The Time Trap Read Free Page B

“We shall not speak of him.” She sank down beside the altar, stretching like a cat. The leopards watched silently. Nirvor eyed Mason from half-lowered lids, pale ash-blonde lashes sweeping her cheeks.
    “It has been lonely here,” she said. “Sit down, Mason.”
    He obeyed. The woman went on.
    “Long and long have I waited. The Master has promised to return me to my own time, to aid me in rebuilding my dead city, marble Corinoor. But in the meantime I wait among these barbarians—I wait, and I worship Selene, and my leopards guard me … they, too, were captured by the time-towers when I was.” A slim hand caressed the furry jaw of the black beast. From half-closed eyes it peered at her, growling softly.
    “They are wise, Mason—Bokya and Valesta. Long before Corinoor fell our scientists had evolved certain creatures, and the sacred leopards were wisest of all. Remember, Mason—Bokya and Valesta are very wise…”
    With a lithe movement Nirvor moved close to Mason. She whispered, “But I grow tired of wisdom. I am—woman”
    Slim arms stole about Mason’s neck. Nirvor’s perfumed breath was warm in the man’s nostrils, a perfumed madness that mounted headily to his brain. His throat was dry and clamped.
    He bent his head, pressed his lips against Nirvor’s scarlet ones. When he drew back he was trembling a little.
    “Mason,” the woman whispered. Her eyes met and locked with the man’s. And, for the second time, Mason saw something alien in them.
    A cold, cruel, distant something that made him draw back involuntarily, appalled by the subtle horror in Nirvor’s eyes. Mason could not understand exactly what repulsed him; he was not to know this until much later. But he knew, with a dreadful certainty, that the woman was a Horror…
    Her lips were suddenly twisted with menace. But she choked back a flood of words, stood up, and Mason stood up beside her. This time she did not let her gaze meet the man’s. She lifted pale hands to her throat, unbuckled the clasp that held the robe. It slipped down rustling to her feet.
    Mason tried to look away—and found he could not. Nirvor might be evil—but she was a goddess indeed, a marble Galatea sprung to life and instinct with passion. She stepped forward; her bare arms went about Mason’s neck.
    Setting his jaw, he tore them free, thrust the woman back. Remembrance of the inexplicable strangeness in Nirvor’s eyes was too strong.
    “You say you come from the future,” Mason whispered, gripping the woman’s wrists. “How do I know what—creatures—may exist then?”
    She caught the implication. Fury blazed in the jet eyes. She tore free, sprang back, shrilled an angry command.
    “Slay him, Bokya— slay! ”
    The black leopard sprang erect. It crouched, stalking slowly toward Mason.
    A voice said sharply, “This man is the Master’s, Nirvor. Slay him—and you die!”

Chapter III

Vengeance of the Master
    Mason turned his head, saw Erech, the Sumerian, at the door. The man came striding swiftly down the ramp, his cold eyes harsh.
    “Hear me? Nirvor—”
    The silver priestess hissed shrilly. The black leopard hesitated, slunk back to its place. Nirvor turned blazing eyes on the Sumerian.
    “Since when have you commanded me? ”
    “I speak for the Master,” Erech said smoothly, with an undertone of faint mockery. “And I do not think that even you care to defy him.”
    With an angry gesture Nirvor turned away, touched the altar. Again the pallid moon-fires sprang up. The Sumerian said, “I shall not speak of this episode to Greddar Klon. Nor would I advise you to do so.”
    The priestess made no reply, and Erech gripped Mason’s arm, nodding toward the door. Silently Mason followed the other. Once they were in the corridor Erech blew out a long breath of relief.
    “She’s a demon, Ma-zhon—she and her familiars, those giant cats. Come along!” He pulled Mason with him till they reached the Sumerian’s apartment. There, safely ensconced on