Days had passed without Thyathyrec seeing anyone but Kyò, and he had actually started getting mad about it. He wouldn't have minded it so much if Kyò had let him sleep it off, but no such luck. He hadn't made any significant progress with Cyiki's journal, either—the lack of sequentially repeated characters made deciphering as impossible as if the "letters" were all numbers, and the "words" could mean literally anything.
Even Lyiyn hadn't come around in his spare time. Had the higher-ups put the soldiers back on perimeter duty to find any more of Cyiki's kind? Did he miss a warning about the neighbouring province, that they needed more soldiers on defence detail? He almost wished for his old humdrum routine, which at least felt like a comfortable rut, and would have given him a reason to get out of bed other than to toilet and eat food he couldn't taste without feeling nauseated. Not even tea settled his stomach, lately.
Luckily, at the start of Day 4 of his isolation—longer than he had wanted but sooner than he expected—Mylikò stopped by before he could head back to the labs for more busywork. "Your turn!" she cheered, holding out her hand in a friendly gesture as though it was perfectly obvious what she had in store for him.
Thyathyrec felt overwhelmed by her warmth. Did she pull some strings to get through the cycle sooner, or... "I figured IЪel would've made me wait for the rest of my life."
"Screw that guy," Mylikò sneered. "Also, we cycled through faster than expected. Ahfiamiďiec-xu pulled a few people off the team for some other projects, and... Well, everyone else says they've been hitting a wall with Cyiki."
"Hitting what kind of wall?"
She shrugged. "We can read the notes once we're there, but I guess she's too..." Mylikò frowned. "...sad."
He couldn't blame her. The one person who had tried to show her kindness kept away... He shook his head at his egotism again. Probably more likely she had the blues from being imprisoned and isolated. Still, it would be the first time he'd get to see Cyiki as part of the observation track. He felt both excited to see her and miffed that they had kept him away from her for seemingly so long, despite having agreed to it to get IЪel off his case.
At the chamber, Thyathyrec felt beyond disappointed that nothing had noticeably changed since he last saw Cyiki. She even huddled in the very same place, in the very same pose. Did she prefer it there, farthest from everyone? Was the room too cold? Even the livestock animals moved around now and again. Of course, clearly keepers treated livestock better than the scholars had treated Cyiki.
Mylikò stood at one of the recording stations and read a summary of the last shift's log. "'She still seems uncooperative. None of us have been able to get her to talk to us, and she's barely eaten anything.' Poor girl."
Frowning, Thyathyrec looked at Cyiki with overwhelming empathy. He often felt exactly the way she looked behind that glass.
He hobbled over to the door and opened the hatch to retrieve her uneaten food. It looked and smelled disgusting. Curious, he took a taste and immediately spat it out. "What is this? Dog food?" He noticed Cyiki twitch out of the corner of his eye, probably frightened of his reaction.
"I – don't know? Do we even have dogs anymore?"
"Why isn't she being fed her own food? At least to help her adjust to ours?"
"We... Well, *I* did sneak her some when Zòl-ku let me sit in on his shift, but even then, she only took certain packets and left the rest."
He thought about this. "The others must need special preparation, like cooking or rehydrating."
Mylikò turned some pages in the lab book. "I noted which ones she ate and which she didn't, but IЪe-ku has been restrictive about giving her back her food, since there's a limited supply."
Of COURSE IЪel would do such a thing. He didn't care at all about anything but the end result, regardless of who got hurt on the way there. "Analyse the composition as quickly as possible and try to replicate it for her with our food, if he's so eager to keep hers away. Give her a little bit of a large variety of things, in case she has an allergy to some of it."
"Absolutely," Mylikò affirmed, seemingly pleased to get orders that made sense and weren't outright cruel.
"Also, give her a screen," he demanded.
Mylikò raised her eyebrows at him, momentarily confused as she looked around. "Come again?"
"In zoos, the animals have their own places to sleep without being under the scrutiny of the public. We've not given her that dignity. Cyiki is clearly more intelligent than an animal, but we're treating her worse than one. How do you expect her to open up to us when we're forcing her to eat, sleep, and excrete before our prying eyes? I certainly wouldn't cooperate with an alien race that treated me this way."
Mylikò turned a hint of pink. "I hadn't thought of that. Of course."
Annoyed at their oversight, Thyathyrec took his seat, taking a load off his bad leg. "What's on today's agenda?"
