ed again, a huddled heap,among her butterflies.
	Kenton, to him now clear all the black priest's plot, letthe lever go; raced to the farther door of bronze, thrustthe wedged key into it; slipped past the slowly openingedge, and ran down the passageway it had barred. Twoflames burned in him as he raced along that passage-whiteflame of love for his woman, black flame of hate againstKlaneth. He knew that wherever the Priest of Bel wasbound there must be Sharane. The end-unless Kentoncould reach the Bower of Bel in time and conquer-in-evitable.                         Narada had repented-but too late! The black priest hadgambled-and the black priest had won! Kenton cursed as he ran. If Sharane, meshed in en-sorcelled dream, saw the Priest of Bel as the god himself-still would she have taken earthly lover! Her innocencecould not save her. Klaneth would see to that.
	And if Sharane should awaken-God! Would she notin the dawn of that awakening take the Priest of Bel forhim-for Kenton! But either way-the presence of priest and priestess inBel's Bower would be enough to damn them both. Yes-Klaneth would see to that.
	He crossed a traverse passage: ran blindly down a slop-ing corridor along whose sides glared guarding chimera;  stopped in front of a wide portal from which hung, mo-tionless and rigid, folds that seemed carved from solidsilver. Caution whispered to him; he put out a hand,parted the metallic curtainings, peered within. . . .
	He looked into his own room.
	There it lay before him, his old room in his old world! He saw the jeweled ship, glimmering, glittering-but asthough he saw it through a fog; through a mist of fieryparticles, half veiling it. The long mirror glinted behindthat same luminous vapor. Infinitely small, in infinite num-bers, the sparkling atoms hung between him and thatroom of his-back in New York! And he-here in this strange world! Misty was the room, nebulous, quivering now intoplainer sight; now withdrawing into indefiniteness.
	And as he stared at it, incredulous, the old bleak de-spair clutching him, he felt within his hands the curtainsgrow light as silken gauze, stiffen back into metal-al-ternately; slip from his hands, strengthen within themas his room steadied in the sparkling mist, dissolved withinit into phantom outlines! Yet ever as his room swung inward clearer, swung backdimmer, the outlines of the jeweled ship hardened, crys-tallized, shone forth brighter-summoning him, dragginghim back!


24. The Gods-And Man's Desire

	KENTON braced himself; he held tight to the cur-tons. He fought with all his will to check their melting.The curtains were like bars between his old world andthis of his great adventure.
	A force, a pull like a strong undertow, dragged himforward each time they melted in his hands and the nebu-  Sous outlines of his room crisped into steadiness. Plainlyhe could pick out every detail of that room, the long mir-ror, the cabinets, the divan-the stains of his blood still wet upon the floor.
	And always, whether room were melting mist or clearoutline, the jeweled ship shining steadily-watchful.
	Now he swung out and over that room; the ancientChinese rug on its floor was below him-at once closeand infinite distances away. He heard the first voices ofthose shrieking winds of space! In that brief instant he realized that it was the shining toy itself drawing him back! Something was reaching up and out to him from thedark deck of the ship! Something malignant and mocking-dragging him, dragging him to it! Darker grew the black deck-stronger its pull--"Ishtar!" he prayed, gaze upon the rosy cabin. "Ishtar!"Did the cabin flash as though filled with sudden light?"The outlines of his room melted; again the curtainswere heavy in his hands; he stood once more on firm feetat the threshold of the House of the Moon God.
	Once, twice, thrice more the room pulled back-but eachtime less real, more spectral. And against each pulse Ken-ton set his will; closed eyes and thrust away the vision of it with all his strength.
	His will won. The room vanished; in that envanish-ment a finality not to be mistaken. The spell was broken, the subtle links snapped.
	Caught by the reaction he clung to the curtains, kneesweak and shaking. Slowly he found himself, resolutely parted the folds.
