“Oh Terrisa! How are your mothers? And your sis--oh! I’m sorry, your dear brother.”

Terrisa smiled at the elderly fishmonger. “Oh, they’re all fine, Mrs. Rammelmire. I’ve got your fireshroom order here.” She held up the basket so the short little gnome could see it over the fish stacked on ice on her rolling market stand.

“Wonderful!” the gnome said, her wrinkled brown skin somehow wrinkling even more as she smiled. “You know, my wife and I just love frying up some catfish with those spicy flameshrooms. Nothing better!”

“That’s how we cook our catfish too!” Terrisa said, adjusting her wide-brimmed sunhat.

“Well let me just get you some!” Mrs Rammelmire climbed up onto her stepstool and started wrapping up some catfish fillets in brown paper.

Terrisa thanked Mrs Rammelmire for the fish and took out the gnome’s fireshroom package. “It’s been a pleasure!”

“You take care, dear,” Mrs Rammelmire said.

Terrisa took her leave, enjoying the sun on her bare shoulders as she strolled the Mycoton market. Townsfolk called out their wares and yelled greetings to each other between stalls. The scents of fried and sugary pastries wafted past, mixed with the sweet smell of spring flowers. Bright banners and streamers fluttered in the light breeze, and A-frame signs detailed wares in both words and drawings. Terrisa broke a mint leaf off from a bundle she’d already traded for and rolled it between her fingers before touching it to her tongue, enjoying the cold spice of it. Horax dodged past her, shirtless, and knocked the sunhat off her head as he went. She swiped at him but was too slow.

“I’ll finish my deliveries before you finish yours!” he said, and sprinted to the next stall.

Terrisa picked up her hat and perched it back on her head. “Fuck you!” she said, laughing, and hoofed it to her next destination--a colorful stand with a sign labeled Frell’s Berry Farm.

Horax won the spontaneous contest and shoved his basket of market goods into Terrisa’s hands. “Take these back to Mama! Bye!” And he dashed off again to join some other young men in the flower fields, throwing an ironshroom ball cased in leather between them.

“There you are,” Mama said in her husky voice as Terrisa rejoined her at their market stall. Her hair bounced in a lustrous cloud around her head as she bent to kiss Terrisa’s cheek. Terrisa kissed her back and stowed her and Horax’s baskets behind the stall.

“Horax is off fooling around again,” Terrisa said.

“I think you’re a little old to be tattling,” Mum said as she bent over their portable grill. She had skewers of fireshrooms sizzling over the charcoal heat. Her braids were pulled back with a headwrap that absorbed the sweat on her deep brown brow.

Mama squeezed Terrisa’s shoulders from behind. “You were out fooling around last night while Horax helped us with evening chores, you know.”

Terrisa's face grew hot. “Mama!”

Mama laughed and bent down to blow a raspberry on Terrisa’s cheek. Terrisa shrieked with laughter and dodged away, rubbing her cheek.

“Your Mama,” Mum said. “Says that Horax is having his second childhood.”

Terrisa leaned up against one of the posts holding the awning over their shroom stall. “Second childhood?”

“That’s right,” Mama said. “People like him and me, we spent our childhood years scared and confused, knowing things weren’t right. I didn’t come to terms with my gender until I was even older than you two are now--so I had a time of it. I redid my childhood in my late twenties and into my thirties, all the mistakes, all the childishness--and all the fun.”

Terrisa looked across the market into the field where Horax and the others played. “So...he’s sort of like a five year old boy right now?”

Mama folded her arms across her chest and tapped her chin. “Now, that might be one way to see it. He’s still an adult, same age as you--almost twenty-five. But emotionally, in some small ways...yes, he’s seeing the world as a little boy would, and learning his place in it like a child might.”

Terrisa shooed a fly away from the fireshroom display. “I don’t see why he didn’t tell everyone sooner that he was a boy. You’ve always been open about being transgender, Mama. He must have known you’d both support him.” She looked down at her hands and dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. “And...me too.”

“Oh, honey.” Mama laid her hand on Terrisa’s shoulder. “It doesn’t work like that. Everyone has to come to terms with themselves in their own time. And his time was seventeen.”

“Good morning!” Mum called out, waving a grilled flameshroom skewer at a passing townsperson. “Give yourself a kick with this!” The woman smiled and came closer to speak to Mum.

Terrisa twisted a dreadlock around her finger, staring at Horax as he flung the ironshroom ball to a friend. “Mama,” she said.

