The girl led him a dizzy chase through jumbled streets and alleys, a world of strange smells and sounds and dull-witted, blank-eyed, two-headed Ulnos. Twice, only the glint of her long, blonde, _Shamon_ hair kept him from losing her. Then, abruptly, she halted. Giving no attention to the vaguely-curious glances of nearby Ulnos, Haral drew back into the angle where two buildings came together. Pressed flat to the wall, he watched while Kyla peered this way and that, as if searching for some sign of pursuit. A moment later she disappeared into the shadow-shrouded entrance of a shabby building. Swiftly, Haral ran after her. But instead of approaching the door, he slipped down a narrow cleft between the place she'd entered and the one next to it. * * * * * A slot of window showed above him. Bracing his back against one wall, his feet against the other, he levered himself swiftly upward till he could peer through the casement. It opened into an empty room. A kick from one mailed foot burst it open. Another moment, and Haral himself stood inside. Across the room was a door. Moving silently to it, he opened it a crack and listened. From down the hall that ran outside came faint sounds of movement. Peering through the gloom, Haral caught a glint of light. Then a door opened. More light flooded out. He glimpsed Kyla in silhouette as she left the one room and went into another. Now light blazed from the second room. Then that door closed, and there were sounds of running water. Haral smiled thinly and loosened his ray-gun in its holster. Quickly, quietly, he walked down the hall to the room from which the girl had come. Bleak and bare and windowless, it was sparsely furnished with a cot, table and two chairs. The clothes Kyla had worn--the cloak, the tablet, all her priestess' habit--were strewn across the cot. One of the self-sealing plastic boxes such as was used on Ulna for packing garments lay open on the table. Across the hall, the sounds of running water ceased. Silently, Haral stepped on into the room and behind the door. He caught the click of a latch: then the firm rhythm of Kyla's footsteps as she came towards this chamber where he stood in hiding. She was humming softly as she entered--a weirdly lilting tune Haral had never heard before. Now, too, she wore the scant, filmy garments so favored by _Shamon_ women. No indication that she was one of Xaymar's priestesses remained. While Haral watched in silence, she picked up a comb and began to smooth her shimmering, waist-long wealth of silken hair. Haral said: "You're very lovely, Kyla--you treacherous little _slazot_!" The girl whirled, her eyes suddenly big with terror. Her hand clutched her throat. Her breasts rose and fell too fast. Her lips moved: "You--You...." Haral poured acid into his voice: "My name's Haral, Kyla. Remember? I'm the man who saved your pretty carcass from Sark's arena not so very long ago."