The Fantasy Fan, Volume 2, Number 6, February 1935: The Fan's Own Magazine — John Shaqi
The Fantasy Fan, Volume 2, Number 6, February 1935: The Fan's Own MagazineVarious
History
The Fantasy Fan, Volume 2, Number 6, February 1935: The Fan's Own Magazine
Various
Fan magazines; Fantasy fiction -- History and criticism -- Periodicals; Fantasy fiction -- Periodicals
He stood for a few moments more, his fascination for the unbelievable
shadow holding him there; then he swung away and went over to the
work-bench, where he lit a lamp and began to thumb swiftly through a
group of the old books lying carelessly abandoned there.
Tenny followed, asking, "Can I help?"
The older man nodded. "Check up on all references to magical designs in
these books," he said. "I've got an idea. I don't know what's in it,
but it's worth trying."
It was Follansbee who found what they sought. "Here it is," he said
suddenly. "Magical designs on glass. It's been marked up by someone,
too--Kroll, most likely. Parts of it are illegible, but the sense of it
can be made out. Third paragraph down in the second column."
Tenny bent to read the printed lines on the yellow page:
"Certain mages have brought into being worlds of glass--invisible in
glass, the objects of such consistency that though they cannot be seen
in the light of the sun, they are shadowed by the moon.... The glass is
of no ordinary kind, but must be specially made. And the creatures to
be placed there may be drawn from the mind or from life."
"You see?" cut in Follansbee, drawing the book away. "That's what
he was doing--but something happened. He tried it on himself, and
vanished."
Tenny turned astonished eyes on the glass in the window.
Follansbee abruptly left the work-bench and, going over to the window,
raised it. "It's the upper pane we want," he murmured. "It must be
broken--there's no other way. But be careful that all the pieces fall
into the room."
As he spoke, the older man pulled down the upper half of the window.
Then he drew the curtain down outside the glass, and into the room
again below.
"All right," he said. "Break it, Fred."
Tenny rapped sharply against the glass of the upper pane. It did not
break. He struck it harder with the trident from the work-bench. Still
it did not break. Then he smashed into it with all his strength. The
glass broke into incredibly small fragments that slithered down the
drawn curtain to the floor.
Follansbee let the curtain snap up. Looking down, he and Tenny
exclaimed simultaneously. The window lay in silver fragments on the
carpet in the moonlight that stretched to the bed--but beyond the
fragments ran a tiny dark shadow, of substance now.
"Good God!" breathed Follansbee hoarsely. "_The dimensions didn't
change!_"
"It's Kroll," said Tenny. He swooped to seize hold of the figure on the
carpet, but at that moment it disappeared under the bed. He sank to his
knees. "Kroll!" he shouted. "Come out, Kroll!"
There was a vague scuttering noise beneath the bed.
Follansbee came to his knees at Tenny's side and peered into the
moonlit dusk beneath the bed. "Kroll" he whispered softly. Turning
abruptly, he said to Tenny, "Get over on the other side. He's skirting
the wall toward the door."
Tenny moved to obey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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