"I decline to translate that."

Ranelin giggles, a little. "That means Saerith criticized him."

"Well," says Riale. "I should find somewhere to sleep, and then we can head north to look for Laisanni in the morning?"

"'Sounds good, do you want my help with the book, Kastimund will tolerate playing as my voice as long as we need him to.'"

"I do so appreciate being 'volunteered,'" adds Kastimund himself, dryly.

He looks at Saerith sardonically.

"I volunteer to be Saerith's voice for as long as you need me to," he sniffs, apparently declining to translate whatever was said.

"I'll try to pick up your language as fast as I can," says Riale. "Yes, I would be very glad to have your help with the book."

For a few seconds, Saerith's hands fall still, as the spirit considers him.

"No one so far's bothered to learn the entire language," puts in Kastimund. "Phrases, nouns, and the alphabet, yes, but the language itself is extensive."

"'What Kastimund said, he's infallibly correct about everything and you should heed his advice as if it were gospel. If you want to directly understand me it might be better for me to switch to another sign language for you.'"

"You should know by now that I don't translate threats of violence to my person!"

"If you want to switch languages to make it easier on me, feel free, but I don't think it'll slow down the project any if I just watch you talk and listen to Kastimund translate and see what I pick up that way," he says. "I'm decent at languages and my memory's pretty good. I might surprise you."

"'Well, all right, I'll stick with this one. And before you worry - Kastimund will be clear when he's not translating things I'm saying, he just occasionally will embellish because he's amazingly charming and witty. Not to mention good looking.'"

A mysterious but stubborn gust of wind makes an absolute mess of Kastimund's hair.

"Saerith thinks that my splendor is too great for mortal eyes to bear, she must lessen their load for their own safety," says Kastimund gravely, as he disentangles the mess of hair so it no longer resembles a bird's nest.

Ranelin giggles.

"I think I will probably manage to notice when Kastimund is embellishing," says Riale with a remarkably straight face.

"He's pretty obvious about it," agrees Ranelin.

"I am wounded by your mistrust in my translations, I speak only the truth. If I add truths Saerith is not brave enough to say aloud, it is only for the benefit of the translation itself."