She rolled her eyes. "IЪe-ku figured you would say, 'She would be more willing to cooperate if we could only communicate with her,'"—at this part, her voice took on IЪel's signature twang—"so either teaching her our language or learning hers is top priority. I figured we could start that today."
"Sure, I'll start," he declared, leaning on his staff as he smiled at her imitation. "I don't mean to sound like I'm bossing you around, even though I am your boss, but could you go ahead and get the screen? It'll be faster if you do it."
"Of course," she agreed. "I'll get on it. Have fun!"
As he watched Mylikò leave, Thyathyrec felt inexplicably pleased. He had Cyiki to himself, at least for a little while. In fact, several moments had passed before he realised he was just basking in scholastic delight.
Where to start, though? What was the first thing he wanted to know about her? Well, she would certainly have a name, and it wasn't likely to be anything like Cyiki, or she would have answered to it already. However, he felt uncomfortable with the idea of finding out her real name—he liked Cyiki. Still, introductions must come first in any polite society.
Name it was.
Willing himself to stand, he limped over to the reinforced polymer wall, pausing briefly to marvel yet again at the alien lady's mere existence. Finally, he squatted, crossing his legs as he sat on the floor facing her. "Hello again," he began, bowing as he spoke. "My name is Thyathyrec. What is your name?"
Without Mylikò there, Cyiki seemed more open. She cautiously approached the barrier, kneeling to meet his eye level as she did.
"Thyathyrec," he repeated, touching his chest as he did so. "My name is Thyathyrec. Who are you?"
Although Cyiki had shown signs of intelligence, at the moment she seemed as absent as a child staring in awe of her first snowfall. It disarmed him to feel how intently she seemed to stare into his very being. He silently hoped it wasn't some kind of psychological attack.
"Thyli...?" she whispered.
This snapped him out of his trance. "I'm Thyathyrec," he said once more. "Thy-a-thy-rec."
Cyiki seemed similarly startled. "Ųy'," she muttered. "Thy... a..."
"Yes?"
"Thy – a – thyrec?"
He felt invigorated. Progress! "Yes! Thyathyrec!"
The look on her face startled him, like a surprised pout.
He waited patiently for her to reciprocate, gesturing toward her. "And you are...?"
Her expression became spacy as she gathered her thoughts. "Thya – thyrec. Lny nysijų Yrakc."
Thyathyrec frowned at her. He had gotten a full sentence out of her, but what did it mean?
"You are...?" he prompted.
"Yrakc," she repeated, as he had, pointing to her nose as she did. "Lny nysijų Yrakc."
So he had a name for her now. Yrakc? It didn't sound as pretty as Cyiki, but that wasn't his choice anymore.
"You are Yrakc," he responded as he pointed to her, confirming her meaning. She smiled and nodded shyly in affirmation.
"Jyllų nysijų Thyathyrec."
He nodded in recognition. They were getting somewhere.
So now what?
Thinking for a moment, he glanced at the station. Mylikò had left a stack of loose paper and wax pencils, as the team usually provided for his shifts. Frowning at his lack of foresight, he struggled to stand again and hobbled over to fetch them, then returned to his seat by the barrier. On the top sheet of paper, he wrote his name in large, bold letters, then showed the page to Yrakc.
"Thyathyrec," he pronounced carefully, pointing to each syllable as he spoke. "Thyathyrec—that's me." At the last, he pointed to himself.
Cyiki stared at him with curiosity, then looked at the letters again. "Thyathyrec?" she asked, perking her ears.
"Yes! Thyathyrec. Me."
"Thyathyrec." Uncertain, she pointed at him. "Thyathyrec?"
"Yes! This is my name. Thyathyrec."
She seemed to ponder this, biting her thumb. Figuring she wanted to write something, Thyathyrec slid the hatch open and pushed the paper and pencil to her. Smiling, she took the pencil in her right hand and wrote more letters underneath his name. To his surprise, it read like complete gibberish:
DAEDALUS.
"Thyathyrec?" she asked, pointing to the oddly-arranged letters.
Did she not understand after all? "No," he said, pointing again to his name. "Thyathyrec."
This time, she simply stared at him, not comprehending. Confused, she wrote more letters on the paper:
ALEX.
"Yrakc," she emphasised, touching her nose.
Thyathyrec looked even more aghast than before. How ever did she manage to get 'Alex' from Yrakc? Unless—
He looked away momentarily. Just because the letters were similar, that didn't mean that every language that used them necessarily pronounced them the same way. By some strange coincidence, did Cyiki's—no, Yrakc's—alien language use similar letters to their alphabet? How similar? And what of the squiggles from the craft?
