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Merritt, Abraham, 1884-1943

"The Moon Pool"

And there Yolara gripped herself; the hell that seethed
within her soul leaped out of her eyes, a cry, a shriek of rage, tore
from her lips.
As at a signal, the Shining One flamed high; its spirals and eddying
mists swirled madly, the pulsing core of it blazed radiance. A score
of coruscating tentacles swept straight upon the pair who stood
intrepid, unresisting, awaiting its embrace. And upon me, lurking
behind them.
Through me swept a mighty exaltation. It was the end then--and I was
to meet it with them.
Something drew us back, back with an incredible swiftness, and yet as
gently as a summer breeze sweeps a bit of thistle-down! Drew us back
from those darting misty arms even as they were a hair-breadth from
us! I heard the Dweller's bell notes burst out ragingly! I heard
Yolara scream.
What was that?
Between the three of us and them was a ring of curdled moon flames,
swirling about the Shining One and its priestess, pressing in upon
them, enfolding them!
And within it I glimpsed the faces of the Three--implacable,
sorrowful, filled with a supernal power!
Sparks and flashes of white flame darted from the ring, penetrating
the radiant swathings of the Dweller, striking through its pulsing
nucleus, piercing its seven crowning orbs.


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