When Speaks First had made it clear that the invitation to the "Place of People" was for Teldin alone, the Cloakmaster had passed the message on to Julia and Djan. Predictably. both first and second mate had tried to talk him out of going alone with the trilateral-Julia even going so far as to call him an overtrusting, rock-headed idiot. But he'd been adamant, eventually "pulling rank" on the two of them, ordering them-as captain-to wait for his return. He shook his head. Maybe that hadn't been such a swift move, particularly in Julia's case. Odds were, she'd make him pay later, one way or another.

The path the creatures were following was smooth and free of obstacles, an easy walk. That allowed Teldin to let his concentration wander from the ground at his feet to the grass-trees that towered around him. At first he'd thought the foliage and underbrush were empty of life. Once he'd figured out what to look for, and where, however, he was amazed by the profusion of creatures surrounding him.

To his fascination, there wasn't a single specimen that even vaguely resembled a creature with which he was familiar. Certainly, it was easy to pick out the niche each creature filled, or the function it fulfilled in the forest, but the details were decidedly alien.

Take the "birds," for example. They perched on the branches of the grass-trees, feeding on the leaves or on bright purple berries, delicately picking the fruit with one delicate, three-clawed foot while clinging to their perch with the other two, and consuming it with a mouth mounted on their undersides. When they flew from perch to perch, they did so, not by flapping their three wings-covered with short, wiry hair, he noticed, not feathers-but by whirling them around their bodies in complex, interwoven patterns. Althrough they looked like small, swirling bundles of chaos, he couldn't help but notice the precision with which they avoided obstacles and landed on the slender branches.

Is everything trilaterally symmetrical here? he asked him-self. If so-and that was certainly how it appeared-the fact that the People matched Estriss's vague description of the Juna didn't necessarily mean much after all. There could well have been two intelligent races on Nex-the Juna and the People. In that case, the "Others" that Speaks First mentioned might be the Juna themselves.

But how likely was it that a race sharing a planet with the advanced Juna would remain at this relatively primitive level? He mused on that for a while. On Ansalon, there were more "primitive" races. But either the humans had "civilized" them to some degree, or-in the case of some of the humanoids-the other races had borrowed or stolen components of human civilization. No, he thought, it didn't seem likely that advanced and primitive races could coexist without some kind of "cultural diffusion" between the two.

So maybe the People arose after the Juna had left. That made a little more sense, didn't it? When the Juna were present, the race that would become the People wasn't intelligent. Perhaps they bore the same relationship to the Juna that apes bore to humankind. When the Star Folk moved on-or died out, or whatever-the People continued to evolve, increasing in intelligence and sophistication over the passing millennia. Maybe magic and other artifacts left behind by the Juna had helped this new race up the evolutionary ladder. In a way, then, if that were true, didn't it make the People the heirs of the Juna? It was an interesting thought. He found himself staring at his three guides with ever deeper fascination.

The trek through the forest lasted no more than a quarter hour. The path they followed led across the slope of the terrain, angling only slightly downward while the hills above and below the path itself were inclined at almost forty-five degrees. Eventually the path opened into a clearing only slightly smaller than the meadow where the Boundless had landed. As the three People continued into the open space, Teldin paused on the margin.

There were more of the People in the clearing-almost twenty of them. Most were roughly the same size as Speaks First and its two companions, but he spotted four that were considerably smaller. Children, he guessed. This had to be a family group, then, or perhaps a tribe or clan. For a few moments the other People seemed unaware of Teldin's presence. Then one of them stopped stock still, a bright gold eye staring directly at the Cloakmaster. In his mind he "heard" a mental cry of warning or alarm-the cloak didn't bother to translate the exact meaning, but its significance was clear enough-and then all of the other People were frozen motionless, too, staring at him. They're examining the "incomplete animal," he thought with a wry smile; having seen the birds and other examples of three-legged Nex native life, the phrase made a lot more sense now.

The stunned immobility lasted only a few moments. Teldin could "hear" Speaks First's explanation that the "not-People not-Other" was a guest. As he'd figured from the outset, Speaks First had to be the equivalent of a clan leader.

Cloakmaster come [pride] be seen by People. Speaks First's mental voice rang clearly in Teldin's head. The trilateral creature made a beckoning gesture with a twice-trifurcated tentacle.

Slowly, Teldin advanced into the clearing, hands open to show he was unarmed. "I mean you no harm," he said as calmly as he could manage, hoping the cloak would inject a reassuring note into the mental message it was broadcasting. The smaller, immature People dashed into the shelter of full-sized adults as he emerged from the forest. The adults themselves, however, exhibited no obvious signs of fear. More fascination than anything, he told himself. Several of the trilaterals were showing the same behavior as Looks Around, rotating about their axes to examine him with one eye after another.

As Teldin approached, Speaks First indicated one of the trilaterals standing nearby. This one [reverence] Message Bearer, the creature's mental voice stated. Message Bearer [respect-honor] memory of People, tell Cloakmaster of past [awe] of Others.

Teldin looked at the one named Message Bearer. Its skin was slightly grayer than that of the others-drier-looking, almost dusty. Its eye, too, appeared slightly different, the Cloakmaster thought, with a duller yellow tinge to it instead of the bright gold luster of the others'. It's old, he told himself. The aged storyteller? It had to be. "Greetings, Message Bearer," he said with a slight bow.

Message Bearer moved closer, stopping a man's height away. Even at that distance, Teldin could smell the creature's odor-sharper and somehow more sour than that of Speaks First. The creature's oddly shaped pupil expanded and contracted, its size changes slower and less precise than those of the younger creatures. This [distaste] not-People, it "said" sharply.

Teldin took a breath to speak, but Speaks First was already communicating with the older creature. Not-People not-Other [respect] Message Bearer correct. Yet not-animal [awe], yet from beyond suns Cloakmaster comes [certainty]. Cloakmaster has questions. Message Bearer [respect] answer [petition-order], Message Bearer speak [order-petition! of Others.

The aging trilateral pivoted to examine Teldin with another eye that looked even more faded than the first. For a few seconds it remained mentally silent, and the Cloakmaster thought it was going to refuse. But then, Cloakmaster [resignation] ask, it answered. It widened its stance slightly, apparently taking up a more comfortable position. To Teldin's surprise, a little squeaking creature-a trilateral analogue of a rat, he guessed-scurried from the edge of the forest carrying a fist-sized yellow-green fruit on its back, steadied by three tiny upper limbs. The creature stopped next to Message Bearer's foot, waited calmly while the trilateral reached down with a tentacle to take the fruit, then bounded off again to disappear into the undergrowth. Message Bearer reached up underneath its cylindrical body, and the fruit disappeared.