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Merritt, Abraham, 1884-1943

"The Moon Pool"


Livid now was the gateway's guardian, his great frame shaking.
"Come with me and speak to Yolara," he pleaded. "There came no
message--tell her--"
"Wait, Serku!" There was a thrill as of inspiration in Rador's voice.
"This _corial_ is of the swiftest--Lakla's are of the slowest. With
Lakla scarce a _va_ ahead we can reach her before she enters the
Portal. Lift you the Shadow--we will bring her back, and this will I
do for you, Serku."
Doubt tempered Serku's panic.
"Why not go alone, Rador, leaving the strangers here with me?" he
asked--and I thought not unreasonably.
"Nay, then." The green dwarf was brusk. "Lakla will not return unless
I carry to her these men as evidence of our good faith. Come--we will
speak to Yolara and she shall judge you--" He started away--but Serku
caught his arm.
"No, Rador, no!" he whispered, again panic-stricken. "Go you--as you
will. But bring her back! Speed, Rador!" He sprang toward the
entrance. "I lift the Shadow--"
Into the green dwarf's poise crept a curious, almost a listening,
alertness.


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