“Yes, but not until we have all left the caverns,” I added. “Some of the laboratories may contain deadly poisons or acids or powerful explosives. See to this, will you, Lukor?”
He accepted the responsibility with evident pleasure, but spoke up to suggest that a small force remain behind after the departure of the main fleet to make certain of things.
“Zantor and I were just discussing this very point,” I told him. “Zantor, if the Jalathadar is still as skyworthy as I believe she is, let’s leave her here under Haakon, with Lukor in charge of the occupation force.”
The Admiral nodded in agreement. Koja turned to me inquiringly, and spoke in his flat, metallic tones.
“Jandar, if Lukor remains to attend to the final tasks, I request permission to assist him.”
I told him he had my approval, if he felt he needed it. The witty, elegant, short-tempered and adventurous old masterswordsman and the solemn, emotionless Yathoon warrior had become the closest of friends, despite the many differences of race, background, and temperament between them.
By this time hundreds of warriors had emerged from the doorway in the cliff and stood about exchanging weary jests, binding their wounds, cleansing their bloody weapons, and taking nourishment. Others had brought down from the ship provisions of food and drink for the weary soldiers, and although merely field rations, they were delicious to hungry, thirsty men.
I dispatched Valkar in one of the flying gigs to the triple-crested mountain and he returned shortly with word that the ships captured from the First Expedition were safe, securely moored within a concealed cavern, and ready for the return flight.
“Good news, but no more than I had expected. Are all our people accounted for, Lukor?” The Ganatolian shook his head.
“Two parties are still missing,” he explained. “‘They were assigned to tracing the extent of the tunnels and have not yet returned. Also, one of the ex-prisoners and one crew-member of the Second Armada are missing. Neither had been assigned to the two search parties and I am unable to account for their whereabouts, unless they met and joined with one or another of the searching parties.”
“Oh? Who are these?” I inquired.
“Ylana the Jungle Maid and young Tomar,” said Lukor. “I last laid eyes on the boy when we were all mingling in the corridor, having just been released from our cells. As for the girl, she was fighting near me when we cut our path through the second complex of laboratories and storerooms. She may have sought out young Tomar after we crushed that pocket of resistance, for I believe that there exists … a certain fondness between those two.”
“Well, doubtless they will turn up soon enough,” I nodded. “Let me know when the missing search parties return. Zantor, let us begin getting the men back to their ships―the wounded and the former prisoners first. The men need rest badly. Lukor, take Sojan and Karan here and notify those who will remain behind as part of your occupation force. We must get their gear down from the ships. Zantor, will you assign crews to the Conqueress, the Arkonna, and the Jalathadar? We need to get them out of their moorings in the cavern, test them for air-worthiness, and see them fully reprovisioned. Then, once these matters are attended to, I see no reason why the combined fleets cannot begin the long voyage home … home to Shondakor and Tharkol, with the good news of victory and of the destruction of the greatest menace that has ever threatened our world!”
Chapter 4
THE SECRET STAIR
TOMAR studied the row of footprints that seemed to end against a stone wall, as if the person who had made them had somehow possessed the power to walk through solid barriers.
The boy was both excited and fascinated. He knew by sheer instinct that the discovery was of enormous importance, and he marveled at how easily they could have missed it. If they had not already explored the small room to know there had been no footprints, they could easily have overlooked them now. They were, after all, hunting for live enemies, not marks in the dust.
Tomar straightened up, coming to a swift decision. He turned to go but his companion laid her hand on his arm, staying him.
“What is it?”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to apprise Kadar of our discovery,” he said.
“Kadar?” she repeated. “Why Kadar? Let’s look into this, on our own―why share the credit with your lieutenant?”
“Because that’s the way things are done,” the boy murmured, with just a trace of exasperation in his voice. He began to explain military organization to the savage girl, realizing that her people were too primitive to have developed sophisticated codes of behavior like that which governed the legions of Shondakor the Golden. His words faded into silence, as soon as he found that Ylana was paying absolutely no attention to what he was patiently trying to explain. Instead, the girl was busily hunting through the weapons and gear and equipment with which the walls of the outer chamber were hung.
“What are you doing?” he inquired.
She flashed him a look of scorn.
“Hunting for a light, of course. It’s much too dark in that little cubbyhole to see. If your Mind Wizards have these magic lights in the ceiling, they may have portable ones, as well.” She pointed at the dimly luminous globe affixed by a bracket to the roof of the chamber.
Tomar grinned feebly. “That’s clever of you, Ylana,” he admitted. “I’d never have thought of that.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. Then, snatching up a metal tube to the end of which a dull globe of heavy crystal was fastened, she uttered an exclamation. Turning it upon him she did something which caused the globe to blaze suddenly with cold light.
With this clenched in one fist, she turned back to the small, dusty room and its mysterious footprints. Shining the light upon the wall against which the footprints ended, the girl began to rap and tap there on with the hilt of her knife, then to poke and probe into every crack with the knife’s point
Tomar watched her in silence for a moment, then cleared his throat and spoke up.
“I still think we should go back and tell Kadar what we have found,” he protested halfheartedly.
The girl paid him absolutely no attention, intent on what she was doing. He repeated the remark in a firmer tone.
“Tell him what?” she asked scathingly. “That you’ve found some marks in the dust? What do you expect him to say to that?”
“Well …”
“He’ll just tell you not to bother him with nonsense, and to come back again when you have really found something―something with a bit more substance to it, you ninny!”
“Well …” he faltered, then let the word fade away. There was, after all, something to be said for Ylana’s point of view. Perhaps it would be wiser to investigate more fully, rather than being in such a hurry to report the first clue they found.
“Maybe you’re right,” he mused.
“Of course I’m right, I’m always right,” she muttered absently. “Here―lend a hand―put your shoulders behind this…”
“This” was a hairline crack her probing had found in the apparently solid stone of the back wall. The tip of her blade had pried into it. Tomar obediently threw his strength into the breech.
“Careful, you hulking oaf, you’ll snap my blade!” the girl flared. With a sheepish grin he relaxed his effort. Heaving and prying, shoving and pulling, they widened the crack. Now it could clearly be seen that there was a secret door in the back wall of the tiny room. Obviously, there must have been some simpler and easier way to effect an entrance, some secret spring or catch that unlocked the hidden door. But they did not have time to hunt for it. Whoever had come this way had done so very recently. He or it was one of their enemies, and was—must be―attempting to hide from capture, or to make an escape to freedom. And every moment weighed in the balance.