“This place was ancient long before the time of Rome,” Window said. “And it’s coming alive again. There’s so much to tell you that I don’t know where to begin. Our discoveries, for one thing. That’s a story in itself. We’re learning to activate mechanisms that we would never have dreamed of—and they’re all here in instructions that date back to the time of the cavemen. This was a fantastic civilization. We don’t know yet how it began, but we hope to find out. It flourished while most Earthmen were still savages. We’re still learning, finding new records—Look.”

Proteus gasped. Above in the wide circle of sky in the center of the cliffs, a few stars shone and a dull Moon. Here before them the valley narrowed slightly into what had obviously been a kind of courtyard. Between patches of grass, broken colored tiles glittered. In several places the grass had been uprooted, baring whole areas of clear shining mosaics, each fitted into the other so cleverly that it was impossible to tell where the divisions were between them.

Window stood there and closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you what I see with my inner vision,” he said. “Each time I come here and look inward, I see something else, a further detail, another piece of information that tells us where to look, that brings us one step closer.”

Window’s mental vision shimmered, blurred, then cleared. Describing what he was seeing, he said softly: “This was a courtyard, as you can probably tell. The mosaics covered the whole area, the floor of the valley. The walls and drawings are very important, but while we’ve discovered some very strange things about them, there’s a lot we don’t know. They do contain a key that’s vital; we’re sure of that. But wait … I’m seeing something new … A young woman stands in the courtyard now.”

Proteus frowned. Suddenly he felt nervous and uncomfortable. He stared at Window, whose head was flung back, his face expectant and yet passive, his long humped nose sensitive as an animal’s. Proteus wanted to interrupt, but didn’t dare to.

“She’s beautiful, black. She’s looking at the drawings—” Window sighed audibly. “She’s disappearing. I’m losing my focus.”

“I suppose she could be the girl Story told us about—the one who was supposed to threaten the Tellers through me somehow.” Proteus spoke resentfully, almost unwillingly. “I wish you hadn’t seen her,” he said. “Everything was so great. I still think that Story’s tale was—”

“Distorted?” Window said, smiling. His eyes opened. “It might have been. The threat she saw could have been the second search party. She could have perceived the black girl separately, and just put the two together. That’s possible. She’s young, and still learning to use her abilities.”