Tinker spent hours in the infirmary, choosing out spells out of the Dufae Codex, modifying them to work with the batteries, printing them off, and casting them. She was learning that she wasn't cut out to be a doctor; having to touch strangers so intimately was still unnerving.
Being weightless was at once a joy and a constant reminder that she wasn't on Elfhome. What had happened when she fell into the Ghostlands? Pony had been up on the scaffolding with her. Had he fallen into the deadly cold and died? Or had he fallen through, like her, and was now lost on another world, or out in space? The possibilities terrified her. She wouldn't allow herself to even consider what that might have happened to Windwolf. There was, however, the dreadful knowledge that Windwolf would put himself between Malice and Pittsburgh, and continue until either he or Malice was dead. She had to get back and help Windwolf - somehow.
The largest drawback to being weightless was that you didn't fall down when you fell asleep. One moment she was drifting in a niche, waiting for some crew to move past, trying to think of a weapon that could kill Malice. The next she was wondering if there was enough black willow left to make lively maple flavored ice cream. Dragons, Oilcan was telling her over the phone, had a weakness for sweets.
"You're going to have to make it." She became aware that she had made the phone from two tin cans and a long string of red thread strung between them. The thread vibrated as they talked, a blur of red, resonating to their voices. Resonation was the key to everything. "It's really easy to make. Just follow grandpa's recipe."
She realized then that the ice cream had been what they needed all along - but she had taken the recipe with her. While she considered this, she drifted through the wall of spaceship. Space, it turned out, was all sticky, sweet black treacle. Here was all the molasses they would want. She could make the ice cream out of this - only how did she get it back to Pittsburgh? Fling it from orbit? No, no, it would all burn up before it hit Pittsburgh.
"Domi?"
Tinker looked up. Stormsong was drifting toward her, a flowing angel of hazy gleaming white. The sekasha had one hand on the red thread and was following it to Tinker's tin can phone. "Stormsong, I'm stuck in the treacle."
"No, you aren't." Stormsong held out her hand and Tinker caught hold of it. It felt warm and intangible as a sunbeam. "Remember."
"Remember what?" Tinker cried as Stormsong hazed to a nebulous gleaming form.
"There's no place like home." Stormsong whispered, brilliant now.
Tinker blinked against the brilliance. Stormsong had transformed to a shimmering ghost of Impatience. She clung to some of his snaky mane.
" Sssssaaaammmmmmaaananana." Impatience's voice rumbled against her skin.
A loud gasp made Tinker turn her head. Jin floated a few feet away, gazing at her with amazement. They were back in the infirmary, the wall beside her lumpy and cold and the smell of smoke and blood omnipresent.
Am I still sleeping? Tinker looked back at Impatience.
" Huuhuuhuuhuuhuuhuu." Impatience rumbled and faded away.
Jin drifted toward her. His eyes still wide as he gazed at her. "Remember what?"
Tinker scrubbed at her face. Was she awake or still asleep? Her right hand felt warmer than her left - like she had held it over a open flame. "There's no place like home."
"That's it?"
Dragons have a weakness of sweets and space is treacle? "Maybe." Tinker realized that if she was awake now - somehow Jin had experienced part of her dream. "Did you hear Stormsong?"
"The dragon's name is Stormsong? That doesn't sound like a dragon name."
Was pinching yourself an accurate test to see if you're awake? If it was, then she was awake. "You saw the dragon?"
Jin nodded. "And I heard it. It said: remember."
"You understood what it said?"
"I'm Providence's child."
"You're what?"
Jin cocked his head in his bird-like inspection of her. "You walk with the dragons but don't know their way?"
"No."
Jin crossed to her side and settled beside her. "Providence is the guardian spirit of the tengu. Each generation a tengu child is born with the mark of Providence upon him." The tengu undid his shirt buttons to expose his chest. Over his heart was a red birthmark that looked like the flowing outline of a dragon. "We're taught the language of the dragons."
A whole mysterious part of her life suddenly made sense. "This is what he was looking for."
"The dragon?"
"No, Riki. He kidnapped me and made me strip. He wanted to know if Impatience marked me but he didn't tell me what the mark was for."
"Who is Riki?" Jin asked.
"A tengu - stuck between a rock and a hard place. Apparently he tried to stay out of the oni control, but they took his younger cousin, Joey, hostage. It put us on opposite sides, which is too bad, because I think we could have been good friends."
Jin reached out and touched the necklace Keiko had given her. She'd forgotten she was even still wearing it. "Did he give you that?"
"No, his younger cousin Keiko did. She said it would protect me from tengu."
"It will." He tugged it out of her neckline so it laid overtop. "But you've got keep it out where it can be seen. So we can tell you're under the protection of the Chosen blood."
"The what?"
"I'm the Chosen one. The spiritual leader of my people. I decide the path for my people and they follow me. Riki and his cousins are all my nieces and nephews. In my absence, my people are turning to them."