Then Neela Deo stood back, put up his trunk and uttered a long, strong blast. They were ringing tones—mounting clarion tones, with tremendous volume at the top. They were the King's proclamation of victory.
The mahouts answered him in High Himalayan voices—full of unleashed devotion. The caravan made announcement of that allegiance the heart of an elephant gives—sometimes. But the wild herd broke away and ran shrieking up into the Vindha Hills.
Coming down from Mitha Baba's neck between Skag's hands, the Gul Moti smiled into his anguished eyes.
"Carlin! Are you—safe?" he asked.
"Safe—now!" she answered.
The tone of that low "now" startled him.
"Where have you been?" he breathed.
"Far—" she said, "very far!"
"But where?" he questioned.
"It was not in our world, Skag," she said. "It was—dark!"