Xanadu walked along the short, partially overgrown pathway that led to her house. While it once might have been a pretty purple, the house was now a faded lavender color. The paint was peeling, the door was worn but free of splinters, and the doorknob was slightly tarnished. A few sad-looking bushes grew along the front. She could easily have fixed it up, but she preferred it to look as if it was occupied by someone who meant well, but did not have the means to maintain it properly. Perhaps one day, when humans were allowed to own property, she would buy it and restore it to its former glory.

Opening the front door, she moved through a small, shabby foyer into an equally shabby sitting room, that, although immaculate, had seen better days. A couch and chair with faded upholstery sat in the middle of the room, flanking a small table containing a single lamp, a half-finished embroidery project, and a pair of glasses. There were bookshelves against the wall, but only a few books took up residence there. The rest of the space was taken up by various trinkets that Xanadu hoped gave the room a homey feel. A worn rug took up most of the space on the old wooden floor. Although it looked as if it was usually occupied, it was only used to entertain visitors that the dancer did not trust. Those that she did trust were allowed past the door set in the back wall.

Walking through that door was like walking into an entirely different world. The room she stood in now was her main living area. The floors were highly polished dark hardwood. A white square rug lay in the center of the room, showcasing furniture that was made from fine mahogany. The couches and chairs were upholstered in thick white brocade shot through with golden threads. Purple velvet throws were artfully draped over the back of the two couches, which also contained red silk pillows in each corner. A low mahogany table had been placed in front of the seating, which faced a fireplace with a carved mahogany mantel. A staircase with a white runner and mahogany banister led to the second floor. Two pedestals containing matching sculptures of stylized cats with wide jeweled collars around their necks stood on either side of the staircase.

A piano that had never been used resided in the corner. When Xanadu had first moved in four years ago, she'd thought the room just called for a piano and so she had bought one, even though she didn't play. She had always meant to seek out an instructor, but had never stayed in Vienda long enough to see that plan through. Now that she intended to stay for good, she hoped to eventually find someone to teach her.

The dancer's love for art was quite apparent throughout her home. Much of it was displayed in this room. Her taste was elegantly eclectic, and everything was arranged pleasingly, from the paintings on the walls to the sculptures that sat in various places on white pedestals. One pedestal was bare. The sculpture that had once been there had been destroyed by her two miraan the previous morning while they explored their new home.

After straightening the throw on one of the couches, she entered the open arched doorway in the back wall. This room was smaller. Her sewing machine and a chair sat off to one side. Two shelves behind it held a small assortment of fabrics … one contained silks and velvets in a myriad of colors, fine wool, and hides of soft, garment-quality leather. The other held supplies for dancing costumes … filmy glittering materials and yards of beaded fringe. A rolltop desk sat by the wall beside a simple shelf full of books, and a locked cupboard contained her double -bladed sword and the weapons she used for dancing. There was art displayed here as well, mostly on the walls.

Hank and Ivy were lying on the rug, and immediately perked up when she entered. “Yes, I know, you want to be fed,” she said, patting each one on the head. “As soon as I change out of these clothes, I'll get you some food.”

She walked back into the living area and up the staircase. The second floor contained three rooms. On one side of the hallway was a small guest room and a larger room with a fireplace that housed her heat-loving snakes. There was only one door on the other side and this was her bedroom.

Keishet and Omari were sleeping on Xanadu's large four-poster bed. As soon as they heard their mistress enter, their eyes flew open and they crooned at her happily. “Hi, you two,” Xanadu smiled softly at them. “I hope you didn't mind sleeping without me last night.”

Keishet flew up and perched on the edge of the canopy, which was draped artistically with sheer plum and cream-colored fabrics, watching as Xanadu removed her cloak and tossed it carelessly on the matching bedspread, narrowly missing Omari. Chirping imperiously, he leapt into the air and joined his mate on the canopy. The petite dancer laughed. “Sorry, little fellow,” she said.

She removed her knife belt and placed it on the table by her bed, and then took off her clothes, returning them to the large wardrobe against the wall. I definitely need to get something more appropriate to wear before my next meeting with the resistance, she thought, remembering the negative way her outfit had been received last night. Perhaps I need to unpack my cart this morning and then go shopping this afternoon.

Xanadu preferred to dress mugrobi style when she was staying home. After pulling on a wrap-around skirt and tying a length of matching fabric artfully around her breasts, she checked on the snakes and then went downstairs. Keishet and Omari flew around her head, their sweet croons changing into the more persistent sound that meant they were hungry . The two bander wolves heard her coming and came to greet her at the bottom of the staircase.

She laughed and led them through a side door and into the kitchen, where she set out food for all four animals and made a rather tasteless breakfast for herself. After she had eaten, she walked past her bathing room and out the back door to her cart. She had a lot to do before Demkaih arrived tomorrow.