Xanthy traipsed around the temple, looking for a semblance of an armory. If she could steal a bow or a dagger, that should be enough to keep her alive. Or not.

The night wore on. Priestesses dressed in dark robes that looked like a washed-down version of the High Priestess's own whizzed past Xanthy in all directions possible. Some carried bunches of candles, some with buckets half-filled with bubbling water.

All of them had their hoods pulled over their faces that made them look like poachers more than priests and priestesses. No one gave Xanthy as much as a sideways glance as she tackled numerous corridors that led her deeper into the Temple.

Xanthy rounded a corner and spotted a priestess passing by. She carried a fresh pile of linens in her short arms. The priestess bowed her head in greeting and didn't raise it again.

"Could you direct me to the armory?" Xanthy shifted her weight to another foot as she blinked at the bowing priestess. How in the world was she supposed to communicate like this? It's silly.

If possible, the girl's head bowed deeper. "The Temple has no place for a tool of destruction, my lady."

Oh, Queen's breeches. Xanthy scratched the side of her face. "Uh, could you direct me to a...supply room? Do you have that?"

The priestess pursed her lips. Xanthy stared at the priestess. She didn't look to be older than Marin. Why would a child work in the Temple?

"That would be the stockroom, my lady," the priestess's head snapped up. Then, she flinched and soon, the head was ducked. "Straight ahead and turn left at the nearest corner. Second door to the right."

Xanthy gazed at the direction the priestess pointed before turning back to the girl. "Thank you," she said. The girl nodded before dashing off to the opposite direction.

Xanthy clenched her jaw as she traversed the path the priestess showed her. The corridors offered little to no light with the candles in this area either unreplenished or natural light from the moons simply couldn't shine inside this place.

As she went deeper, the walls closed in as if the temple was eating itself from the inside. It made her chest heavy and her throat constrict. Her boots slapped against the stone floor with the sounds echoing across the walls even though she was stepping as lightly as she could.

Left at the nearest corner. Second door to the right. Ah. Here it was.

A bare, wooden door greeted her. She squinted at it. Why wasn't there a knob on this thing? How were people supposed to enter? Looking around her to make sure there was no one around, she pushed against the door. Nothing happened.

She rammed her foot into it. Pain shot up her leg as she recoiled and hissed. Okay, not that way.

Xanthy spent a good deal of her time studying the door. Then, she noticed a slot at the spot where the knob should have been. Was that?

Didn't hurt to try. Xanthy hooked her fingers on the slot and pulled. The door slid to reveal a dark room ahead. Whoa! This was advanced technology. Sliding doors!

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she poked her head in the dark. Slowly, she entered. She left the door open to let light from the corridor seep through. The smell of damp smock and musty wood assaulted her nose. Her breath turned in silent gasps when the air turned thick and humid. How long was this place unused?

Dust was thick in the air. It reminded her of her house in the Disfavoreds. The time when all she thought about was getting June to pay her for her house seemed long ago now. Things had changed faster than Xanthy could appreciate.

Xanthy coughed into her sleeve as dust scratched her throat. Around her were trinkets, gadgets, and some things she wouldn't expect to find in a Temple. Her footsteps brushed against the bare, stone floor as her eyes scanned the room.

The light from the corridor bounced into a looking glass at the end of the room. Xanthy approached with a frown. Splotches of lint decorated the surface from a period of being untended. She ran a hand across the vanity the looking glass came with and her fingers came away with a thick layer of gray dust. Ugh.

Xanthy's eyes were drawn to the hazy reflection of her face. Even in the blurry landscape, she could still make out her pointed ears. Fairy ears. It's...more real than Xanthy liked but it's the truth. She was a fairy. June was a half-blood. Nyxis was a secret prince. What's next, Reeca was a graspel in fairy clothing?

She sighed and tore her attention away from her face. There's no point in ogling when she knew she wouldn't like what she saw. It's not like she hated her face. It's that she looked so ordinary that there's no point in looking at it again and again.

A discarded checkers board caught her eye as she moved inward. The light had only dimmed further. Lebayou immediately flashed into her mind as she picked the board up. She never understood how checkers, or as the old men called it, karavag. All she knew was that it's supposed to feature moving pieces that the Disfavoreds made do with rocks and fruit seeds.

Xanthy smiled at the memory playing in her mind. She would give anything to go back to it again. Having a home and a place to belong really was something. Oh, the peace it gave.

On the far corner, a dushim waved for Xanthy's attention. Breath stuck in her throat as she squinted to confirm what she was seeing. What was a Common instrument doing in the Nobility region?

Still, her feet took her towards the music instrument. It was probably the only thing she could play and she only knew one song. The memory of watching the singers gather around a fire flashed into her mind. Those people have left everything in their homes except for their love of music. They used to gather every other day and they would do nothing but sing and strum their dushim.

Xanthy hummed a short melody she retained from her days of listening. She bent down and her fingers closed around the fretboard. A snort formed at the back of her throat. The day she met June, she wagged a broken fretboard at him.

Her stomach twisted as the thought of what happened between her and June swallowed every pleasant memory she had of him. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. She hefted the dushim and noticed a gaping hole at its bloated hull. That's a shame. She plucked at the strings to find them brittle to the point of snapping. A shame, indeed.

