Magos stood beyond, his face contorted into a mask that had only a faint humanity in it. And the power in him-Ray could feel it aimed at them-at the Loving One. Yet the monster was out of his control.
“Devil!” Magos screamed.
“Drinker of blood,” Cho returned. “Listen now to this beast of yours. I think it hungers. And is not true that when it comes to your call, it must be fed, one way or another? Behold-the reckoning!”
The Loving One, as if goaded beyond endurance, sprang-not at the Murians but at the priest. Its tentacles closed about Magos with the grim grip of a trap. The priest tore one arm free and thrust at the obscene roundness of the slug body. His dagger sank into the black hide, but when it was withdrawn again, there � was no trace of a wound on the sleek skin. And all the while the Loving One fed.
Ray’s head fell back on Cho’s arm. He had been too close to that himself to watch now. But the Murian did -r not look away, and when the monster would have turned at last, Cho held it with the beam.
There was one scream. Cho’s arm tightened about y the American. Then the Murian raised the crystal for the last time.
“It is done,” he said. “Now we destroy the doer.”
Ray looked once more. A tattered bundle of stained rags lay upon the stone. Above that oozed the monster, and it was crooning to itself. Just as Magos’s rage had earlier reached to them, so did now a horrible satisfaction.
The light became a sharp sword of radiance. At its touch the creature ceased to croon its contentment and moved uneasily. Then it whined, shrilly, its plaint hurting in one’s head.
Now the beam changed color, from white to faint rose, from rose to red. Then it rippled, as if rising in ever strengthening waves from a concealed source. And in Ray’s body he felt the rhythm of that rippling.
While the Loving One twisted, writhed, its whining became a vibration, too high for human ears to catch any longer. Then it started to dissolve. Its outlines blurred; a black pool oozed slowly from under it. And the stench was a sickness in the air.
Still Cho held the light steady on that writhing bulk. Once the creature seemed to make a last desperate effort to survive. Its head lifted, the body heaved as if to hurl itself at the Murian, but the light chained it fast.
So it perished, the body becoming a pool of liquid corruption, which, in turn, was consumed by the ray. Then there was a shouting on the platform, echoed from the street below.
“The city falls,” Cho said. “They throw down swords and call for mercy. And now-we must see to your wounds, brother-”
Another Murian in armor went to his knees beside the American. Under that helmet, surely-Ray frowned -a face he had seen. Yes-this was he who had led the prisoners.
“You-then Taut did as he promised-”
“Surely, lord, and better-” began the other, but Cho shook his head.
“Time for talking later. This now-” He smeared a paste across Ray’s breast. “Now, a cloak about you. We must get you into the hands of the Naacals as soon as we can-”
“Lord!” One of the Murians spoke; his hand rested on Uranos’s shoulder. “What of this Atlantean?”
“Cho.” Ray summoned what small strength he still possessed. “This is the real Poseidon, Uranos-their .their prisoner, too. Listen to him-”
“That shall be done.”
Ray sank back on the cloak. The invading party here .;
was a small one, eight Murrain and four wild-looking rogues who might have come from Taut’s own ship. Uranos knelt beside him.
“Warriors’ high salute to you, comrade. And for your courtesy in remembering me-my thanks. Of the Atlanteans taken-I do not think that one will find .