Yenni laughed. “‘Great golden sky turtles’? That sounds like a Creshen expression of shock.”

But Georges’s mouth had dropped open. “Hey, now, Messer Nolan, it’s not nice to mess with the help.”

“I swear it!” said Weysh. “They even flew with us for a while!”

“I touched one,” said Yenni.

Both Weysh and Georges rounded on her. “You what?!” they said together.

“Do you know how rare that is?” asked Weysh.

“What did it feel like?” inquired Georges. The both of them waited expectantly.

“Oh, well, it felt smooth, like metal.”

“I knew it! Their shells really are made of gold!” cried Georges.

Weysh shook his head. “Only you, Yenni.”

“Are such creatures not common in Cresh?”

“Well, that depends on how you define common. If you consider a sighting once every one hundred and fifty years or so common, then yes, I suppose they’re common, Yenni,” said Weysh. “They largely stick to otherspace.”

“Incredible,” breathed Georges.

A nervous, excited fluttering began in Yenni’s chest, and she couldn’t keep from smiling.

That evening, Yenni sat at the little desk in Weysh’s bedroom, writing a letter home while Weysh bathed. She had much to report, and was so lost in her thoughts that Weysh’s knock against the doorframe startled her. He stood shirtless in his sleep pants, his dark hair free and flowing.

“I’m going up to the rooftop,” he said. “Coming?”

Yenni looked him up and down. The light from the fire formed deep shadows in the dips of his muscular arms and stomach, accentuating them.

“Yenni?”

“No,” she said. “Let’s sleep here.”

He furrowed his brow, confused “En? But I can’t fit in here in dragon.”

Yenni laughed as she slid from her chair. She took Weysh’s hand and led him to the bed, where they lay facing each other. Yenni twined her arms around Weysh’s neck and tangled her legs in his.

“Good night, my heart,” said Weysh.

“Good night, my Given,” she replied. Weysh smiled deeply, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“How was your day?” he asked, trailing his nails down her back in a way that made her want to purr like a field sphinx. She told him about Mainard offering her the spot as professor of runelore, assuming she would jump at the chance, and her demand for triple Devon’s wages.

Weysh laughed that laugh she loved so much. “Of course you demanded triple the wage. Never, ever change, my sweet,” he said, and stroked her cheek. Yenni closed her eyes, relishing not only his fingers on her skin, but the closing of the gulf that had opened between them.

“I received a lot of attention today,” she said.