Abraham Merritt Premium Collection: 18 Sci-Fi Books in One Edition. Abraham Merritt

bewilderment. For a little she held her listening attitude; then the gaze of the Three left her; focused upon the O’Keefe.

      “Thus speak the Silent Ones — through Lakla, their handmaiden,” the golden voice was like low trumpet notes. “At the threshold of doom is that world of yours above. Yea, even the doom, Goodwin, that ye dreamed and the shadow of which, looking into your mind they see, say the Three. For not upon earth and never upon earth can man find means to destroy the Shining One.”

      She listened again — and the foreboding deepened to an amazed fear.

      “They say, the Silent Ones,” she went on, “that they know not whether even they have power to destroy. Energies we know nothing of entered into its shaping and are part of it; and still other energies it has gathered to itself”— she paused; a shadow of puzzlement crept into her voice “and other energies still, forces that ye DO know and symbolize by certain names — hatred and pride and lust and many others which are forces real as that hidden in the Keth; and among them — fear, which weakens all those others —” Again she paused.

      “But within it is nothing of that greatest of all, that which can make powerless all the evil others, that which we call — love,” she ended softly.

      “I’d like to be the one to put a little more FEAR in the beast,” whispered Larry to me, grimly in our own English. The three weird heads bent, ever so slightly — and I gasped, and Larry grew a little white as Lakla nodded —

      “They say, Larry,” she said, “that there you touch one side of the heart of the matter — for it is through the way of fear the Silent Ones hope to strike at the very life of the Shining One!”

      The visage Larry turned to me was eloquent of wonder; and mine reflected it — for what REALLY were this Three to whom our minds were but open pages, so easily read? Not long could we conjecture; Lakla broke the little silence.

      “This, they say, is what is to happen. First will come upon us Lugur and Yolara with all their host. Because of fear the Shining One will lurk behind within its lair; for despite all, the Dweller DOES dread the Three, and only them. With this host the Voice and the priestess will strive to conquer. And if they do, then will they be strong enough, too, to destroy us all. For if they take the abode they banish from the Dweller all fear and sound the end of the Three.

      “Then will the Shining One be all free indeed; free to go out into the world, free to do there as it wills!

      “But if they do not conquer — and the Shining One comes not to their aid, abandoning them even as it abandoned its own Taithu — then will the Three be loosed from a part of their doom, and they will go through the Portal, seek the Shining One beyond the Veil, and, piercing it through fear’s opening, destroy it.”

      “That’s quite clear,” murmured the O’Keefe in my ear. “Weaken the morale — then smash. I’ve seen it happen a dozen times in Europe. While they’ve got their nerve there’s not a thing you can do; get their nerve — and not a thing can they do. And yet in both cases they’re the same men.”

      Lakla had been listening again. She turned, thrust out hands to Larry, a wild hope in her eyes — and yet a hope half shamed.

      “They say,” she cried, “that they give us choice. Remembering that your world doom hangs in the balance, we have choice — choice to stay and help fight Yolara’s armies — and they say they look not lightly on that help. Or choice to go — and if so be you choose the latter, then will they show another way that leads into your world!”

      A flush had crept over the O’Keefe’s face as she was speaking. He took her hands and looked long into the golden eyes; glancing up I saw the Trinity were watching them intently — imperturbably.

      “What do you say, mavourneen?” asked Larry gently. The handmaiden hung her head; trembled.

      “Your words shall be mine, O one I love,” she whispered. “So going or staying, I am beside you.”

      “And you, Goodwin?” he turned to me. I shrugged my shoulders — after all I had no one to care.

      “It’s up to you, Larry,” I remarked, deliberately choosing his own phraseology.

      The O’Keefe straightened, squared his shoulders, gazed straight into the flame-flickering eyes.

      “We stick!” he said briefly.

      Shamefacedly I recall now that at the time I thought this colloquialism not only irreverent, but in somewhat bad taste. I am glad to say I was alone in that bit of weakness. The face that Lakla turned to Larry was radiant with love, and although the shamed hope had vanished from the sweet eyes, they were shining with adoring pride. And the marble visages of the Three softened, and the little flames died down.

      “Wait,” said Lakla, “there is one other thing they say we must answer before they will hold us to that promise — wait —”

      She listened, and then her face grew white — white as those of the Three themselves; the glorious eyes widened, stark terror filling them; the whole lithe body of her shook like a reed in the wind.

      “Not that!” she cried out to the Three. “Oh, not that! Not Larry — let me go even as you will — but not him!” She threw up frantic hands to the woman-being of the Trinity. “Let ME bear it alone,” she wailed. “Alone — mother! Mother!”

      The Three bent their heads toward her, their faces pitiful, and from the eyes of the woman One rolled — tears! Larry leaped to Lakla’s side.

      ”Mavourneen!“ he cried. “Sweetheart, what have they said to you?”

      He glared up at the Silent Ones, his hand twitching toward the high-hung pistol holster.

      The handmaiden swung to him; threw white arms around his neck; held her head upon his heart until her sobbing ceased.

      “This they — say — the Silent Ones,” she gasped and then all the courage of her came back. “O heart of mine!” she whispered to Larry, gazing deep into his eyes, his anxious face cupped between her white palms. “This they say — that should the Shining One come to succour Yolara and Lugur, should it conquer its fear — and — do this — then is there but one way left to destroy it — and to save your world.”

      She swayed; he gripped her tightly.

      “But one way — you and I must go — together — into its embrace! Yea, we must pass within it — loving each other, loving the world, realizing to the full all that we sacrifice and sacrificing all, our love, our lives, perhaps even that you call soul, O loved one; must give ourselves ALL to the Shining One — gladly, freely, our love for each other flaming high within us — that this curse shall pass away! For if we do this, pledge the Three, then shall that power of love we carry into it weaken for a time all that evil which the Shining One has become — and in that time the Three can strike and slay!”

      The blood rushed from my heart; scientist that I am, essentially, my reason rejected any such solution as this of the activities of the Dweller. Was it not, the thought flashed, a propitiation by the Three out of their own weakness — and as it flashed I looked up to see their eyes, full of sorrow, on mine — and knew they read the thought. Then into the whirling vortex of my mind came steadying reflections — of history changed by the power of hate, of passion, of ambition, and most of all, by love. Was there not actual dynamic energy in these things — was there not a Son of Man who hung upon a cross on Calvary?

      “Dear love o’ mine,” said the O’Keefe quietly, “is it in your heart to say YES to this?”

      “Larry,” she spoke low, “what is in your heart is in mine; but I did so want to go with you, to live with you — to — to bear you children, Larry — and to see the sun.”

      My eyes were wet; dimly through them I saw his gaze on me.

      “If the world IS at stake,” he whispered, “why of course there’s only one thing to do. God knows I never was afraid when I was fighting