order of exile. "I would know how
you fared and whether your wounds yet troubled you."

He looked down at his own smooth flesh, cleanly healed by the wisdom of
the Folk. "I am myself again and eager to be at such work as Dandtan can
find for me...."

Her robe seemed to hiss across the floor as she turned upon him. "Then
go!" she ordered. "Go quickly!"

And blindly he obeyed. She had spoken as if to a servant, one whom she
could summon and dismiss by whim. Even if Dandtan held her love, she
might have extended him her friendship. But he knew within him that
friendship would be a poor crumb beside the feast his pulses pounded
for.

There was a pattering of feet behind him. So, she would call him back!
His pride sent him on. But it was Sera. Her head thrust forward until
she truly resembled a reptile.

"Fool! Morgel!" she spat. "Even the Black Ones did not treat her so. Get
you out of the Place of Women lest they divide your skin among them!"

Garin broke free, not heeding her torrent of reproach. Then he seized
upon one of the Folk as a guide and sought the laboratories. Far beneath
the surface of Tav, where the light-motes shone ghostly in the gloom,
they came into a place of ceaseless activity, where there were tables
crowded with instruments, coils of glass and metal tubing, and other
equipment and supplies. These were the focusing point for ceaseless
streams of the Folk. On a platform at the far end, Garin saw the tall
son of the Ancient Ones working on a framework of metal and shining
crystal.

He glanced up as Garin joined him. "You are late," he accused. "But your
excuse is a good one. Now get you to work. Hold this here--and
here--while I fasten these clamps."

So Garin became extra hands and feet for Dandtan, and they worked
feverishly to build against the lifting of the Mists. There was no day
or night in the laboratories. They worked steadily without rest, and
without feeling fatigue.

Twice they went to the Chamber of Renewing, but except for these trips
to the upper ways they were not out of the laboratories through all
those days. Of Thrala there was no sign, nor did any one speak of her.

The Cavern dwellers were depending upon two defenses: an evil green
liquid, to be thrown in frail glass globes, and a screen charged with
energy. Shortly before the lifting of the Mists, these arms were
transported to the entrance and installed there. Dandtan and Garin made
a last inspection.

"Kepta makes t