"Try to poke it at something," Glaudot said.
They could not. Robin sighed. They put it down slowly, quietly. It would take more than the two of them. It would take them and two or three more men to do the job.
"We wait," Glaudot said bleakly.
Robin stared up in frustration at the smoke hole, through which smoke from the Cyclops's fire poured out into the gathering night. It was hopelessly over their head, although help could reach them through it from the outside. But how could they possibly expect help to come...?
"We wait," Glaudot said again, hopelessly.
"For breakfast," Robin said.
Glaudot broke suddenly. "I don't want to die!" he cried. "I don't want to die ..."
The feeblest of Crimson's three suns came over the horizon, lighting the landscape with the illumination of three or four full moons on Earth.
"I told you I smelled smoke!" Charlie cried, pointing triumphantly at the thin tendril of smoke that rose through the cooling air against the weak sunlight.