The man moved on into the center of that hall, his wings, too, now rising. While his body, even to arms and legs, was hidden in a glossy red mesh, he wore about his narrow waist a wide belt of silver scales which supported a weapon; Farree recognized it from pictures in Zoror's collection: it was known as a sword. The man's hands played with the buckle of the belt and he was frowning, his eyebrows near drawn together by a scowl. Now he stood staring down at the pavement as if he might find on the surface some answer to a problem which troubled him.
His companion did not come so far into the room. She held up her head as might one who was searching the sky and it was plain that her attention was caught by something which she sought aloft. Before either of them moved farther or spoke, if they did speak aloud, there sounded another note of summons, this time a double one which might come from within the earth. Two more of the panels opened, but those who entered thus were very different from the first comers.
They were small and they were wingless. Their shoulders were hunched a little forward, almost as if they were used to walking ways where the roofs pressed closer to the footing.
Both arms and legs to the knees were bare, showing rough brown skin, wrinkled and pocked with small dark splotches. Their bodies were covered with clothing almost the same shade as their flesh. And, far from being beardless, the faces of both were covered from the cheek bones down with mats of crinkled yellow-white hair, thatches of the same apparently covering their heads, as tufts appeared under the edges of dingy, rust-red caps. Their features—large hooked noses and deep-set eyes—were nearly masked, and as they drew nearer together and came forward a few steps, there was the air of suspicion about them, as if they were far from easy in this place or with such company.
The winged man looked about and jerked his head in a nod which both the gnarled creatures echoed. However, the woman continued to look aloft, now turning her head as if so to view the whole of the large chamber. She took no note of the newcomers.
A third sound followed speedily on those which had brought the bearded ones. A last panel opened and there came through a masked figure who, because of its muffling, could not be clearly named man or woman. The mask has been made to cover the whole head, fastened at the shoulders on either side of the throat with dull brown brooches. It had been fashioned to resemble the head of a beast, even to a covering of bristles, like needle spikes, planted along the large pointed ears and across the back, as well as along the drooping jowls, which helped to form the face (if one might term it that). There was no true nose, only a snout above a half open mouth. Small eyes were dark pits on either side of that snout, and there had been set in place within the jaw a full showing of greenish-yellow teeth with a rounded fore-fang sprouting out both to the right and the left.
The robe about the body of the newcomer was masklike also, falling in many folds. In color it was red, and over its surface were black lines which appeared to move with each step the creature took, sometimes forming patterns, only to dissolve at the next forward movement.
As the masked one advanced, ponderously, as if the robe covered a large bulk, the two capped men drew back hurriedly and shifted to one side so that the winged man was between them and Beast Head. Again the woman paid no attention to latest addition to their company, her head remaining up, her eyes searching.
It was Beast Mask who broke the silence. He spoke gutturally, almost as if he found speech difficult for his tongue and lips to shape. The words he spoke were slurred into a monotone.
"Why the summons?"
It was the man who answered him, though somehow Farree was surprised that he did so in audible speech:
"They have come in greater force. Also they have more bait—one who has been turned to their service—"
"Where?" the Beast wanted to know.
"They have landed their hunting cage in the Valley of Vore," the woman replied, never looking away from whatever she must be seeking.
One of the small men laughed and the sound was like a rusty bolt grating in a long disused lock. "Ah, and them what sleep—they have stirred!"
There was a moment of silence. Farree believed that perhaps of them all he could read the greatest surprise in the attitude of Beast Mask.
"There cannot be an answer." That voice came even more harshly. "The dead have long since returned their substance to the earth. That which was the real part of them fled upon the coming of the strokes which separated them from life—"
"Ho." Again the dwarf laughed. "Good teaching that. So we can lie snug and not think of old ill acts and the payment thereof. The earth hides much—but its doors lie open to us!" He held his head back and as far above his bowed shoulders as he might. "Bind the dead down with wand—even with iron"—Farree noted the small start of the winged man at that word—"and there comes a day when ties will break, for even iron is eaten by rust. Do not think that you are rid of the Hunters and the Shield men because they were planted with the best of your spelling. Time may also wear that thin—"
He was interrupted by the woman. Her head had moved down and now it seemed to Farree that she was looking directly at him: her eyes widened with surprise and she held out one hand towards him, her fingers crooked in what he guessed was a warning sign.
"There is one here!" Her words came as sharp as a knife thrust.
All the others stared in his direction now. The man had drawn the sword, the blade of which looked like a flame stiffened into a slightly curving length. Had Farree been able he would have fled. However, that which had brought him here did not release its hold on him.
"Who?" the man demanded of the woman. Beast Mask had moved up beside her, snout seeming to expand, as if its wearer could indeed pick up an alien scent.
"Atra—" The gross voice within the mask pronounced that word as if it were a loathsome oath.
The woman answered with a decided shake of her head. "Not her, no. They may have made her their tool, but she would carry then the stench of them with her. This one comes not in body—"
Beast Mask brought out of body wrappings a hand which was long and thin in contrast to the rest. This was turned palm upward. Farree caught a suggestion of gutter from a round disk which appeared fixed to the hollow frame of flesh and bone.
A finger of color, or colors, for it was rainbow hued, corkscrewed about, aiming in Farree's direction. The woman uttered a single word and that hand shook, while Beast Mask gave a short cry as from pain. The man was beside the woman with one stride, his wings fanning out so the tip of one came near to buffeting Beast Mask.
"Fool!"
"Fool, thrice fool yourself!" spat back the masked one. "How do we know what weapons the Hunters have made for themselves through the centuries of time? Can it not be that they have projected a defense to cover the incoming of a spy? What have we done? Gone behind our cloud walls, sealed ourselves in as a way of escape. I tell you that this will never rid us of these vermin who have trailed us on through space for more than five lifetimes of the Star!"