For him there who plots with Lugur"-- she pointed at Marakinoff, and I saw Yolara start--"they have no need.

Into his heart the Silent Ones have looked; and Lugur and you may keep him, Yolara!" There was honeyed venom in the last words.
Yolara was herself now; only the edge of shrillness on her voice revealed her wrath as she answered.
"And whence have the Silent Ones gained power to command, _choya_ ?" This last, I knew, was a very vulgar word; I had heard Rador use it in a moment of anger to one of the serving maids, and it meant, approximately, "kitchen girl," "scullion." Beneath the insult and the acid disdain, the blood rushed up under Lakla's ambered ivory skin.
"Yolara"-- her voice was low--"of no use is it to question me.

I am but the messenger of the Silent Ones.

And one thing only am I bidden to ask you--do you deliver to me the three strangers ?" Lugur was on his feet; eagerness, sardonic delight, sinister anticipation thrilling from him--and my same glance showed Marakinoff, crouched, biting his finger-nails, glaring at the Golden Girl.
"No!" Yolara spat the word.

"No! Now by Thanaroa and by the Shining One, no!" Her eyes blazed, her nostrils were wide, in her fair throat a little pulse beat angrily.