"What do you want with me?" his voice was strained, the lips rigid. "Ah, you are afraid, _Larree_." There was diabolic jubilation in the words. "What should I want but that you return with me? Why else did I creep through the lair of the dragon worm and pass the path of perils but to ask you that? And the _choya_ guards you not well." Again she laughed. "We came to the cavern's end and, there were her _Akka_. And the _Akka_ can see us--as shadows. But it was my desire to surprise you with my coming, Larree," the voice was silken. "And I feared that they would hasten to be first to bring you that message to delight in your joy. And so, _Larree_, I loosed the _Keth_ upon them--and gave them peace and rest within the nothingness. And the portal below was open--almost in welcome!" Once more the malignant, silver pealing of her laughter. "What do you want with me?" There was wrath in his eyes, and plainly he strove for control. "Want!" the silver voice hissed, grew calm. "Do not Siya and Siyana grieve that the rite I pledged them is but half done--and do they not desire it finished? And am I not beautiful? More beautiful than your _choya_?" The fiendishness died from the eyes; they grew blue, wondrous; the veil of invisibility slipped down from the neck, the shoulders, half revealing the gleaming breasts. And weird, weird beyond all telling was that exquisite head and bust floating there in air--and beautiful, sinisterly beautiful beyond all telling, too. So even might Lilith, the serpent woman, have shown herself tempting Adam! "And perhaps," she said, "perhaps I want you because I hate you; perhaps because I love you--or perhaps for Lugur or perhaps for the Shining One." "And if I go with you?" He said it quietly. "Then shall I spare the handmaiden--and--who knows?--take back my armies that even now gather at the portal and let the Silent Ones rot in peace in their abode--from which they had no power to keep me," she added venomously. "You will swear that, Yolara; swear to go without harming the handmaiden?" he asked eagerly. The little devils danced in her eyes. I wrenched my face from the smothering contact. "Don't trust her, Larry!" I cried--and again the grip choked me. "Is that devil in front of you or behind you, old man?" he asked quietly, eyes never leaving the priestess. "If he's in front I'll take a chance and wing him--and then you scoot and warn Lakla." But I could not answer; nor, remembering Yolara's threat, would I, had I been able. "Decide quickly!" There was cold threat in her voice. The curtains toward which O'Keefe had slowly, step by step, drawn close, opened. They framed the handmaiden! The face of Yolara changed to that gorgon mask that had transformed it once before at sight of the Golden Girl. In her blind rage she forgot to cast the occulting veil. Her hand darted like a snake out of the folds; poising itself with the little silver cone aimed at Lakla.