Hedi sat on the park bench, nibbling the food Selina bought like a sparrow pecking crumbs off a rail.

The park at night was hushed, like a pond after thunder. After the downpour, the slide wore a thin skin of water, dull moon-silver pooling like leafed foil. Now and then a hard wind shoved the swings, and they sighed like a gutted creature in the dark.

Where do we go next? Hedi stared at the sky, her mood a damp cloth before the flame. It felt like old cotton stuffed over her eyes; pitch-black, nothing to see. If it’s an inn... the owner will probably bark us out like wet dogs at the step.

There’s only one inn? Selina asked, her voice soft as dew on grass.

Naghtown’s too small; aside from the pilgrimage rite, almost no one comes, Hedi said, her words drifting like smoke beside a shrine.

Selina stroked Hedi’s head and smoothed her temples like a reed comb on silk. You mean the worship rite, believers circling to praise the deity?

What else—dance like cavefolk around a bonfire, shadows leaping like wolves?

Selina pouted and let out a low mm, a bee’s hum behind petals.

Ah... my tone was gentle, Hedi said, and she rubbed her cheek against Selina’s hand like a cat against a warm table leg. Maybe I’m a little sour inside, like damp tinder; I didn’t mean to snap.

Not that, it’s you answering a question with a question—though you always did, Selina said, her voice tapping like rain on eaves.

I won’t anymore, Hedi said, a flat vow like laying a blade on stone.

Selina wrapped Hedi in her arms, a blanket thrown over a night breeze. It wasn’t your fault the roof got wrecked, she said, the word roof flapping like a torn sail.

We ended up without a place to live, Hedi said, the thought cold as riverwater.

If you got hurt, I’d be the one hurting, Selina said, her breath a small lantern in the wind.

Thinking of the Dark Realm? Hedi asked, the name tasting of iron filings.

You know... so don’t say it, Selina murmured, like drawing a curtain over a window.

Hedi shut her eyes and rested against Selina, listening to the swing’s creak like an old boat on a black lake. The soft night wind carried green scents and the tang of rain, like glass and rust braided. It tugged her back to her original world: a rainy night, alone at the office, overtime humming like a stuck cassette of outdated rock. Her white shirt wrinkled like wilted paper, her eyes sore from the screen like sand under the lid—day after day, the carousel never stopping. With Selina, she rarely opened that sealed box under the bed.

So sleepy, Hedi said, and buried her face in Selina’s chest like a fox in snow, then giggled, bells in a wooden hall. I keep smelling milk.

You! Don’t tease girls! Selina’s protest popped like a startled finch.

I mean milk, where did your mind run? Hedi said, a smile like a hidden flame under ash.

I didn’t drink milk, and I wouldn’t get milk on my clothes— Selina said, tugging at the thought like a snagged thread.

Hedi lifted her head like a diver breaking the surface and rubbed the side of her nose with a finger, the motion a small oar-stroke. Maybe my sense of smell is off, or it’s just been too long without milk.

It... it feels like the second half’s the point, Selina said, words fluttering like pale moths.

It really has been a long time, Hedi said, the admission dropping like a pebble in a well.

Selina seemed to take it wrong; she hooked a finger under her collar and fidgeted like a fish on a line. If you want... but I don’t have milk... you could only s—

Stop, Hedi said, touching a finger to Selina’s lips like laying a leaf on a spring. I’m not. I didn’t. Don’t run wild.

Then what did you mean? Selina asked, eyes like damp stars.

Nothing, Hedi said, her voice a closed box.

What does nothing mean? Selina pressed, a thistle leaning into wind.

Nothing means nothing, Hedi said, her calm a still pond.

Feels like you mean something, and it’s bad, Selina huffed, prickly as a bramble.

Hedi’s gaze drifted after a quick bird that skimmed the night like a struck spark, and she shook her head lazily.

If you really want to drink... Selina blurted, the words popping like a cork.

Don’t fool around in a park; I didn’t mean that, Hedi said, the boundary drawn like chalk.

Really? Selina asked, her voice ringing like a glass tapped by a spoon.

Mm-hmm, Hedi said, shoulders lifting like a small wave. We still need a place to stay; there’s no time for that mess.

You started it! Selina said, her complaint skipping like a stone.

Don’t echo every stray line—hey, that rhymes; how’s that? Hedi said, her grin a crescent moon.

Selina saw the sly curve at Hedi’s lip, a hook behind silk, and she raised both hands. She dove at Hedi’s neat hair like a playful storm, fingers launching a little coup.

Don’t, Hedi said, shaking her head left and right like a willow in wind. Think about where we’ll sleep first.

I don’t know this place; what about your friends? Selina asked, hope thin as smoke.

I never left the Sacred Cathedral; where would friends sprout from? Hedi said, her words dry as straw.

