Nelson leaped. He smothered the cry and crushed Li Kin's slight body with his own weight until he stopped struggling. Then he lifted the thought-crown again in his teeth and offered it. Staring wildly, Li Kin took the thing in shaking hands and put it on.
"Li, it is I — Eric Nelson!" he thought swiftly.
"Nelson?" came Li Kin's numb thought. His eyes dilated in horror. "It is a nightmare. I am dreaming."
Nelson's thoughts raced, telling the other what happened. Li Kin shook his head.
"Sorcery. The power of those who were before man." Then, heavily, "We did evil, Eric Nelson, to come to L'Lan with our weapons. For that evil we shall die."
"Very probably," Nelson answered, "but just now I need your hands to release Barin, so that I can get my own hands back. Will you help?"
Li Kin nodded. It was a dazed, queer sort of nod. Nelson knew what Li Kin was thinking. He was thinking that the heavy sword of Fate was weighing upon the woven strand of his years and would presently cut it through and that, in the woven strand, there were few bright strands, very few among the many that were strained and drab.
"Of course," nodded Li Kin. "I will help." He fumbled for his spectacles, put them on and rose, pulling his jacket straight. Then he went out with the two wolves trotting like two silent shadows at his heels.
The corridors were empty, the moonlight falling through the vaulted glass in a strange dusky light such as is seen only in dreams.
Li Kin's thought informed them, "The others hold council."