Quan finishes treating Edger’s neck. He slips both the silk cloth and the salve inside his robes and strides over to Ku’s home away from home. Dyeawan watches with interest as the tall attendant reaches down inside the glass and gently unfolds Ku from his companion. The wind dragon seems half asleep and offers no resistant. Quan reaches inside his robe and removes a horsehide bellows small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. A long, thick needle is attached to the mouth of the bellows.

The attendant lovingly cradles the green wind dragon in one hand. The other deftly slips the tip of the needle between two of his scales. Quan gently squeezes the bellows, the elixir of which he spoke traveling through the needle and filling the wind dragon’s small body.

Quan returns the bellows to his robes and carries Ku over to Edger’s chair. Cupping both hands around the creature, he very delicately presses its body against Edger’s exposed throat. The attendant’s hands are obscuring Dyeawan’s view, but she watches as Edger’s body stiffens, just for a moment, and then relaxes. The rushing of air is audible, and when Quan removes his hands the wind dragon has its spread jaws clamped onto Edger’s neck anew.

“Thank you, Quan,” the voice made of wind and piped through Ku says to the attendant. “You may leave us now.”

“Of course.”

Quan bows and strides away from the lounger, past Dyeawan, whispering to her, “Used and discarded daily, that’s me.”

He punctuates his words with a wink, and she can’t help giggling.

If Edger heard the statement, he must be accustomed to such things.

“Good day, my dear,” he says to Dyeawan. “Thank you for your patience.”

“Oh no, it’s very interesting to me.”

“I’ve always believed we need only use the resources we’ve been given.”

Edger holds the mask to his face he wears for conversation, a passive, friendly visage that doesn’t express any particular emotion.

“Now, how did you find your week of tests?” Edger asks her.

Dyeawan’s breath catches briefly. She was both hopeful and fearful this would be the topic he wanted to discuss.

“Challenging,” she answers carefully.

Edger’s empty, haunting form of laughter is expelled from Ku’s spine hollows.

“I doubt that very much,” he says. “In fact, I have come to believe nothing is challenging for the likes of you.”

Dyeawan’s brows furrow. “I don’t understand.”

“Slider, my dear, simply said, yours is easily the most naturally keen mind I have ever known.”

She is no less confused. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“There is nothing to be said. It is not praise. It is the truth.”