"Yes. It is called Shaping's Well. The man or woman who wishes to
invoke Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it."

"Pray for me," said Maskull. "Your unspotted prayer will carry more
weight."

"What do you wish for?"

"For purity," answered Maskull, in a troubled voice.

Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She
held it up to Maskull's mouth. "You must drink too." He obeyed. She
then stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the soft
murmurings of spring, prayed aloud.

"Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has
come to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let
him know the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don't spare
him pain, dear Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into
him a noble soul."

Maskull listened with tears in his heart.

As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and,
half buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of
dazzlingly white pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro
between distinctness and indistinctness, like an object being
focused. Then they faded out of sight again.

"Is that a sign from Shaping?" asked Maskull, in a low, awed tone.