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It went to the brazier, and Kennard, sinking down on the grass wearily, said, “Who are you, child ofgrace?”

“You may call me Naradzinie,” said the
 
chieri
 
, “which is my name among your people. My own would be strange to your ears and overlong.” From a chest it took silver cups, plainly but beautifully worked, and poured drink into them. It offered a cup to each. Larry tasted; it was delicious, but very strong wine. He hesitated a moment, then his weariness and thirst overcame him; he drank it up anyhow. Almost at once the sense of complete exhaustion left him and he watched alertly as the
 
chieri
 
moved the kettle aside from the brazier.

“Porridge is slim food alone for footsore travelers,” it said. “I will make you some cakes as well. No more wine until you have eaten, though! Meanwhile—” It gestured at the fountain, and Larry, suddenly abashed at his dirty and torn clothes, went to wash and douse his head under the fountain. Kennard followed suit.

When Larry came back, something like pancakes were baking on a flat griddle over the brazier. Theysmelled so good that his mouth watered. The
 
chieri
brought them food on flat, beautifully carved woodentrays, and there were also bowls of porridge, the flat pancakes which had a yeasty, puffy texture, bowlsof hot milk, honey and what tasted like cheese. The flavors were oddly pungent, but the boys were fartoo hungry to care; they demolished everything in sight, and the
 
chieri
 
brought them second helpings ofpancakes and honey. Replete at last, they leaned back and surveyed the room, and Larry’s first wordswere oddly irrelevant.

“The trailmen might evolve something like this, instead of what you fear, Kennard.”

The
 
chieri
 
answered for Kennard. “The trail-folk, in the far-back times, were our kinfolk, but then weleft the trees and built fire, they feared it and our ways moved apart. They are our younger brothers, togrow more slowly in wisdom. But perhaps it is time, indeed, for what this child of two worlds has done.”

Larry stared up at the alien’s strange beautiful face. “You— know all this?”

“The Comyn powers are
 
chieri
 
powers, little brother,” the
 
chieri
 
said. It stretched out its long body on the green turf. “I suppose you have no patience with long tales, so I will say only this, Kennard—the
 
chieri
 
lived on Darkover long before you Terrans came, to drive us into the deep and deeper woods.”

Kennard said, “But I am not Terran,” and Larry felt his amazed anger. “Larry is the Terran!”

The
 
chieri
 
smiled. “I forgot,” he said gently, “that to your people, the passing of a lifetime is as a sleepand a sleep to our folk. Children of Terra are you both. I was here, a youngling of my people, when thefirst ship from Terra arrived, a lost ship and broken, and your people were forced to remain here. Thetime came when they forgot their origins; but the name they gave to this world—Darkover— indeedreflects their speech and their customs.”

It was a strange tale he told, and Kennard and Larry, lying at ease and almost in disbelief, listened whilethe
 
chieri
 
told his tale.

The Terran ship had been one of the first early starships to cross space. Their crew, some hundred menand women, had been forced to remain, and after dozens of generations— which had seemed like only alittle while to the chieri-folk —they had spread over most of the planet.

“There is a tale you spoke of,” the
 
chieri
 
said, “of the lord of Carthon—one of your people,

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Kennard—who met with a woman of my folk Kierestelli; and she loved him, and bore him a son, andtherewith she died, but the blood had mixed. And this son, Hastur, loved a maiden of your people, Cassilda, and from this admixture in their seven sons came the Seven Domains in which you take suchpride.”

Interbreeding to produce these new telepathic powers in greater intensity had led to seven pure strains oftelepathy, each with its own Domain, or family; and each with its own kind of
laran
 
, or psi power.

“The Hasturs. The Aillards. The Ridenow. The Elhalyn. The Altons—your clan, young Kennard. And

the Aldaran.”

“The Aldaran,” said Kennard with a trace of bitterness, “were exiled from the Comyn—and they sold

our world to the Terrans!”

The
 
chieri’s
 
beautiful face was strange. “You mean, when the Terrans came again, for the second time,the Aldaran first welcomed their long-forgotten brothers to their own people who had forgotten theirancestry,” he said. “Perhaps among the Aldarans, their Terran heritage was never forgotten. But as foryou, little son of Darkover and of Terra”—and he looked at Larry with great gentleness—“you areweary; you should sleep. Yet I know very well why you are in haste. Even now—” his face becamedistant—“Valdir Alton answers for your fate to these new Terrans who have also forgotten that thesemen of Darkover are their brothers. As, indeed, all folk are brothers, though there are many, many timeswhen they forget it. And because you are both of my people, I will help you—though I would love tospeak more to you. For I am old, and of a dying race. Our women bear no more children, and one daythe
 
chieri
 
will be only a memory, living on only in the blood of those, their conquerers.” He sighed. “Beautiful were our forests in those days. Yet time and change come to all men and all worlds, and youare right to speak with reverence of Kierestelli and to call Cassilda blessed, who first mingled blood withblood and thus assured that the
 
chieri
 
would survive in blood if never in memory. But I am old—I talktoo much. I should act instead.”

