Some of the larger Proktols brought a huge metal disc, perhaps three feet in diameter. A hole was in the center. They put it over Ketrik's head and it rested on his shoulders.
"I don't like the looks of that," Janus muttered tensely. "What are they going to do?"
But they weren't through. Next, over Ketrik's head they placed a spacious wire cage which clicked into place on the rim of the disc.
"My God!" Blake said suddenly, staring. "Do you suppose they're going to run some kind of voltage through that thing?"
"That's a nice pleasant thought!" Janus snapped at him.
Devries turned away from them both. He knew better. "No," he told Blake hoarsely. "No, not that. Better come away."
But they couldn't come away. Horror, especially an unknown horror, has a fascination. They saw some of the Proktols seemingly in consultation. Presently a couple of them hurried away, and all that could be heard from that massed throng was a gentle murmuring as they swayed restlessly, waiting.
Then in the room behind them they heard the electrical crackling in the doorway cease. V'Naric stood before them again, ever watchful with the flame-pistol.
"That was a very noble effort on the part of your friend," he said, "but quite useless as you can see. Moreover, he killed some of my men, and I do not think he helped the rest of you by that." His eyes glittered. "Yes, before the Ritual ends this time I think all of you will have participated."
"We haven't got your damned Shining Stone," Blake grated through clenched teeth, "and we never even heard of it!"