Xylox cleared his throat. "I am Xylox Serenac, Mage Questor of the Seventh Rank and leader of this expedition. Well met, Armitage." He took the Administrator's hand and shook it in a gesture that seemed to transcend the gulf between mages and Technologists.

Gruffly, Xylox introduced the rest of his group. "This is Questor Grimm, Fifth Rank," he said "These two gentlemen are Crest and Tordun, warriors."

Turning to Drexelica with open contempt on his face, he added, "This is a thief girl who latched on to us in Griven. I advise you to watch out for your valuables when she is around."

Armitage walked straight past Xylox and approached Drex, who glared at the senior mage with an expression bordering on hatred.

"And what is your name, my dear?" the Administrator asked.

The girl reddened in embarrassment.

"I'm Drexelica," she said, managing a clumsy curtsey. "I promise you, I only ever stole because I was hungry; I won't do it again. Grimm, here, is looking after me now."

"And how old are you, Drexelica?" Armitage's voice dripped with solicitous concern, as if the answer to the question might be of prime importance to Drex's wellbeing.

"I'm sixteen," the girl whispered, her face crimson under the Administrator's intense gaze.

"Sixteen years old; that's charming," Armitage said with a smile. "We don't see many young ladies here. Welcome, Drexelica."

The bare-faced man introduced himself cordially to Grimm, Crest and Tordun in turn. To Tordun, he added, "Master Tordun, would I be correct in assuming that you are hypomelanic?"

"I am an albino," rumbled the giant swordsman, "if that is what you mean."

"It is," Armitage said. "It might interest you to know that we have a very effective balm that can protect skin, even the palest skin like yours, from the worst effects of the sun. If you wish, I'll have one of our scientists prepare a batch for you."