	He looked now into a vast hall filled with mist of argentlight; still was this mist, yet palpable-as though the raysthat formed it were woven. Interlaced and luminous, thewebbed mist made of the chamber a home of immensities,of tremendous distances. He thought, but was not sure,that there was motion within these silver webs-shadowyshapes half appearing, vanishing, never quite coming intofull sight. Far away he caught another movement; a figurewas coming forward; steadily, inexorably. It drew closer,slowly; it swam into sight-a man, golden-helmeted, overhis shoulder a short cloak of gold shot through with scarlet,in his hand a golden sword; head bent, pushing on asthough against some strong current.
	 It was the Priest of Bel clad in the raiment of his god! Scarce breathing, Kenton watched him. The eyes so likehis own were black with dread and awe-yet filledwith will and purpose; indomitable. The mouth was set, thelips white, and in all the priest's body Kenton sensed atremor, a shuddering-deep as the priest's soul. Whetherreal or but phantoms, he knew the terrors of this placewere realities to this strange double of his.
	The Priest of Bel passed, and Kenton, waiting until hewas half hidden in the shining mists, slipped throughthe curtains, followed him.
	Now Kenton heard a voice; a still voice, passionless asthat which had bidden him arise from his bed of stone; and like that voice neither was it in the place wherein hetrod nor within him. It was as though borne to him out offarthest space . ..
	The voice of Nabu, God of Wisdom! Listening, he felt himself not one man, but three-asingle purposed Kenton who followed the priest and wouldfollow him through hell so he led to Sharane; a Kentonwho, tied by some inexplicable link to the mind of thepriest, felt and saw and heard, suffered and feared evenas he; and a Kenton who hearkened to the words ofNabu as coldly, as dispassionately as they were uttered,watched as coldly, as detachedly, all they pictured.
	"The House of Sin!" the voice rang. "Chief of theGods! Nannar! Begetter of Gods and men! Lord of theMoon! Lord of the Brilliant Crescent! Great of Horns!Nannar Perfect of Form! Decreer of Destiny! Self Created!Whose House is the first of the Zones and Whose Coloris Silver! "He passes through the House of Sin! "He goes by the altars of chalcedon and of sard whichare set with the great moonstones and with rock crystals,the altars where burn the white flames from which Sinthe Fashioner created Ishtar! He sees the pale and shiningserpents of Nannar writhe toward him and from the silvermists that veil the crescented horns of sin he sees thewinged white scorpions dart upon him! "He hears the sound of the tramping of myriads offeet, the feet of all the men to be born beneath the Moon!And he hears the sound of the sobbing of myriads ofwomen, the sobbing of all the women to be born and tobear! He hears the clamor of the Uncreate!  "And he passes!"For lo! Not the Begetter of Gods nor the awe of him may stand before man's desire!" So the voice rang-and was silent. And Kenton sawall these things, saw the shimmering white serpents writhethrough the silver mists and strike at the priest; sawthe winged scorpions dart upon him; visioned within themists a vast and awful shape upon whose cloudedbrows the crescent of the moon was bound. In his ownears he heard the tramping of armies of the unborn, thesobbing of worlds of women yet unborn, the clamor ofthe Uncreate! Saw and heard-even, he knew, as did thePriest of Bel! And followed.
	The golden helm flashed high above him. Kentonpaused at the base of a winding stairway whose broadsteps circled upward, changing as they arose from pallidsilver to glowing orange. He waited until the priest-neverhastening, never looking back-had ascended; he passedinto the place to which the stairway led; slipped after him.
	He looked into a temple filled with crocused light evenas that through which he had just come had been filledwith webs of moonbeams. A hundred paces away marchedthe priest, and as Kenton moved on the still voice resumed its whispering: "The House of Shamash! Offspring of the Moon! Godof the Day! Dweller in the House of Luster! Banisher ofDarkness! King of Judgment! Judge of Mankind! OnWhose Head Resteth the Crown with the High Horns! InWhose Hands are Life and Death! Who cleanseth Manwith His Hands like a Tablet of Burnished Copper! WhoseHouse is the Second of the Zones and Whose Color isOrange! "He passes through the House of Shamash! "Here are the altars of opal set with diamonds and thealtars of gold set with amber and the yellow sunstones.Upon the altars of Shamash burn sandalwood and carda-mon and verbena. He goes by the altars of opal and ofgold; and he goes by the birds of Shamash whose headsare wheels of flame and who guard the wheel that turnswithin the House of Shamash and is a potter's wheelupon which all the souls of men are shaped.
