"-'Ah, yes, fire cooks things and cooked food is delicious, surely it will be better if I put the fire in the food- Oh, bother, why is it black and crumbling now?' I make a good act of wishing to know the mysteries of the universe, but deep down I suspect I do not actually want to know. If you understand my meaning."

"I think I do. Although there are a lot of things that, rendered in Correspondence, make humans start gibbering madly, but I can summarize harmlessly--being precisely half human is very useful sometimes--"

"Most of us must be content with the power granted to us by our own minds, bodies, and the occasional bit of engineering."

"But aside from the dangers there isn't any reason Correspondence couldn't be part of engineering! It's a part of the universe same as any other, there's no fundamental reason why it can't be understood and harnessed like lightning was." 

"I know a lad who likes to put, ah, An inevitable return to the place one began on his locomotives."

"Hah! Not a bad idea. Not a guarantee, but not a bad idea." 

"Of course, one time the whole locomotive caught on white fire and burned to ash, even the metal. I think it was an accident during repainting."

"Yeah, that'll happen. Is he okay, did he manage to replace it?" 

"He survived, but his new locomotive is less impressive."

"Well, better than losing a locomotive while away, so the risk may still have been worth it."

"Perhaps so! Though most of us would rather put their faith in steel and gunpowder, I imagine."

"Not a bad choice, given the comparative levels of knowledge on them."

"Quite. When you're finished with that tea, sadly the cafe would like their cup back, but afterwards I would like to invite you to my apartment entirely without romantic or nefarious intent. Instead, with academic intent."

"That sounds lovely." She finishes her tea and puts the cup down. 

The Reckless Chronicler's apartment is fairly neat, all things considered. It doesn't contain many things other than books. He has a great many sigils he would appreciate translations for.

She can translate all of them. Occasionally she pronounces one in her odd crystals-in-water voice. 

He refrains from any attempts to use Correspondence, but questions her about the theory and grammar, such as it is.

Theory she can provide. Grammar mostly isn't exactly, not in the way normal languages have it, too much of the meaning is packed into the characters themselves, but the order of sigils changes the context.

Eventually it will be night. The Reckless Chronicler has industrial quantities of coffee in a cupboard and isn't slowing down.

"I have a friend who'll be worrying about me, I should go." 

"My good fortune cannot last forever. No matter - months of progress in a single evening is fine with me. Be safe." He grins sideways. "For others, I mean, not on account of yourself."

"I will." 

She returns to the hotel. 

June is in the place's utility room off to the side of the front desk, talking with the owner.

"-Look, it's just really old. You need good parts or a new one. Nothing I can do."

"Well, you said you could fix it."

"I said I'd look. I looked. I paid for my room, so..."

"You're not getting your money back."

"Of course not," rolling her eyes. "Lucy! My friend's here, so-"

"Yeah, go on, go on. You know there's not gonna be any hot water, since you're looking at-"

"Yeah sure," June says, pushing past the guy.

"Management being obnoxious?" she murmurs. 

"I don't actually care what he thinks about me, we're staying here one night. Almost want you to glow at him out of, like, anti-spite. Does that even make sense? Anyway, how did things go? I heard a bit of commotion a while ago."