The huge pterosaur continued writing. “I can see that you do not believe me,” he wrote.
“This is not to be wondered at, since you yourself are soulless. Though I cannot understand how a beast like you, without a soul, can be as intelligent as you seem to be. Come to our temple, and I will show you souls.”
So saying, Boomalayla, accompanied by Queekle Mukki, the serpent, led Cabot and his two companions out of the buildings and through the streets of the city to another edifice, which they entered.
What a travesty on the lost religion of Cupia!
Within the temple there moved about a score or more of assorted beasts—pterodactyls, reptiles, huge insects, furry creatures, and so forth—bearing absolutely no resemblance to each other except the fact that each and every one of them wore a long robe emblazoned with a crimson triangle and swastika, emblem of the true religion of Poros.
Among them was one enormous slate-colored pterosaur, almost the exact counterpart of Boomalayla, the king, who introduced this beast to his guests by means of the following note: “This is the chief priest of the true religion. She is my mate. But come, let me show you some souls.”
The chief priest then led the party into an adjoining room, the walls of which were lined with tiny cages, most of which contained pairs of moths.
The dragon king explained as follows: “When a Whoomang dies, his body is brought to the temple and is watched day and night by a priest, net in hand, to catch the soul when it emerges.”
What it had to do with _souls_ Cabot couldn’t see for the life of him. Neither could Quivven nor Doggo.
Having made a complete tour of inspection the party then returned to the palace, where they discussed the glories of Vairkingi and Cupia with the king and Queekle Mukki, and then dined on cereal cakes and a flesh resembling fish.
“Be not afraid to eat this,” Boomalayla urged. “It is fresh flesh. We breed these water reptiles especially for food.”
After the meal the three travelers were assigned rooms in the palace.
At Cabot’s request, tapestries were brought from the plane, and the party severally retired for the night.
The next morning they were up early, and assembled in Cabot’s room. The night had proved uneventful, but Doggo wrote in great excitement that he had talked with the green guards, who had refused to disclose the whereabouts of the plane, and had said that this was the king’s order.