“Mmhmm,” Mama said, as she took Horax’s market basket from under the stall and started perusing the produce inside.

“You’ve taught me the ins and outs of the longbow,” Terrisa said.

“Yes I have,” Mama said. “You’re very good. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks…” Terrisa said. “You started teaching me after Horax came out as transgender.”

Mama picked out a wedge of cheese from the basket and lifted it to her flat nose to sniff it. “I suppose it was around that time, wasn’t it.”

Terrisa tugged at her lock and took a deep breath. “Is that because you realized Horax and I are the Deyspring Twins?”

Mama’s hand froze, halfway through putting the cheese back in the basket. “Well now,” she said, her voice low. “We were waiting until your birthday to tell you--”

“I knew it!” Terrisa said triumphantly.

“Ametrine!” Mum hissed.

Mama and Terrisa looked over to see Mum just handing her customer two flameshroom skewers. Mama put the cheese back into the basket and cleared her throat, but said no more.

“Deyspring what?” the customer said, taking the skewers.

“Oh, you know,” Mum said. “Old elvish stories.”

The woman handed Mum the owed coin and went on her way. The stout woman rounded on her wife and daughter.

“Ladies!” she said.

Mama held up her hands. “I know, Opal, I know. You’re right.”

Terrisa looked between her mothers. “Why have you kept this secret from me and Horax?”

“Shhh!” Mum hissed.

Mama took Terrisa’s hand. “Honey, no more. We can’t talk about it in the open like this.”

Terrisa looked around the familiar old Mycoton market. “Mama, we know everyone here. Why all the secrecy?”

Mum put her hands on her hips. “Did you recognize the woman who just bought skewers?”

“No,” Terrisa had to admit.

“We know most of Mycoton,” Mum said. “But we don’t know everyone’s price.”

“Price?” Terrisa said.

“The price they’ll accept,” Mama said quietly. “To sell our secrets to Celesdine.”

Mum and Mama didn’t say a word more to Terrisa about the House of Deyspring or the prophecy of the twins. They sold all their flameshrooms with smiles on their faces, but Terrisa saw the tightness in Mama’s expression and the stiffness in Mum’s posture. They were frightened.

But Terrisa couldn’t be frightened. She was too exhilarated. She must be right--the prophecy of the Deyspring Twins must be about herself and her brother. It was an old story that Mum and Mama had raised them on, ever since they were infants. A brave set of twins who led the royal family back to Celesdine and made it Mythalos Citadel again. The House of Deyspring was an ancient elvish house, advisors to the royal family. But they had disappeared after the Dethroning. Terrisa smiled to herself as she packaged up some flameshrooms for a customer. The Deysprings hadn’t disappeared--they had come to Mycoton and gone into hiding.

Terrisa pushed her sunhat off her forehead and glanced at her mothers. In hiding...but why?

“Sweat hug!”

Slick arms closed around Terrisa’s shoulders, and she realized a second too late that they belonged to her extremely sweaty brother.

“Oh my gods!” she shrieked. “Ew, ew, ew! Let go! You’re disgusting!”

Horax cackled and hugged tighter, lifting her off her feet before dropping her again. Terrisa looked down at her dress.

“You left a sweat mark!” she said. “Ugh!”

“It’ll dry!” Horax said. “You should have come and played ball with us. Your arm is incredible.”

Terrisa took Mum’s grill towel and wiped down her arm. “Thanks, but the sun has already gotten revenge for me. Your scars are sunburned.”

Horax looked down at his chest and gently prodded his fresh scars. “Ow...ow. Ow.”

“Stop touching them, honey,” Mama said. “I told you that you should wear a shirt for a little longer. We’ve got some cream at home, you can put some on when we get back.”

Terrisa grinned. “Also, you were wrong.”

“What?” Horax said.

Terrisa stared into Horax’s eyes and used thought-speech to say, Mum and Mama won’t talk about it out here. Horax rolled his eyes.

The family cleaned up their stall and packed the grill into the handcart to take home. As they made their way back towards their greatshroom home, Terrisa nudged Mum’s shoulder.

“Can we talk about it now?” she asked.

“Hush,” Mum said. “Wait until we’re home.”

Their greatshroom house looked like many others, an enormous old mushroom, petrified millenia ago, and carved centuries ago to house an honest, hardworking Mycoton family. Some of the enormous stem of the shroom had been painted in earthy tones, patterns and symbols from old Elvish art traditions. Terrisa and Horax had helped their mothers with the designs when they were young. The shutters weren’t the delicate designs Sorrel had created for her house, but rather were sturdy oaken shutters to match the thick oaken door leading into the house. Mum stood aside as the rest of the family filed in, then she shut the door while Mama drew the shutters on the two windows on either side of it.

