It quivered and sped away. Swiftly dwindled the City's bulk; fast faded its glimmering watchful face. Not toward the veils of light but out over the plain we flew. Above us, crouching against the blast of our going, streamed like a silken banner Norhala's hair, gemmed with the witch lights. We were far out now, the City far away. The cube slowed. Norhala threw high her head. From the arched, exquisite throat pealed a trumpet call--golden, summoning, imperious. Thrice it rang forth--and all the surrounding valley seemed to halt and listen. Followed upon its ending, a chanting as goldenly sonorous. Wild, peremptory, triumphant. It was like a mustering shouting to adventurous stars, buglings to buccaneering winds, cadenced beckonings to restless ranks of viking waves, signaling to all the corsairs and picaroons of the elemental. 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 even higher reached the following wave. Now we were rising upon a steep slope; now the amethystine, gleaming ring was almost overheard. 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 diminishing of rage, no weakening of dreadful determination. The star-flecked eyes were not upon us; they looked over and beyond--coldly, calculatingly. “Not enough,” I heard her whisper. “Not enough--for that which I will do.”