"I don't know. No one knows. _You_ have to prove it to yourself first. _You_ have to learn about you, and then others will know. Who can best understand a new thing but the thing itself! Explore yourself, Tyr--and know!" Katha hooked a finger in the black braid of her belt and made traceries in the sand with the toe of her sandal. "I had to come and find you. I could not let you die. Besides, there is something in what you do. If the Trylla could be made friendly to the _ardth_ they would help us. Perhaps they could find the way to keep the Glows from dying. The _ardth_ need help. You might be the agent to bring _ardth_ and Trylla together." From the depths of his bitterness, Tyr laughed harshly. "I am but one against the _ardth_. I have no allies. Even the Trylla turn their faces from me. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought that a god must protect his people. Even if they hate him." "Then think of the rewards that the Trylla may reap, if you unite them with the _ardth_ in friendship. The _ardth_ are not only conquerors, but colonizers as well. In the far-flung span of cities that spread from the home planets fanwise beyond even Fornax, there are many marvels. "You have never been to Zafega on Fomalhaut-2. You have not beheld the creata-screens, where your dreams become reality, where the deeps of the subconscious are caught in graphs and translated into pictures. That is incredible beauty, and horror in one! No one is ever the same, having beheld his dreams in a waking moment. "Then there are the historays that recapture the past, making a living, breathing thing of it. You could see the history of all Lyallar, Tyr, from its primordial beginnings until the--" Tyr whispered roughly, "That sight would make me realize even more bitterly what it means to be a Tryllan--and alive--these days." Katha turned her back to him, looking across the rock and sand to a distant fringe of silver trees. Tyr bit his lip, staring at her shapely shoulders. Fool! To alienate the one person on all the planet who cared whether-- An old face lying on the ground, his eyes saw. Gaunt brown cheeks, and sparse grey hair on a round skull. Harl. The ancient one with a brain filled with the magic of war and the knowledge of sciences lost to all the Trylla, other than himself. Harl was dead. IV Katha killed him. That was why she was here. She cared not a fig for his chances of freeing the Trylla. She was a spy. And he believed her talk of screens and luxuries and the joys of joining the _ardth_! His hand vised at her wrist and twisted her around to face him. Her black eyes went wide, frightened at the mad rage in his face. Under the grip of that hand, her knees dug into the sand. "You murdered him. You--" "No! Oh, no, Tyr! His heart stopped from excitement. He--he thought the _ardth_ had found the Barrow. It _is_ the Barrow, isn't it?"