"Oh!" He laughed in mirthless near-hysteria at the thought of himself as the unconquerable El-ve-don. Her words left him bleakly despondent.
"What happened to the others who were near me when—this—happened?" he asked. "The man and the woman?"
Krasna straightened in surprise. "There were others? Oh! Perhaps one of them is El-ve-don!"
"I doubt it," Eldon said wryly.
But Krasna's excitement was not to be quelled. She spoke to the lemur-thing as if to another human, and the creature scuttled up the tunnel leading to the surface. Eldon thought once more of the witch-familiars of Earth legends. If he had come through to Varda, perhaps Vardans had visited Earth.
"We shall find out about them soon," she said.
"What happens to me?" Eldon wanted to know.
He had to repeat his question, for Krasna had suddenly become deeply preoccupied. At last she looked at him. There was pity in her glance, not pity for his situation but pity for a disfigured, frightened and querulous cripple. She did not understand the overwhelming longing for Earth which was mounting within him every second. Her pity grated upon his nerves. He could pity himself all he chose—and he had reason enough—but he rejected the pity of others.
"Well?" he demanded.