Then they broke rank, turned and ran. They _ran_, blundering into
stools, leaving havoc of upset benches and broken crockery in their
wake. One man barged into the counter, swore and ran on, limping. I let
my breath go. Something had put the fear of God into those brutes, and
it wasn't my own ugly mug. I turned and saw the girl.
She was slight, with waving hair like spun black glass, circled with
faint tracery of stars. A black glass belt bound her narrow waist like
clasped hands, and her robe, stark white, bore an ugly embroidery across
the breasts, the flat sprawl of a conventionalized Toad God, Nebran. Her
features were delicate, chiseled, pale; a Dry-town face, all human, all
woman, but set in an alien and unearthly repose. The great eyes gleamed
red. They were fixed, almost unseeing, but the crimson lips were curved
with inhuman malice.
She stood motionless, looking at me as if wondering why I had not run
with the others. In half a second, the smile flickered off and was
replaced by a startled look of--recognition?
Whoever and whatever she was, she had saved me a mauling.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35