The Broken Sphere Read Online Free PDF Page B

roofs, this city had seemed to be all grays, the only bright color being the lake itself.
    Teldin had shrugged. It’s not as if I’m here for the scenery, he’d reminded himself, and brought the Ship of Fools in on its final approach to the lake.
    He now walked the narrow streets of Compact – a strange name, he found himself thinking. I wonder where it came from? From the ground, the city was even more drab than it had looked from space. There were no colors anywhere that he could see. Everything, from the streets, to the walls of the buildings, to the clothing of the citizenry, was rendered in different shades of gray. No colors – not even any black. Even the inhabitants’ skin had a gray tinge, Teldin thought wryly.
    The people of Compact were an incredibly somber lot, he decided. The expressions of the men looked as drab as their clothes, framed by simple haircuts that looked as if they’d been done with gardening shears. As for the women, he couldn’t tell what their expressions were; they wore ground-length cloaks – of gray, of course – with cowls pulled forward over their heads, concealing their faces. Passersby rarely looked up from the ground in front of their feet – except to cast suspicious glances his way, he noticed – and they never smiled.
    They didn’t seem to talk, either, other than in whispers. Even the children – of which there were many in the streets – were unnaturally silent. Instead of running and playing, laughing and yelling, the way kids were supposed to do, they walked soberly around like smaller versions of adults. What a depressing place to grow up, Teldin mused, remembering his own boisterous childhood. I’m sure my father wished I’d been like these little zombies, but – thank the gods – that’s not the way it worked out.
    After a few minutes of walking through the streets, Teldin thought he could pick out some people who didn’t look as if they really belonged. Certainly, they wore the same unrelieved gray clothing, and they kept their eyes down and mouths shut. But there was something about their expressions – a hint of interest, perhaps, or vitality – that set them apart. They’re visitors, too, the Cloakmaster realized with surprise. They knew what to expect, and took on the dress and mannerisms of the locals so they wouldn’t stand out the way I do. He frowned. I should have done more research before coming here, he admitted to himself. There’s definitely something to be said for not drawing attention to yourself.
    The situation wasn’t permanent, however. Using the cloak’s shapechanging powers, it would be only a moment’s work to turn himself into a gray-clad drone. Of course, undergoing the change on a crowded street wouldn’t be the smartest idea. He glanced around him. All he needed was a deserted alley and a couple of seconds to remedy his error. But then his eyes lit on a group of burly men across the street, and he realized he might not have a couple of seconds to do anything.
    There were five of them, all large and broad-shouldered, the smallest about Teldin’s height and the largest a head taller. They wore the gray clothes and had the severe haircuts that marked them as Compact locals, but their eyes were fixed on the Cloakmaster, not the ground, and their expressions were hard and angry.
    Teldin stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t even guess at what the gray-clad men might be angry about, but he was in no mood for any kind of confrontation. Quickly he glanced around him, looking for some way of avoiding them, somewhere to duck out of sight. He was in the middle of the street, though, and there was no alley, or even an open doorway, within a dozen yards.
    It wouldn’t have helped him if there had been. The largest of the five men was already striding toward Teldin, with the others following behind.
    With no option but confrontation, Teldin drew himself up to his full height and fixed an expression on his face that he hoped