Otema brushed her fingers against one potted treeling. “We thank you for granting us passage, and the worldforest sends its appreciation as well.”

Rlinda nodded, not understanding their mystic connection with the treelings. “Just happy to be carrying this first cargo load. Father Idriss and Mother Alexa will see the advantages of trade in exotic foods and luxury items. This is my foot in the door.”

The merchant woman closed the door of their cabin and departed for the cockpit. Otema lay on her bunk, wrapping herself in a meditative shroud of silence, quietly praying to the worldforest. Following the ambassador’s example, Nira touched a treeling and tried to calm her pounding heart. She would have to remember all the details and relate them to the trees, like a diary. So often, she had read aloud from formal texts, stories, and poems. This way, Nira would give the trees a fresh and unedited burst of impressions, allowing them to see this exciting expedition through her novice eyes.

Rlinda’s brief announcement came over the intercom. “Hang on, everybody. We’re about to take off. I’ll try to make it a smooth ride.”

During the next two days, Nira and Otema explored the Voracious Curiosity and kept the treelings company in their cabin. Through telink, with the complete access of the worldforest’s knowledge, the two women tapped into an understanding of the Ildiran language, both written and spoken, and quickly became proficient. There would be no barriers to the success of their mission.

Together in their cabin, they also got to know each other better.

“I recognize many of the marks on your face, Otema.” Nira looked at the ovals and curves around the ambassador’s mouth, on her forehead, encircling her eyes. “I’ve had basic instruction as a reader, a musician, a planter, a caretaker, and botanist.” She smiled. “I recognize the several traveler marks you carry. But your face …” Nira shook her head in wonder. “I’ve never seen so many accomplishment marks.”

Otema touched her dark skin, as if considering the indelible tattoos for the first time in years. Her finger touched a sharp line across her left cheek. “When I was young, I loved performing music, since the worldtrees consider symphonies and melodies to be a kind of language, as instructive about human culture as statistics. Then I studied other subjects to broaden myself, acquiring more and more accomplishment marks.”

“All the lines are beautiful,” Nira said, meaning it.

“But you,” Otema said, pointing to the smoother features of Nira’s face, “after this journey you will acquire a traveler’s mark, as well as another reader tattoo and a mark for history apprenticeship. Is that what you wanted?”

“I want to serve the worldforest in whatever capacity the trees require.” She paused, realizing that Otema wanted a more honest answer. “But if I can serve the forest by seeing remarkable things, then I am all the more pleased.”