The Face in the Abyss by Abraham Merritt (spicy books to read .TXT) đź“•
She crossed to the little knoll and picked up the spears. She held one out to him, the one that bore the emerald point.
"This," she said, "to remember--Suarra."
"No," he thrust it back. "Go!"
If the others saw that jewel, never, he knew, would he be able to start them on the back trail--if they could find it. Starrett had seen it, of course, but he might be able to convince them that Starrett's story was only a drunken dream.
The girl studied him--a quickened interest in her eyes.
She slipped the bracelets from her arms, held them out to him with the three spears.
"Will you take these--and leave your comrades?" she asked. "Here are gold and gems. They are treasure. They are what you have been seeking. Take them. Take them and go, leaving that man here. Consent--and I will show you a way out of this forbidden land."
Graydon hesitated. The emerald alone was worth a fortune. What loyalty did he owe the three, afte
Read free book «The Face in the Abyss by Abraham Merritt (spicy books to read .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Abraham Merritt
- Performer: -
Read book online «The Face in the Abyss by Abraham Merritt (spicy books to read .TXT) 📕». Author - Abraham Merritt
“I am going to leave you, child,” she began without preamble. “I am tired. I am going to sleep—oh, for a long, long time. Nay—do not look so startled and unhappy. I don’t intend to die. I know of no other world to which to go. But I don’t intend to grow old—” her eyes sparkled at Graydon’s uncontrollable expression of surprise at this remarkable statement, considering her thousands of years. “I mean I do not intend to let myself look old. Therefore, I shall sleep and renew myself—and my looks. It was the custom of my people.
“Now thus have I decided. There are not many of you left in YuAtlanchi, it is true. But shortly there will be more. Trust your race for that—if for nothing else. Let you and Regor govern here—with Tyddo to aid you. Nimir is gone forever. Those of his who still lurk, outlaw—destroy as speedily as you can. Let nothing of him nor of Lantlu remain. If any of the Makers of Dream—relapse—kill them. Danger lurks in that—Suarra! Stop your crying! You’re pulling my hair!”
She frowned for a moment into the mirror.
“I have told you,” went on the Mother, briskly, “that I do not intend to die. And certainly I do not intend to be made uncomfortable while I sleep. I do not think so highly of those people you’ve told me so much about, Graydon. Oh, I have no doubt that they include any number of persons as estimable as yourself. But collectively, they irritate me, to put it mildly. I don’t propose to have them digging around where I am sleeping, nor blowing up things with their explosives, nor building—what is your quaint word—skyscrapers over me. Nor ransacking the caverns for their treasure, nor poking around trying to find out things they’re much better off not knowing—and wouldn’t know what to do with if they did find them. I will have no invasion of the Hidden Land.
“Therefore, during the last two days I have seen to it that there cannot be. I have destroyed much of what Nimir recovered from the Cavern of the Lost Wisdom, including that which evoked the shadows. I have destroyed my two disks which summoned the shapes of flame. You will not need them—nor shall I, again.
“And, Graydon, I have sent my Messengers on guard beyond the barrier, and especially against those flying boats of yours which have done so much to make barriers negligible. They will bring them down without mercy. They will as mercilessly destroy those who may survive the fall. No eyes shall peer down on YuAtlanchi to bring back strong companies who would—destroy my slumber. I put it that way, child, not to hurt your feelings.
“That is definite. That is irrevocable. And thus shall it be,” said the Serpentwoman, and Graydon had no doubt at all that quite as ruthlessly as she promised it, so would it be carried out. “And if by any newly discovered wisdom they overcome my Messengers, Tyddo will awaken me. And me, Graydon, they will not overcome. That, too, is certain.”
She glanced again at her hair—
“Suarra—that is really fine. Ah-h—but I am tired!” she she yawned, her little pointed tongue flickering in the scarlet, heartshaped mouth. “It has all been enjoyable—but rather fatiguing. And I think—” she looked again into the mirror— “yes, I am certain I have acquired a few wrinkles. Ah-h—it is time I slept!”
Her eyes dwelt lovingly upon the weeping girl, and they were misted, too. Whatever the urgency that prompted the Serpentwoman to go, Graydon had swift perception that in her heart she did not feel the lightness she affected.
