Aria couldn’t understand the proceedings. So, she and Pan hung back.

Since the Ischyros was the smaller ship by far, the other ship’s commander had agreed to come to them. A small delegation of twelve people arrived on the Ischyros. Four wore military uniforms, and three of them didn’t interest Aria very much. Their auras showed open, friendly personalities, strong colors of logic and bravery. They were scientists and military officers, and Aria knew their kind of auras well.

The fourth person in uniform happened to be the Fauchard’s commander. She interested Aria a great deal. Rooks was a tall woman with ebony hair and skin, but of course, Aria cared a great deal more about her aura.

“What’s she look like?” Pan whispered.

Aria had been feeding Pan impressions of the newcomers for two minutes. They’d just arrived at Rooks.

“She’s blue and gold. Very deep blue, so she’s a thinker. The gold is so consistent, even when her emotional colors come across,” Aria said.

And, unlike Alban, Rooks possessed a healthy array of emotional colors. They didn’t take over her aura, but they flowed in and out. At the moment, she seemed apologetic.

“I want to be gold,” Pan said.

Aria glanced at Pan to see the shimmer of gold threads. They were taking their time to creep in. What Aria saw more was a deep, painful desire to live up to the color.

Aria cleared her throat. “Should I read the translator next?”

“That really pale one? Yes,” Pan whispered back.

Aria studied the strange translator. Her eyes, obscured by a thin aura, were a bit off-putting, and she was almost as black and white as a Volanter. Otherwise, she seemed nice enough.

“Base colors are friendly yellow and a rather sorrowful blue. She has another shade of blue, intertwined with green. It’s peaceful, the kind of color that settles in after hardship – contentment. She has a strong connection with the secondary translator – the man with the similar appearance. He’s in green and blue mostly.” Aria studied the translators’ auras, and she looked down at her own greyish shades. Aria sighed.

“What about the one with the shifty eyes?” Pan gestured to a blond woman, whose eyes moved about the ship, narrowed in suspicion.

Aria could follow their movement well because the blond woman’s aura hung close to her body.

The woman waved at them.

Aria smiled. “She’s yellow, green, and orange. Very friendly. Fun, and I think she might be a bit anxious.”

Pan waved back. “A bit?”

“Just a bit,” Aria said. “She also has a connection to that quiet man, right behind her. A trail of romance.”

Pan frowned. “They’re all matched off?”

“Those six are.”

“Okay, now for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. What about the gold woman?” Pan asked.

Aria looked at Pan, and Pan turned her head to see Aria.

“She barely has an aura. She’s grey, a bit of gold, and a pale blue. And, it doesn’t do much. It just hovers.”

Pan frowned. “So, what? She’s super stoic?”

Aria shrugged. “She might be. The man nearby her is much the same, expect his colors are yellow.”

“They’re both stoic.”

Aria didn’t think so. She thought there was something missing from her analysis. She thought their species might have more to do with the lack of color.

Aria counted two more connected people, but they didn’t share the colors of romance, rather they shared what seemed to a be a familial connection. Judging from their ages, Aria guessed they were siblings. Their auras were very different. The young man’s was blue and pink; the young woman’s was orange, green, with threads of red. Pan never asked about them, probably because she was still stuck on the woman of gold and the man of bronze.

Aria looked back to the newcomers and continued to watch their auras. It had been a year since she’d had so much fun reading auras, since she’d first discovered aural edges. Of course, that was short-lived. It only worked in long abandoned locations.

Now, Aria had new auras to read. And, those auras were like Scaldin but different enough to add some interest. What’s more, Iruedian auras seemed to be more varied than the auras of an average planetary population. To see this array of shades, shapes, and effects, Aria would have had to visit a space station, populated by Scaldin, Soffigen, Liti, and others alike.

Eva could understand the proceedings perfectly. She could also listen in to the background conversations among the Scaldin and what she heard both disturbed and intrigued her.

“They’re talking about us,” Meladee said.

“Yes, I know.” Eva stood stiff and didn’t look at Meladee.

Meladee shrugged. “It’s a bit distracting.”

“Yes, so don’t add to it,” Eva said.

Meladee gestured to her ears. Can you…hear any of it?”

Eva made a sound of disgust. “Yes. The curly haired one is using magic to learn about us.”

Meladee made a face. “So, what are they saying about me?”

Eva closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “Meladee…I…”

Camellia, engaged in translation with the Scaldin ambassador, turned around. She gestured to one of her pointed ears, which poked through her dark hair. “Can you two be quiet? I’m trying to listen.”

