MIRRORS OF MIRAGE WHEN Vekyra was gone, Price felt disturbed and a little guilty thinking of Aysa. But the golden woman had certainly saved his life, he reflected. A few kisses were not too much to pay. He might have found other excuses for his moment of surrender to the golden beauty. Her good offices appeared the only possible means of Aysa’s rescue—and a very doubtful means, Vekyra hating the unfortunate girl as she evidently did. Vekyra’s displeasure would mean a speedy and probably permanent return to the dungeons of Malikar. But, honest with himself, Price admitted that no such consideration had occurred to him during that flaming moment in Vekyra’s arms. Next morning, when Price had breakfasted, he went for a stroll about the palace, escorted by four of his female retinue, who wore their golden jambiyahs. As he strode ahead of them through magnificent gardens and among gold and marble colonnades, his eye was alert for some opportunity to escape.
