After that night in the dining room, many free hours of my days were spent with Síle. Conversing with her was good practice, adding to what I was learning with all of my paper copying.

I showed her my sketches of Vancouver, and her mouth dropped open.

"That's it, yes," she said.

After that, I showed her the page of thumbnail sketches about what I saw, and once again, she confirmed that it was from her home.

"That's An Gleann, all right."

I had no idea what had happened, but I still craved more magic. And thanks to that spark, Síle and I had a connection that was deeper than I'd expected to form in my time in Fleuve Clair.

"Your copy work has become very good," Daire said to me the next day. I was sitting at what I'd come to think of as "my desk" in the scribe area of the guild. He handed me a little jingling cloth sack. "This week's pay. A bit early, but that's okay. You have a friend to shop with, now." He winked at me.

I could feel myself blushing. Of course he was talking about Síle. Who else could he mean?

I wanted to say, "We're just friends!" But Daire hadn't called her my girlfriend or anything, so I really had no comeback. The smile on his face said that that was what he'd meant, but I had nothing to which I could respond.

"Thank you," I replied finally, and I gave him a little bow.

Coins. Hooboy. How long had it been since I did anything but tap my phone?

Síle and I left the guild around lunch time, planning to stop at a sandwich shop that she was particularly fond of.

I still felt conspicuous, but less than I did before. I had left my guild sash in my room, but I still wore the slightly faded indigo tunic and darker indigo pants, plus my hiking boots.

Síle hadn't laughed at me when I'd emerged, so I guess that was something.

Walking around town with a resident, I felt like I was seeing the sights anew. She pointed out things I hadn't noticed, like little yellow, metal post boxes here and there.

"Each day," she said, "the letters are taken to An Lien."

"An Lien?" I asked. I hadn't heard that one.

"I will show you later," Síle replied with a smile.

On a street corner, a musician sat busking next to his instrument case. He played a spritely tune that might have been a jig, but with a scale that was somehow different, on an instrument that looked like a love-child between a guitar and a fiddle. He held it like a guitar, but he was also bowing it with a very short bow. I would've put something in his case, but I hadn't had a chance to get any change, yet. For that matter, I didn't really even know what the number values meant. I could be holding a pittance or a fortune.

One thing I'd noticed in Fleuve Clair was the lack of cars barrelling around every corner, threatening to knock over pedestrians if they didn't dodge. The streets took on a totally different vibe when almost all of the traffic, besides the occasional horse, was pedestrian. I'd never realized how much space and visual clutter was being spent on cars back on Earth. Instead of narrow sidewalks, the entire street was one big sidewalk. It turned the whole affair into something like a street faire.

"There it is!" Síle said, pointing.

A shop down at the next street corner had a sign showing a fox and an owl joyfully sharing a sandwich. Written around two edges of the sign, around a corner, An Renard é Hibou.

I asked Síle to order something for me so I wouldn't have to blunder through both not knowing the menu and knowing the language only poorly. I pulled out one of my silvery coins and handed it to her. She glanced at it, then did a bigger second take.

"I don't know if they'll take this," I think she said. "Too big. Let me look."

I handed the bag over to her, and she clicked her tongue. "Too trusting," she said with a smile, digging through the bag.

"Wow, copying pays a lot," she said, pulling out a coppery coin and handing it to me. Someone's regal face adorned the front of the coin, looking to the left, along with the tiny words "Bénie Shanaclair" along the edge. A small "10" appeared below and in front of the person's face. I flipped it over, and a larger "10" filled most of the coin's face, along with the word "marque" repeated over and over around the edge, and something that looked like it might've been the aurora.

"Ten marque. For food," Síle said, handing the bag back to me. "Find us a table."

I walked around looking for an open table in the cafe and parked us near a window with a two-seater table. I sat and watched people walking by. It had been one of my favourite past-times at UBC, just sitting in one of the cafeterias and watching people. Thinking of UBC brought me a vague sense of vertigo, trying to line up Earth, my student life, Shanaclair, my scribe life, science, magic. Only a few days into this trip, and this city almost felt like home already. Having friends helped.

I pulled my mind back from wool gathering, and I happened to be staring down at my forearm. On the bottom, it looked like I'd stained myself a little with ink. But that ink colour...

"Sorry for the wait," Síle said, startling me back to the world. She set a basket down in front of me, which contained a sandwich cut in half. I had to admit that it looked amazing. If it had been Earth, I would say that it had a ciabatta bun with corned beef, cheese, and sauerkraut. Except that the sauerkraut would be purple, and I could already tell that the spices were not something we'd use in Canada, even considering the international food scene.

"Thank you," I replied. "Beannachtaí!"

It was what they said before meals as a blessing. In my mind I had trouble not thinking of it as "bannock tea!"

"Beannachtaí!" Síle replied enthusiastically, before digging in.