The spell was broken, now. The recklessness was back, and the fierce surge of ambition. That, and something more ... a something Haral could not quite touch. He laughed aloud. "I'm leaving now, Sark!" he cried. "I'm leaving, and I'm taking the woman with me. Blast us if you will!" The blandness fell from Sark. He half rose from his seat, his face contorted. "You _chitza_--!" Haral laughed again. "Blast, Sark!" he mocked. "But if you do, remember--your chance for the girl dies with me!" "_Stabat! Zanat! Starbo_--" "Go ahead, great _gar_! Blast us! Take your chances on what you can learn from old Namboina!" Slowly, then, Sark sank back into his chair. His eyes were like live coals, incredibly baleful. "Go!" he choked thickly. "Go, for now, you _chitza_! Take your woman and your _hwalon_ and your light-lance! My day will come, and when it does, you'll pray for a death that will not answer! You and the woman--you'll share your agony together, and in the end I'll still claim Xaymar's secret--" Haral said: "Perhaps. Or perhaps it will be you who rots in hell instead." Bleakly, he wheeled the _hwalon_; and to the crowd he shouted, "There's death in my lance for the man that follows!" Then, weapon ready, the girl close against him, heedless of the steaming hate and curses of the mob that parted before him, he rode away. CHAPTER III They rode fast and in silence--first skirting the outskirts of the town; then plunging full-tilt into the tangled maze that was the native quarter. The Ulno Haral had hired on the chance he'd need someone to hide the _hwalon_ was already waiting at the appointed place. But the blue man rode on past the primitive with no sign of recognition, pausing instead around the next corner, by the entrance to a blackly burrow-like dead-end alley. There he let the girl called Kyla down. For the first time since their escape, he spoke to her: "We'll take cover now, for a little while, priestess. Wait here in the shadows for me till I can hide my dragon. It won't take long--ten _samori_, maybe." Wordless, eyes inscrutable, the lovely _Shamon_ nodded. Haral flashed her a tense smile. Then, wheeling the _hwalon_, he rode back in the direction from which they'd come. But the instant he was out of sight around the corner, he dropped from the saddle and waved up the Ulno to take the nightmare steed. Another moment, and he was peering warily towards the spot where he'd left Kyla. But already the slim young priestess had abandoned her post. She was hurrying away, instead--running off down the narrow, crooked street, just as he'd gambled that she would. It was ever dusk in these cramped warrens, where the yellow sky showed only straight up. Now, too, the purple Ulnese night drew near at hand. Black rivers of shadow were taking form at the bases of the buildings. Taking advantage of every unevenness and entryway and patch of murk, Haral followed Kyla.