Above the Precinct were the cliffs again soaring terribly to the sky.
Now the procession was stopping. It was before the great bronze doors. The doors were opening, showing a glimpse of the wonder place within. Here a company of priests, with the old president or Hosios, received them.
They greeted Dryas. Then—
“But where is Nikander?” they asked.
“He said he would join us,” answered Dryas. “He should be with us by now.”
“We will wait for him,” said the old Hosios.
And so they waited. Moments—a half hour and still Nikander did not arrive. The priests began to stir impatiently. Dryas looked around with anxious eyes.
Theria slipped back among the slaves.
“Baltè,” she said, “he does not come!”