“Hush!” Roane searched for any stir among the pillars. But it would seem that their luck held. The chamber appeared empty.
“It is all dark.” He had himself under tight control again. “I see nothing—”
“Close your eyes once more.” If he could be more sure of touch than sight—
Roane drew him to the first of the pillars.
“There is a column here.” She made the description as simple as she could. “It has a wide plate set in the surface facing you. Around that are rows of lights which flash on and off constantly in patterns of color. At the top is a small crown about the size of your fist. It is in the form of—I think you might best term them flames—and these are brilliantly red, glowing as if actually afire-”
“The Flame Crown of Leichstan!” he cried.
“Now—give me your hands.” She had to move very close to do this, press against his back, reach around his waist to direct his fingers to the surface of the map and the lights, making him trace across and around.
“Do you feel?” She waited anxiously for the answer on which so much depended.
“Yes! These then are the lights? And the crown?”
“It is too far above to be touched.”
“And where is the crown of Reveny?” he demanded eagerly.
“Here—” She led him along to stand before the proper pillar and described it in patient detail.
“Tell me now of the others!”
Roane did, guiding him to each in turn, though he only touched a pillar now and then to reassure himself they were there. At last she came to the dead one, and since it had no light of its own she trained the beamer on it.
The diadem of fluted shells had turned an unpleasant green color which hinted of decay.
“The crown of Arothner in truth,” he admitted. “You have marked each nation that I know— Are these all?”
“Yes.”
“And these you believe can govern our thoughts, raise a kingdom high, smash it low—”
“We think so.” Again after some space of time she allied herself with the Service. “Though the records of the Psychocrat hierarchy were largely destroyed in the blasting of their command station, some pieces of information have been fitted together. We ourselves have extensions of computers which are akin to these in general formation. There must be a broadcast linkage between pillar and crown.”
“Which explains much,” he said as if to himself. “There have been puzzles a many in the past—why some kings seemed to reverse themselves. Roane”—Imfry swung around, his eyes open, searching for her though she stood there directly before him— “you are very right. This is evil, the blackest kind of evil! And it is better to face chaos than such slavery. I have seen it work with the Queen before my eyes. She became someone else when she held the crown. The person—the thing this wanted her to be! There must be an end!”
His voice rose but that did not distract Roane’s own warning system. A distort! Somewhere within these burrows a distort had begun to broadcast.
“Quick!” She pulled at him, forcing him around the edge of the pillar which stood farthest from the door. The sensation was growing stronger.
“There is something—I feel the need to get away,” he said.
“I know. That is a distort, a protective device. If they set it here—” Perhaps she could break out, as she had before. But Roane seriously doubted Imfry could.
Movement at the panel—Sandar! He slipped through with supple agility, took cover in the dark behind the pillars. So he must suspect their presence. Roane did not doubt he was armed with a stunner. He need only use that, spray at will, to render them helpless. Unless he was afraid of unguarded use of any ray around these pillars.
She pressed Imfry’s arm in warning, felt him tense. Had his sight been equal to hers, they might have chanced skulking behind this row of pillars, opposite to those behind which Sandar had gone to ground. But if there was a distort at the door to bottle them in, even reaching it would do no good. For the present Roane could think of nothing but to remain in silent hiding.
Imfry had his “gun,” she the tool, but neither was any defense against a stunner. Could the tool take out the distort, unseal the doorway as it had finished off the repeller? Perhaps, but Roane could not lead Imfry through hide-and-seek. And to leave him here would expose him, helpless, to Sandar.
That her cousin was on the move she had no doubt, though she could hear nothing but the click-click of the machines. And so engrossed was she in listening for some betraying sound that she was almost startled into betrayal when a voice called:
“Roane, I know you are here—” The words were in Basic and the loud tone echoed so she could not be sure of the direction from which they came.
“The LB is coming in,” Sandar continued. “When it lands you know what to expect—stass. If you surrender, you’ll escape that. The more you give evidence of abnormal behavior the worse it is going to be for you when the inspectors arrive.”
He was trying to frighten her, and Roane had to admit he was succeeding in part. If the landing party had been warned about her, they would have no mercy at all—the quickest method of dealing with her would be used. They need only bring in a stass projector and spray, and she and Imfry would be locked in a prison as tight as the cage of Hitherhow. Her eventual fate would be no less now than complete mental re-education. Which meant that she must—they must escape before that happened.
“You can’t get out.” Sandar’s voice continued to echo. But she must wait no longer. And one chance was as good as another. This duel was between them. He would be concentrating on her, not Imfry.
She took the chance of a whisper—”Stay here!”
His hand brushed her shoulder with reassuring touch, letting her know he understood. Roane slipped to the next pillar. She was more used to the echoing now and she thought that Sandar was still close to the door.
If she could create a diversion—there was the ruined crown of Arothner. Roane stood out and took aim on that discolored crest with the tool.
A flash of brilliance and the crown was gone, melted into fiery droplets. At the same time she saw Sandar begin a leap from one pillar to the next. In turn she took a desperate chance, swinging the tool around, aiming for the rock ahead of him. He cried out as footing disappeared, stumbled— But his stunner was coming up, he had not dropped it. Roane rayed again, trying to nick that. The edge of the beam did touch it, but the full force she released cut across the pillar which held Reveny’s Ice Crown.
17
Roane cowered as the world split apart in incandescent flame. Under her the rock floor was as unstable as bog scum. It swayed, buckled. The pillar which had taken part of the tool’s energy was now a torch, its brilliance blinding. And from that leaped tentacles of yellow-white to touch its fellows, so they also blazed.
Imfry—he could not see and he was behind one of those pillars. He might be caught in the holocaust sweeping from one column to the next. Only now she was as blind as he—
Roane began to crawl, feeling her way. A torrent of sound deafened her, even as the blaze sealed her eyes. That mutter arose to a shriek, as if the pillars had life and were now in torment. There was such a wave of heat that she could hardly breathe.
She never knew how she reached Imfry. Only by fortune she ran against his body. She clawed her way up to her feet, using him as a support, and then forced him back with her until they crashed against the far wall of the chamber. From there there was no escape, not with them both as blind and far from the door as they were. They could only endure and hope that they would not be utterly consumed in the fury which raged, sending out sound and stifling heat.
Sandarl For the first time Roane thought of him and winced. Had he been in the direct line of that blast? If so—it was by her doing he was dead. She had not wanted that. She had not intended him any harm, only to knock out the stunner, give them a chance-The roar was dying—or else her ears were becoming dulled. And the heat—surely that was not so great. Roane fought to see, moisture welling in her smarting eyes, trickling down her cheeks, where she impatiently smeared it away with one hand while with the other she kept her hold on Imfry. But all she could make out was a blood-scarlet curtain against the world.