Familiar only with the wave-riding outriggers, Dalgard took his seat
in the alien craft with misgivings. And oddly enough it also bothered
him to occupy a post which earlier had served not a nonhuman such as
Sssuri, whom he admired, but a humanoid whom he had been taught from
childhood to avoid--if not fear. The skiff was rounded at bow and
stern with very shallow sides and displayed a tendency to whirl about
in the current, until Sssuri, with his instinctive knowledge of
watercraft, used one of the queerly shaped paddles tucked away in the
bottom to both steer and propel them. They did not strike directly
across the river but allowed the current to carry them in a diagonal
path so that they came out on the opposite bank some distance to the
west.
Sssuri brought them ashore with masterly skill where a strip of sod
angled down to the edge of the water, marking, Dalgard decided, what
had once been a garden. The buildings on this side of the river were
not set so closely together. Each, standing some two or three stories
high, was encircled by green, as if this had been a section of private
dwellings.
They pulled the light boat out of the water and Sssuri pointed at the
open door of the nearest house. "In there--"
Dalgard agreed that it might be well to hide the craft against the
return. Although as yet they had found no physical evidence, other
than the dead hoppers, that they might not be alone in the city, he
wanted a means of escape ready if such a flight would be necessary. In
the meantime there was the snake-devil to track, and that wily
creature, if it had swum the river, might be lurking at present in the
next silent street--or miles away.
Sssuri, spear ready, was trotting along the paved lane, his head up as
he thought-quested for any hint of life about them. Dalgard tried to
follow that lead. But he knew that it would be Sssuri's stronger power
which would warn them first.
They cast east from where they had landed, studying the soil of each
garden spot, hunting for the unmistakable spoor of the giant reptile.
And within a matter of minutes they found it, the mud still moist as
Dalgard proved with an exploring fingertip. At the same time Sssuri
twirled his spear significantly. Before them the lane ran on between
two walls without any breaks. Dalgard uncased his bow and strung it.
From his quiver he chose one of the powerful arrows, the points of
which were kept capped until use.
A snake-devil, with its nervous system controlled not from the tiny,
brainless head but from a series of auxiliary "brains" at points along
its powerful spine, could and would go on fighting even after that
head was shorn away, as the first colonists had discovered when they
depended on the deadly ray guns fatal to any Terran life. But the
poison-tipped arrow Dalgard now handled, with confidence in its
complete efficiency, paralyzed within moments and killed in a
quarter-hour one of the scaled monstrosities.
"Lair--"
Dalgard did not need that warning thought from his companion. There
was no mistaking that sickly sweet stench born of decaying animal
matter, which was the betraying effluvium of a snake-devil's lair. He
turned to the right-hand wall and with a running leap reached its
broad top. The lane curved to end in an archway cut through another
wall, which was higher than Dalgard's head even when he stood on his
present elevation. But bands of ornamental patterning ran along the
taller barrier, and he was certain that it could be climbed. He
lowered a hand to Sssuri and hoisted the merman up to join him.
But Sssuri stood for a long moment looking ahead, and Dalgard knew
that the merman was disturbed, that the wall before them had some
terrifying meaning for the native Astran. So vivid was the impression
of what could only be termed horror--that Dalgard dared to ask a
question:
"What is it?"
The merman's yellow eyes turned from the wall to his companion. Behind
his hatred of this place there was another emotion Dalgard could not
read.
"This is the place of sorrow, the place of separation. But _they_
paid--oh, how they paid--after that day when the fire fell from the
sky." His scaled and taloned feet moved in a little shuffling war
dance, and his spear spun and quivered in the sunlight, as Dalgard had
seen the spears of the mer-warriors move in the mock combats of their
unexplained, and to his kind unexplainable, rituals. "Then did our
spears drink, and knives eat!" Sssuri's fingers brushed the hilt of
the wicked blade swinging from his belt. "Then did the People make
separations and sorrows for _them_! And it was accomplished that we
went forth into the sea to be no longer bond but free. And _they_ went
down into the darkness and were no more--" In Dalgard's head the chant
of his friend skirled up in a paean of exultation. Sssuri shook his
spear at the wall.
"No more the beast and the death," his thoughts swelled, a shout of
victory. "For where are _they_ who sat and watched many deaths? _They_
are gone as the wave smashes itself upon the coast rocks and is no
more. But the People are free and never more shall Those Others put
bonds upon them! Therefore do I say that this is a place of nothing,
where evil has turned in upon itself and come to nothing. Just as
Those Others will come to nothing since their own evil will in the end
eat them up!"
He strode forward along the wall until he came to the barrier,
seemingly oblivious of the carrion reek which told of a snake-devil's
den somewhere about. And he raised his arm high, bringing the point of
his spear gratingly along the carved surface. Nor did it seem to
Dalgard a futile gesture, for Sssuri lived and breathed, stood free
and armed in the city of his enemies--and the city was dead.
Together they climbed the barrier, and then Dalgard discovered that it
was the rim of an arena which must have seated close to a thousand in
the days of its use. It was a perfect oval in shape with tiers of
seats now forming a staircase down to the center, where was a section
ringed about by a series of archways. A high stone grille walled this
portion away from the seats as if to protect the spectators from what
might enter through those portals.
