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Updated: June 12, 2025
"He goes with you," said Lakla, and threw about Yolara a swathing that covered the exquisite, alluring body. "And you shall pass through the Portal, not skulk along the path of the worm!" She bent to Rador, whispered to him; he nodded; she had told him, I supposed, the secret of its opening.
And with a long, deep, joyous sigh Lakla took Larry's hand, drew him to his feet, and silently we followed them out of that hall of wonder.
For it was she who had pointed out to us the way from the peril of the Dweller's lair on Nan-Tauach. And as I looked at her, I marvelled that ever could I have thought the priestess more beautiful. Into the eyes of O'Keefe rushed joy and an utter abasement of shame. And from all about came murmurs edged with anger, half-incredulous, tinged with fear: "Lakla!" "Lakla!" "The handmaiden!"
They stretched forth; they touched the bent heads of Lakla and the O'Keefe; caressed them, drew them together, softly stroked them lovingly, with more than a touch of benediction. And withdrew! The sparkling mists rolled up once more, hiding the Silent Ones. As silently as once before we had gone we passed out of the place of light, beyond the crimson stone, back to the handmaiden's chamber.
Flashes of intense, green light, mingled with gleams like lightning strokes of concentrated moon rays, sprang from behind the wall sprang and struck and burned upon the scales of the batrachians. "They come!" whispered Lakla. At the far ends of the crescent a terrific milling had begun. Here it was plain the Akka were holding.
These they raised in salute and through the portal strode a dwarf huge as Rador, dressed as he and carrying only the poniard that was the badge of office of Muria's captainry. The green dwarf swept the shell expertly against the ledge; leaped out. "Greeting, Serku!" he answered. "I was but looking for the coria of Lakla." "Lakla!" exclaimed Serku.
Lakla turned; the clear, golden eyes were sorrowful, the sweet mouth drooping; but her loveliness, her gentleness, that undefinable synthesis of all her tender self that seemed always to circle her with an atmosphere of lucid normality, lulled my panic. "Drink this," she commanded, holding a small vial to my lips.
I wrenched my face from the smothering contact. "Don't trust her, Larry!" I cried and again the grip choked me. "Is that devil in front of you or behind you, old man?" he asked quietly, eyes never leaving the priestess. "If he's in front I'll take a chance and wing him and then you scoot and warn Lakla." But I could not answer; nor, remembering Yolara's threat, would I, had I been able.
"Kiss the bride, Doc!" cried the O'Keefe. And for the third and, soul's sorrow! the last time, Lakla dimpling and blushing, I thrilled to the touch of her soft, sweet lips. Quickly were our preparations for departure made. Rador, conscious, his immense vitality conquering fast his wounds, was to be borne ahead of us.
There came a rush of little feet; soft, fragrant draperies brushed my face; dimly I watched Lakla bend over the Irishman. She straightened her arms swept out and the writhing vine, with its tendrilled heads of ruby bloom, five flames of misty incandescence, leaped into the faces of the soldiers now close upon us.
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