Page 47 of Stealing Tink

Warmth fills my chest. And perhaps a bit of satisfaction too as Venus sinks back in her chair.

Lars also pushes his scroll back to the Nomad.

“Let me guess,” says the Nomad, “you’re already fluent in sign as well?”

“Not at all. But I only have to look at something once to memorize it,” says Lars.

For some reason, this doesn’t make me feel better. Acel knowing signs is comforting. Lars knowing them—well, I have a feeling he’ll just make me feel stupid for not learning them faster. Only Phoenix stays quiet, reading over her scroll carefully, while imitating the signs as she practices.

I take my own and begin to read. Most of the signs I went over with the Nomad, which I’m relieved to find. At least I won’t be that far behind Lars. At the bottom, the Nomad has drawn diagrams of what our sign names are to be.

I furrow my brow, point to the chart, then write, These are just the first letters of our names.

“Isn’t it satisfying that all of our names start with different characters?” asks the Nomad. “I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”

This statement begs the question of whether anyone was cut from this crew due to having a redundant letter for their name, but that’s not exactly my focus.

The Nomad cocks his head, folding his hands together in front of him as he stares at me. “I take it you don’t appreciate simplicity.”

They’re boring, I write, then push the note toward the Nomad.

Acel leans forward, then huffs a laugh when he reads it.

The Nomad’s eyes shutter. “They’re easy to remember.”

“Only if you already know the signs for the letters,” says Phoenix.

“Well, do any of you have a better idea?” says the Nomad.

“I happen to like the original idea,” says Lars. I wonder if this is because he hasn’t bothered to learn our actual names.

“As a member of the Guard, we were given names by our tutor. She was deaf and only assigned us names once we earned her respect and confidence. It was quite an honor,” says Acel.

So what was your name? I write.

Acel gives a little cough, then, very deliberately, crosses his arms across his chest, both of his hands making the sign for the first letter of his name.

That earns a laugh from everyone at the table.

“Okay, so this might not be a waste of time after all,” says Venus. “You,” she says, pointing to Lars. “I have the perfect name for you.” She then proceeds to make a dramatic move of making a circle around her left eye with her fingers then squinting. We all chuckle, except for Lars, who simply says, “An object others associate with me. Easy to remember. It will do.”

“The sign for invisible looks similar to the first letter of your name,” the Nomad says to Venus, showing us the sign.

You really are stuck on the first letters of our names, aren’t you? I write.

“It’s practical,” says the Nomad, rather defensively.

He’s not wrong, and we end up naming Phoenix a mixture of “fire” and the first letter of her name, as well.

I have one for you, I say, passing my notepad across the table to the Nomad.

“Do you really now?”

I take the notepad back and pass a note to Acel. Acel frowns, concentrating. “That’s an odd one,” he says, but he shows me the sign anyway.

The Nomad’s face turns to ice, but he recovers quickly enough. “Urn. Because of my seal, I suppose?”

I’m a tad disappointed he doesn’t give away any more than that, but I’m not going to push the subject in front of everyone.