But first the purple
film must be removed so that land and sea dwellers could meet on common
terms.
The fire blazed up, eating hungrily into the driftwood. And from it ran
the young Salariki with lighted brands, which at the water's edge they
whirled about their heads and then hurled out onto the purple patches.
Fire arose from the water and ran with frantic speed across the crests of
the low waves, while the Salariki coughed and buried their noses in their
perfume boxes, for the wind drove shoreward an overpowering stench.
Where the cleansing fire had run on the water there was now only the
natural metallic gray of the liquid, the cover was gone. Older Salariki
warriors were choosing torches from those they had brought, doing it with
care. Groft approached the Terrans carrying four.
"These you use now--"
What for? Dane wondered. The sky was still sunlit. He held the torch
watching to see how the Salariki made use of them.
Groft led the advance--running lightly out along the reef with agile and
graceful leaps to cross the breaks where the sea hurled in over the rock.
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