From d856ebca7ce2d32a2fa09a91f45b51a17fa283d7 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Roger Frank Date: Wed, 15 Oct 2025 05:16:55 -0700 Subject: initial commit of ebook 1329 --- old/1329-0.txt | 12618 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ old/1329-0.zip | Bin 0 -> 214236 bytes old/1329-h.zip | Bin 0 -> 228073 bytes old/1329-h/1329-h.htm | 16141 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ old/old/1329-h.htm | 16118 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ old/old/1329-h.htm.2017-05-18 | 16139 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ old/old/vrctr10.txt | 12891 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ old/old/vrctr10.zip | Bin 0 -> 211317 bytes 8 files changed, 73907 insertions(+) create mode 100644 old/1329-0.txt create mode 100644 old/1329-0.zip create mode 100644 old/1329-h.zip create mode 100644 old/1329-h/1329-h.htm create mode 100644 old/old/1329-h.htm create mode 100644 old/old/1329-h.htm.2017-05-18 create mode 100644 old/old/vrctr10.txt create mode 100644 old/old/vrctr10.zip (limited to 'old') diff --git a/old/1329-0.txt b/old/1329-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9252432 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1329-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12618 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost +no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it +under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Voyage to Arcturus + +Author: David Lindsay + +Release Date: September 17, 2008 [EBook #1329] +[Last updated: September 22, 2021] + +Last Updated: March 5, 2017 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS *** + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + + + +A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS. + +By David Lindsay + + + +CONTENTS + + + +Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE + +Chapter 2. IN THE STREET + +Chapter 3. STARKNESS + +Chapter 4. THE VOICE + +Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE + +Chapter 6. JOIWIND + +Chapter 7. PANAWE + +Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN + +Chapter 9. OCEAXE + +Chapter 10. TYDOMIN + +Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN + +Chapter 12. SPADEVIL + +Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST + +Chapter 14. POLECRAB + +Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND + +Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE + +Chapter 17. CORPANG + +Chapter 18. HAUNTE + +Chapter 19. SULLENBODE + +Chapter 20. BAREY + +Chapter 21. MUSPEL + + + +Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE + +On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a fast- +rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at Prolands, +the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was illuminated only +by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with indolent +curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were exchanged. +Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, the South +American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric light was +switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, metallic-looking +skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not seem greatly to +impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from a special +angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the merchant. As he +tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the smoke of a +cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the pointed +beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view of +the morbid nature of his occupation. + +“Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the conversation. “No? +Then will you take a drink?” + +“Not at present, I thank you.” + +A pause. + +“Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?” + +“I see no reason to doubt it.” + +“That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I have +your check written out in my pocket.” + +“Afterward will do quite well.” + +“Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?” + +“I fancy so.” + +The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and +remained apathetic. + +“Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?” + +“I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.” + +“I mean the decoration of the siance room, the music, and so forth.” + +Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical +performance.” + +“That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be ladies +present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.” + +“In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the +performance to the end.” + +He spoke rather dryly. + +“Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his cigar into the +fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. + +“Will you come and see the room?” + +“Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time +arrives.” + +“Then let’s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the drawing +room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as I am +unmarried.” + +“I will be delighted,” said Backhouse coldly. + +They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive +attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium +took in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, +and wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely, +with just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at +the hands of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them. + +“What amazes me,” she half whispered, after ten minutes of graceful, +hollow conversation, “is, if you must know it, not so much the +manifestation itself—though that will surely be wonderful—as your +assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your +confidence.” + +“I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the door, “and +others see my dreams. That is all.” + +“But that’s beautiful,” responded Mrs. Jameson. She smiled rather +absently, for the first guest had just entered. + +It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd judicial +humour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carry +into private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes +were still disconcertingly bright. With the selective skill of an old +man, he immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of many +comfortable chairs. + +“So we are to see wonders tonight?” + +“Fresh material for your autobiography,” remarked Faull. + +“Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old public +servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. You +have no cause for alarm—I have studied in the school of discretion.” + +“I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your publishing +whatever you please.” + +“You are most kind,” said the old man, with a cunning smile. + +“Trent is not coming tonight,” remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing a curious +little glance at her brother. + +“I never thought he would. It’s not in his line.” + +“Mrs. Trent, you must understand,” she went on, addressing the ex- +magistrate, “has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has +decorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has secured +the services of the sweetest little orchestra.” + +“But this is Roman magnificence.” + +“Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference,” +laughed Faull. + +“Surely, Mr. Backhouse—a poetic environment...” + +“Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to +elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my opinion. +Nature is one thing, and art is another.” + +“And I am not sure that I don’t agree with you,” said the ex-magistrate. +“An occasion like this ought to be simple, to guard against the +possibility of deception—if you will forgive my bluntness, Mr. +Backhouse.” + +“We shall sit in full light,” replied Backhouse, “and every opportunity +will be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also ask you to submit +me to a personal examination.” + +A rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival of +two more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the prosperous +City coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well known in his