An ovoid slice of the gemlike material slid aside, revealing a doorway. I glimpsed a path, a trail, leading into a forest pallid green beneath the wan light. This way thrust itself like a black tongue into the boskage and vanished in the depths.
“Follow it.” He pointed. “Take those who came with you and follow it.”
The wrinkles upon his face writhed with his eagerness.
“You will go?” panted Yuruk. “You will take them and go by that path?”
“Not yet,” I answered absently. “Not yet.”
And was brought abruptly to full alertness, vigilance, by the flame of rage that filled the eyes thrust so close.
“Lead back,” I directed curtly. He slid the door into place, turned sullenly. I followed, wondering what were the sources of the bitter hatred he so plainly bore for us; the reasons for his eagerness to be rid of us despite the commands of this woman who to him at least was goddess.
And by that curious human habit of seeking for the complex when the simple answer lies close, failed to recognize that it was jealousy of us that was the root of his behavior; that he wished to be, as it would seem he had been for years, the only human thing near Norhala; failed to realize this, and with Ruth and Drake was terribly to pay for this failure.
I looked down upon the pair, sleeping soundly; upon Ventnor lost still in trance.
“Sit,” I ordered the eunuch. “And turn your back to me.”