There was ... a shifting. The ridge was gone. He stood within the valley, at the foot of a rocky slope, up which ran a curving stairway of a building of some pink stone. The building was exotic in design, terraced, domed, fairy-like. All around it strangely beautiful flowers and shrubs grew in riotous profusion. He had the nostalgic impression of heady fragrance and warm breeze, of serenity and peace. And he felt a queer ache of longing. Then, breaking abruptly through the deep stillness, he seemed to hear a faint piping. He turned in search and saw a flagstone path through a lane of trees. At the end of the lane was movement, a flutter as of wings. * * * * * He willed himself toward it. Again there was a shifting. And now he stood at the edge of a broad shallow depression, like a sunken garden. The path dipped down into this by a short stairway and ran on to circle what appeared to be a pool at the center. All around the pool flowers grew with an incredible luxuriance and splendor, thick masses of flowers, startling in their size and beauty, that made the air almost solid with their mingled perfume. It was as though they found some abnormally rich nourishment here that stimulated their fantastically prolific growth. The very atmosphere of this place seemed charged with a vital energy. Bryan had a feeling of surging life, of boundless power. And he sensed that it came from the pool. Something more than water was contained within it, something strange, supernal--god-like. The pool was filled with a pearly opalescence, alive and seething with delicate pastel hues, swirling, changing. Sparkles of chromatic brilliance raced over its surface, blazing and vanishing. A glow rose from it like a gorgeous rainbow-colored mist, spreading, charging the air with vibrant energy. But the weird magnificence of the pool held Bryan's attention only momentarily. For kneeling at its brink like a nymph in an enchanted setting was ... Leeta. In a semi-circle behind her a score or more of the grotesque mosquito-men made a fascinated audience. The giant bird, too, was visible, squatting, motionless. In her hands the girl held the crystal globe, shining with its stolen radiance. Now she leaned forward, lowering the globe to the surface of the pool. It seemed to float, pulsing. Sparkles from the pool ran to it in a growing boil of motion--and were absorbed. The activity grew swifter and yet swifter, until the pool seethed and foamed with brilliance. The air turned electric with a sensation of vast striving, of super-human effort. Watching puzzled, from his vantage point above the depression, Bryan saw the globe begin to swell. Its radiance blazed feverishly, its pulsing increased to a frenzied beat. Larger, it grew--larger. Became misty, unsubstantial, unreal. The rose core of it grew also, elongating, paling to pink. And now it was taking shape--the shape of a man. Features began forming, and then--