“What’s going on?” Horax asked.

Mama took a jar of cream down from the shelf of herbal remedies. “Sit down, honey,” she said.

Horax and Terrisa took seats at the kitchen table. Mum took off her head wrap, freeing her braids, and blew on the embers of the stove fire, then added some bits of kindling before setting about making tea. Mama dabbed her fingers in the cream and knelt in front of Horax.

“Hold still, honey,” she said, and began gingerly applying the cream to Horax’s sunburned scars. He hissed and rattled his foot against the smooth wooden floor.

“Owww.”

“Should have worn a shirt,” Terrisa admonished.

“Fuck off,” Horax said. “What did you want to tell me?”

Terrisa tossed back her locks. “I was right. We’re the Deyspring Twins.”

Horax grimaced. “Really? Fuck.”

Mum filled up the tea kettle and put it on the stove. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”

“I’m not laughing,” Terrisa said. “But how amazing is it to fulfill a prophecy?”

Mama closed her jar of cream with a loud clatter, nearly dropping it. She stumbled to an empty chair and sat down, bowing her head.

“Mama?” Terrisa and Horax said at the same time, in the same intonation.

Mum put her hand on Mama’s shoulder, and Terrisa realized how tired she looked. Like the life had drained from her face.

“Ametrine,” Mum whispered.

“I never wanted it to be them, Opal,” Mama whispered.

Mum knelt in front of Mama and took both her hands in her own. “I know, Ametrine. I know. Neither did I.”

Mama leaned down and pressed her forehead to Mum’s forehead, and they both closed their eyes.

Terrisa swallowed, her excitement dimming. “We’re really of the House of Deyspring?”

“We really are,” Mum said, sniffling. She rose just enough to plant herself in her chair, still holding Mama’s hands. “You two are descended from the great House of Deyspring--in a long line from Dame Deyspring herself.”

Horax rubbed the back of his head. “I really thought those were just stories. Why are we farmers if we’re famous?”

“Everyone needs to do something to help someone else,” Mama said. “Our way was by farming flameshrooms for the Mycoton market.”

“The market,” Terrisa said. “Why couldn’t we talk about this at the market? Why have you kept our House secret?”

Mum and Mama exchanged a look, then Mum spoke. “Because the late king, King Dorr’s father, ordered the House of Deyspring wiped out fifty years ago. My family was slaughtered and I was one of a few children to escape--and the only Deyspring left until I gave birth to the two of you.”

Terrisa and Horax looked at each other.

Slaughtered? Horax’s mind screamed.

Let them talk! Terrisa screeched back.

“Please listen,” Mama said. “The counsel reluctantly agreed to let your Mum and I come to Mycoton to have you, even knowing that our children might...might…” Her lip wobbled and twin tears spilled out of her brown eyes. “Oh gods…”

“Might what?!” Horax exclaimed. “Why are you so upset about this? The Deyspring Twins are...are heroes! They--we--we’re supposed to save people. You can’t be upset about that!”

Mum sighed and leaned back in her chair. “We’re upset because this means...you two won’t be able to live the peaceful life your Mama and I have lived. You’ll have to lead armies into battle.”

“Far away from us,” Mama said, wiping tears off her cheeks.

“You’ve been training us to do that, though,” Terrisa said.

“We wanted you to be prepared,” Mum said. “And we believe you are. We were going to tell you everything on your birthday in a few days. Twenty-five--finally true adults, according to Elvish tradition.”

Mama sniffled and straightened up. “Now you know. We have gifts for you, you might as well have them now.”

Mum smiled. “Now I am excited about this part. I’ll get them!” She jumped up from her chair and ran up the carved greatshroom steps that spiraled along the wall of the petrified old shroom. The rest of the family heard her clattering around in her and Mama’s room upstairs before she came back, weighed down by several packages--two long and thin, and two bulky ones. She laid them all out on the kitchen table and slid two in front of Terrisa and two in front of Horax. Then she went around behind Mama and laid her chin atop Mama’s cloud of hair.

“Go on,” Mama said. “Open them.”

Terrisa and Horax didn’t wait. They tore unceremoniously into their gifts and tossed the bits of paper aside, revealing the gifts inside.

A sword and ironshroom armor for Horax, and rabbitdeer leather armor and a matching leather quiver of arrows for Terrisa.

