Every shape has meaning. The points where we tie the power change that meaning. I take another look at the multifaceted shape before she flips the board, holding it to face skyward, and my eyes widen with realization. “It’s a logosyllabic language,” I blurt. “Like Old Lucerish or Morrainian.” Professor Trissa lifts her eyebrows as she looks my way. “Very similar, yes.” Her mouth curves into a smile. “That’s right, you can read Old Lucerish, too.” She nods. “Impressive.” “Thank you.” “She’s ours,” Ridoc says to the fliers, pointing at me.
