Dumarest turned. Behind him was nothing but a mist of swirling snow, azure flecks caught and spun in the wind, ghostly against the darkening sky. He looked back. Nim shy;ino's eyes were still open, still holding an expression of in shy;credulity, but the blood no longer seeped from his parted lips. As he watched a thin patina of azure snow began to cover the dead face.

Gently he closed the staring eyes.

"He's gone?" Lallia was a dim bulk at his side as he rose to his feet. "Earl, is he dead?"

"He was talking," said Yalung. "What did he say?"

"Nothing of importance," said Dumarest. "He was ram shy;bling."

"I thought he might have told us how to get through the trees." The dealer sounded irritable. "He was here once before."

"And saw nothing," reminded Dumarest. "And he could know nothing of the trees or he would not have run towards them." He looked at the sky, the shadowed glades. "We'll have to try and go around them. Perhaps there is a path."

For two days they walked beside the forest, slaking their thirst on snow and sleeping huddled together for warmth. At dawn on the third day Dumarest announced his decision.

"As far as I can tell these trees completely surround the place we have to reach. Therefore we have to go through them."

"And end like the navigator?" Yalung looked at the un shy;broken ranks of trees.

"There could be a way." Dumarest pointed. "See? The grass areas around the trees do not completely meet. I have been watching and all are the same. My guess is that the grass is a form of symbiote. The trees kill game and the grass devours it, in turn feeding the tree and at the same time acting as a sort of trigger mechanism for the spines." He picked up a small boulder. "Watch!"

Explosions cracked the air as the mass of stone fell among the grass of one of the areas. A dozen shafts splintered on the target.

"Now watch this." Again Dumarest threw a large stone, this time on the narrow strip of snow between two of the trees. Nothing happened.

"I see what you mean," said Lallia. "But suppose it gets dark before we pass through the forest?"

"We sleep and continue the next day."

"And if that isn't enough?"

"We have no choice," said Yalung before Dumarest could answer. "Here we shall freeze or starve. Already we are weakening." He turned his round, yellow face away from the wind. "If you lead I shall follow."

It was like treading an intricate maze. No path was straight and all followed circles so that to progress a mile they had to walk four. And, always, Dumarest was conscious of the danger of getting lost.

His guides were the sun and the strange shimmer in the air beyond the trees. The sun moved across the sky but the shimmer did not and, fortunately, the trees were wide-spaced enough to allow fairly good vision. Even so the going was hard. The eerie silence of the forest began to play on their nerves and moving shadows gave the impression of watchful menace.

The wind fell and the snow vanished. Night caught them and they took turns to sleep, one watching while the others sprawled in the narrow margin of safety. With the dawn came a raging thirst adding to the weakness caused by cold and lack of food. The cold could be combated by exertion, but the thirst could not. Twice Yalung called a sharp warn shy;ing as Lallia staggered and almost left the path. The third time Dumarest halted and looked into the strained lines of her face.

"I'm sorry, Earl," she said. "I couldn't help it. It's got so that I seem to be walking in a dream." She looked around, shuddering. "It's so damn quiet. If only something would make a noise. And," she added with feeling, "if only there was something to drink."

"Stay here." Dumarest turned and walked on to the next area of grass. Dropping he reached out with his boot and scraped it towards him. As he tore at the grass explosions blasted the air and shafts rained towards him. His boots were strong and, like his pants, resisted penetration. Picking up the clump of grass he returned to the others. "Chew on this," he said. "It might help."

Dubiously Lallia took the tangled vegetation. It was a mass of thick, juicy strands, the ends seeping where it had broken away. Sight of the liquid inflamed her thirst and she thrust some of the grass into her mouth, chewing and swallowing, sap staining her lips as she helped herself to more.

"It's good," she said. "Have some."

Yalung said, quietly, "Thank you, no. I can continue for a while yet."

"Earl?"

"Later, maybe. Now stick to the path and don't start day shy;dreaming."

They reached the edge of the forest as the sun kissed the horizon, long shadows streaming from the ranked trees and hiding the terrain so that they were clear long before they realized it. Now they walked on close-cropped grass dotted with low bushes, bearing flame-colored berries and thorned leaves. A tiny lake yielded water of crystal clarity, cold but more delicious than wine. Later Dumarest managed to kill a small animal, spearing it with his knife at thirty feet, clean shy;ing the beast and jointing it, using the fur to wipe the blade.

Chewing on the raw gobbets of meat they walked on to where the shimmer hung against the blossoming stars.

They were few and Dumarest looked at them with a strange nostalgia. So had the stars looked from Earth when he had been very young. Not the shimmer and glare so com shy;mon in and close to the Center, but a scatter of burning points separated by wide expanses of darkness. They had formed patterns, those stars, and the broad swath of the galactic lens had traced a shining path across the heavens. But they had been scattered by distance and not, as the stars in the Web, by the cloud of shielding dust.

"Look," said Yalung softly. "A ship."

It fell wreathed in the misty blue of its field, a tiny mote incredibly far, falling as a meteor to a point beyond the horizon. Landing at the sacred place which, so Nimino had said, was protected by strange guardians. The trees? Dumarest didn't think so. They were guardians of a kind but not the ones the navigator had meant.

He paused as a thin trilling stirred the air, the ghostly echoes of a crystal chime, sounding high and shrill and far away.

A sweet and soulful sound, unbearably poignant, arousing memories better left undisturbed.

"Earl!" Lallia came close to him and caught his arm. "Earl, what was that?"

It came again as she fell silent, thin, hurtfully pure. A third time and then the night settled into unbroken silence.

"A signal," said Yalung thoughtfully. "It must have sounded when the ship landed. A summons, perhaps?" He sucked in his breath with an audible hiss. "Look! The sky!"

Ahead, where the shimmer had disturbed the cold beauty of the stars, leaped a vibrant cone of coruscating brilliance. It lasted for perhaps half a minute and then, as abruptly as it had come, was gone.

The ship left at dawn. Lallia watched as it rose, tiny in the distance, the blue mist of its field almost lost against the brightening sky. Her face was haggard as she looked at Dumarest.

"Earl! We're too late! It's gone!"

"There will be others," he said. "Ships must come here all the time."

"They come," agreed Yalung. "But will they take any who ask for passage? Will they be allowed to? This is a strange world."

He halted, brooding as he studied the sky. They had been walking for hours, using the stars as a guide, avoiding the thorned bushes more by instinct than actual sight. They had found no more lakes and there had been no more game.

"How much further do you think we have to go?"

"A long way," said Dumarest. The ship had been small, their progress of the night had been negligible, the faint shimmer in the sky seemed no closer. "A week, perhaps, even longer, but we'll get there in the end."