"Oh, you can stay with me, I guess. That is, if you dare associate with me." There was bitterness in her voice.
None of it made sense. She had saved him from the forest, brought him to her home. Why should he be afraid to associate with her? But all he wanted was to find Margaret, if she were in this strange world, and escape back to Earth. There, though he was a cripple, he was not so abysmally ignorant. He knew he should feel grateful to this red-haired girl, but deep in his brain an irrational resentment gnawed. He tried to fight it down, knowing he had to learn much more about his new environment before he could survive alone. The last shreds of his crumbling self-confidence had been stripped away.
Suddenly he realized he was ravenously hungry.
"All right," the girl said. "We will eat now."
He stared at her in discomfiture. He had not mentioned food. She laughed.
"Really," she said, "you seem to know nothing about closing your mind."
Resentment flared higher. She was a telepath, and he was not proud of his thoughts.
The passageway into which he followed her was dark, but after a few steps her hands began to light the way as they had in the forest.
"How do you do it?" he asked. To him the production of cold light in living tissues was even more astounding than her control of gravity. That still seemed too much like a familiar dream he had had many times on Earth, and it probably had some mechanical basis.
She smiled at him as though at a curious child. "That is old knowledge in the Open Worlds. Your Closed Worlds must be very strange."