Kanin Fyre: Chapter 6 - Pitstop

We say our goodbyes the next morning, and Noli hands me a stack of blank papers magically addressed to their inn. She tells us if they leave, she’ll have the inn forward the letters to their next address.

“Stay safe,” she signs. “Zyneth, take care of Kanin. Ink—”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” I sign.

“—also take care of Kanin.” She gives me a teasing grin.

“What am I, a child?” I object.

Ink accepts this responsibility without a hint of irony. Of course it will protect our soul.

My soul.

It will not let anything happen to our core.

My core.

Noli pulls me into one last hug, and I squeeze her back. When she turns to Zyneth to do the same, I’m left facing Rezira.

We’re not going to hug, obviously. But what’s an appropriate alternative? A handshake? A wave?

Rezira curtly nods. “Kanin.”

I return the gesture. “Rezira.”

Yeah, that works.

Noli continues to wave as we leave for the telepad square, turning a corner and passing out of sight. I feel a bit sad leaving her again—but I also feel… content. Optimistic, even. This time I’m leaving, I know I’ll be seeing her again soon.

“What’s the port city we’ll be departing from, again?” I ask Zyneth as we stroll along the canals.

“Windrise,” he says. “But before we head there, there’s a different city we’ll need to visit.”

“Oh?” I shrug the strap of my bag higher up on my shoulder. To think I used to find this bag heavy. “Do we have time for that?”

“I’ve already got the passes,” he says. “We’ll have about three hours between port windows, which should be enough time.”

“What’s the pitstop for?” I ask.

“Your translator won’t work in Dunmora,” Zyneth explains. “We’re speaking Valenian; we’ll need to add Common Dunmorish to your translator.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. “Will you need to get one as well?”

He shakes his head. “I am proficient in Dunmorish.” He pauses, shifting uncomfortably. “Actually, Coastal Signs is the only primary language I’m not fluent in.”

I consider teasing him about this, but decided to cut him some slack. I mean, sign language is the only kind of language I can speak. “I didn’t realize there were many others.” Although, in retrospect, I don’t know why I assumed an entire world would speak one language.

“Each continent has a primary spoken language,” Zyneth says. “Valenian for Valenia, Common Dunmorish for Dunmora, and Cambernal for Mount Shale. Coastal Signs is the primary sign language across all three main continents. That one is a bit of a special case. Since lamia were the ones to invent sign language, and they were also the first seafaring species—well, apart from nereids—their primary language became the primary sign language throughout the world. Though I will say, the farther you get from the equator, the less likely people are to know it.

“At any rate, the four primary languages are far from the only ones,” he continues. “The unification of Valenia through telepads quickened the convergence to one primary spoken language and one primary signed language. It’s my understanding that there are some kingdoms in Dunmora who still speak their own language, rather than Common Dunmorish. But their continent historically has seen more division, so it’s not terribly surprising.”

That makes sense, although it's going to make it harder for me to communicate. There’s so much I don’t know about this world, still—so much history I need to learn. “Got it,” I say. “Time for a language update. So where are we headed?”

Zyneth smiles. “To a friend you might remember, actually.”

#

“Zyneth!” Red's eyes light up in surprised delight. “It’s been a while. I thought you would have lost a knife or two by now.”

“I have, actually,” Zyneth says, strolling up to the merchant’s counter. “Kanin made me a new one.”

I pull the door closed behind us, picking my way through the cluttered shop to follow Zyneth to the front. Red, a scrawny, fidgety dryad, pushes a pair of goggles up to his forehead, his other hand still buried in the guts of some sort of clockwork contraption.

“What? What? You have a new blade dealer?” Red frets, his fingers twitching. Before Zyneth can respond, his gaze shifts over to me, and once more he's returned to surprised excitement. “Ah, it’s you! You look better. Bigger. Interesting head.”

“Thanks,” I say flatly. I don’t particularly dislike the guy—he did make me my translator, after all—but the hungry look he gets when he sees my core makes me uncomfortable. At least now it’s covered up by my coat.

Red nods to himself. “The translator is still working. Good! Good. Needs a recharge, does it?”

