Dalgard's less sensitive nostrils picked up a new scent, the
not-to-be-missed fetor of damp underground ways where water stood.
The merman edged around a barred gate as Dalgard sniffed again. The
smell of damp was crossed by other and even less appetizing odors, but
he did not catch the stench of the snake-devils. And, relying on
Sssuri's judgment, he followed the merman into the dark.

Once again patches of violet light glimmered over their heads as the
passage narrowed and sloped downward. Dalgard tried to remember the
general geography of the section which was above them now. He had
assumed that this way with its dank chill must give on the river. But
when they had pattered on for a long distance, he knew that either
they had passed beneath the stream or that he was totally lost as to
direction.

As their eyes adjusted to the gloom of the passage the violet light
grew stronger. So Dalgard saw clearly when Sssuri whirled and faced
back along the way they had come, his body in a half crouch, his knife
ready in his hand.

Dalgard, his bow useless in the damp, drew his own sword-knife. But,
though his mind probed and he listened, he could sense or hear nothing
on their trail.




8

AIRLIFT