“I am the enemy of fire and knight of peace,” he said. “I hold the keys that quench and yet release the fire of Elan. I am the Prince of Mirrors!”

Dreamer’s eyes were now wide open. No Lifeland this!

“I am the only hope for days ahead. I’ve come to turn the world from war and bless Elan’s pursuit of ore that promises to keep our planet strong and free. Though the hour is late, the fire is great that slumbers in these mines. The spark that we must quench ignites the times. I guard and shall redeem the universe that slumbers just above the waiting curse.”

The magnetism of his words of warlike peace drew Dreamer. He wanted to believe yet knew he had to ask, “But how do you redeem?”

The giant lowered kind eyes and extended a massive arm in warm entreaty: “I show you now the portrait of my hope.”

He drew a silvered mirror from his tunic and held it up to Dreamer’s face: “Here, Dreamer, is the face of him who sets the planet free.”

Dreamer stared and saw his face. His doubts assailed the doubtful image. The giant moved on, compelling other miners to look into his glass. As each in turn beheld himself, the Prince of Mirrors cried, “You, sir … and you … and you … are free with eyes to see the only hope of man is men.”

When he had shown each one his face, the Prince put away the glass, and Dreamer, standing just where he should to see the Prince’s visage in the glass, saw nothing. The angle of reflection was correct, but the face was not there.

The absence of the giant’s face only added to the trouble Dreamer felt about his words. Invader stirred within him, and he asked: “But of the Singer? Is he not the only hope to stay the War of Fire?”

A hardness moved across the Prince of Mirrors as he ground out an answer just as hard: “He is the source of war and not the stay. Too much blood already has been shed defending his small peace. The times are far too desperate for weak religion now. It is in men that man must trust or die.”

His face grew softer as he looked upon the simple miners and smiled at them in joy. His love seemed pure and warm and human.

“Men,” he smiled in gifted understanding, “you are the universal gleam! A beacon on the polished ice of the Crystal Mountains! You are the light, unhideable—the hope of Terra!”

And saying this, he turned abruptly on his heels and walked away.

Some followed. But Dreamer stayed to ponder why he could not see the Prince’s image in the glass.

V

“Cassandra, if the world’s on fire,

We must save a cup of ashes for the seed.”

The soldiers of the Emperor marched in rigid columns. Their era had come. The War of Fire began. Each man knew the battle plans and wore the Mark of Elan on the chain around his neck.