"So," she says, "so so much lostful," she says. Her accent is weird, as is her grammar.

"Well," says Veron reasonably, "Where was the last place you weren't lost?"

"In nice bar. But, door breaking."

"... So you used another door and went somewhere you didn't recognize?"

"Door breaking! Thinking door home. Not home," she says, stomping her foot. "And no ones Mommy no ones Daddy no Jane no sister anybody neither!"

"I think I only understood about half of that. The door... Broke... And you thought it would take you home and it didn't?"

"Not so grammar good," she murmurs, looking away. "But door break. Nice bar door go home! But go here instead."

"Well, what's the name of the nice bar? We can try to find it again."

"Is Milliways. Door liking you? Finding?"

"I've never heard of a bar called Milliways, but I can always ask around. How does a door like someone?"

"Door be, instead of not."

"Uh. Where I come from, doors don't just start existing."

"No not start - be where other door."

"... Another door becomes a door to this bar?" he proposes, confused.

"Yes! If door liking person, does more. Door do like of you?"

"I like to think that I am a very charming person and can get a door to like me if I try hard enough. But maybe that's arrogance. It's probably arrogance."

"Well, do thing of make door like, and door open, and I home and finding Jane and persons."

"I can try. What do magical doors like?"

"Um, Shell Bell," says the girl, tapping her chin. "And Elspeth."

"Those are people, I'm guessing. Okay. What is it about those people that the door likes?"

"Shell Bell aura, Elspeth dunno."

"... Aura? What, she has a certain way of acting?"

"Huh? No no enchant aura. Her one of do door."

"You've lost me, I don't actually know what that means."

"Magic!"

"Get what?" asks the girl.

"The magic?"

"Bar not give it. Get other people from."

"So you go to the bar and meet people with magic in it."

"Mmhm! And the ones Mommies sharing all all so all ones magic magic."

"Mmhm. My one none magic, got from more ones."

"Why are there multiple mommies?"

"Dunno. So many of, though! And Daddies. Also three Dars two Keziah two Ariel, one me only, one Pen."

"Dars, Keziah, and Ariel being...? Siblings?

"Mmhm, sisters."

"Okay, so there are. Multiple mommies and daddies and sisters and they all meet in this bar."

"Yes. Got to finding it again, say 'Jane home please'."

"Who is Jane? An aunt?"

"Nn-nn, cousinoid computer person."

"What is a computer person?"

"Is person who not so a place. Jane sort of place, mostly not place. Think other computer persons maybe more place? But not so much place."

"A. Person who is not. Anywhere in particular, but - everywhere? Or. In lots of places at once?" he hedges.

"Yeah. Wish having Jane gem. Jane be part in gem, see hear put do take whatever. If I a gem then not lost, she home me or put Mommy here, something."

"So Jane is a person that is in lots of jewels. Okay. I don't suppose it's possible to find one of her gems?"

"Have to make," says Pen, shaking her head, "put some of gem one the Jane places, keep other piece, can't find. If Jane here I already talk her."

"Okay. So that's out. Door's the only way, then. And I don't have the magic that makes doors like me."

"No. Sometime door only just like people no magic though. Try?"

"Sure, I will. How will I know if I get it right, though?"

"Door go bar, not wherever door go most time."

"Can it be any door? Or only certain doors?"

"Any door. Think so."

"Okay. Well, where was the door that broke?"

"Was back way there - not matter, though, not work now. Go a cows place. Any door same now."

"No."

"... That won't do. Will your parents be particularly offended if I feed you and let you crash on my couch?"

"Pff, no. Why?"

"I don't know, I have visions of an angry winged mother showing up and screeching at me. C'mon, I can feed you and let you crash on my couch."

"Mommy not screech. Mommy sing. Is couch space for wings?" asks Pen.

"I can't fly," he points out. "And I'm carrying my groceries."

"I carry you?"

"... Uh? Can you carry me?"

"Yeah. Not so heavy. Human, yeah?"

"I am human, yeah."

"So, not so heavy. Fly?"

He looks at her dubiously. "You don't actually know where my house is," he points out.

"You say, duh."

"... Nnnot while I'm carrying groceries. It's not far, anyway."

"'Kay," she sighs, and continues walking.

"I live in mountain," she volunteers. "Eyrie." She goes in and peers around.

"Nice many caves," she explains. "Nice cool caves. Singing!" She assesses the availability of backless chairs.

"Do you try? Trying help a lot."

"I admittedly don't try! But I don't think it would be nice to listen while I did try."

"Well, am angel, singing easier angels."

"Huh. Congrats? I'm sort of tempted to ask for a demonstration."

"I sing you song? Kinds songs liking?"

"I'm not picky, something you like."

"Ummm," hums Pen, and then she tilts her head back and smiles and sings. She does not sing in English. She does not trip over the grammar of the lyrics. She does not miss timings or notes. And her voice is literally angelic.

"Am angel!" she reiterates.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize the significance, you're the first angel I've met."

"Yeah. Not so many. Only Samaria."

"Samaria being where you're from?"

"Yeah."

"Um, is angels and mortals, mortals meaning human. More mortals. There a space ship, people think it a god, not though. But do things when singing it. There didn't once was magic, but ones Mommy sharing, so now Mommy has, share more a little. Is - most worlds past of it? But, planet Samaria not the spaceship, not many of technology. Because stupid settlers. Mommy not like stupid settlers."

"What is a space ship, and why do people think it is a god?"

"Is - sky boat! Mommy captain it. And not going sky enough to look, so only singing getting things settlers said was god things."

"... Sky boat. Okay, cool, I might be tempted to worship that, too, it sounds useful. And it does things when people sing, what sorts of things does it do?"

"Drop medicine do weather put seeds," says Pen.

"What sorts of weather? Just - rain or something, or does it actually grant power over the elements to whoever sings to it?"

"Do... rain, or not rain, or wind more or wind less, or hotness or coldness, or -" she drops to a forbidding whisper, "do thunderbolts, but so dangerous."

"... Yeah, thunderbolts sound pretty dangerous. I'm glad they're taken seriously."

"Mommy captaining spaceship now, stop thunderbolts if do wrongly."

"Oh, good. That's good. Your mommy sounds like a smart woman."

"Mmhm!"