Pan stood at the center of her cargo bay. Sotir sat behind the protective barrier. Moments before, she’d shooed him away, handing off the book as he sought shelter. Now, he and their precious instruction manual would be safe.

“I don’t know if you should try this new method on a circle you’ve only studied once,” Sotir called.

Pan looked through the shelter’s small window. “We need this circle.” She felt her eyes narrow. “Well, I need it.”

Sotir smirked. “You don’t want to study. You want to know Volanter now.”

“This is how they did it. This is how they learned to talk to Scaldin before they were Scaldin. This circle is how they convinced our ancestors to be friendly with them.” Pan pointed to a place on the floor where she’d drawn the symbols of the arcane circle – actually drawn them.

Sotir and she had discovered a helpful note halfway through the arcane book that suggested drawing new circles in chalk could help a caster focus on the appropriate mood. It would have been nice to get that information on page one.

“Alright. Give it a try. I’ll only speak to you in Volanter from now on.”

Pan nodded once and faced away from Sotir. She knew the sound of Volanter and a few words from the Volanter tongue that had made it into Scaldigir’s language, of which there was only one. Pan found that a touch strange, but the Scaldin had been made from a relatively small colony. Pan wasn’t sure how many, but in that regard, the Scaldin were a bit like the Iruedians – small initial groups that became something bigger.

It turned out that the Volanters liked to call upon little defenseless colonies.

Pan took a deep breath and let her anger fade away. She traced the drawn runes with her eyes and watched as light entered her sketch work. Pan had the circle in place. It answered her call. Now, she would try listening to it.

It had a gentle feel and seemed to tickle her head, under her scalp. A space seemed to be missing in the circle, and Pan knew that was the space for the language she needed to learn: Volanter.

Pan let random Volanter words flit through her memory. She let random Volanter writings follow. Pan felt her eyes glaze, and the circle started to glow stronger.

The circle jumped from its place on the floor to form a ring around Pan. She felt her eyes widen. She worried she might have killed the effect, but the spell had been cast.

Light from the runes trailed upward, and Pan heard whispered Volanter words, rising with the particles of light. She looked side to side, trying to see beyond the circle’s influence. She couldn’t.

The whispers grew louder. Pan put her hands to her head. The light grew stronger, so she closed her eyes. Soon, her lids couldn’t block it, and Pan saw the light straining through her skin. The Volanter words shouted, forming sentences.

Then, all was quiet. Pan slowly dropped her hands. They shook. She found herself sitting on the cargo bay floor. The glowing runes were gone, and the runes she’d drawn had been smeared. She looked at her hands and turned them from palms to backs and back again. She supposed she was checking on their steadiness. She still shook.

Nothing, however, was wrong with her hands. It was her head. Whispers fluttered at the back of her mind. Volanter words now matched to ones she knew.

Sotir knelt by Pan. He reached around her shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Pan nodded.

Sotir’s eyebrows raised. “You learned Volanter.”

Pan felt her eyes widen. “I did?”

“Yes, you speak it too. Can you switch back?”

Pan froze. “Tell me I’m speaking Scaldin now.”

Sotir let out a breath. “You are. I’d say that was a resounding success.”

“Wouldn’t it be terrible,” Pan said in Scaldin. “If I had swapped my native tongue for Volanter – if I could only talk to you and a handful of Iruedians?”

“That would have been awful, but I didn’t see it as a likely outcome. Besides…” Sotir smiled a little. “As long as you can talk to me…”

Pan weakly swatted his arm. “I’ve got to talk to Aria too.”

“Well, why couldn’t you switch Aria over. As long as she can talk to Gavain…” Sotir got to his feet and took Pan along, nice and slow.

Pan felt that her love of mischief laid bare on her face. “If I changed Aria and myself, we could both communicate with our lovers but few other Scaldin. It would be a win.”

Sotir laughed. “I wouldn’t say that.” He touched Pan’s cheek and turned her face towards his. “Let’s test one more time.” Sotir switched to Volanter. “I might have a certain fondess for the Lover’s card. Fond enough to make sure it ends up where I want it.”

Pan smiled and answered in Volanter. “I knew it. You rigged those readings.”

“They’re still accurate, either way.”

“I don’t want to try tonight.” Aria tried to outpace him. She walked quick, not in the direction of their quarters but in the direction of Pan’s.

“It should be safe enough to try Aria.” Gavain didn’t hurry and kept pace with her.

“We’re going to miss our appointments, and then we won’t get new ones for a year.” Aria saw the door to Pan’s quarters, looking dull.

Gavain sighed. “We can get evaluations on the Ischyros. They’ll probably be able to do most of it here. So, if you don’t want to try, at least let me speak to the doctors in the Sick Bay.”

Aria stopped at Pan’s door. She faced Gavain but didn’t look up at him. “Fine. We have a problem.” Aria glanced at Pan’s barren door.

