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One morning, shining ribbons appear on the northern horizon. At first you think they're wide rivers reflecting the intermittent light of the sun and the gray mountain, but as you get closer you realize the truth: they're crystals. Huge veins of crystal, like colossal, glittering roots spread across the earth, mingled with the actual roots of shrubs and grasses. And if these are roots, what appear to be trees are visible still farther north. That must be your eventual destination.

Huge dragonflies, larger and more deadly looking than the flying lizards, circle overhead, but Control wastes no time examining the crystals.

"These are not of sufficient purity to serve as the Specular's prism," she says.

Control is turning to leave when Alexius says, "Imperfect crystals are still crystals! Crowchar, let's gather what we can for sale back home. We have the tools."

"Actually," Control says, "Dr. Sabbatine would be interested in these formations, as long as we do not damage them."

But Vecla's black eyes remain fixed on the huge dragonflies, and the way their wings shine when they pass in front of the gray mountain.

"I do not trust those creatures," Vecla says. "They move with greater purpose than the flying lizards that circled the volcano, as if they are more than common animals. We should keep moving."