Red Nails
of mongrel Stygians, mixed with another race that wandered into Stygia
from the east some centuries ago and were absorbed by them. They're
called Tlazitlans. I'm willing to bet it wasn't they who built this
city, though."
Techotl's fear did not seem to diminish as they drew away from the
chamber where the dead men lay. He kept twisting his head on his
shoulder to listen for sounds of pursuit, and stared with burning
intensity into every doorway they passed.
Valeria shivered in spite of herself. She feared no man. But the weird
floor beneath her feet, the uncanny jewels over her head, dividing the
lurking shadows among them, the stealth and terror of their guide,
impressed her with a nameless apprehension, a sensation of lurking,
inhuman peril.
"They may be between us and Tecuhltli!" he whispered once. "We must
beware lest they be lying in wait!"
"Why don't we get out of this infernal palace, and take to the streets?"
demanded Valeria.
"There are no streets in Xuchotl," he answered. "No squares nor open
courts. The whole city is built like one giant palace under one great
roof. The nearest approach to a street is the Great Hall which traverses
the city from the north gate to the south gate. The only doors opening
into the outer world are the city gates, through which no living man has
passed for fifty years."
"How long have you dwelt here?" asked Conan.
"I was born in the castle of Tecuhltli thirty-five years ago. I have
never set foot outside the city. For the love of the gods, let us go
silently! These halls may be full of lurking devils. Olmec shall tell
you all when we reach Tecuhltli."
So in silence they glided on with the green fire-stones blinking
overhead and the flaming floors smoldering under their feet, and it
seemed to Valeria as if they fled through hell, guided by a dark-faced,
lank-haired goblin.
Yet it was Conan who halted them as they were crossing an unusually wide
chamber. His wilderness-bred ears were keener even than the ears of
Techotl, whetted though these were by a lifetime of warfare in those
silent corridors.
"You think some of your enemies may be ahead of us, lying in ambush?"
"They prowl through these rooms at all hours," answered Techotl, "as do
we. The halls and chambers between Tecuhltli and Xotalanc are a disputed
region, owned by no man. We call it the Halls of Silence. Why do you
ask?"
"Because men are in the chambers ahead of us," answered Conan. "I heard
steel clink against stone."
Again a shaking seized Techotl, and he clenched his teeth to keep them
from chattering.
"Perhaps they are your friends," suggested Valeria.
"We dare not chance it," he panted, and moved with frenzied activity. He
turned aside and glided through a doorway on the left which led into a
chamber from which an ivory staircase wound down into darkness.
"This leads to an unlighted corridor below us!" he hissed, great beads
of perspiration standing out on his brow. "They may be lurking there,
too. It may all be a trick to draw us into it. But we must take the
chance that they have laid their ambush in the rooms above. Come
swiftly, now!"
* * * * *
Softly as phantoms they descended the stair and came to the mouth of a
corridor black as night. They crouched there for a moment, listening,
and then melted into it. As they moved along, Valeria's flesh crawled
between her shoulders in momentary expectation of a sword-thrust in the
dark. But for Conan's iron fingers gripping her arm she had no physical
cognizance of her companions. Neither made as much noise as a cat would
have made. The darkness was absolute. One hand, outstretched, touched a
wall, and occasionally she felt a door under her fingers. The hallway
seemed interminable.
Suddenly they were galvanized by a sound behind them. Valeria's flesh
crawled anew, for she recognized it as the soft opening of a door. Men
had come into the corridor behind them. Even with the thought she
stumbled over something that felt like a human skull. It rolled across
the floor with an appalling clatter.
"Run!" yelped Techotl, a note of hysteria in his voice, and was away
down the corridor like a flying ghost.
Again Valeria felt Conan's hand bearing her up and sweeping her along as
they raced after their guide. Conan could see in the dark no better than
she, but he possessed a sort of instinct that made his course unerring.
Without his support and guidance she would have fallen or stumbled
against the wall. Down the corridor they sped, while the swift patter of
flying feet drew closer and closer, and then suddenly Techotl panted:
"Here is the stair! After me, quick! Oh, quick!"
His hand came out of the dark and caught Valeria's wrist as she stumbled
blindly on the steps. She felt herself half dragged, half lifted up the
winding stair, while Conan released her and turned on the steps, his
ears and instincts telling him their foes were hard at their backs. _And
the sounds were not all those of human feet._
Something came writhing up the steps, something that slithered and
rustled and brought a chill in the air with it. Conan lashed down with
his great sword and felt the blade shear through something that might
have been flesh and bone, and cut deep into the stair beneath. Something
touched his foot that chilled like the touch of frost, and then the
darkness beneath him was disturbed by a frightful thrashing and lashing,
and a man cried out in agony.
The next moment Conan was racing up the winding staircase, and through a
door that stood open at the head.
Valeria and Techotl were already through, and Techotl slammed the door
and shot a bolt across it--the first Conan had seen since they left the
outer gate.
Then he turned and ran across the well-lighted chamber into which they
had come, and as they passed through the farther door, Conan glanced
back and saw the door groaning and straining under heavy pressure
violently applied from the other side.
