They looked down at Trevor, curious, speculative, hostile, their otherwise undistinguished human faces made strangely evil and other-worldly by the winking stones.
"You come with us to the city," one of them said curtly to Trevor. "That woman goes with the other slaves."
Trevor glared up at him. "Why me, to the city?"
The Korin raised his riding whip threateningly. "Do as you're ordered! Mount!"
Trevor saw that a slave had brought a saddled beast to him and was holding it, not looking either at him or the Korins.
"All right," he said. "I'll go with you."
He mounted and sat waiting, his eyes bright with the hatred that burned in him, bright as blown coals. They formed a circle around him and the leader gave a word. They galloped off toward the distant city.
Trevor must have dozed as he rode, for suddenly it was sunset, and they were approaching the city.
Seeing it as he had before, far off and with nothing to measure it against but the overtopping titan peaks, it had seemed no more than a city built of rock. Now he was close to it. Black shadows lay on it, and on the valley, but half way up the opposite mountain wall the light still blazed, reflected downward on the shallow sky, so that everything seemed to float in some curious dimension between night and day, Trevor stared, shut his eyes, and stared again.
The size was wrong.