Marik!" Marik turned in amazement. "You're not questioning the Word, are you? The Guest Rite is inviolable. As long as he is our guest, we cannot harm him. To punish him for his act would be a greater violation than the act itself." "But can we let this Earthman remain a guest of Carthule, Marik? Let him sleep down there with the eye in his pocket, and not do a thing about it! He could flaunt the jewel under our noses and we'd have to nod our heads and offer him more food." "The way of Carthule is the right way," Marik said. "The Guest Rite is inviolable. We will continue to treat this Earthman as we would Carthule Himself." "But what can I do, Marik? My temple is no longer a temple without the eye!" "Carthule will show us the way, Polla San. Suppose we pray." The following morning the Earthman, after a hearty meal, stretched himself luxuriously and looked out across the desert. "I guess I'll be moving along," he said to Marik. "I'm in fine shape now, thanks." "I am glad you found your stay restful," Marik said, concealing his feelings for the desecrator. "Carthule is ever-providing." The Earthman began to move idly up and down the mealroom, examining the ancient furnishings. "That reminds me," he said. "You wouldn't have a compass to lend me, would you?" "A compass?" Marik let a puzzled frown cross his forehead. "What may a compass be?" he asked in just the right tone of ignorance. The Earthman glanced at him impatiently. "You know," he said, gesturing with his hands. "It's a sort of a little metal box with a magnetic pointer. You must have seen them." "No," Marik said. "Out here we rarely have guests from your world. I have not seen any compasses." "Don't you use them yourselves—or something equivalent, I mean? A compass is for traveling. It tells you what direction you're going in." Marik smiled. "We of Carthule have no need of such things, friend. We need no external guides here." The Earthman worried a tangled wisp of hair. "Nothing at all? How do you find your way around in the desert?"
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