“Snakes!” said Tiger, feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck. He took a hitch on his nerve and felt with his foot over the edge. But the drop was sheer and the slimy things at the bottom rustled as they moved to the foot of the drop, waiting.
He cursed impatiently at such jinn hellishness. But he wasted very little time mourning about it. He had only one recourse—to ascend by the stairs through the main entrance!
He made the decision and put it into action at once, striding along the outer edge of the moat, watchful for other traps but well informed by the lights above.
Shortly he had come again to the front of the building and, dropping on his face, crept toward the great balustrades, toward stronger light and toward guards.
Marids were posted at the end of every wide step, their steel helmets as bright as their single eyes and their pikes bearing streamers which did not in the least impair their usefulness. But so stately was their bearing and so bright the torches in their eyes that Jan was able to come within touching distance of one’s back without being seen. He lay in the protection of the balustrade’s shadow and pondered his next move. More and more, as obstacles arose, he determined to put his plan into action and now he was certain that his salvation, at least on earth, depended upon his reaching Alice Hall in this world.
He was very sorely tempted to steal the sentry’s cloak but he well knew the folly of trying to pass off his brawn for a marid’s stumpy ugliness, and so he began to work himself up toward the temple by keeping in the shadow of the steps where the jinn thronged not ten feet away. He wondered a little just what method of killing him they would use if they caught him, for now, regardless of how the queen might want him treated, the priests of Rani would do—as they rightfully did—whatever they pleased. As an ex-captive of the throne, sought by troopers, perhaps a lash would be the most he merited. But he well knew that if he invaded Rani, the long arm of that goddess would find him in whatever state or abode he sought refuge. But he wasn’t caught yet.
Again he almost tripped into the moat and was angered to find that it butted against this pavement’s edge. Had he gone to all this trouble only to be balked by the same barrier? He raised his head a little and stared at the crowd whose brilliant robes almost brushed his face. He again eyed the moat. And then, bethinking himself of the urgency of his mission, gripped the edge of the pavement and swung himself over the darkly tenanted space.
He swung himself along, holding to the slippery edge of the steps, trusting that his hands would escape being seen. But the torches were bright and his luck was in at the moment and he came to safety on the other side. Again he examined the ground about him. The temple’s foundation was about eight feet high and on it stood columns whose backs were against the stone walls. He sprang up to the ledge. Somewhere there must be a postern. Above him on the roof, guards paced mechanically back and forth like great black dolls. To his left spread the colorful panorama of the steps and behind him, far below, sparkled the lights of harbor and city.
His questing fingers examined the wall ahead of him and then, with relief, they touched the cold iron of a small door. It was locked but that worried him not at all.
“By the Seal of Sulayman,” he whispered, “open wide.”
Softly, the door swung inward as though pulled by an unseen hand. Jan slipped through the opening and silently closed the portal. He was in a long hall, momentarily deserted. Through the archways which flanked it he could see the limitless expanse of the temple’s main room where torches flared smokily and sent gigantic shadows to chasing each other along the walls and ceiling.
At the far end was a gargantuan idol, gleaming with precious stones, all of gold and silver and ivory. The hands rested upon the hilt of a sword some fifty feet long and the feet were spread apart in an attitude of battle. This was Rani—Rani, goddess of the jinn—terrible of eye, lovely of form, lustful and mystic, beauteous and murderous. Other humans—and few they had been—had paid for such a sight with their lives.
Jan tore his eyes away from the terrifying figure and cast about him for further ways. But he dared go neither up nor down this hall, for at each end he could see temple guards and passing crowds. And certainly he could not walk forward into the place of worship. Sailorlike he looked aloft and took heart. The wall was built in gradually narrowing stones and each one offered a ledge, four feet above the last. And the columns which supported the roof were interconnected by beams.
He heard someone close a door near at hand and the mutter of voices approaching, and he lost no time swinging up and leaping from ledge to ledge. A moment later he looked down upon the horned heads of priests. They paused, talking together, before they entered the great chamber.
“Then it is settled,” said the oldest of the lot, one dressed all in yellow silk. “He cannot injure us for he is one of the believers and so also are his very warriors. What, then, say you to the prophecy of defeat for Ramus?”
They held up their clawed right hands in the ifrit gesture of the affirmative.
“It is time,” said another, “that we were accorded greater freedom here. A plague on Ramus. Let the prophecy ring loud enough to take the hearts out of the officers here. He will repay it handsomely with greater freedom.”
“Very well,” said the old one. “Let the rites begin.”
They moved out of the shadows and while some of them went furtively down through a trap in the floor, the others, including the ancient one, walked boldly out into the chamber itself.
Jan pondered their words. Certainly, by “he” could they mean Zongri? And Tiger, of a sudden, remembered vague rumors of dissatisfaction among the priesthood for Ramus’ refusal to take part in their rites and her placing such great reliance upon the soothsayer Zeno and his stars. Zeno had broken the monopoly of Rani on prophecy when the queen had elevated him to his high place.
