Elak of Atlantis Read Online Free PDF Page B

Slowly!”
    Elak, with some effort, got to his feet, careful to make no hasty movement. His rapier, he saw with regret, was gone. Also his legs were bound together by a thong about a foot long.
    The Pikht urged him toward the crevice in the rock. It narrowed until his broad shoulders scraped the sides, then widened as he led down. Elak debated the advantage of trying to take his captor unaware, but, bound and unarmed as he was, he knew only death would result. Presently he felt stairs beneath his feet, invisible in the shrouding darkness.
    “’Ware!” It was the Pikht’s harsh voice. “Not too fast!”
    Obediently Elak slackened his pace. Before him a slit of light widened, and he looked down a corridor cut out of solid rock.
    Perhaps two hundred feet long it was, lit by bronze lamps that stood in niches in the wall. Iron doors, with barred windows set in them, broke the monotony of gray rock on one side; the other side was blank, roughly chiseled stone. Elak paused.
    The Pikht’s blade gouged skin from his captive’s back. Glancing around, Elak saw that behind the dark-skinned dwarf were two other men, replicas of his captor, hairless and smooth-skinned and dark. They carried long blades, longer than themselves.
    Elak let himself be prodded along the passage. As he passed the barred doors he realized that they guarded captives, Atlanteans all, some clad in leather or armor, others in furry skins. In the silent faces that watched him Elak saw fear—fear so great that none spoke aloud. In whispers men cursed the Pikhts, and the dwarfs smiled mockingly, their eyes coldly alight with malicious amusement.
    At a door near the end of thetunnel the Pikht halted. He gestured, and one of his companions lifted a great metal bar that locked the panel. The iron door was swung open, and Elak was thrust across the threshold.
    Metal clanged; the bar was thrust into its socket. The cell, cut from solid rock, held nothing; but in the farther wall was another door—an iron slab whose smooth surface was featureless and unbroken.
    Elak heard the Pikhts go padding along the passage. And, very slowly, the iron slab began to swing outward.
    A man crept into the cell. His emaciated body was clad in a tattered jerkin, and tangled yellow hair hung about a bearded, pain-ravaged face. His eyes were vacuous, filmed with a blue glaze. Spittle drooled from the slack mouth. Behind him the door swung silently shut as Elak sprang forward. He had only a flashing glimpse of a gray corridor—no more.
    The man huddled in a corner, shuddering and moaning. Elak looked down at him with pity.
    “Who are you?” he asked. “Can you understand me?”
    “Yes… yes, I can understand. The Shadow took Halfgar, my son. The Shadow on the pool…”
    The bearded face was contorted with grief and horror. Elak cast a swift glance at the iron door, cryptically shut. What talk was this of—a Shadow?
    The blue stare focused on Elak. “Elf the warlock gave me to the Pikhts, and my son Halfgar went with me because he fought at my side against Elf’s men. They—”
    Elak leaned forward tensely. “Elf? These dwarfs—Pikhts—know him?”
    “Yes; they serve him. They give him magic in return for strong men whom they sacrifice to their god. For ages they’ve dwelt on Crenos Isle worshiping—” The man’s voice dropped to a thin reedy whisper, and madness crept into his eyes. “The Shadow took my son. The door opened, and I went out into the passage where the pool was. I saw water below me, and a Shadow lying upon it. The Shadow leaped up at me, and as I drew back it touched my brow… it was not hungry then. It had just fed on Halfgar… it took him from my side as I slept… there are doors which are not to be opened.…”
    The whisperstopped. The man’s eyes widened. He sprang to his feet, clawing at his breast with ripping fingernails, tearing away skin and flesh in long ribbons. He screamed, a frightful, agonized shriek that resounded through the