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the strangeness of this place, he reasoned that it might be a thing he could turn to his advantage.
    But he had taken scarcely half a dozen steps within the circle, when he felt a psychic stirring like something bumping, nuzzling against his mind.
    Fresh marrow! I cannot be contained! came the thought.
    Jack halted.
    "Who are you? Where are you?" he asked.
    I lie before you, little one. Come to me
    . "I see just a moldy rock."
    Soon you will see more. Come to me!
    "No thank you," said Jack, feeling a growing sinister intent behind the aroused consciousness which had addressed him.
    It is not an invitation. It is a command that I place upon you.
    He felt a strong force come into him, and with it a compulsion to move forward. He resisted mightily and asked, "What are you?"
    I am that which you see before you. Come now!
    "The rock or the fungus?" he inquired; struggling to remain where he stood and feeling that he was losing the contest. Once he took one step, he knew the second would come more easily. His will would be broken and the rock thing would have its way with him.
    Say that I am both, although we are really one.- You are stubborn, creature. This is good. Now, however, you can no longer resist me.
    It was true, His right leg was attempting to move of its own accord, and he realized that in a moment it would. So he compromised.
    Turning his body, he yielded to the pressure, but the step that he took was more to the right than straight ahead.
    Then his left foot began inching its way in the direction of the rock. Struggling while submitting, he moved to the side as well as ahead.
    Very well. Though you will not come to me in a straight line, yet will you come to me.
    The perspiration appeared on Jack's brow as step by step he fought; and step by step he advanced in a counterclockwise spiral toward that which summoned him. He was uncertain as to how long it was that he struggled. He forgot everything: his hatred, his hunger, his thirst, his love. There were only two things in the universe, himself and the pink boulder. The tension between them filled the air like a steady note which goes unheard after a time because of its constancy, which makes it a normal part of things. It was as if the struggle between Jack and the other had been going on forever.
    Then something else entered the tight little universe of their conflict.
    Forty or fifty painful steps-he had lost count-brought Jack into a position where he could see the far side of the boulder. It was then that his concentration almost gave way to a quick blazing of emotion and nearly allowed him to succumb to the tugging of that other will.
    He staggered as he beheld the heap of skeletons that were lying behind the glowing stone.
    Yes. I must position them there so that newcomers to this place will not grow fearful and avoid the circle of my influence. It is there that you, too, will lie, bloody one.
    Recovering his self-control. Jack continued the duel, the piles of bones adding tangible incentive to the effort. He passed behind the boulder in his slow, circling motion, passed the bones and continued on. Soon he stood before it as he had done earlier, only now he was about ten feet nearer. The spiral continued and he found himself approaching the back side once again.
    I must say that you are taking longer than any of the others. But then you are the first who thought to circle as you resigned yourself to me.
    Jack did not reply, but as he rounded to the rear he studied the grisly remains. During his passage, he noted that swords and daggers, metal buckles and harness straps lay there intact; garments and other items of fabric appeared, for the most part, half-rotted. The spillage from several knapsacks lay upon the ground, but he could not positively identify all the small items by starlight. Still, if indeed he had seen what he thought he saw lying there among the bones, then a meager measure of hope, he decided, was allowable.
    Once more around and you will come to