There is a certain memory that comes to me on occasion, entirely unbidden, of my first meeting with your parents. Your father was entirely disinterested from the start, and why shouldn’t he be? His hopeless fifth son had decided to marry the third daughter of a clerk, and, while it would have no impact on the family’s fortune, it was also no cause for scandal. But your mother, oh, she was determined to find fault in everything I did. A few strands of hair out of place meant I was disheveled; our eyes chanced to meet and so I was impertinent; she even complained that the knot of my sash wasn’t quite centered.

  My dinner with the Seabornes brought this unfortunate memory to the surface.

  Perhaps I should have predicted this outcome when Olrick came to collect me. I’d just finished changing, and he let out something between a laugh and a yelp of surprise. I tried asking him what was the matter, but he simply told me “Dinner” and led me down the hall. Nadine was already in the dining room busying herself setting dining ware on the table. As soon as I entered, she turned her sights on me with such intense scrutiny that I recoiled.

  She asked me something. I think she was trying to smile, but her eyes narrowed as she spoke, and her pitch was strained. When it was clear I couldn’t understand her, she tried again.

  “[Slow?],” Olrick urged her.

  Nadine gave a choked sigh, then tried a third time, slowly enunciating every word. My mind felt clumsy as I reached for the meaning behind her words.

  “Let me,” Olrick said, accompanying his words with exaggerated gestures to help carry his meaning. “She says, why is there water in bathroom? All over [ground].”

  We stood in silence for several moments as I turned the question over in my mind. The bathroom was equipped with a large basin filled with hot water and little else. It wasn’t clear to me, precisely, where or how I was to clean myself before getting into the tub. Seeing no better alternative, I decided to scrub up on the floor next to the bath, scooping up bathwater with both hands to pour over myself.

  Consequently, yes, there was a great deal of water on the floor when I was done.

  “It is bad?” I offered.

  “Water in bath, good,” Olrick replied. “Water on floor, bad.”

  I didn’t care to be spoken to as if I were a child, but at least I could understand him. More pressingly, this was a reminder that I could take nothing for granted in this strange world—not even the rules around personal hygiene.

  Then again, I perhaps could have noticed that there was no drain in the bathroom floor.

  “I am sorry,” I said with a bow. I added bathing etiquette to the list of puzzles I had yet to solve, and Nadine seized upon the opportunity to attack yet again. She came around the table to stand in front of me. She reached out, pinching the front of my coat and peeling it back. Her mouth hung open, eyes darting back and forth under a furrowed brow, and she issued another utterance that I couldn’t quite catch. Olrick started to laugh, and she shot him a look that silenced him.

  “Ehm, your [incomprehensible],” he said to me, his hands pressed together nervously. Seeing that I still didn’t understand, he tried again: “Clothes. Back[???].” He tapped his own shoulders, then rotated his hands around. Backwards? Was I wearing this outfit backwards somehow?

  Nadine pointed to my tunic, my trousers, and then to my socks.

  “All [backwards]?” I asked. How could that be? It all felt fine when I put it on!

  She shook her head, then rattled off a series of what I assume were—let’s call them corrections—as she gesticulated madly at my attire. I could feel my cheeks burning from her attention. Olrick stood behind her, shuffling from foot to foot, but didn’t say anything until Nadine ran out of things to criticize.

  When he did speak up, Nadine was still looking me up and down, lips pursed and arms crossed. They exchanged a few words—I did make out the name “Valia” in there, but little else—and then he pointed at my face, making a circle with his finger. I reflexively took a step back at that, but something in Olrick’s gesture made her pause.

  Straightening out some imagined wrinkles in her tunic, Nadine turned to me. “[One night/this night?] you stay, may.” She glanced back at Olrick. “After that, can we talk.”

  This seemed to satisfy Olrick, as he rushed off to the kitchen. Nadine gestured for me to take a seat as her husband brought our meals out (the fatty cuts of meat I mentioned earlier, paired with a medley of vegetables that were almost identifiable). Once we were all seated, Nadine and I watched each other. Only Olrick dug in straight away.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Nadine is [???],” Olrick said through a mouthful of some sort of pale root vegetable. “Erm, that is… Body is bad, then Nadine…” He waved his skewer in the air. “...and then, body is good. [Physician?].”

  “Oh, that is very…” Impressive? Interesting? Commendable? There were many words I would have liked to use, but my vocabulary remained frustratingly limited. “...good.”

  He pointed his fork at me. “Maybe Nadine look at you,” he suggested. “You, erm, body… You in boat, and then… Yowch?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I felt fine, and I certainly didn’t want to subject myself to who-knows-what passes for medicine in this realm. Nadine’s lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. They shared another heated exchange, mostly using words I was hopelessly unfamiliar with, and then turned to face me abruptly.

