No, ours, ours, sang ten voices. Ours, ours, he's ours!
His fingers twitched. His jaws spasmed. His eyelids jerked.
At last, at last, sang a high voice. Now, now. The long time, the waiting. Over, over, sang the high voice. Over, over at last!
It was like being undersea. Green songs, green visions, green time. Bubbled voices drowning in deep liquors of sea tide. Far away choruses chanting senseless rhymes. Leonard Sale stirred in agony.
Mine, mine, cried a loud voice. Mine, mine! shrieked another. Ours, ours! shrieked the chorus.
The din of metal, the crash of sword, the conflict, the battle, the fight, the war. All of it exploding, his mind fiercely torn apart!
Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!
He leaped up, screaming. The landscape melted and flowed.
