"The others."
She said, "It's useless. The paralysis—"
Stuart scowled and stepped across the threshold into the pit. Uneasiness crawled along his spine as he did so. The Aesir might be watching from above, or—or—
There was nothing. Only dead silence, and the uneven breathing of the girl as she stood in the doorway watching. Stuart stopped before the leather-clad Earthman and tested a burly arm. The man stood frozen, his flesh cold and hard as stone, his eyes staring glassily. He was not even breathing.
So with the others. Stuart grimaced and shrugged. He turned back toward the girl, and felt a pulse of relief as he stepped into the shining chamber. He might be no safer here, but at least he wasn't so conscious of inhuman eyes that might be watching from above. Not that solid stone might be any barrier to the Aesir's probing gaze....
The girl touched the mechanism; the door slid silently shut. "It's no use," she said. "The paralysis holds all the others. Only I could battle it—a little. And that was because—"
"Save it," Stuart said. He turned toward the door by which he had entered, but an urgent hand gripped his wrist.
"Let me talk," the quiet voice said. "We're as safe here as anywhere. And there may be a way—now that I can think clearly again."
"A way out? A safe way?"
There was a haunted look in her dark eyes. "I don't know. I've lived here for a long time. The others—" she pointed toward the door of the pit. "The sacrifices were brought to Asgard only yesterday. But I've been here many moons. The Aesir kept me alive for a bit, to amuse them. Then they tired, and I was thrown in with the others. But I learned a little. I—I—no one can dwell here in the Aesir stronghold without—changing a little. That's why the paralysis didn't hold me as long as it holds the others."