Avon Murder Mystery Monthly No. 41 — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A. MERRITT 147 bing with that muffled, menacing note that must have pulsed from the «golden tambours that summoned to battle Timur’s fierce hordes. “They were—taken.” 7 “Taken!” I gasped. “Taken by what—these?” I swept my hands out toward the Metal Things milling around us. | “No! These are mine. These are they who obey me.” The golden voice now shrilled with her passion. “Taken by—men!” | a had read my face although he could not understand our words. “Ruth—” | | “Taken,” I said. “Both Ruth and Ventnor. Taken by the armored men—the men of Cherkis!” | | “Cherkis!” She had caught the word. “Yes—Cherkis! And now he and all his men—and all his women—and every living thing he rules shall pay. And fear not—you two. For I, Norhala, will bring back my own. | | | | “Woe, woe to you, Cherkis, and to all of yours! For I, Norhala, am awake, and I, Norhala, remember. Woe to you, Cherkis, woe—for now all ends for you! : | “Not by the gods of my mother who turned their strength against her do I promise this. I, Norhala, have no need for them—I, Norhala, who have strength greater than they. And would I could crush those gods as I shall crush you, Cherkis—and every living thing of yours! Yea—and every unliving thing as well!” Not halting now was Norhala’s speech; it poured from the ruthless lips—flamingly. | “We go,” she cried. “And something of vengeance I have saved for you—as is your right.” re | _ She tossed her arms high; stamped upon the back of the Metal Thing that held us. : | | It quivered and sped away. Swiftly dwindled the City’s bulk; fast faded its glimmering watchful face. ~ Not toward the veils of light but out over the plain we flew. Above us, crouching against the blast of our going, streamed like a silken ban- ner Norhala’s hair, gemmed with the witch lights. a We were far out now, the City far away: The cube slowed. Norhala threw high her head. From the arched, exquisite throat pealed a trum- pet call—golden, summoning, imperious. Thrice it rang forth—and all the surrounding valley seemed to halt and listen. | Followed upon its ending, a chanting as goldenly sonorous. Wild, peremptory, triumphant. It was like a mustering shouting to adventur- ous stars, buglings to buccaneering winds, cadenced beckonings to rest- less ranks of viking waves, signaling to all the corsairs and picaroons of | the elemental. | GOGO .S (GO)