It broke and cleared and there, as in a mirror, he saw a picture.

He saw himself lying stripped and dead, a poor, naked corpse with wide eyes that stared to heaven, and gashed throat and sides whence the blood ran upon the marble floor of his own great hall, ruined by fire, with its scorched pillars pointing like fingers to the moon.

There he lay alone, and by him stood a hound, his own hound, that lifted up its head and seemed to howl.
The last words of Tua's chant died away, and with them that picture passed.

Janees leapt back from the edge of the pool, glaring at Asti.
"Sorceress!" he cried, "were you not my guest who names herself the mother of her who shall be my Queen, I swear that to-night you should die by torture in payment of this foul trick of yours." "Yet as it is," answered Asti, "I think that I shall not die, since those who call upon the gods must not quarrel with their oracle.
Moreover, I know now what you saw, and it may be nothing but a fantasy of your brain or of mine.

Now let us sleep, I pray you, O King, for we are weary, and leave its secrets to the future.