And now Elak became conscious of a Presence. It was stygian black; yet in the tenebrous darkness there was a vague inchoate stirring, a sense of motion that was unmistakable. Without warning Elak saw--the Pallid One! A white and shining figure flashed into view. How tall it was, how close or distant, the man could not tell. Nor could he see more than the bare outline. A crawling, leprous shimmer of cold light rippled over the being; it seemed little more than a white shadow. But a shadow--three-dimensional, alive! The unearthly terror of Karkora, the Pallid One! The being seemed to grow larger. Elak knew he was watched, coldly and dispassionately. His senses were no longer dependable. It did not seem as though he beheld Karkora with his eyes alone--he was no longer conscious of his body. He remembered Dalan, and Dalan's god. And he cried silently upon Mider for aid. The shuddering loathing that filled him did not pass, but the horror that tore at his mind was no longer as strong. Again he cried to Mider, forcing himself to concentrate on the Druid god. Once more Elak called out to Mider. And, silently, eerily, a wall of flame rose about him, shutting off the vision of Karkora. The warm, flickering fires of Mider were a protective barrier--earthly, friendly. They closed in--drew him back. They warmed the chill horror that froze his mind. They changed to sunlight--and the sunlight was slanting in through the window, beside which Elak lay on his low bed, awake and shuddering with reaction. "By the Nine Hells!" he cursed, leaping up swiftly. "By all the gods of Atlantis! Where's my rapier?" He found it, and whirled it hissing through the air. "How can a man battle dreams?" He turned to Lycon, slumbering noisily nearby, and kicked the small man into wakefulness. "Hog-swill," said Lycon, rubbing his eyes. "Bring another cup, and swiftly, or I'll--eh? What's wrong?" * * * * * Elak was dressing hastily. "What's wrong? Something I didn't expect. How could I know from Dalan's words the sort of thing that's come to life in Atlantis?" He spat in disgust. "That leprous foulness shall never take the dragon throne!" He slammed his rapier into its scabbard. "I'll find Dalan. I'll go back with him. To Cyrena." Elak was silent, but deep in his eyes was a black horror and loathing. He had seen the Pallid One. And he knew that never in words could he hope to express the burning foulness of alien Karkora. But Dalan had vanished. It was impossible to find the Druid in teeming Poseidonia. And at last Elak gave up hope and determined to take matters into his own hands. A galley called _Kraken_ was leaving that day, he learned, and would beat up the western coast. In fact, by the time Elak had hired a boatman to take him and Lycon to the vessel, the galley's oars were already dipping into the swells.