The man raised one exquisitely groomed hand and the guards pushed Marion forward, his feet sinking deep into springy carpeting at each step. Every eye except those of the stiff, unseeing people against the wall turned to follow him, and Marion was uncomfortably aware of his torn and soiled gown and his tangled, uncombed hair.

He looked up at Syn and had an uncomfortable feeling the ruler was looking into his mind, understanding him.

'So you are the man who came through.' Even his voice was remarkably like Marion's.

Marion said nothing.

'Why did you come to my world?' the ruler asked.

'It wasn't any of my doing,' Marion exploded petulantly. 'I still don't know where I am, and I don't think I like it here, and I had nothing to do with coming. It was all on account of that Eldyn's stupid experiments, and if she hadn't tried to kill Victoria—'

'But you are here,' Syn interrupted, tightening his sensuous full lips in a way Marion recognized as one of his own mannerisms. 'Perhaps I can find use for you.'

'Can't you send me back-?'

'Why should I?'

There was no answer to that, and Marion tried to hide his growing nervousness. Syn allowed himself a feline smile.

Wyr came striding forward. 'Highness! Syn,' she boomed. 'I desire to claim my right to this captive.'

Syn's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Marion's intuition told his the similarity between them had something to do with his hesitation.

'No. He is not of the Rebels, and therefore you have no captor's rights. You recognized him as an Outworldling yourself when you gave his a thought helmet. Thus by custom he is subject to a hearing—if I so choose.'