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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Not by the gods of my mother who turned their strength against her do I promise this. I, Norhala, have no need for them I, Norhala, who have strength greater than they. And would I could crush those gods as I shall crush you, Cherkis and every living thing of yours! Yea and every UNLIVING thing as well!" Not halting now was Norhala's speech; it poured from the ruthless lips flamingly.
I reentered the blue globe and paused on the threshold staring into the wide and wondering eyes of Ruth bolt upright in her silken bed with Norhala's cloak clutched to her chin like a suddenly awakened and startled child. As she glimpsed me she stretched out her hand. Drake, wide awake on the instant, leaped to his feet, his hand jumping to his pistol.
Of course, lying bound as she had in the vanished veils, she could have seen nothing of the stupendous tragedy enacted beyond them but had not Ventnor said that possessed by the inexplicable obsession evoked by the weird woman Ruth had seen with her eyes, thought with her mind? And had there not been evidence that in her body had been echoed the torments of Norhala's? Had she forgotten?
The shimmering radiance suffusing it had thickened perceptibly; hovered over the valley floor faintly sparkling mists; hid it. Like a shroud was that silence. Beneath it my mind struggled, its unease, its forebodings growing ever stronger. Silently we repacked the saddlebags; girthed the pony; silently we waited for Norhala's return.
The fifth room was beyond question Norhala's bedchamber. Upon its floor the ancient rugs were thick. A low couch of carven ivory inset with gold rested a few feet from the doorway. A dozen or more of the chests were scattered about and flowing over with silken stuffs. Upon the back of four golden lions stood a high mirror of polished silver.
Ruth with us, we made a brief inspection of the surroundings of Norhala's house. It was set as though in the narrowest portion of an hour-glass. The precipitous walls marched inward from the gateway forming the lower half of the figure; at the back they swung apart at a wider angle. This upper part of the hour-glass was filled with a park-like forest.
Close to the pool wherein we had first seen the white miracle of Norhala's body, two immense, purple fired stars blazed. Between them, like a suppliant cast from black iron, was Yuruk. Poised upon their nether tips the stars guarded him. Head touching his knees, eyes hidden within his folded arms, the black eunuch crouched. "Yuruk!" There was an unearthly mercilessness in Norhala's voice.
I want my sister back. I'm helping her to get back. Now let be. I know what I'm doing. Look at her!" We looked. In the face that glared up at Ventnor was nothing of Ruth even as he had said. There was the same cold, awesome wrath that had rested upon Norhala's as she watched Cherkis weep over the eating up of his city.
"No fear for us," Drake burst out hastily. "We're Norhala's little playthings. We're tabu. Take it from me, Ruth, I'd bet my head there isn't one of these Things, great or small, and no matter how many, that doesn't by this time know all about us. "We'll probably be received with demonstrations of interest by the populace as welcome guests.
And as the mist covered and clung I saw the sulphurous and crimson flares dim. They were snuffed out. The Keeper fell! Upon Norhala's face flamed a wild triumph, banishing despair. The outstretched planes of the Cross swept up as though in torment.
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