"Did the turbi blossom fade when pulled out?" countered Lur. "There is a
secret to these fastenings--" He pulled and pried impatiently.
Varta tried to help but even their united strength was useless against
the force which held the loops in place. Breathless the girl slumped
back against the wall of the cabin while Lur settled down on his
haunches. One of the odd patches of color drifted by, its vivid scarlet
like a jewel spiraling lazily upward. Varta's eyes followed its drift
and so were guided to what she had forgotten, the worlds of Asti.
"Asti!"
Lur was looking up too.
"The power of Asti!"
Varta's hand went up, rested for a long moment under the sun and then
drew it down, carefully, slowly, as she had in Memphir's temple. Then
she stepped towards the captive. Within her hood a beaded line of
moisture outlined her lips, a pulse thundered on her temple. This was a
fearsome thing to try.
She held the sun on a line with one of the wrist bonds, She must avoid
the flesh it imprisoned, for Asti's power could kill.
From the sun there shot an orange-red beam to strike full upon the
metal. A thin line of red crept across the smooth hoop, crept and
widened. Varta raised her hand, sending the sun spinning up and Lur's
claws pulled on the metal. It broke like rotten wood in his grasp.
The girl gave a little gasp of half-terrified delight. Then the old
legends were true! As Asti's priestess she controlled powers too great
to guess.
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