If I wanted an up-close look at one of the vehicles, I only had to descend the staircase from the balcony, which Skallagrim and I did now. Because below the balcony was Zev’s outdoor workshop, where she both built and repaired them.

“Oh, you’re up!” called Zev, straightening from where she’d been bent over working on a Bohnebregg bike. Her hair was not as short as Jolakaia’s, but was cut in a blunt sweep at her shoulders. She tossed down the tool she’d been using and pushed a pair of protective goggles up onto the top of her head like a headband. Her blue scales were dusty with dirt kicked up from the road, and I wondered how long she’d already been working out here while we’d been sleeping.

“Good morning,” I said in choppy Bohnebregg. It looked like it took her a minute to figure out what I’d tried to say, then she flashed her long fangs in a smile.

“Kaia’s got food for you somewhere in there,” she said, wiping her clawed hands on a leather apron then jerking her snout towards an open window. Then she went to it and called inside. “Queen Kaia! They’re up!”

“Queen Kaia?” I repeated slowly, casting first Zev, then Skallagrim a questioning look.

“Jolakaia,” Zev clarified. “Queen of this house, my heart, and therefore the entire world as I know it.”

Zev’s beloved queen emerged a few seconds later, wearing the robes of a Mother’s Hand instead of those of a monarch. In her hands she carried a tray laden with food. Zev gave a low cheer, then tried to grab something off the tray, but Jolakaia turned with a surprising grace, spinning until the tray was out of reach.

Jolakaia made a distinctly reptilian tsk sound.

“You’ve already had a double portion!” she said. “And you know you have to clean your claws and wipe your scales after you’ve been working with the metal before you eat! I don’t want to have to get the blood-cleansers out because you’ve ingested too much of the dust again!”

Zev gave a lazy grin, hopped right over the bike she’d been working on, bumped her snout lovingly to the side of Jolakaia’s head, and then headed around the side of the house towards the door at the front. Jolakaia watched her go with a look of long-suffering affection, as if she were wondering how she’d gotten so lucky and, simultaneously, how she was going to survive the woman who’d just gone inside the house.

Once satisfied that Zev wasn’t going to give herself metal poisoning, she turned back towards us with the food – beautiful, big, fat pastries.

“They’re stuffed with fish and egg. And those little mollusks that glue themselves to river rock. Did you encounter any of those when you were out there? They’re rare around here these days, but very good.”

I accepted a pastry gratefully and bit into it. The outer dough wasn’t at all the texture I was expecting – it was much firmer, almost cracker-like – but still delicious.

“I did not notice them,” Skallagrim responded. He watched me eat for a moment, his eye lingering on my mouth, then took a pastry for himself. He popped the thing into his snout whole, like it was nothing but a puff of popcorn.

“You and Zev eat the same way, Skalla,” Jolakaia said, giving a resigned sort of smirk.

“I didn’t know your name could be shortened to Skalla,” I said, feeling a frown pucker the spot between my brows.

Skallagrim tossed his snout, his version of a shrug.

“You may call me that, if you wish.” He did his snout-shrug thing again. “You may call me whatever you like.”

I realized I was still frowning. I wasn’t exactly jealous, per se. Jolakaia had been an amazing friend to both of us, not to mention the fact that she was related by blood to Skallagrim and was very happily married to someone else. But still, something about it irked me. It didn’t bother me that she had a nickname for Skallagrim.

It bothered me that I didn’t. There was a less formal, more intimate way of addressing him, and I’d had no idea. A casual friend would have known something like that, let alone the person who was supposed to be his mate.

“Skalla,” I said slowly. Then, with a small smile, “I like it.”

“I like hearing you say it.” A huskiness had entered his voice. Jolakaia, who could only follow half the conversation, backed subtly away to give us some privacy. But I didn’t want her to feel awkward. She’d housed us, given us clothes, and brought us the most amazing breakfast.

“Thank you so much for the food,” I said to her in Bohnebregg. As I spoke, Zev careened around the side of the house, claws already outstretched for a pastry from the tray.

“Was that Bohnebregg?” Zev quipped. Jolakaia snatched the tray away until she’d given her wife a good, long look. Zev’s apron was gone, and her hands and scales looked freshly washed. Zev was finally awarded a pastry. She popped it into her snout the exact same way Skalla had, swallowed, then looked at me. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to get old Skalla here to translate for you. I didn’t understand a single word that came out of that strange little mouth.”

“Old?” Skalla said. I caught the warning in his voice, but Zev didn’t. She snagged another pastry.

“Yes. Aren’t you? Old, that is? Kaia said you’ve been around for hundreds of strides of the Mother.” After swallowing her next pastry, she grinned. “Do not worry. Your scales have held up quite well for your age! Not as good-looking as your lovely Suvi, especially with the whole eye situation.” She gestured at Skalla’s scars, and Jolakaia looked like she wanted to slam her tray into her own face in embarrassment.

“I am sure Skalla is well aware of both his appearance and his age,” she said, sounding pained.

Skalla’s brow was drawn so low over his eye it looked like his scales might crack under the force of his expression. I patted his arm with gentle sympathy while trying not to laugh. There was truly no one, except perhaps Zev, who could look at him and see anything but a magnificent male specimen. But him getting all worked over the matter up was both funny and endearing.

“Don’t worry. I still think you look nice,” I whispered. Luckily, since I’d already said the same thing this morning, he had to be inclined to believe me instead of assuming I was trying to placate him now. Slowly, the look on his face morphed into something mostly neutral. Zev, completely unperturbed, reached for the tray once more only to find it empty.

“There are more inside,” Jolakaia said with a sighing laugh, already anticipating her wife’s question.

Zev took the empty tray and bounded away once more.

“And what will you two do today?” Jolakaia said. “I will be leaving for the temple soon. You are welcome to stay here, of course, either upstairs or down here with Zev. I’m sure she would appreciate the company. Though I will warn you, she will either talk your brains right out of your skull without stopping for breath, or she will become so hyper-fixated on her work that she will ignore you completely. There is no in between.”

I snorted when I saw Skalla’s reaction to that. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His face did all the talking for him. He looked like he wanted to stay here and listen to more of Zev’s quips about how sort of OK-looking he was (for his age of course) like he wanted a spray of acid in his remaining eye.

“Skalla can do whatever he likes,” I said with a low chuckle, “but I was actually hoping to come with you to the temple, if that’s alright.”

Skalla looked surprised by that, and so did Jolakaia once he’d translated. I flushed under their questioning gazes.

“I just... I think I can help you,” I said quickly, feeling oddly defensive. “I know a lot of people got hurt when we... um... arrived here. I’d like to contribute to the temple in some way to at least try to make up for it. To atone. I’m good with plants, and I’ve worked in labs. I’m sure I could assist with mixing up the medications.”