And then I saw it was swimming! A needle-fish the length of a man, with a nose two feet long, pointed and stiff as a rapier! With increasing speed it was swimming downward directly at the King! A second or two of confused thought too rapid for action. The needle-fish was darting downward faster now than a thrown spear. The King was unaware of it. The fish’s rapier nose would run him through from back to chest! I found myself gripping the King’s legs, trying to pull him down. But another figure from near at hand dove at him. The Marinoid girl who had taunted the half-breed! Her arms went around the King’s neck. . . . A flash of silver as the needle-fish came at them. . . . A choking female cry. . . . The girl’s body sank to the roof-top at the feet of the startled King. On her face, inert, she lay with the fish like a sword-blade buried in her back! The King was unhurt. He was shouting commands at the excited crowd. Overhead there was a scuffle—a scream of anguish; the half-breed’s body—he who had launched the needle-fish—came slowly down to us. . . . I saw a dozen spears from the enraged crowd sticking in it. We lifted up the girl—grotesque to my mind with her four arms—but by Marinoid standards one of their greatest beauties. She was still alive. Thoughtlessly, I pulled the fish from her wound, broke its sword-blade nose across my knee—snapped its slim body as one would snap a length of string. A thoughtless act! From the wound the girl’s blood gushed. It spread like smoke in air; the water all around us was pink. Atar had his arms about the girl. Then he got to his feet; and with a command to the crowd to disperse, he swam away to fetch the man of medicine. The King and I knelt by the girl. Atar would be too late; she was dying. “Child,” said the King gently, “soon you will be healed and strong again. And never shall I forget what you did for me today.” But she shook her head weakly; her lips, twisted with pain, were trying to smile at him. Her words were low, halting; the King and I bent lower to hear them. “Loyal—subjects! _I_ was loyal. Didn’t—mean to start—any trouble. You—forgive me?” “Yes,” said the King. “Don’t talk now, child.” “Loyal,” she repeated. “Everyone should be—loyal to his King. I’m—glad I could show— To die for—” The blood gushing from her mouth stopped the words; but her eyes were still smiling—smiling as they glazed and the light faded from them. CHAPTER XXV “Nona,” I said, “do you wish to go to this merry-making? . . . Caan, should I take her?” It was two days after the attempted assassination of the King. I had not yet seen the cavern where the King was preparing for war. I was going there after this next time of sleep. We in Rax—the King, Atar, Caan and I—were much perturbed at the turn affairs were taking We knew now that Og’s emissaries were among us. But they kept themselves hidden—talking secretly to the half-breeds, to all who sympathized with the Maagogs.