“We are to meet Saray at midmorning,” Dulan told Merin and Herne when they gathered to eat the first meal of the day. Tula, who was to go to Saray’s house with them, arrived soon after. He brought their transportation with him, a wooden cart painted bright blue and yellow, drawn by a pair of black Denebian ixak.
“So this is where you get your leather.” Herne appraised the prancing beasts with a knowing eye.
“Ours is not so fine as true Denebian leather,” Tula said, “but it is adequate for our needs.”
“How many ixak did you bring to the planet with you?” Herne asked, adding to Merin, “It’s no wonder Denebian leather is so expensive. The Denebians have a near monopoly on it because ixak are notoriously difficult to transport. When I was a boy there were only a dozen ixak on all of Sibirna.”
“We lost fifty out of eighty animals during our travels,” Dulan informed them. “Fortunately, most of the survivors were female, so we were able to mate them to the remaining males as soon as we arrived, and the herd has grown steadily. They provide meat for those of us who choose to eat animal products, their hides are tanned into leather, as Herne has noted, and their sharp-edged horns make excellent cutting tools. We turn their hooves into glue and grind their bones into a powder that is used to make both pottery and mortar. There is little in the ixak that is not valuable to us.”
“Best of all,” said Tula, holding the reins tightly to keep the animals under control, “is their willingness to pull heavy loads over long distances.”
Dulan and Tula climbed into the front seat of the cart, with Tula driving. Merin and Herne sat in the back seat. They were comfortable enough while moving slowly along the paved streets of Tathan, but once they left the town and were heading northward across a treeless plain, Tula urged the ixak into a faster pace. It was a bumpy ride over a rutted country road. Merin held tight to the side of the cart to keep herself from being thrown about, and Herne did the same on his side. The two telepaths, accustomed to this form of transportation, did not seem to mind the lack of springs or of padding for the wooden seats.
“There is the River Tath on our left,” said Dulan, waving a hand in that direction. “North of the city the land begins to rise as we approach the cliffs. Half a day’s journey beyond Saray’s house is the quarry where all of our building stone is cut. The stone is floated down the Tath to the city on barges.”
It took about an hour to reach Saray’s house, which was built on a slight rise overlooking the river. A servant was waiting at the entrance to show them to Saray.
The rooms through which they passed were decorated in white, pale green, and silver. All were open and airy, sheltered from sun and wind by the surrounding garden, which was planted with trees and white flowers. They came out of the house onto a sun-dappled terrace, where a small fountain played. In the pool beneath the splashing water, blue and black fish darted, searching for food. White stone benches were set about the terrace. On one of them sat a black and white cat, and a woman with long black hair. The woman rose as her visitors approached.
“I am honored that my old teacher comes to me for help,” she said, looking at Dulan. “What is it you wish of me?”
“I think you know,” said Dulan.
“Good day to you, Tula.” Saray smiled at him. ”Who are these strangers?”
“Merin and Herne.” Tula sounded annoyed, as if he thought Saray was playing with him. “Thanks to you, they landed in Tathan unwillingly, out of time, out of place. It is your duty to return them at once, after which we expect you to cease these outrageous experiments.”
“Gently, Tula.” Dulan put out a restraining hand. “Saray is not one to be forced into anything.”
“Dear Dulan,” said Saray. “Always patient, always slow to change.”
“Some changes are best not made,” said Dulan.
With the black and white cat trailing after her, Saray approached Merin and Herne. She was a gracefully slender woman, but older than Merin had first thought. Seen from a nearer perspective, there were fine lines about her dark eyes, and a softness to the outline of chin and throat that suggested approaching middle age. But there was no grey in the straight black hair that hung almost to her waist and her white gown was fastened at her shoulders with round gold brooches, a style that made clear how firm and smooth her upper arms still were. Her feet were bare. She wore twin bracelets of gold strands twisted together to look like rope and tied into a knot at each wrist.
Merin glanced at Herne and saw that he had noticed, too. Saray’s jewelry was more finely made, but in style it was identical to the twin bracelets of a High Priest that Osiyar had worn when he first arrived at Tarik’s colony.
“Do you call yourself a High Priestess?” Herne demanded.
“Others do.” Saray responded with a look of astonishment at the abrupt question. “I do not. I am but a conduit for the power of Ananka.”
“From what I’ve heard and experienced,” Herne told her, “you have great power yourself.”