Now that the hall below was deserted, Jan dropped swiftly down to it again with a new idea. He opened the trap in the floor and found a steep stairway leading through gloom. He closed the trap over him and made his way along a tunnel which seemed to lead for miles beneath the earth. But, wiping cobwebs from his face and pausing constantly to listen and look for possible guards, he finally reached the end of it. Here was another stairway, going up.
Somewhere far off he heard a hundred mighty horns bellow hoarsely for silence. And as he mounted, the single voice of a speaker came to him with increasing distinctness. Then he came to a parting of the stairs. One continued up but the other led off on the level. Jan chose the ascent rather than run a chance of losing himself in a labyrinth.
By the number of steps he knew that he was well above the floor of the great chamber and that he must now be within one of the walls. Again the way became level and he found that he had entered upon an observation gallery.
He was not much amazed, being well versed in such obtuse subjects as ordinary necromancy, to find that sets of eyeholes were bored through the stone so as to match with the eyes of figures with which the chamber was decorated. He wondered that the jinn permitted such an obvious trick and his opinion of their wits fell accordingly.
The chamber was spread out before him in all its shadowy splendor. Full ten thousand jinn and jinnia, resplendent in sparkling jewels and shimmering silk, stood upon the gradually raised floor. They faced Rani, but between them and the idol intervened a semicircle where a mass of priests was now undergoing some sort of ritual. Their bowed heads were all inclined toward Rani and over them rolled the sepulchral tones of the temple master, he who had been in the hall near Jan.
What he was saying Jan neither knew nor cared. All his attention was concentrated upon the ringing rank of temple dancers who were intermingled with marids in rite regalia. One by one he studied the girls, but in those hundreds and at his height above them, he found it very difficult to find Alice Hall. His spine tingled as he thought of her there, a part of that savage splendor, hypnotized by the intoning music which now began to flow from an unseen recess in t
he chamber. At this signal the girls stood up; throwing back their white capes and stepping ahead of the marids, their diamond-decked bodies rose in the guttering torchlight.
Suddenly he found her. She was a pace or two ahead of all the rest and seemed to be a key to their movements. He hardly knew what the others did, though he was conscious of their forming geometric patterns in slow, easy grace to the increasing tempo of the horns and drums.
With difficulty he bethought himself of Rani and turned his attention to the idol. The enormous figure was supported by heavy chains so placed as to be invisible from the front. And so it was not with as great a shock as to the others below that he saw the goddess begin to move slowly from side to side.
Puerile, he thought to himself. Probably the thing was hinged like a marionette and, without doubt, it had speaking tubes connected with it so that priests could simulate its voice.
The music became faster, louder, and he found that he had been unconsciously beating to it. The wild strains, guttural and hoarse, brought the hot blood pulsing to his face and it was with difficulty that he tore his eyes away from the idol.
He knew quite well what he intended to do just as he completely understood the horrible consequences which might follow. But Tiger was bold and Jan was cunning and in a moment he strode down the runway, searching for yet another passageway which might admit him to the chamber itself when the occasion came. But his only chance lay in the one branch he had found and now he paced down it, watching ahead of each turn, certain that he would run into priests.
Finally he found another branch but this one led straight up and that he did not need. Ahead he saw two spots of light which came up against a short ladder. By mounting it he again discovered that he could see out and that, also, he could get out when that occasion came.
It did not take him long to find that he was inside the idol’s base, for, by looking straight up, he could see the gigantic wings which sprouted stiffly from the goddess’ shoulders and swooped earthward toward him.
He was slightly puzzled to see that during his change the goddess had taken her hand from the sword and now held her arms out straight above the heads of the dancers. From this angle the goddess had a staring look which was awful to see.
The dancers swayed and dipped and the music quickened. Soon they were in a semicircle, spinning like tops, their hair flying out from their heads and their supple bodies weaving. With a crash the music stopped. In the deep stillness the dancers fled back until they were again in their original places. Throwing themselves down in an attitude of supplication, they waited.
The priests sped away, leaving only their ancient blackguard of a master. The venerable one spread out his hands to the goddess. Somewhere a drum beat hysterically for an instant and then was still. From his cassock the master took a long, shining whip and let it curl like a snake along the pavement. Again the drums shattered the stillness and deepened it by their ceasing. The master’s whip cracked like a musket.
“Rani!” cried the ancient one. “Rani! By the symbol of this whip with which we hold you, we demand that you answer.”
The goddess was not swinging now. The feet moved until they were together. The head, full a dozen yards in diameter, bent so that the glowing eyes stared down at the master.
“Rani! Behold! We have offered you music and dancing. We offer you worship! Answer and answer well!”
Again the whip cracked and Rani moved a trifle while a flutter of awe ran back through the crowd.
Jan thought to himself that the jinn were a witless lot to be fooled by a hundred-and-fifty-foot marionette.
“Who,” cried the master, “shall be the victor in tomorrow’s battle? Zongri or Ramus the Magnificent?”
