Still the roaring grew; the radiance streamed⁠—ever faster we went. Cutting down through the length, the extension of me, dropped a wall of rock, foreshortened, clenched close; I caught a glimpse of the elfin gardens; they whirled, contracted, into a thin⁠— slice ⁠—of colour that was a part of me; another wall of rock shrinking into a thin wedge through which I flew, and that at once took its place within me like a card slipped beside those others!

Flashing around me, and from Lakla and O’Keefe, were nimbuses of flickering scarlet flames. And always the steady hurling forward⁠—appallingly mechanical.

Another barrier of rock⁠—a gleam of white waters incorporating themselves into my⁠— drawing out ⁠—even as were the flowered moss lands, the slicing, rocky walls⁠—still another rampart of cliff, dwindling instantly into the vertical plane of those others. Our flight checked; we seemed to hover within, then to sway onward⁠—slowly, cautiously.