"I have you, Kortha. At last, I have you where I want you. I have searched for a long time without success. Where did you hide yourself? Ah, well—it makes no difference. You are to die, Kortha, and I—Guantra!—am to be your executioner.
"Did you suspect that I learned the secret of Yassa, Kortha? If you did, and I think as much, you are right. It cost ten men's lives, but I learned it. It was a lethal ray that blasted whoever passed those black doors. We smashed it out of existence, reluctantly. It was a hellish thing. I would have given much to have saved it, but," sighing, "it could not be done. But I found other articles to take its place."
"Two of them," assented Kortha dryly.
Guantra seemed startled, then nodded. "Two, yes. A lightning-blaster and a—no, I'll not tell you the other. That is my secret.... I see the lightning-blaster surprises you."
"Another myth," whispered Xax, looking up at Kortha.
"Myth?" puzzled Guantra, brows meeting over its hooked nose. "Oh. You mean the one concerning the weapons of the Great War. The rhyme that goes—
"They culled the lightnings from the sky,
"And summoned all who were to die—"
"A neat bit of doggerel, but let's talk of living men. Kortha, I know you for my enemy. If you were my friend, now—"
Guantra jerked suddenly, drawing back. His lean face looked tense, thoughtful. His thin lips drew down at the corners, and slowly curved into a smile. It was not a nice smile to see.