Avon Murder Mystery Monthly No. 41 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

148 THE METAL MONSTER A cosmic call to slay! The gigantic block upon which we rode quivered; I myself felt a thousand needle-pointed roving arrows prick me, urging me on to some jubilant, reckless orgy of destruction. Obeying that summoning there swirled to us cube and globe ‘and pyramid by the score—by the hundreds. They swept into our wake and followed—lifting up behind us, an ever rising sea. — | Higher and higher arose the metal wave—mounting, ever mounting as other score upon score leaped upon it, rushed up it and swelled its crest. And soon so great it was that it shadowed us, hung over us, The cubes we rode angled in their course; raced now with ever- increasing speed toward the spangled curtains. And still Norhala’s golden chant lured; higher and ever higher reached the following wave. Now we were rising upon a steep slope; now the amethystine, gleaming ring was almost overhead. Norhala’s song ceased. One breathless, soundless moment and we had pierced the veils. A globule of sapphire shone afar, the elfin bubble of her home. We neared it. Heart leaping, I saw three ponies, high and empty saddles turquoise studded, lift their heads from their roadway browsing. For a moment they stood, stiff with terror; then whimpering raced away. We were at Norhala’s door; were lifted down; stood close’ to its threshold. Slaves to a single thought, Drake and I sprang to enter. “Wait!” Norhala’s white hands caught us. “There is peril there— without me! Me you must—follow!” Upon the exquisite face was no unshadowing of wrath, no diminish-, ing of rage, no weakening of dreadful determination. The &tar-flecked eyes were not upon us; they looked over and beyond—coldly, cal. culatingly. | a enough,” I heard' her whisper. “Not enough—for that which I will do.” We turned, following her gaze. A hundred feet on high, stretching nearly across the gorge, an incredible curtain was flung. Over its folds was movement—arms of spinning globes that thrust forth like paws and down upon which leaped pyramid upon pyramid stiffening as they clung like bristling spikes of hair; great bars of clicking cubes that threw themselves from the shuttering—shook and withdrew. The cur- tain was a ferment— shifting, mercurial; it throbbed’ with desire, pal- pitated with eagerness. | “Not enough!” murmured Norhala. Her lips parted; from them came another trumpeting—tyrannic, arro- gant and clangorous. Under it the curtaining writhed—out from it ECOMC OOO (GO)