Stiff, wordless, Craig let her lead him through the throng and din of the assembled barons and their ladies ... out of the emerald sunlight, along the shadowy porticos of the tower itself.
The Central Tower. The Tower of Zenaor.
The girl darted a quick glance back over her shoulder, then whispered, "Hurry! We must get out before they realize that we are missing!" Catching Craig's hand in hers, half-running, she pulled him through the nearest door, into the massive building.
There were corridors, then, and stairs and ramps, all leading downward, till at last they moved along a dusty, dim-lit passageway that seemed to stretch forever, echoing and empty.
Abruptly, Craig pulled the girl up short. "It's time for explanations," he clipped flatly.
The grey eyes rose to meet his, cool and steady. "You came to Lysor on complaint of Tumek, did you not?"
"Yes."
"And he charged that my father planned aggression that might endanger even your Federation?"
Again, Craig nodded.
The girl leaned close. "Do you realize what that means, Craig Nesom? Can you imagine to what lengths the barons will go in order to keep you from reaching Tumek?"