Dalgard noted all this only in passing, for the arena was occupied,
very much occupied. And he knew the occupiers only too well.
Three full-grown snake-devils were stretched at pulpy ease, their
filled bellies obscenely round, their long necks crowned with their
tiny heads flat on the sand as they napped. A pair of half-grown
monsters, not yet past the six-foot stage, tore at some indescribable
remnants of their elders' feasting, hissing at each other and aiming
vicious blows whenever they came within possible fighting distance.
Three more, not long out of their mothers' pouches scrabbled in the
earth about the sleeping adults.
"A good catch," Dalgard signaled Sssuri, and the merman nodded.
They climbed down from seat to seat. This could not rightfully be
termed hunting when the quarry might be picked off so easily without
risk to the archer. But as Dalgard notched his first arrow, he sighted
something so surprising that he did not let the poisoned dart fly.
The nearest sleeping reptile which he had selected as his mark
stretched lazily without raising its head or opening its small eyes.
And the sun caught on a glistening band about its short foreleg just
beneath the joint of the taloned pawhands. No natural scales could
reflect the light with such a brilliant glare. It could be only one
thing--metal! A metal bracelet about the tearing arm of a snake-devil!
Dalgard looked at the other two sleepers. One was lying on its belly
with its forearms gathered under it so that he could not see if it,
also, were so equipped. But the other--yes, it was banded!
Sssuri stood at the grille, one hand on its stone divisions. His
surprise equaled Dalgard's. It was not in his experience either that
the untamed snake-devils, regarded by merman and human alike as so
dangerous as to be killed on sight, could be banded--as if they were
personal pets!
For a moment or two a wild idea crossed Dalgard's mind. How long was
the natural life span of a snake-devil? Until the coming of the
colonists they had been the undisputed rulers of the deserted
continent, stupid as they were, simply because of their strength and
ferocity. A twelve-foot, scale-armored monster, that could tear apart
a duocorn with ease, might not be successfully vanquished by any of
the fauna of Astra. And since the monsters did not venture into the
sea, contact between them and the mermen had been limited to casual
encounters at rare intervals. So, how long did a snake-devil live?
Were these creatures sprawled here in sleep ones that had known the
domination of Those Others--though the fall of the master race of
Astra must have occurred generations, hundreds of years in the past?
"No," Sssuri's denial cut through that. "The smaller one is not yet
full-grown. It lacks the second neck ring. Yet it is banded."
The merman was right. That unpleasant wattle of armored flesh which
necklaced the serpent throat of the devil Dalgard had picked as his
target was thin, not the thick roll of fat such as distinguished its
two companions. It was not fully adult, yet the band was plain to see
on the foreleg now stretched to its full length as the sun bored down
to supply the heavy heat the snake-devils relished next to food.
"Then--" Dalgard did not like to think of what might be the answer to
that "then."
Sssuri shrugged. "It is plain that these are not wild roamers. They
are here for a purpose. And that purpose--" Suddenly his arm shot out
so that his fingers protruded through the slits in the stone grille.
"See?"
Dalgard had already seen, in seeing he knew hot and terrible anger.
Out of the filthy mess in which the snake-devils wallowed, something
had rolled, perhaps thrown about in play by the unspeakable offspring.
A skull, dried scraps of fur and flesh still clinging to it, stared
hollow-eyed up at them. At least one merman had fallen prey to the
nightmares who ruled the arena.
Sssuri hissed and the red rage in his mind was plain to Dalgard. "Once
more they deal death here--" His eyes went from the skull to the
monsters. "Kill!" The command was imperative and sharp.
Dalgard had qualified as a master bowman before he had first gone
roving. And the killing of snake-devils was a task which had been set
every colonist since their first brush with the creatures.
He snapped the cap off the glass splinter point, designed to pin and
then break off in the hide so that any clawing foot which tore out an
arrow could not rid the victim of the poisonous head. The archer's
mark was under the throat where the scales were soft and there was a
chance of piercing the skin with the first shot.
The growls of the two feeding youngsters covered the snap of the bow
cord as Dalgard shot. And he did not miss. The brilliant scarlet
feather of the arrow quivered in the baggy roll of flesh.
With a scream which tore at the human's eardrums, the snake-devil
reared to its hind feet. It made a tearing motion with the banded
forearm which scraped across the back of one of its companions. And
then it fell back to the blood-stained sand, limp, a greenish foam
drooling from its fangs.
As the monster that the dead devil had raked roused, Dalgard had his
chance for another good mark. And the second scarlet shaft sped
straight to the target.
But the third creature which had been sleeping belly down on the sand
presented only its armored back, a hopeless surface for an arrow to
pierce. It had opened its eyes and was watching the now motionless
bodies of its fellows. But it showed no disposition to move. It was
almost as if it somehow understood that as long as it remained in its
present position it was safe.
"The small ones--"
Dalgard needed no prompting. He picked off easily enough the two
half-grown ones. The infants were another problem. Far less sluggish
than their huge elders they sensed that they were in danger and fled.