Small steps, he reminded himself. He would deal with the squiggles when they became relevant.
Taking another pencil and paper, Thyathyrec repeated the exercise, this time with the pencil itself. "Pencil," he said, pointing to it. He drew a pencil on the paper and wrote the word next to it. "Pencil," he repeated.
She seemed to catch on more quickly this time. "Aųidhu," she responded, after a brief hesitation, writing ehitu on her own paper.
Thyathyrec frowned again. He couldn't identify any recognisable connection between what she said and what she wrote. It didn't make any sense at all. Yrakc seemed to consider this as well, raising her eyebrows at him expectantly.
"Hand," he continued, pointing to his right hand. "Hand." He put his hand on the paper and traced around it, writing the word next to it.
"Ki," she declared, doing the same with her left hand and writing ki. "Kisi," she continued, pointing to each of the fingers on her traced hand, but writing kichi.
"Finger," he responded, following suit.
They continued in this fashion, each time awaiting not only for acknowledgement of a word for an object but also soliciting the other's word for the same object. After some contemplation, he realised that some of the letters had similar pronunciations and shapes while others were completely foreign. Her language sounded phonetic as well, which meant covering each sound and written letter individually.
This would take a while.
They took a short break after about a hundred words, as Thyathyrec pondered how best to work up to more complex grammar. As she waited, Yrakc appeared to have her own ideas of how to proceed, starting on some more complex drawings of her own.
Just then, IЪel burst into the room. "What's this Myl-sy says about requisitioning a screen?" he didn't ask so much as thunder.
Yrakc jumped at IЪel's entrance, running away to the other side of the enclosure. It annoyed Thyathyrec to see her upset again, just as she had started to warm to him. "What's wrong with a privacy screen?" he asked, offended by IЪel's insensitivity.
"That thing's a prisoner of war, Thya-ku!" he declared. "It doesn't deserve anything."
"War? What faction are you fighting, other than me?" Thyathyrec strained to get to his feet again. "I thought the idea was to open up a line of communication."
"What does pampering it have to do with communication?"
"Treating her with dignity and respect, that's what. Haven't you heard that you can attract more pryis with honey than with vinegar?"
IЪel pointed angrily at Yrakc. "Our priority is to find out if there are more of that, and if they're hostile!"
"Well, IЪel, it won't help if you make her hostile, will it?"
"Don't you talk down to me like that!"
"I'll talk to you however I please!" Thyathyrec scolded. "By age, title, and experience, I'm your superior."
"By sanity, I'm yours!"
Thyathyrec whirled on him, pointing his staff in IЪel's face. "Don't you talk to me about sanity, you little prick! You know damn well what I'm capable of doing."
IЪel scowled at him but didn't speak, as though weighing the cost of physical confrontation. "Of course I do," he spat in contempt, "but would you be successful this time?"
The remark made Thyathyrec's hand tremble in rage. He wanted desperately to lash out at IЪel and really had to fight himself to keep from carrying out the act. Not again, not again, not again... NEVER again... "This is getting us nowhere," he growled, stabbing the floor with his staff. "If you don't want to waste precious funds requisitioning a screen, I'll make one my-goddamned-self out of my staff and the shirt off my back and give it to her whether you like it or not. It's just common decency."
"Fine," IЪel snorted, resigning. "I'll put in the request if it will get you to shut up about it."
"One more thing," Thyathyrec commanded, this time ready to fight to enforce the order.
"What?" IЪel snapped.
"Let her bathe. She's filthy from living in the wilderness and days of captivity."
He glared at Thyathyrec, but his expression reflected him starting to soften up to the benefits of providing basic humane treatment—or, at least, failing to find a good reason to say no. "Fine, I'll have Ųòmel-cy bring a hose and a towel when he comes to clean tonight."
"Thank you," he responded with genuine gratitude.
"You'd better get some amazing results from this."
"I don't know about you, but that had always been my goal."
IЪel stared at him for a moment, then seemed to think better of it, shaking his head as he walked away.
Presently, Kyò dropped in to take Thyathyrec back to have lunch, Mylikò having convinced her to let him skip breakfast since now he seemed more interested in his work. "Thya-ku," she called. "Time to eat."
It felt like his mother calling him in as a child, when playtime had just gotten the most fun. "I'm not hungry," he insisted, too absorbed in his one big breakthrough.
