“Taken!” I gasped. “Taken by what—these?” I swept my hands out toward the Metal Things milling around us.
“No! THESE are mine. These are they who obey me.” The golden voice now shrilled with her passion. “Taken by—men!”
Drake had read my face although he could not understand our words.
“Ruth—”
“Taken,” I said. “Both Ruth and Ventnor. Taken by the armored men—the men of Cherkis!”
“Cherkis!” She had caught the word. “Yes—Cherkis! And now he and all his men—and all his women—and every living thing he rules shall pay. And fear not—you two. For I, Norhala, will bring back my own.
“Woe, woe to you, Cherkis, and to all of yours! For I, Norhala, am awake, and I, Norhala, remember. Woe to you, Cherkis, woe—for now all ends for you!
“Not by the gods of my mother who turned their strength against her do I promise this. I, Norhala, have no need for them—I, Norhala, who have strength greater than they. And would I could crush those gods as I shall crush you, Cherkis—and every living thing of yours! Yea—and every UNLIVING thing as well!”
Not halting now was Norhala's speech; it poured from the ruthless lips—flamingly.
“We go,” she cried. “And something of vengeance I have saved for you—as is your right.”