One took refuge in the pouch of its now-dead parent, and the others
moved so fast that Dalgard found them difficult targets. He killed one
which had almost reached an archway and at length nicked the second in
the foot, knowing that, while the poison would be slower in acting, it
would be as sure.
Through all of this the third adult devil continued to lie motionless,
only its wicked eyes giving any indication that it was alive. Dalgard
watched it impatiently. Unless it would move, allow him a chance to
aim at the soft underparts, there was little chance of killing it.
What followed startled both hunters, versed as they were in the usual
mechanics of killing snake-devils. It had been an accepted premise,
through the years since the colonists had known of the monsters, that
the creatures were relatively brainless, mere machines which fought,
ate, and killed, incapable of any intelligent reasoning, and therefore
only dangerous when one was surprised by them or when the hunter was
forced to face them inadequately armed.
This snake-devil was different, as it became increasingly plain to the
two behind the grille. It had remained safe during the slaughter of
its companions because it had not moved, almost as if it had wit
enough _not_ to move. And now, when it did change position, its
maneuvers, simple as they were, underlined the fact that this one
creature appeared to have thought out a solution to its situation--as
rational a solution as Dalgard might have produced had it been his
problem.
Still keeping its soft underparts covered, it edged about in the sand
until its back, with the impenetrable armor plates, was facing the
grille behind which the hunters stood. Retracting its neck between its
shoulders and hunching its powerful back limbs under it, it rushed
from that point of danger straight for one of the archways.
Dalgard sent an arrow after it. Only to see the shaft scrape along the
heavy scales and bounce to the sand. Then the snake-devil was gone.
"Banded--" The word reached Dalgard. Sssuri had been cool enough to
note that while the human hunter had been only bewildered by the
untypical actions of his quarry.
"It must be intelligent." The scout's statement was more than half
protest.
"Where _they_ are concerned, one may expect many evil wonders."
"We've got to get that devil!" Dalgard was determined on that. Though
to run down, through this maze of deserted city, an enraged
snake-devil--above all, a snake-devil which appeared to have some
reasoning powers--was not a prospect to arouse any emotion except grim
devotion to duty.
"It goes for help."
Dalgard, startled, stared at his companion. Sssuri was still by the
grille, watching that archway through which the devil had disappeared.
"What kind of help?" For a moment Dalgard pictured the monster
returning at the head of a regiment of its kind, able to tear out this
grille and get at their soft-fleshed enemies behind it.
"Safety--protection," Sssuri told him. "And I think that the place to
which it now flees is one we should know."
"Those Others?" The sun had not clouded, it still streamed down in the
torrid heat of early afternoon, warm on their heads and shoulders. Yet
Dalgard felt as chill as if some autumn wind had laid its lash across
the small of his back.
"_They_ are not here. But they have been--and it is possible that they
return. The devil goes to where it expects to find them."
Sssuri was already on his way, running about the arena's curve to
reach the point above the archway through which the snake-devil had
raced. Dalgard padded after him, bow in hand. He trusted Sssuri
implicitly when it came to tracking. If the merman said that the
snake-devil had a definite goal in view, he was right. But the scout
was still a little bemused by a monster who was able to have any goal
except the hunting and devouring of meat. Either the one who fled was
a freak among its kind or--There were several possibilities which
could answer that "or," and none of them were very pleasant to
consider.
They reached the section above the archway and climbed the tiers of
seat benches to the top of the wall. Only to see no exit below them.
In fact nothing but a wide sweep of crushed brown tangle which had
once been vegetation. It was apparent that there was no door below.
Sssuri sped down again. He climbed the grille and was on his way to
the sand when Dalgard caught up with him. Together they ventured into
the underground passage which the snake-devil had chosen.
The stench of the lair was thick about them. Dalgard coughed, sickened
by the foul odor. He was reluctant to advance. But, to his growing
relief, he discovered that it was not entirely dark. Set in the roof
at intervals were plates which gave out a violet light, making a dim
twilight which was better than total darkness.
It was a straight passage without any turns or openings. But the
horrible odor was constant, and Dalgard began to think that they might
be running head-on into another lair, perhaps one as well populated as
that they had left behind them. It was against nature for the
snake-devils he had known to lair under cover; they preferred narrow
rocky places where they could bask in the sun. But then the devil they
now pursued was no ordinary one.
Sssuri reassured him. "There is no lair, only the smell because they
have come this way for many years."
The passage opened into a wide room and here the violet light was
stronger, bright enough to make plain the fact that alcoves opened off
it, each and every one with a barred grille for a door. There was no
mistaking that once this had been a prison of sorts.
Sssuri did no exploring but crossed the room at his shuffling trot,
which Dalgard matched. The way leading out on the opposite side
slanted up, and he judged it might bring them out at ground level.
"The devil waits," Sssuri warned, "because it fears. It will turn on
us when we come. Be ready--"
They were at another door, and before them was a long corridor with
tall window openings near the ceiling which gave admittance to the
sunlight. After the gloom of the tunnel, Dalgard blinked. But he was
aware of movement at the far end, just as he heard the hissing scream
of the monster they trailed.
6