"Allyn, you saved my life. For your good turn my people will shelter you now. When the chase dies down you can leave us."
Live with the beast-men? Allyn started to decline but Keeven pointed out, "If you travel without me you will be hunted both by your people and mine."
There was logic in his words. "All right," he agreed, "I will go to your people."
Their path lay upward into the somber outjutting hills. Keeven was a tireless traveler, but Allyn, with the endurance of the Numen, followed easily. The day paled, and shadows lengthened on the rocks when they came through a narrow path into the cup of hills where grass grew, and the land was fertile for crops.
Several times Keeven stopped, and stood, as though listening. Once Allyn said impatiently: "I don't hear anything."
"That's just it." Keeven's face was gray. "We don't hear anything." The words gave voice to his fear. He began to run. And Allyn ran behind him. Scrambling over boulders. Leaping over fallen stumps. Down they raced to the site of the village.
No sound greeted them. And there was no hint of movement.
At the first house Keeven braked to a halt. Doors were torn away from the wood shelters, as were the tanned skins over the mouths of the caves. All about, the grass was blackened with fire, and no crops would sprout this year in the deep burned earth.
In anguish Keeven rushed from door to door, calling the names of people who had lived there. His voice keened higher with despair at each empty dwelling. Slowly Allyn followed. His own throat was tightening at the other's shock and grief.