“Actually, no,” I say. “Zyneth has been able to recharge it for me.” Red pouts a little at this. From what Zyneth has told me, plenty of artificers make extra coin by customers returning to have their enchanted objects topped off with more magic. Depending on the affinity requirements, not everyone can do it themselves. “We’re looking for an upgrade.”

That quickly brightens him up once more. “A new function? Fun! Exciting. What do you need?”

Zyneth provides the details about adding Dunmorish into the translator, as well as any other lesser-used Dunmora languages Red happens to have spells for off-hand. He also asks for Cambernal to be added.

I hand over my translator for Red to get to start to examine. “Cambernal—that’s a cambion language?” I ask Zyneth.

“Yes.” I note a hint of discomfort in his voice. “What we speak in Mount Shale. It’s my native tongue. I don’t expect you’ll ever need it, as I have no intention of visiting home anytime soon, but it can’t hurt to cover all bases.”

That piques my interest. “Can I hear it?”

Zyneth says something in a lilting tone, full of buzzing z’s and rolling l’s and r’s.

[Foreign language detected,] Echo says. [Activate translation?]

Yes.

And just like that, the sounds gain meaning. It’s so strange that what I hear isn’t any different, but the sounds resolve into words, and those into ideas. It’s a pretty amazing kind of magic.

Zyneth had said, “I don’t know what you’d like me to say.”

“That is so cool,” I sign. There’s a subtle difference between this language and the others I’m familiar with—something that’s happening with the pronouns when he said ‘I’ and ‘you.’ Like there are honorifics attached to them with deeper meanings. Sort of like Japanese or Korean, I think.

“Say something else!” I prompt him, listening closer this time.

He smiles faintly, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous. I’m not sure what this is supposed to achieve.”

“Aha!” I point at him. “That word. The one when you were referencing me. It means… like a kind of affection, right?”

He blinks, switching back to Valenian. “How can you even tell that?”

“It’s used to express fondness,” I smugly deduce. “But there was something weird about the way you referred to yourself.”

Zyneth shakes his head with a chuckle and dismissive wave. “I am not getting into the linguistic mores of cambion society with you.”

“But what if we visit one day?” I tease.

His smile vanishes. “Not if I can help it.”

Before I can pry a little deeper and stick my foot in my mouth, Red returns with my translator. “Try this, try this.” He hands the amulet to me.

I take it. “How does this work?” I ask in Valenian. I think about Dunmorish—even though I have no idea what that sounds like—and try again. “Do I just have to—oh! That was easy.”

Sure enough, the second time I speak it comes out in a different language, which Echo once more translates for me after prompting. This language feels a bit harsher than Cambernal, but softer than Valenia. Lots of emphasis on s and h sounds. It also has a lot of z’s, like Cambernal. I notice those don’t come up much in Valenian.

The Dunmorish voice also sounds like a different person from the voice that’s used for Valenain. I concentrate on Cambernal next, and say, “Testing.” Yep, that’s a different person’s voice, too. They’re all male, at least, but this is going to be weird to adjust to.

“Good!” Red grins. “First try. I’m good, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Zyneth says with a chuckle. “Which is why I’ve got one last request. This one is a bit more tricky.”

Red eagerly leans forward.

Zyneth surprises me with his next request, but I take the ring off and hand it over, along with my translator. Red thinks he can make the adjustments in an hour or two, which is pushing our window, but Zyneth seems confident he’ll be able to pull it off. In the meantime, we step outside to grab some lunch.

It feels weird to be back in Miasmere. I’d felt a little bad about how I’d left Yedzaquib’s library—at least, until he tried to kill me and imprison Ink. Sort of lost my sympathy real fast at that point. But the library itself was an amazing feat, and I hope it wasn’t dissolved in his absence.

Zyneth’s prior employer, Gillow, is also based in this city. Ink’s hackles raise at the reminder. I nervously glance around the crowd as if they might be lurking nearby. Gillow doesn’t particularly feel threatening to me anymore, but I am worried I might not be able to stop Ink from pouncing on them if it caught sight of the nereid. It really doesn’t like Gillow.

