She’d left this place so naive. And while she knew so much more now about the world than when she left, she was more confused than ever with regards to her thoughts on magic, and the goddess. She knew now that naivety of the world did not disappear with age, only the willingness to admit one’s own unknowing. If her magic revealed anything to her, it was that the world was far more complicated than anyone could possibly know, and it was only the truly naive who tried to pretend they understood it.

“This is … bleeding skies, Aurora. How rich are you?”

Aurora turned to find Jinx fixated on a painted and gold-filigreed statue of her mother. It was as tall as the room, high enough that her mother’s outstretched hand towered above their heads. It was her mother, yes, the same skyfire hair and tall build, but if her mother had been well enough to walk beside them, the statue would have dwarfed her too. None of these depictions were about truth; they were about power.

“You forget none of this belongs to me anymore,” Aurora answered simply, then she knelt by the altar of the goddess.

“Is now really the time?” Jinx asked. “To each his own, of course, but we’re not entirely out of danger here.”

The altar had a half-relief carving of the goddess. Her arms were the only thing fully sculpted, and they stretched out, holding a bowl meant to symbolize the day she poured out the tempests upon the earth. Aurora placed her hand flat in the bottom of the bowl, pushing down first. The arms did not budge, but when she placed a second hand in the bowl to push, the arms began to slowly lower until she heard a click, then Aurora pushed forward and the relief carving of the goddess slid back into the wall far enough that there was a gap to crawl past.

Jinx gave a low whistle. “You royals are too rich for your own good. But I must admit to being a fan of all the secret passages. Much better use of the coin than … that.” Jinx waved her hand vaguely in the direction of all the expensive statues and paintings.

Without replying, Aurora crawled past the goddess, and then waited in the dark tunnel for Jinx to do the same. When they were both inside, she pushed the goddess back into her rightful place, and heard a heavy clunk as the secret door closed behind them. In the dark, she rested her hand against the back of the altar and sent up something like a prayer, not to the goddess necessarily, but just outside herself.

Be safe. Please, please be safe.

A faint glow flicked over the stone walls when Jinx dug an eternal ember from a bag at her hip. “You must have had the most amazing childhood,” Jinx whispered, waiting for Aurora to take the lead.