Terrisa gasped and picked up her quiver. The intricate, carved detail work along the base and lip depicted vines and sunflowers, dyed deep green and bright yellow, respectively. Terrisa traced her fingers along them, then pulled out an arrow. Ironshroom tips, deep yellow feathers that Mama must have meticulously gathered from the tails of wild chickenquails Terrisa sometimes brought home after a hunt. These were not simple hunting arrows for taking down fowl and beast. These were arrows of war.

Turning to her leather armor, she found sunflowers carved into the collar line too. It was a stiff leather breastplate, and as Terrisa picked it up, she realized there was a leather bracer and matching handguard underneath. She pulled the handguard onto her right hand, slipping each finger into its place and wiggling them around.

“These are beautiful,” Terrisa whispered. She turned her quiver over and saw it was inset with two gemstones--an ametrine and an opal. She stared at them for several moments, then her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. “Mama...Mum…”

Horax touched two gems, inset into his armor--also an ametrine and an opal.

Both twins threw themselves into their mothers’ arms, and all four of them cried together.

The tea kettle interrupted them, singing its merry tune to announce its readiness. Mum wiped Horax’s tears away, then her own, and stood up.

“I think we just need a nice cup of camomile,” she said. “You know Horax, that sword was mine, and my mother’s before me. It was rescued from the smoldering ruins after the massacre that took my family.”

Horax looked at his sword, wide-eyed. “What should I do? What do we do?”

“I think we should carry on with the plan,” Mama said. “And celebrate your birthday as usual in a few days.”

“I think so too,” Mum said. “And the next day, we can all go to Crookhaven and I’ll present you two to the queen.”

Terrisa’s ears perked up. “There’s still a queen?”

“Oh yes,” Mama said. “Descended from the queens who ruled Celesdine, just like your Mum is descended from Dame Deyspring. I’ve missed Benitoite! And her husband, King Mallen.”

“Their children are about your age,” Mum said. “I haven’t seen their eldest since I was pregnant, and they have a daughter about a year younger than you that I’m eager to meet.”

“Can Sorrel come too?” Terrisa asked. “I already talked to her about my suspicions.”

Both Terrisa’s mothers stiffened and looked at each other.

“When did you talk about it?” Mum asked

“At her shroom house,” Terrisa said.

“Did her mother hear you?” Mama asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” Terrisa said. “The door was closed.”

Mama and Mum looked at each other again. “It’s not that we don’t trust dear Yarrow,” Mama said. “But in recent years she’s not all there. She might repeat what she heard to someone while she’s out and about, without realizing the danger.”

Terrisa shook her head. “She didn’t hear us.”

Mum nodded. “Good. I...think it would be all right to have Sorrel come. But who would look after her mother?”

Terrisa’s heart sank, and she looked down at her hands. “Oh...I hadn’t thought of that.”

Mama reached out and took Terrisa’s hand in her own. Her palm was only slightly bigger than Terrisa’s, but her fingers were much longer, and more worn, from years of bow hunting, farm chores, and housework. “Honey. You love Sorrel?”

“Yes,” Terrisa whispered. “With everything I have. I don’t want to be separated from her.”

“But you don’t mind being separated from your mothers,” Mum said dryly.

Terrisa’s face grew hot. “Mum! It’s not like that!”

“Oh, Opal,” Mama chided. “Honey,” she said to Terrisa. “I’ll stay here and look out for Yarrow while the rest of you go to Crookhaven. You know I’ll keep her out of trouble.”

Mum put her hand on Mama’s shoulder. “Thank you, Ametrine. I’ll present them to the king and queen and come home. Should only be about two weeks.”

“You won’t stay with us?” Horax said.

Mum smiled, her eyes radiating a mixture of love and pain. “No, my son. The prophecy is for you and your sister to fulfill. Ametrine and I don’t have a place in this battle.”

“This battle,” Terrisa said. “How are we fighting? We don’t have an army.”

Mama tapped the wide tip of her nose knowingly. “Oho, don’t you honey? There’s a rebellion on, you know.”

Horax crossed his arms over his chest, then winced as the gesture pulled the tight, burned scars on his chest. “Ouch. Why haven’t we heard about this before?”

Mum set steaming cups of water in front of each of them, then began scooping loose leaf camomile into ironshroom-mesh teaballs. As she dunked each teaball into a cup, the aromatic scent of the calming herb wafted around them.

“We always hoped to keep you out of the whole thing,” Mum said. “At least until you were

twenty-five. Then we’d tell you our history and let you decide whether to join the rebellion.”

