IT WAS only because there came a swift lull in the storm that Grandon was able to follow the monster to its subterranean cave. The big reptile crouched with its back toward him as he came upon it, its body half out of the water.
On the floor lay its victim, but the creature seemed to be in no hurry. It was nosing its prey, in the manner of a cat playing with a mouse. Presently, the victim sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Grandon raised the muzzle of his tork above the water, aimed for the swaying head, and touched the button. At the sound and impact, the creature turned—and Grandon was dealt a blow from behind that hurled him into the far corner of the cave.
The tork bullets were useless; he drew his sword as he dodged about in the cave to elude snapping jaws and that scaly tail which had floored him before. It seemed hopeless; his point glanced off the creature’s scales as from armor plate.
Cornered, those jaws open to seize him, he lunged out wildly. The weapon was jerked from his hand, but no teeth closed upon him. Then he saw that he had driven big blade through the reptile’s eye and deep into its brain. After a few shudders, it keeled over.
Bracing his foot against the massive head, he wrenched his sword free, and turned to face the youth who was approaching him. “Come,” he said, “we must get out of here quickly.” Another creature might appear, and Grandon didn’t want to trust to luck again.
A dim light emanated from a point farther back. There was a small hole in the top of the bank, and Grandon widened it with his sword, enough to let them through.
Outside, the Earthman had a chance really to observe his companion, who was clad from head to foot in shining scarlet leather. The head and face were covered by a pointed hood of the same material; on impulse, Grandon reached forward and pulled back the concealing headpiece. That was when he gasped in wonder.
For a moment, the golden-haired girl thus revealed met his astonished gaze; then she regained her poise, with a look of regal hauteur. “Why did you do that?” she asked icily.
“Frankly, I do not know. If I have offended, I crave your pardon.”
Some of the coldness departed, but she did not smile. “Then let us be on our way,” she said, adjusting the hood.
He turned and, together, they walked back among the lengthening shadows toward the river’s edge. Owing to the recent cloudburst the current was abnormally swift, carrying the floating storm debris past them at express-train speed. There were great, uprooted trees, detached branches and leaves of various sizes and kinds, and a number of huge toadstools.
As they stood there on the brink the cap of a great orange-colored toadstool was caught in an eddy and whirled against the shore. The stem had been broken off completely, and it formed a water-tight basin about twelve feet in diameter. Grandon leaped forward and hauled it in.
“What are you going to do with that?” asked the girl.
“If I can cut a suitable paddle,” replied Grandon, “I believe I can make it serve as a boat to convey us across the river, where I have reason to suspect your friends, as well as mine, are located.”
He looked about until he found a strong branch that suited his purpose, then made a most serviceable paddle by using the limb for the handle and the base of the broad leaf for the blade.
“Come,” said Grandon. “We must start quickly if we would gain the other shore before dark.”
She stepped aboard, and Grandon pushed off, wading out to where the water was breast-deep before climbing up beside her in order to clear the eddy which might again carry the craft shoreward.
The Earthman had taken many canoe trips, but he had not considered the difference in shape between a canoe and the inverted cap of a Zarovian toadstool. Instead of making the headway he anticipated, he found himself merely going around in a circle.
It was some time before he found a way simultaneously to guide and propel his awkward craft, which he accomplished by standing on the side toward which he wished to go and scooping the water toward him. They laboriously reached midstream after about an hour’s hard paddling, but in the interim the swift current had carried them many miles from their starting point. Then, to Grandon’s consternation, the paddle broke.
“I guess we’re in for it now,” he said dejectedly. “Fool that I was to risk your life in this overgrown bowl.”
“What of your own life?” she replied. “You are running no less risk than I.”
As she spoke darkness descended, the black, moonless darkness of Venus. Grandon sat in moody silence, straining his eyes in his effort to penetrate the surrounding gloom, his ears on the alert for any sound which might indicate the presence of the dangerous reptilian creatures that inhabited the waters.
Presently a soft hand sought his, and clung there.
“What is it?” he asked hoarsely, endeavoring to still the quiver of emotion that suddenly took possession of his vocal cords.
“I am tired—oh, so tired. And yes, frightened. To think that I should be frightened!”
