“Oh! I’m sorry. I did not realize.”

Thunder crashed outside, and Weysh wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “Don’t trouble yourself, my heart. You didn’t know. Oh! Speaking of culture clashes, these salamanders remind me of something. Do you have your paint with you?”

“Not my paint; Professor Devon’s mixture. But, yes, I always carry some.”

“Well, remember that conversation we had in the library some moonturns back, when you painted me with a rune? Why not try painting me in dragon? We’ve got some time to kill after all.”

“Oh!” said Yenni. “Yes, let’s try it!” She welcomed the distraction.

Weysh pushed off from the wall and made his way to the center of the circular chapelle, right among the rotting wooden benches that ringed the space. He spun slowly, judging the distance, seemed to come to some conclusion, and the next moment he was in dragon, errant raindrops plopping on his scales. There was just enough room for Yenni to scoot around him. She stroked his face and kissed his warm nose bridge, smiling at his low, delighted hum. Taking out her paint from her satchel, she bade him lie flat. She painted the rune for wind right there on his nose bridge, ach’e welling in her throat as she softly sang the hymn.

“There, now try to activate the rune.”

Yenni watched, breath held with anticipation, for the familiar glow, but nothing happened. “Weh-sheh? What’s wrong? Can’t you do it?”

He closed his pretty jewel-tone eyes and let out a soft, hissing sigh. Let me focus.

She watched him, silent before the rain’s serenade. He breathed deep, his large body expanding, then exhaled. The rune flickered and glowed, and a burst of warm wind fanned her face.

“You did it!” Yenni cried, and clapped her hands together. “Incredible! Come, let’s try it again.”

She tried painting a wind rune under his chin, and after a few moments of concentration he blasted her with that one as well. Yenni shuffled around him, painting different parts of his body—his leg, a wing, his tail—dodging and shooing curious salamanders as she went. She sent a silent prayer to Ib-e-ji that the creatures wouldn’t set the rotting benches ablaze, damp as they were. In fact, she drew two quick water runes on the backs of her hands just in case. But whether the Sha had heard her, or just by their own natural instinct, or perhaps fascination with Weysh, the salamanders stayed clear of the wood.

With some effort, Weysh was able to use all the runes Yenni painted. She found that the bigger the rune, the more fierce a gust he was able to produce. It seemed his bigger body needed a bigger anchor.

“Well, this has been a great success!” Yenni said happily.