A deep, unintelligible rumble came from the goddess.
And then, from the sides of the hall, on two platforms near to Rani’s head, the priests Jan had seen before took station. In their hands they held long poles which had glowing coals on their ends. With these they thrust at the goddess’ shoulder.
A tremor shot through the idol which Jan thought very well done. Again the master cried out.
“Rani, who shall be the victor? ANSWER!”
A snarl of pain and rage followed. The stare in those glassy eyes changed to a waking expression of wrath. Rani moved and the chains rattled savagely.
“ANSWER!” howled the master.
A flood of strange words poured from the moving lips, to hurl across the chamber and rebound like a cannonade.
“Be still!” cried the master. He whirled about. “Rani has spoken! Woe to Tarbutón. The fate of the battle will fall upon the banners of Zongri and Ramus will be vanquished forever!”
A gasp ran through the chamber, a sound which expressed shock and growing terror.
Again the goddess spoke, unbidden, in those rolling accents. But the men on the platform beside her head stabbed out with the coals and Rani was still.
“Now,” thought Jan, “while their wits are paralyzed, I’ll show them how their goddess lies—in fragments at their feet!”
He raised the ring and cried, “By the Seal of Sulayman! Part the chains!”
Mortar flew from the walls in great, angry puffs. Iron clanked in falling and then crashed resoundingly to the floor. The ancient one whirled and stared with disbelief at the monstrous figure which teetered forward toward him.
Jan ducked, waiting for the concussion of the fall. It came before he expected it—so violently that the stone cracked wide before him and the whole temple rocked!
He heard a scream of terror from the jinn and then the rush of twenty thousand feet seeking exit through the dust-choked gloom.
Tiger sprang out of his observation post and raced across the floor. Because the dancing girls were farthest from the entrance, they huddled against the jam, staring with terrified eyes at the fallen goddess, half of them probably convinced of its former power.
Tiger waded through broken granite and chips of gold. Under his feet rolled the diamonds which had bedecked the headdress. He had eyes only for one jewel, the dancing girl nearest to him. So stunned was she that she remarked not at all that it was a human being who came racing out of that fog of dust. Her lovely eyes were round with horror and did not even turn to him when he scooped her up into his arms.
The priests were as mad as the rest to get away from there, failing to understand that nothing else could happen. The death of their master had unnerved them and two rushed by Tiger within a foot without paying the slightest attention to him. Tiger disliked being ignored. When the largest priest struck the jam, Tiger snatched him by the shoulder, tearing away the flowing yellow cloak which had covered him from crown to toe. The ifrit scarcely noticed the loss.
Throwing the color of protection about them, Jan bore the girl through the packed masses, bullying a way out of the entrance and down the long stairs. Unnoticed, he reached the avenue at the bottom and dodged into a side street as soon as one presented itself. The weight of the dancing girl was slight and impeded him but little.
Already terror was beginning to spread through the city and far-off bells were ringing and horns blowing. Jan cared nothing about them. By alley and dark thoroughfare he sped swiftly to the waterfront, hardly pausing at all to leap down off a dock into a small fishing smack.
The fisherman leaped up from his dozing on a pile of nets and his two sailors came up standing a moment later. They were still asleep so far as their wits went, for Tiger had only to let the dock lights glitter on the saber and cry, “To the Morin, flagship of Admiral Tyronin!”
The sailors mechanically cast off, seeing in Tiger an espionage officer or some other in whom they would not dare take any great interest. The lateen sail dropped from its yard and filled, and in the fresh night wind they scudded between anchored vessels whose lights made yellow sea serpents upon the water.
The girl had been staring at Tiger for some time and, seeing him smile at her, she spoke. “Who . . . who are you?”
“Tiger.”
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“You are Tiger?”
“Does notoriety reach even to a jinn temple?”
“I have heard naval officers ask a blessing for you. . . . But . . . how is it that you entered the temple? That is death to a human!”
“For once it wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.”
“But why . . .” she hesitated in sudden fear. “Why have you taken me away?”
“Did you like that place?”
“Oh! No, no! I am glad to be stolen. But . . .”
“You have no need to be afraid.” It seemed so strange to see Alice Hall here and yet not be known to her. “You have never seen me before?”
“Why . . . of course not. I have seen no human being other than my dancers since I was a child!”
“Have you ever heard the name Alice Hall?”
She repeated it slowly after him, a puzzled look upon her face. “Al . . . ice. Alice Hall. I seem to have heard it somewhere before.”
“Of course you have. You are Alice Hall.”
“I?” She shook her head. “But no, I have no name but Wanna. You are making fun of me.”
“No indeed.”
“You are a very strange fellow. Why did you come to the temple?”
“To get you.”
“Me?”
“I saw you once before—here. In a telescope.”
She looked unwinkingly at him and drew the yellow cloak more tightly about her against the cold wind. She ventured a smile and clutched at his hand as he turned to watch the side of the flagship come up to them.
Slaves of Sleep & the Masters of Sleep Page 14
