His face floated in a white mist, ancient and wise and sorrowful. The dimly veined lids were shut. The forehead was high, rounded, surmounted by snowy hair. On either side of the great hawk-nose, high cheekbones protruded. The eyelids quivered, slowly arose. Angus stared dumbly into living wisdom. He wondered deep inside him how old Stasor must be, to know what those eyes knew; how many worlds he must have gazed on, how many peoples he must have seen grow to statehood, to degeneracy, to death. "You entered the pool. I felt your emanations. What do you wish?" Moana said, "I am your priestess, Stasor. I have brought a man to see you." "Let the man speak." Angus wet his lips. He scowled, trying to find words. He mumbled, "I've been sentenced to die for attempting to kill the Diktor of Karr. He's an evil man." "What is evil, my son? Is a man bad because he opposes your will?" Angus growled, "He's a curse to his race. He sends disease and death on his people when they disobey him. He keeps improvement from them. He makes them slaves when they might be gods." "That is your belief. What says the Book of Nard?" Moana whispered, "The Book of Nard is lost, High One." Stasor was silent a long time. He said, finally, "The Book must be found. In it are the secrets of the Elder Race. Go to the City of the Ancients. There you will find the Book." "No one today knows where the City is, either. It is lost, with all the secrets of the Elder Race." "The City lies across the Car Carolan Sea, through the Land of Living Flame. Go there." The lips closed. The eyelids shut. Swiftly the old face faded into nothingness. The blackness came and pressed around them. Angus turned slowly, as in a dream. Still in that dreamlike trance he found himself staring at three tall, cowled forms that stood like sentinels. Moana screamed. One of the cowled figures lifted an arm and gestured assurance. "There is no cause for fear. The Hierarch sent us to bring you before him." Moana shuddered. Angus felt her cold hand seeking his, trying to hide itself in his palm. Hand in hand they willed themselves after the cowled forms. They swam bodily through the blackness, moving eerily, without muscular movement. A round curtain of shimmering bluish motes ahead of them was like a glowing patch in the darkness. One of the cowled forms turned and waited. He said, "Another pool, Moana. The pool of the Hierarchy. We, too, know the way into this world." "What is the blackness?" wondered Angus. "What man knows? It was formed and built by the Elder Ones before they went on." They were in the pool, passing upward through its queer surface. It sizzled and bubbled all around them, tingling on the skin. They passed the pool and stood in a low-ceilinged, bare room. A cowled man opened a door for them and stood aside.