"You must eat," she insisted, "and go bathroom."
Ugh... "I feel fine. Either bring food to me or let me keep working, but I'm not leaving yet."
She seemed to consider this at least. "I will bring lunch to here."
Ideal! "Did Mylikò speak with you about what she needs?"
"I'm not feeding Myl-sy. She can feed herself!"
"No, for 'Cyiki.'"
Kyò looked confused. "Do the keepers not feed her?"
"They are giving her animal food, which she doesn't like. Please get a sample of lots of foods for her to try, to see what she can eat."
"Oh!" Kyò nodded quickly in agreement, apparently understanding unwilling eaters quite well. Thyathyrec harumphed at that subtext popping into mind. "I will return with foods."
Alone again, Thyathyrec grew even more pleased with himself. He needed to really shine now to ensure he could still work with her. Did he dare to attempt a more aggressive line of questioning?
He took another sheet of paper and drew a crude version of their sun and planet, surrounded by some of the neighbouring planets and their orbits. "Elď," he said, pointing to their planet, then to the sun and other planets. "Cen. Melkiuli. Èinec. Mylc. We are on Elď." He pointed at Elď, then gestured in the air all around him. "This is Elď. Where is your home?" He pointed at Yrakc. "Yrakc's home?"
Staring at the drawing, she thought a moment before responding. It seemed like she didn't recognise anything in his drawing. Surely she had seen it from space while crashing? Or were his art skills really that bad?
Finally, on her own paper, she patiently drew a star surrounded by four planets and their orbits, all perfectly spaced. "Sthu," she said, pointing to their star. "Jyilc, Sithųuc, Inlyc..." She indicated each planet in turn. Finally, she stopped on the last one, then pointed to herself.
"Dhallyųelly," she indicated.
The map didn't resemble anything he had ever seen before. He had assumed that she had simplified the map for teaching purposes, but she had made a pronounced effort to space the orbits exactly, such that Jyilc and Sithųuc were the same distance from each other as Jyilc was from Sthu, and Inlyc from Dhallyųelly. A galaxy like this didn't exist within view of Elď, not with any of the instruments they had—how did she manage to survive such a distance on a short-range craft?
"How did you get from Dhallyųelly—" He pointed to her planet. "—to Elď?" He pointed to his planet.
Yrakc considered this, frowning deeply. Did even she not know?
After a few moments, she held up the pencil, pointing to herself, then to the pencil. "Lny dhuųycthdh Sthu ythz," she said, holding the pencil near her planet, then showed its flight plan near the star. "Thzyn, lnòllthyyn inthdh, lnydhų yin ųòuthiųuldhsy ųòuthdh cathakydhų zuudhi ythi." She indicated it careening out of control completely away from her galaxy. "Lny laďjų Elď izajų ualųxď Dhallyųelly ďaòďhuųthiza ųy'. Lny laďjų lnyni ylòųòu ďaòlkyųll thuaythdh sindhò ųy'. Lnyni yin ųòuthiųuldhsy sithųuďixjų ųy', lny laďjų Dhallyųellyni zuudhi ythi ųy'."
Thyathyrec couldn't quite parse all of her words, but he understood that her craft had a problem, and she had left escape velocity for her galaxy, making her unable to get back home.
"How are you alive?" he asked, incredulous. "How are you here?" He pointed to Elď, then made a gagging noise and fell over, playing dead before sitting up again. "You should be dead now, but you're not!"
She considered his pantomime, then drew her craft, indicating a box toward one of the holds. Thyathyrec had seen the others' notes on the craft making it out as some kind of large freezer. "Lny sindhònidhòthdh," she indicated, pointing to the box, then making a sleepy gesture as she lay down.
Did – she freeze herself?
Thyathyrec pondered this. He couldn't know for certain the success rate of her cryofreezing, but admittedly it gave her an infinitely better chance of surviving the failed mission than had she remained awake indefinitely. Their own technology hadn't advanced enough for cryofreezing to work, or at least not to where the subject could be safely unfrozen, since cell tissue is irreparably damaged upon freezing. Only on a micro level did cryofreezing work, with stem cells or – other genetic material.
He pointed to the box, then made a shivering gesture and pointed at Yrakc. "You froze yourself?"
She nodded, apparently thinking he understood. "Za'," she agreed, inhaling noticeably on the last part of the word.
So no chance of her planet invading, if she had no way to report to them where she had even landed. Her confusion about Elď also made sense, if she had only awoken upon crashing here.
