avern, full of antique wonders never heard of on earth, filled with a
blue haze, and only she and the tall fierce rucker....

CHAPTER IV

The Mink has come to the bright sun's light,
His pick is lifted high;
He hears the gentry's whooping yell,
And sees them gallop by.

"Now all too long we've felt the yoke,
And cringed and fawned and died!
'Tis time we turned upon the squire,
To skin his rotten hide!"

--Ruck's Ballad of the Mink

Revel was sitting beside the hole in the wall, now filled with rocks, of
course; he had replaced the four small guns in his belt and found, by
breaking open the chest they'd lain on, a number of boxes of ammunition,
with which he'd stuffed his pockets. Experiment had shown him how to
load, and tradition of the ruck told him that to shoot, one pointed the
end at something (or someone, he told himself grimly) and pulled the
small curved projection. The woman should have helped him, but she was
sulking in a corner, weeping. She had not wept an hour before!

He wondered if he were the first rucker to hold a gun. Surely the first
to have four such tiny weapons, at least.

He heard voices from beyond the wall, filtering in, oddly distorted,
through the air spaces between rocks. That was Jerran.

"Yes, he came down here, and threatened me with his pick all dripping
yellow, said he'd killed a lot of gods. Crazy, that's what he was!"
Jerran's voice broke, a neat bit of acting. "Sure there's an emotion
trail! You think I wasn't scared of that maniac? Wasn't he excited? He
stayed here a minute and then left again."

That was clever. Jerran had explained away the psychic scent left by the
Lady Nirea. He must be talking to a god. But another voice spoke now,
and Revel sat up, thinking, The gods don't make sounds!

"Was there a girl with him, a girl of the gentry in a silver gown?"

"No, Lord Ewyo--" it was her father, then!--"he was alone."

"He may have hidden her body somewhere," said a heavy voice. Rack, by
the Orbs, Revel's brother Rack! "He's turned violent today."

"I understand he's your brother?" said Ewyo.

"Aye. A strong violent man, but worse today than ever he's been."

"No rucker would dare harm Lady Nirea," whined Jerran.

"No rucker should dared have touched her," barked the squire. Then, his
voice respectful, he asked, "Can you tell me if she's dead, priest?"

There was a croak like a bull-frog's, a chugarum with word