She had donned banqueting dress carried up with her from the ship, a clinging robe of the light-rippling silk of Hiung-nu, a scarlet cloak that was like a rush of flame from her slim bare shoulders, barbarically massive bracelets and necklaces, a single fire-ruby burning at her white throat. Pearls and silver glittered like dewdrops in her night-black hair. The loveliness of her caught at Corun's throat. He could only stare with dumb longing as she went after Shorzon and the Xanthi. She turned to wave at him. Her whisper twined around his heart: "Goodnight, beloved." When they were gone, the erinye padding after them, Imazu gave Corun a rueful look and said, "So now we are out of the story." "Not yet," answered the Conahurian, still a little dazed. "Oh, yes, oh, yes. Surely you do not think that we plain sailormen will be asked for our opinions? No, Corun, we are only pieces on Shorzon's board. We've done our part, and now he will put us back in the box." "Chryseis said--" Imazu shook his scarred bald head sadly. "Surely you don't believe a word that black witch utters?" Corun half drew his sword. "I told you before that I'd hear no word against Chryseis," he said thinly. "As you will. It doesn't matter, anyway. But be honest, Corun. Strike me down if you will, it doesn't matter now, but try to think. I've known Chryseis longer than you, and I've never known anyone to change their habits overnight--for anyone." "She said--" "Oh, I think she likes you, in her own way. You make as handsome and useful a pet as that erinye of hers. But whatever else she is after, it is something for which she would give more than the world and not have a second thought about it." Corun paced unhappily. "I don't trust Shorzon," he admitted. "I trust him as I would a mad pherax. And anything Tsathu plans is--evil." He glared down the cavernous mouth of the ramp. "If I could only hear what they say!" "What chance of that? We're under guard, you know." "Aye, so. But--" Struck with a sudden thought, Corun went over to the window. The rain had ceased outside, but a solid wall of fog and night barred vision. It was breathlessly hot, and he heard the low muttering of thunder in the hidden sky. * * * * * There were vines growing on the wall, tendrils as thick as a man's leg. The broad leaves hung down over the sill, wet with rain and fog. "I remember the layout of the castle," he said slowly. "It's a warren of tunnels and corridors, but I could find my way to the feasting hall." "If they caught you, it would be death," said Imazu uneasily. Corun's grin was bleak. "It will most likely be death anyway," he said. "I think I'll try." "I'm not as spry as I once was, but--" "No, no, Imazu, you had best wait here. Then if anyone comes prying and sees you, he'll think we're both here--maybe."