"Enjoying your time?" a voice speared from the door.

Xanthy whirled. Warmth wrapped around her veins as her magic came to life. The voice chuckled. Then, from the dimness, blue wisps of magic curled and sped towards an oilless lamp that Xanthy hadn't noticed.

Blue fire flashed to existence and plunged the room with an ethereal glow. Reeca stepped into the room with her blanket-like butterfly wings trailing behind her. Xanthy watched the varichria stride towards her with long legs. A bow was strung across the varichria's torso and a quiver full of arrows with colorful tails bounced against her thighs. This didn't look good.

Reeca paused at a short distance from Xanthy. With the varichria standing a good number of inches higher than Xanthy, she had to crane her neck to meet Reeca's eyes. "What are you doing here?" Xanthy said.

"The real question is—what are you doing here?" Reeca raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

Xanthy swallowed against the forming lump in her throat. She cast her eyes at the pile of things covered by sheets of cloth. "I'm looking for something to take with me to the Palace to defend myself."

Silence.

Then, Reeca snorted. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry?" Xanthy's eyes snapped back to the varichria.

The bow came off Reeca's frame. She handed it to Xanthy. What—?

"I can't have you running to the Palace with nothing but a dushim," Reeca nodded at the instrument Xanthy had picked up and set down. "Use that bow, instead. And this," she removed the quiver from her belt and shoved it into Xanthy's arms. "Use that, too."

Xanthy sputtered. This was highly unexpected. "Why?" she blurted.

Reeca froze and then sighed. "I...didn't mean what I said back there," she clasped her hands. "Only a fraction of this mess was your fault. And not all of them."

Relief flooded into Xanthy's veins. "So you gave me a weapon to apologize?" she grinned as she hefted her spoil.

"You looked like you wanted to run out of the room and attack the Palace when Vikara told you to stay put," Reeca braced her hips. "I admire that...tenacity."

"I just want to save my friends," Xanthy bit her lip. "I don't know how to use these, though."

Reeca waved her hand. "They're weavings. They respond to magic. You don't need formal training to be able to use them," she gestured at the quiver. "Go on, try it. Think of something you want to hit. Focus on it and then shoot. Your magic and the weavings will carry that on for you."

Xanthy blew a breath. Okay, might was well. With awkward fingers, she strapped the quiver to her waist and drew one arrow. She recalled a memory of seeing some performers mimicking warriors in one of their dramas. One of them was an archer.

She slotted the arrow against the bow's string. Propping the bow to the level of her eyes, she pulled the string taut. The crunch was crisp in her ear. Oh, that's so satisfying.

Xanthy hoped she wasn't doing a wrong pose but she narrowed her eyes at the cloth covering at least a fraction of the things in the room. She imagined an arrow hitting it on a certain spot. She shot.

The arrow went cleanly. In the exact place she thought it to. Wow.

Reeca snapped her fingers and from the cloth, the arrow flew back to her hand in a whoosh. Xanthy's eyes widened as her heart quivered in excitement. This was what varichrias could do? Awesome.

Reeca stuck the arrow back into Xanthy's quiver. Then, she dug around her pockets and produced a pendant. A cloaker?

"Discard that old one," Reeca ordered, pointing at the pebble cloaker Xanthy had been wearing since they've entered the Nobility. The varichria hefted the pendant on her hands. "This one is stronger and could hide a trail like yours more effectively."

Xanthy nodded, mum. Her fingers wrapped around the silver chain as her eyes studied symbol casted with a faint blue sheen. It was a lotus? Some kind of flower? "Thank you," she muttered.

Reeca grunted. "Say that to me again once you get out of the Palace," she shifted her weight to one foot and crossed her arms to her chest. "Be creative out there. Use whatever you can get your hands into. Don't hesitate to play dirty. No one will give a damn if it was between life and death. And most importantly," Reeca tapped a finger into her throat. "Watch your neck."

Xanthy winced. That's specific. Really specific. "I will try," she said. "You wouldn't tell Vikara about this, would you?"

"My lips are sealed," Reeca touched her chest. "Good luck."

Reeca turned to go. The varichria was almost to the door when Xanthy mustered enough courage to open her mouth.

"Reeca?" Xanthy called.

The varichria paused to whip towards Xanthy. "Yeah?"

"Thank you," Xanthy said. "For everything."

A smile played at Reeca's lips. It was the kind of smile that made Xanthy glad she was friends with her. "It's forever my pleasure."

Xanthy watched Reeca's frame stride out of the room. The blue light from the lamp flickered and hissed as it died, plunging the room back into its dim, candlelit ambience.

She stared at the bow gripped within her fist. Its curved shaft was slick and pointed at the tips. Xanthy ran her hand against the tips. Pain shot through her skin, making her yelp. Her blood looked so black in the limited light.

Magic warmed her veins even without her calling it. Slowly, her wound closed up. Her finger looked as good as before.

Xanthy's gut tightened. She raised her gaze back to the looking glass. Her own chestnut brown eyes blinked back at her.

She's ready.

Wait for me, she thought to the Draswists and wished they could hear her. I'm coming.