Gavain sounded concerned. “I know, but I think a doctor can help us.”

“Not that problem.” Aria pointed quick at the door. “This is not Pan’s room.”

Gavain narrowed his eyes and peered close. “Yes, it is.” He pointed where the sign must be. “3-12B, Panphila Ithir.”

Aria squinted. Through the dull aura, she could just read 12B. She imagined the rest of it must be there too. “Uh oh. She’s not staying here then.”

“Let’s go around the corner…” Gavain took Aria’s shoulders and started to guide her in that direction.

“To Sotir’s quarters,” Aria said. “I hope that Kat or Chara haven’t tried to call on her during a time that she should be in her room.”

“You know they probably have.” Gavain stopped at Sotir’s quarters.

Aria could see that Pan and Sotir had smeared their auras all over the door. She could see nothing of the sign this time.

“Alban probably knows,” Aria said.

Gavain rang the bell. “I’m sure he does.”

Sotir answered, “Hi, looking for Pan?”

Aria hovered by the door. “Yes. We want to play a game tonight.”

Sotir stepped aside, and Aria entered to find Pan lounging on the couch with her sketchbook and pencil.

“Chara and Kat are going to know,” Aria warned.

Pan looked up. “So what? We both know that Chara has her own little arcane fling, and she’s even married to another man. I’ll just bring that up. And, before you say it, I know it’s not very gold. Sometimes, I just don’t have a choice.”

Aria took a deep breath. She had to agree.

“By the way, I’m glad you showed up. I have a present for you.” Pan smiled and slithered off the couch. Lavender took over her aura.

Irini was tired, but she had to work her way through the map. Alban wanted her to double check all of the Iruedian’s travel plans. It would be faster by her thread than by Sotir’s view of the future.

Irini asked the question: Best routes for returning home?

One thread fluttered in sparkling gold across Alban’s desk and left, to show the way through space. Another thread snaked from her finger and jumped into the map. Its weak sparkles traced a couple of paths, mostly similar to the Iruedian travel plans. One thread lead around all the obstacles, but it was weak. Another thread lead through the obstacles, breaking through at the point suggested by the Iruedians. It weakened after that point and broke into many paths. Finally, all the threads rejoined and led right to the location of the wormhole. The path almost didn’t matter because the destination was true. The Iruedians did not lie.

Irini jabbed the screen with a single finger. “We need to go here. Just like they say we do.”

Alban frowned. “Oh, really? What did you ask?”

“The best routes for returning home.” Irini met his eyes, but she felt an urge to look away from his angry gaze.

Alban stroked his beard. “Ask it if we have any non-Scaldin friends nearby.”

Irini glared.

He raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

Irini exhaled. She watched as her map thread fizzled away. Then, she conjured a new thread by Alban’s guiding question.

Do we have non-Scaldin friends nearby?

The thread danced over Alban’s desk and out the wall. It was strong. However, Alban had no windows, and Irini couldn’t be sure where the Fauchard was.

She pointed ahead. “In that direction, and it’s a very thick thread.”

Alban turned around and stared into the wall. When he turned back, Irini could see a hint of defeat on his face.

“Is that where their ship is?” Irini asked.

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “So, what? They’re wonderful, and we should just trust them implicitly?” Alban gave Irini a hard stare.

She didn’t know what to say. “I guess. The paths they gave us are fine, and the thread is showing them as friendly. What more do want? You want me to ask if they’re our enemies?”

Alban’s eyes came alit. “Yes,” he breathed. “Ask if we have any enemies nearby.”

Irini almost rolled her eyes, but she did as he’d asked. She questioned the thread if they had any enemies that could reach them. To her surprise, a few weak threads, barely perceptible, glittered around her fingers. Irini wiggled her hands. The threads showed themselves, but only with each motion.

“I…uh…” Irini stared at her hands. “I see some threads.”

“To the Iruedians?” Alban asked low.

Irini wiggled her fingers again and watched for the gold. She could say that none of them mimicked the path of the friendly thread. She shook her head. “Not to the Iruedians.”

“Hmmm. Must go to other potential dangers.” Alban made a noise of frustration and sat in his chair. He looked to the ground and rubbed his face, hiding his expression.

“Do you…want them to be bad?”

Alban looked up. “No. Of course not. I just have a hard time believing they aren’t. I’m not keen to trust anyone associated with the Volanter.”

Irini stared. “You mean like us.”

“No one else trusts the Scaldin.” Alban spread his hands. “Maybe, we send off a Volanter vibe.”

Irini took a moment to consider the implication. She felt her face go into its thinking expression. Pan had drawn a picture of Irini and called it Thinking Irini. The Irini in the image wore the same expression that the real Irini wore now, slightly narrowed eyes, a bit of a pout. While Pan remained lightyears away from Scaldigir, she had sold the image to Irini’s mother. Irini didn’t know how to feel about it.

