Абрахам Меррит - The Face In The Abyss

A girl stood there, just beyond the top of a broad flight of steps dropping from the alcove, a girl with white hands clasped tightly to her breast, red lips parted in wonder, soft black eyes staring at him incredulously—

"Graydon!" she cried, and took a swift step toward him. "Suarra!" the warning voice was lisping, tinglingly pure, in it the trilling of birds. A pillar of shimmering mother–of–pearl shot up behind the girl; over her shoulder peered a face, heart–shaped, coifed with hair like spun silver, purple–eyed—

The Snake Mother!

"Let us see who are these visitors who come so unceremoniously in the train of your man," she lisped, "and by a way I thought surely none now in Yu–Atlanchi knew."

She raised a little hand, in it a sistrum within whose loop, instead of bars, a glistening globule danced like quicksilver.

Regor stifled an exclamation and dropped upon his knees, the others hastily following suit with the exception of the spider–men, who stood quietly watching. Graydon hesitated, then also knelt.

"Ah, so you have remembered your manners!" there was faint mockery in the tinkling voice. "Come nearer. By my ancestors—it is Regor—and Huon…and since when did you don Lantlu's green, Notalu? It is long since you bent the knee to me, Regor."

"That is not my fault, Mother!" began Regor, indignantly. "Now that is not just—"

A trilling of laughter silenced him.

"Hot–tempered as ever, Regor. Well, for a time at least, you shall have much practice in that neglected duty. You too, Huon, and the others of you—"

Graydon heard the giant groan with relief, saw his scarred face light up; his bellow interrupted her.

"Homage to Adana! We are her men now!" He bent until his bandaged brow touched the floor.

"Yes!" said the Mother, softly, "but for how long—ah, that even I cannot tell…" She dropped the hand that held the quivering globe, bent further over Suarra's shoulder, beckoned to Graydon—"Come up to me. And do you shut that door behind you, Regor."

Graydon walked to the alcove, mounted the steps, his fascinated eyes upon the purple ones fixed upon him so searchingly. As he drew close, the Serpent–woman moved from behind the girl, the shimmering pillar from which sprang her childish body between him and Suarra. And he felt again that curious, deep–seated throb of love for this strange being—like a harp string in his heart which none but she could pluck. He knelt again, and kissed the tiny hand she held out to him. He

looked up into her face, and it was tender, all age–old weariness gone, her eyes soft—and he had not even memory of those doubts which had risen in the Painted Cavern; so strong her witchery—if witchery it was.

"You have been well brought up, child," she murmured. "Nay, daughter— "she glanced at Suarra, mischievously, "be not disturbed. It is only to my years that he does reverence."

"Mother Adana—" began Suarra, face burning—

"Oh, go over there and talk, you babes," the scarlet, heart–shaped lips were smiling. "You have much to say to each other. Sit on the golden thrones, if you like. What were you thinking then, Suarra's man? That a golden throne was symbol to you of journey's end? Surely, you were. Why it should be, I do not know—but that was your thought. Well then, take one."

Graydon, beginning to rise, dropped back on his knee. When she had spoken of the golden thrones lines of an old negro spiritual had cropped up in his head—

When I'm through with this weary wanderin', When I'm through, Lawd! I'll sit on a golden throne—

The Snake Mother was laughing. She beckoned Suarra. She took the girl's hand and put it in Graydon's. She gave them a little push away.

"Regor," she called. "Come to me. Tell me what has happened."

Swinging his bar, marching jauntily, Regor approached. Suarra drew Graydon back to a nest of curtains at the rear of the alcove. He watched Regor mount beside the Serpent–woman, saw her bend her head to him, prepare to listen. Then he forgot them entirely, absorbed in Suarra, overflowing with concern for him, and curiosity.

"What did happen, Graydon?" her arm slipped round his neck. "We had gone quickly, and were close to the cataract. It was very noisy, but I thought I heard your weapon. I hesitated, thinking to return. But there was no further sound, so I went on. And Regor and the others— how did they get their wounds?"

"Lantlu sacked the lair. Huon was betrayed by Dorina. Lantlu took Huon and matched him against one of his cursed Xinli. We rescued him. Huon killed Dorina," he told her, staccato.

"Dorina betrayed him! He killed her!" Her eyes widened.

"She was an aunt of yours, in some way, wasn't she?" he asked.

"Oh, I suppose so—in a way—long, long ago," she answered.

And suddenly he determined to settle once for all that question which had been tormenting him—he'd find out if she was one of these "deathless ones" or just the normal girl she seemed…if she was like the rest of them, then he'd have to accept the fact he loved a girl old enough to be his great–grandmother, maybe—if she wasn't, then he didn't give a damn about all the rest of the puzzles—

"See here, Suarra," he demanded, "how old are you?" "Why, Graydon, I'm twenty," she answered, wonderingly. "I know," he said, "but do you mean you're twenty, or that you were twenty, the Mother alone knows how many years ago, when you closed those infernal Gates, whatever they may be, on yourself?"

"But, beloved," said Suarra, "why are you so disturbed? I've never gone into the Chamber of the Gates! I'm really twenty—I mean not staying twenty, but getting older every year."

"Thank God!" exclaimed Graydon, fervently, a load rolling from his mind. "Now after the good news, comes the bad. Lantlu, and most of Yu– Atlanchi, I gather, are out hunting for us at this very moment."

"Oh, but that doesn't matter," said Suarra, "now that the Mother has accepted you."

Graydon had his doubts about the accuracy of that, but he did not trouble her with them. He began the tale of his adventures. In the middle of his first sentence he heard a hissing exclamation from the Serpent–woman; heard Regor rumble—

"It is truth. Kon found him there."

He looked toward them. The Snake Mother's eyes were upon him. She beckoned him; and when he stood beside her she raised herself, swayed forward until her face was almost touching his.

"The Shadow, Graydon—tell me of it. From the moment you saw it appear upon the black throne. Nay wait—I would see while you tell me—" she placed a hand upon his forehead—"now speak."

He obeyed, going step by step over his ordeal. He lived it again; so vivid were the pictures of it that it was as though his brain were a silver screen upon which a camera unreeled them. At his recital of the death of Cadok he felt the hand upon his forehead tremble; he spoke of Kon, and the hand dropped away.

"Enough!"

She drew back; she regarded him, thoughtfully; there was something of surprise in her gaze, something of wonder—something, the odd idea came to him, of the emotion a mathematician might feel if in a mass of well studied formulae he should suddenly come across an entirely new equation.

"You are more than I thought, Graydon," she echoed that odd ideation. "Now I wonder…up from the gray ape–men you came…yet all I know of men is from those who dwell here … what else have you developed, you who have grown up beyond our barrier…I wonder…"

Silent again, she studied him; then—"You thought the Shadow real—I mean, no shadow, no shade, not—immaterial—"

"Material enough, substantial enough to pour itself into Cadok," he interrupted. "Substantial enough to destroy him. It poured into Cadok like water in a jar. It sucked from him—life. And for—ten heartbeats—the Shadow was no Shadow, Mother. If indeed you saw into my mind you know whose face it wore." "I saw," she nodded. "Yet still I cannot believe. How can I believe when I do not know—" She stopped; she seemed to be listening. She raised her self upon her coils until her head was a full foot above tall Regor. Her eyes were intent, as though she looked beyond the walls of that great chamber. She dropped back upon her coils, the rosy pearl of her body slowly deepening.