“So you know my Earth name, the name by which I prefer to be called? And how much else do you know about me? And why?”
“I’ve always made it my business to have as much information about the Lords as it is possible to get,” she said. “That is why I have stayed alive so long.”
“And why so many others have died.”
Her voice became soft again, and she smiled at him. “There’s no reason for you to pick a quarrel with me. Why can’t we let bygones be bygones?”
“Who picked a quarrel? No, there’s no reason why bygones can’t be just that, provided they are bygones. But the Lords never remember a good turn or forget an injury. And until you’ve convinced me otherwise, I will regard you as the same old Vala. As beautiful, maybe even more beautiful, but still with a black and rotten soul.”
She tried to smile. “You always were too blunt. Maybe that was one reason why I loved you so much. And you were more of a man than the others. You were the greatest of all my lovers.”
She waited for him to return the compliment. Instead, he said, “Love is what makes a lover. I did love you. Did.”
He walked away from her along the edge of the shore. He looked back from time to time. She was following him at a distance of twenty feet. Now and then, the earth sank beneath his feet. He stopped for her to catch up with him and said, “There must be many caves on the bottom. How can Theotormon be called out?”
“He can’t. There are many caves, yes. Sometimes a whole group of bladders die, either from disease, old age, or from being eaten by a fish which finds them tasty. Then caverns exist for a while, although they’re eventually filled up by new growths.”
Wolff filed this information away for possible use. If things went too badly, a man could always take refuge under the island. Vala must have guessed what he was thinking-a gift he had found irritating when they had been mates-and she said, “I wouldn’t go under there. The water swarms with man-eaters.”
“How does Theotormon survive?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s too fast and strong for the fish. After all, he’s adapted for that kind of life-if you want to call it a life.”
Wolff decided that he would have to give up on Theotormon. He walked back into the jungle with Vala close behind. By now he permitted her to be at his back. She needed him too much to kill him.
He had gone only a few yards when he was knocked down from behind. At first, he thought that she had leaped upon him. He rolled away from her, trying to draw his beamer from its holster at the same time. He saw then that she had been propelled into him by another. The huge glistening wet body of Theotormon was flying at him. The bulk came flat down on him, and his breath was knocked out by the impact of 400 pounds. Then Theotormon was sitting on top of him and striking savagely at his face with the flippers. The first blow knocked him half-unconscious; the second drove him into darkness.