ged around to pull cautiously at the
branch. It yielded at once to her touch, swinging its tip out of the
lake. She sniffed--there was a languid perfume in the air, the perfume
of the blooming turbi. She examined the flowers closely, to all
appearances they were perfect and natural.

"It preserves," Lur settled back on his haunches and waved one front paw
at the quiet water. "What goes into it remains as it was just at the
moment of entrance."

"But if this is seven months old--"

"It may be seven years old," corrected Lur. "How can you tell when that
branch first dipped into the lake? Yet the flowers do not fade even when
withdrawn from the water. This is indeed a mystery!"

"Of which I would know more!" Varta dropped the turbi and started on
around the edge of the lake.

Twice more they found similar evidence of preservation in flower or
leaf, wherever it was covered by the opaline water.

The lake itself was a long and narrow slash with one end cutting into
the desert of glass while the other wet the foot of the mountain. And it
was there, on the slope of the mountain that they found the greatest
wonder of all, Lur scenting it before they sighted the remains among the
stones.

"Man made," he cautioned, "but very, very old."

And truly the wreckage they came upon must have been old, perhaps even
older than Memphir. For the part which rested above the water was almost
gone, rusty red stains on the rocks outlining where it had lain. But
under water was a smooth silver hull, shining and untouched by the
years. Varta laid her hand upon a ruddy scrap between two rocks and it
became a drift of powdery dust. And yet--there a few feet below was
strong metal!

Lur padded along the scrap of shore surveying the thing.

"It was a machine in which men traveled," his thoughts arose to her.
"But they were not as the men of Memphir. Perhaps not even as the sons
of Erb--"

"Not as the sons of Erb!" her astonishment broke into open speech.

Lur's neck twisted as he looked up at her. "Did the men of Erb, even in
the old chronicles fight with weapons such as would make a desert of
glass? There are other worlds than Erb, mayhap this strange thing was a
sky ship from such a world. All things are possible by the Will of
Asti."

Varta nodded. "All things are possible by the Will of Asti," she
repeated. "But, Lur," her eyes were round with wonder, "perhaps it is
Asti's Will which brought us here to find this marvel! Perhaps H