ehind the veils, in the Pit of the Metal Monster?
What was the message of the roaring drums? What the rede of their
clamorous runes?

Ventnor stepped by the sentinel globe, bent over the tranced girl.
Sphere nor pointed pair stirred; only they watched him--like a palpable
thing one felt their watchfulness. He listened to her heart, caught up
a wrist, took note of her pulse of life. He drew a deep breath, stood
upright, nodded reassuringly.

Abruptly Drake turned, walked out through the open portal, his strain
and a very deep anxiety written plainly in deep lines that ran from
nostrils to firm young mouth.

"Just went out to look for the pony," he muttered when he returned.
"It's safe. I was afraid it had been stepped on. It's getting dusk.
There's a big light down the canyon--over in the valley."

Ventnor drew back past the globe; rejoined us.

The blue bower trembled under a gust of sound. Ruth stirred; her brows
knitted; her hands clenched. The sphere that stood before her spun on
its axis, swept up to the globe at her head, glided from it to the globe
at her feet--as though whispering. Ruth moaned--her body bent upright,
swayed rigidly. Her eyes opened; they stared through us as though upon
some dreadful vision; and strangely was it as though she were seeing
with another's eyes, were reflecting another's sufferings.

The globes at her feet and at her head swirled out, clustering against
the third sphere--three weird shapes in silent consultation. On
Ventnor's face I saw pity--and a vast relief. With shocked amaze I
realized that Ruth's agony--for in agony she clearly was--was calling
forth in him elation. He spoke--and I knew why.

"Norhala!" he whispered. "She is seeing with Norhala's eyes--feeling
what Norhala feels. It's not going well with--That--out there. If we
dared leave Ruth--could only, see--"

Ruth leaped to her feet; cried out--a golden bugling that might have
been Norhala's own wrathful trumpet notes. Instantly the two pyramids
flamed open, became two gleaming stars that bathed her in violet
radiance. Beneath their upper tips I saw the blasting ovals
glitter--menacingly.

The girl glared at us--more brilliant grew the glittering ovals as
though their lightnings trembled on their lips.

"Ruth!" called Ventnor softly.

A shadow softened the intolerable, hard brilliancy of the brown eyes. In
them something struggled to arise, fighting its way to the surface like
some drowning human thing.

I