"Are you alone?" He had to verify. "You, one." He pointed at her and held up one finger. "Two...? Three...?" He held up each number of fingers in turn, gesturing around as though questioning.
Yrakc shook her head. "One," she agreed, using his language and mimicking his gesture, holding up one finger then pointing the same finger toward herself.
So she was all alone. Thyathyrec gave her a sad look, wishing he could hug her. She mimicked his sorrow, looking full of regret.
"Sad," he said, pointing to himself.
Yrakc nodded. "Yaykx."
That settled that. Yrakc had arrived alone, couldn't go back home even if she knew where to find home, and would die here, alone among a completely foreign race. At best, they could exchange knowledge, but IЪel would never agree to letting her out of her prison. They really were in the same boat.
"I wish I could do more for you," he whispered.
Yrakc didn't have a response for him. Maybe he didn't need one.
After some time, Kyò returned with an entire pushcart loaded with food. Well, he certainly could appreciate her efforts when she went all out! "Thank you so much, Aliac-cy!"
"Of course, my Thya-ku!" she beamed with pride. "I do hope you will eat some as well, though."
Thyathyrec smirked in amusement, taking a dish of vegetables and putting it through the hatch for Yrakc, who sniffed it with curiosity. She tried a bite of hfòdhaidhò, remarking, "Iynu!"
"You like it?"
She drew an elliptical shape, then pointed to the plate. "Injų iynu."
"Hmm," he thought. "Hfòdhaidhò."
Yrakc tilted her head at him with curiosity, then sniffed and tried a piece of kyalledh. "Ųylcni," she remarked, drawing a long triangular shape with long stalks at the wide end.
"Kyalledh."
She seemed wary of the kòln and Ъins, though Thyathyrec named them for her. "Illndh dhòųth injų?"
He supposed they didn't resemble anything she had eaten, briefly wondering what she had eaten before they found her. Anything in the wild?
"Lny ďythxdhòkjų nuccycyndt," she complained, eyeing the cart when she didn't seem interested in the rest of the vegetables. Not that she didn't try them; the taste just made her spit them out immediately.
Kyò handed over a bowl of oatmeal. Thyathyrec moved to place it in the hatch when Yrakc stood next to it, sniffing the air.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Lny jiųajų nuccy," she said, pointing to the cart. "Lny xdhòkjų sniòxjų dhòųth."
Maybe she wanted one of the hot dishes before they got cold. "How about the sandwich?" Thyathyrec asked, pointing to the sić one.
Kyò brought over the dish, and Thyathyrec offered it accordingly, taking her unfinished vegetables. Yrakc seemed slightly perplexed but took a cautious bite. "Ųelyď," she noted, chewing but not quite enjoying it.
"What other hot dishes did you bring?"
"Dhelki sandwich, soup, stew..."
"How about the soup?"
They repeated the gesture for the soup, and Yrakc again gave it a curious examination. She took a sip as Thyathyrec sneakily took a bite of her unfinished sandwich, feeling mischievous at the same time his appetite returned. Another first: sharing food with an alien!
"Lny yųliď dhòųth ųiu," she noted. "Lny ciųyųlijų ixdhų nunųujų."
"Is that a yes?"
"Za'jy'...?"
"Maybe, then."
Next, the stew, with chunks of dhelki in it. Oops. He didn't know how she would handle meat; he had a fish allergy, himself, so he felt wary for her. Yrakc grabbed at it almost immediately, though.
"Òų!" she cried, sipping it up. "Cių nunųudhų nuccydhų!"
Huh. She hadn't looked like a meat-eater, but then, Thyathyrec knew lots of herbivorous animals would still eat meat to get protein. She certainly wouldn't have gotten much of that here—not fresh, anyway.
"So far, then," Thyathyrec noted, "she liked or at least ate the dhelki stew, hfòdhaidhò, kyalledh, and soup... what kind of soup base was that?"
"I think it is enien soup."
"We can try those and some other different types of foods later," he commented, nodding and writing down the menu for her.
Yrakc interrupted them by showing them a drawing of a bird with curly horns and four legs, then pointing to the stew. "Ųisxi?" she asked, eyes large. "Cių yųliď!"
They have birds – with four legs? Thyathyrec mused on this, then quickly drew the dhelki, with distinctive wattle, wings, two legs, and large tail feathers. "Dhelki."
