Part 1 (2/2)

A dim flame flickered in the dark eyes

'I was Xaltotun,' he whispered 'I am dead'

'You _are_ Xaltotun!' cried Orastes 'You are not dead! You live!'

'I am Xaltotun,' came the eery whisper 'But I aia, there I died'

'And the priests who poisoned you ans intact!' exclaiain! The Heart of Ahriman has restored your life, drawn your spirit back from space and eternity'

'The Heart of Ahrier 'The barbarians stole it from me!'

'He remembers,' muttered Orastes 'Lift him from the case'

The others obeyed hesitantly, as if reluctant to touch the man they had recreated, and they seemed not easier in their minds when they felt firm muscular flesh, vibrant with blood and life, beneath their fingers But they lifted him upon the table, and Orastes clothed hiold stars and crescent old fillet about his te the black wavy locks that fell to his shoulders He let the, not even when they set hih ebony back and wide silver arolden claws

He sat there rew in his dark eyes and -sunken witchlights floated slowly up through lance at his co in uest Their iron nerves had withstood an ordeal that ht have driven weaker s that he conspired, but e was as profound as their lawless ambitions and capacity for evil He turned his attention to the figure in the ebon-black chair And this one spoke at last

'I re Nemedian with a curious, archaic accent 'I ah priest of Set in Python, which was in Acheron The Heart of Ahriain--where is it?'

Orastes placed it in his hand, and he drew breath deeply as he gazed into the depths of the terrible jewel burning in his grasp

'They stole it froht it is, strong to save or to dao

While I held it, none could stand before me But it was stolen froia Much I reotten I have been in a far land, across ulfs and unlit oceans What is the year?'

Orastes answered hi of the Year of the Lion, three thousand years after the fall of Acheron'

'Three thousand years!' ? Who are you?'

'I am Orastes, once a priest of Mitra This man is Amalric, baron of Tor, in Ne of Nehtful heir of the throne of Aquilonia'

'Why have you given me life?' demanded Xaltotun 'What do you require of me?'

Thethe working of an unclouded brain There was no hesitation or uncertainty in his manner He caives so Orastes met him with equal candor

'We have opened the doors of hell this night to free your soul and return it to your body because we need your aid We wish to place Tarascus on the throne of Nemedia, and to win for Valerius the crown of Aquilonia With your necromancy you can aid us'

Xaltotun's mind was devious and full of unexpected slants

'You must be deep in the arts yourself, Orastes, to have been able to restore my life How is it that a priest of Mitra knows of the Heart of Ahrier a priest of Mitra,' answered Orastes 'I was cast forth froic But for Aician

'But that left me free to pursue ia, and ales of Khitai I read the iron-bound books of Skelos, and talked with unseen creatures in deep wells, and faceless shapes in black reeking jungles I obtained a glius in the deiant-walled teia, and I learned of the arts that would bring back life to your shriveled corpse Fro manuscripts I learned of the Heart of Ahri-place, and at last I found it'