Ink scoffs. Of course not. They stabbed our core. They tried to kill us! And they wanted to kill Zyneth. All valid reasons to detest the creature.

Hey, I’m not going to argue with you about that, I think, a little amused by how sensitive it seems about this subject. But attacking them in the middle of a city is not going to end well for us.

Ink grumbles something about it being justified, but simmers down in my mind. Still, I can feel it carefully watching our surroundings.

Zyneth grabs his lunch, a route which takes us by the Athenaeum. There are pages pasted against the side of the giant building, and I drift close enough so I can read them:

“The Athenaeum has transferred ownership to the Scholars Guild. Renovations underway. Expected reopen date: 21 days”

The paper is enchanted so the number of days automatically counts down. Well, that’s something. No idea if the Scholars Guild is any better than Yedzaquib, but at least all that knowledge won’t go to waste.

A little less than an hour before we need to leave for Windrise, we head back to Red’s shop. He’s waiting for us at the front desk, beaming like he just won the lottery.

“I’m guessing you figured it out,” Zyneth says.

“Yes, yes!” Red agrees. “Well, I don’t know. We will soon find out!” He holds the translator and ring out for me to put on.

I do so, activating the spell in the ring.

[You have been subjected to a Greater Illusion,] Echo says.

I float a few pieces of glass away from my body to take a look. My human illusion overlays my glass as it had before. I turn my head, and the head turns too. And then the eyes blink.

“Hey!” I say. “That’s new.”

And the mouth moves with the words.

“Hah!” Red says, clapping his hands together in celebration. “I am a genius.”

“You are,” Zyneth says, grinning. “What do you think, Kanin?”

“It’s pretty great,” I say, continuing to watch myself. It’s so weird to see this person as me. It’s not my appearance. Not my voice. But my thoughts are coming out of its mouth, like I’m wearing a costume.

“The face isn’t very expressive,” I notice. While the mouth and eyes do move now, its expression is still neutral. Less uncanny-valley than before, but still faintly unsettling. I try to think about smiling, and the mouth does twitch up, but the expression looks fake. It won’t fool anyone if I hold a long conversation with them, but brief interactions should be manageable—and walking around in crowds now won’t draw unwanted attention.

Red harrumphs, crossing his arms. “I was focused on the mouth matching the words! And I even got the eyes to move! That is very hard, you understand?”

“I’m sure it is,” I agree. “No insult intended. Thank you for your help.”

Red brightens once more. “Of course! Of course. Anything for friends of Zyneth. He is a good customer. You’ll pay today?”

Zyneth reaches for his money pouch bag before I stop him.

“How much?” I ask. I made a bit of money working with Caesius, and while I’m not rich, money goes a lot further when you don’t ever have to buy any food.

“Four gold and seven silvers,” Red says.

I freeze. I maybe have half that amount.

Zyneth laughs at my reaction, and pulls out a string of coins. “It’s alright,” he assures me. “Save yours for something fun. Like a new coat, maybe.”

“What’s wrong with my coat?” I demand, as if I’m not painfully aware of all the frayed edges, hastily stitched tears, and burn marks that now pockmark the thing. I’ve definitely put it through the wringer over the last six months. Truth be told, I was saving up for a new one, but I keep helping out with the inn and travel payments—I can’t let Zyneth pay for everything.

I turn the illusion ring off to save its charge. “Really, though. Thank you.”

Zyneth opens his mouth to reply, but Red cuts in first. “You’re welcome!”

I’m going to let that misunderstanding slide.

After paying, we head back out into the streets of Miasmere, making for the telepad square. We’ll be just in time for our timeslot to Windrise.

“Ready to meet this void expert of yours?” Zyneth asks.

“Nope. Ready to meet some gods?”

Zyneth grimaces. “Not particularly.”

“At least we’re on the same page,” I tease.

Which is nice. The last time we left this city, I was dragging a reluctant Zyneth along with me on a doomed mission.

While I can’t guarantee this mission isn’t also doomed, it sure feels better to be doing this on equal footing. We’re both choosing to go. There’s no tension lingering between us. Hell, we’re dating.

And that makes me feel stronger than any Durability spell ever could.