Though Techotl did not abate either his speed or his caution, he seemed
more confident now. He had the air of a man who has come into familiar
territory, within call of friends.
But Conan renewed his terror by asking: "What was that thing that I
fought on the stair?"
"The men of Xotalanc," answered Techotl, without looking back. "I told
you the halls were full of them."
"This wasn't a man," grunted Conan. "It was something that crawled, and
it was as cold as ice to the touch. I think I cut it asunder. It fell
back on the men who were following us, and must have killed one of them
in its death throes."
Techotl's head jerked back, his face ashy again. Convulsively he
quickened his pace.
"It was the Crawler! A monster _they_ have brought out of the catacombs
to aid them! What it is, we do not know, but we have found our people
hideously slain by it. In Set's name, hasten! If they put it on our
trail, it will follow us to the very doors of Tecuhltli!"
"I doubt it," grunted Conan. "That was a shrewd cut I dealt it on the
stair."
"Hasten! Hasten!" groaned Techotl.
They ran through a series of green-lit chambers, traversed a broad hall,
and halted before a giant bronze door.
Techotl said: "This is Tecuhltli!"
_3. The People of the Feud_
Techotl smote on the bronze door with his clenched hand, and then turned
sidewise, so that he could watch back along the hall.
"Men have been smitten down before this door, when they thought they
were safe," he said.
"Why don't they open the door?" asked Conan.
"They are looking at us through the Eye," answered Techotl. "They are
puzzled at the sight of you." He lifted his voice and called: "Open the
door, Xecelan! It is I, Techotl, with friends from the great world
beyond the forest!--They will open," he assured his allies.
"They'd better do it in a hurry, then," said Conan grimly. "I hear
something crawling along the floor beyond the hall."
Techotl went ashy again and attacked the door with his fists, screaming:
"Open, you fools, open! The Crawler is at our heels!"
Even as he beat and shouted, the great bronze door swung noiselessly
back, revealing a heavy chain across the entrance, over which
spear-heads bristled and fierce countenances regarded them intently for
an instant. Then the chain was dropped and Techotl grasped the arms of
his friends in a nervous frenzy and fairly dragged them over the
threshold. A glance over his shoulder just as the door was closing
showed Conan the long dim vista of the hall, and dimly framed at the
other end an ophidian shape that writhed slowly and painfully into view,
flowing in a dull-hued length from a chamber door, its hideous
blood-stained head wagging drunkenly. Then the closing door shut off the
view.
Inside the square chamber into which they had come heavy bolts were
drawn across the door, and the chain locked into place. The door was
made to stand the battering of a siege. Four men stood on guard, of the
same lank-haired, dark-skinned breed as Techotl, with spears in their
hands and swords at their hips. In the wall near the door there was a
complicated contrivance of mirrors which Conan guessed was the Eye
Techotl had mentioned, so arranged that a narrow, crystal-paned slot in
the wall could be looked through from within without being discernible
from without. The four guardsmen stared at the strangers with wonder,
but asked no question, nor did Techotl vouchsafe any information. He
moved with easy confidence now, as if he had shed his cloak of
indecision and fear the instant he crossed the threshold.
"Come!" he urged his new-found friends, but Conan glanced toward the
door.
"What about those fellows who were following us? Won't they try to storm
that door?"
Techotl shook his head.
"They know they cannot break down the Door of the Eagle. They will flee
back to Xotalanc, with their crawling fiend. Come! I will take you to
the rulers of Tecuhltli."
* * * * *
One of the four guards opened the door opposite the one by which they
had entered, and they passed through into a hallway which, like most of
the rooms on that level, was lighted by both the slot-like skylights and
the clusters of winking fire-gems. But unlike the other rooms they had
traversed, this hall showed evidences of occupation. Velvet tapestries
adorned the glossy jade walls, rich rugs were on the crimson floors, and
the ivory seats, benches and divans were littered with satin cushions.
The hall ended in an ornate door, before which stood no guard. Without
ceremony Techotl thrust the door open and ushered his friends into a
broad chamber, where some thirty dark-skinned men and women lounging on
satin-covered couches sprang up with exclamations of amazement.
The men, all except one, were of the same type as Techotl, and the women
were equally dark and strange-eyed, though not unbeautiful in a weird
dark way. They wore sandals, golden breast-plates, and scanty silk
skirts supported by gem-crusted girdles, and their black manes, cut
square at their naked shoulders, were bound with silver circlets.
On a wide ivory seat on a jade dais sat a man and a woman who differed
subtly from the others. He was a giant, with an enormous sweep of breast
and the shoulders of a bull. Unlike the others, he was bearded, with a
thick, blue-black beard which fell almost to his broad girdle. He wore a
robe of purple silk which reflected changing sheens of color with his
every movement, and one wide sleeve, drawn back to his elbow, revealed a
forearm massive with corded muscles. The band which confined his
blue-black locks was set with glittering jewels.
The woman beside him sprang to her feet with a startled exclamation as
the strangers entered, and her eyes, passing over Conan, fixed