Then his thoughts flew to Yat, the city of the Whoomangs, with its strange assortment of creatures, including Boomalayla, the winged dragon, and Queekle Mukki, the serpent. Cabot shed a tear for Doggo and little golden furred Quivven, and then came down to the present with a jerk.
He was back in Cupia, clean, clothed, shaved, equipped, fed, and rested. It was now up to him to rescue the Princess Lilla from her traitor cousin. First he must find firearms. But of these the castle had been looted; for not a trace of a rifle, an automatic, or even a single cartridge could he find, though he searched high and low. So reluctantly he strapped on merely his Vairking sword and knife, and ran down the path to the beach.
In the boat once more, he paddled rapidly toward the shore. At the landing place, sitting on one of the boats was a Cupian, but as this man seemed to be unarmed, Cabot approached him without fear. As he came within antennae-shot the man sang out: “Welcome back to Cupia, Myles Cabot, defender of the faith!”
Myles shaded his eyes from the silver glare of the sky. “Nan-nan!” he exclaimed; for the Cupian before him was none other than the young cleric of the lost religion who had helped rebuild his radio head-set in the Caves of Kar during the Second War of Liberation.
As the boat grated on the beach the earth-man leaped out, and the two friends were soon warmly patting each other’s cheek.
These greetings over, Cabot asked: “What good fortune brings you here?”
He found it easy to slip back again into the language of this continent.
“The Holy Leader detailed two of us,” Nan-nan replied, “to watch Luno Castle, for you know he must be kept informed of everything, as he waits within his caves for the promised day. Night before last my colleague saw lights for a night, so this morning I decided to reconnoiter.”
“Is Owva still Holy Leader?” Myles asked politely.
“Yes,” the cleric replied. “The grand old man still lives.”