“But when you came out to us, Horax,” Mama said. “We realized you two no longer had a choice.”

Horax looked down at the family sword on the table and ran his finger along the hilt. “Terrisa was right. That’s when you started training us.”

Both mothers nodded.

Horax sat back in his chair and straightened up. “Well that’s it then. We’re going to be famous warriors!” He grinned. “Men are going to be falling over themselves to get to me.”

Mama sighed. Mum rolled her eyes. Terrisa cuffed Horax’s shoulder. “This is serious!” she said.

“I am very serious about men,” Horax said. “Come on, Terrisa! You’ll have men and women flocking to you.”

“Did you already forget that my girlfriend will be with me?”

Horax shrugged. “Just find a bigger bed.”

Terrisa covered her face with both hands. “Horax!” she shrieked.

“There’s nothing wrong with having many loves,” Mum said. “You may find yourself falling in love with a second or third or fourth person.”

“I definitely do,” Horax said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head with a grin.

“Having threesomes,” Terrisa said. “Is not the same as having relationships with two people.”

“There’s nothing wrong with threesomes either,” Mama said. “Your brother needn’t commit if he doesn’t want to. You two just approach love and sex differently.”

Horax stuck his tongue out at Terrisa. She stuck her tongue out at him in return, but as their eyes met, she sensed a petulant thought from him:

We don’t all meet the right person when we’re seventeen.

Terrisa looked away. When she and Horax were seventeen, her mothers had hired Sorrel as a farm hand. The three were the same age, and Terrisa and Sorrel had gotten along immediately. Their mothers were from outside Mycoton, which was unusual--Mycoton mostly consisted of families who had lived in the same shroom houses for untold generations. Terrisa had soon found that stolen looks in the fireshroom caves became stolen kisses in the storeroom which became shy exploration of each other’s bodies in the dark. At the same time, Horax was coming to terms with his manhood. Terrisa thought back to what Mama had said earlier about Horax’s second childhood, that he needed time to find his place in the world as a man before he could catch up to other people his age. He’d only started bedding any other men about three years ago, long after Terrisa’s first time with Sorrel. Maybe it would take him another few years before he was ready to enter any long-term relationships. Or maybe he never would want to make commitments. Terrisa knew some people simply didn’t, but she couldn’t imagine it, herself. It felt odd to her that her identical twin could be so...different from her.

Horax tried to gulp his tea and gagged. “Hot!”

Mama blew delicately on her own tea. “I can’t put this burn cream inside your mouth, honey. Be more careful.”

Horax picked up the heirloom sword and stood, holding it up to catch the light. An unfamiliar emotion entered his eyes. Terrisa thought it might be rapt devotion, amazement, a look of absolute awe and reverence. She’d never seen him give so much attention to anything.

“What is its name?” he breathed.

Mum sat down in her chair and smiled. “It has been known as Stormcaller for many generations.”

“Stormcaller,” Horax whispered. He ran the flat of the blade along his palm and turned away from the table. His body moved fluidly as he swung the sword, testing its weight and balance easily. He spun, twirling the sword between his fingers as though it was no more than a blade of grass. Dipping and swaying, he slashed the air and danced away from imaginary assailants. Vengir’s blade sang as it cut the air.

Reflected light from the blade and the red stone inset in the pommel played across Terrisa’s face. She looked at her mothers. They had taken hold of one another’s hands and were watching Horax with bittersweet smiles, equal parts sadness and pride shining from their eyes. Terrisa touched the opal and ametrine inset in her quiver. Even once she and Horax were with this Queen Benitoite, she knew her mothers would be with her.

Horax turned and bowed to the three women, then sheathed Stormcaller. “So, does it have storm magic inside it?”

Mum folded her hands in her lap, an uncharacteristically diminutive posture, Terrisa felt, for her butch mother. “I’m afraid I don’t know, Horax.” A sadness played across her deep brown eyes. “My mother would have taught me its secrets, when I was old enough. But she was murdered with so many others when I was only a little thing. Sometimes, when I’ve wielded it, I could sense something deep inside. Some whisper of power that I couldn’t quite make out.” She sat up a little straighter and smiled again. “Perhaps you can rediscover Stormcaller’s magic.”

Horax grinned. “Don’t worry, I will. I’ll probably figure it out before sundown tomor--”

The front door slammed open, and Sorrel stumbled into the house with her ageing mother tucked beneath her arm.

“Miz Opal! Miz Ametrine!” she cried out. “They’re coming!”