“Children,” she twined her arm around Suarra’s neck. “Come with me. On my way I must seal that chamber on which open the Doors of Life and Death. You shall see it.”
She nodded to Suarra. Under the girl’s touch the wall opposite the doorway swung open. The scarlet body of Kon swayed through, behind him four of his kind, carrying the
Mother’s litter. She gave one last look in her mirror, then drew her coils into the litter’s cushions. Kon leading, Graydon and Regor on each side, Suarra lying beside her with head hidden in the Mother’s breast, the Lord of Folly following, they passed into a great empty chamber, out through its farther wall, and down a wide ramp.
Down went the ramp, and down—far below the foundations of the Temple. They came to an alcove that curved shallowly into the wall of the passage. Here the Mother signaled her bearers. They halted close beside it. She stretched out a hand, within it the smaller sistrum. A faint ray touched the wall. An oval opening appeared, as though the ray had melted the stone away. She beckoned Graydon, drew Suarra over her body so the girl could look within.
They peered down into a place that was like the half of a gigantic pearl. Its circled floor was some twenty yards in diameter. It was filled with a limpid rosy light as though a sun were shining behind its curved walls. The floor was like black obsidian, and set within it were two pools, oval, some twenty feet in length and half that in width. Between them was a couch of the same black glassy substance and hollowed with the outlines of a human body—as though, indeed, some perfect body of woman or man had been pressed there while the material was still plastic and, hardening, had retained the stamp.
In one pool the water, if it was water, was like pale rose wine, shot through with sparklings and eddies of deeper rose. The liquid in the second pool was utterly colorless, translucent, still—awesome in its tranquility.
While they watched, this tranquility was disturbed. Something came floating up from its depths. And as it approached the surface, the liquid in the rosy pool too became disturbed, its sparklings and its eddies dancing jubilantly.
Out of each pool a bubble arose, slowly expanding until they had domed them from edge to edge.
Rosy bubble and crystal clear bubble broke. A rainbow mist filled the chamber, hiding pools and couch. It was shot through with tiny darting particles of irised light. It pulsed for no more than three heartbeats. It vanished.
The Serpentwoman raised the sistrum. She sent from it a ray straight into the still pool. The pool quivered as though it had been a living heart. Its translucency clouded. A cloud of little bubbles rushed up through it as if trying to escape the ray. They burst with a faint, mournful sighing. The pool again was still—but all awesome tranquillity had gone.
The sistrum’s ray plunged into the rosy pool. There was a moment of frantic swirling in its depths. Again the bursting cloud of sighing bubbles. And it too lay still—and dead.
“It is done!” said the Serpentwoman, tonelessly. Her face was drawn, her lips pale, her eyes like stone.
She passed the sistrum over the aperture. The wall reappeared, seeming to form out of air as it came. She signaled the Spidermen. They resumed their journey, in silence.
They came at last to another shallow niche. Here, under the sistrum, the wall drew away into a low and rounded portal. They entered. It was circular like that of the two pools but not more than half its size. A faint blue radiance streamed from its walls, centering upon a huge nest of cushions. Around its walls were several coffers. Save for these, it was empty. Graydon was aware of a slightly pungent, curiously fresh, fragrance.
The Serpentwoman flowed out of her litter, coiled herself upon the cushions. She looked at them, tears now frankly in the purple eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She gave the sistrum to the Lord of Folly, strained Suarra to her bosom. She beckoned Graydon, and gently brought the girl’s lips and his together.
And suddenly she held them a little away from her, bent and kissed each upon the mouth, twinkled on them mischievously, wholly tenderly, and laughed her birdlike trill.
“Waken me to see your first-born!” said the Snake Mother.
She thrust them from her, settled down on her cushions, and yawned. Her eyes closed, her head nodded once or twice; sleepily moved to find a better place.
But as Graydon turned to go, he thought that a change had begun to creep over her face—that its unearthly beauty was beginning to fade… like a veil dropping…
Resolutely, he turned his head, forbade himself to look … let that doubt remain unresolved … as she had willed him to see her, so he would remember her….
They passed out of the low doorway, Suarra clasped close to Graydon, weeping. The Lord of Folly raised the sistrum. The stone of the portal thickened into place.
The hidden chamber where the Snake Mother slept was sealed.
Comments (0)