Exhausted from their ordeal, the travellers came to rest in the branches of an adjoining tree and refreshed themselves with food and drink. None of them had slept at all the night before; the strain and tension of their precarious escape from the Flying City of Calidar, and the adventures subsequent thereto, had taken considerable toll of their energies. So, for a time, they rested and slept a little, while Zarqa the Kalood stood guard over them. The Winged Man was so constituted that the necessity for slumber was foreign to his system; however, he did take this opportunity to partake of nutriment to restore his own vital energies. It had been a considerable time since he had last imbibed a quantity of the golden mead, which was the only source of sustenance his alien race required.
Rested and refreshed, the adventurers awoke towards mid-day and decided to continue their journey.
The item of first importance on their agenda was to locate the lost members of their party, and to reunite with them once again. This, however, presented them with seemingly insoluble problems. For one thing, they had not the slightest notion of where Ralidux might have flown with his two female captives, once he had accidentally been released from the mind control of Zarqa.
“Not back to the Flying City; that’s certain, at least!” said Janchan with finality.
“I would tend to agree with you, Prince Janchan,” nodded the ancient philosopher thoughtfully. “By his unwitting assistance of our escape from the slave pens of Calidar, Ralidux has forever alienated himself from the company of his kind. The Skymen would consider him a renegade, if not indeed an heretic; fit only for swift execution, or perchance a more lingering demise in the experimental laboratories. Clyon, his superior, would demand no less; so, I believe, would Prince Thallius.”
In a few well-chosen words the Yothian sage explained to his new friends the rival political factions into which the black supermen of the Flying City were rigidly divided; and the intense contention and suspicion which existed between the adherents of the parties.
Just as the guards were closing around us on their hunting-hawks, I directed the captive brain of Ralidux to guide his steed on a divergent path, whereby I had hoped to divide our pursuers; at most to delay their approach by posing to them the necessity of deciding which fleeing party to pursue, thus affording us precious time, mused Zarqa telepathically. The last glimpse I had of Ralidux’ hawk, it was curving away in that direction. He pointed off to their right.
Janchan nodded. “Yes, that’s right, friend Zarqa. The last time I saw them, they were heading off in that direction. But then the bolt bit the sled, put you out of action and we crashed into the leaves. I was too busy with the questions of our survival to think of them. Incidentally, Zarqa, have you fully recovered from the effects of the bolt by now? Can your wings fly?”
Yes, responded the solemn-eyed Kalood. It was a passing paralysis of the wing-muscles—a temporary numbness caused by the electric shock of the weapon employed by our pursuers. Rest, and the partaking of my nutrient mead, has restored me to my full powers again.
“I assume, then,” said Nimbalim “that we are agreed to begin the search for our missing companions in that direction in which they were last headed in flight?”
Janchan nodded grimly. Without further ado, they reentered their vehicle and took to the skies, weaving between the boles of the enormous, sky-tall trees.
“Of course, they might have landed anywhere,” Janchan said, despairingly. “On that branch, or the next; on the one above it, or the one below. We have little chance of finding them in all this wilderness…”
True, replied the Winged Man. However, there is nothing else we can do but to search; however hopeless may seem our chances of success…
“A pity you cannot reestablish contact with the mind of Ralidux, save in his presence,” murmured the philosopher, after some time.
I agree. It is difficult enough to control the mind of another, even when he is near; distance renders it impossible… however… now that you mention it—
“What? Have you thought of something?” asked Janchan.
The Kalood shrugged. No, not really; it is just that, having once mastered the mind of another, I am sensitive to the unique patterns of his thoughts. The emanations of each mind, friend Janchan, are distinctly individual.
“May I ask, what are the limits which distance puts on your abilities to distinguish one thought-wave from another?” queried Nimbalim of Yoth.
That is very difficult for me to say; especially in the case of you wingless ones, whose mental radiations are dimmer and less precise than are the emanations of my own kind. However, if you will take over the controls of our craft, Prince, I will bend my efforts to the detection of the thoughts of Ralidux…
With a feeling of excitement, Janchan came forward to take his place before the controls, so that Zarqa could concentrate. They flew on for most of that day and into the night. From time to time, Zarqa would indicate a slight adjustment in their direction; he fancied his sensory equipment caught the far, faint impulse of the mind for which he quested.
Dawn broke below them glimmered a vast inland sea, such as they had never seen or envisioned before. They stared down in amazement at the great stretch of waters, which was broken only by a scattered archipelago of jungle islands.
Suddenly, Zarqa stiffened in his trance. He clutched Janchan’s arm his claw-like bony fingers sinking into the flesh.
Down! he commanded sharply.
Janchan touched the lever and the skysled sank down towards the islands of the unknown sea.
Chapter 18.
THE SHIP FROM THE SKY
I burst from the edge of the jungle as Shann’s cries receded into the distances above me and were lost in the winds of the heavens. Never before had I cursed my blinded eyes as at that hour. The girl whom I loved had been stolen from me and I could not even see what it was that had kidnapped her into the clouds.
For hours I paced the lonely emptiness of sand that stretched beside the sea, bemoaning my fate and railing against the grim, ironic jest the fates had played upon me. At length, however, I recovered my reason although the ache in my heart had not lessened. Returning to the hut I filled my hungry belly with food which, in my distraction of mind, I did not even taste. Then, having nothing else to do, I came back to the beach where Shann had been taken from me, and began wandering about aimlessly, trying to think of something to do next.
Odd, how had my luck had been, with those people whom I had come to love! Niamh the Fair was gone from me, and as for Zarqa and Prince Janchan, our paths had been sundered long ago. Even homely, grinning, faithful little Klygon, who had become my ally and my only friend in the House of Gurjan Tor, even he had been taken from me in the end. And now Shann, the girl I had come to love, however guiltily; she, too, was gone.
Was loneliness to be my lot forever? Musing, upon that question I paced the empty beach. And then I heard the flying thing above, the whirr of her engines, the rushing wind of her passage!
I froze, and stared up into the sky, heedless of my inability to see; striving by some unknown sense to discern what it was that sank towards me from the heavens. Was it the vessel that had carried off Shann of Kamadhong? It seemed incredible that the mystery craft should have returned thus, to the scene of the crime, but it must be so.