THE SEVEN JEWELS OF CHAMAR
By RAYMOND F. JONES
Scattered, they flamed like distant suns, maddening
the beholder. United, they became a godlike power
for the glory of the Solar System. But, their
flame lances still white-hot from killing, young
Ormondy and the fabulous Firebird learned how
impossible was the price of that power.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The bearded giant, Thymar Ormondy, raised stiffly on one arm from the bed of litter on the damp cave floor. He pointed the charred stub of his other arm at his son.
"Beware the Firebird!" His voice was distorted with pain. "She'll kill a thousand men for every one of the Seven Jewels of Chamar."
Nathan Ormondy threw back his rain cape and knelt beside his dying father. The great hulk of the old man sank back upon the rags.
"Did she do this?" Nathan demanded fiercely. His eyes filled with flame at the sight of the terrible wound that had come from a shot in the back.
Thymar lay without answering. His eyes were closed. Nathan heard only the hushing sound of the eternal Venusian rains that blotted out the distant hills like a ragged curtain hung over the mouth of the cave.