Yolara, Priestess of the Shining One
"You'd have this handy, Doc." O'Keefe paused at the of the and me one of the he had taken from Marakinoff.
"Shall I not have one also?" asked the latter.
"When you need it you'll it," answered O'Keefe. "I'll tell you frankly, though, Professor, that you'll have to me I trust you with a gun. You shoot too straight—from cover."
The of anger in the Russian's to a cold consideration.
"You say always just what is in your mind, Lieutenant O'Keefe," he mused. "Da—that I shall remember!" Later I was to this odd observation—and Marakinoff was to indeed.
In single file, O'Keefe at the and Olaf up the rear, we passed through the portal. Before us a shaft, into which the light from the of the liquidly; set in its the steps spiralled, and them we went, cautiously. The ended in a well; silent—with no of exit! The joined each other evenly—hermetically. Carved on one of the was one of the five vines. I pressed my upon the calyxes, as Larry had the Moon Chamber.
A crack—horizontal, four wide—appeared on the wall; widened, and as the that it to the level of our eyes, we looked through a hundred-feet-long in the rock! The steadily—and we saw that it was a Cyclopean set the of the passageway. It the level of our and stopped. At the end of this tunnel, was the that had, a moment before, into its roof, was a low, narrow opening through which light streamed.
"Nowhere to go but out!" Larry. "And I'll Golden Eyes is waiting for us with a taxi!" He forward. We followed, slipping, along the surface; and I, for one, had a of what our would be should that we had emerged! We the end; out of the narrow triangle that was its exit.
We upon a wide with a thick yellow moss. I looked behind—and O'Keefe's arm. The door through which we had come had vanished! There was only a of rock, on great of the hung; around our ran, and summits, if it had, were hidden, like the cliffs, in the above us.
"Nowhere to go but ahead—and Golden Eyes hasn't her date!" laughed O'Keefe—but grimly.
We walked a yards along the and, a corner, the end of one of the bridges. From this point the vehicles were plain, and we see they were, indeed, like the of the Nautilus and beautiful. Their sat high upon the whorl. Their were high with cushions, upon which half-swathed in webs. From the gardens smaller of green ran into the way, much as do on earth; and in and out of them the shells.
There came a from one. Its had us. They pointed; others stopped and stared; one and up a runway—and over the other of the came a score of men. They were dwarfed—none of them more than five high, of shoulder, powerful.
"Trolde!" Olaf, O'Keefe, pistol free in his hand.
But at the middle of the the leader stopped, his men, and came toward us alone, in the immemorial, of truce. He paused, us with wonder; we returned the with interest. The dwarf's was as white as Olaf's—far than those of the other three of us; the clean-cut and noble, almost classical; the wide set of a and the black over his like that on some old Greek statue.
Dwarfed though he was, there was no of about him. The were with a green that looked like linen. It was in at the by a with what to be amazonites. In it was a long the Malaysian kris. His were in the same green cloth as the upper garment. His were sandalled.
My returned to his face, and in it I something disturbing; an of half-malicious that the like a threat; a that at entire to or sorrow; something of the that was and disquieting.
He spoke—and, to my surprise, of the were familiar to me to catch the meaning of the whole. They were Polynesian, the Polynesian of the Samoans which is its most form, but in some way—archaic. Later I was to know that the the same relation to the Polynesian of today as not that of Chaucer, but of the Venerable Bede, to modern English. Nor was this to be so astonishing, when with the knowledge came the that it was from it the language we call Polynesian sprang.
"From do you come, strangers—and how you your way here?" said the green dwarf.
I my hand toward the us. His incredulously; he at its drop, upon which a not have its way, and laughed.
"We came through the rock," I answered his thought. "And we come in peace," I added.
"And may peace walk with you," he said half-derisively—"if the Shining One it!"
He us again.
"Show me, strangers, where you came through the rock," he commanded. We the way to where we had from the well of the stairway.
"It was here," I said, the cliff.
"But I see no opening," he said suavely.
"It closed us," I answered; and then, for the time, how the sounded. The passed through his again. But he his and the rock.
"You give a turn to our speech," he said. "It strangely, indeed—as as your answers." He looked at us quizzically. "I wonder where you learned it! Well, all that you can to the Afyo Maie." His and his arms out in a wide salaam. "Be pleased to come with me!" he ended abruptly.
"In peace?" I asked.
"In peace," he replied—then slowly—"with me at least."
"Oh, come on, Doc!" Larry. "As long as we're here let's see the sights. Allons vieux!" he called to the green dwarf. The latter, the spirit, if not the words, looked at O'Keefe with a of approval; then to the great Norseman and him with admiration; out and one of the biceps.
"Lugur will welcome you, at least," he as though to himself. He and a hand courteously, us to pass. We crossed. At the of the one of the was waiting.
Beyond, had gathered, their us in much excitement. The green us to the of and then himself us. The vehicle started off smoothly, the now making way, and the green at a and without vibration, toward the seven-terraced tower.
As we along I to the of the power, but I not—then. There was no of mechanism, but that the to some of energy was certain—the driver a small which to not only our speed, but our direction.
We and up a through one of the gardens, and stopped a pavilion. I saw now that these were much larger than I had thought. The to which we had been covered, I estimated, an acre. Oblong, with its slender, vari-coloured regularly, its were like the screens of the Japanese—shoji.
The green us up a of steps by great serpents, and scaled. He twice upon two of the pillars, and a screen rolled aside, an about with low on which a dozen or more of the men, as he.
They up to us leisurely; the in their by the same that to be of all these people we had as yet seen.
"The Afyo Maie them, Rador," said one.
The green nodded, us, and the way through the great and into a smaller was with the I had noted from the of the cliff. I the—blackness—with interest.
It had neither texture; it was not matter—and yet it solidity; an entire cessation, a complete of light; an at once and palpable. I stretched, involuntarily, my hand out toward it, and it back.
"Do you your end so soon?" Rador. "But I forget—you do not know," he added. "On your life touch not the blackness, ever. It—"
He stopped, for in the a portal appeared; out of the like a picture by a upon a screen. Through it was a with a soft glow. Rising from couches, a woman and a man us, over a long, low table of what jet, with flowers and fruits.
About the room—that part of it, at least, that I see—were a chairs of the same substance. On high, three stood, and it was from them that the rose emanated. At the of the woman was a smaller was by of blue.
"Enter Rador with the strangers!" a clear, sweet voice called.
Rador and aside, us to pass. We entered, the green us, and out of the of my I saw the as as it had appeared and again the its place.
"Come closer, strangers. Be not afraid!" the bell-toned voice.
We approached.
The woman, scientist that I am, the catch in my throat. Never had I a woman so as was Yolara of the Dweller's city—and none of so a beauty. Her was of the colour of the of the and in a above her broad, white brows; her wide were of that to a and in anger to purple; or blue, they had little laughing them, but when the of anger them—they were not laughing, no! The that covered, her did not the of her the sweet of and breasts. But for all her beauty, she was—sinister! There was about the mouth, and in the music of her voice—not cruelty, but the more terrifying, careless of nature itself.
The girl of the rose had been beautiful, yes! But her was human, understandable. You her with a in her arms—but you not so this woman. About her something unearthly. A sweet echo of the Dweller was Yolara, the Dweller's priestess—and as gloriously, evil!
