ck, above which a rose light
burned dimly. Urg reached within the hollow and drew out a pair of high
buskins which he aided Garin to lace on. They were a good fit, having
been fashioned for a man of the Ancient Ones.

The passage before them was narrow and crooked. There was a thick carpet
of dust underfoot, patterned by the prints of the Folk. They rounded a
corner and a tall door loomed out of the gloom. Urg pressed the surface,
there was a click and the stone rolled back.

[Illustration: _With the Ana perched on his shoulder and the green rod
of destruction in his hand, Garin strode into the gloom of Tav--pledged
to bring the Daughter out of the Caves of Darkness...._]

"This is the Place of Ancestors," he announced as he stepped within.

They were at the end of a colossal hall whose domed roof disappeared
into shadows. Thick pillars of gleaming crystal divided it into aisles,
all leading inward to a raised dais of oval shape. Filling the aisles
were couches and each soft nest held its sleeper. Near to the door lay
the men and women of the Folk, but closer to the dais were the Ancient
Ones. Here and there a couch bore a double burden, upon the shoulder of
a man was pillowed the drooping head of a woman. Urg stopped beside such
a one.

"See, outlander, here was one who was called from your world. Marena of
the House of Light looked with favor upon him and their days of
happiness were many."

The man on the couch had red-gold hair and on his upper arm was a heavy
band of gold whose mate Garin had once seen in a museum. A son of
pre-Norman Ireland. Urg traced with a crooked finger the archaic
lettering carved upon the stone base of the couch.

"Lovers in the Light sleep sweetly. The Light returns on the appointed
day."

"Who lies there?" Garin motioned to the dais.

"The first Ancient Ones. Come, look upon those who made this Tav."

On the dais the couches were arranged in two rows and between them, in
the center, was a single couch raised above the others. Fifty men and
women lay as if but resting for the hour, smiles on their peaceful faces
but weary shadows beneath their eyes. There was an un-human quality
about them which was lacking in their descendents.

Urg advanced to the high couch and beckoned Garin to join him. A man and
a woman lay there, the woman's head upon the man's breast. There was
that in their faces which made Garin turn away. He felt as if he had
intruded roughly where no man should go.