Down from the horizontal plane of each whipped the long and writhing tentacles.
At the foot of every one I could now perceive a heap of some faintly glistening material.

The tendrils coiled among this, then drew up something that looked like a thick rod of crystal.

The bent planes straightened; simultaneously they thrust the crystalline bars toward the incandescences.
There came a curious, brittle hissing.

The ends of the rods began to dissolve into dazzling, diamond rain, atomically minute, that passing through the egg-shaped lights poured upon the periphery of the pedestal.
Rapidly the bars melted.

Heat there must be in these lights, terrific heat--yet the Keeper's workers seemed impervious to it.
As the ends of the bars radiated into the annealing mist I saw the tentacles creep closer and ever closer to the rayless flame through which the mist flew.