He changed on the grass and Yenni fairly jumped on Weysh’s back, eager to be away from stubborn Mainard, the campus, Cresh itself if she could. However, even with Weysh’s warm, reassuring bulk beneath her and the wind whistling its sweet tune in her ears, Yenni’s mood stayed resolutely irate. The rainbow houses of Imperium Centre passed by in a muddled blur, largely unappreciated. How Yenni wished she could reveal to that bullheaded Mainard her true status as the chieftain’s daughter. Perhaps then he would show her the respect she was used to. But she knew that would be unwise. Dayo’s warning was not lost on her, and even if her brother was being overly cautious in warning her not to reveal her identity, there could be Creshens who might seek to capture her for ransom. Creshens like those who had attacked her in the alley. She wouldn’t go without a fight, of course, and she had her friends to help her, but it would be nonsensical to put herself in unnecessary danger. Father Ri was always ready and waiting to instruct the foolish.

They couldn’t have been flying for more than a quarter of an hour when the sky began to rumble and flash so suddenly Yenni half wondered if she’d drawn the storm with her ire. Weysh screeched, letting her know they would have to cut their flight short. He glided a few minutes more, his neck bobbing and stretching as he scanned the landscape, until finally he shrugged his wings and let out that familiar cry that meant he planned to descend.

They landed among the ruins of some Creshen structure. Yenni slipped off Weysh’s back and ran through the warm spring rain, which hissed and splattered on the cracked stones of a wide pathway. She darted past rows of chipped white arches that bordered the path on either side, and headed for the relative shelter of a high and crumbling dome at the path’s end. As she ducked inside she heard Weysh’s splashing footfalls behind her. Yenni stood in a dry corner under the arched ceiling, folding her arms as she surveyed their temporary shelter. Broken stained-glass windows revealed the overcast sky of the storm and stubborn blades of grass pushed up through the cracks between the floor.

Weysh sat against the wall beside her. “Apologies, lovely. I can usually smell a storm coming. We’ll have to stop here for a while. Lightning and flight are not a terribly good mix.”

“What is this place?” she asked.

“It was a chapelle—a place to pray and worship. Some rich noble must have built it but then fallen on hard times and couldn’t afford the upkeep.”

Weysh patted the spot beside him, but Yenni was too full of restless energy to sit. She paced back and forth in the small dry patch where the high dome of the roof didn’t leak.