lass that dimmed the red sun to orange. "Joanna
thinks I'm crazy, Race."

"She thinks you're upset."

"Rindy's an odd child, a real Dry-towner. But it's not my imagination,
Race, it's not. There's something--" Suddenly she sobbed aloud again.

"Homesick, Juli?"

"I was, a little, the first years. But I was happy, believe me." She
turned her face to me, shining with tears. "You've got to believe I
never regretted it for a minute."

"I'm glad," I said dully. _That made it just fine._

"Only that toy--"

"Who knows? It might be a clue to something." The toy had reminded me of
something, too, and I tried to remember what it was. I'd seen nonhuman
toys in the Kharsa, even bought them for Mack's kids. When a single man
is invited frequently to a home with five youngsters, it's about the
only way he can repay that hospitality, by bringing the children odd
trifles and knicknacks. But I had never seen anything quite like this
one, until--

--Until yesterday. The toy-seller they had hunted out of the Kharsa, the
one who had fled into the shrine of Nebran and vanished. He had had half
a dozen of those prism-and-star sparklers.

I tried to call up a mental picture of the little toy-seller. I didn't
have much luck. I'd seen him only in that one swift glance from beneath
his hood. "Juli, have you ever seen a little man, like a _chak_ only
smaller, twisted, hunchbacked? He sells toys--"

She looked blank. "I don't think so, although there are dwarf _chaks_ in
the Polar Cities. But I'm sure I've never seen one."

"It was just an idea." But it was something to think about. A toy-seller
had vanished. Rakhal, before disappearing, had smashed all Rindy's toys.
And the sight of a plaything of cunningly-cut crystal had sent Juli into
hysterics.

"I'd better go before it's too dark," I said. I buckled the final clasp
of my shirtcloak, fitted my skean another notch into it, and counted the
money Mack had advanced me for expenses. "I want to get into the Kharsa
and hunt up the caravan to Shainsa."

"You're going there first?"

"Where else?"

Juli turned, leaning one hand against the wall. She looked frail and
ill, years older than she was. Suddenly she flung her thin arms around
me, and a link of the chain on her fettered hands struck me hard, as she
cried out, "Race, Race, he'll kill you! How can I live with that on my
conscience too?"

"You can live with a hell of a lot on your conscience." I disengaged her
arms firmly f