en
picked up their apparatus and turned to go. The Sather Karf lifted the
fire from the brazier in his bare hand, moved it into the air and said a
soft word. It vanished, and the two men were also gone.

"Magic!" Dave said. He'd seen such illusions created on the stage, but
there was something different here. And there was no fakery about the
warmth from the thing over his chest. Abruptly he remembered that he'd
come across something like it, called a salamander, in fiction once;
the thing was supposed to be a spirit of fire, and dangerously
destructive.

The girl nodded in the soft glow coming from Dave's chest. "Naturally,"
she told him. "How else does one produce and control a salamander,
except by magic? Without, magic, how can we thaw a frozen soul? Or
didn't your world have any sciences, Dave Hanson?"

Either the five months under his uncle had toughened him, or the sight
of the bulldozer falling had knocked him beyond any strong reaction. The
girl had practically told him he wasn't in his own world. He waited for
some emotion, felt none, and shrugged. The action sent pain running
through him, but he stood it somehow. The salamander ceased its purring,
then resumed.

"Where in hell am I?" he asked. "Or when?"

She shook her head. "Hell? No, I don't think so. Some say it's Earth and
some call it Terah, but nobody calls it Hell. It's--well, it's a
long--time, I guess--from when you were. I don't know. In such matters,
only the Satheri know. The Dual is closed even to the Seri. Anyhow, it's
not your space-time, though some say it's your world."

"You mean dimensional travel?" Dave asked. He'd seen something about
that on a science-fiction television program. It made even time travel
seem simple. At any event, however, this wasn't a hospital in any sane
and normal section of Canada during his time, on Earth.

"Something like that," she agreed doubtfully. "But go to sleep now.
Shh." Her hands came up in complicated gestures. "Sleep and grow well."

"None of that hypnotism again!" he protested.

She went on making passes, but smiled on him kindly. "Don't be
superstitious--hypnotism is silly. Now go to sleep. For me, Dave
Hanson. I want you well and true when you awake."

Against his will, his eyes closed, and his lips refused to obey his
desire to protest. Fatigue dulled his thoughts. But for a moment, he
went on pondering. Somebody from the future--this could never be the
past--had somehow pulled him out ju