You just said you wouldn’t answer with a question, Selina muttered, then cleared her throat like a sparrow. I mean friends in the Sacred Cathedral.

Hedi thought for a moment, her mind a shuttered room.

Black clouds smeared the park, dull shadows like graphite dust on paper. Streetlamps on all sides jabbed at the sky like bony hands of ugly things crawling up from the earth.

I should’ve told you I don’t like playing with kids my age, Hedi said, staring upward like reading old cracks. Even if I had a friend, when the Priest died... the thread snapped.

Sorry for asking, Selina said, regret falling like ash.

My mood just got a little better, and your question washed it away like cold rain, Hedi said, half a sigh and half a smile.

Mm, Selina answered, a sound like a soft drum.

But it’s fine, Hedi said, the words warm as coals. With you, it’s enough; I could live on memory alone like a squirrel on nuts.

I won’t go anywhere, Selina said, eyes narrowing in a vow, her tone a blade held to the sky.

That’s best, Hedi said, content as a cat in sun.

Really, Selina said, the assurance ringing like nails in wood.

I’m not doubting you; why the rush? Hedi asked, her gaze tracing Selina’s sharp jaw like a finger on a ledge.

Because... my sister said something like that, Selina whispered, the memory a thorn under skin.

Olivia can keep her reason in the Dark Realm—let’s not, Hedi cut in, a hand waving the shadow aside. We’ll sleep in the park tonight.

You’ll catch a cold, Selina said, worry rising like mist.

When I’m sick I burn hot, Hedi said, a laugh like kindling; I’m perfect for hugging as a hand warmer.

Every sickness? Selina asked, doubt like a tilted cup.

Big ones— I never had one, Hedi said, the boast light as chaff.

What about the... erosion in your head? Selina asked, the word hanging like a black thread.

Haven’t heard that word in ages, Hedi said, surprise a quick flare of matchlight.

Selina’s eyes darkened like a cloud sliding over the moon. Just talking, she said, voice lowered like a shade.

Good to bring it up, or I’ll forget; there’s no headache or anything, Hedi said, then fell silent for five heartbeats, pebbles skipping across stillness. We can sleep at the Sacred Cathedral.

Didn’t you say— Selina began, her brow a drawn bow.

It’s huge; you can sleep anywhere, Hedi said, the vastness like a hall of stone.

It won’t keep you warm, Selina said, doubt clinging like damp wool.

We won’t be outside, Hedi said, a secret tucked like a key in sleeve. I know a hidden passage.

The street ran long and thin, a ribbon laid straight. Trees lined it, nameless and bare, their branches cradling a few white birds like scraps of paper. Houses stood in tight rows, and one well-made tavern stood out like a lantern in fog. Farther on, a long bridge arched over the river, and a wall of wild grass trailed like a green curtain. Cross that, and they reached the outer gate of the Sacred Cathedral, where a nun walked toward them, her habit rustling like moth wings.

You two... ran into trouble? the nun asked, each word dropping like slow beads of water.

Everything went smooth, Hedi said, the road behind her as slick as wet stone.

Where did the one picking you up go? the nun asked, the question limping like a lame dog.

Who? Hedi asked, her tone a flicked pebble.

Using magic without leave... ill nature... must be purified by the Sacred Cathedral, the nun said, phrases clicking like a stiff rosary.

You’re not making sense; what do you mean? Hedi said, her patience fraying like twine.

I get it! Selina shot up her hand like raising a banner, catching both sets of eyes. Your use of magic, in the Cathedral’s view, needs holy purification!

The nun nodded slowly, a reed bowing to wind, and Hedi heard it as a long restatement that went nowhere.

Where is the one to take you in? the nun continued, her voice dragging like a net. She should go to the police station—

Hedi felt a tight, speechless choke, like a pillow pressed to the mouth, and cut in. My actions troubled Naghtown, so they sent someone to bring me into the Sacred Cathedral to undergo some kind of “purification.” And the Holy Maiden is treated as the deity’s agent on earth. Only when I’m properly placed in the Sacred Cathedral will the townsfolk truly settle, right?

The nun nodded again and stepped aside, opening a path like a door swinging. Please, please.

We don’t have to sleep outdoors! Selina’s joy bubbled like spring water as she looked at Hedi.

I never said outdoors, but walking in openly feels good, Hedi said, relief a warm breath.

About purification— you stayed in the Sacred Cathedral, you know the process, right? Will it hurt? Selina asked, worry nibbling like mice.

Back then there was no such purification, Hedi said, the past a clean slate.

New rules? They can still set them— Selina blinked, surprise blooming like a sudden flower.

Given the Holy Maiden’s clout, it can only be Hedi Melvina, Hedi said, cutting Selina a sidelong glance like a cat showing a hidden claw. Which means I purify myself.