"Fighting?" echoed Boada in a whip-like tone. "No, no, not fighting," Artana hastened to correct himself. "But danger, perhaps." Boada's brooding gaze came to rest inquiringly on Ross. "There can be no danger, I think," he assured her. And wondered why he did so. For if Horta was on the war path, surely the Earth ships would be his targets. He felt his heart beat faster as he considered the possibility of this amazing girl standing beside him in the control room of his flagship, then a moment of depression as he reflected that the queen would refuse her consent. But to his surprise Boada, after one dark look at the Lord of the Peaks, nodded. They left at once. There was a moment of delay when Illeria, given an oxygen helmet, demurred at the idea of wearing it until she was convinced that it would save her life if the shell of the rocket ship were pierced in the upper air. She wore it with ease, the straps fitting snugly over the flowing golden locks and the oxygen tubes crossing her face to add to the piquant enigmatic look she wore. The flagship took off with a rush, the six following ships keeping their distance. Once in the air, they formed the echelon. Then Ross turned to the princess, and led her to the telescopes trained through the floor of the ship. She studied the crater surfaces wonderingly, like a child with a strange toy. Then she remembered her duty. "Sail there," she directed, pointing. Amusedly, Ross gave the order. Privately Artana had given him a full description of the Great Cavern, so that once he had sighted it he could map his own course. But the girl had guided him truly. In a few minutes the yawning chasm lay on their bow. He called Moore. "All the cameras set?" "All set," grunted Moore, squinting through a glass. "Going to skirt the cavern?" Ross nodded. "No use tipping Horta off at the outset. We may get a good look without his knowing we're here." As the last word left his lips a cry from the port lookout froze the three in their places. They turned, fearfully. The lookout's face was working. As they watched, tears began to stream down his face. He tried to speak, but he could only point. Ross sprang to the window. The sky was clear, save for the following ships. Number Two, and Four, and Five. Six? Where was Six? And Seven? He whirled on the lookout. The man gulped, drew a deep breath, and said huskily, "There was a flash, sir, and--and then--nothing! Nothing, where Number Seven was flying! And then Number Six--went the same way!" Ross and Moore stared frantically at one another. Then Ross sprang to the signal post. "Jorgens! Where's Jorgens?" A white-faced signalman spoke up. "He's back at Peak Four, sir." "Oh, yes." Ross in his agitation had forgotten. "Well, signal Ships Two, Three, Four and Five to sheer off the Cavern and return to Peak Four!"