said. And the nape-hairs at the back of Ryker's neck stirred as to a chill wind.
A quaraph! Ryker shook himself numbly: the naked imp was a telepath—a Sensitive! The telepathic gene was more common among Martians than Earthsiders, he had heard, but still rare enough.
And now he began to understand how they had played him like a fish on a hook.
No one had hunted him out of the New City and through
the winding ways of old Yeolarn. They had merely made him believe that it was so. Or Kiki had, anyway.
For a person who can read the thoughts passing through your mind finds it easy enough to insert thoughts into that mind. A telepath gifted and skillful enough can even convince your senses that they see or hear or taste or even smell things that are not really there.
They had played him for a sucker, all right.
He drank the wine moodily.
"Why me?" he asked at last.
The hunched little priest spoke up again.
"The stone seal you found in the old tomb, F'yagh," he whispered between thin lips. "We know that it is somehow precious to the accursed zhaggua, although we do not know how or why. 'The Keystone,' the old texts name it. Its magic opens the door that leads to their hidden domain. Long ago it was stolen from them, and they want it back."
"How did they know I had the thing?" grunted Ryker.
The priest stared at him with eyes as cold as a serpent's.
"Long ago there was one among the zhaggua who rebelled from their evil ways, and who thieved the Keystone from its secret place. By it he came again into this world of ours, he and his followers. But we of the hualatha, we priests of the Timeless Ones, knew him for what he truly was from his eyes of evil golden flame, and slew him and all who followed him. We buried that one in unhallowed ground, together with all that he had carried with him out of Black Zhiam. My brothers of the hualatha in that long-ago time knew naught of the nature of the Keystone, and buried him with it, you see."
"No, I don't see," the Earthling said. "But keep talking."
"The Door to Zhiam was thus left open, and could not
be sealed again unless it was done with the Keystone. The zhaggua, the devil worshippers, they knew it was in the outside world, but not where, for although there exists a strange affinity between their quaraphs and the substance whereof the Keystone is wrought, the holy signs cut like sigils upon the doors of that man's tomb kept them from detecting the place where it was hidden."
Ryker nodded slowly: it was all beginning to make sense, at last.
"Go on," he said.
But Zarouk took up the tale.
Toying absently with his winecup, he said, "The moment you broke into the tomb and thus destroyed the magic of the priests, the Sensitives among the devil-men in Black Zhiam knew of it. In time their emissaries ventured out into the world of men once again, to search for you, and to rob you of the stone. They could come and go freely from Zhiam, as Dmu Dran has said, because the way was left open."
"And until the stone was theirs, and they could close the door again," said fat Houm softly, "they would not be safe from the vengeance of men, no, not even in far Zhiam."
"What is this Zhiam?" Ryker inquired.
The priest, the prince and the merchant exchanged a glance, then shrugged.
"No reason why you should not know," said Zarouk. ' 'It is the name of their land. We neither know where it is, nor how it has been kept hidden all this while. But we shall find it."
Ryker studied him curiously.
"Listen, Zarouk, there's something about all this that doesn't quite fit," he said.
"Ask, then," shrugged the desert prince.
"You don't strike me as particularly devout," said Ryker. "Why are you so interested in all of this? What's in it for you? There' s got to be something more than meets the eye in all this, something beyond just religion."
Zarouk grinned, then threw back his head and laughed, he slapped Ryker's shoulder, shaking his head.
"Earthling, may the Timeless Ones forgive me, but I
A quaraph! Ryker shook himself numbly: the naked imp was a telepath—a Sensitive! The telepathic gene was more common among Martians than Earthsiders, he had heard, but still rare enough.
And now he began to understand how they had played him like a fish on a hook.
No one had hunted him out of the New City and through
the winding ways of old Yeolarn. They had merely made him believe that it was so. Or Kiki had, anyway.
For a person who can read the thoughts passing through your mind finds it easy enough to insert thoughts into that mind. A telepath gifted and skillful enough can even convince your senses that they see or hear or taste or even smell things that are not really there.
They had played him for a sucker, all right.
He drank the wine moodily.
"Why me?" he asked at last.
The hunched little priest spoke up again.
"The stone seal you found in the old tomb, F'yagh," he whispered between thin lips. "We know that it is somehow precious to the accursed zhaggua, although we do not know how or why. 'The Keystone,' the old texts name it. Its magic opens the door that leads to their hidden domain. Long ago it was stolen from them, and they want it back."
"How did they know I had the thing?" grunted Ryker.
The priest stared at him with eyes as cold as a serpent's.
"Long ago there was one among the zhaggua who rebelled from their evil ways, and who thieved the Keystone from its secret place. By it he came again into this world of ours, he and his followers. But we of the hualatha, we priests of the Timeless Ones, knew him for what he truly was from his eyes of evil golden flame, and slew him and all who followed him. We buried that one in unhallowed ground, together with all that he had carried with him out of Black Zhiam. My brothers of the hualatha in that long-ago time knew naught of the nature of the Keystone, and buried him with it, you see."
"No, I don't see," the Earthling said. "But keep talking."
"The Door to Zhiam was thus left open, and could not
be sealed again unless it was done with the Keystone. The zhaggua, the devil worshippers, they knew it was in the outside world, but not where, for although there exists a strange affinity between their quaraphs and the substance whereof the Keystone is wrought, the holy signs cut like sigils upon the doors of that man's tomb kept them from detecting the place where it was hidden."
Ryker nodded slowly: it was all beginning to make sense, at last.
"Go on," he said.
But Zarouk took up the tale.
Toying absently with his winecup, he said, "The moment you broke into the tomb and thus destroyed the magic of the priests, the Sensitives among the devil-men in Black Zhiam knew of it. In time their emissaries ventured out into the world of men once again, to search for you, and to rob you of the stone. They could come and go freely from Zhiam, as Dmu Dran has said, because the way was left open."
"And until the stone was theirs, and they could close the door again," said fat Houm softly, "they would not be safe from the vengeance of men, no, not even in far Zhiam."
"What is this Zhiam?" Ryker inquired.
The priest, the prince and the merchant exchanged a glance, then shrugged.
"No reason why you should not know," said Zarouk. ' 'It is the name of their land. We neither know where it is, nor how it has been kept hidden all this while. But we shall find it."
Ryker studied him curiously.
"Listen, Zarouk, there's something about all this that doesn't quite fit," he said.
"Ask, then," shrugged the desert prince.
"You don't strike me as particularly devout," said Ryker. "Why are you so interested in all of this? What's in it for you? There' s got to be something more than meets the eye in all this, something beyond just religion."
Zarouk grinned, then threw back his head and laughed, he slapped Ryker's shoulder, shaking his head.
"Earthling, may the Timeless Ones forgive me, but I
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