“Twenty-nine human years.”
“Only a little older than my most precocious niece.” Jesper finished his drink and grasped the head of his stick. “My car is waiting in the alley, if you would all accompany me.” He rose with Cynara’s help and walked purposefully toward the door. Lizbet caught up with him, but Cynara hung back.
“What do you think of him, Ronan?” she asked.
“He is a wise elder,” Ronan said. “Very different from the other Dharman males. You are much like him.”
“How so?”
“In your assurance as leader, in concern for other humans, in willingness to learn. And in the way you laugh at that which is not obviously amusing.”
“Irony,” she said. “Absurdity. He did teach me how to look at life.” She smiled. “Thank you. I consider that a compliment. Let’s go.”
She took him to another motorized vehicle parked in the narrow lane around the corner, one much larger than the hired cab. The driver wore a plain jacket and trousers in deep gray with white trim. Cynara sat beside her uncle in the second row of seats, and Ronan took the third with Lizbet.
The car moved as if on water, skimming back to the main street and uphill to the Third Gate. Though it was open as the others had been, Ronan saw the rim of ornate golden embellishments embossed into the polished wood.
This was another world as different from Middleton as the city between the First and Second Gates was different from the ne’lin camp. Here the houses were not merely living places, but many-towered habitations with steeply pitched roofs and walls built of colored stone. Elaborately worked metal gates stood around the properties, half concealing gardens thick with growing things and fountains. Men and women in drab clothing worked among the trees and flowers.
The road became much narrower here, winding its way up to the face of a sheer cliff where it made many sharp turns.
“High Town,” Cynara said.
The car took them past several even more imposing estates before it turned again between silver posts and into the drive of a surprisingly modest house. Most of the land was given over to a lawn and garden. The driver parked and got out to open the passenger doors.
Ronan felt more at ease in this place, where even a shaaurin might appreciate the open space and the wealth of natural decoration. From the paved walk across the lawn, one could look down upon the city, tiered between its Gates, and out to the ocean and several small islands.
Another servant waited at the dwelling’s front door, carved with images of sea creatures. He ushered them into the tiled hallway. Lizbet took her leave and turned down another hall.
“You may wish to rest for a time, Ronan,” Jesper said. “And you’ll want to visit your parents, Niece.”
Cynara’s mouth twisted. “They’ll be expecting me.”
“Because they love you, Spitfire, no matter what you believe.”
She didn’t answer. “I’ll show Ronan to his room.”
“Come talk to me in the library when you’re done.”
“Yes, Uncle.” She nodded to Ronan and led him down the high-ceilinged hall where Lizbet had gone, past handsome painted images of water and a number of closed doors to a chamber near the end. It was more spacious than the guest cabin on the Pegasus, but the furnishings were spare and utilitarian.
Ronan was pleased. “Tranquil surroundings make tranquil mind,” Sihvaaro had often said.
Ronan looked at Cynara, who waited awkwardly in the doorway. Tranquillity? There was no peace in knowing he must guard every thought and deceive these humans who had been kind to an OutLine stranger. No peace until he had completed his task and left Dharma, and this woman, far behind.
“The room once belonged to Kord,” Cynara said. “He always preferred a simple living space. If you need anything, touch the buzzer beside the door and my uncle’s manservant will attend to it. I’m sure Jesper will invite you to join him at dinner—the evening meal.”
“And you?”
“I must see my parents. I’ll come for you as soon as we know what the Council intends.”
“Do not go.”
She was silent a long moment. “I may not be a traditional Dharman woman, but some habits are too deeply ingrained. To ignore my relatives would be unforgivable.”