Lankar of Callisto

Before very long the armada arrived above a section of the mountains in which it was now the opinion of Dr. Abziz we could expect to find this mountain. Before voyaging on to explore unknown further fastnesses of the hemisphere, the Soraban geographer strongly urged Zantor and his captains to deploy their sky-ships for the careful exploration of this region in particular. Zantor obligingly did so, and the Xaxar, the Zarkoon and the Avenger, dividing this part of the world into three equal divisions, each comprising about sixteen hundred square korads, t began their search.

So immense was this tract of land that, had it been necessary to comb so much of the country by foot or even on thaptor-back, it would have taken us many months, if not indeed years. Fortunately, however, the ships of the Sky Navy, cruising at an average height of several thousand feet, could search many hundreds of square miles within the span of a single day, especially with the use of optical instruments akin to binoculars, with which the Soraban savants had equipped the expedition. Higher than this the ships could not safely ascend, or at least could not cruise for any extended length of time, because the atmosphere grew thin and painfully cold at such an altitude.

For three days we searched the terrain from the air. We saw hundreds of mountain peaks, but only a few whose peaks were crowned with a triple-spired peak, and of these, not one rose in the vicinity of a curving river.

The region Zantor had selected to be covered by the Xaxar was the central of the three divisions. While we cruised above this middle region, the Avenger explored the country to the south and the Zarkoon sailed the wintry skies of the north. It had been prearranged that, should either of the three vessels chance to come upon such a mountain in conjunction with such a river, the ship was to mark the location upon her charts and fly to a certain rendezvous point to await the arrival of her sister-ships. All three ships were instructed to converge at this central point by a certain designated hour on the fifth day. And should any ship actually discover Kuur during its search period, Zantor’s orders sternly forbid any attack or the landing of an invasion force on the part of one ship alone.

“When we stand before the Gates of Kuur,” that grim and mighty warrior had vowed, “we shall stand together, to do and die for our friends in one combined legion.”

It was about the hour of noon on the third day of our search when a sharp cry rang out from an officer stationed on the rear observation belvedere at the poop.

This little balustraded balcony thrust from the rear of the ship’s hull beside the great, rigid rudderlike van by which the Xaxar was steered. The ribbed air-surface, which closely resembled a Chinese paper fan, was designed to thrust against the air-currents and thus divert the forward path of the mighty galleon of the clouds.

I was stationed, as it chanced, on the rear deck atop the poop or sterncastle of the ship, searching the landscape to the ship’s rear with an optical instrument. When this excited cry rang out wildly, galvanizing us into action, I jumped, narrowly missed dropping the instrument overboard, and swore at my nervous clumsiness. And the next instant found me clattering down the winding, narrow stair within the sterncastle at the heels of several others, among whom were Ylana, the jungle maid, and an officer named Harkon of Tharkol.

The man who had cried out was one of the Shondakorians whose name, unfortunately, I have since forgotten, although I think it was something like Kolar or Volar. He turned eager eyes upon us as we burst out of the inner gallery to crowd the small balcony at whose rail he stood.

“Look!” he commanded, pointing below with a trembling finger.

And there, a korad or two to the west of our position, a mountain somewhat taller and more prominent than its neighbors thrust above a great valley veiled in gray patches of mist.

A mountain whose crest was cloven into a triple crown!

Even as we stared down, eyes watering in the wind, our hearts in our mouths, breathless and tingling with excitement, the winds tore a rent through the rapidly thickening mists which covered the valley, and through those rents we perceived the glint of daylight flashing from the dark, smooth waters of a nameless river which coiled and curved like the sinuous body of a mythical dragon.