a summons myself, at yesterday’s two o’clock mid-day bells. Tipped the messenger a full krykin and promised any cabbie accepting the summons a five-krykin tip on top of their usual fee.” With a smile, she plucked a folded five-krykin bill from a vest pocket and offered it to Lake-Ellen. “I trust you have the fee ready?”

This time, Lake-Ellen allowed her smile onto her lips. This is why I have an attending. She patted the vest pocket at her breast. “All three krykin.”

How fast it disappears! Good thing I have my fortune still. Should I grow really desperate, I also have my beautiful ruby amulet, though I’d rather wrap a few healthy pots of Castles or Royals before parting with that.

The amulet’s weight hung in one of her shirt’s inner pockets. Her just-as-precious seedbook filled the other.

Her smile disappeared at the sight of the three older men, faces wrinkled, autumn strands going gray, shoulders stooped with age, scowling from across the street. Each wore a sash of mourning colored the distinct red of the Son’s Discipline—a color that as of three weeks ago held diminished meaning in Jinx society, thanks to her. None wore the dress of a constable.

That’s all we’d need right now...

One of three inched a hand into his open vest.

Two darts appeared in Keridee’s hand, the first ready to throw, the other a quick finger spin away from following. Saupher produced darts as well, one in each hand. They handled them with care, mindful of the paralyzing muscle ice glazing the tips.

While she had her throwing knives within easy reach—eight now, with four in sheaths strapped to each forearm, another reward from the Companionship—Lake-Ellen decided on a more visible and visceral demonstration. She held her arm out, palm down, and ejected a dimmed five-sprite demon from her hand. The bite of its exit hardly registered. Before the pinprick of incandescence hit the cobbles, she brightened it to full size, a shimmer with the height, width, and bulk of a medium-sized dog.

With her mental nudge, it landed on its six long, flat paws. Tentacles waved at the end of a protrusion approximating a nose. Folds that might’ve been ears flapped and straightened. The watery blue-white glow of the five sprites within its cohering shell sloshed as though in a contained splash.

A six-legged guardian, the demon stood tall at the curb’s edge, tentacles and ears focused in the trio’s direction.

A man drawing a cart yelped, edged further into the street, and bolted past. The driver of a wagon rose from his bench, threw her a wide-eyed, furrowed-brow glance, and spurred his horse on. Cries of surprise rose from the pedestrians passing behind Lake-Ellen, the wooden thud of a dropped crate or barrel joining an outcry of curses and the slap of boots from those backing away or skidding to a stop.

In an unexpected break, the flow of street traffic cleared.

Lake-Ellen slammed Singe to the cobbles. The demon at her feet strained against an unseen tether, head and shoulders over the street now. Its tentacles rippled but remained pointed at the men.

“Try something,” Lake-Ellen growled, loud enough her voice carried. Her inner heat from the hotel lobby flared. “I dare you. I beg you.” She leaned forward, free hand fisting, sucking air through clenched teeth. “Make your move.”

The trio froze. One continued to glare, hands fisted. The second swallowed and looked away, cheeks losing color. The third lowered his hand, fingers splayed.

In both directions, traffic on the sidewalk stopped, those nearest the men edging away, those crowding the intersections choosing alternate routes.

An old Jinjer watching from a second-story window ducked out of view, slamming the shutters.

“We’re not afraid of you, Defender,” the third man muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

“You should be,” Lake-Ellen replied. Her demon stepped onto the packed-dirt street. “You should be terrified.”

“Lake, the cab’s approaching,” Keridee murmured.

Confident her friends kept watch, Lake-Ellen shifted her gaze east. Blue and yellow pennants on posts at the vehicle’s front corners identified the cab from the approaching traffic. Behind the pair of horses pulling it along, the cabbie, a middle-aged Jinjer with thinning hair and bushy eyebrows, leaned on his driver’s bench and craned his neck for a better look at what lay ahead. Perhaps concerned about the bright glow along the walkway in front of the hotel where he meant to stop.

Teeth still clenched, Lake-Ellen dimmed the demon to a pinprick in the packed dirt. She crouched and slapped her palm down. A quick coercion drew the incandescence back into her palm. Again, the sting passed without notice.

Coercing. Containing. Ejecting. All lessons she’d learned on the journey to Jinx Shore—the one that cost Mawk, her mentor and friend, his life.

Keridee’s raised arm drew the cab to the walkway where they stood.

“Ne’evs? Summoned a cab, did—” The driver’s eyes bugged as his gaze found Lake-Ellen. “Oh.”

