"The queen took him away," the boy said before Conan could speak. "He won't tell me how he did it, but they were gone a long time and-"

"I shall explain it all later;" Conan interrupted hastily. "Now it would be best if we departed."

Cheen gave him a doubtful look, then finally nodded. "Aye. Tair and the rest continued following the selkies' trail. They'll want our help."

"And the lizard men might field pursuit," Conan said.

"We have achieved half our goal," Cheen said. She ruffled Hok's hair. "I am glad to see you, little brother."

They started off.

Kleg continued moving through the night and it was well that he did so, for he was never more than half an hour in front of his pursuers. He could not be certain that they even knew he existed, but a search of the dead selkies would not have revealed the talisman; doubtless the lizard men continued to follow, still seeking that same item.

Came the glimmerings of dawn and Kleg's step faltered somewhat; despite his great strength, his flight had tired him more than a little. His goal lay near at hand, though. The stark palisade of the village of Karatas rose to meet the morning's mists just ahead.

To the east of the settlement stood what appeared to be a rocky hill. Upon closer examination, the hill proved to be a single, huge chunk of rock, all of a piece, and the rays of the sleepy sun revealed this eminent boulder's single hue to be a deep and rich jet. Against the greenery of trees and gra.s.s, the black rock stood out like a blotch of dark paint on an albino's pale arm. The village, Kleg knew, had been named after this geologic phenomenon, for the name Karatas itself meant "black rock" in the tongue of those who had first settled the area.

Kleg hurried toward the towering wall of wood ahead of him. The magic talisman b.u.mped his waist within the pouch he wore. Nearly safe, he was. True, one could enter the crater lake anywhere and make one's way through the Sarga.s.so, but the unexplored weed was fraught with dangers. The safest tunnels through the growth began where the village met the water; besides, once inside the city, the lizard men's pursuit would end. The gates might be opened for a single Pili, but certainly not for an armed force of them; the administrators of Karatas wanted no more trouble than already existed within the protective walls. The Pili would know as much.

The wall loomed. Kleg came to stand under the guard post mounted over the smaller of the two gates on the road leading to the village.

"Ho, the gate watch!"

A fat, bearded man helmeted in a bowllike morion leaned out to look down at Kleg. "Aye, 'tis the watch. Who calls?"

"Kleg, Prime servant of He Who Creates, seeking entrance."

The guard moved back from sight, and the long bronze lever that controlled the smaller door creaked in its channel. An instant later, the iron-backed door swung outward on its thick, oiled hinges. "Enter, Prime."

Kleg smiled as he strode into the village. They knew him here, and they wanted no trouble with his master, upon whose sufferance they existed. He Who Creates could, if He so desired, magically wipe the village away as easily as a selkie crushing a water bug, and all who resided therein surely must know it.

When the gate swung shut behind him, Kleg felt a sense of relief. He would find a place to eat and to rest before going into the Sarga.s.so. He could afford to spend a day recuperating, now that the end of his quest had drawn so near.

There was an oasis in the desert across which Conan, Cheen, and the others trekked, a splash of greenery that edged a spring-fed pond, and it was to this oasis that the group made their way under the oppressive heat of the sun.

As the men and women of the Tree Folk's party filled their water skins and rested in the cool shade, Cheen took Conan aside.

"Much as I would like to continue, we should rest and wait here until evening," she said. "The desert drinks the life of those who seek to cross this part of it on foot during the day."

Conan nodded. There had been no sign of pursuit from the Pili, and desert travel was best done under the cool moon and not her hotter brother, the sun.

"Come and explain what Hok spoke of, regarding the Queen of the Pili," Cheen said, laying her hand on Conan's arm. "There is a quiet place, just over there, beneath the shade of that flowered bush, where we will not be disturbed."

Conan looked at the swelling of Cheen's b.r.e.a.s.t.s under the thin shirt she wore, at the tightness of her muscles, and at the bright smile she gave him. He became aware that it was very possible his explanation would be accompanied by a demonstration, and despite his resolve about women, at the moment the idea was not unpleasant in the least.

