Lord Rayburton frowned severely, but that did nothing to silence the woman. She nodded to Artus and said, "My father is too annoyed at me right now to introduce us. I'm Alisanda Rayburton."

She held out a slender hand to Artus, who took it almost without thinking. He found himself staring at the woman with the same intensity he'd shown the images in the temple wall. Alisanda was as tall as the explorer, with the dark skin of her Tabaxi mother and black hair knit into a dozen tight braids across her scalp. Her green eyes shone with a calm self-assurance and a ready wit, things Artus had always valued in his old friend Pontifax, things that instantly beguiled him now.

"You can call me Sanda," she said, her round face lit with a smile, "but only if you give me back my hand."

"Oh, sorry," Artus murmured. He let go of her hand. "So why were you laughing?"

Sanda gestured to Lord Rayburton, who still seemed rather put out by his daughter's actions. "Father told me you came here without knowing how to apeak the language. I didn't believe him." She shrugged. "It just seems kind of silly, don't you think?"

Bristling at the insult, unintentional though it was, Artus said, "I never planned to come here. The trip was unexpected."

"Oh, don't mind her," Rayburton said bruskly. "She's terribly rude sometimes. When she gets this way, I try my best to ignore her."

"Speaking of being ignored," Byrt cut in, "how about sharing a bit of the conversation with us. We don't mind being talked down to-no choice, really, when you're as short as we two."

Sanda knelt and scratched behind Byrt's ears. "Sorry. You and Lugg will just have to do a better job of letting us know you're here."

"That's hardly their problem," Artus grumbled, rubbing his ankle where Lugg had bitten him. A set of deep teeth marks marred the boot in a rough circle.

"Sanda has more of an appreciation for animals than most," Rayburton noted absently. He was checking the length of the shadows in the plaza. "That's the power Ubtao granted her when she became a bara-animal friendship, she calls it."

"Oh," Artus said coolly. He glanced at Sanda, suddenly uncomfortable. "How long have you been a bara?"

"Almost five hundred years," she replied. "Not very long, not compared to Father or King Osaw." After a pause, she added, "Still, Negus Kwalu has only been a bara for a hundred years, so I'm not the youngest."

"The negus is a bara, too?" Artus exclaimed. "Gods. When am I going to meet someone here my own age?"

If Lord Rayburton noticed the tension that had settled between Artus and his daughter, he showed no sign of it as he turned his back to them and started away from the temple. "No time to waste," he said. "The sun will be down soon, and I need to go talk to Ras T'fima about… well, about some old debts " He stopped and looked back over his shoulders. "Lugg and Byrt should come with me, I think."

"What a wonderful idea. Lord Rayburton," the little wombat said. "I think Artus should spend a little recreation time with members of his own species before we three trek back to the coast together."

"I never said I was going back-"

"Good evening, Sanda," Byrt said, doing his best imitation of a courtly bow. He turned his vacant blue eyes on her. "Your charm and discretion are truly the centerpiece of Mezroan society." With that he hurried after Rayburton. Lugg hefted himself sleepily from the ground and trundled after them, shaking his head.

Sanda watched her father and the wombats cross the plaza, then disappear into a crowd that was beginning to gather around the huge amphitheater. "Shall I show you the rest of the city?" she asked.

"Actually," Artus said. "I think I need to find someplace to sit down and rest." He slumped against the side of the temple, careful not to look too closely at the myriad crystal triangles.

Sanda hooked her arm under Artus's. "I know just the spot. There's a park near the schools-did I tell you I teach history at the schools? No?" She tugged the explorer off the wall and guided him into the plaza. "We can go to the park and talk. In fact… I might be able to lay my hands on some Tabaxi primers, if any of the children left them in the classroom."

She has to think I'm a complete boob, Artus decided. Not surprising since she's more than ten times my age. He looked over at the young woman-at least she appeared young. Twenty-five, perhaps. Thirty at the oldest. Sanda caught him studying her and smiled warmly.

"After you've got the rudiments of Tabaxi down," she said, "maybe you can tell me a bit about the Heartlands-you're from Cormyr, right? I only have Father's word to go on for what the North is like, and I think you've already caught on to how cranky and unyielding he can be."

Artus had been caught up in finding some pretext for extricating his arm from hers. But the feeling he had-that he was being led along like a wayward orphan-disappeared in the face of her guileless chatter. "It's a deal," he said, settling his arm against hers. "You give me Tabaxi lessons, and I'll teach you about Cormyr."

The dinosaur towered over Artus, its bulk blocking out the sun. It was obviously a carnivore, and a hungry one at that.

On a pair of strong, muscular legs, the monster raised its body to its full height-five times as tall as Artus. The dinosaur's forelimbs were small, more like a pair of bird's claws, and they clutched at the air continuously. Its long tail swished back and forth, stirring up the dust on the barren plain. These details of anatomy fled the explorer's mind when the thing opened its mouth. At their base, its teeth were as wide around as a man's fist, but they tapered to needle points. That's all Artus saw for a moment, those teeth.

"Zara n'tomo, karth?" the dinosaur said in a soft, high voice. It reached down with one of its bird-hands and shook the explorer gently by the shoulder.

Artus started awake and yelped in surprise. The five small children standing around him echoed that shout and leaped back a few steps. They were dressed in white tobes, their schoolbooks in one hand, their sandals in the other. All had their hair shaved close to the scalp, though the girls had cut intricate patterns in the curls they had left.

The oldest child-a girl of ten or so-took a tentative step forward and repeated her question. "Zara n'tomo, karth?"

"Oh, Ka… neb-no, uh-nez…," Artus mumbled, trying his best to remember the Tabaxi phrase for "I don't speak the language." It simply wouldn't come to mind. He shrugged and smiled stupidly.

That seemed to be answer enough to whatever the girl had asked, for the children returned the smile and went their way. Their laughter gave voice to the early afternoon sunshine as they ran across the grass. Soon the children had vanished behind the high shrubs bordering the park.

Alone once more, Artus sat back on the stone bench. He and Sanda had spent most of the night there, talking about Cormyr, Mezro, and any other topic they happened upon. They hadn't given over enough time to common Tabaxi phrases, though Artus had discovered why Sanda found his ignorance of Tabaxi surprising. Lord Rayburton had taught her the basics of a dozen languages; his power as a bara was the ability to comprehend and converse in any tongue, human or inhuman. Over the years, she had come to expect everyone to be able to speak whatever language necessary.

Tabaxi had proved more difficult than the explorer had suspected. In addition to the trade tongue known as Common, Artus spoke four languages. Not even one of them was vaguely related to Tabaxi, however, so he was at a loss to find cognates or any other similarities that would make conversing easier. He remained as he had been on his first day in Mezro-at a loss without an interpreter.