went on. I've
been flying when I could for three days now."

Bork, of course, hadn't known of her spell with which she'd forced
herself to want him "well and truly." Apparently it had gone on
operating even when she thought he was dead, and with a built-in sense
of his direction. Well, she was here--and he wasn't sorry.

Hanson took another look across the plains toward the glowing hell of
the horizon. He reached for her and pulled her to him. She was firm and
sweet against him, and she was trembling in response to his urging.

At the last moment she pulled back. "You forget yourself, Dave Hanson!
I'm a registered and certified virgin. My blood is needed for--"

"For spells that won't work anyhow," he told her harshly. "The sky isn't
falling now, kid. It's down--or most of it."

"But--" She hesitated and then let herself come a trifle closer. Her
voice was doubtful. "It's true that our spells are failing. Not even the
surest magic is reliable. The world has gone mad, and even magic is no
longer trustworthy. But--"

He was just pulling her close enough again and feeling her arms lift to
his neck when the ground shook behind them and there was a sound of
great, jarring, thudding steps.

Hanson jerked around to see a great roc making its landing run, heading
straight for them. The huge bird braked savagely, barely stopping before
they were under its feet.

From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men
began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the
Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp
stickers.

The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad
grin on his face. "Greetings, Dave Hanson. You do manage to survive,
don't you? And my little virgin sister, without whose flight I might not
have found you. Well, come along. The roc's growing impatient!"

VIII

The great roc's hard-drumming wings set up a constant sound of rushing
air and the distance flowed behind them. There was the rush of wind all
around them, but on the bird's back they were in an area where
everything seemed calm. Only when Hanson looked over toward the ground
was he fully conscious of the speed they were making. From the height,
he could see where the sun had landed. It was sinking slowly into the
earth, lying in a great fused hole. For miles around, smaller drops of
the three-mile-diameter sun had spattered and were etching deeper holes
in the pi