One
This court has too many windows,Iskra thought to herself as she wiped the glass. With the sun glaring through it, the stubborn smudges never seemed to disappear. It was as if they were trapped here, just like her. Could this be all life had to offer? A dirty rag, sweat trickling down her brows?
Then, the music and cheers roared behind her, a reminder there was more out there to explore. Iskra did not know the reason behind such a celebration, but she longingly dreamed of standing with the crowd, a ribbon in her hand as she danced. Her feet would ache, her breath would become labored, but she would be living. She would befree. Once upon a time, she had the ability to wander without a phantom chain around her throat, but Kryth held her tight now.
“I never said to stop,” Kryth reprimanded as he exited his shop and stood on the small stoop, his brown eyes focused on the crowd.
She considered mouthing back but stopped herself. The one time she yelled at Kryth for pushing her around, she was rewarded with not being let out of her cage for a week. Hertime was already limited, so she refused to let her attitude cut it shorter.
Iskra kept quiet, returning to cleaning the shop’s windows, the same mundane task she did every week for her owner. She had the mark on the right side of her ribs claiming her as his, the curse he’d stamped onto her skin right after he caught her.
Kryth lit his pipe, inhaling a puff. She watched the smoke leave his mouth as he exhaled, white slithering into the air like a dragon in flight.
“That’ll kill you,” Iskra said as she knelt to clean a lower corner. She didn’t dare let her eyes wander to the inside of the shop, where the usually shut opaque curtains were wide open. Beyond Kryth’s apothecary—used as a front to hide his true identity—countless cages hung from the ceiling, and the vacant one caused her body to tighten. A brazen move from Kryth, but perhaps he assumed anyone would be too drunk to even notice the dragons squirming in their cages, desperate for an escape. Iskra couldn’t stomach the sight of the other trapped shifters, knowing one day, they would have a fate just like hers.
"Goddess Slone has shown me I’ll be okay,” Kryth’s voice brought her back to the present, outside in the sun, where her limbs were human.
“Perhaps the Goddess of Sun only shows you what you want to see,” Iskra mumbled.
“What’s that?” he asked, but she didn’t have a chance to respond before they were interrupted by laughing that grew louder with each passing second.
Iskra turned toward the noise, finding two figures bounding toward the shop. One was skipping ahead, the other chasing after them. Both of them wore cloaks made of velvet, one red, the other a deep blue. She imagined they were drenched underneath, with the sun at its peak. Their hoods were up and their heads ducked, so Iskra couldn’t get a look at their faces.Kryth seemed curious as he approached Iskra’s side, taking another puff from his pipe. She swiped at the smoke, gagging at the smell.
The strangers’ identities remained hidden as they got closer. Though that was quickly fixed as one of the figures tripped and fell. At first, Iskra looked for a rock or a crack in the street, but it was Kryth’s foot stretched out instead.
“Lady Esi,” a male voice called out, running after his fallen friend. He bent to cover the woman, but it was too late. Iskra and Kryth saw the woman’s long, black hair, the waves smooth and shiny. Iskra instinctively went to brush her fingers through her own matted auburn tresses, but her digits caught in tangles.
As the woman stood and her profile was revealed, Iskra stopped what she was doing, the blood draining from her face. She could feel Kryth stiffen next to her.
“Stop worrying so much, Bron,” the beautiful woman brushed off his help. She unbuttoned the cloak, slipping it off, and Iskra was assaulted by the scent of clove and orange. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but it’s much too hot for this.”
The woman still had not turned her focus to Iskra and Kryth, but Bron had noticed, his porcelain face ashening to an even lighter tone.
“Lady Esi…” Bron reached out, grabbing the cloak from the ground. “I think we should go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure these are nice strangers.” Esi finally directed her attention to Iskra, and she almost stumbled and fell again. “Oh.”
Iskra and Esi were only arm lengths apart, and it felt like Iskra was looking in a mirror. They had the same amber eyes, the same freckles along their cheeks, the same tan skin. Only the color of their hair separated them, along with the state of their clothes: Iskra’s plain dress was dusty while Esi’s silk gown sheened in the sun.
Esi reached out her hand, as if to touch Iskra, but Kryth yanked Iskra away.
“Who are you?” Kryth’s voice was vicious and cold.
Esi shook her head. The shock must have worn off as her mouth inched toward a mischievous smile. “I think you're the answer to my prayers.”
They huddled in the front room of Kryth’s shop only after he had a chance to shut the curtains.
With only two chairs at a small table in the corner Kryth usually used for appointments with patients, Iskra allowed Esi and Kryth to sit while she and Bron remained standing. Bron seemed uncomfortable as he stationed himself behind Esi. It gave Iskra the impression of a dragon guarding a great treasure, but the truth of their relationship was soon to be revealed, Iskra felt.
Iskra backed toward the wall to give herself space, but, in doing so, she hit her head on a shelf. Glasses rattled, and Iskra jolted forward before one of the vials of powder shattered on the stone floor. Since Kryth had shut the window curtains to avoid prying eyes, it was dark in the room, and just the thought of having to clean shards of glass in here sounded horrifying. Kryth glared at her, and she tightened her lips as she put the vial back in its place.
Clearing his throat, Kryth started, “What exactly may I do for you?”
“Not you,” Esi quipped and pointed at Iskra. “Her.”
“Whatever involves her involves me,” Kryth snapped.
Esi narrowed her eyes, assessing the man before her. “Are you her father?”
