"Then hear Kalamita's price for the pale-faced one and her suckling." The woman leaned a trifle forward as she named them. "Mazhur must be returned--the Gateway must be opened without let or hindrance. There must be no tax exacted over Zollarian traffic on the Central Sea. There must be surrendered with men to explain them the secrets of your moturs and your air machines, and of all other devices born of the Mouthpiece of Zitu's brain--the fire weapons, the balls that burst when thrown amidst an enemy's forces. Name these things as the price of ransom to your Mouthpiece when you return." "These seem heavy terms, indeed." Koryphu threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. His face was pale, even though Croft in their conversations had foreshadowed some such thing. "Were it not wiser for Zollaria to ask less with a chance of obtaining somewhat than to overshoot the mark by asking everything?" "Nay." Kalamita leaned back well pleased as it seemed by the man's quite natural confusion on being given a message that spelled little less than his country's ruin. "Nay, by Bel, Cathur--once there was a time when thy brother's plans and mine went down in confusion when Tamarizia demanded and Zollaria yielded. Now Zollaria speaks, and should Tamarizia not accept, or make any move to resist her demands by force of arms, Naia of Aphur goes to the mines with the blue men who labor in them and her puny offspring into Bel's mighty arms a paltry sacrifice. So much herself the woman understands--wherefore she sends this ring to Jason to plead as her own voice that he hearken to Kalamita's words." Stripping a signet from her finger, she extended it upon her palm. * * * * * Koryphu's features were strained as he took the ring. "These things I shall carry to Jason's ears. Does Kalamita await his answer?" "Nay--let Jason arrange the next meeting," said Kalamita. "I go to a place he knows not of, despite his man-made birds and their spying. Yet will a messenger on the highway north from Mazhur be met, and his message accepted. So I shall arrange. Perhaps if he feel need, he may employ one of these self-same flying devices." She broke off sharply as a commotion arose outside the lodge, then turned to Gor. "Go learn the cause of this disturbance--" Gor stalked to the door, and paused. "Mistress, they come," he declared, and drew back as a group of Zollarian guardsmen in charge of a captain entered, a man in leathern jacket and helmet held captive in their midst. With a start Croft recognized one of his own fliers. Disaster--already one of the planes had fallen, he thought, and heard the captain confirm his fears. The man saluted with upflung arm. "Behold, princess, one whom we bring before you--a Tamarizian dog--who fell with the device he rode like an arrow-pierced bird from the skies."