fending her primitive beliefs, I trying to show her the
light of truth. But it was no use: the war had been fought and the war
would continue.

Later that day we set out. That came as a surprise to me, because I had
taken it for granted that whatever the Onists wanted to show me was
right here in this little village. A dozen of us went, and when we had
been on the trail for some little time, Nari joined us, declaring that
she wanted to see it again--whatever it was.

We went for three days, and although these Onists turned out to be
better woodsmen than I had thought, still, they could not match the
skill we Pluralists have mastered over the generations. I believe I
could have escaped, had I wanted to; but I hardly seemed a prisoner of
war, and besides, once or twice when we had lagged to the rear of the
column, Nari stumbled against me like that day in the hut, and what
could I do but kiss her?

It was another village we reached at the end of our march, much bigger
than the first. Surprisingly, it looked a lot like a Pluralist town,
although it may only have seemed so because I had been out in the
woodlands for three days. They took me straightways to the village
square, and it was there that I saw the statue.

* * * * *

These statues of the Makers are rare, and I was surprised to see one in
an Onist village. I got on my knees at once to do it reverence. I
realize it was impious to look up, but I did--I had to see if it were
the genuine thing. And it was, to the last detail. Constructed of the
forbidden substance known as metal, it towered three times a Pluralist's
height, or three times an Onist's, for that matter. I have always
wondered why the Makers did not create our ancestors in their own
substance, as they had fashioned us in their image. But that is an
impious thought.

A stern gray-haired Onist who said he was Nari's father took me aside
afterwards. "Now, Jak," he asked me, "what can you say of what you have
seen?"

I shrugged. "I can say that somehow you've found one of the Maker
statues. What more?"

"It's one, is it not?"

"Of course it's one. They are rare, but I have seen three, all told, in
Pluralist villages."

"And each time they were separate? You never saw a group?"

"No. No, I didn't."

He slapped his hands together triumphantly. "Then that proves it. Each
is a copy of the original Maker, but there was only one. Otherwise you
would have seen statues i