– How can you draw nothing? – the girl laughed. And the coins in tight black braids jingled.
– It’s simple. You draw something and call it nothing.
The lines in the sand suddenly stirred, now they seemed to be drawing themselves, becoming more complex, painting themselves, choosing dark grains of sand on light sand. The picture began to glow, and behind, the young people from the camp of the Guardians saw words in a language they did not know.
– Good drawing, – they heard a mocking voice. It wasn’t of a human, they were sure.
