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they
leave this freezing water as soon as possible, Conan thought, and find another
exit before darkness enshrouded them totally. He began to wade from the pool to
the nearest shore, Elashi’s weight being small burden on his efforts.
    “Crom!”
    Elashi leaned back from her tight embrace to look at Conan’s face.
“What it is?”
    Conan did not answer but nodded toward the shadows of the cave. Elashi
turned slightly to see what had drawn the oath from the Cimmerian.
    Moving into the fast-dwindling light from out of the
hidden depths of the cave came a double handful of… things. White they were, squat creatures more kin to ape than human. They wore no clothing save their own shaggy fur, and while each face showed a
nose and mouth, where their eyes would be were only blank flesh and bone. They
bore very large ears, however.
    “Mitra!” Elashi said.
    The water now stood below Conan’s knees. He increased his pace, to reach the
shore before the eyeless white creatures would arrive. Elashi relaxed her hold
upon Conan and reached for her sword. Conan drew his own weapon as the two of
them attained the drier, but still damp stone floor.
    “Perhaps they are friendly,” Elashi said. She did not sound
particularly convinced.
    “Perhaps,” Conan said. “But let us keep our blades ready in
case they are not.”
    She did not argue with that.
    The blind white creatures moved closer.
     
    The Harskeel was enraged: six of its men dead, two more dying, and another
three wounded badly enough to require that they quit the chase. Only nine
remained uninjured after slaying the hellish beast that had attacked them. The
barbarian and the woman had escaped; night staked its claim to the day even as
the Harskeel had its troops lay a rough camp. Damnation! The quarry had been
within their grasp! Now they would have to wait until first light to
proceed—who knew if the slain monster had a mate or kin in the hills?—and the
Harskeel would bet gold against goat dung that Conan and the female with him
would not dally, awaiting their pursuers. By the Nameless and all of its furry
minions! Knowing there was nothing to be done for it decreased the Harskeel’s rage not one whit.

* * *
    Wikkell was weakening the cave roof for yet another pitfall trap when one of
the Blind Whites ran into the chamber and skittered to a stop against the heavy
ladder upon which the cyclops stood precariously balanced.
    “Idiot!” Wikkell yelled as the ladder
swayed.
    The Blind White chittered something in its own language, a tongue that
Wikkell had been required to learn in order to perform his duties for Katamay
Rey.
    “What? What are you babbling about?”
    The creature repeated its hastily blurted speech, and this time Wikkell was able
to make sense of it. The man, the one they sought, had fallen into the trap
below the pass’s summit!
    Wikkell hastened to scramble down the ladder. Success, and so soon! The
wizard would be pleased. “Do you have him?”
    The Blind White assured Wikkell that this was so. Ten of his brothers
surrounded the trapped man and would doubtless already be bearing him to one of
the lock chambers in the Whites’ main cave.
    “Good, good!” With that, Wikkell shuffled off after the Blind
White to fetch his quarry.
     
    Deek heard the tale from a leathery-brown Bloodbat, who swooped down to
perch on a stalagmite nearby. Deek did not particularly trust the bats, since
they were always willing to switch allegiance to whomever offered the most
reward; still, at the moment the monkey-sized bats seemed prone to work for
Chuntha… after the generous offer of breeding space.
    Deek dragged that portion of himself that passed for a vocal apparatus over
the rock. “A-are y-y-you s-sure?”
    Certain, the bat affirmed. A pair of blood-filled humans had fallen into One
Eye’s traps: a large and likely delicious meaty one, and a smaller tidbit.
    Deek agitated his scraper back and forth rapidly. “ Wh- what
h-h-happened to th-the