From
the roof of the building at the center of the village a pencil of
brilliant-green light pointed straight up into the sky, and around that
spear of radiance the roof sprouted tongues of more natural
red-and-yellow flames. Figures shot from doors as the fire lapped down
the peak of the roof.

"Now!" In spite of the rising clamor, Ashe's voice carried to his two
companions.

The three sprinted for the palisade, mingling with bewildered men who
ran out of the other cabins. The waves of fire washed on, providing
light, too much light. Ashe and McNeil could pass as part of the crowd,
but Ross's unusual clothing might be easily marked.

Others were running for the wall. Ross and McNeil boosted Ashe to the
top, saw him over in safety. McNeil followed. Ross was just reaching to
draw himself up when he was enveloped in a beam of light.

A high, screeching call, unlike any shout he had heard, split the
clamor. Frantically Ross tried for a hold, knowing that he was
presenting a perfect target for those behind. He gained the top of the
stockade, looked down into a black block of shadow, not knowing whether
Ashe and McNeil were waiting for him or had gone ahead. Hearing that
strange cry again, Ross leaped blindly out into the darkness.

He landed badly, hitting hard enough to bruise, but thanks to the skill
he had learned for parachuting, he broke no bones. He got to his feet
and blundered on in the general direction of the mountain Ashe had
picked as their goal. There were others coming over the wall of the
village and moving through the shadows, so he dared not call out for
fear of alerting the enemy.

The village had been set in the widest part of the valley. Behind its
stockade the open ground narrowed swiftly, like the point of a funnel,
and all fugitives from the settlement had to pass through that channel
to escape. Ross's worst fear was that he had lost contact with Ashe and
McNeil, and that he would never be able to pick up their trail in the
wilderness ahead.

Thankful for the dark suit he wore which was protective covering in the
night, he twice ducked into the brush to allow parties of refugees to
pass him. Hearing them speak the guttural clicking speech he had learned
from Ulffa's people, Ross deduced that they were innocent of the
village's real purpose. These people were convinced they had been
attacked by night demons. Perhaps there had only been a handful of Reds
in that hidden retreat.

Ross pulled