It was, like picking out the slightest ripple in the grass, hearing a sound so thin and far away that it was not true sound at all but merely the alerting suggestion of it. But a warm flush of triumph heated Furtig. It was true—he had done it! That sense would lead him now. Lead him. He opened his eyes to look at Foskatt.
What of Foskatt? It was plain that the other could not walk, nor could Furtig carry him. He could leave, return later— But perhaps that wall which had opened and closed was not the only entrance. One dared not underrate the tenacity of the Rattons. Long before Furtig could return with help, Foskatt could be captive or dead.
Suppose that somewhere in one of these chambers along this way he could find another of these servants, one which could be activated? It would do no harm to go and look, and it might be their only chance.
Furtig began the search. But he found himself moving slowly, needing to stop now and then to lean against the wall. All of a sudden, now that the excitement of their escape had died, he needed rest. He fed on some of the dried meat from Eu-La’s bag. But it was hard to choke down even a few mouthfuls of that without water. And where was he going to find water?
Determinedly Furtig prowled among those metal boxes set in the first chamber, finding nothing useful. Stubbornly” he went on to explore the next room.
This was different in that it had tables, long ones, and those tables were crowded with masses of things he did not understand at all. He backed away from one where the brush of his tail had knocked off a large basin. The basin shattered on the floor, and the sound of the crash was magnified a hundred times by echoes.
Furtig’s startled jump almost brought him to disaster. For he struck against what seemed a smaller table, and that moved! He whirled around, expecting an attack, snarling. The table went on until it bumped against one of the larger tables.
Warily Furtig hooked his claws lightly about one of its slender legs. Very cautiously he pulled the small table back. It answered so readily, he was again startled. Then he mastered surprise, and experimented.
The surface was high, he could barely touch the top with his chin when he stood at his tallest. There was a mass of brittle stuff lying across it, and when he tried to investigate, it broke and powdered, so that he swept it off, leaving a bare surface.
But he could move the table!
Pushing and pulling, he brought it out of the room, back to the side of the rumbler. Luckily there was only a short space between the two levels, the table being a little lower. He was sure he could get Foskatt from one to the other.
Blood was seeping again from the matted fur about Foskatt’s wound by the time Furtig had finished. He settled the unconscious tribesman in the center of the table, hoping he would not roll, as there was no anchorage here.
He fastened his belt to the two front legs of the table and then slung the end over one shoulder. It was a tight fit, the table bumping continually against his back and legs, and if it had not rolled so easily he could not have moved it. Resolutely he set out down the corridor.
There were times following, which could have been night and day, or day and night, since Furtig could no longer measure time so here—times when he believed that he could not go on. He would hunch down, the table looming over him, breathing so hard it hurt his lower ribs. His whole body was so devoted to pulling the table that he was not really aware of anything save that he had not yet reached the place to which he must go.
On and on, and there was no end, from corridor to room, across room, to another hall. The lights grew brighter, the strange smells stronger. He was never sure when the vibration in the walls began. It might have started long before his dulled senses recorded it. There was a feeling of life here …
Furtig leaned against the wall. At least there was no smell of Ratton. And they were still heading in the right direction.
Then he really looked about him. The corridor down which they had just come ended at a wall. And if this was like the wall the servant had opened, well, he did not have the ability to get through it. Leaving the table, he shambled forward to examine it better.
What was happening to him? This was the bottom of a shaft, much the same as the one he had fallen down earlier. But now—he was going up! Gently, as if the air itself was pushing him.
Frantically Furtig fought, managed to catch hold of the shaft entrance and pull out of that upward cur-rent. As he dropped to the ground, he was shaken out of that half-stupor which had possessed him.
It was plain, as plain as such a marvel could be, that here the shaft reversed the process of the other one. And it was also plain that Gammage—or what his search sense had fastened on as Gammage was above.
Would this mysterious upward current take the table also? He could only try. Pulling, he got it into the shaft. Foskatt’s body stirred, drifting up from the surface. So—it worked on him, but not on the table. Wearily Furtig accepted that, kept his hold on his tribesman as they began to rise together.
It took a long time, but Furtig, in his weariness, did not protest that. He watched dully as they slid past one opening and then another. Each must mark a different level of these vast underground ways, even as the caves opened from two ledges. Up and up—
Four levels up and Furtig’s search sense gave the signal—this one! Towing the limp Foskatt, he made swimming motions to take them to the opening. And he had just enough strength to falter through, out of the pull of the current, to the floor beyond.
He lay there beside Foskatt, panting, his sides and back aching from his effort. What now? But he was too worn out to face anything more—not now. And that thought dimmed in his mind as his head fell for-ward to rest on his crooked arm.
Furtig came out of sleep, aware even before he opened his eyes that he was not alone. What he sniffed was not the musky scent of Ratton, but rather the reassuring odor of his own kin. With that, another smell, which brought him fully awake—food! And not the dried rations of his traveling either.
He was lying on a pallet not unlike those of the caves. And, waiting beside him, holding a bowl which sent out that enticing fragrance, was a female he had never seen before. She was remarkable enough to let him know he was among strangers. And he gaped at her in a way which should have brought her fur rising, set her to a warning hiss.
Fur—that was it! Though she had a goodly show of silky, silverly fur on her head and along her shoulders, yet on the rest of her body it was reduced to the thin-nest down, through which it was easy to see her skin.
And those hands holding the bowl—the fingers were not stubby like his own but longer, thinner. Furtig did not know whether he liked what he saw of her, he was only aware that she was different enough to keep him staring like a stupid youngling.
“Eat—“ She held the bowl closer. Her voice had a tone of command. Also it was as different as her body was from those he knew.
Furtig took the bowl and found its contents had been cut into easily handled strips. As he gnawed, and the warm, restorative juices flowed down his throat, he came fully to attention. The female had not left and that disconcerted him again. Among the People this was not the custom—the males had their portion of the caves, the females another.
“You are Furtig of the Ancestor’s cave—“
“How did you—“
“Know that? Did you not bring back Foskatt, who knows you?”
“Foskatt!” For the first time since his waking Furtig remembered his tribesman. “He is hurt—the Rattons—“
“Hurt, yes. But he is now in the healing place of the Demons. We”—there was pride in her tone—“have learned many of the Demons’ secrets. They could heal as well as kill. And every day we learn more and more. If we are given the chance we shall know all that they knew . . .”
“But not to use that knowledge to the same purposes, Liliha.”
Startled, Furtig looked beyond the female. The soft tread of any of his race should not be entirely noise-less, but he had been so intent he had not been aware of a newcomer. And looking up—