It's flying, not directly down, but still very much towards the ground. It does not take long for it to stop flying and start carving through earth and trees. Eventually it runs out of momentum near a certain lake. The thing seems to still be in one piece, which is rather miraculous considering the two miles of destroyed trees behind it.
After a few minutes, a mortal covered in unusually bulky clothes emerges from the thing. All that is visible is his face. He starts inspecting the outside of his space oddity.
I've been thinking about trust, Nick says that evening, Before, you had a chance to order me to be silent and do nothing, and instead you set up a clever clause that left both of us almost harmless to each other. If I told you part of my new name would we once again be equals, so to speak? You'd have no way to be sure I've kept it if I leave and return again, but still...
I'm not sure if apellodyne names require the whole thing like a natural fairy name does or just part of it like an ordinary mortal name does, replies Promise. But yes, if I knew your new name we'd be in a state of mutual vassalization again and I could turn my ears back on as long as I didn't think the apellodyne had told anyone nearby my new name.
I don't think so. But it doesn't come up very often - fairies seldom forget names, and when they do, whoever they forgot usually runs away.
It's obviously up to you. I'm satisfied with my existing precautions and we're managing productive trade.
He does seem to feel better at that. Have you made much progress studying de-aging mortals? Four other people on my ship are also interested in having it done to them. I'm hardly going to forbid it if you're willing to help them as well as me, though from what I've read it would be about three times as hard to learn five different targets.
Would you be willing to spend time near them? I haven't actually asked, but I doubt any of them would mind letting you watch them if you were learning to de-age them. I'm not going to push you into doing more work than you want, but I rather like the idea of saving a few lives. If you're willing and they're willing I'm hardly going to stop it.
It's slightly but not overwhelmingly less efficient to look them all over at the same time.
I don't have any fixed demands on my time but I do need time to, say, eat and sleep every so often.
How does... Three or four hours a day, starting six hours from now sound? They'll probably spend the time playing card games - three of the four make a habit of it. Let me know if there's something you need, except, obviously, any food from the ship that probably counts as belonging to the cook or something.
The mortals who want to be de-aged vary from only a bit grey-haired to almost as old as Nick looks. They introduce themselves slightly nervously. One of them asks how it feels to have wings. Nick explains that she can't hear them.
They do in fact play card games.
She sits nearby, watching them exist and incidentally trying to learn the rules to their games by observation.
After three hours and a bit, three of them leave. The fourth writes 'thank you' on the back of a card and shows it to her.
She doesn't watch while he writes, but reads the card when he's finished. You're welcome, she writes in fairylights.