Eva nodded slow. “Of course, I can.”

Camellia struggled and failed to hold back a smile. She looked at Meladee. “Can you be quiet for a little while, Meladee.”

Meladee glanced at Rooks. Rooks looked back at Meladee with wide, suggestive eyes.

Meladee said, “Yeah, I guess. But, I didn’t start it.” She pointed to the two, young, grey women at the back of the Scaldin party. “They’re to blame.”

The Ischyros’ commander turned around, made a cutting motion across his neck and said shush to the two women.

Eva had seen a few cultures on Iruedim, now that she’d settled into life as part of society again. She found certain cultures to be more male dominated than others, and almost all seemed more imbalanced than Lurrien society had been. Camellia attributed it to the technological setbacks Iruedim had sustained. Eva both agreed and didn’t. Camellia’s Groaza, for instance, was dominated by men but had some of the more advanced technology on Iruedim. Ponk fit the same mold, even more so. Tagtrum was lagging behind in both male dominance and tech. When Eva pointed out the three examples, Camellia said that she’d referred only to the situation as a whole in relation to Lurren. Then, she’d gone on for quite some time about the individual cultures and why things were the way they were. Eva logged most of it.

Now, she was wishing for Camellia’s take on the culture before them. The Scaldin left all their women to languish in the back of the group, while the ship’s commander – a man, the ship’s ambassador – a man, and the ship’s…fortune teller – also a man, did the talking.

Eva tried not to let it bother her, but she’d seen some of the new southern countries give Rooks and she some trouble. They were the only women officials in the north, and they were quickly realizing that they were just as alone in Iruedim’s south. Only a handful of countries had female leaders, and all had declined to enter too deep into Iruedian politics, though they sent their requisite people to Rooks’ service. They knew what was up.

Eva was getting tired of it, and she could tell so was Rooks. Yet, here they found themselves again. Although this Alban wasn’t really condescending, more wary. And, he should be. Rooks had the bigger ship.

“So, it’s settled then. We’ll help each other find a way home, and we’ll all learn Volanter. Then, we can communicate,” Camellia said.

The ambassador – Gavain – nodded his agreement. “It’s the easiest language for our side to learn.”

Camellia looked to Adalhard, who translated for Rooks. Then, she looked back to Gavain. “I…can’t exactly promise it’ll be easy for our side. We don’t all share a common history, and the Volanter language is farther removed from our modern speech. You say that you had contact with Volanters as recently as five hundred years ago.”

Gavain nodded slow. “Yes.”

Camellia’s eyes glazed. “Oh, I wish we could meet some.”

Sotir – the fortune-teller – stiffened. “Really? Why?”

Camellia explained Iruedim’s magic, short and sweet.

Eva took a private moment to check on the faces and expressions of the Scaldin. No one seemed to much like the Volanter.

Sotir nodded. “I see. Our magic system is a bit different. They didn’t give us quite so nice a legacy.”

Camellia frowned. “Oh. That’s unfortunate.” She sought Rooks’ eyes, waiting for confirmation to end the discussion.

Rooks nodded.

And, with that, the party broke into little groups, with the Iruedians planning their exit.

Florian smiled down at Camellia. “This is the find of a lifetime. Too bad we had to get lost to do it.”

Camellia smiled back. She and Florian followed their group, back to their shuttle, ready to begin their studies. They moved through winding Scaldin halls. The lighting inside was darker than that of a Girandolan ship but lighter than the typical Lurrien vessel. If Camellia had to label each vessel’s lighting arrangement, she would say Girandola made ships of sterile light. Lurriens lit their vessels to convey a mood of lost hope, and Scaldin lit their vessels as if shielded beneath a forest ceiling.

Florian shook his head and mumbled, “The find of a lifetime.”

“I know,” Camellia whispered. “It’s terrible that we’re lost, but I…I never thought we’d meet anyone that knew of the Volanter, let alone carried some of the Volanter with them still. They’re more closely related to the Volanters than we’ll ever be.” Camellia felt the corners of her mouth turn down in a frown. She set her gaze on the deck tiles below and watched her own steps. “But, they don’t seem to have a favorable opinion of them. Do they?”

“Of the Volanter? No, they don’t,” Florian agreed. “It could be cultural differences.”

“Or time.” Camellia stepped aside and waited for others to enter the shuttle first. “They have a more recent impression, which means…”

“You think we should trust it?”

