But her vehement gesture silenced him; again she seemed lost in thought.
For a moment he stood wondering what was the matter with her. The music
from the pavilion throbbed out into the moonlit grove; gaiety was
surging all around them.
Finally George could stand it no longer. "Dee, what is it? What's the
matter?"
She looked up with an anxious frown. "Something is wrong with Azeela.
She's trying to tell me what's wrong."
"Oh?" George glanced hastily about. "Where is Azeela? She was here a
minute ago. Where are the rest of them? Let's tell them."
What did Dee mean? The girl seemed to have forgotten him again. She was
moving away, like one who walks under a spell.
"Wait. Dee--_wait a minute_!"
She kept on going. Figures were passing between them now. George hated
to leave his place. He'd never find the others--never get back again.
Even now he realized it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find
them in all that crowd of masked figures. If he lost Dee, too... He had
no choice; he darted after Dee.
When he had overtaken her they were some distance from the pavilion. It
was more secluded here. George darted up and caught her by the arm.
"Dee! What's the matter with you?"
Her hand went over her eyes and she shook herself slightly. "It's hard
at first--getting Azeela's thoughts. I have them now." She spoke
swiftly, anxiously. "Toroh was here a moment ago. He seized Azeela and
took her out of the grove--right near here."
Azeela's thoughts! George understood. He started forward, but she held
him.
"Too late! Toroh had two dogs waiting for him--they're mounting them
now. He has tied Azeela. They're starting--the dogs are running."
George stared at her blankly. "Where to? Where is he taking her? Can you
ask her that? Can she tell you?"
The girl was hastening forward now, with George after her. "Yes. She
says to Orleen. I have told her we are coming."
Abruptly, she stopped and faced him. "George, we have two dogs at home.
Shall you and I get them and go after Azeela?"
"Yes," he exclaimed impulsively.
"And I know where father keeps his weapons."
"Good. We can't find Loto and your father in this crowd. Had we better
try, Dee?"
They were hurrying forward again.
"No, we'd lose too much time. Father forbade me touching his weapons,"
she added as an afterthought, "but this is different, isn't it?"
"Of course," he agreed excitedly. "You know how to work them, Dee?"
"Yes, I experimented. He doesn't know it."
They left the grove.
"Dee, where's Azeela now?"
"Crossing the city. West toward Orleen. We won't be far behind them."
George was trembling with the excitement of it. "Is Toroh armed? Ask
Azeela that."
"I did. She doesn't know. She thinks he is."
"Oh!"
"We'll do something. He won't know we're after him--that's our
advantage. Hurry, George!"
There were a few figures in the almost deserted streets, but George and
Dee did not notice them. She was telling him of this branch of science
for which she and her sister were distinguished--this telepathy they had
developed. Bound in a union of thought by an unusual devotion, they had
perfected it until they could know, always vaguely, and, with effort,
quite distinctly, what was in the other's mind.
"We mustn't waste any time getting started, Dee."
They had entered the silent garden of Fahn's home. The city behind them
was humming with confusion now, but they did not hear it, did not know
that a murder had just been committed at the festival.
Inside the house, Dee went at once to her father's room. George waited.
When she returned she held two weapons out for his inspection. One was a
crescent of transparent metal, with a tiny wire connecting its horns and
a black bone handle by which to grasp it. There was a firing mechanism
on the handle. It was the projector of the ray which caused muscular
paralysis--the weapon Bool had used against Loto.
Dee described its operation briefly.
The other weapon was a small black globe the size of a man's fist. It
also had a handle with a trigger; in the globe opposite was a tiny
orifice like the muzzle of a revolver. This was one of the smallest
models of the thunderbolt projectors. With it, a bolt of electrons could
be thrown over a distance of some twenty feet.
The former weapon Dee kept; the little thunderbolt globe she handed to
George.
Dee had discarded her white robe; a blue ribbon around her forehead held
the hair from her eyes. She had another in her hand, and she tied it
around George's head.
"It's hot riding, even at night," she explained. "Your hair gets
moist--gets in your eyes."
They had been delayed only a moment.
"This way," she added.
They ran outside, across the patio, through a dark room and into the
garden behind the house, where a small white outbuilding stood. A new
misgiving overcame George.
"Oh, Dee--these dogs of yours..."
"Can you ride a dog?" she asked over her shoulder. Her expression was
impish.
"I can ride anything," he said stoutly, but his tone was dubious. "If
the dog is--"
She must have understood him, for she laughed.
"Wait! You will find these dogs your friends."
George said nothing more, and in a moment they were within the kennel.
It was dark, very dimly lighted by the moon from outside. A gray-black
shape came toward them; a shaggy dog whose shoulders stood nearly as
high as his own. George's first instinct was to turn and run, but the
dog padded up to Dee, and she put her arms up around it.
"Good, Rotan. Will you run fast for Dee?"
She called it toward George, and patted him to show the dog he was her
friend. George impulsively put his hand up to the great shaggy neck,
felt the dog's warm tongue as it turned to lick his hand. This huge
brute was his friend.
The other dog, Atal was a male, larger than its mate; and standing
beside it, George marveled at the power that its great body must hold.
The dogs knew they were going out. They whined with eagerness, and
leaping across the kennel, they came back to Dee with saddles in their
mouths with which she was to harness them.
Rotan, which Dee was to ride, was saddled with a leather seat and a
pommel with a small stirrup on one side. It was not unlike the
sidesaddle for girls that had been in use just before George's time. On
Atal she strapped a thick leather pad with a stirrup on each side; men
rode astride. There were no bridles.
"You tell Atal which way to go," she explained. "Right or left, slower
or faster. If you want him to run or walk or stop, he will understand.
Since Loto came we have taught them your way of saying it."
It all took no more than a moment or two, for Dee was hurrying, and her
eagerness seemed to communicate itself to the dogs. They had barked at
first--barks of such volume that George was startled. But when Dee
silenced them, they stood trembling with impatience, their heads turned
to follow her as she adjusted the saddles.
George mounted Atal. It was almost like mounting a horse; and yet not
like a horse either, for the dog's huge body under him was springy,
supple. As it moved toward the doorway, George was reminded of the lithe
grace and strength of a tiger. He missed the reins, and in lieu of them,
twisted up two handfuls of hair on the dog's neck and clung.