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Updated: May 10, 2025
Tara of Helium laughed and pinched her companion. "You persistent little pest," she cried. "Of course I shall fly does not Tara of Helium always do that which pleases her?" Uthia shook her head sorrowfully. "Alas! she does," she admitted. "Iron is the Warlord of Barsoom to the influences of all but two. In the hands of Dejah Thoris and Tara of Helium he is as potters' clay."
I love you and there is nothing that I would not do for you and nothing would I do to harm you. Again, as I have so often in the past, I offer you your freedom." "I do not wish my freedom if it will separate me from you, Tara of Helium," replied Uthia. "I am happy here with you I think that I should die without you." Again the girls kissed. "And you will not fly alone, then?" questioned the slave.
She was strangely unstrung and shortly thereafter returned to her own quarter of the palace, where she stood for a long time by a window looking out beyond the scarlet tower of Greater Helium toward the northwest. Presently she turned angrily away. "I hate him!" she exclaimed aloud. "Whom?" inquired the privileged Uthia. Tara of Helium stamped her foot.
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