Yasmina had time but for one when she herself in that and from her protector with force. She once, and then she had no to scream. She was blinded, deafened, mute and by the of the air about her. There was a of and speed, a of natural gone mad, and then and oblivion.
A of these to her as she consciousness; so she out and as though to a and flight. Her closed on soft fabric, and a of her. She took of her surroundings.
She was on a with black velvet. This in a great, room were with across which with realism. Floating at the ceiling, and that itself to in the corners. There to be neither doors in the walls, or else they were by the tapestries. Where the light came from, Yasmina not determine. The great room was a of mysteries, or shadows, and in which she not have to movement, yet which her mind with a and terror.
But her itself on a object. On another, smaller of jet, a away, a man sat cross-legged, at her. His long black robe, with gold thread, about him, his figure. His hands were in his sleeves. There was a cap upon his head. His was calm, placid, not unhandsome, his and oblique. He did not move a as he sat her, did his when he saw she was conscious.
Yasmina like a of ice-water her spine. She herself on her and at the stranger.
'Who are you?' she demanded. Her voice and inadequate.
'I am the Master of Yimsha.' The was rich and resonant, like the of a temple bell.
'Why did you me here?' she demanded.
'Were you not me?'
'If you are one of the Black Seers—yes!' she answered recklessly, that he read her anyway.
He laughed softly, and up and her again.
'You would turn the wild children of the against the Seers of Yimsha!' He smiled. 'I have read it in your mind, princess. Your weak, mind, with of and revenge.'
'You my brother!' A of anger was with her fear; her hands were clenched, her rigid. 'Why did you him? He you. The say the Seers are above in affairs. Why did you the king of Vendhya?'
'How can an ordinary the of a Seer?' returned the Master calmly. 'My in the temples of Turan, who are the the of Tarim, me to myself in of Yezdigerd. For of my own, I complied. How can I my to your intellect? You not understand.'
'I this: that my died!' Tears of and in her voice. She rose upon her and at him with wide eyes, as and in that moment as a she-panther.
'As Yezdigerd desired,' the Master calmly. 'For a while it was my to his ambitions.'
'Is Yezdigerd your vassal?' Yasmina to keep the of her voice unaltered. She had her pressing something hard and under a of velvet. Subtly she her position, moving her hand under the fold.
'Is the dog that up the in the temple the of the god?' returned the Master.
He did not to notice the she to dissemble. Concealed by the velvet, her closed on what she was the of a dagger. She her to the light of in her eyes.
'I am of Yezdigerd,' said the Master. 'I have to other amusements—ha!'
With a Yasmina like a cat, murderously. Then she and to the floor, where she cowered, up at the man on the dais. He had not moved; his was unchanged. Tremblingly she her hand and at it with eyes. There was no in her fingers; they a of lotus, the on the stem.
She it as if it had been a viper, and away from the of her tormenter. She returned to her own dais, that was at least more for a queen than on the at the of a sorcerer, and him apprehensively, reprisals.
But the Master no move.
'All is one to him who the key of the cosmos,' he said cryptically. 'To an nothing is immutable. At will, in gardens, or flower-swords in the moonlight.'
'You are a devil,' she sobbed.
'Not I!' he laughed. 'I was on this planet, long ago. Once I was a common man, have I all in the of my adeptship. A in the dark is than a devil. I am of origin, but I demons. You have the Lords of the Black Circle—it would blast your to from what I them and from what I them with and serpents.
'But only I can them. My Khemsa to make himself great—poor fool, material doors and himself and his through the air from hill to hill! Yet if he had not been his power might have to mine.'
He laughed again. 'And you, poor, thing! Plotting to send a hill to Yimsha! It was such a that I myself have designed, had it to me, that you should in his hands. And I read in your mind an to by your to attempt your purpose, anyway.
'But for all your stupidity, you are a woman to look upon. It is my to keep you for my slave.'
The of a thousand proud with and at the word.
'You not!'
His cut her like a across her shoulders.
'The king not a in the road? Little fool, do you not that your is no more than a on the wind? I, who have the of the of Hell! You have how I with a rebel!'
Cowed and awed, the girl on the velvet-covered dais. The light and more phantom-like. The of the Master shadowy. His voice took on a newer of command.
'I will to you!' Her voice with but it a ring of resolution.
'You will yield,' he answered with conviction. 'Fear and pain shall teach you. I will you with and to the last of your endurance, until you as melted to be and in my hands as I desire. You shall know such as no woman knew, until my is to you as the will of the gods. And first, to your pride, you shall travel through the ages, and view all the that have been you. Aie, la khosa!'
At these the room Yasmina's gaze. The of her her scalp, and her to her palate. Somewhere a a deep, note. The on the like fire, and then out. The Master on his was but a shadow. The light gave way to soft, thick darkness, almost tangible, that with radiations. She no longer see the Master. She see nothing. She had a that the and had from her.
Then in the a began, like a that and quickened. It to a ball, and as it its light more intense, whitely. It suddenly, the with white that did not the shadows. But like an left in the gloom, a remained, and a up from the floor. Under the girl's it spread, took shape; and appeared, and great black that above her as she against the velvet. A perfume the atmosphere. It was the of the black that had up as she watched, as it in the haunted, of Khitai.
The were with life. The toward her like things, serpent-like on stems. Etched against soft, it over her, gigantic, visible in some way. Her brain with the and she to from the dais. Then she to it as it to be at an slant. She out with terror and to the velvet, but she her away. There was a as of all and and vanishing. She was a of through a black, roaring, by a wind that to her of life like a out in a storm.
Then there came a period of and movement, when the that was she and with other of life in the of existence, by until she again a individual, an of lives.
In a of terror she all her existences, and was again all the that had her the ages. She her again over the long, road of life that out her into the past. Back the of Time she in jungles, by of prey. Skin-clad, she thigh-deep in rice swamps, with water-fowl for the grains. She with the to the pointed through the soil, and she over in huts.
She saw into flame, and the slayers. She and over sands, at the slaver's stirrup, and she the of hot, hands on her flesh, the and of lust. She under the bite of the lash, and on the rack; with terror she against the hands that her on the block.
She the of childbirth, and the of love betrayed. She all the and and that man has on woman the eons; and she all the and of for woman. And like the of a was the she of her Devi-ship. She was all the she had been, yet in her she was Yasmina. This was not in the of reincarnation. At one and the same time she was a slave-wench under the whip, and the proud Devi of Vendhya. And she not only as the slave-girl suffered, but as Yasmina, to the was like a white-hot brand.
Life into life in chaos, each with its of and and agony, until she her own voice unbearably, like one long-drawn of the ages.
Then she on the velvet-covered in the room.
In a light she saw again the and the seated upon it. The was bent, the high against the dimness. She make out no clearly, but the hood, where the cap had been, a in her. As she stared, there over her a that her to her palate—a that it was not the Master who sat so on that black dais.
Then the moved and rose upright, above her. It over her and the long arms in their wide black about her. She against them in fright, by their hardness. The toward her face. And she screamed, and again in and loathing. Bony arms her body, and from that looked a of death and decay—features like on a skull.
She again, and then, as those champing, toward her lips, she consciousness....
