"I'll tell you the secret, warrior! I'll tell you why we left our goddess sleeping through all our hour of need!" Her lips parted. Her voice rose shrilly. "She's mad, that's the reason! Xaymar's mad! Mad with lust and power, and passion! Her beauty was a thing of shining splendor that no man could resist or deny. Each night she took a different lover--and then, at the dawn, at her command, each one was slain! She harnessed the lightning against our enemies--and when our own greatest city refused to send more of its sons to her for slaughter, she smashed it to rubble with her bolts! In her madness, it was she who gave the power of thought to the coleoptera--" She broke off, laughing wildly. Her face came close to Haral's, her body against his. "Would you waken her, warrior? Would you be the next to share her couch--and her graveyard? Beside her, Sark ranks as a saint--" There was a prickling along Haral's spine as he pushed her back. But she still clung to him. He could feel his tension climbing. It was as if Kyla had hypnotized him with her rush of words, her fierce burst of emotion. He said tightly: "You lie, Kyla! This is some kind of a trick--" Like magic, her hysteria vanished. "A trick? Of course! A good one--" She twisted, and he felt the wrench of his ray-gun being jerked from its holster. Before he could move, she had its muzzle between his teeth. Her triumphant voice echoed like the ring of steel on steel: "Your first move will be your last, blue man! You'll die if even a finger twitches!" Haral stood very still. From somewhere below came the creak of a door opening, then the muffled slam of its closing. Kyla laughed. Her eyes sparkled. "Did you speak of Namboina, warrior? Of how Sark would catch him? Yet here he comes now!" Haral spoke carefully: "Wrong, priestess! Those steps are too quick for old Namboina's!" * * * * * Watching her eyes, he could see the doubt flicker, then flare into panic. Her lips parted as she strained to hear. She fell back a step. The ray-gun in her hand was suddenly shaking. "If there's trouble," Haral observed, "that gun might prove surer in my hand than yours." "No! Stand back!" the girl cried. "I'll shoot for your face! Your armor won't save you!" The blue man halted. The approaching footsteps were closer now--coming lightly, swiftly, towards this room. Kyla pushed the door half shut, then stepped to its hinge side, gesturing Haral to a place before her. Her face was grey. Outside the room, the footsteps halted. The door pushed open. "Kyla--" It was the voice of a woman--a woman in the garb of Xaymar's order who hurried into the room. "Lyess--" cried Kyla. The ray-gun sagged in her hand. The newcomer whirled in fright. Her eyes flicked from the priestess to Haral. Kyla cried, "Why are you here, Lyess? Where is Namboina?" Her tone held a note of desperation.