"Hum, our little playmate again." Jim rubbed his half-blinded eyes. "Clever devil, that Bhruulo. He knows that no man could escape through that. He was so sure of it that he didn't even remove my electro-pistol from me."
As the pain passed from his eyes, he removed his pistol and felt the comfortable weight of it in his hand; but he thrust it back into his belt again, knowing it was useless against the Dim-Ing. Then an idea struck him like a thunderbolt.
"Kaarji, we may walk from this room yet! I have one weapon that Bhruulo hasn't counted on, and that is—the Dim-Ing's hatred of Bhruulo!"
Hurrying to the door again, he opened it infinitesimally. And he leaped back to the furthermost confines of the room as the Dim-Ing's thought-emanations came flooding inside, in a gentle greenish haze.
Jim centered all of his mind, now, on the one all-important thought. "Bhruulo! I shall kill him! He thinks he will keep me here and feed my mind to the Dim-Ing—but somehow I'll escape from here and kill Bhruulo. I swear it!" He strove to arouse an overwhelming hatred in his mind for the ages-old little Martian.
The Dim-Ing's power surged anew.
He felt the alien entity's mental fingers grab hold of his mind again. He stifled the rising exultance and reiterated his resolution to kill Bhruulo. Now he noticed that the Dim-Ing's mental presence was expanding through the very marble walls themselves. As never before, he began to appreciate the potential power of the thing. But with an effort he repeated his oath to kill Bhruulo; it became now not so much an oath as a promise, for he knew the Dim-Ing had tightly grasped his mind and was listening.
It was easy. So ridiculously easy that Jim should have been suspicious, but was not.
"If you mean it," the Dim-Ing spoke to Jim's mind at last. "If I thought you really would—"
"I mean it!" Jim flashed the thought fervently. "Let me out of here and I will rid you of Bhruulo, once and for all!"