Travel pack in hand, Saupher climbed aboard before the driver could change his mind and speed off. “To the deeper docks, please,” she said, tone friendly.

When he glanced over his shoulder at her, the driver flinched, probably seeing the dart in her hand for the first time. His brows knitted.

Lake-Ellen clambered after her attending. Before she settled on the cushioned back bench, Keridee joined them. Following Saupher’s lead, they lowered their packs to the cab floor, propping them between their shins.

“We’re settled,” Lake-Ellen said. She resisted the urge to thump Singe on the dark wood.

For a moment, the driver held still, bent forward, shoulders hunched. Then he straightened and flicked the reins. “Deeper docks. Right. Yah!”

The cab jerked into motion.

The quarter-past bells chased them down the street.

Saupher kept a hand to her hat. As one, they leaned into the sharp turn two intersections down. Keridee laughed as she pressed against Lake-Ellen.

The driver glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows bent close over narrowed eyes and pursed lips. His muttered, “...worth the krykin. Not a’tall,” floated back.

Lake-Ellen exhaled through her nose. “You don’t have to like me,” she said, loud enough to be heard. “Losing a loved one is... painful. I know.” She thumped Singe.

The driver bent and hunched his shoulders again. He kept a steady pace, easing into the street’s center to avoid turning traffic, slowing only when necessary. The stink of the fish market came and went.

“It was them or us. The pyre, the rhanah protecting Daz’Kran, or our lives.” The vicious little fish in the water surrounding the Daughter’s cash crops island could strip the flesh and muscle from a cow’s bones in mere breaths, creating a boiling red froth. Dozens of the Son’s followers met that fate or the pyre’s flames the morning after their defeat at Daz’Drim. Neither the Son nor the Daughter allowed prisoners.

“I don’t know who you lost,” she added, “but I’m glad it was them and not me or my friends.” Another thump punctuated her words.

The driver’s back rose and fell with his breaths.

The remaining blocks passed in silence.

Lake-Ellen relaxed onto the cushions, letting the breeze cool her sudden anger. This won’t matter in a few bells. None of it. I can keep my temper in check until we’re a’sea.

Hope so, anyway.

She’d been so ready to launch her demon at the trio...

Their driver eased alongside a walkway overlooking a multi-block-sized opening along the waterfront, warehouses behind and ahead. Past streets divided by three sets of wood and stone steps and intersected by long, lazy ramps leading down, lay the Pommonic’s expanse. Massive vessels bobbed on the sedate morning waves, masts swaying side to side, flags and pennants flapping. Smaller vessels—she spotted the familiar sleek hull of a wave-slipper—perched against piers extending out like broad flat fingers. Seafarers—mostly Trous and Jinjers, but dark-skinned Faslers and blonde Kelpris as well—bustled about.

Pallets of cargo hoisted by dockside cranes swung onto or off of awaiting transports. Shouts and laughter carried. Bells clanged. Horses whinnied. Wagon wheels trundles over wooden planks. Ocean gull scraws and dactyls screeches added to the din.

Shadows shrank from the dawn sun’s rising brightness. The sprite lights in the many street lamps dimmed. Wave tops glinted in the day’s nascent shine. Froth splashed off pilings and stone walls.

Saupher climbed down, dragging her pack. Her boots scuffed the walkway’s stone. Lake-Ellen followed, surrendering her pack to her attending before dropping from the cab, mindful of Singe. She stepped from Keridee’s path as she fished the driver’s pay from her pocket.

His scowl deepened as he eyed the krykin. For a moment she braced her arm, expecting him to slap away the folded bills. Then, grumbling under his breath, he plucked his payment from her fingers.

“My appreciations, kind na’am,” she said, “and for what it’s worth, you have my sympathies.”

“Yah!” With a harsh flick of his reins, the driver spurred his horses into motion. The wagon clattered off.

Keridee stood tall, drew a deep breath, and slung her pack again. “We made it.” As she spoke, the half-past morning bells rang out. Bong-brong-brong.

A water taxi approached the open space. An older Trous in the bow waved. Saupher waved back.

“With time to spare,” she added, her tone again expressing smug self-satisfaction. As though she’d prevented the journey’s failure before it even started—which she had. Then she, too, drew a breath. “Lake!”

Lake-Ellen followed where her attending pointed, south along the open space and down a set of steps.

“Graces,” Keridee murmured. “Is that—”

“High Daughter Sha’Nedya herself,” Lake-Ellen finished. The churn in her stomach swirled hard for a breath. “Come to see us off.”

© Copyright 2026 CBrass. All rights reserved.