"I have no idea what that means."

He scratches his chin then says, "House." Then he makes a picture of a house appear on the TV, and takes the notebook back to write it down. "Rainbow." Same. "Bridge. Street. River. Beach." Then he offers her the notebook again and gestures as if to indicate she should continue.

"...you want to learn Welchin? All right." She can't manipulate the TV but she can make fire pictures, at low resolution. She starts with shapes and then does numbers up to ten and then colors.

He shakes his head then waves at the fire dismissively, points at the notebook, and mimics writing again.

...she turns a page and starts writing. It's really very difficult to communicate by mime! My great aunt would presumably have made more progress by now if she could read minds, but I still don't know if she could or not. My name is Kiribel Ardelay. I have no idea where I am but I got here by snake monster, which isn't usual. I'm the sweela prime of Welce.

He nods and does the "please continue" gesture again then makes as if to leave.

Sure, fine. The five foot radius of personal space is because I'm a highly ethical involuntary mind reader! Anyone who wishes to be mindread can enter, it won't harm me or them. Sufficiently thorough barriers block me but they have to cover all parts of the body and do heat insulation; a paper screen or a coat that leaves the face exposed won't do it. I have two brothers. I would like to go home; this isn't a good time for a prime to go missing.

He leaves, and stays away for a while.

She writes. Nothing sensitive.

After thirty-two minutes the man returns with a different man wearing a suit.

"Hello!" the different man says in Welchin.

"Hello."

Armsmaster stands near the door but the other man chooses to take a seat.

"Harold," he says, pointing at himself, then he gestures at the notebook.

She slides it across the table to him.

He smiles at her then looks down at it.

"Hmm... Welce? Is name of... language?" he tries, in Welchin.

"- Welce is the name of my country. Welchin is the name of the language spoken there."

"Welchin is the name of—my?" He points at her when he asks that. "—language."

"The word you want is 'your'. Welchin is my language, it's not your language."

"Welchin is the name of your language, English is the name of my language," he nods. "Your country is Welce, you are from Welce. You have—" He points at the fire.

"I have fire? I have magic involving fire?" she suggests.

"—magic? You have fire magic? We not have magic."

"...what did you think it was?"

"—no words."

"Well, the fire's magic. So's the mindreading."

"—mindreading?"

"That's why I don't want anyone to get close to me! I can't turn it off, so if you get in range you'd better know what'll happen."