“Here,” he said, stripping off his cloak and rolling it into a pillow. “I have been inexcusably thoughtless. Now lie with your head on this pillow, so, and try to get some sleep. I will keep watch.”
He withdrew a little way and once more sat quietly with senses alert for the slightest sound or sign of hostile attack. It was some time before her regular breathing, scarcely audible above the sound of the rushing waters, told him that she slept.
Toward morning the noises made by the amphibians ceased, and Grandon grew drowsy. His head nodded forward on his breast. Suddenly their craft gave a terrific lurch that rolled the girl into his lap. It was only his clutching the gills of the toadstool with both hands that kept them from being pitched into the water.
“What was that?” asked the girl, breathlessly, awake in an instant.
Another lurch followed.
“Hold on and I will try to find out,” he said.
Drawing his sword, he crept near the edge while the lurching continued. He clung to the rim with one hand and prodded the water about him with his sword, completely circling the craft without encountering anything other than the rushing waters. It was not until a dash of spray struck him in the face and he tasted salt that he realized the truth. They were on a body of salt water, possibly a large lake or an ocean. He made his way back to where the girl clung, and related his discovery.
“The river on which we were floating,” she explained, “empties into the great Azpok Ocean, the ocean of mysteries, of man-eating monsters and of terrible storms that destroy the mightiest of ships as easily as the smallest boats. To navigate the ocean is to court death in many sudden and appalling forms.”
An hour passed before morning dawned. In the meantime the roughness of the sea had abated a little, making it less difficult to keep their places. They were riding long, rolling swells that elevated and lowered their craft with very little lurching. There was no land in sight.
All through that long, sultry day and the following night they drifted, without sighting aught save birds and a few leaping fish. Just before dawn they were rudely startled by a violent tilting of their craft, followed by a roaring and swirling of the water about them. Grandon barely had time to seize the girl ere they were engulfed by a huge wave which capsized the craft and precipitated them into a seething maelstrom of black water.
Down—down, they went into the dark depths. The Earthman fought gamely, but as the minutes passed the violence of the waves increased and he felt his strength waning. He realized that, barring the intervention of some unforeseen aid, the battle against death would soon end in defeat.
With body numbed and hope gone, he suddenly felt the sandy beach below his feet. He staggered forward, dragging the girl with him, and was knocked flat by a mighty breaker. Crawling painfully onward, driving his flagging muscles by a supreme effort of will, he finally collapsed on the dry sand, just beyond reach of the waves.
When Grandon regained consciousness it was daylight. His first thought was for the girl who lay face downward beside him. As he lifted her tenderly in his arms he gave silent thanks, for she was breathing.
Presently she opened her eyes and, for a moment, there was a startled expression in them. “Where are we?” she asked.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” replied Grandon. “I have no knowledge of Zarovian geography.”
“A prince, and you know naught of geography? That is indeed strange. Do they not teach it in your country?”
“I am fairly well acquainted with the geography of the planet Earth—Terra—on which I was born, but we of that world know nothing of the geography of this one because of your cloud-filled atmosphere.”
She looked up at him in amazement. “But you wear the garments and insignia of the royal house of Uxpo. Moreover, you very closely resemble a prince of that house. Who are you?”
“I am Robert Grandon, of Terra.”
“Grandon, of Terra? Ah, I recall the name. A Grandon, of Terra, was recently acclaimed Prince of Uxpo. It was said that he came in fulfillment of a prophecy from another world. And you are he. Truly the pranks of fortune are most amazing! Yesterday I made war on you; today I look to you for protection.”
“You made war on me? May I ask who you are?”
“Can it be that you do not recognize me? I am Vernia, of Reabon.”
It all came to him in a flash. The lifelike painting in the shrine at the marble quarries. “How did you happen to be wandering alone and unarmed in the fern forest?”
“I did not set out alone. When I started away from the camp I was accompanied by my four guards, and was armed with a tork and scarbo. Zueppa sent a messenger from the front to inform me that your men had broken through our lines and were headed for the camp. He advised me to leave at once, saying that the guards would conduct me to a safe place until your army had been overcome. I followed Zueppa’s counsel, but had gone only a short distance when the guards disarmed me, and informed me that I was their prisoner.
