"Dwain! Steve! Where are you? Open to me swiftly!"
Duane's heart leaped. Beth! Amarro must have told her of this spot, and in the fogs above she was searching for him on a barren island.
He needed no second bidding. Eagerly he raced up the corridor, released the catch which opened the boulder door, stepped forth—and into sight of a company of armed Daans at whose head stood Grudo, and with whom was a silver woman who, even now, was lifting again her voice in perfect imitation of Beth's loved tones.
"Dwain! O Steve!"
Steve Duane choked, "Loala—you! It was a trick; a trap!"
Then he said nothing more. For at that moment something brutally hard smashed down upon his head with crushing force. The fog of Daan thickened to eddying darkness, and Stephen Duane pitched forward, senseless, into the waiting arms of his captors.
CHAPTER XVIII
The Offer of Loala
What Duane recalled of the ensuing hours was a maelstrom of confusion, a phantasmagoria composed of incoherent snatches, peopled with creatures who moved before his vision fleetingly, lingered for a moment, then faded.