  “Tomorrow, [and then?]!” Olrick said with a nervous laugh.

  Was refusal an option? Any chance I had of saving your body hinged on Olrick’s help, and I didn’t want to risk losing his good graces. Nadine didn’t seem all too interested in discussing it further, so I simply held my tongue and nodded. Olrick made a few more attempts at small talk, but otherwise we ate in stifling silence.

  The stew was flavorful, at least.

  ***

  I busied myself with making improvements to my language spell well into the evening. There were some peculiarities attached to verb conjugation that I hadn’t (and still haven’t) worked out. Furthermore, several features of our own language seemed to be missing entirely from theirs—and vice versa. As I delved into the matter more deeply, I found that the logical underpinnings of how they communicate must have a few fundamental differences from our language.

  This puzzle kept me occupied past midnight, and so I was awakened rather abruptly when Nadine summoned me for my physical early this morning. I could hear her just outside my door, grumbling to herself, as I endeavored to squeeze myself into a fresh set of clothes.

  I silently cursed myself for getting so distracted by my language studies. Communication would be critical to my success, no doubt, but the physical examination presented a more immediate concern. I’d been operating under the assumption that these people were basically human, but what if she uncovered some actual biological difference between us? How could I possibly explain my strangeness to her without also revealing the existence of Guntao?

  Such were my thoughts as she led me to her office, which was situated along the side of the building closest to the sea. The thoughts were momentarily forgotten as I stepped into the room and took in its breathtaking view of the shoreline and the city sprawled out below. While every other room I’d visited thus far had an aquatic motif, the walls of this room were a warm copper brown that almost reminded me of wood. Shelves lined the inner wall of the office, filled with metal probes and cones and a variety of other instruments I could only guess the purpose of.

  To start with, she had me stand on a metal plate in the corner, then adjusted some levers on an attached device. She had me sit upon a chair and tapped my knee with a small hammer, eliciting a reflex response. She closely examined my face, then produced a metal rod that shined a light directly into my eyes. The entire time, she kept careful notes inside of a small book.

  What was she writing? What had her tests revealed about me? I told myself it couldn’t be anything too unexpected or shocking, as she had affected an attitude of vague disinterest—perhaps even boredom.

  “How do you feel?” she asked me. She then looked up and sighed, perhaps anticipating that I wouldn’t be able to understand her.

  I will admit that a devious smile crept across my face then. “I feel good,” I replied. “Not very good, but not bad. Feel good.”

  She leaned in, her nose wrinkled in what I assume was shock. “You [understand] me?”

  “Yes.” I gave her an enthusiastic nod. “I understand.”

  “Your [words/speech/talking?] is [more good? clearer?], too.” She leaned back, chewing on her stylus thoughtfully. “How did you [more good? Improve!] so [fast/overnight]?”

  While I had anticipated surprising her, it didn’t occur to me that the concept of magic would be harder to explain. It seemed a poor idea to reveal that I possessed what these people would perceive as supernatural powers.

  So I pointed to my temple with my free hand. “Ah, I [more good] head.”

  Nadine laughed softly. “You are smart.” Her amusement seemed to melt away, her lips becoming a thin line on her face. “You may…” She must have veered wildly into a new topic at this point, because my language spell was unable to track her meaning. I clearly didn’t hide my confusion well, because she stopped herself soon after.

  With her notebook raised, she watched me with narrow eyes as she dove into a new line of conversation. “Where are you from?” she asked, taking care to speak slowly and enunciate clearly.

  I shrugged my shoulders to my ears, copying one of Olrick’s favorite gestures.

  “You [???] not say?” she asked. “Or you don’t [know/remember]?”

  Should I have anticipated this? I was so worried she might find some physical difference between us. I hadn’t considered that she might interrogate me! If only I had—I don’t know—thought to construct some sort of backstory to explain where I came from. To at least lead them away from the possibility that a place like Guntao existed…

  It’s all so overwhelming! I’m sure you would have come up with a convincing tale for her. Alas, my answer was not so convincing.

  “I don’t [know/remember].”

  Nadine grunted. She reached out, quite without warning, and felt along the neckline of my tunic. I had to stop myself from flinching away.

  “No [???]?” she asked. When I replied with an uncertain look, she reached down the front of her own tunic and pulled out a small, flat gemstone attached to a silver chain necklace—much like the one Olrick wore. “You are [???]?”

  “What is?” I asked. “I don’t [know/remember].”

  “You don’t [know],” she corrected. Again shaking her head, she wrote down a few more notes. She didn’t look at me as she continued. “You [???] stay for a small [or short?] [time?].”

  When she finally raised her eyes back to mine, there was a glint that I recognized. It was one that I knew well, after all, and it perfectly explained why she was willing to entertain my presence for a while longer.

  I was a puzzle for her to solve.