	"He hears the noise of myriads of voices, the wailing  of those who have been judged and the shouting of thosewho have been judged! "And he passes! "For lo! Not the King of Judgment nor the fear ofhim may stand before man's desire!" Again Kenton saw and heard all these things; and fol-lowing the priest came to a second stairway whose stepsmerged from glowing orange into ebony black. And stillfollowing he stood, at last, in a great hall of gloom, thename of whose dread master he knew even before thestill voice came murmuring to him out of hidden, secretspace: "The House of Nergal! The Mighty One of the GreatDwelling Place! King of the Dead! He who Scattereth thePestilence! He Who Ruleth over the Lost! The Dark Onewithout Horns! Whose House is the Third of the Zonesand Whose Color is Black! "He passes through the House of Nergal! "He goes by Nergal's altars of jet and of bloodstone!He goes by the red fires of civet and of bergamot thatburn thereon! He goes by the altars of Nergal and thelions that guard them! The black lions whose eyes are asrubies and whose claws are blood red, the red lions whoseclaws are as black iron and whose eyes are as jet; and hepasses the sable vultures of Nergal whose eyes are ascarbuncles and whose heads are the fleshless heads ofwomen! "He hears the whimpering of the People of the GreatDwelling Place and he tastes the ashes of their passion!"And he passes! "For lo! Not the Lord of the Dead nor the dread ofhim may swerve man from his desire!" Now the steps of the stairway by which Kenton ascendedfrom the House of Nergal faded from ebon into crimson,and fiery, wrathful scarlet was the light that filled theplace in which he stood, watching the Priest of Bel gosteadily on.
	"The House of Ninib!" whispered the voice. "Lord ofSpears! Lord of the Battle! Master of the Shields! Masterof the Hearts of Warriors! Ruler of the Strife! Destroyerof Opposition! Breaker of the Lock! The Smiter! WhoseColor is Scarlet, Whose House is the Fourth of the Zones!"Of shields and of spears are builded the altars of Niniband their fires are fed with the blood of men and the  tears of women, and upon the altars of Ninib burn thegates of fallen cities and the hearts of conquered kings!He goes by the altars of Ninib. He sees threaten himthe crimson fangs of the boars of Ninib whose headsare wreathed with the right hands of warriors, the crimsontusks of the elephants of Ninib whose feet are ankletedwith the skulls of kings, and the crimson tongues of thesnakes of Ninib which lick up the cities! "He hears the clashing of spears, the smiting of swords,the falling of walls, the crying of the conquered! "And he passes! "For lo! Since ever man was, the altars of Ninib havebeen fed with the fruits of man's desire!" Upon the fourth stairway he set his feet; ascendedsteps that ran from the vermilion of licking flame to theclear serene blue of untroubled skies, stood within a cham-ber all filled with calm, azure light. Closer now seemedthe voice.
