"Fool!" She was off the couch and pressing her voluptuous body against me, stroking my chest. "Fool! I have other plans—I am not defeated. I know many secrets; I have much power that you do not dream of. Michael Kane, you can share all this. I told you I have never known a man like you—brave, handsome, strong-willed. But you also have something else—some mysterious quality that makes you as different from the ordinary riffraff of Vashu as I am. Become my King, Michael Kane ..."

She was speaking softly, her hypnotic eyes staring into mine, and something seemed to be happening to my brain. I felt warm, euphoric. I began to think her proposal was attractive.

"Michael Kane—I love you!"

Somehow that statement saved me—though I will never know why. It jerked my mind back to sanity. Bound as I was, I shrugged her clinging hands away.

"I do not love you, Horguhl," I said firmly. "Neither could I feel anything but loathing for someone who has done what you have done. Now I realize how Shizala was so easily brought here—that hypnotic power of yours! Well, it will not get the better of me!"

She released me and when she spoke again her voice was low, vibrant. "Somehow I knew that.

Perhaps that is what attracts me to you—the fact that you can resist my power. Few others can—not even that primordial beast, the N'aal."

I took several steps backwards. I was still looking around for some means of escape. She seemed to realize this and looked up suddenly.

Her face was now a mask of hatred!

"Very well, Michael Kane—by refusing me you are accepting the fate I had planned for you. Guards!"

The huge Argzoon warriors entered.

"Take him! Send messengers to all the Argzoon who have returned. There are not many as yet—but tell them all to come. Tell them they are going to witness a sacrifice to Raharumara!"

With that, I was led away.

I spent a short time with my guards when they paused in a chamber near the exit of the castle. Then they led me out through the smoky, evilsmelling streets of the Black City. Behind us, in twos and threes at first, then in increasing numbers, there began to follow a procession of Argzoon. One blue warrior who strode beside my guards, keeping pace with me, darted me a strange glance which I could not interpret. The warrior did not wear armor—I assumed he had lost it during the flight back to the Black City—and he had the signs of a recent wound on his breast. Then we were passing from the city and I forgot about him.