"'… but a crime to be corrected, not punished,'" the newcomer concluded. "Am I right? Our friend"-he indicated Teldin-"comes to the Great Archive for knowledge, in respect and reverence as he should. He knows not our customs, it's true, but the fault lies equally with you for not enlightening him."

Teldin's erstwhile foe dropped his gaze. His comrades had already taken a couple of steps back, as though they were trying to fade into the crowd around them.

The big man managed to generate one last burst of bravado. "And who be you," he demanded of the newcomer, "to lecture me on the True Path?"

"I am a Child of the Path," the new arrival said quietly. He held something out toward the man. Teldin couldn't see details, but it looked like a silver disk a couple of inches across, carved with complex symbols.

It didn't mean anything to Teldin, but his foe recognized it instantly. The big man's grayish complexion paled even further, and he lowered his gaze once more. "I beg forgiveness, Worthy One," he mumbled, jerkily touching the fingertips of his right hand to his forehead. "I-"

The newcomer cut him off. "Enough," he said sharply. "'Think on what I've said… but do it somewhere else."

Teldin watched as his erstwhile opponent vanished into the crowds, followed by his companions… then started slightly as the newcomer spoke to him.

"You won't be needing that, I think."

Teldin's cheeks burned with embarrassment as he realized he was still holding his knife, ready to strike at a foe who wasn't there. He hastily returned the blade to its sheath. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I didn't know how best to handle that."

"You handled it the only way you could have," the other said with a shrug. "They were out to 'discipline' an unbeliever-probably after a few hours in a wineshop, building up their courage." He smiled.

Teldin didn't return the smile. There hadn't been any smell of alcohol on the man's breath, had there? What did that mean? Did it mean anything at all, or was Teldin's paranoia acting up again?

"In any case," the young man went on, "it's not an uncommon problem in Compact. One of the disadvantages of living in a theocracy is that sometimes the faithful let their fervor get a little out of hand." He shrugged again. "The True Path is supposed to be one of peace, but people sometimes forget that it extends to unbelievers as well."

"You keep mentioning that," Teldin pointed out. "What is the True Path?" He hesitated, then added tentatively, "If you've got the time to talk."

The man flashed Teldin a disarming grin. "I've got the time," he confirmed. He glanced up at the sun, which hung, bloated and red, in the sky, to judge the hour. "Have you eaten highsunfeast?" he asked.

"No," Teldin replied, "and I'd be glad to buy you a meal. Or"-he quirked an eyebrow wryly-"would that be against the Way of the Plain?"

*****

The blond man seated himself across the small table from Teldin. The place he'd selected reminded the Cloakmaster of the wineshops he'd seen on the Rock of Bral, except that it had small tables right out on the street, where the patrons could watch the passersby. It was one of these outdoor tables that the stranger had chosen.

As his new acquaintance arranged his chair to his liking, Teldin examined him a little more closely. The first thing he realized was that he could well be as much as a decade off in his estimate of the man's age. His face was smooth and unlined, and could belong to a man of barely thirty summers. Yet his eyes belied that impression. They seemed calmer, more perceptive-wiser-than the eyes of a thirty-year-old had any right to be.

The only individuals Teldin had ever seen with that combination of apparent youth and rare wisdom had been elves. Trying not to display his interest, he scrutinized the man's ears. Yes, they did seem to have the points typical of the elven race-though, granted, they weren't as pronounced as, say, Vallus Leafbower's.

The newcomer smiled across the table at Teldin. "I have to say something before we take our meal," he said lightly. "Call it a tradition." Teldin's reaction must have shown in his face, because the blond man chuckled. "No," he reassured him, "it's nothing like the Way of the Plain. It's just that I never let someone buy me a meal unless I know his name."

Teldin felt his own face relax into a smile. "Aldyn Brewer," he said deciding to stick with the pseudonym-at least for the moment.

The blond nodded graciously. "Well met, Aldyn Brewer. My name is Djan"-he pronounced it DYE-un. "Djan Alantri, of Crescent."

Teldin shot him a surprised glance. "Of Crescent?" he echoed.

Djan chuckled again. "Yes," he confirmed, "I was born here. My father was a priest of the True Path-that makes me a Child of the Path, as I told that lout earlier, and worthy of respect."

He shrugged. "Unfortunately, my father had the, urn, marginal judgment to fall in love with someone who wasn't 'of the blood'-which makes me worthy of disrespect. It almost evens out."

"You're a half-elf, then," Teldin stated. Djan nodded. "And that's a problem here?"

Djan gestured around them. "Look at their faces," he suggested. "Notice anything unusual?"

Teldin did as he was told. It took him a moment to realize what the half-elf was getting at. "They're all human," he said slowly.

Djan nodded. "Blood is very important to the followers of the True Path," he explained. "If I weren't a Child of the Path, my life might have ended long ago." He smiled, as if what he'd just said didn't worry him at all. "In any case, I followed in my father's footsteps-I trained for the priesthood. But the ongoing prejudice got on my nerves. I quit, and I even left Crescent." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "You know the kind of thing: leave home, see the universe. I only arrived home a couple of weeks ago."

Teldin nodded slowly. That made a lot of sense. Even though Djan dressed like a local, and obviously knew much about the culture, there was something about him very different from those who'd lived their lives on Crescent. "Do you still follow the True Path?"

"In my heart," Djan replied quietly.

"And?"

The half-elf s smile was back. "And what is the True Path?" he finished for Teldin. "It's the religion of Crescent, the worship of the god Marrak, Master of All Knowledge." He shrugged. "The faith itself is based around a reverence for knowledge and learning-an admirable tenet, if you ask me.

Unfortunately, the Church of the True Path-that's the organized, bureaucratic religion that's grown up around the Marrakite faith-has made some changes. According to the Church, knowledge is to be revered… and just about everything else is to be repressed.

"That's where the 'Way of the Plain' came from," Djan went on, "and all the other repressive trappings of the religion."

"I don't know how I feel about organized religions," Teldin said quietly, honestly, "but I think I'd like one that put a high priority on knowledge." He gestured around him. "Crescent must be a dynamic place," he remarked, "always learning something new, always-"

Djan cut him off with a snort. "Maybe that's the way it should be," he said dryly, "but that's not the way it is. That's something else the Church has changed. According to Church doctrine, the only knowledge that counts is old knowledge. Everything that's important-everything that's real-has already been discovered. There's no need to try to discover anything more. Anything you think you find out that's beyond the 'true knowledge' is just lies, created by the Great Deceiver to lead us astray." He snorted again. "Nonsense, of course, and that's another reason I left Crescent: I realized it was nonsense.

"But at least there's the Great Archive," he went on in a less cynical tone. "At least the Church has done something right, though maybe for the wrong reasons. They think they're protecting the purity of the Truth. What they're actually doing is providing an incredible service to scholars from all over the universe. Such as yourself, hm?" he added, smiling at Teldin.