“Why do you ask if I am a High Priestess?” Saray inquired.
“We count among our friends a telepath who was a High Priest in a different settlement on this world. He wore bracelets like yours.”
“I am pleased to hear you say this.” Saray flashed a triumphant look in Dulan’s direction. “Will you believe me now, old teacher, that my efforts will have meaning far beyond your lifetime or mine?”
“What I believe or do not believe is not the issue here,” Dulan replied. “Your thoughtless experiment has harmed these good people by removing them from their friends and all they know. What you and Ananka do that does not affect others is not our concern. But now you have begun to harm the innocent and the unwilling. That we cannot allow.”
“Do not threaten me, Dulan. My power is greater than yours.”
“While you were my pupil,” Dulan told her, “I tried to instill in you a sense of moral obligation as well as telepathic strength. Talent such as yours carries with it the responsibility to balance it against the temptations of unbridled power.”
“You accuse me of immorality, of irresponsibility?” Saray looked stunned. “I have merely followed the dictates of my teacher, who advised me always to test the boundaries of my skills.”
“To every skill there are limits beyond which it is unwise to reach,” Tula said.
“I would expect that from you,” Saray sneered. “You, who cannot control your own detection of the emotions of others, who have but minimal telepathic talent.”
“Tula has talent enough to cause him to be banished from the Jurisdiction along with your parents and the rest of us,” Dulan snapped. “Saray, we are not here to quarrel, but to find solutions to mutual problems. We ask your help for Merin and Herne.”
“I am aware of no problems that we have in common,” Saray said distainfully. “And what you call a request sounded more like a demand to me.”
“Saray.” Seeing the flash of rising anger in the woman’s dark eyes, Merin decided she ought to make her feelings known instead of letting others speak for her. “Herne and I do not belong in Tathan. We want to go home.”
“And you believe I can send you there? How flattering.” Saray transferred her attention from Dulan and Tula to Merin.
“You brought us here. Only you can see us safely back again,” Merin insisted, boldly meeting Saray’s gaze.
“I did not do it alone,” Saray admitted. “I needed Ananka’s strength to carry out this most daring of all my experiments.”
“Now that you have proven your ability to overcome the barriers of time, it seems to me that the necessary next step would be to reverse your experiment. You can have no other use for Herne and me. Please, send us home.” Merin kept her gaze on Saray’s and held her breath, hoping.
“An eminently sensible scientific proposal,” Saray said. Then, looking at Herne, she asked, “Does Merin speak for you? Do you wish to leave Ananka and the delights she has to offer in order to accompany Merin?”
“I love Merin,” Herne replied without hesitation, his prompt and sincere words ending a moment of anguish for Merin, making clear his preference for her over the mysterious attractions of Ananka. “Wherever Merin is, I will be at her side.”
“I think Ananka will not be pleased.” The corners of Saray’s mouth pulled downward. “Still, because Merin has made a polite request of me instead of commanding me as these two who claim to be my friends have done, I will confer with Ananka on the matter.”
“When may we expect an answer from you?” asked Tula with more than a little impatience.
“The answer will not come from me, but from Ananka. When I have learned it, I will convey it to you,” Saray responded. “May I offer you food and drink after your journey?”
The question was a rhetorical one, for servants had already appeared bearing trays of fruit and delicate pastries, pitchers of cool water, and the ever-present batreen. Feeling desperately hungry in spite of having eaten a large morning meal, Merin eagerly accepted several pieces of fruit, some pastry, and a goblet of water. She noticed that Herne was eating heartily, too.
“Will you attend the Gathering tonight?” Saray sat down next to Merin.
“Dulan has offered to take us,” Merin said.
“A gathering is always an important and formal occasion,“ Saray noted. “Have you anything else to wear?”
Merin suppressed an impolite urge to remind Saray that, thanks to her efforts, both Merin and Herne had arrived in Tathan with only the clothing they wore.
“Since I see by your coif that you are an Oressian, you will want a head covering as well as a gown.” Saray stood, holding out a hand. “We will find something more fitting to the occasion than that uniform.”
“I see nothing wrong with my uniform.” Stubbornly, Merin remained seated on the bench.
“If you intend a deliberate insult to all those who will be present in their finest garments, then wear it.”