	"The House of Nabu! Lord of Wisdom! Bearer of theStaff! Mighty One of the Waters! Lord of the Fields WhoOpeneth up the Subterranean Streams! The Proclaimer!He who Openeth the Ears of Understanding! WhoseColor is Blue and Whose House is the Fifth of the Zones! "The altars of Nabu are of blue sapphire and of emeraldand from them shine clear amethysts! The flames thatburn on the altars of Nabu are blue fires in whose lightonly the truth has shadow! And the flames of Nabu arecold flames nor is there any scent over his altars! Hepasses by the altars of sapphire and of emerald and theircold fires! He passes the fishes of Nabu which havewomen's breasts but silent mouths! He passes the seeingeyes of Nabu which look forth from behind his altars andhe touches not the staff of Nabu which holdeth up withwisdom the feet! "Yea-he passes! "For lo!-when did Wisdom stand before man's de-sire!" Up from the blue of Nabu's House went the priest,and behind him on a stairway that merged from sapphireinto rosy pearl and ivory climbed Kenton. Little, caressingtendrils of incense reached out to him as he went and allabout him beat little languorous, linked notes of amoroussound; coaxing, calling, infinitely alluring, perilously sweet.Slowly, slowly Kenton followed him, listening to the voice,  yet half heeding it, half forgetful of his quest, strugglingwith a vast desire to heed the calling, linked and amorousmusic; surrender to the spirit of this ensorcelled chamber-go no further-forget-Sharane! "The House of Ishtar!" came the voice. "Mother of theGods and of Men! The Great Goddess! Lady of the Morn-ing and of the Evening! Full Bosomed! The Producer!She who Hearkeneth to Petition! The Mighty Weapon ofthe Gods! She who Slays and She Who Creates Love!Whose Color is Rose-pearl. And the House of Ishtar isthe Sixth of the Zones! "He passes through the House of Ishtar! Of white marbleand of rose coral are her altars and the white marble isstreaked with blue like a woman's breast! Upon her altarsbum ever myrrh and frankincense, attar and ambergris!And the altars of Ishtar are set with pearls both whiteand rose, with hyacinths and with turquoise and withberyls! "He goes by the altars of Ishtar, and, like the pinkpalms of maidens desirous, the rose wreaths of the in-cense steal toward him. The white doves of Ishtar beattheir wings about his eyes! He hears the sound of themeeting of lips, the throbbing of hearts, the sighs of women,and the tread of white feet! "Yet he passes! "For lo! Whenever did Love stand before man's desire!" From that chamber of amorous witcheries the stairwayclimbed, reluctant; shifting from its rosy pearl to flaming,flashing gold. And scaling it he stood within another vastplace radiant as though it were the heart of the sun.Faster and faster the priest of Be! moved onward asthough here all his terrors were concentrated, were crowd-ing upon his hurrying heels! "The House of Bel!" Rang the voice. "Merodach! Rulerof the Four Regions, Lord of the Lands! Child of theDay! Bull Necked! Elephant Thewed! Mighty One! Con-queror of Tiamat! Lord of the Igigi! King of Heavens and of Earth! Bringer of Things to Completeness. Lover of Ishtar.
	"Bel-Merodach, Whose House is the Seventh of theZones, and Whose Color is Golden!"Swiftly he passes through the House of Bel! "The altars of Bel are of gold and rayed like the sun!On them burn the golden fires of the summer lightnings  and the smoke of the incense hangs over them like theclouds of the thunderstorm! The Kerubs whose bodies arelions and whose heads are eagle heads, and the Kerubswhose bodies are bulls and whose heads are the heads ofmen guard the golden altars of Bel, and both are wingedwith mighty wings! And the altars of Bel are reared uponthews of elephants and are held upon the necks of buijsand the paws of lions! "He goes by them! He sees the fires of the lightningssink and the altar shake! In his ears is the sound ofworlds crushed by the fist of Bel; of worlds breakingbeneath the smiting of Bel! "Yet he passes! "For lo! Not even the Might of God may crush thedesire of man!" The voice ceased, it seemed to retreat to those farregions whence it had come. In its withdrawal Kentonsensed finality; knew it would sound no more for himthere; that now he was thrown on his own wit andstrength; must captain his own way henceforward.
	Out from one side of the House of Bel jutted a squaredbuttress, perpedicular, fifty feet or more wide. It thrustitself into this temple within a temple like the giganticpier of a bridge. Its top was hidden.
	Down its smooth facade darted a broad and angledstreak of gold that Kenton for an instant took to be acolossal ornament, a symboling of the darting lightning boltof Bel. Closer he came to it, following the priest. And nowhe saw that the golden streak was no ornament. It was astairway, fashioned to represent the leaping levin but-astairway. A stepped stairway of sharply angled flights that,clinging to the mighty buttress wall, climbed from the floorof the House of Bel up to-what? At the foot the priest of Bel faltered; for the first timehe looked behind him; seemed half moved to retreat. Thenwith the same despairing gesture of defiance with whichhe had turned from the altar, he began to creep cau-tiously, silently up the angled stairs.