He got to his feet. With those strange gray eyes—eyes like the eyes of Lorill Hastur, Larry realized—heenspelled them both, until nothing but those gray eyes remained; space whirled away and reeled—

Bright hot light struck their eyes. Yellow light. They were standing on a brilliantly tiled floor in a brightlyglassed-in room overlooking the spaceport of Darkover, and before them, in attitudes of defiance, stood Valdir Alton, Commander Reade—and Larry’s father.

XIV

«^

THEY HAD SLEPT. They were rested and fed and re-clothed. Kennard this time in some sparegarments of Larry’s, and once again they sat before Valdir Alton and Wade Montray and Commander Reade, finishing the tale of their adventures.

Valdir said at last, his face very grave, “I have heard of the
 
chieri-folk;
 
but I did not know that any ofthem still lived, even in the deep woods. And what you tell me of our mixed heritage is strange—andtroubling,” he added honestly, his eyes meeting those of Wade Montray with a confused newness inthem. “Yet the old
 
chieri
 
spoke only a truth I already knew. Time and change come to all worlds, evento ours. And if our sons could cross the mountains together in harmony—and neither alone could havelived, but both needed the other’s ways—then perhaps our worlds are the same.”

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“Father,” said Kennard gravely, “I decided something on the way back. Don’t be angry; it’s something I must do. I will do it with your consent now, or without your consent when I come of age. But I am going to take ship for Terra, and learn all that they can teach me there, in their schools. And after me, there will be others.”

Valdir Alton looked troubled; but finally he nodded.

“You are a man, free to choose,” he said, “and perhaps the choice is wise. Time only will tell. And you,

Lerrys” he added, for Larry had raised his head to speak.

“I want to learn your languages and your history, sir. It’s foolish to live here without learning them—not

only for me, but for all the Terrans who come here.”

Valdir nodded again, gravely. “Then you shall do it as a son in my house,” he said. “You and my sonare
 
bredin;
 
our house is yours.”

“Ah, some day,” Reade said, “ a school will be established for sons of both worlds to learn about the other.” He looked wryly at the boys and said, “I appoint you both Special Consultants on the Bureau of Terran-Darkovan Liaison. Hurry up and finish that interplanetary education of yours, boys.”

“One more thing,” Valdir said. “I think we need to learn from Terra about such things as forest fires, and what to do about bandits and banshees. And then, to use the knowledge in our own way.” He looked straight at Wade Montray and said, “Forgive me for intruding, but I am Alton. I think you should tell your son, now, why the
 
chieri
 
could call them both his kindred.”

Wade Montray stood before his son. “You’ve grown,” he said. “You’re a man.” Then he wet his lips.

“Larry, you were born on Darkover,” he said, “of a woman of the high Darkovan caste of the Aldaran, who forsook her people for me, and returned with me to Terra. For years I would not bring you back. I didn’t want you torn apart between two worlds, as I had been. I tried to keep you away from Darkover, but the call was too strong for you. As the call had been too strong for me.” His face worked. “So you’ll be torn between two alien worlds—as I was—”

“But,” Larry said quietly, and he stretched a hand to his father, “Darkovans are not alien. Once they were Earthmen. And Earthmen are akin to Darkovans, even those who have not the
 
chieri
 
blood in their veins. The call is not of alien worlds—but of blood brothers, who want to understand one another again. It won’t be easy. But”—his eyes sought out Kennard’s—“it’s a beginning.”

Wade Montray nodded, slowly and painfully, and Valdir Alton, suddenly, did a thing unprecedented fora Darkovan aristocrat. Awkwardly, the gesture unpracticed, he held out his hand to Wade Montray, andthe two men shook hands, while Commander Reade beamed.

They had, indeed, made a beginning. Trouble would come—as all change brings trouble in its wake. Butit was a beginning, and, as with the bringing of fire to the trailmen, the benefits would outweigh the risks.

The first step had been taken.

Larry and Kennard would take the next.

And after them, thousands.

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The brother worlds were once again reconciled.

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