surface was not
quiet enough to act as a mirror.

Getting to his feet as the raft bobbed under his shift of weight, Shann
studied the territory now about them. He could not match Thorvald's
inches, just as he must have a third less bulk than the officer, but
standing, he could sight something of what now lay beyond the rising
banks of the cut. That grass which had been so thick in the meadowlands
around the camp had thinned into separate clumps, pale lavender in
color. And the scrawniness of stem and blade suggested dehydration and
poor soil. The earth showing between those clumps was not of the usual
blue, but pallid, too, bleached to gray, while the bushes along the
stream's edge were few and smaller. They must have crossed the line into
the desert Thorvald had promised.

Shann edged around to face west. There was light enough in the sky to
sight tall black pyramids waiting. They had to reach those distant
mountains, mountains whose feet on the other side were resting in sea
water. He studied them carefully, surveying each peak he could separate
from its fellows.

Did the skull lie among them? The conviction that the place he had seen
in his dream was real, that it was to be found on Warlock, persisted.
Not only was it a definite feature of the landscape somewhere in the
wild places of this world, but it was also necessary for him to locate
it. Why? Shann puzzled over that, with a growing uneasiness which was
not quite fear, not yet, anyway.

Thorvald moved. The raft tilted and the wolverines became growly. Shann
sat down, one hand out to the officer's shoulder in warning. Feeling
that touch Thorvald shifted, one hand striking out blindly in a blow
which Shann was just able to avoid while with the other he pinned the
map case yet tighter to him.

"Take it easy!" Shann urged.

The other's eyelids flicked. He looked up, but not as if he saw Shann at
all.

"The Cavern of the Veil----" he muttered. "Utgard...." Then his eyes did
focus and he sat up, gazing around him with a frown.

"We're in the desert," Shann announced.

Thorvald got up, balancing on feet planted a little apart, looking to
the faded expanse of the waste spreading from the river cut. He stared
at the mountains before he squatted down to fumble with the lock of the
map case.

The wolverines were growing restless, though they still did not try to
move about too freely on the raft, greeting Shann with vocal complaint.
He and Thorvald could sati