“Whalesong Landing’s coming up ahead,” Terenei said, as the wagon began to slow. “I assume you aren’t staying felid, Nathan. I think it’s time to decide how you want to do this.”

  “Definitely not felid inside a settlement,” I said. Heket id a pale-grey hand over my white one in sympathy. She’d confirmed that sensory overload issues were common for many felids; for her, it was rare, but had happened a few times over the course of her life. “Centaur has the most immediately useful skills but it’s a nuisance in buildings. So, human or aquian?”

  “You don’t really have much experience with your aquian form,” Aryennos pointed out. “You’ve been felid since we had supper near the Quincunx, and you only had, what, two days or so before that?”

  “True. But can I pass for an aquian?”

  “What do you mean, pass for one? In that form, you are one. You’re missing some lived experiences, like we’ve been talking about with felids, but that isn’t your fault and doesn’t make you any less a felid right now. And honestly, in your human form, we’re all trying to make sure that as much as possible you pass for a local human, but your experiences with that are different, too.”

  “In other words, it doesn’t really matter because I’m faking it in any form.”

  “That isn’t what I said or meant. It isn’t faking to work at becoming part of something, even if it’s not forever. Being in the culture and role that your life has naturally led you towards isn’t an option right now. Everyone wants to fit somewhere, and it’s understandable to prefer that to drawing attention and questions from lots of people.”

  “Whalesong Landing,” Serru said, “is midway in size between Coppersands and Ottermarsh. It’s a fairly busy port town, not unlike Coppersands, and connected to a school settlement no more than half a day away even on foot at an easy pace. There are several inns, and I have an aquian friend who should be able to suggest a good pce we can have supper, perhaps with entertainment. Jaelis will want to join us, I’m sure, and I think it would be fun to invite Heket’s friends as well.”

  That didn’t sound like Serru’s idea of fun.

  It did sound like Terenei’s, though.

  Oh—and Terenei and Aryennos had just spent several days retively isoted, without a chance to be around a lot of people.

  It was kind of adorable, really, watching an introvert and an extrovert who cared deeply about each other, each trying to make sure that the social needs of the other were met.

  “I’d really prefer that we have some kind of distraction so I don’t have to do a lot of talking to people about things that are going to get funny looks,” I said. “But otherwise, yeah, it does sound like fun. Heket? Aryennos?”

  “Oh, definitely,” Aryennos said immediately.

  Heket nodded. “I suspect my friends will be delighted. Myu would prefer to stay quietly in a room at the inn or even in the wagon, however.”

  “We can arrange that,” Terenei said. “So, with that as the pn for the night, and leaving tomorrow morning so we can get back on the road to the next site... what does that point to as a form to be in?”

  “Do aquians tend towards any sensory overload difficulties?” I hadn’t noticed any, but I hadn’t noticed any in my felid form until we were in Coppersands, either.

  “No,” Serru said. “I’ve already told you everything I can think of that might be relevant, everything I know from Jaelis in particur and from fragments of memories from at least one aquian life. Terenei and Heket both live in areas where aquians are very common. There should be no surprises.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. Honestly, I was expecting Terenei to go on a major creative high with the chance to get artistic on my aquian self. “Aquian it is.” I suited actions to words, then pulled my long pale hair out from under my backside and forward over one bare shoulder.

  “It’s still early enough that I should be able to visit the library,” Aryennos said, squinting up at the sun. “Not long enough for an in-depth search but I should have the option of asking for help this time instead of relying only on my own skills.”

  “The library’s near this edge of town,” Heket said.

  “Oh, good. Then you can drop me there, and someone can come find me ter.”

  “Nathan?” Serru said. “Can you reach the communicators? If we’re splitting up at all, I think it’s a good idea to make use of those.”

  I nodded, found the right bag and pulled out the boxes, handing bright orange chokers to all four of my friends and putting one on myself before tucking them away again. By the time we’d tested all to be sure they worked in both directions, we were in the fringes of the town.

  “I think that’s the clockmaker’s shop there, right?” Heket said, head tilted and ears twitching as she studied the street.

  “Yes,” Serru said.

