Maggie found herself shaking, dizzy. She could not move. Terror held her in place. The dronon’s feeler had left a gray powder on her arm that burned slightly.
The people in the cafeteria resumed talking. Maggie sagged into her chair. The stranger with the golden face watched her unabashedly. For the past half hour, Maggie had noticed that he had been studying her and Orick with an intensity that others in the room could not match. She did not know how to thank him.
The stranger came to their table. He took her arm, and poured her mug of drinking water over the skin where the dronon had touched her, then began to sponge it with a cloth napkin. “I don’t know where you are from,” he whispered, “but you obviously know nothing of the dronon. I envy that.” He sponged her face and scalp. “The first lesson you must learn is that the dronon’s exoskeleton produces a weak acid. They come from a dry world, and the acid coating is an effective addition to their immune system. But if they touch you, you must wipe off the acid to avoid getting burned.”
He set down the napkin and peered into her face, ignoring Orick. The stranger had a strong jaw, penetrating brown eyes. Up under his black hood, he wore a silver headdress, much like the one Everynne had worn. Long silver chains dangled from it with hundreds of small triangles, like some metallic wig. She wondered why he would hide this beautiful headdress under a cloak, but did not ask.
“So,” the stranger said, “my name is Karthenor, Lord of the Aberlains.”
“I … I saw you watching me earlier,” Maggie said.
“Forgive my inquisitiveness,” Karthenor said. “I did not mean to offend you. But I have never seen anyone dressed like you, nor have I ever seen anyone like your friend.” Karthenor glanced at Orick and said with a tone of dismissal as if Orick were a child, “I recognize the species. He is a bear.”
“A black bear!” Orick grumbled.
“Excuse me,” Karthenor said, raising a brow. He looked at Orick with a new degree of respect. “He is a genetically enhanced black bear.” He addressed Orick, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Karthenor pulled up a chair. Maggie could sense an eagerness in him, an expectancy she associated with traders who wanted to sell something. “You and your friend have been watching us, too. I suspect that you find us to be as strange as we find you. Am I right?”
Maggie studied his golden face. She could not think of a lie. In fact, she didn’t know if she should tell one. She knew only that she wanted an ally, and Karthenor offered help. Gallen’s brief mention that another man dressed like this had saved his life inspired her to a degree of confidence that was perhaps dangerous, but on impulse she said, “We came here through the World Gate. Yes, we do find it strange.”
Karthenor leaned back in surprise, his voice so neutral that Maggie could not guess what he might be thinking. “You came through a World Gate? What is your name? Where are you from?”
“My name is Maggie Flynn-from the town of Clere.”
Karthenor looked at her impassively, then bowed deeply. “I am honored to meet you, Maggie Flynn from the town of Clere. I … hope that I am not being too inquisitive, but may I ask what world you hail from?”
“Earth,” Maggie answered.
The stranger seemed perplexed. He stared at Maggie and Orick with a bemused expression, rested his elbows on the table, and touched a gloved finger to his lips. “Which Earth are you referring to? You obviously speak English, so you’ve been genetically engineered to remember our language. Yet you speak it with an odd accent, one I’ve never heard.”
“Earth,” Maggie said. “Where I live.”
The stranger turned his head to the side, thinking. “What continent are you from on this Earth of yours?”
“Tihrglas,” Maggie said.
“Ah, that Earth!” The stranger smiled. He folded his hands, looked at Maggie and Orick appraisingly. “Surely you did not find a gate key just lying around on Tihrglas? How did you come by it?”
Maggie felt inexplicably frightened. It had nothing to do with Karthenor’s mannerisms. He seemed kindly, hospitable. But Maggie froze, not letting the stranger prod her further.
“Ah, forgive me! I’ve frightened you,” Karthenor whispered, and his golden face crinkled in a beneficent smile. “Obviously, because you are a stranger to our land, you do not know our ways. Here on Fale, we are very open with each other. Perhaps you find this … disconcerting. Please, ask me any questions first, if this will put you at ease.”
“Are you human?” Orick asked.
Karthenor smiled, touched his own cheek. “You mean the mask? Of course I am human, by most standards.”
“Why do you wear the mask, then?” Maggie asked.
“To reveal,” Karthenor said, taking Maggie’s hand companionably. “It is a style here. The masks reveal our innermost selves. Those who do not wear the mask may hide emotions from one another, but when one wears the mask of Fale, he cannot hide behind his flesh and is ever forced to reveal his true emotions. Those of us who wear masks can practice no deceit. That is why, among all worlds, those who wear the mask of Fale are known to be trustworthy.” He smiled gently at Maggie, and in that moment, Maggie felt ashamed for having distrusted him.
Karthenor held her hand, as if she were a child, and smiled as he looked out past the veranda to the swallows dipping in the wide river. Children were out on the water now, riding the backs of giant geese. “If you like, I can give you a tour of our city,” Karthenor offered. “If you come from Tihrglas, you will find it quite marvelous. Not at all like your home, I dare say.”
“You’ve been to Tihrglas?” Orick asked.
“Heavens no,” Karthenor answered. “I don’t travel, but there are records. What do you know of Fale?”
“Nothing.”
“Well then, it is time you learned. Our ancestors once lived together on the same world, long ago. A planet called Earth, but not the same Earth that you live on now.”
Maggie looked at Karthenor suspiciously but said nothing as he continued. “On that planet, our ancestors had descended from animals, and there they acted the part-always warring, seeking wealth.
“Eventually, they developed space flight and journeyed to distant stars. There was an explosion of knowledge and technology unlike anything ever before. Machines learned to think. Men learned to hold death at bay and extend their lives for millennia. We met new races, new allies who also traversed among the stars.
“Still there were wars, still there was poverty and sadness. So some of our ancestors rejected technology, decided to live on backward planets in rustic settings. They came to be known as Backwards, and eighteen thousand years ago, some of them settled on your world. They took only the most basic tools-a few genetic upgrades that would let them remain relatively healthy and transmit an inborn memory of English. They took seeds for house-trees and plants.
“That is where our ancestors split: my ancestors were Forwards. They embraced technology and traveled to the stars.” Karthenor waved his hand in a gesture that encompassed the sky.
“How do you know about our ancestors?” Maggie asked. “I’ve never heard these tales.”
Karthenor touched the silver headdress, the tiny triangles. “My mantle is telling me about it,” he said. “The mantle is a teaching machine that knows far more than any human.” Maggie studied the ringlets and triangles. “Would you like to learn about such things? I have another teaching device here.” His golden face was strangely intense. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the silver crown and gave it to Maggie. She held it, turned it over. The outside of the band showed only a single opening, a small window. But inside were colored lights. Two tiny prongs protruded so that they would push gently into the back of the wearer’s neck.
“This is a Guide,” Karthenor said. “Here in Fale, it is considered to be a thing of great worth. I want to give it to you, as a gift. You are a beautiful young woman. You will need it if you are to make a living here.”