The radiant energy in the thing that was Noorlythin was awful. It beat and flared redly through the whiteness. The McCanahan shuddered as its heat beat out at him, chilling even as it seared.
Courage, Terran! Courage for what lies ahead!
And now the voices shrank and whispered, piping like elfin horns within his head, that none but he could hear.
Through you, we may destroy him! Courage! With your help, he dies—forever!
He knew what he had to do. Of his free will he had to offer himself to Noorlythin! Of his free will, he had to fling himself into the mad embrace of those pulsing tendrils, that had turned Lunol the peddler to black and drifting dust!
He gave you to the Eye of Lirflane! He gave you to the cat-woman and her whip!
The McCanahan snarled. "Destroy him, and I save the Solar Combine! I hear you, Doyen. I hear and I—obey!"
And Kael McCanahan flung himself headlong, forward into the white whirlwind of force that was Noorlythin.
In the Chamber of Living Death, she who had been Slyss of Aakan quivered fitfully. A bubble of froth broke from her red lips. She moaned and stirred. A hand lifted, struggled feebly, fell back to her side, limp and waxen.