His face worked in a peculiar contortion. He took half a step backwards and then, before we could stop him, flung himself into the darkened chamber, straight at the corpse-white creatures! They gibbered and fell back for a moment, a terrible twittering noise, like that of thousands of bats, filling the air and echoing on and on through the complex of chambers. Bac Puri's sword swung to left and right, up and down, slicing off limbs, stabbing vitals, piercing the unnaturally soft, clammy bodies. And then he was, as if by magic, a mass of spears. He howled in his pain and madness as javelins like the one we had seen earlier appeared in every part of his body until it was almost impossible to distinguish the man beneath. He fell with a crash. Seeing the creatures were at least mortal, I decided we should take advantage of Bac Puri's mad attack and, waving my sword, I leapt through the entrance, shouting: 'Come - they can be slain!' They could be slain, but they were elusive creatures and sight and feel of them brought physical revulsion.
