The People of the Crater

by Andre Norton

  _CHAPTER EIGHT_

  _Escape from the Caves_

  Keeping his eyes upon those soulless yellow disks, Garin snatched offhis hood, wadding it into a ball. Then he sprang. His fingers slipped onsmooth hide, sharp fangs ripped his forearm, blunt nails scraped hisribs. A foul breath puffed into his face and warm slaver trickled downhis neck and chest. But his plan succeeded.

  The cap was wedged into the morgel's throat and the beast was slowlychoking. Blood dripped from the flyer's torn flesh, but he held ongrimly until he saw the light fade from those yellow eyes. The dyingmorgel made a last mad plunge for freedom, dragging his attacker alongthe rock floor. Then Garin felt the heaving body rest limply against hisown. He staggered against the wall, panting.

  "Garin!" cried Thrala. Her questing hand touched his shoulder and creptto his face. "It is well with you?"

  "Yes," he panted, "let us go on."

  Thrala's fingers had lingered on his arm and now she walked beside him,her cloak making whispering sounds as it brushed against the wall andfloor.

  "Wait," she cautioned suddenly. "The morgel pit...."

  Dandtan slipped by them. "I will try the door."

  In a moment he was back. "It is open," he whispered.

  "Kepta believes," mused Thrala, "that we will keep to the safety of thegallery. Therefore let us go through the pit. The morgels will be goneto better hunting grounds."

  Through the pit they went. A choking stench arose from underfoot andthey trod very carefully. They climbed the stairs on the far sideunchallenged, Dandtan leading.

  "The rod here, Garin," he called; "this door is barred."

  Garin pressed the weapon into the other's hand and leaned against therock. He was sick and dizzy. The long, deep wounds on his arm andshoulder were stiffening and ached with a biting throb.

  When they went on he panted with effort. They still moved in darknessand his distress passed unnoticed.

  "This is wrong," he muttered, half to himself. "We go too easily--"

  And he was answered out of the blackness. "Well noted, outlander. Butyou go free for the moment, as does Thrala and Dandtan. Our fullaccounting is not yet. And now, farewell, until we meet again in theHall of Thrones. I could find it in me to applaud your courage,outlander. Perhaps you will come to serve me yet."

  Garin turned and threw himself toward the voice, bringing up withbruising force against rock wall. Kepta laughed.

  "Not with the skill of the bull Tand will you capture me."

  His second laugh was cut cleanly off, as if a door had been closed. Insilence the three hurried up the ramp. Then, as through a curtain, theycame into the light of Tav.

  Thrala let fall her drab cloak, stood with arms outstretched in thecrater land. Her sparkling robe sheathed her in glory and she sangsoftly, rapt in her own delight. Then Dandtan put his arm about her; sheclung to him, staring about as might a beauty-bewildered child.

  Garin wondered dully how he would be able to make the journey back tothe Caverns when his arm and shoulder were eaten with a consuming fire.The Ana crept closer to him, peering into his white face.

  They were aroused by a howl from the Caves. Thrala cried out and Dandtananswered her unspoken question. "They have set the morgels on ourtrail!"

  The howl from the Caves was echoed from the forest. Morgels before andbehind them! Garin might set himself against one, Dandtan another, andThrala could defend herself with the rod, but in the end the pack wouldkill them.

  "We shall claim protection from the Gibi of the cliff. By the law theymust give us aid," said Thrala, as, turning up her long robe, she beganto run lightly. Garin picked up her cloak and drew it across hisshoulder to hide his welts. When he could no longer hold her pace shemust not guess the reason for his falling behind.

  Of that flight through the forest the flyer afterward remembered little.At last the gurgle of water broke upon his pounding ears, as he stumbledalong a good ten lengths behind his companions. They had come to theedge of the wood along the banks of the river.

  Without hesitation Thrala and Dandtan plunged into the oily flood,swimming easily for the other side. Garin dropped the cloak, wonderingif, once he stepped into the yellow stream, he would ever be able tostruggle out again. Already the Ana was in, paddling in circles near theshore and pleading with him to follow. Wearily Garin waded out.

  The water, which washed the blood and sweat from his aching body, wasfaintly brackish and stung his wounds to life. He could not fight thesluggish current and it bore him downstream, well away from where theothers landed.

  But at last he managed to win free, crawling out near where a smallerstream joined the river. There he lay panting, face down upon the moss.And there they found him, water dripping from his bedraggled finery, theAna stroking his muddied hair. Thrala cried out with concern andpillowed his head on her knees while Dandtan examined his wounds.

  "Why did you not tell us?" demanded Thrala.

  He did not try to answer, content to lie there, her arms supporting him.Dandtan disappeared into the forest, returning soon, his hands filledwith a mass of crushed leaves. With these he plastered Garin's wounds.

  "You'd better go on," Garin warned.

  Dandtan shook his head. "The morgels can not swim. If they cross, theymust go to the bridge, and that is half the crater away."

  The Ana dropped into their midst, its small hands filled with clustersof purple fruit. And so they feasted, Garin at ease on a fern couch,accepting food from Thrala's hand.

  There seemed to be some virtue in Dandtan's leaf plaster for, after ashort rest, Garin was able to get to his feet with no more than a twingeor two in his wounds. But they started on at a more sober pace. Throughmossy glens and sunlit glades where strange flowers made perfume, thetrail led. The stream they followed branched twice before, on the edgeof meadow land, they struck away from the guiding water toward thecrater wall.

  Suddenly Thrala threw back her head and gave a shrill, sweet whistle.Out of the air dropped a yellow and black insect, as large as a hawk.Twice it circled her head and then perched itself on her outstretchedwrist.

  Its swollen body was jet black, its curving legs, three to a side,chrome yellow. The round head ended in a sharp beak and it had large,many-faceted eyes. The wings, which lazily tested the air, were blackand touched with gold.

  Thrala rubbed the round head while the insect nuzzled affectionately ather cheek. Then she held out her wrist again and it was gone.

  "We shall be expected now and may pass unmolested."

  Shortly they became aware of a murmuring sound. The crater wall loomedahead, dwarfing the trees at its base.

  "There is the city of the Gibi," remarked Dandtan.

  Clinging to the rock were the towers and turrets of many eight-sidedcells.

  "They are preparing for the Mists," observed Thrala. "We shall havecompany on our journey to the Caverns."

  They passed the trees and reached the foot of the wax skyscrapers whichtowered dizzily above their heads. A great cloud of the Gibi hoveredabout them. Garin felt the soft brush of their wings against his body.And they crowded each other jealously to be near Thrala.

  The soft _hush-hush_ of their wings filled the clearing as one largeGibi of outstanding beauty approached. The commoners fluttered off andThrala greeted the Queen of the cells as an equal. Then she turned toher companions with the information the Gibi Queen had to offer.

  "We are just in time. Tomorrow the Gibi leave. The morgels have crossedthe river and are out of control. Instead of hunting us they have goneto ravage the forest lands. All Tav has been warned against them. Butthey may be caught by the Mist and so destroyed. We are to rest in thecliff hollows, and one shall come for us when it is time to leave."

  The Gibi withdrew to the cell-combs after conducting their guests to therock-hollows.