"No, no," protested Ladna. "According to our law, you will be free to leave if you wish." He snorted. "And--" she hesitated, "I will be in the same condition, now that I have lost my wings." Torcred stared at the ground, shrugged. "It's better than dying here--perhaps. And we may not make it. How fast can one travel on foot?" "Ten miles an hour?" the girl hazarded. "Less than that, I think. It will be a long way--and I know of no water holes." Ladna shook her head at the question in his glance. "It may be impossible to walk that far without water; I never heard of anyone's doing it. But we can try." * * * * * The blue flat-topped mountains still shimmered unreally, far away as ever, across the heated plain. The sun was at its height and the sand was blistering. The two huddled in the scant shadow of a dune. Both were sunburned, maddeningly thirsty, and discouraged. They could not have covered more than a dozen miles before the heat had driven them to seek shelter. They talked very little; as the burning midday dragged on, Ladna slept for a time. When she woke she looked round feverishly, and a moan escaped her lips. "What's the matter?" asked Torcred. "I was dreaming," the girl said in a choked voice, and, shockingly, two tears rolled down her cheeks. "Don't cry," ordered Torcred harshly. "We've got to conserve all possible moisture." She bit her lip, and no more tears came. When the shadows lengthened somewhat they set out again to the east. During the morning they had seen some signs of life--had flattened themselves on the ground while a cavalcade of fire-breathing dragons passed one by one along the crest of a distant ridge, the long snouts of their flame projectors thrusting before them, and had skirted a colony of the queer crusty pillbox people who had sacrificed mobility for an almost invulnerable security. But during the long afternoon the desert seemed utterly empty. Only at dusk they saw, far over head, three vast black shapes flying in wedge formation, and the drone of motors beat down out of the hollow bowl of the sky. "Buzzards!" whispered the girl, and shrank against the sand. Torcred knew that the buzzards were the aero people's hereditary foes, but that did not seem adequate to explain the bright bitterness of hatred in the girl's eyes.... He was about to ask a question, when his eyes caught movement in the near distance and he froze, mouth open. A hundred paces ahead on the way they had been going, atop a low mound, stood a figure--a man in queer garments, not identifiable with any of the races Torcred knew. When the Terrapin tried to make out his face, the man seemed to waver in the fading light; then he raised a hand in a gesture beckoning them toward him. The bird-girl, back to the apparition, looked wide-eyed wonder. Torcred croaked wordlessly and pointed; and with the motion the stranger was gone from the ridge. "What's the matter?" asked Ladna puzzledly.