Saray did not enter Merin’s mind. She felt nothing like the prickling sensation that had accompanied Osiyar’s joining with her thoughts. Still, she was aware of the compulsion of a powerful will. It was irresistible. Without a backward glance at her companions, Merin followed Saray into the house, to a bedchamber of white and pale green like all the other rooms she had seen, lit by silver lamps, with gauzy white curtains blowing across wide-open windows.
The cat had prowled silently behind Saray. Now it jumped into the middle of the spotless white bed, where it sat upright, watching the women. Merin felt herself released from the power that Saray had exerted over he movements.
“Why did you do that?” she asked Saray. “There was no need to compel me.”
“You would have wasted time in a foolish argument which I would have won in the end,” Saray said, “because, if you think about it in a reasonable way, you will agree that I am right about this. It would be inexcusably rude of you to greet all of Tathan in that outfit.”
“I have no intention of greeting all of Tathan,” Merin said. “I will stand quietly at one side of the hall to watch what happens.”
“And vanish into the background? Is that how you protect yourself? I wonder that Herne ever noticed you.” Saray looked her over from head to foot with an expression that was not at all unfriendly. “You aren’t bad looking. You just need a little help. Now, let me see what I can find that you might wear tonight.”
“Saray, I am not interested in this frivolity. Herne and I have one concern only, to return to our ship and to our own time.”
“I am not being frivolous. Love is the most serious subject there is. Do you want to keep Herne interested in you, or not?” Saray laughed. “I have just the thing, and it has a matching headdress, so you cannot refuse to wear it.” With that, she vanished into the next room.
Having made up her mind that she was absolutely not going to wear clothing chosen for her by Saray, Merin walked to the window, pulling back the curtain a little to look out at the green and white garden and the river. She could hear the sound of Herne’s voice coming from inside the house, followed by Dulan’s low, scratchy tones.
A sound behind her made her leave the window, thinking that Saray had returned. It was not Saray. The cat was gone, and in its place on the bed sat a woman, her eyes fixed on Merin. She was almost transparent, the edges of her shape wavering a little.
It was like looking into a slightly clouded mirror, or the surface of still water. The woman wore a flowing white gown, a short gold cloak was draped across her shoulders, and her face was Merin’s face. In three small details only did this apparition differ from Merin. Her curling hair was a light golden brown, she had no scar on her right cheek, and though Merin could not clearly see the color of her eyes, she had the impression that they were some other shade than her own.
There was the sound of something dropping in the next room and a muttered exclamation from Saray. Merin looked toward the door. Not seeing Saray, she looked back to the bed.
The woman was gone. Where she had been, the black and white cat sat once more. Merin took a step toward the bed. The cat arched its back, hissing at her, then leapt off the bed and ran out of the room.
Shaking, Merin sank down onto a corner of the mattress. A continued clatter came from the next room, along with disjointed comments from Saray indicating that she was having trouble finding what she wanted. Merin was glad for the delay. It gave her a few minutes in which to compose herself. By the time Saray appeared once more, Merin was the very picture of Oressian reticence, eyes lowered, emotional barriers firmly in place. But behind the calm façade she was still so upset that she meekly accepted the costume of shining green and glittering jewels that Saray now pressed upon her, and promised she would wear it.
“It’s lovely. Thank you.” Merin scarcely glanced at the outfit.
“And these cosmetics, too.” Saray was so concerned with how Merin should look that she seemed completely unaware of Merin’s distress. “Use just a little of this powder on your cheeks, the cream on your lips, and paint around your eyes with this brush. The dress has been stored in khata wood, so you won’t need perfume.” Saray was packing all of these supplies and the dress into a wooden box as she spoke.
“You are very kind.” Merin rose from the bed, relieved to find that her legs would support her. She took the box Saray handed to her. “Will you also attend the Gathering?”
“I will appear. I am certain Dulan will have admonishing words to speak about my experiments and I will want to answer them in a way that will calm my friends. It seems I have become the cause of much dissension in Tathan.” Saray’s hand touched Merin’s shoulder. “I am not your enemy. I am truly sorry for what has happened to you and Herne. For reasons of her own, Ananka deliberately chose the two of you to be the subjects of our most ambitious attempt. I will do what I can to convince her to help you, but you must exercise patience. Tula and Dulan seem to think I can simply order Ananka to do something and it will be done. We work together, by merging our different abilities, and we cannot do it often because for a long time afterward we have no power left. The experiments that Dulan fears so much are rare events.”
“I wish they had been rarer still,” said Merin.