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The strain of his effort, whatever its purpose, was easy to read in the contorted line of his shoulders. Then the wall slid under Loketh's urging, a slow move as if the weight of the slab he strove to handle was almost too great for his slender arms, or else the need for caution was intensified here.
To Which there is no appeal, and Which holds a vast and enduring hatred for that which has life and full substance." "So Zahur has this new magic. Is it the gift of Shades or Shadow?" Ross brought them back to the subject which had sparked in him a small warning signal. "Zahur prospers mightily." Loketh's answer was ambiguous. "And so the Shadow could not provide such magic?" The Terran pushed.
Who those raiding sea strangers could be, he had no idea, but that he was now condemned out of his own mouth was true and he realized that these men were not going to listen to any argument from him in their present state of mind. The growl of the crew was that of a hungry animal. Ross saw the wisdom in Loketh's choice. Far better chance the open sea than the mob before them.
The citadel of the Foanna was distinctly forbidden ground, not only for Loketh's people but also for the Foanna's Hawaikan followers who were housed and labored in an outer ring of fortification-cum-village. Those natives were, Ross gathered, a hereditary corps of servants and warriors, born to that status and not recruited from the native population at large.
Ross interrupted. They both looked at him inquiringly, and he repeated Loketh's story of the Wrecker lord who had had dealings with a "voice from the mountain" and so gained the wrecking devices to make him the dominant lord of the district. "So!" Torgul exclaimed. "That is the evil of this Shadow in the mountains!
"Foanna the wise learn what lies before them when they walk alone in the dark." The Hawaikan speech was stilted, accented, but understandable. Ross stood motionless. Had they somehow seen him through Loketh's eyes? Or had they been alerted merely by the Hawaikan's call? They believed he was one of the Foanna. Well, he would play that role. "Foanna!" Sharper this time, demanding.
The lean Hawaikan arms, the thin Hawaikan face, drawn of feature, painfully blank of expression Loketh under the same dread spell as had held the warriors in the citadel courtyard. Could the aliens be using this Hawaikan captive as a defense shield, moving up behind him? Loketh's head turned, those blank eyes regarded Ross. And their depths were troubled, recognition of a sort returning.
They had had the longer part of the day in the cave before Loketh would agree to venture out of hiding and paddle south. Ross, using the analyzer, had, with Loketh's aid, set about learning what he could of the native tongue.
The haze he had been only half conscious of when they had put out from the tiny secret bay where Loketh kept his boat, was truly a fog, piling up in soft billows and cutting down visibility with speed. "The Foanna!" Loketh's answer was sharp, a recognition of danger. "Their magic they hide their place so! There is trouble, trouble on the move!" "Do we land then?"
A handful of warriors in the water can risk the gate, but not a ship." Ashe broke in, "How many gill-packs do we have?" Ross counted hurriedly. "I left one cached ashore. But there's mine and Karara's and Loketh's also two more " "To pass the gates," that was the Foanna, "we ourselves shall not need your underwater aids." "You," Ross said to Ashe, "and I with Karara's pack " "For Karara!"
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