But they were not in darkness. A pale, cool glow came from the walls and roof and the smooth floor on which they stood. The tunnel wound upward at a steep slant, and the silence made Raft feel the blood beating in his ears.
'Come on,' he said, shouldering the machine.
It was not long, that passage in the cliff. It made a shortcut through the rock to the cavern of the Flame. But, before them there was another cavern.
Ah oval door barred their path. Janissa opened it easily, bur she did not pass through the portal. Raft saw her slender figure poise, hesitate, and shrink back. He brushed past Craddock.
'What is it?' he asked.
Janissa did not answer.
'The First Race,' Craddock said, in a breathless voice. 'The First Race.'
It was the cavern Raft had seen when he had first entered Paititi. Leprous violet light bathed the dripping stalactites and crept over the thrusting stalagmites that made an upthrust forest. High overhead, slanting down at a dizzying angle, was the gravity-defying, nearly transparent tube of the unseen road, made visible now only because of the hordes of creatures that crawled upon it, as though striving to break through the glassy barrier.
The monsters!
Raft had seen them before, but only dimly. Now he felt his throat go dry and close with loathing.
Bat-winged and beast-snouted, degenerate and horrible, the things swarmed in the violet light there in the great cave. They were the descendants of what had once been the First Race, the mighty civilization that had reared the proud castles of Paititi.
And fallen now—fallen into the primal pit of horror.
The baleful radiations that had once raged through Paititi when the Flame waned long ago and had changed them to demons. Few were alike. Some had immense bat-wings, while others flopped and dragged their fat, shining bulks among the stalagmites. And some were dwarfed. Some were giants. Some had the clawed feet of giant birds.
Straight as a lance across that arena of terror ran the path they had been following, a faint white glow that ended at the farther wall, before an oval panel that was obviously a door.
'Through—there?' Craddock said.
Raft looked at Janissa. She was white-faced, but she caught her breath and stepped out of the tunnel's protection, into the violet light of the cavern.
'We'll run for it,' Raft said. 'If we can reach that other door, we'll be all right.'
They ran, panic spurring their heels. The sight of the nightmare horde flapping and crawling and leaping all about them was horrible. And the thought of those black talons actually touching them—it was not a good thought.
A stir went through the monsters, a ripple of interest. As Raft ran, he saw from the corners of his eyes that shapes were converging upon them. But the three were more than halfway across the cavern now, and there was more than an even chance mat they could reach their goal before the monsters rallied to investigate.
Raft reckoned without the winged beings. Something struck him heavily from behind, sending him to his knees. He struggled to regain his feet. Janissa, glancing back, saw what had happened, and with a little cry, ran back to help him.
A nightmare shape, scaled and horned like a medieval demon, sprang at her—caught her in its grip.
Cursing, Raft plunged forward, heedless of the creature on his back. His fist smashed out into the face of the monster. It was driven back, screaming in a thin, high-pitched wail of agony.
That was the signal. From all around the devils of Paititi swooped and lumbered and dragged themselves toward the intruders. Raft went down under the weight of foul-smelling bodies. He was blind with nausea and hatred and revulsion. His fists hammered a pulpy flesh, and the shrieking grew to a shrill crescendo.
That sickening odor almost choked him. The touch of the monsters against his skin was loathsome. They felt like fungoid things, like dead creatures raised to a ghastly similitude of life. And the faces were ghoulish demons.
Craddock came back to use as a spear a fallen stalactite he had picked up. Raft was relieved of his burden for a moment. He staggered up, looking for Janissa.
He saw her, in the midst of a group of monsters.
He had enough reasoning power left to find another fallen spike of stone before going to her rescue. The creatures, interbred and degenerate, were physically weak, but they had the advantage of numbers, and Raft realized that the sheer weight of those deformed bodies could press him down and smother him. His lips lifted in a snarl, he charged forward, stabbing with his improvised spear.
He felt flesh tear. He heard the squealing redouble in volume. The monsters came at him like a wave. They had the feeble malevolence of rats. As he went down on his back he tried desperately to turn, to shield the precious burden he carried—and failed.
He heard the machine's crash as it was crushed against the rock beneath him.
There was only hopelessness then, and blind hatred, and a feeling that he was drowning in floods of evil, living flesh. But he fought on. The remnants of the machine were ripped from his back. He lashed about him savagely with the sharp stalactite, till at last he had cleared a little space free of the monsters.
As he stood there, panting and half-naked, he saw that they had fought their way almost to the door. But at his feet coils and broken crystal and twisted metal told of the wreck of the machine that could save Paftiti.
One thing remained whole—a foot-long cylinder of burnished alloy. It was the safety fuse that controlled the device's stimulating power. Raft snatched it up and thrust the tube into his belt.
'Brian,' Craddock called. 'Here!'
Raft lifted his spear and rushed. The monsters had learned the menace of that
'The door,' Raft said. 'Open it, Janissa.'
He cut a red path for her. The worst danger was the flying monsters. More than once Raft swung up his weapon in time to rip the flesh of a swooping demon that came rushing down at him from the violet depths above. He fought on, grimly silent, conscious only of those devil-masks, distorted and horrible, glaring at him, spouting crimson as he struck, screaming in thin, wailing agony.
'Brian!' Janissa shrilled. 'The door!'
He saw with surprise that it lay open. Craddock, white hair flying, broke through with a stumbling rush. Together the two charged that waiting portal.
They reeled through it. Raft whirled, thrust out at a pressing horde of monsters, as Janissa's hand swept out.
The oval door closed—barring the cavern.
The high screaming gave place to silence.
'They smashed the machine,' Raft said hopelessly.
CHAPTER XIV.
RAFT CHOOSES
CRADDOCK WAS PANTING with excitement. His eyes were tired looking and weary.
'You saved the safety fuse,' he said. 'Maybe that's enough. If Parror's machine is a duplicate of the one we built, maybe we have a chance, even yet.'
'It has to be, unless the man's a complete fool,' Raft said. 'But if we can stop him before he wakens the Flame, that'd be even better.' He caught himself and laughed. 'Parror's probably behind us, not ahead of us. If he passed through that cavern, they'd have broken his gadget too.'
'Unless he knew another route,' Janissa put in somberly. She tried to adjust her tattered garments, with fastidious, feline delicacy. Raft thought, watching her, even now she's half cat.
