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Updated: June 5, 2025
The frog-men reached down, swung each a dead dwarf in his arms, and filed, booming triumphantly away. And then I remembered the cone of the Keth which had slipped from Yolara's hand; knew it had been that for which her wild eyes searched. But look as closely as we might, search in every nook and corner as we did, we could not find it.
While the frog-men, those late levies from the farthest forests, were clearing bridge and ledge of cavern of the litter of the dead, we listened to a leader of the ladala. They had risen, even as the messenger had promised Rador. Fierce had been the struggle in the gardened city by the silver waters with those Lugur and Yolara had left behind to garrison it.
Glancing through a cleft I caught sight again of the far end of the bridge; noted among the clustered figures of its garrison of the frog-men a movement, a flashing of green fire like marshlights on spear tips; wondered idly what it was, and then, other thoughts crowding in, followed along, head bent, behind the pair who had found in what was Olaf's hell, their true paradise.
And through the portal marched, two by two, incredible, nightmare figures frog-men, giants, taller by nearly a yard than even tall O'Keefe! Their enormous saucer eyes were irised by wide bands of green-flecked red, in which the phosphorescence flickered. Their long muzzles, lips half-open in monstrous grin, held rows of glistening, slender, lancet sharp fangs.
"The Silent Ones forgive me for doubting them," she whispered; and again hope blossomed on her face even as it did on Larry's. The frog-men were gaining. Clothed in the armour of that mist, they pressed back from the bridge-head the invaders. There was another prodigious movement at the ends of the crescent, and racing up, pressing against the dwarfs, came other legions of Nak's warriors.
The dead-alive! The slaves of the Dweller! They swayed and tossed, and then, like water racing through an opened dam, they swept upon the bridge-head. On and on they pushed, like the bore of a mighty tide. The frog-men strove against them, clubbing, spearing, tearing them. But even those worst smitten seemed not to fall.
On they pushed, driving forward, irresistible a battering ram of flesh and bone. They clove the masses of the Akka, pressing them to the sides of the bridge and over. Through the open gates they forced them for there was no room for the frog-men to stand against that implacable tide. Then those of the Akka who were left turned their backs and ran.
Then down upon the ledge, dropping into the Crimson Sea, sending up geysers of ruby spray, dashing on the bridge, crushing the frog-men, fell a shower of stone, mingled with distorted shapes and fragments whose scales still flashed meteoric as they hurled from above. "That which makes things fall upward," hissed Olaf. "That which I saw in the garden of Lugur!"
The seat splintered, leaving in my clutch a golden bar. I jumped to Larry's side, guarding his back, whirling it like a staff; felt it crunch once twice through unseen bone and muscle. At the door was a booming. Into the chamber rushed a dozen of the frog-men.
Patrick, it's out of it soon ye'll be gettin'!" Larry! Larry! If it had but been true and I could see Lakla and you beside me now! Larry and the Frog-Men Long had been her tale in the telling, and too long, perhaps, have I been in the repeating but not every day are the mists rolled away to reveal undreamed secrets of earth-youth.
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