WHEN I rejoined Itza and Azcopil in the outer chamber, my chest bore a beautifully tattooed clan-mark of the Tutul Zius, and I felt as if a live scorpion was under my shirt. Nohul Voh had cautioned me not to mention the matter even to the prince or to Itza, nor to permit anyone to see the recently tattooed design for the present. In a week’s time, aided by an unguent he had given me, he assured me that no one, not even Kinchi Haman, would guess I had not borne the symbol for years, and then, he added, the more who saw it the better. Itza, poor girl, had been greatly worried at my absence, and as I entered the room she uttered a glad cry and rushed into my arms. She was very nervous, for she had the superstitious fears of her race for all things savoring of the unknown and for more than two hours she had been regaled by Azcopil’s highly-colored tales of the weird doings of the sorcerer. The prince, however, did not appear to have worried over my prolonged session with Nohul Voh. “Truly,” he exclaimed with a laugh, “Nohul Voh has had time to show you the past and future from the beginning of time until the end of all things. Twenty times and more has the green ball moved about its circuit.” I stepped closer to the sphere, still swinging slowly around the circumference of the column top, and whirling around and around as it did so. I examined it from every angle, but could see no support, nothing that held it suspended, no connection with any other object. It seemed actually to float in air. “My lord Itzimin wonders at the ball of time,” rumbled Nohul Voh, who was watching me. “Fear not to touch it, if you so desire, my lord.” I did desire, and taking him at his word, I cautiously extended my hand and touched the gleaming green sphere. I had expected that my touch would stop it or at least disturb its motion. Judge of my utter amazement when it swung by my hand without veering a fraction of an inch from its circuit! With all my strength I pushed against it; but I might as well have pushed against one of the massive stones in the wall of the room! It was as immovable, as firmly fixed as though it were held by steel rods! Nohul Voh chuckled. Azcopil gaped. Itza stared, half-frightened, at the seeming magic. I could scarcely credit my senses. It seemed impossible, absolutely contrary to all rules and laws of physics. All that had gone before--the vision of the smoke, Nohul Voh’s description of my journey--were nothing in comparison with this phenomenon. I had already decided in my own mind that the smoke-cloud, the vision, were all delusions, some form of hypnosis. But there was nothing visionary, nothing of hypnotism about this floating, silently rotating sphere of green, that could not be moved, could not be diverted from its course.