The Iron Breed by Andre Norton Page A

his own people had such ships. That was how she and Bron had come to the world where the Big Ones had caught them. There might be different kinds of sky ships. In the wall pictures there was no hint of Big Ones.
    All he was certain of at that moment was that this was a place which threatened them. The sooner they were out of it and back in the open country they knew, the better.
    “I'm tired,” Maba said suddenly. “And I can't go fast any more, Jony. I'm hungry—”
    “I'm hungry, too!” Geogee reinforced that promptly. “I want to get out of here, Jony. We keep going up and up but we don't see outside.”
    He was right. The slope they followed kept them going up and up, but Jony had no way of measuring how far down the tube descent had taken them in the first place.
    “We'll get out—soon—” he tried to make his assurance sound convincing. The trouble was he had no idea whether he spoke the truth or not. And he was hungry and thirsty too. He wanted to run, but both children were lagging, and he knew that he could do no more than keep them encouraged and moving forward, even though their pace slowed.
    “I'm tired,” Maba repeated again with more emphasis. “I don't think I can keep on walking up and up, Jony.”
    “Sure you can,” he rallied her. “You're so clever about doors, Maba. We'll need your help if we find another one up ahead.”
    She continued to look doubtful, and she was climbing very slowly indeed. Geogee bettered her, was farther ahead, so that Jony had to call him back. What worried the older boy was that the strange light filling these under-surface passages was distinctly fading the farther they climbed. Jony had no wish to lose contact with either child in that complete dark which he had met before.
    “Listen,” Jony spoke sharply. “You, Maba, take hold of this!”
    He held out the half-splintered shaft, thinking when they at last got out of here he would need to make another. As the girl closed her hands on the butt end, Jony called ahead:
    “Geogee, wait right where you are.” When they caught up to the impatient boy, Jony pulled him into line with his twin. “Take hold—right here, and don't either of you let go. I want to know where you are in the dark.”
    He held the crook part in his own hands as he walked in the lead. This last part of the climb was at an even greater angle, and Jony made it slowly, fearing that either twin might lose its link. At last before him was an opening (without any of those sliding panels, Jony was thankful to see), and they came out onto a level space. Here was a freshness of air, yet walls arose about them. It was dark enough so that Jony moved very slowly.
    Finally he caught sight of small, sharp sparks of light ahead. Whether those meant more danger or not he could not tell. But he had to have some guide to center on, and those were the only such he could find. Linked by their hold on Jony's staff, the three came at last to a place the older had been before, in that great heap which was the heart of the forbidden place. There on its dais, glittering with living fire, was the block of stone which held the sleeper.
    Those dots of color had been bright in the daylight, but in the dark they were even more alive, some sparkling, some burning with a steady glow. Jony wanted no part of this place, but at least he now knew where they were. “What's that?” Geogee asked.
    “I don't know,” Jony answered shortly. “But I do know where we are now. And we can get out of here easily—Come on!”
    They skirted the stepped blocks which supported the container of the sleeper, and continued on down the dark way, moving around the stone woman. In this manner they found again the river of stone which would lead them out of this danger zone.
    Danger zone it was. Jony's skin prickled with more than just the chill of the night air. He felt as if an emanation rayed out from all these piled blocks, alerting his warning sense, although he received nothing