She slapped him hard across the mouth. "Tokra is an impotent old
dodderer. He can scarcely move for arthritis. You're an idiot! I sat on
his lap and kissed his bald pate for you."
"Then why did he give you a ritual phrase?" he asked stiffly.
"Because he likes me."
"You lie." He stalked angrily on.
"Very well! Go to the vaults. I'll tell my father, and they'll hunt you
down before you get there."
She released his arm and stopped. Asir hesitated. She meant it. He came
back to her slowly, then slipped his swollen hands to her throat. She
did not back away.
"Why don't I just choke you and leave you lying here?" he hissed.
Her face was only a shadow in darkness, but he could see her cool smirk.
"Because you love me, Asir of Franic."
He dropped his hands and grunted a low curse. She laughed low and took
his arm.
"Come on. We'll go get the hüffen," she said.
_Why not?_ he thought. _Take her hüffen, and take her too._ He could
dump her a few miles from the village, then circle back to the vaults.
She leaned against him as they moved back toward her father's
house, then skirted it and stole back to the field behind the row of
dwellings. Phobos hung low in the west, its tiny disk lending only a
faint glow to the darkness.
He heard the hüffen's breathing as they approached a hulking shadow
in the gloom. Its great wings snaked out slowly as it sensed their
approach, and it made a low piping sound. A native Martian species,
it bore no resemblance to the beasts that the ancients had brought
with them from the sky. Its back was covered with a thin shell like
a beetle's, but its belly was porous and soft. It digested food by
sitting on it, and absorbing it. The wings were bony--parchment
stretched across a fragile frame. It was headless, and lacked a
centralized brain, the nervous functions being distributed.
* * * * *
The great creature made no protest as they climbed up the broad flat
back and strapped themselves down with the belts that had been threaded
through holes cut in the hüffen's thin, tough shell. Its lungs slowly
gathered a tremendous breath of air, causing the riders to rise up as
the huge air-sacs became distended. The girth of an inflated hüffen
was nearly four times as great as when deflated. When the air was
gathered, the creature began to shrink again as its muscles tightened,
compressing the breath until a faint leakage-hiss came from behind. It
waited, wings taut.
The girl tugged at a ring set through the flesh of its flank. There
was a blast of sound and a jerk. Nature's experiment in jet propulsion
soared ahead and turned into the wind. Its first breath exhausted, it
gathered another and blew itself ahead again. The ride was jerky. Each
tailward belch was a rough lurch. They let the hüffen choose its own
heading as it gained altitude. Then Mara tugged at the wing-straps, and
the creature wheeled to soar toward the dark hills in the distance.
Asir sat behind her, a sardonic smirk on his face, as the wind whipped
about them. He waited until they had flown beyond screaming distance of
the village. Then he took her shoulders lightly in his hands. Mistaking
it for affection, she leaned back against him easily and rested her
dark head on his shoulder. He kissed her--while his hand felt gingerly
for the knife at her belt. His fingers were numb, but he managed to
clutch it, and press the blade lightly against her throat. She gasped.
With his other hand, he caught her hair.
"Now guide the hüffen down!" he ordered.
"_Asir!_"
"Quickly!" he barked.
"What are you going to do?"
"Leave you here and circle back to the vaults."
"No! Not out here at night!"
He hesitated. There were slinking prowlers on the Cimmerian plain,
beasts who would regard the marooned daughter of Welkir a delicious bit
of good fortune, a gustatory delight of a sort they seldom were able
to enjoy. Even above the moan of the wind, he could hear an occasional
howl-cry from the fanged welcoming committee that waited for its dinner
beneath them.
"Very well," he growled reluctantly. "Turn toward the vaults. But one
scream and I'll slice you." He took the blade from her throat but kept
the point touching her back.
"Please, Asir, _no_!" she pleaded. "Let me go on to the hills. Why do
you want to go to the vaults? Because of Tokra?"
He gouged her with the point until she yelped. "Tokra be damned, and
you with him!" he snarled. "Turn back."
"_Why?_"
"I'm going down to kindle the Blaze of the Winds."
"You're _mad_! The spirits of the ancients live in the vaults."
"I am going to kindle the Blaze of the Winds," he insisted stubbornly.
"Now either turn back, or go down and I'll turn back alone."
