Ulan Dhor said obliquely, "You have a mate, then?"
She glanced at him swiftly—a strange coquetry, strange flirtation there in the shadows of ancient Ampridatvir, the girl in the coarse gray cloak, her head tilted sideways and the yellow hair falling clear to her shoulder; Ulan Dhor elegant, darkly aquiline, in full command of his soul.
"No," she said. "There have been none, so far." A slight sound disturbed her; she jerked, looked fearfully across the square.
"There may be more Gauns. I can take you to a safe place; then tomorrow we will talk ..."
She led him through an arched portico into one of the towers, up to a mezzanine floor. "You'll be safe here till morning." She squeezed his arm. "I'll bring you food, if you'll wait for me ..."
"I'll wait."
Her gaze fell with the strange half-averted wavering of the eyes to his red coat, just brushed his green trousers. "And I'll bring you a cloak." She departed. Ulan Dhor saw her flit down the stair and out of the tower like a wraith. She was gone.
He settled himself on the floor. It was a soft elastic substance, warm to the touch ... A strange city, thought Ulan Dhor, a strange people, reacting to unguessed compulsions. Or were they ghosts, in truth?
He fell into a series of spasmodic dozes, and awoke at last to find the wan pink of the latter-day dawn seeping through the arched portico.
He rose to his feet, rubbed his face, and, after a moment's hesitation, descended from the mezzanine to the floor of the tower and walked out into the street. A child in a gray smock saw his red coat, flicked his eyes away from the green trousers, screamed in terror, and ran across the square.
Ulan Dhor retreated into the shadows with a curse. He had expected desolation. Hostility he could have countered or fled, but this bewildered fright left him helpless.
A shape appeared at the entrance—the girl. She peered through the shadows; her face was drawn, anxious. Ulan Dhor appeared. She smiled suddenly and her face changed.
"I brought your breakfast," she said, "also a decent garment."
She lay bread and smoked fish before him, and poured warm herb tea from an earthenware jar.
As he ate he watched her, and she watched him. There was a tension in their relations; she felt incompletely secure, and he could sense the pressures on her mind.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"I am Ulan Dhor. And you?"
"Elai."
"Elai... Is that all?"
"Do I need more? It is sufficient, is it not?"
"Oh, indeed."
She seated herself cross-legged before him.
"Tell me about the land from which you come."
Ulan Dhor said, "Ascolais now is mostly a great forest, where few care to venture. I live in Kaiin, a very old city, perhaps as old as Ampridatvir, but we have no such towers and floating roads. We live in the old-time palaces of marble and wood, even the poorest and most menial. Indeed, some beautiful manses fall to ruins for lack of tenants."
"And what is your color?" she asked in a tentative voice.
Ulan Dhor said impatiently, "Such nonsense. We wear all colors; no one thinks one way or the other about it ... Why do you worry about color so? For instance, why do you wear gray and not green?"
Her gaze wavered and broke from his; she clenched her hands restlessly. "Green? That is the color of the demon Pansiu. No one in Ampridatvir wears green."
"Certainly people wear green," said Ulan Dhor. "I met two fishermen yesterday at sea wearing green, and they guided me into the city."
She shook her head, smiling sadly. "You are mistaken."
Ulan Dhor sat back. He said presently. "A child saw me this morning and ran off screaming."
"Because of your red cloak," said Elai. "When a man wishes to win honor for himself, he dons a red coat and sets forth across the city to the ancient deserted temple of Pansiu, to seek the lost half of Rogol Domedonfors' tablet. Legend says that when the Grays recover the lost tablet, then will their power be strong once more."
"If the temple is deserted," asked Ulan Dhor dryly, "why has not some man taken the tablet?"
She shrugged and looked vaguely into space. "We believe that it is guarded by ghosts ... At any rate, sometimes a man in red is found raiding Cazdal's temple also, whereupon he is killed. A man in red is therefore everybody's enemy, and every hand is turned against him."
Ulan Dhor rose to his feet and wrapped himself in the gray robe the girl had brought.
"What are your plans?" she asked, rising quickly.
"I wish to look upon the tablets of Rogol Domedonfors, both in Cazdal's Temple and in Pansiu's."
She shook her head. "Impossible. Cazdal's Temple is forbidden to all but the venerable priests, and Pansiu's Temple is guarded by ghosts."
Ulan Dhor grinned. "If you'll show me where the temples are situated…"
She said, "I'll go with you ... But you must remain wrapped in the cloak, or it will go badly for both of us."
They stepped out into the sunlight. The square was dotted with slow-moving groups of men and women. Some wore green, others wore gray, and Ulan Dhor saw that there was no intercourse between the two. Greens paused by little green-painted booths selling fish, leather, fruit, meal, pottery, baskets. Grays bought from identical shops which were painted gray. He saw two groups of children, one in green rags, the other in gray, playing ten feet apart, acknowledging each other by not so much as a glance. A ball of tied rags rolled from the Gray children into the scuffling group of Greens. A Gray child ran over, picked up the ball from under the feet of a Green child, and neither took the slightest notice of the other.
"Strange," muttered Ulan Dhor. "Strange."
"What's strange?" inquired Elai. "I see nothing strange ..."
"Look," said Ulan Dhor, "by that pillar. Do you see that man in the green cloak?"
She glanced at him in puzzlement. "There is no man there."
'"There is a man there," said Ulan Dhor. "Look again."
She laughed. "You are joking ... or can you see ghosts?"
Ulan Dhor shook his head in defeat. "You are the victims of some powerful magic."
She led him to one of the flowing roadways; as they were carried through the city he noticed a boat-shaped hull built of bright metal with four wheels and a transparent-domed compartment.
He pointed. "What is that?"
"It is a magic car. When a certain lever is pressed the wizardry of the older times gives it great speed. Rash young men ride them along the streets ... See there," and she pointed to a somewhat similar hull toppled into the basin of a long, dry fountain. "That is another one of the ancient wonders—a craft with the power to fly through the air. There are many of them scattered through the city—on the towers, on high terraces, and sometimes, like this one, fallen into the streets."
"And no one flies them?" asked Ulan Dhor curiously.
"We are all afraid."
Ulan Dhor thought, what a marvel to own one of these air-cars! He stepped off the flowing road.
"Where are you going?" asked Elai anxiously, coming after him.
"I wish to examine one of these air-cars."
"Be careful, Ulan Dhor. They are said to be dangerous ..."
Ulan Dhor peered through the transparent dome, saw a cushioned seat, a series of little levers inscribed with characters strange to him and a large knurled ball mounted on a metal rod.
He said to the girl, "Those are evidently the guides to the mechanism ... How does one enter such a car?"
She said doubtfully, "This button will perhaps release the dome." She pressed a knob; the dome snapped back, releasing a puff of stagnant air.