  “The library is a block that way.” She gestured away from the coast.

  “I’ll be there,” Aryennos said, gathering up his own satchel. “I can’t get in trouble in a library. That’s my natural environment. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find something really good.”

  “Don’t get upset if you can’t,” I said. “You can’t make it appear if it isn’t there.”

  “I’ll try.” When Serru stopped the wagon, he climbed down the back. “See you in a little while!”

  Anywhere but in a city, I’d have been worried about letting him separate from the rest of the party, and might have volunteered to go with him or something. He was, however, an adult, and he had yet to find any danger I knew of in urban settings, so I stayed quiet.

  “Next stop?” Terenei asked, as Serru urged the ornithians back into motion.

  “Jaelis works at the post office. Heket? How do we find your friends?”

  “They have cattle and a cheese shop just outside the town, on the innd side,” Heket said. “They’d have room for Peace and Cheer to stay. Whalesong Landing isn’t so rge that it’s difficult to walk.”

  “We shouldn’t leave anything in the wagon overnight, since that might be an easy way to inconvenience us. Suppose we choose an inn and someone can get us settled there, then we can take the ornithians out to your friends.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Will you be staying with your friends or at the inn?”

  “At the inn for tonight, at least,” Heket said.

  “I... there’s a good chance I’ll be going home with Jaelis overnight. Terenei will want to share with someone who doesn’t mind being cuddled. Would you prefer your own room or a room with two beds?”

  “Either is fine. It’s only one night, no point getting an extra room if someone’s amenable to sharing with me and Myu.”

  “So we need one room with a double bed and one with two singles. If I’m wrong I’ll come snuggle in with someone. Nathan? Do you feel comfortable handling the inn? Everything can go in one room for the moment. I can go look for Jaelis, and Terenei and Heket can take the ornithians.”

  The immediate reaction of apprehension was so strong that it registered past the overall chill that came with this form, but at least I could shove it away. “Uh, sure. I can probably do that.”

  “I think Myu would be happier with you,” Heket said.

  That was unexpected. “Thanks for trusting me with her.”

  “I have no doubts at all you’ll look after her.”

  Serru took a couple more corners, then stopped at a sprawling two-story building. “I’ve stayed here before.”

  Between us, we relocated the portable house, the bag of camping supplies, Heket’s compressed mecha, and Myu in her basket to the lobby of the inn; the aquian proprietor hastily abandoned a kind of rectangur frame set in a stand resting on the counter and a many-coloured array of heavy thread or light yarn, and emerged from behind the counter to help.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I find Jaelis,” Serru told me, waving Terenei and Heket towards the door. “And I doubt Terenei and Heket will take long. We have the communicators just in case.” She gave Myu, who was awake and looking around with interest from her den, a scritch on her head, and followed the other two.

  The aquian proprietor, smiling, said, “How many rooms?” Ens skin was jade green, painted with darker green vines and occasional startlingly-bright flowers, all exposed by the yellow-green-and-blue wrapped sarong; nearly-bck hair was in half a dozen equal braids studded with shells.

  “Two, please, one with a double bed and one with two singles. But please don’t ask me who is going to be in which, because I only know one from each for sure. It’s complicated. I hope you don’t mind cats.”

  En chuckled. “That will do, and the cat is very welcome.”

  Duly registered, which was an extremely simple process of offering names, I didn’t have to move everything to the ground-floor room with the twin beds alone: the friendly proprietor helped. Myu emerged to investigate the area and hopped up to test out one of the beds.

  “I hope that meets with your approval,” the innkeeper told her, and offered a hand; only when Myu had sniffed it and rubbed against it did en stroke her head and back gently. “The window opens onto our entirely-enclosed courtyard, and it’s easy to get back to the window from outside in case the little one here needs some fresh air and a chance to dig around in the dirt.”

  “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

  “There’s an open bathing room on the far side of the courtyard, you’ll reach it going either direction around the building. There are two shared pools, one warm for humans and one for us. It isn’t really rge enough to properly stretch, we’re in the middle of the town, but it’s enough to get wet and cool down.”

  It took me a second to realize that en was simply talking to me as a fellow aquian.

