For a time while Croft sickened both at the sight of the uncouth male and the physically lovely woman--the spectacle of beauty and the beast sunk in the unclean orgy of a filthy rite, and at the decision resting upon it. Ptah said nothing, and after a time he straightened and lifted his hands toward the ceiling. "Bel, I, Ptah, thy servant, hear thee," he intoned hoarsely. "An augury--an augury!" Kalamita panted. "What says the Strong One? Speak, Ptah, that I as well may know his pleasure." Ptah lowered his back-tilted head. "Naught but the child may prevail to save Zollaria in this matter," he made somewhat cryptic answer after the manner of his calling. But Kalamita sprang up, her red lips parted, her nostrils flaring--a light of unholy satisfaction in her eyes. "Then," she began, her tone tensely vibrant-- "Nay." Ptah raised a hand. "It lies with Helmor. Him must you persuade to give ear to Bel's decision." "Or"--she bent toward him, laying her blood-dabbled hands against his mighty torso--"were the child brought into the temple--" "Hah!" Ptah's eyes fired. "Bel himself has spoken to thee also, Priestess of Adita. Were the child within this temple none, not even Helmor, would have the power to regain him, and were Helmor to know a third defeat, one more bidable to the gods might mount the throne." For a moment there was silence, and then Kalamita said slowly, "An' he listens not to Bel's message, perchance the Strong One will show me a way to gain our ends." Ptah nodded. "Perchance, Priestess." A glance of understanding passed between them, and Kalamita moved toward the door. "Be prepared to act quickly should such time arrive," she prompted, and was gone. False--utterly false--to her womanhood, to her nation, Zollaria's magnet would plot even treason if thereby she fancied she could serve her ends. The realization burst on Croft with a force little short of appalling. Filled with an intolerable sense of loathing, he followed her back to Bandhor's palace, and then returned to Himyra, he opened the eyes of his physical form, and groaned. Sunlight fell into his chamber. A semi-tropic warmth was all about him, and yet, all at once he shivered as with cold. CHAPTER VIII THE DREAM OF HELMOR Kalamita and Ptah. He knew not wholly what they plotted, what plans might lie in their brains. Yet whatever they might intend certain it was that the death of Jason, son of Jason, was included in the plan. And whatever that plan might be, Croft was assured that the priest had taken time to weigh many matters while he bent above the entrails of the tabur suckling, before he had given voice to his none too explicit interpretation of their meaning.