Yrakc's face had a curious expression, like he had drawn a scary monster instead of a regular animal. She looked down at the stew, then back at the drawing. Shrugging, she held up the bowl with a smile, pointing to it. "Yllijųzya lny dhòųth, ziththyza'!"
Thyathyrec smiled back. At least she had some nourishment now, he thought, hoping it didn't make her sick later.
After lunch, Thyathyrec had Kyò bring all of the children's books she could find. He took one and held it up for Yrakc to see, then described what the story showed. "Once upon a time, there was a field where lots of little lyaЪiadhs lived—"
"Illndh injų DHÒŲTHDHÒŲTHJY'??"
Yrakc seemed startled by the lyaЪiadh drawings, making a bizarre face when she looked at the book. "These are lyaЪiadhs, animals in our world. They have long ears and hind feet, with squat bodies and short tails." He pointed to each body part as he described them.
"Jyllų ilyòjų n'zylaųydhų kithyky??" She seemed beyond aghast at the pictures of lyaЪiadhs.
Thyathyrec supposed she felt offended by the book. He wondered if it was somehow racist to her. Shaking his head, he put down the book. "Let's try a different one." He picked up another book and held up the cover to let her see. "Do you have fish?" He pointed to the normal fish swimming around a person with a fish body.
Yrakc looked perplexed, but she nodded, drawing a small number of different kinds of aquatic life that vaguely resembled ones he had seen before. "Dhallyųelly ilyòjų dhòųth xynally."
Thyathyrec nodded. Maybe she would understand this one. "This story is about a melmaith. She lived in the ocean." He pointed to each in turn. "The melmaith lived happily in the ocean for some time..." Here, he indicated her smile. "...but one day she went to the surface, where she saw the people living on the land. This made her unhappy, because she fell in love with a man who lived on the land."
Something twinged in his heart at that moment. He hadn't thought about this story in a long time, but it seemed to resonate with him more strongly now, for reasons he couldn't quite grasp. He glanced at Yrakc to gauge her reaction, and she seemed a bit unfocused—distracted?
He finished the story, but Yrakc seemed a bit sadder than when he had started. Maybe that hadn't been a good one to read to her. Even so, she grabbed at the hatch. "Ųithinthųijųzya lny zixinòjų dhòųth thòyųniòc."
Curious, he pushed the book into the hatch, where she snatched it up immediately.
"Dhòųth injų kyn – melmaith?" She used his word for the half-fish protagonist. He assumed that meant her people didn't have a similar type of creature in their world. "Jynadhòųth cynallyjų kykųďinlynu. Jynadhòųth aykxjų kykųďinlynu, jynadhòųth jųanď thaųillydhòųth nlaiď." Yrakc pointed to the same things Thyathyrec indicated, to describe the same story again, but in her words. "Jynadhòųth jųanď jyny thaųillydhòųth sindhònò, jynadhòųth inualsyųjų yaykxdhų znyďy'i jynydhòųth yųlòųulijų sniucųyjų. Jynadhòųth jyljthynjų jynadhòųthni nuc inualsyųjų thaųillydhòųth, ųyn jyny thaųillydhòųth jyajų jynadhòųth ųy'. Nyknu, jynadhòųth jųykkyjųy aykxdhų inkynď ythi."
Her version simplified the story by a lot, since Yrakc didn't know the significance of the characters, but he started to grasp the structure of her grammar. "Thòyniòc yaykxdhų, melmaith jųykkythdh indhųkyn," he said to explain the story in her language.
"Oų!" Yrakc exclaimed. "You speak word!"
She surprised him. Her understanding maybe hadn't quite reached his, but they had definitely broken through a barrier. "Za'!" he agreed.
They spent the rest of the day reading to each other and deepening their understanding of their languages and themselves. Kyò brought a number of different meals for supper, including Yrakc's favourite stew, and they worked out an approximate diet she could follow when the other scholars had their turns. When Kyò at last insisted that Thyathyrec turn in for the night to let Yrakc sleep, he agreed only with great reluctance, wishing instead they could stay together like at a sleepover.
He raised a hand in farewell. "Lny ciųdhykjų ųòujų jaųythųnò, ųyn lny ziththyylòųòuththi ualcďsindhò," Thyathyrec promised.
"Please return soon," Yrakc pleaded, holding her hand against the barrier with a worried look on her face.
He made a move as though to touch the barrier in the same place, that their hands could come as close as possible, but at the last moment, he pulled back. "Yliď nidhò," he whispered, glumly turning to leave.
From behind him, Yrakc sighed. "Good night."