"Aye," he said, returning her smile.

Thayla's tracker found the place where Conan and the boy had been joined by others, so that their party now matched the queen's own number. The Pili set off to follow, but shortly thereafter, a desert wind began to blow, stirring the sand and dust, and within minutes,

the tracks of the escapees and their new companions were completely obscured.

Thayla led her troop across the desert, a mixture of fear and anger simmering in her hot blood. How dare that man leave before she was done with him? And what would happen to her if ever her husband should stumble onto Conan?

One of her troopers made to approach the queen. "Should we not go to the oasis, milady?"

The queen shook her head. "We are Pili, we can travel without water."

"Beg your pardon, milady, that is true, we can, but the humans might-"

"We will pa.s.s the oasis," she. said, "and perhaps in so doing get ahead of them, where we can set a trap."

"Ah," the trooper said. "Wise."

Thayla did not bother to reply to his flattery. Were she wise, they would be feasting on cooked manflesh in the mound and not chasing their dinner across the desert.

From the castle that rode the Sarga.s.so, Dimma sent forth a magical call. There responded to the command a number of unnatural beings who owed their existence to earlier magicks of the Mist Mage: skreeches arose from the lake's depths, joined by the eels of power, and finally, the gigantic and omnivorous Kralix.

The skreeches were half-fish and half something that resembled women, and in the air, their voices in concert produced a hypnotic drone that drew those who heard as spilled honey draws flies. A man unwary enough to fall into the clutches of a skreech would find himself dead in short order, for the skreeches drank blood. A dozen of them swam up to answer their master's call.

The eels of power attained at full growth the length of a tall man and the thickness of his arm, and each bore within its body an energy akin to the lightning from a storm. To touch an eel in the water was to die stunned and blasted. A score of the eels came to the summons.

The Kralix was one of a kind. It was twice the size of an ox, its skin a glistening, mottled gray green, and it would eat plant or flesh with equal interest, and could swim the waters or stalk the land with nearly equal ability. It most resembled a thing that might have been born of wolf, bear, and toad, had the three somehow mated together, and its curse was- that it felt neither pain nor joy. All the Kralix ever felt was hunger, and unleashed, it would eat itself into a stupor. It was an amphibian nightmare, the Kralix, and its power was unequaled by any beast in the lake and few that had ever walked the land.

Dimma sent these minions into the weed, toward the village that perched on the rim of the water. "Go," he said. "Go and find my Prime selkie and escort him to me."

Obediently, they went.

Dimma floated in his throne room. The skreeches and eels would be limited to the lake, but the Kralix could attain the land. Certainly its appearance in the village would be cause for consternation. Dimma smiled at the thought. Given enough time, the Kralix could chew its way through the palisade wall itself, and Dimma had given it the essence of his Prime selkie as a guide. Wherever Kleg was, the Kralix would find him. And woe be to anybody or anything that got in the Ranafrosch's path ....

Under the thick bush in the oasis, Conan leaned on one elbow, grinning at Cheen. As he had hoped, his explanation of his adventures with the lizard queen had ended in a demonstration of sorts. Cheen's responses had been most enthusiastic.

Cheen returned his smile. "I had wondered about you since we met," she said.

"And now?"

"Now my curiosity is well satisfied."

Now that he had recovered Hok, Conan wondered about the second part of their quest. "What of the magic talisman?"

Cheen sat up and began to dress. Conan felt a slight stab of regret, for she was very comely without her clothes. He decided that he much liked women with a certain amount of muscle. It was both attractive and useful.

"I am attuned to the Seed," Cheen said. "Wherever it might be, if I can but get close enough, it will call to me."

That should make things somewhat easier, Conan decided. He said as much.

Cheen finished dressing. "We should rest," she said. "We leave when the sun begins his sleep."

Conan nodded. He lay back on the cushion of dead leaves and soft earth and, within moments, fell into a deep slumber untroubled by dreams.