"You, Sattoya, stand by the globe," he ordered one of them. "Should the Afyo Maie ask, say that I am on my way with the strangers even as she has commanded."
We passed through the lines to the corial standing like a great shell at the end of the runway leading into the green road.
"Wait you here," he said curtly to the driver. The green dwarf ascended to his seat, sought the lever and we swept on—on and out upon the glistening obsidian.
Then Rador faced us and laughed.
"Larree," he cried, "I love you for that spirit of yours! And did you think that Rador would carry to the temple prison a man who would take the chances of torment upon his own shoulders to save him? Or you, Goodwin, who saved him from the rotting death? For what did I take the corial or lift the veil of silence that I might hear what threatened you—"
He swept the corial to the left, away from the temple approach.
"I am done with Lugur and with Yolara and the Shining One!" cried Rador. "My hand is for you three and for Lakla and those to whom she is handmaiden!"
The shell leaped forward; seemed to fly.
[1] A tal in Muria is the equivalent of thirty hours of earth surface time.—W. T. G.