The Hill of Horror
We climbed up the last few yards to the summit, and gazed across toward
the dim blue cliffs that rimmed this world on the north. We stood on a
great divide. A vast valley lay before us, stretching away until it was
veiled with a faint rosy haze. The curious checkered expanse of green
plain and purple woodland sloped far, far away to the north. Perhaps
twenty miles away was the vague outline of a great silver lake, dyed
with the light of the crimson sky.
Just back of the lake seemed to be a shore of low black cliffs. And
beyond those ragged peaks, and beneath the towering and rugged columns
of blue that threw themselves up to the bloody sky, was a strange sight
indeed!
There was a weird flicker of dancing lights in that far-flung crimson
mist, as if it reflected strange infernal fires in a pit behind the
low black wall. There were faint and moving gleams of violet--of pale
violet flames that changed and rose and fell. Vague tongues of violet
fire wove themselves throughout that distant rose-colored mist, with a
writhing, rhythmic motion. They formed curious shapes of flame, that
faded strangely and came again!
But my description is futile. The important thing was not what we saw,
but what we _felt_! A curiously unpleasant sensation of helplessness,
and of strange horror, came over me. I felt as if I were stealing
a forbidden glimpse of an ancient and incredible hell! Fear swept
over me--alien, inconceivable terror--like a keen and bitter wind
that numbed my brain! I felt the horror of a sentient force, utterly
inhuman, devoid of all human knowledge or understanding, as cold and
remote as the frozen night of space!
It was terrible--an intangible _aura_ of fear that reached out of that
pit and tugged at our souls with the icy hand of stark horror! I can
give the world no conception of the overwhelming terror of it! Nor
would I if I could, for such things are better forgotten. I dropped
my rifle and clenched my hands, trembling. I braced my feet as though
against the force of a physical wind that was striving to carry me
toward that abyss of nebulous horror-light!
I looked at Sam. He stood very still, leaning back, with hands raised
and jaw dropped. In his eyes was the look of the fresh and innocent
soul that struggles with a pitiless terror that it cannot know or
understand! Such a look I had never seen before--and God grant that I
may never see it again!
My gaze was drawn irresistibly back into that mantle of moving light.
Even as I watched, a pillar of green flame, very bright and broad,
thrust itself up through the wavering mist of violet fire, and into
the crimson haze. It was like the slender head of some obscene green
reptile. It reached up--incredibly! It writhed and twisted about! It
_was_ like a great serpent of fire. And it _saw_ us!
It grew still with awful attention. Eternities seemed to pass as the
dreadful thing hung there, motionless, like a vast frozen pillar of
twisted emerald flame, like a column of curdled green fire, with
curious throbbing changes in its brightness. I felt a weird force
flowing out of it. And I knew that it was _watching us_!
"My God!" Sam muttered. "My God!" I looked at him again. His thin face
was very white, and beaded with perspiration. He was mechanically
mopping at his forehead with the red handkerchief, and staring at the
mist of flame with the glaze of terror upon his eyes.
I struggled mightily to throw off the spell of amazement and terror--of
alien and unutterable horror--that was grasping at my mind. It was a
heart-breaking effort. I moved. I seized Sam's arm and shook it. He
swayed drunkenly, with his eyes still on the awful lights. He was like
one in a trance--like a man in a dream of death!
And I felt those icy fingers of unthinkable doom closing about my own
mind. I was paralyzed again, with my eyes drawn back to the north.
The snake's head of frozen green still throbbed strangely, and the
flickering violet aurora still kept up its storm of varying motion, in
the dim rosy haze into which the awful head was lifted.
Something was reaching toward us, out of the pit! I knew there was
intelligence in it--a _will_, inhuman, and unthinkably strong! It was
calling us, compelling us! I knew that in a few moments we could fight
no more.
Suddenly a low sobbing sound reached us on that warm, humid south wind,
a sound that wailed uncertainly behind us, and rose to a piercing
shriek, and slowly died away into the distant south, echoing weirdly on
hills and trees as it rolled and sank.
Sam started with a hoarse cry, and went off down the hill toward the
north at a stumbling run--toward that abyss of alien horror! A moment
more I struggled desperately, but that pitiless power overwhelmed me! I
followed in his tracks!
And then, a clear rich voice reached me from beyond the hill--a shout
in Xenora's rich and ringing tones. It had a clear human overtone of
confidence and courage. "Come back, Melvin Dane! Come back, Sam!"
The old scientist stopped uncertainly, passing his hand dazedly before
his brow. Abruptly the terror was gone from my mind! The love and the
courage of the brave girl flowed into me. And suddenly, with the green
light still pulsing through it, as though sent by a mighty heart, the
terrible thing in the north dimmed slowly and faded away! Still the
violet lances flickered through the rosy mist, but the green thing was
gone--and we were free!
I took Sam's hand, and we turned our backs on the amazing play of fire
above the incredible pit, and hastened to the trees from which Xenora's
voice had seemed to come. We reached the little grove, but I did not
see the girl. Suddenly I had the persuasion that I had not actually
heard her with my ears, after all!
"Xenora! Xenora! Are you here?" I called uncertainly.
Sam was still trembling and mopping at his forehead. "She wasn't really
here, I think, Mel," he presently said in a strained voice. "She must
have reached us with telepathy."
For a long time then we stood there under the flowering trees--very
close together, feeling all the awful mystery of the strange world
about us--and thinking of what had happened.
"What was it?" My silent lips at last formed the question.
"'The Lord of Flame!' Xenora said. 'The Lord of Flame!' 'A serpent
of green fire that dwells in Xath below Mutron!'" Sam repeated
mechanically. "I would to God I knew what it is!"
"And what was that awful sound?"
"That was the siren of the Omnimobile, I think. You know we showed
Xenora how to operate it. Probably that saved us, by attracting our
minds from the Thing while Xenora reached us."
"Then if we go toward it----"
At the instant the wild, sobbing shriek rose again, very welcome for
all the wailing qualities of its tones. In a moment we were hastening
down the green hillside among the purple trees, in the direction from
which the sound had come. Twice we heard it again. And in half an hour
we saw the glint of the silver metal side of the machine beyond a
thicket of purple bloom!
I have seen few more welcome sights than the Omnimobile was then. The
heaviness of it, the threatening nose of the little gun, the air of
irresistible power about it, and even its clumsy, beast-like appearance
were reassuring. Sam gave a cheer, and we made the last hundred yards
at a run. At last we stumbled up the metal ladder and stood upon the
narrow deck again.
We clambered through the manhole. The white electric light of the
interior was in strange contrast to the crimson gloom, and the coolness
of the air was very refreshing. Xenora was in the cabin, anxiously on
her feet.
"It was the Lord of Flame!" she whispered. "And you escaped!"
"Thanks to you, my dream girl," I said, taking her boldly in my arms.