* * * * *
After a hesitant moment, she tugged at a wing-rein and the hüffen
banked majestically. They flew a mile to the south of the village, then
beyond it toward the cloister where the priests of Big Joe guarded the
entrance to the vaults. The cloister was marked by a patch of faint
light on the ground ahead.
"Circle around it once," he ordered.
"You can't get in. They'll kill you."
He doubted it. No one ever tried to enter, except the priests who
carried small animals down as sacrifices to the great Sleeper. Since no
outsider ever dared go near the shaft, the guards expected no one. He
doubted that they would be alert.
The cloister was a hollow square with a small stone tower rising in
the center of the courtyard. The tower contained the entrance to the
shaft. In the dim light of Phobos, assisted by yellow flickers from the
cloister windows, he peered at the courtyard as they circled closer. It
seemed to be empty.
"Land beside the tower!" he ordered.
"Asir--please--"
"Do it!"
The hüffen plunged rapidly, soared across the outer walls, and burst
into the courtyard. It landed with a rough jolt and began squeaking
plaintively.
"Hurry!" he hissed. "Get your straps off and let's go."
"I'm not going."
A prick of the knife point changed her mind. They slid quickly to the
ground, and Asir kicked the hüffen in the flanks. The beast sucked in
air and burst aloft.
Startled faces were trying to peer through the lighted cloister windows
into the courtyard. Someone cried a challenge. Asir darted to the door
of the tower and dragged it open. Now forced to share the danger, the
girl came with him without urging. They stepped into a stair-landing.
A candle flickered from a wall bracket. A guard, sitting on the floor
beneath the candle, glanced up in complete surprise. Then he reached
for a short barbed pike. Asir kicked him hard in the temple, then
rolled his limp form outside. Men with torches were running across the
courtyard. He slammed the heavy metal door and bolted it.
Fists began beating on the door. They paused for a moment to rest, and
Mara stared at him in fright. He expected her to burst into angry
speech, but she only leaned against the wall and panted. The dark mouth
of the stairway yawned at them--a stone throat that led into the bowels
of Mars and the realm of the monster, Big Joe. He glanced at Mara
thoughtfully, and felt sorry for her.
"I can leave you here," he offered, "but I'll have to tie you."
She moistened her lips, glanced first at the stairs, then at the door
where the guards were raising a frantic howl. She shook her head.
"I'll go with you."
"The priests won't bother you, if they see that you were a prisoner."
"I'll go with you."
He was pleased, but angry with himself for the pleasure. An arrogant,
spiteful, conniving wench, he told himself. She'd lied about Tokra. He
grunted gruffly, seized the candle, and started down the stairs. When
she started after him, he stiffened and glanced back, remembering the
barbed pike.
As he had suspected, she had picked it up. The point was a foot from
the small of his back. They stared at each other, and she wore her
self-assured smirk.
"Here," she said, and handed it casually. "You might need this."
* * * * *
They stared at each other again, but it was different this time.
Bewildered, he shook his head and resumed the descent toward the
vaults. The guards were battering at the door behind them.
The stairwell was damp and cold. Blackness folded about them like a
shroud. They moved in silence, and after five thousand steps, Asir
stopped counting.
Somewhere in the depths, Big Joe slept his restless sleep. Asir
wondered grimly how long it would take the guards to tear down the
metal door. Somehow they had to get past Big Joe before the guards came
thundering after them. There was a way to get around the monster: of
that he was certain. A series of twenty-four numbers was involved, and
he had memorized them with a stolen bit of ritual. How to use them was
a different matter. He imagined vaguely that one must call them out in
a loud voice before the inner entrance.
The girl walked beside him now, and he could feel her shivering. His
eyes were quick and nervous as he scanned each pool of darkness, each
nook and cranny along the stairway wall. The well was silent except for
the mutter of their footsteps, and the gloom was full of musty odors.
The candle afforded little light.
"I told you the truth about Tokra," she blurted suddenly.
Asir glowered straight ahead and said nothing, embarrassed by his
previous jealousy. They moved on in silence.
Suddenly she stopped. "Look," she hissed, pointing down ahead.
He shielded the candle with his hand and peered downward toward a small
square of dim light. "The bottom of the stairs," he muttered.
The light seemed faint and diffuse, with a slight greenish cast. Asir
blew out the candle, and the girl quickly protested.
"How will we see to climb again?"