Her nails raked bloody paths along his sides. Her feet beat at his shinbones. Haral cursed her--and then, bringing her face to his by sheer brute strength, he kissed her. Her body went limp against him. Her bruised lips welcomed his. He breathed deep; straightened. "And now--we'll see what's hidden beneath that veil!" Her body went rigid again. She twisted as he clutched for the jeweled mask. "No, blue man--" He caught the veil and ripped it off. In the same instant, before he could see her face, the light snapped out. They stood there in the darkness, then, adventurer and goddess, bodies tight together, the silence broken only by the hoarse rasp of their breathing. Then Haral said, "I can wait as long as you can, Xaymar." She laughed softly. "You leave no doubt about your daring, do you, warrior? Nor am I even angry with you for it. I like a man with the strength to take what he desires. But not quite yet. You'll have to wait a little while." "Then you'll wait, too--till the light goes on again." "Must I?" The mocking note crept back into her tone. "Don't press the gods of chance too far...." "You'll wait," Haral said. As he spoke, he felt something touch his backbone a little above his waist. The next second two great claws clutched him just below the ribs. He stiffened. Xaymar laughed again. "We'll wait!" she mocked him. "We'll wait till the light goes on--or a coleopteron rips out your backbone!" Haral stood motionless. His hands all at once were slick with sweat. Xaymar's ripe body came full against him. Her hands touched his face, pulled his lips down to hers. Then--fiercely, brutally--as he had kissed her, she kissed him. Her words came, a vibrant whisper: "You are the one who's mad, blue man! But it is a madness that can lead you to your own dark destiny--if you live!" She twisted free. * * * * * There was a moment of black silence. Then the light snapped on. Once more the veil masked Xaymar's face as it had before. The mandibles let go of Haral. Stiffly, he looked around. Half a dozen of the great scarlet beetles stood within the lighted circle, watching him with cold, multi-faceted insectile eyes. He shuddered. As if there had been no interruption, Xaymar said: "You wonder why I let Sark go. But I had no choice. He told of a thing called a cymosynthesizer with which he could destroy our planetoid of Ulna." "And if he lied--?" "He did not. I looked into his brain and saw he spoke the truth as best he knew it." "You ... looked into his brain?" "I have that power." Xaymar's smile was cryptic, whether with dark mirth or ancient wisdom Haral could not say. "Thoughts to me are things to grasp like tools or weapons. When I focus my brain I can turn another mind inside out and drain it dry." An uneasiness chilled Haral's spine. "You speak in jest...."