d then
gazed over its rim at the Terran.

"We shall cast the rods, man-who-thinks-without-a-guide. Perhaps then we
shall see how strong _your_ dreams are--to be bent to your using, or to
break you for your impudence."

Her hands swayed the bowl from side to side, and there was an answering
whisper from its interior as if the contents slid loosely there. Then
one of her companions reached forward and gave a quick tap to the bottom
of that container, spilling out upon the table a shower of brightly
colored slivers each an inch or so long.

Shann, staring at the display in bewilderment, saw that in spite of the
seeming carelessness of that toss the small needles had spread out on
the blank surface to form a design in arrangement and color. And he
wondered how that skillful trick had been accomplished.

All three of the Warlockians bent their heads to study the grouping of
the tiny sticks, their young subordinate leaning forward also, her
eagerness less well controlled than her elders'. And now it was as if a
curtain had fallen between the Terran and the aliens, all sense of
communication which had been with him since he had entered the
skull-lined chamber was summarily cut off.

A hand moved, making the jeweled pattern--braceleting wrist and
extending up the arm--flash subdued fire. Fingers swept the sticks back
into the bowl; four pairs of yellow eyes raised to regard Shann once
more, but the blanket of their withdrawal still held.

The youngest Warlockian took the bowl from the elder who held it, stood
for a long moment with it resting between her palms, fixing Shann with
an unreadable stare. Then she came toward him. One of those at the table
put out a restraining hand.

This time Shann did _not_ master his start as he heard the first audible
voice which had not been his own. The skull at the left hand on the
table, by its yellowed color the oldest of those summoned from the
niches, was moving, moving because its jaws gaped and then snapped,
emitting a faint bleat which might have been a word or two.

She who would have halted the young Warlockian's advance, withdrew her
hand. Then her fingers curled in an unmistakable beckoning gesture.
Shann came to the table, but he could not quite force himself near that
chattering skull, even though it had stopped its jig of speech.

The bowl of sticks was offered to him. Still no message from mind to
mind, but he could guess at what they wanted of him. The crystal
subst