“They were about to bind my hands when the giant reptile appeared on the scene. Though traitors, they were brave men, for they stood their ground to do battle with the monster. He killed the foremost man with a single snap of his jaws. A second man met a like fate, and I believe he devoured all four of them—although I am not certain, as I turned and ran through the forest. When the storm came, I lost my bearings completely. I reached the river’s edge where I fainted when I saw those terrible jaws poised above me. I presume that I should have been devoured then and there had the reptile not already eaten my guards.”
“Who is Zueppa?”
“He is one of my officers—a good commander and strategist.”
“He may be a good soldier, but he is unquestionably a liar. My men did not break through your lines at all until after the storm had struck, and then only in small, scattered groups.”
“Then Zueppa was implicated in the plot. But who could have planned it, and for what purpose?”
“That, I am unable to tell you.”
He looked at her so long and so searchingly that she grew uneasy. “Of what are you thinking?”
“I was wondering what fate you would have meted out to me had your men captured me yesterday.”
She smiled. “I should probably have had you beheaded.
“And now we reach Reabon in safety I shall make you supreme commander over all the armies.”
“Why?”
“As your reward for saving my life.”
“I ask no reward for that, nor could I accept it, much as I appreciate the honor.”
“It is the second highest in the greatest nation of Zarovia, an office second only to my own. Why, any king on the globe would be glad to exchange his position for it.”
“I have been made Prince of Uxpo,” replied Grandon, “under my own name and because of my deeds in behalf of that kingdom. I should rather be the tiniest twinkling star in the heavens than the most beautiful and brilliant planet.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”
“Planets shine by reflected light-stars by virtue of their own brilliancy. As your general I should merely reflect the greatness that is yours.”
“Perhaps you should prefer to continue the war.”
“Infinitely. But pray, let us hold to our truce. Until we can reach the safety of our own countries we are allies, you know.”
“Rather, I am your prisoner of war . . . We tally much and get nowhere,” she said wearily. “I am both hungry and thirsty. Do you not feed your prisoners of war?”
They walked inland through barren country to the foot of a lofty perpendicular cliff. Through a narrow fissure they caught a glimpse of greenery beyond, so they hurried between the frowning rock walls and at last emerged on level ground.
They were on the border of a small inland lake, the water of which was as clear as crystal. Ferns, mosses and fungi grew all about its borders in luxurious profusion, but what aroused Grandon’s interest and curiosity most was the appearance of the bottom of the lake, which was plainly visible.
It was covered with hundreds of odd, grotesque growths—upright fluted columns with thick branches of the same pattern curving upward from the trunks like the arms of candelabra. On the tips of the branches were great clusters of brilliantly-hued fruitlike globes in an endless variety of form and color. The effect of the entire lake bottom was like that of a thousand rainbows fused into one.
A look of terror came into the eyes of the girl.
“Now I know only too well where we are,” she said. “This must be one of the submarine gardens of the terrible flying grampites. I have heard some of our hardiest mariners tell of these gardens and the horrible creatures who guard them.
“Let us eat and drink, first, then talk of the grampites afterward,” said Grandon. “They may be dangerous creatures, but they will have to go some to outclass that reptile.”
A clear, cold spring, bubbling from the rock wall satisfied their thirst, after which Grandon cut some spore-pods from a nearby fern and split them with his knife. They were in prime condition, and made a most pleasing meal for the famished wayfarers.
“It must be,” Grandon remarked, “that these underwater fruits are especially delectable morsels, if men risk their lives for them.”
“They are, and of a flavor that excels anything else that grows on Zarovia.”
“I will gather some for you,” said Grandon, removing his heavy trappings. “They should be easily plucked.”
“No, no!” she cried. “Please don’t go. You may be seen and killed by the grampites.”
He laughed at her fears, and stripped down to his loincloth. Then, taking his long knife between his teeth, he plunged into the clear water. Swimming from cluster to cluster he found one that suited his fancy, and cut the thick stem.
As he did so, he saw a black shadow move swiftly across the surface of the lake above him. It puzzled him not a little, for he had seen no living creature other than his companion when he entered the water. He reached the surface with a few powerful strokes, and made for the point where he had left the girl, but the spot was deserted.
Vernia had disappeared as completely and mysteriously as if the earth had opened and swallowed her.