For the thing that crouched in the weird green dusk was a living mass of shuddering horror, a ghastly mountain of sensate, quivering flesh, whose tentacles, far-flung in the dim reaches of the subterranean cavern, emitted a strange humming sound, while from the depths of the creature’s body came a weird and horrific ululation. Then I fell back into Fo-Lan’s arms. My mouth opened to cry out, but I felt the doctor’s firm hand clapped across my lips, and from a great distance I seemed to hear his voice.
“That is Lloigor!”
Fo-Lan’s story was true!
I found myself suddenly in Fo-Lan’s apartment. I know I must have climbed the long winding steps, but I do not remember climbing them, for the tumultuous thoughts that troubled me and the hideous memory of the thing I had seen served to drive from my mind all consciousness of what I was doing.
Fo-Lan came quickly away from the wall and stood before me, his face triumphant in the green lamplight. “For three years I have helped them penetrate into the earth, into the caverns below, have helped them in their evil purpose; now I shall destroy them, and my dead brother will be avenged!” He spoke with an intensity I had not imagined him capable of.
He did not wait for any comment from me. Passing beyond me, he put the lamp down on a small table near the door. Then he went into the bedroom and lit another lamp; I saw its green light on the wall as he came once more into the room where I stood.
“Mind,” said Fo-Lan as he stood before me, “is all-powerful. Mind is everything, Eric Marsh. This evening you saw things of which you hesitated to speak, even before you saw the thing in the cavern below — Lloigor. You saw leaves move on trees — and they moved by the power of evil intelligences far below them, deep in the earth — a living proof of the existence of Lloigor and Zhar.
“E-poh has a mind of great power, but the knowledge I have endows me with greater power despite his tremendous age. Long hours I have sought to penetrate cosmic space, and so powerful has my mind become that even you could see the thought-thread that wavered upward from Alaozar last night! And mind, Eric Marsh, exists independent of body.
“I will wait no longer. Tonight I will go forth, now, while the worship is in progress. And you must watch my body.”
Colossal as his plan was, I could only believe. What I had seen during the short space of my visit was unbelievable, impossible, yet was!
Fo-Lan continued. “My body will rest on the bed in the chamber beyond, but my mind will go where I wish it with a speed incomparable to anything we know. I will think myself on Rigel, and I shall be there. You must watch that none disturbs my body while I am gone. It will not be long.”
Fo-Lan drew from his voluminous robe a small pistol, which I recognized immediately as one I had been carrying in my pack. “You will kill any one who tries to enter, Eric Marsh.”
Beckoning me to follow him, Fo-Lan led the way into his chamber, and despite my feeble protest, stretched himself on the bed. Almost at once his body went rigid, and at the same moment I saw a gray outline of Fo-Lan standing before me, a smile on his thin lips, his eyes turned upward. Then he was gone, and I was alone with his body.
For over an hour I sat in Fo-Lan’s apartment, my terror mounting with each second. Only in that hour was I capable of approaching in my thoughts the cataclysmic horror which confronted the world if Fo-Lan were unsuccessful in his daring quest. Once, too, while I sat there, pattering footsteps halted beyond the outer door; then, to my unspeakable relief, passed on. Toward the end of my watch, the abrupt cessation of the chanting sounds from below, followed by the noises of movement throughout the island city, indicated that the worship was over. Then for the first time I left the chamber to take up my position at the outer door, where I stood, gun in hand, waiting for the interruptions my terrified mind told me must come.
But I never had cause to use the weapon, for suddenly I heard the sound of feet behind me. I whirled — and saw Fo-Lan! He had
returned. He stood quietly, listening; then he nodded to himself and said, “We must leave Alaozar, Eric Marsh. Alone, we can not do it, and we have little time to waste. We must see E-poh, and have his permission to go beyond to the Plateau of Sung.”
Fo-Lan moved forward now, and tugged at a long rope which hung quite near me along the wall. From somewhat far below there came the abrupt clang of a gong. Once more Fo-Lan pulled the rope, and again the gong sounded.
“That is to inform E-poh that I must speak to him about an urgent matter — concerning the things below.”
“And your quest?” I asked. “Has it been successful?”
He smiled wryly. “It will be successful only if I can convince E-poh to open the way for Lloigor and Zhar and their countless hordes tonight — now! The way must be open, otherwise even the Star-Warriors are helpless to penetrate Earth.”
The sound of running feet in the corridor cut short my questions. The door opened inward and on the threshold I saw two of the Tcho-Tcho people, dressed in long green robes and wearing on their foreheads curious five-pointed star designs. They ignored me completely, addressing themselves to Fo-Lan. A rapid conversation in their strange language followed, and in a moment the two little people turned to lead the way.
Fo-Lan started after them, motioning me to follow. “From E-poh,” he whispered. Then he added in a quiet voice, “Be careful and speak no English before E-poh, for he understands it. Also, be certain you still have the gun, for E-poh will not let us go beyond Alaozar without an escort. And those little people you and I will have to kill.” We went rapidly down the corridor, and after a long descent, found ourselves on the street level, and deep in the tower. At last we entered an apartment similar in many respects to Fo-Lan’s, but neither so small nor so civilized in its aspect. There we confronted E-poh, surrounded by a group of little people dressed similarly to our guides. Fo-Lan bowed low, and I did the same under the stress of those curious little eyes turned on me.
E-poh was seated on a sort of raised dais, suggestive of his leadership, but beyond the evidence of his great age in his lined face and his withered hands, and the servile attitude of the Tcho-Tcho people near him, there was no indication that he was the ruler of the little people around us.
“E-poh,” said Fo-Lan, speaking in English for my benefit, “I have had intelligence from those below.”
E-poh closed his eyes slowly, saying in a strange whistling voice, “And this intelligence — what is it, Fo-Lan?”
Fo-Lan chose to ignore his question, “Lloigor and Zhar themselves have spoken to my mind!” he said.
E-poh opened his eyes and looked at the doctor in disbelief. “Even to me Zhar has never spoken, Fo-Lan. How can it be that he has spoken to you?”
“Because I have fashioned the way, mine have been the hands that groped below and found Lloigor and those others. Zhar is greater than Lloigor, and of greater age, and his word is law to those below.”
“And what has Zhar communicated to you, Fo-Lan?”
“It is written below that tonight is the time when the buried ones wish to come forth, and it is decreed that the servants of E-poh must go beyond Alaozar, beyond the Lake of Dread to the Plateau of Sung, there to await the coming of the Old Ones from below.”