Camellia couldn’t decide to nod or shake her head. She didn’t know. She’d been taught the Volanter were responsible for life on Iruedim as she knew it. She’d been told that they were a great people, who advanced the ways of magic. She’d been told that the Volanter were part of her, and she’d been told all those things by Cernunnos. Camellia let her mouth hang open, undecided on how to answer Florian.

“It doesn’t matter.” Florian reached for her.

Camellia smiled half-heartedly. “At least, we don’t have to learn a new language.”

Florian smiled back. “I did my time. I know the better part of twenty languages. I think that should earn me a break once in a while.”

Camellia broke into a wider smile. “I agree. And, the best part is that Sten and Eva already know Volanter too.”

Meladee walked between the two anthropologists, grumbling something about Increased Learning not cutting it. Benham shared her exhausted expression. They crossed the threshold of the shuttle, as well as the threshold of an aborted conversation between the Adalhards.

Florian waved Camellia aboard. “Looks like most of us have some catching up to do.”

“It’s not going to be easy.” Camellia turned and looked back into the shuttle bay.

Girders and supports in the ceiling of the bay followed a crisscross pattern, straight and clearly man-made, but the wires and tubes that followed along that design took on a more natural flow. Camellia interpreted it as jungle vines, traveling along trees.

And, the Scaldin seemed to like trees. They wore them on their uniforms. Trees had been painted in certain places on the ships. Cargo containers were stamped with some variation of a tree. Even the shuttles bore the symbol.

Camellia wondered if the trees were a symbol of the Volanters. Didn’t they have to be?

Camellia startled at a shouted call from the edge of the shuttle bay. It was the Scaldin fortune-teller, Sotir.

Pan followed on the heels of the Iruedians, trying to catch up to them before they left aboard their shuttle. She’d gotten an incredulous look from Alban the moment she took off. She’d heard Sotir mumble something about catching her. He’d be lucky if he could. He might be taller; he might have longer legs. Well, he did have both those things. He was also stronger, which bugged Pan a little. But, he was not faster.

“Where are you going?” Sotir asked.

“You know,” Pan said.

“You can’t talk to them.”

“That’s why I’m glad you followed me. Call to them before they get on their shuttle.” Pan pointed. “Ask which of them knows arcane circles.”

Pan found being unbound lonely, but it was about to get better. She’d found someone like her. One of the Iruedians had made that spectacular arcane circle of four rings, and Pan was going to find out who.

Sotir sighed. In Volanter, he called to them. The whole group stopped and turned. Someone translated for Curator Rooks – a strange but awesome title that Pan fully approved of.

Rooks gestured to the blond-haired woman. Pan believed her name was Meladee. That woman’s suspicious eyes moved from Sotir to Pan. Pan beckoned.

Meladee gave Rooks a look, shrugged, and stalked closer, dragging the translator with her.

“Ask her how she does it,” Pan said.

Sotir raised his eyebrows. “You think you’re going to get a circle lesson right now?”

“I just want to hear what she has to say.” Pan turned and faced Meladee. She tapped Sotir’s arm.

Pan waited patiently while the words moved from Sotir to Camellia. Then, she waited while the words moved from Camellia to Meladee, the master of circles. Meladee considered but only for a minute. Then, she rattled off a long spiel. Camellia listened and relayed it.

Finally, Sotir faced Pan again. “She says that it takes a lot of practice, but you can learn faster by relaxing. I explained that you can’t get the right feeling when you cast. She thinks you’re trying too hard. She says you should get the runes in place and see if they give you any information – like an idea, an emotion, a sensation – before you go ahead and try to cast.”

Pan frowned. “So, she wants me to relax and see if the runes tell me what to do.”

Sotir nodded once. “Yes.”

Meladee spoke again.

Camellia snorted a laugh and relayed the message.

Sotir grinned. “She says you’re magically constipated.”

Pan felt her face warm and twist with offense. Her grey skin probably showed some blush. “Well, I’ll show her. I’ll…” Pan looked at Meladee to find her smiling. “I’ll learn to cast a new circle before I see you again.”

Sotir repeated what Pan said in Volanter. The message traveled back to Meladee. She said something and walked off, with a final wave. Camellia relayed those last words and hurried after. Their game of telephone was done.

Pan turned to Sotir. “What did she say?”

“She said she was glad she could help.” He put a hand on Pan’s shoulder. “Are we headed to your cargo bay?”

“Yes, we are. Meet me there, and bring the book.”