Out of it, through the long transverse slit through which the Silent Ones kept their watch on cavern, bridge, and abyss, a torrent of the opalescent light was pouring. It cascaded like a waterfall, and as it flowed it spread whirling out, in columns and eddies, clouds and wisps of misty, curdled coruscations. It hung like a veil over all the islands, filtering everywhere, driving back the crimson light as though possessed of impenetrable substance⁠—and still it cast not the faintest shadowing upon our vision.

“Good God!” breathed Larry. “Look!”

The radiance was marching⁠— marching ⁠—down the colossal bridge. It moved swiftly, in some unthinkable way intelligently . It swathed the Akka, and closer, ever closer it swept toward the approach upon which Yolara’s men had now gained foothold.