Ylva has an idea. Picking up the sheet of her messy handwriting, she points to the glyph she hasn't yet managed to pronounce. "What was this one?" "Kh-ch," Magistra Colle says, the syllable sounding harsh in her throat. Ylva concentrates, forming the words, and turns back to the children. "My name Ylva," she says in careful, accented Eldarin. "My name Mina," says the girl, and they grin delightedly at each other. "Jakin!" says the boy, putting one hand on his chest. The girl scowls at him, but Ylva can't help laughing in delight. "That doesn't count," Mina says to Jakin, ignoring the stranger's laughter. "Does too! They understood, didn't they?"