A prickling ran up and down his spine. For they walked a corridor of death, a passage carpeted with bones ... the bones of those who once had ruled this mighty city. A thousand skulls stared up at them, a hollow-eyed horror. Skeletons spread in heaps and tangles, rising on all sides like some rank, evil fungus. Kyla's voice came through the darkness: "You wonder why we hate all aliens, warrior? Once, a thousand years ago, this was our proudest _Shamon_ city. Then the first ships came out of space to Ulna. They hurled down bombs, and my people sought to hide here from them. But gas came with the bombs--a heavy gas, and deadly. It seeped into these ancient tunnels, and those who survived the blasts, the radiation, died by thousands--yes, by millions...." The girl's voice broke. Her horror, her pain, pressed in on Haral. But he dared not let himself think of them. He said sharply: "This is no time for talk! Any moment, the coleoptera may be upon us. Those ships that passed above us, too--they may have been Sark's. If Namboina's told where Xaymar lies, Sark's men may beat us to her. If we're to find her first, we must go quickly--" "Yes, quickly!" Again Kyla's trembling hand seized his. She led the way down a long, steep ramp, then on through what seemed endless blackness. "The old books say these tunnels end beneath the Triad. And then, below that--there lies our sleeping goddess, Xaymar!" On they toiled, and on. Twice, in the ebon murk, they heard the muffled rattle of coleopteran mandibles. Once, the beetles' acrid stench rose rank and close into their nostrils. "Pray to your gods, warrior, that they do not guess our goal in time to head us off," Kyla whispered hoarsely. "Pray to your own, and my light-lance!" Haral answered harshly. He shifted, striving to ease the pain that still throbbed out from his wounded shoulder. Numbly, he wondered how much longer he could go on. They came out of the tunnel, then, into a vast, echoing subterranean chamber. "Now we must have light to find our way," the priestess said. "Already we are beneath the Triad." Haral flicked on his lance's illumination cell. * * * * * The room stretched as far as its beam would throw. Other tunnels debouched from the walls on every side. "This way," said Kyla. "Xaymar's shrine lies beneath the central staircase." Together, they picked a path through more jumbled bones to the middle of the vast concourse, then descended down the stair they found there in spiral after spiral. As they went down, the stink of the coleoptera grew steadily stronger. "If this should be a trap--" Haral began. "There is no other way," the priestess answered. The staircase ended in a circular room. High ledges lined its walls. In the center stood a great bronze ball, high as a tall man's head and set in a base of polished stone. Markings were etched upon it, markings that matched the configurations of this wild outlaw world of Ulna.