Eden took a healthy amount of pride in the way she navigated the streets on the way back to the Lakehouse. The city was large, but the beige-brick streets were narrow and didn’t always run straight. Memorizing as much of the city and as many of the structures as she did hadn’t been easy when she was younger, but now, she could probably navigate them in her sleep.

But she hadn’t learned the streets by walking them. In truth, doing it that way had been far too tedious. Her path was always blocked by barrels, or carts, or tea tables and chairs placed ever-so-conveniently in the alley way. The lanterns that were lit at dusk always hung too low, and there were always so many people. People were not good for Eden to be close to, especially since she had worked hard to keep her identity somewhat concealed.

The red rooftops, however, had always welcomed her graciously – as they did right now. They were deserted, except for the few taller buildings poking up with their overhanging porches. No doubt the homes of the wealthy.

Hopping from one shingled roof to another, Eden kept her pace steady. Roselle was behind her somewhere navigating the irritating alleyways. The Lotus had foolishly challenged her to a race back to their quiet hideout. While Eden did not consider herself competitive, she knew Rosie would lose. The roads below were packed tight with people – the consequence of having a king who abruptly announces his intention to court, marry and share his power with a lady.

Eden took her time; jumping from rooftop to rooftop, swinging down onto porches with potted plants and great views of the sea, and practically flying down stairs. She had always loved stairs, though she was aware that it was strange love – a thrill meant for children with no fear.

She even paused on the ivy-covered woodwork that cast dappled shade over the large tea court. There were a staggering amount of people sitting and chatting and clinking their cups today. Mostly women, she noted, but that wasn’t unusual with the king opening the palace doors and promising one of them better things. There was a lot to discuss.

Briefly she wondered if she should listen in on some unsuspecting gossipers, but a loud, familiar moan cut out across the courtyard, silencing everyone.

Eden glanced towards the noise and frowned.

‘Tide coming in already?’ she thought, though there was no mistaking the breathy hum of the large, metallic pipes that ran under the city. The noise rose in pitch as the tide climbed and the pipes submerged one by one. There were five pipes in total, but Eden had never heard the tide rise above second octave. Their purpose was to serve as a sort of warning for high water, but since unruly weather was rare, the pipes were mostly used as a way to track time.

It was later than anticipated, so instead of listening in on the loose-tongued women below, she continued on her way. With the pipes making noise like someone was blowing air over the mouth of a bottle, hearing them would have been difficult anyway.

The roof of their quaint stone hideout came into view only minutes later, and Eden was grateful. The sun was horrendous under the black cloak, and although she never would have admitted it, she wanted to take it off.

When she hopped onto their roof and peered over the edge, Rosie was surprisingly there, though clearly suffering from taking the race far too seriously.

“Hey,” Eden called down to her.

Leaning heavily on her knees and gasping like a fish out of water, she said, “I did it—I beat you...finally...”

The Loon pushed her dark hood away from her face and started down the detailed, metal staircase that connected the street and roof, running her hands over the red flowers that laced through the bars. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”

“No!” Roselle yelled, jabbing her finger into Eden’s chest when she got close. “You’re not sorry! I won! I won, damn you!”

“Okay, you won.”

“No! Now you’re just saying that!”

A ghost of a smile pulled at Eden’s lips. She waved Rosie’s poking finger away. “You’re hopeless.”

The duo approached the house. It didn’t stand out in any way. It wasn’t meant to, despite the wealth of the man who controlled it. Just like most of the doors in the city, theirs looked as if it was made of knotted driftwood, the stonework bordering it the colour of fine sand. Perhaps the only defining detail were the faded words etched into the stone just above the entryway.

‘The Lakehouse.’

The Lotus entered first without knocking, throwing the door open wide. A boyish growl was their greeting.

“Hey, watch it.”

“You watch it,” Rosie replied, undaunted. Eden followed her in, recognizing the voice. Unfortunately, the voice belonged to more than one person, since she had hit one of the twins.

The two lanky blond boys were in their cloaks and on their way out, but that didn’t stop the one in front from shooting them the evil eye. The other twin trailed after him in much the same way Eden trailed after Rosie, though he wore an expression of faint apology.

“Excuse us...” he muttered, striding out into the beaming sunlight. From the back, she could easily tell the two brothers apart.

“Why do you always have to hit Calamity?” Eden murmured, pressing the door closed behind them and bolting it.

“He didn’t go berserk this time. How am I supposed to tell them apart if he doesn’t?”

“Is that the only way you know how to discern them?” Eden asked.

“Yeah,” she paused. “Isn’t that how everyone does it?”

The Loon shook her head. Rosie threw her hands up and then propped them on her sloping hips. “Okay then, how do you tell them apart?”

“Their hair.”

“Their hair? It looks the same!”

“Calamity’s hair is always untidy near the nape of his neck… like a little whirlpool.”

Rosie stared at her, blinking slowly. “Are you serious? And Calm’s isn’t?”

Eden shrugged. “Always straight and neat from what I’ve seen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Rosie blurted. “I have to literally step on their toes, or call them names to get them react so I can tell them apart.”

The Loon frowned, thoughtful. “I did think your behavior around them was a little dramatic but—”

“You’re the Loon,” Roselle said incredulously, waving her arms. “You notice a few stray hairs at the back of someone’s head but you don’t notice your own partner struggling with names?”

“It doesn’t look like a struggle,” Eden mused, folding her hands into the sleeves of her cloak. “It looks like you enjoy antagonizing them. Who am I to interrupt?”

Roselle opened her mouth to retort, but when Eden lifted an eyebrow in challenge, all the Lotus did was shrug, nod and then laugh.