	And Kenton, waiting again, until he was but a shadowin the shining mists, followed.


25. In The Bower Of Bel

	THE TEMPEST had struck. Kenton, climbing, heardthunderings like the clashing of armied shields; clangingof countless cymbals, tintamarre of millions of gongs ofbrass. Ever louder grew the clangor as he ascended; withit mingled now the diapason of mighty winds, staccato ofcataracts of rain.
	The stairway climbed the sheer wall of the buttress asa vine a tower. It was not wide-three men might marchabreast up it; no more. Up it went, dizzily. Five sharpangled flights of forty steps, four lesser angled flights offifteen steps he trod before he reached its top. Guardingthe outer edge was only a thick rope of twisted goldsupported by pillars five feet apart.
	So high was it that when Kenton neared its end andlooked down he saw Bel's house only as a place of goldenmists-as though he looked from some high mountainledge upon a valley whose cloudy coverlet had just beentouched by rays of morning sun.
	The clinging stairway's last step was a slab some tenfeet long and six wide. Upon it a doorway opened-anarrow arched portal barely wide enough for two men topass within it side by side. The doorway looked out, overthe little platform, into the misty space of the inner temple.
	The hidden chamber into which it led rested upon thehead of the gigantic buttress.
	One man might hold that stair end against hundreds.The doorway was closed by a single fold of goldencurtains as heavy and metallic as those which had coveredthe portal of the Moon God's Silver House. Involuntarilyhe shrank back from parting them-remembering whatthe parting of those argent hangings had revealed to him, He mastered that fear; drew a corner of them aside.
	He looked into a quadrangular chamber, perhaps thirtyfeet square, filled with the dancing peacock plumes of  the lightnings. He knew it for his goal-Bel's place ofpleasance where Kenton's love waited, fettered by dream.
	He glimpsed the priest crouched against the furtherwall, rapt upon a white veiled woman standing, armsstretched wide, beside a deep window close to the cham-ber's right hand corner. The window was closed by onewide, clear crystal pane on which the rain beat and thewind lashed. With thousands of brushes dipped in littleirised flame the lightnings limned the loves of Bel broid-ered on hangings on the walls.
	In the chamber were a table and two stools of gold; amassive, ivoried wooded couch. Beside the couch was a.wide bellied brazier and a censer shaped like a great hourglass. From the brazier arose a tall yellow flame. Uponthe table were small cakes, saffron colored, in plates ofyellow amber and golden flagons filled with wine. Aroundthe walls were little lamps and under each lamp a ewerfilled with fragrant oil for their filling.
	Kenton waited, motionless. Danger was gathering belowhim like a storm cloud with Klaneth stirring it in wizard'scaldron. Perforce he waited, knowing that he must fathomthis dream of Sharane's-must measure the fantasy inwhich she moved, mind asleep, before he could awakenher. The blue priest had so told him.
	To him came her voice: "Who has seen the beatings of his wings? Who hasheard the tramplings of his feet like the sound of manychariots setting forth for battle? What woman has lookedinto the brightness of his eyes?" There was a searing flash, a clashing of thunder-within the chamber itself it seemed. When his own sighthad cleared he saw Sharane, hands over eyes, gropingfrom the window.
	And in front of the window stood a shape, loominggigantic against the nickering radiance, and helmed andbucklered all in blazing gold-a god-like shape! Bel-Merodach himself who had leaped there from hissteeds of storm and still streaming with his lightnings' So Kenton for one awed instant thought-then knewit to be the Priest of Bel in the stolen garments of his god.
	The white figure, that was Sharane, slowly drew handsfrom eyes; as slowly let them fall, eyes upon that shiningform. Half she dropped to her knees, then raised herself  proudly; she searched the partly hidden face with herwide, green dreaming eyes.
	"Bel!" she whispered, and ag