"Guards from the Schell-Peng."

"No." She was positive. "They weren't from the laboratory. Those that came later, maybe, but not the ones waiting at the gate. They didn't try to stop the others and had no interest in the girl. They were after you, Earl, and I think you knew it. The question is, why?"

She was too shrewd and a woman with her desperation posed a perpetual danger. Once she even guessed he could provide what she needed how could he trust her?

"You're guessing," he said. "But if you find the answer let me know."

"So it's none of my business. Is that it?" She shrugged. "Well, have it your own way."

Setting down the empty cup Dumarest rose, breathing deeply, expanding his chest so that the thin tracery of scars on his torso shone livid in the light. He felt a momentary weakness, the result of days of inactivity as his hunger was the result of days of starvation.

"I didn't bother to give you intravenous feeding," said Usan. "A man like you can afford to starve for a while." Her eyes roved his body, lingering on the scars. "A fighter," she mused. "I'd guessed as much. Naked blades in the ring to first-blood or death. And you learned the hard way."

Young, inexperienced, earning money in the only way he could. Saving his life by natural speed, taking wounds, killing to the roar of a mob. Bearing now the signs of his tuition.

Dressed, he said, "Where is the girl?"

"In the cabin next to Sufan's. She was in a bad way when Timus carried her in. The shock of revival coupled with exposure-for a while we thought she'd die."

"And?"

"She recovered. Sufan worked on her and Pacula acted as nurse. She's all right now." Usan hesitated, "But there's something wrong with her, Earl. She isn't normal."

"In what way?"

"She-oh, to hell with it, let Sufan explain."

He answered the door when Dumarest knocked at the cabin and stepped outside and into the corridor, speaking quickly, his voice low.

"I'm glad to see you on your feet, Earl. You had me worried for a time, that wound looked nasty and any blow on the head can give rise to complications."

"The girl?"

"Inside. You did well getting her out-but don't expect too much. Remember that her talent is extremely rare, and always, there is a price to pay for such an attribute as she possesses. She-" He broke off, his eyes darting, glinting like the scales of fish in a sunlit pool, touching Dumarest, the woman at his side, the light above, the deck, his hands. "When you see her, Earl, be gentle. It is not quite what it seems."

"What isn't?"

Then, as the man hesitated, Usan Labria said harshly, "Why don't you tell him, Sufan? Why be so delicate? Earl, the girl is blind!"

* * *

She stood against the far Wall of the cabin, tall, dressed in a simple white gown caught at the waist with a cincture of gold. A dress Pacula had provided as she had tended the mane of fine, blonde hair, which gathered, hung in a shimmering tress over the rounded left shoulder. As she had painted the nails of hands and naked feet a warm crimson and bathed and scented the contours of the ripely feminine body.

A warm and lovely creature-and blind!

Dumarest saw the eyes, milky orbs of gleaming opalescence, edged with the burnish of lashes, set high and deep above prominent cheekbones. The mouth was full, the lower lip sensuous, the chin delicately pointed.

A face he had never seen before but one which held haunting traces of familiarity.

"You noticed it too," said Pacula quietly. She moved to stand beside the girl. "Usan remarked on it. She said we could almost be sisters."

"A coincidence," said Sufan Noyoka quickly. "It can be nothing else. My dear, this is Earl Dumarest. He brought you to us."

Dumarest stepped forward and took the lifted hand, holding it cupped in his own as if it were a delicate bird.

"My lady."

"She has no name," said Pacula. "Only a number."

"Then why not give her one? Cul-"

"No," she interrupted fiercely. "Not Culpea. That belongs to my daughter."

"I was going to say Culephria," said Dumarest mildly. "After a world similar to Chamelard."

"No, it is too much the same. And she cannot be Culpea, she is too old. Much too old."

A fact obvious when looking at her. The missing girl had been twelve, this woman was at least twice that age.

"We'll call her Embira," said Usan. "I once had-we'll call her Embira. Would you like that, my dear?"

"It sounds a nice name. Embira. Embira. Yes, I like it."

Her voice was soft, almost childish in its lack of emotional strength, matching the smooth, unmarked contours of her face. Dumarest watched as Pacula guided her to a chair. She sat as a child would sit, very upright, hands cradled in her lap. Her eyes, like fogged mirrors, stared directly ahead, adding to the masklike quality of her features.

Dumarest gestured Sufan Noyoka from the cabin. When the door had closed behind them he said flatly, "A blind girl-you expect her to guide us to Balhadorha?"

"Not blind, Earl, not in the way you mean. I told you she had an attribute. She can see, but not as we can. Her mind can register the presence of matter and energy far better than any instrument. She-"

"How did you know about her?"

"I have my ways. And the Schell-Peng laboratories have theirs. They took her when young and trained and developed her talent. A rare mutation or an unusual gene diversion- the results are all that matter. Enough that she is with us and already we are approaching the Hichen Cloud. Soon she will guide us. Soon, Earl, we shall reach our goal."

A statement of conviction or hope? Dumarest said, "If the girl can't do as you say, we are all heading toward destruction. How can you be certain she has the attribute you claim?"

"She has it." Sufan made a small gesture of confidence. "I trust the Schell-Peng."

"I don't." Dumarest jerked open the door of the cabin. "Pacula. Usan, please step outside. I want to talk to the girl alone."

"What do you intend?" Pacula was suspicious. "If-"

"Don't be a fool!" snapped Usan impatiently. "Earl has his reasons and he won't hurt her. Let him do as he wants. I trust him if you don't."

Alone with the girl, Dumarest stood for a moment with his back to the closed door, then stepped to where she sat.

Abruptly he moved his hand toward her eyes, halting his fingers an inch from the blank orbs.

"You almost touched me," she said evenly.

"You felt the wind?"

"That and more, Earl. I may call you that?"

"Yes, Embira, but how did you know it was me?"

His tread, perhaps, sharp ears could have distinguished it. His odor, the normally undetectable exudations from his body, recognized by a dog so why not by a girl trained to use the rest of her senses?

"Your aura," she said. "I can tell your aura. You carry metal and wear more. The others do not."

The knife he carried in his boot and the mesh buried in the plastic of his clothing. An electronic instrument could have determined as much-was she no more than that?

Stepping back from the chair Dumarest said, "I am going to move about the cabin. Tell me where I am and, if possible, what I am doing."

He moved toward the door, stepped to the right, the left, approached her and retreated and, each time, she correctly gave his movement. A small block of clear plastic stood on a table, an ornament containing an embedded flower. He picked it up, tossed it, threw it suddenly toward her.

His aim had been good, it missed her face by more than an inch, but she had made no effort to ward off the missile.

"Did you see that?"

"See?"

"Observe, sense, become aware." Baffled he sought for another word to explain sight. "Determine?"

"Krang," she said. "At the laboratory they called it krang. No, I could not krang it."