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And not long after we swung past where the shadow had hung and hovered over the shining depths of the Midnight Pool. Upon Lakla's insistence we passed on to the palace of Lugur, not to Yolara's I do not know why, but go there then she would not. And within one of its columned rooms, maidens of the black-haired folks, the wistfulness, the fear, all gone from their sparkling eyes, served us.
Plain now was the reason for his foreknowledge of Lakla's appearance at the feast where Larry had so narrowly escaped Yolara's spells; plain the determining factor that had cast his lot with ours, and my confidence, despite his discourse of mysterious perils, experienced a remarkable quickening.
Around the jet table were grouped a number of figures Lugur, Yolara beside him; seven others all of them fair-haired and all men save one who sat at the left of the priestess an old, old woman, how old I could not tell, her face bearing traces of beauty that must once have been as great as Yolara's own, but now ravaged, in some way awesome; through its ruins the fearful, malicious gaiety shining out like a spirit of joy held within a corpse!
Stretched along their length was a wide ribbon of beauty a shimmering multitude of gleaming, pulsing, prismatic moons; glowing, glowing ever brighter, ever more wondrous the gigantic Medusae globes feasting on dwarf and frog-man alike! Across the waters, faintly, came a triumphant shouting from Lugur's and Yolara's men!
And upon the moment, before Yolara's arms fell, there issued, apparently from the air around us, a peal of sound that might have been the shouting of some playful god hurling great suns through the net of stars. It was like the deepest notes of all the organs in the world combined in one; summoning, majestic, cosmic!
She pointed down upon Larry. He glanced up at her. "Can't quite make out what you say, Yolara," he muttered thickly. "But say anything you like I love your voice!" I turned sick with dread. Yolara's hand stole softly upon the Irishman's curls caressingly. "You know the law, Yolara." Lugur's voice was flat, deadly, "You may not mate with other than your own kind.
It swathed the Akka, and closer, ever closer it swept toward the approach upon which Yolara's men had now gained foothold. From their ranks came flash after flash of the green ray aimed at the abode! But as the light sped and struck the opalescence it was blotted out! The shimmering mists seemed to enfold, to dissipate it. Lakla drew a deep breath.
I sensed a subtle change in their attitude toward us; a new intentness; a doubt plainly tinged with apprehension. What was it they feared? Why had the symbol of the vine wrought the change? And who or what were the Silent Ones? Yolara's eyes turned to Olaf, hardened, and grew cold grey.
Yolara's face was white, her eyes strained but her voice was unshaken as she called to the clamouring guards: "It is nothing go to your places!" But when the sound of their return had ceased she stared tensely at the Irishman then looked again at the shattered vase. "It is true!" she cried, "but see, the Keth is alive!" I followed her pointing finger.
Through the battling nebulosities Yolara's face swam forth horror-filled, distorted, inhuman! The ranks of the dead-alive quivered, moved, writhed, as though each felt the torment of the Thing that had enslaved them. The radiance that the Three wielded grew more intense, thicker, seemed to expand. Within it, suddenly, were scores of flaming triangles scores of eyes like those of the Silent Ones!
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