Beside us raced O'Keefe and Olaf.

At our left was the black road.

It stopped abruptly--was cut off by a slab of polished crimson stone a hundred feet high, and as wide, set within the coppery face of the barrier.

On each side of it stood pillars, cut from the living rock and immense, almost, as those which held the rainbow veil of the Dweller.

Across its face weaved unnameable carvings--but I had no time for more than a glance.