The suggestion of sphere had been an illusion, born of the darkness in which we were moving and in its own luminescence.
And I saw that the steel tongue was a ramp, a slide, dropping down into the gulf.
Norhala raised her hands high above her head.

Up from the darkness flew an incredible shape--like a monstrous, armored flat-backed crab; angled spikes protruded from it; its huge body was spangled with darting, greenish flames.
It swept beneath us and by.

On its back were multitudinous breasts from which issued blinding flashes--sapphire blue, emerald green, sun yellow.
It hung poised as had that other nightmare shape, standing out jet black and colossal, rearing upon columnar legs, whose outlines were those of alternate enormous angled arrow-points and lunettes.

Swiftly its form shifted; an instant it hovered, half disintegrate.
Now I saw spinning spheres and darting cubes and pyramids click into new positions.

The front and side legs lengthened, the back legs shortened, fitting themselves plainly to what must be a varying angle of descent beyond.
And it was no chimera, no kraken of the abyss.