Garan the Eternal: An Epic Adventure of Time and the Stars by Andre Norton

Author:Andre Norton [Norton, Andre]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2014-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Setting our fingers in the crack of the hidden door we tore it open. Zacat retrieved his sword and then we were on the ramp, eyes strained and staring, hearts pounding as if we were engaged in a race which was taxing us to the very limit of our strength. We were halfway up when an amber shadow joined us.

“The dancers are strong meat, soldiers.” Again mockery overlay Lania’s tones. “Too strong for you, it seems.”

I rounded on her, half in earnest, half playing the role I had set myself. “Give us no more of your devilish mysteries. We wish human pleasures, not those subscribed to by night demons!”

“To hear is to obey, Lord. What do you say to a quiet supper in a private room — with suitable companions in attendance?”

“That will do, mistress,” Zacat growled acceptance.

With the air of knowing well how to please us, she led the way through a maze of turning, twisting corridors and elaborate chambers until we came into a small, but fanciful, room done in steely blue. Four life-sized figures quartered the hemisphere that was dome and wall. Great, gray grippons they were, rearing as though in anger.

I did not need Zacat’s sudden grip upon my arm to tell me where I was. We stood in the room Thran had appointed for our meeting place.

There was a low divan at the far end of the chamber and there Lania bid us seat ourselves while she went to give orders for our serving. But as she was going she looked full into my face.

“The room pleases you, Lord?”

“Well enough,” I answered shortly.

To my utter amazement she laughed and flung back her head, so that for the first time we saw clearly the face beneath her tangled mass of copper curls. Anatan rose to his feet with a sharp cry of mixed discovery and chagrin.

“Analia!”

“Even so, brother.” Again she laughed. Then, going to our right, she twitched the curtain hanging there. Thran stepped forth, all signs of drunkenness gone from him, again the keen, masterful figure I had seen that morning in the Hall of the Nine Princes.

And he led Ila by the hand, but now there was a subtle difference in her bearing as if beneath her paint lay hidden another identity.

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