“My God,” whispered Maya, “this is the end of me!”
But the sentinel said quietly:
“Just come here, child.”
“What!” cried Maya. “You saw me?”
“All the time, child. You bit a hole through the wall, then you crept along—crept along—tucking yourself very neatly into the dark places—until you reached the spot where you’re standing. Then you saw me, and you lost heart. Am I right?”
“Yes,” said Maya, “quite right.” Her whole body shook with terror. The sentinel, then, had seen her the entire time. She remembered having heard how keen were the senses of these clever freebooters.
“What are you doing here?” he asked good-humoredly.
Maya still thought he looked sad. His mind seemed to be far away and not to concern itself with what was of such moment to her.
“I’d like to get out,” she answered. “And I’m not afraid. I was just startled. You looked so strong and handsome, and your armor shone so. Now I’ll fight you.”
The sentinel, slightly astonished, leaned forward, and looked at Maya and smiled. It was not an ugly smile, and Maya experienced an entirely new feeling: the young warrior’s smile seemed to exercise a mysterious power over her heart.