The door to the office creaked briefly.

“Hello, Captain Alban. What do you need me for? Not that I don’t know.” Hagen strolled into Alban’s office. He spared Irini a short nod.

“I need you to check into our new friends’ dreams.” Alban’s eyes shifted up to Hagen. “Especially Curator Rooks. Find out what you can about her. I want to know as many secrets as she has.”

Irini felt her thinking face fall away. Now, she thought she wore her surprised face. Pan would no doubt make an image of that next and sell it to Irini’s dad.

Hagen plopped into the seat beside Irini. “It’ll be hard to catch any dreams while we’re both traveling, but I think I can do it.”

“Good. Rooks’ dream is the priority, but feel free to hop around.” Alban rose from his desk. “You needn’t have made yourself so comfortable. I’m on my way out.”

Hagen laughed. He tossed up a hand and said to Irini, “Now he tells me.”

Irini frowned. She didn’t like his attitude.

Alban paused by his door. “I’m going to get some sleep. Don’t bother coming into my dreams, by the way. You can tell me your results in the morning, when I’m more likely to remember them.”

Hagen remained in the seat. He turned to face Alban as the other man left. “If I need a warm up, may I jump into a Scaldin dream?”

“As long as it’s not mine.” With those words, Alban left Irini and Hagen in his office. He didn’t seem to care what they did there. Alban didn’t keep anything in the office that wasn’t in a locked drawer or cabinet.

Irini turned to Hagen.

He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay out of yours. I’ve got other ideas for a warm up.” Hagen pushed himself up and out of the chair.

He strolled to the doorway, and the low lighting made the hall seem black beyond. Hagen disappeared into it.

With Hagen gone, a machine hum filled the air. The office light flickered as if threatening to shut off from lack of movement.

Irini hurried out. She wanted to get back to Kat and Chara and put this job behind her. She had proven that the Iruedians were their friends. She’d shown that the dangers were only potential, and yet, Alban displayed little trust.

Where Irini left off, Hagen would take over. He was supposed to invade the dreams of the Iruedians that night, especially poor Rooks. Hagen seemed well rested and bright-eyed, ready for that warm up.

Oh boy. Poor Pan.

Irini keyed her door open. “Hi. I’m back.” She entered the small lounge and stopped.

Chara was asleep in the chair. Her head propped against the padded side. Kat was asleep on the couch. She laid out, with her hands crossed over her stomach.

Irini cleared her throat. “I’m going to sleep now. You should too.”

Kat jumped. Chara startled awake.

“You feel asleep here. I think you should probably move,” Irini said, with less force. She left out the part about them being old.

Kat took her time getting up from the couch.

Chara rose from the chair smoothly. “I assume Alban has Hagen working tonight.”

Irini froze, just ahead of the bathroom door. “Yeah. He does.”

Kat rose from her seated position and shook her grey hair over her shoulders.

Irini bit her lip. Then, she hurried to say, “He’s probably going to look into other people’s dreams tonight. I think he overheard you talking about Pan missing from her room.”

Kat made a sound something like a soft growl. “I told you there’s no stopping them. We might as well just get used to it.” She plodded to her bedroom.

“I think he may have manipulated her,” Chara said. “We both knew he would.”

“She’s a big girl, Chara.” Kat crossed the threshold of her room. “Irini. Take this as a lesson. Don’t date anyone till you’re twenty-six.”

Irini looked between the two mentors. She didn’t think they were talking about Hagen. “I’ve already been on a date – before I become arcane. And, I still occasionally see that guy…”

“Mother Tree,” Kat said. She turned into the room and closed her door.

Chara smiled. “It’s fine. Kat just wants you to make a good decision.”

“Well, the guy I see sometimes is a year younger than me and not arcane.” Irini spread her hands. “I’m really not afraid of him. I also think that Sotir is an upstanding individual, and I don’t think he’s done anything wrong.”

Chara shrugged. “That’s your opinion, but he was watching Pan for a long time before she left Scaldigir. I would say he started eying her when she was twenty. I get that they’re happy now. Believe me, I understand that things are not always ideal, but...” Chara sighed. She looked towards the ceiling and struggled for the words. When she finally looked back, she said, “You can see the bad in Pan. But, that’s also in Aria. It’s in Sotir. All tree of them. They are not open people.” Chara shook her head. “There’s a streak of manipulation in all of them. Aria likes to have control. Sotir almost can’t help it.” Chara opened and closed her door. “Goodnight. Make sure you get some sleep.”

Irini made a face to no one. She used the toilet and then stepped into her own room. She thought Sotir was really nice. Maybe, he’d been worse before, but he and Pan had both worked on themselves. Irini liked them both, and she was happy for them. As for Aria, there was nothing bad about her – not one bit.

Irini thought about asking her thread, but she didn’t need or want to. Irini would wait for something it could really help with, like finding lost things.