Others like it raced into view, pausing as they saw Garth and his companions. The first stepped forward. He had no mouth, but a circular diaphragm below and between his eyes vibrated rapidly, forming recognizable words. "_Al-khron ghanro ssel 'ri--_" It was the Ancient Tongue, which Garth had learned five years before, and never forgotten. It came back to him easily now. He was beginning to remember other things, too. These creatures--he had seen them before. The Zarno-- "We come in peace." He raised one hand, his nerves jolting, waiting for the answer. Presently it came. "You are not a god. The others with you are not gods. We are the Zarno; we destroy. We guard the house of the gods till they return." Another of the silicate creatures pushed forward. "Do you not know this being, Kharn? Eight _ystods_ ago he came here with another like him. Do you remember?" Kharn nodded slowly. "That is true. We did not slay them then, for we thought they were messengers from the gods. They pretended to be--we were not sure. This one escaped. The other went into the Darkness." The other? Doc Willard? Garth felt his throat tighten. "The--Darkness? What is that?" "The place from which only the gods return," Kharn said slowly. Did he mean--death? Before Garth could ask, the second Zarno spoke. "They must be taken and sacrificed, Kharn." Garth took out his gun. "Wait," he said sharply, as the Zarno moved forward. "We have weapons. We can destroy you." "You do not speak the truth. Only the gods can destroy us. Ages ago they came here and built their temple and taught us to be wise. When they left us, we stayed on, to guard the sacred places." Garth's mouth felt dry. "We _are_ messengers from the gods--" he declared. "It is not true." Kharn began to walk forward. "Take them!" Garth knew he had lost. * * * * * It was like a nightmare, the steady, relentless approach of the monstrous beings. Garth held his gun leveled. His arm tightened around Paula's shoulders. "Keep back," he commanded, conscious of the uselessness of the words. Instead, Kharn and the others walked on. The creature's shining arm lifted, clamped on Garth's shoulder. He fired. Kharn did not seem to feel the bullet, though it had not missed. Garth squeezed the trigger again. The pistol jolted against his palm. The Zarno were--invulnerable! Garth fought, nevertheless. He could see the silicate men lifting his companions like sacks of meal, hoisting them to gleaming shoulders, and carrying them, unresisting, through the forest. Paula was torn from his grasp. Cursing, he struck out at Kharn's impassive, inhuman face with the revolver-butt. Useless! Nothing could harm these creatures of living stone. Ignoring his struggles, Kharn prisoned Garth's arms and lifted him. Helpless, Garth was carried after the others. He forced himself to relax. A fury of impotent rage flooded him.