  Because, y’know, right now I was. Physically, at least. Even if I wasn’t currently feeling that way.

  “I’ll definitely need to steal a bit of time before we go out tonight. Thanks. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. Let us know if you need anything else. There’s always someone at the front desk. I’ll send your friends back this way when they show up.” En left without giving me a chance to say thanks yet again, leaving the door open.

  I sat down beside Myu, and she came over for lovings.

  “Think you can put up with this overnight, cutie?”

  She just purred, flopped onto her side, and offered her belly, paws kneading at the air.

  Right. Well. That had gone smoothly.

  The room wasn’t unlike what I’d seen elsewhere, clean and neat and simple. The two beds were each rger than a twin from home, more like the three-quarter my mom had when growing up and had put in our basement office-ssh-guestroom; finding mattresses was a nuisance, but she said that when living alone in apartments, it took up less space than a double while allowing room for her and a cat or occasionally a friend. There was a small table with two chairs under the window, which would make easy steps in and out for a small agile cat, and the usual sink in an alcove formed by sets of shelves, and hooks on the walls. There was a door in one wall, which had a simple tch; I unfastened it and found a simir room on the other side but with a bed big enough for three humans instead. I left the door in between open. Both rooms were decorated predominantly in a soft cream and a deeper coral colour; it gave it a warm feel.

  Serru returned first, and perched on the other bed. “No problems?”

  “No problems. I may take them, sorry, en up on the suggestion of using the bathing room to get wet.”

  “I’ll stay here and watch for the others. You can go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She chuckled. “Long hair takes time to dry. It would be problematic for it to be extremely wet when Terenei gets ahold of you.”

  “That... is a valid point. The window has access to a courtyard Myu can use.”

  She nodded. “Remember to take your communicator off while you’re in the water.”

  The central corridor ran all the way around; it did indeed lead me to a rge room that took up a considerable amount of one side of the square. Arches and pilrs left it open to the courtyard, which had grassy space surrounded by flowers, and some of the flowers were in beds of water, not soil.

  One rge square pool had stripes of red tiles, the other of blue. There were two human men in the former, and no one in the tter. One nodded, the other smiled, and I did both, but otherwise, they went on with their own conversation.

  In between, there was what I could only call a shower, maybe so one could get cleaned up before joining others? Because those pools were each big enough for several human-sized people to sit on the ledges along the sides.

  A rge cabinet held neatly-folded towels in a kaleidoscope of coloured patterns; I picked up the top one.

  Normally I’d go for a hot bath, but aquians did poorly with heat. I set my towel on the bench near the one with the blue tiles, left my communicator on top of it, unpinned and unwrapped my soft-rainbow sarong, and went down the steps into the water.

  Since I had it to myself, I was able to duck under and sit on the very bottom, letting myself be completely surrounded. It didn’t taste as fresh as the water of the Shallows themselves, but it was clean. Probably I would have been fine, I’d only switched to my aquian form just outside of town, but it might ensure that I wouldn’t have any issues with being too dry.

  Plus it felt really good.

  Letting myself swap to my tailed form made it more crowded, and I wouldn’t have if there’d been anyone else in this pool, but alone, just for a few minutes, it was like stretching tight muscles to let them release. Not that I could stretch to full length.

  Finally, I dragged myself back to the steps and forced myself back to having legs. Ugh, everything was so much heavier and two-dimensional on nd.

  My skin shed the water readily, and it only took a moment of brisk towelling for my hair to stop actively dripping. I got dressed again and put my communicator back on, discarded the towel in the basket waiting next to the cabinet, then retraced my steps.

  The door was still open; Serru was entirely alone, without even Myu, but from the array on the bed, she was sorting through the contents of her bag.

  “Feel better?”

  “I’m not sure there’s really anything quite like being in the water and being amphibious.”

  She chuckled. “Most of us get those experiences only one at a time, not in quick succession. It’s harder to compare fragments and fshes of old memory against current reality. I don’t find that hard to believe, though. Unlike the isnd, you won’t have the option of ducking into the water for a quick swim tonight, so this would be a good time for lotion. I’ll do your back for you.”

  “I’m not going to say no.”