He's speaking his own language, but that is no longer a barrier.
"I love you," she sighs. She shuts her eyes. Maybe she can sleep. Elves can sometimes sleep through the day.
She speaks, even when she doesn't dream.
The demon wraps her in a little bit of magic to keep her comfortably sleeping.
And yet the Elven Lands are not infinitely far away. Most particularly on dragonback.
In practice, they reach the dragons' roost by Karahelanderialigor without trouble. The demon sets his love down gently on the ground, and asks Saravasse where he and the dragon might find somewhere to take an undisturbed nap, and she shows them to a cave and they go to sleep curled up together. (Saravasse is, to everyone's surprise but theirs, quite fond of the demon. They understand one another. They didn't speak long when she was visiting his Bonded, but he left an impression.)
Isibel opens her eyes, when the demon sleeps and his magic dissipates. And she feels no thought-echoes. And she sobs in relief and gets to her feet, trembling.
Isibel barely even flinches. There's a world of difference between someone being verbally inquisitive and someone actually prying into her brain. "Now I go find my teacher again and learn Elfmagery," she says, "I suppose."
Her teacher takes her back in. Her same guest house is available.
While the demon sleeps, she can write. She can write all the shuddering confused violated adoration into a book and shut it away and sometimes she can listen to her teacher describing the synaesthetic spell-impressions even without hyperfocus. She learns to do everything, because she has no idea what she will have to do.
She's out in the forest on the second day, trying to make a berry bush yield fruits more to her taste and a different color and in a different season. It's difficult. Her demon-beloved is better at this; she's not sure if it's practice or a better match to his magic type or both. At any rate, her teacher will move on to the next spell when Isibel returns with an altered berry branch.
"I don't much care if you ask me questions, now," Isibel says. "I'm all right while my beloveds sleep."
"Oh," says Liselen. "That's good, I guess. Um so anyway, the Wild Magic has a message for you, again! It says your magic and your Bonded's magic have to work together to stop whoever it is from calling up the Dark again. Which doesn't make much sense," he adds, "because isn't that the whole point of dragons already? I mean, here you are, doing magic, because of your Bonded."
"I have a co-Bondmate," explains Isibel. "If it were more specific, that would be more helpful."
"I'm not sure," he says. "I don't think I understand the message as well this time. I got the part about working together, but then there's a—like a blue flower made of light, but it smells like blood?" He shivers. "And some more stuff I don't understand at all."
"Elfspells are not always easy to describe without words designed for them. I may be able to receive instructions from my teacher about one that could be described as a blue light-flower that smells like blood," Isibel says. "I would hear of the other part of the message. If it was sent, it may be important to me, even if you don't understand."
"I don't," admits Isibel. "It is very puzzling indeed that something so specific to unicorns would be included in a message intended for me and my Bondmates."
"Yes, well, the message is getting sent by unicorn," says Liselen. "There's probably something I'm missing. I was probably supposed to interpret that part to mean something, like I did with the rest. Maybe it means everything will be fine after you and your co-Bonded do what you're supposed to," he says doubtfully. "But that sounds really redundant too, and I don't think the Wild Magic usually sends redundant messages. Especially not by unicorn."
"Perhaps I could help you translate if I knew more about what it feels like to touch a clear well with one's horn," Isibel says. "Though I do not know to what extent it would admit description."