Back around the ship, a ring of blinding lights came on as if to emphasize the death that lurked in the outer darkness. Jarl surged to his feet. Stiff with tension, he searched the gloom for some hint of Ylana.
Off to the right, close by the bulkhead, a dull sound rang, as of some object striking metal.
Groping, Jarl found a broken brace-bar to serve him as a weapon. Wary, taut-nerved, he worked his way towards the spot from which the noise had come.
But he found nothing. Grim recognition of the hopelessness of his task crept through him.
He fought it down. Swinging round, deliberately, he kicked a crystalizing metal plate fallen from the great hull's roof.
The sound echoed, loud and startling in the silence. Jarl stood stock-still, straining his ears for some reaction.
So close at hand it made him jerk, there was a sudden rasp of movement.
Heedless now of noise, Jarl sprinted towards it. In a mighty leap, he cleared a heap of black-scorched litter.
Ylana crouched beyond it. Face a white blotch in the murk, she started up as he made the hurdle. Her mouth came open. He could hear the first whisper of a scream rising in her throat.