They tried again, by another alley--the one down which Jarl had come when he left the carrier. He almost imagined he could make out the ship's slim silver form far off in the vastness of the port, in spite of the obscuring night. But again, between them and the sprawling ramping-place, stood sinister figures. Jarl rested his shoulders against the wall of a rambling _fala_ hostel. He felt old beyond belief; incredibly weary. His muscles ached with tension. Sais touched his arm. "Jarl...." Her voice was a ragged whisper. He sucked in air. "Wait here a moment." Once more, in dead silence, he moved forward, skirting the pool of greenish glow that marked the hostel's entry. Cat-footed, taut, he made his way along the wall towards the port, the shadow-figures. Only then, without warning, a spear of light lanced through the darkness. An energy-bolt splintered stone bare inches from his shoulder. He dived back by instinct; landed running. In the same instant a cry went up--the wild hunting-cry of Bor Legat's raiders. Jarl caught Sais' hand and dashed for the corner of the building. From behind them came a pelting rush of feet, a babble of fierce, life-thirsting voices. The night blazed with the fire of raider weapons. Barely in time, they made the corner. Panting, they lunged on into the maze of alleys. But then, ahead of them, rose other voices. New figures loomed; new weapons flamed and echoed. Jarl catapulted Sais into an entryway. Savagely, he kicked at the door's lock. * * * * * The door burst open. Beyond lay the blackness of an ebon sack, thick enough to cut. The air that puffed out was stale and dead, heavy with a musty smell of age, abandonment, disintegration. Jarl pushed inside and heeled the door shut. The clamor of the alley faded. Breathing hard he groped through the room. Thick dust scuffed up beneath his feet. Sais clung to his hand, fingers slick with icy sweat. "Which way--?" She was half-sobbing. "Up!" Jarl clenched his teeth. "There's got to be a stair, a ladder!" They felt their way through another room. Another, and another. Then: "Jarl--! I've found it!" Jarl wheeled, moving to her. He touched the edge of worn stone steps. "Come on!" They climbed through the murk, and Jarl thought of _quirsts_ and _hwins_--a thousand deadly, crawling, nameless horrors. But there was no other way, no faintest chance. Tight-jawed, he shoved his thoughts back and stumbled higher. Three levels they climbed. Then the stone steps ended. Numb, rigid, Jarl felt his way to an outer room. Stars shone faintly through a window. Sais still at his heels, he crossed to the casement and looked out. Far below, the shouts and curses of Bor Legat's men still echoed. But Jarl paid them no heed. He had eyes only for the flat-topped _llorin_ dwelling that crowded next to this structure in which he had found temporary haven.