With a final heave of his strong young back and shoulders, Tomar, red-faced and gleaming with sweat, managed to force open the door against whatever counterweight had sealed it.
“There!” he grunted when it was done.
The girl cast him an appraising glance, running her eyes over the rigid muscles of his manly, young torso, as he held the door open. His half-naked body was like a work of sculpture, and the woman within her thrilled almost against her will at his display of strength.
For an instant, admiration glistened in her eyes and her soft lips parted. In the next she snapped her mouth shut and forced a sneer.
“Well, you’re good for something anyway, boy,” she grinned. Then she wormed past him and crept into the black opening before he could voice a protest or try to stop her.
“What are you doingl” he burst out in alarm. “Come backl”
“Pooh,” she sneered, or the Thanatorian equivalent thereof.
“But there may be more than one of them―too many for you to fight alonel” he cried.
“Then come in and back me up with some of those muscles you like to show off,” she suggested.
Tomar shrugged helplessly, an expression of bewilderment on his face. His lips framed a silent expletive, which I believe may be translated as “Women!,” and did as she had bidden him. Still bracing the door open, he entered the darkness that filled the hidden doorway. He could see nothing until she shone her light in his eyes.
“Well, come on, will you? Let’s explorel” she urged, her voice eager with excitement.
“But what about the door? It may not open from this side.”
“Well, block it with something, and let’s be about our business, she said impatiently, her voice now coming from some distance away.
“With what?” he almost yelled.
“Oh, here, I’ll do it myself,” the girl said furiously, leaning past him to insert the hilt of her dagger between the edge of the stone door and the wall. Reluctantly, Tomar relaxed his effort and let the door-slab slide gratingly back into place. It did not entirely shut, a crack of dim radiance showing in the gloom.
“That should do it, I guess,” he admitted. Ylana laughed shortly and observed in a tart voice that she had to think of everything on this adventure, and that all he was good for was musclework.
“Come on, let’s look around,” she urged, casting the beam of light about them. Its rays pierced the darkness, disclosing stone walls thick with dripping mold and unhealthily pallid fungus, but nothing else.
The air smelled dank and lifeless, as if vitiated from long confinement. Whatever method the Mind Wizards had employed to draw fresh air down from the upper world to circulate through their labyrinthine caverns obviously was not used here.
Suddenly the girl uttered a crow of triumph.
Her light speared a stone structure that interrupted the regularity of walls and flooring.
“A secret stair,” she breathed, excitement glistening in her eyes. And it was exactly that.
THEY debated about which course of action they should follow. Or, to be more precise, Tomar debated and Ylana refused to consider any of his ideas. The boy sensibly suggested it was time they went back to summon others to assist them in the search. Ylana stubbornly refused to hear of it.
“But, Ylana, it’s dangerous to go ahead on our own―suppose there are several of them in here?”
“Then you will defend me like the great, big hero you are,” she said with a wicked grin. He shrugged helplessly.
“But suppose there are too many of them for both of us to fight?”
“If you’re afraid, you can go back and wait for me in the weapon-room,” she advised. “It’ll be safe enough for you there, I suppose?”
Choking back an ungentlemanly word, Tomar subsided, seething inwardly. Every time he suggested doing something the reasonable or the sensible way, the girl had a tart rejoinder that made it seem his motives sprang from fear of danger, or trouble, or fighting. It proved more than the boy could cope with, and he gave up in despair.
THE stairs were hewn or somehow cut out of solid rock. They were narrow and steep, and remarkably slippery. The thick growth of mold that carpeted them crushed into slime underfoot.
But other feet had gone this same route, and very recently. For Ylana’s light clearly showed a trail of crushed mold leading up the stairs. Some of the fungoid growths had been smeared to slime so very recently, they still leaked an oily ooze.
They climbed the slippery stairs carefully, and slowly, holding on to each other, and talking in low whispers, when they spoke at all.
At the top of the stair, they found themselves at one end of a long tunnel cut through the bedrock beneath the valley floor.
Here the excavations had been performed in haste, and little effort had been taken by the diggers to smooth the walls and ceilings of the tunnel, which were ragged with masses of sharp mineral outcroppings. The floor of the tunnel was smooth enough under their feet, however, and aided by Ylana’s light, they went forward with good speed.
“We must be under the mountains,” puffed the boy after a time. “The valley wasn’t all that wide!”
“Perhaps,” Ylana nodded disinterestedly.
“But which mountains, I wonder?” he persisted. “If I remember the map on the silver amulet Jandar found, there was a range of mountains to the north and to the south, but nothing to the west. And more mountains to the eastern end of the valley, or that one big mountain, anyway, the one with the triple peak . . : ‘
“Will you stop talking?” the girl hissed venomously. “Just save your breath for walking. We have enough of it to do. This tunnel seems to go on forever…”
Suddenly the girl broke off, stopping short―so short that Tomar stumbled into her from behind. He was about to apologize when he noticed that she wasn’t saying anything, just standing there as if her strength had all at once given out, or her determination to pursue this reckless journey into danger, or possibly both. He grinned. It wasn’t often that Tomar thought of a taunt―more often he was on the receiving end of them.
“Well, I see you’ve stopping talking, yourself,” said he, slyly. “What’s the matter, are you running out of breath, after warning me against it?”
“Not quite,” said the girl in a strangely stifled voice.
“Well, then, why don’t you continue complaining about my oafish ways?” he grinned.
“It’s rather hard to talk,” she said in a strangled voice, “when somebody’s holding the point of a sword against your throat.”
Chapter 5
THE SIXTEENTH CORPSE
BEFORE the end of that day of attack and battle and victory, the warriors of the Three Cities were ready to depart for their distant homes on the other side of the planet.
Lukor and Ergon and Koja and the other nobles and officers and fighting men who would remain be. hind as the occupation force, to make certain of the destruction of Kuur, bade farewell to their friends and comrades.
The wounded and the former prisoners were all safely aboard, and the last instructions were given. Gear and provisions had been left behind in sufficient quantities to ensure the safety and also the comfort of the occupation troops. And, of course, one of the sky. ships remained, moored to the clifftop above the Gate to Kuur, for the use of the fighting men left behind. This was the Jalathadar, under Captain Haakon. Manned by a skeleton crew, the ship would bring the occupation force home when their tasks were con. cluded.