As the light from the soldier's staff faded, Yoshi ducked his head to her ear.

"Ah, there he is," he murmured. "At the end of the pitch, see? Cynn Numair."

Liya followed his gaze sharply, not knowing what she expected to see. At the end of the field she could see someone sitting in a rickety wooden chair with a red cushion--he was the only one sitting, in fact, and had a soldier standing to attention at his side.

She blinked. The Cynn was slim, almost bony. He sat with one ankle crossed over his knee, and his arms folded; he looked bored, or impatient, she wasn't sure. He had dark, curly hair, and a feminine face with a pointed chin and a stubborn mouth. She had expected maybe something fancier, but all he wore was a white button down shirt, an odd sort of green tunic pinned to one shoulder, and dark brown trousers. No gold, no jewelry.

She was silent for a moment, a million thoughts running through her head. She'd never actually seen the Cynn before, only heard of him. She rifled through, searching for something to say, but the only thought that surfaced was--

"He's tiny!" she said, louder than she'd meant to. "That's who all those stories are about?"

"Ssh!" Yoshi whispered quickly. "Please!"

The soldier standing at the Cynn's elbow turned to look at them then. She had dark greyish skin and cropped hair that was a few shades greyer, and sharp, inscrutable eyes. Without a word she crooked her finger at them.

"Oh no," Yoshi mumbled. "I think General Russett heard you."

"What," Liya said disbelievingly, "from--"

"I'd better go see what she wants," Yoshi interrupted, sounding anxious.