dawned on neither of them.

But Ed was in flight. He rose five feet above the ground, still
unconscious and snoring, and sped unerringly across the air, like a
large, fat arrow shot from a bow, in the direction of Forrester and the
circle of girls.

He appeared overhead suddenly, and Forrester controlled him so that he
drifted downward as delicately as an overweight snowflake, eddying in
the slight breeze while the girls gaped at him. Forrester allowed the
body to drop the last six inches out of control, so that Ed Symes landed
with a heavy thump in the center of the circle. But no harm was done. Ed
was very far gone indeed; he merely snored on.

"There," Forrester said.

Millicent blinked. "Where?" she said. "Him?"

"Certainly," Forrester said in a pleased tone. "He's a good deal too
noisy, though, don't you think?"

"He snores a lot," Judy offered in a tentative voice, "if that's what
you mean, Lord Dionysus."

"Exactly. And I don't see any reason to put up with it. Instead, well
just put him in stasis for a little while, and that'll keep him quiet."
Again he waved one hand, almost carelessly. Ed Symes's snores vanished
immediately, leaving the world a cleaner, purer, quieter place to live
in, and his body became as rigid as if he were a statue.

"There," Forrester said again with satisfaction.

"Now what?" Kathy asked.

"Now we straighten him out."

One more pass, and Ed Symes's arms were at his sides, his legs stretched
straight out. Only his stomach projected above the rigid lines of his
body. Forrester thought he had never seen a more pleasing sight.

Dorothy gasped. "Is he--is he dead?"

Forrester looked at her reprovingly. "Dead? Now what would I do that
for, after he's been so helpful and all?"

"I don't know," she muttered.

"Well," Forrester said, "he's not dead. He's just in stasis--in a state
of totally suspended animation. As soon as I take the spell off, he'll
be all right. But I don't think I'll take it off just yet. I've got
plans for my little target-tosser."

He reached over and touched the stiff body. It seemed to rise a fraction
of an inch, floating on the tips of the grass. The wind stirred it a
little, but it didn't float away.

"I took some of his weight off," Forrester explained, "so he'll be a
little easier to handle."

Now Ed Symes was behaving as if he were a statue carved out of cork.
With a quick flip, Forrester turned the statue over. The effect was
exactly what he