"All of you are weary," Jaltor said finally. "I suggest slaves show you to the quarters I have set aside for those of you who wish to remain as my guests."
His eyes went to the three cave people questioningly. There was a moment of weighted silence ... and into it Tharn said:
"Dylara, Trakor and I are far from the caves of our people. I, for one, am anxious to start back. Perhaps we will sleep until tomorrow's sun—then begin our journey."
As he finished speaking, his eyes came to rest upon the cave girl.
A breathless hush seemed to settle over the room. The moment had come—and Tharn had so phrased his words that the daughter of Majok now held the key to the hopes of two men ... and the choice was hers, without pressure from either of those two.
Jotan's head came up and his eyes met the brown, sun-flecked gaze of the cave girl. A deep, chest-swelling breath filled his lungs....
"I am not tired," Dylara said calmly. "I would like to start for your caves at once, Tharn."
And with those words, and the lifting of her hand as she placed it on the cave lord's bronzed forearm, Dylara made her choice.
Pain—the awful pain of unrequited love—rose like flames in Jotan's heart. Rose until they shook him with agony ... swelled ... and broke to settle back under the man's iron control.