own +circle as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted +with the latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine +and tobacco smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into +the proceedings. Finding that no one seconded his efforts, however, he +shortly subsided and fell to examining the water colours on the walls. +Lang, tall, thin, and growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse +a good deal. + +Coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone partook, +except Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor Halbart was +announced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author and lecturer on +crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental +aspects. His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other +guests, but all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately +acquired additional solemnity. He was small, meagre-looking, and mild in +manner, but was probably the most stubborn-brained of all that mixed +company. Completely ignoring the medium, he at once sat down beside +Kent-Smith, with whom he began to exchange remarks. + +At a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered, +unannounced. She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a white, +demure, saintlike face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson and full +that they seemed to be bursting with blood. Her tall, graceful body was +most expensively attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs. +Jameson. She bowed to the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance +and a smile at Faull. The latter gave her a queer look, and Backhouse, +who lost nothing, saw the concealed barbarian in the complacent gleam of +his eye. She refused the refreshment that was offered her, and Faull +proposed that, as everyone had now arrived, they should adjourn to the +lounge hall. + +Mrs. Trent held up a slender palm. “Did you, or did you not, give me +carte blanche, Montague?” + +“Of course I did,” said Faull, laughing. “But what’s the matter?” + +“Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don’t know. I have invited a +couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... The two most +extraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I am sure.” + +“It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?” + +“At least tell us their names, you provoking girl,” put in Mrs. Jameson. + +“One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of +Nightspore. That’s nearly all that I know about them, so don’t overwhelm +me with any more questions.” + +“But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up +somewhere.” + +“But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned against convention? I +swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be here +directly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy.” + +“I don’t know them,” said Faull, “and nobody else seems to, but, of +course, we will all be very pleased to have them.... Shall we wait, or +what?” + +“I said nine, and it’s past that now. It’s quite possible they may not +turn up after all.... Anyway, don’t wait.” + +“I would prefer to start at once,” said Backhouse. + +The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been +divided for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade curtain +drawn across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half +had been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There +was no other furniture. A large fire was burning halfway along the wall, +between the chairbacks and the door. The room was brilliantly lighted by +electric bracket lamps. A sumptuous carpet covered the floor. + +Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the +curtain and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury Lane +presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then exposed to +view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the glowing sky +above it in the background, and, silhouetted against the latter, the +gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A fantastically carved wooden +couch lay before the pedestal of the statue. Near the curtain, obliquely +placed to the auditorium, was a plain oak armchair, for the use of the +medium. + +Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite +inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of +ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual +compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of so +remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward and +examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and Lang +were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the +pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part +of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest +of his party and commenced a patient, systematic search, on his own +account, for secret apparatus. Faull and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of +the temple, talking together in low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, +pretending to hold Backhouse in conversation, watched them as only a +deeply interested woman knows how to watch. + +Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a suspicious +nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing should be +searched. + +“All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in hand, +as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands, +however, that other people who are not present would not be able to say +afterward that trickery has been resorted to.” + +To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and +sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that +nothing mechanical was in Backhouse’s possession. The guests reseated +themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for Mrs. Trent’s +friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then pressed an electric +bell, and took his own seat. + +The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur of +surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, the +beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart’s “temple” music pulsated through +the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, beneath her +pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was deeply moved. +It was evident that aesthetically she was by far the most important +person present. Faull watched her, with his face sunk on his chest, +sprawling as usual. + +Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began +speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so for as +long as he was on his legs. + +“Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. That +means you will see something appear in space that was not previously +there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but finally it will +be a solid body, which anyone present may feel and handle—and, for +example, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape. It +will be a real man or woman—which, I can’t say—but a man or woman +without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an +explanation of the origin of this materialised form—where it comes from, +whence the atoms and molecules composing its tissues are derived—I am +unable to satisfy you. I am about to produce the phenomenon; if anyone +can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very grateful.... That is all +I have to say.” + +He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused +for a moment before beginning his task. + +It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door and +announced in a subdued but distinct voice: “Mr. Maskull, Mr. +Nightspore.” + +Everyone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals. +Backhouse also stood up, and stared hard at them. + +The two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed +quietly behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild sensation +caused by their appearance to subside before advancing into the room. +Maskull was a kind of giant, but of broader and more robust physique +than most giants. He wore a full beard. His features were thick and +heavy, coarsely modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes, +small and black, sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity. +His hair was short, black, and bristling. Nightspore was of middle +height, but so tough-looking that he appeared to be trained out of all +human frailties and susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed +by an intense spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both +men were dressed in tweeds. + +Before any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling +masonry caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in +consternation. It sounded as if the entire upper part of the building +had collapsed. Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to +say what was happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he +gathered what was required of him. He said he had heard nothing. In +obedience to his master’s order, he went upstairs. Nothing, however, was +amiss there, neither had the maids heard anything. + +In the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had +preserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood +gnawing his nails. + +“Perhaps you can explain it, sir?” + +“It was supernatural,” said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled voice, +turning away from his questioner. + +“I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard it so +loud.” + +He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled +down, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured +interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness. +Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent kept +stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout the entire incident, +Mozart’s hymn continued to be played. The orchestra also had heard +nothing. + +Backhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be familiar +to him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not possible to +effect the materialisation by mere concentration of will, or the +exercise of any faculty; otherwise many people could have done what he +had engaged himself to do. His nature was phenomenal—the dividing wall +between himself and the spiritual world was broken in many places. +Through the gaps in his mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he +summoned them, passed for a moment timidly and awfully into the solid, +coloured universe.... He could not say how it was brought about.... The +experience was a rough one for the body, and many such struggles would +lead to insanity and early death. That is why Backhouse was stern and +abrupt in his manner. The coarse, clumsy suspicion of some of the +witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of others, were equally obnoxious +to his grim, bursting heart; but he was obliged to live, and, to pay his +way, must put up with these impertinences. + +He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed +to look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The +spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began +to feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull’s eyes +glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but +Nightspore appeared bored. + +After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become +slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the +ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and +thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and +held his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his +nose. + +By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline +of an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It +hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse +looked haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair, +but she was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled +down upon the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to +grow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the +medium himself, but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once +or twice at Mrs. Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was +twisting a little lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her +hand. The music went on playing. + +The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The +face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of +shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand fell +over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker +spirits of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest +were grave and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did +not appear like a death succeeding life, but like a death preliminary to +life. All felt that he might sit up at any minute. + +“Stop that music!” muttered Backhouse, tottering from his chair and +facing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars sounded, and +then total silence ensued. + +“Anyone who wants to may approach the couch,” said Backhouse with +difficulty. + +Lang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural youth. + +“You are at liberty to touch,” said the medium. + +But Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by one +stole up to the couch—until it came to Faull’s turn. He looked straight +at Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the spectacle +before her, and then not only touched the apparition but suddenly +grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful squeeze. +Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened his eyes, +looked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A cryptic smile +started playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his hand; a feeling of +intense pleasure passed through his body. + +Maskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another +spell of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the room. +Neither of them returned. + +The phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his +peculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other men +more or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but +Nightspore paced up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while +Maskull attempted to interrogate the youth. The apparition watched him +with a baffling expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was sitting +apart, his face buried in his hands. + +It was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a +stranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the +room, and then stopped. None of Faull’s friends had ever seen him +before. He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular +development and a head far too large in proportion to his body. His +beardless yellow face indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of +sagacity, brutality, and humour. + +“Aha-i, gentlemen!” he called out loudly. His voice was piercing, and +oddly disagreeable to the ear. “So we have a little visitor here.” + +Nightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder in +astonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought him to +the edge of the theatre. + +“May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?” +asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding as +smoothly as he had anticipated. + +The newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great, +roaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully—but the play was +rather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the wall before +he could recover his balance. + +“Good evening, my host!” + +“And good evening to you too, my lad!” he went on, addressing the +supernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in +apparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. “I have seen someone very +like you before, I think.” + +There was no response. + +The intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom’s face. “You have +no right here, as you know.” + +The shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, which, +however, no one could understand. + +“Be careful what you are doing,” said Backhouse quickly. + +“What’s the matter, spirit usher?” + +“I don’t know who you are, but if you use physical violence toward that, +as you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove very unpleasant.” + +“And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn’t it, my +little mercenary friend?” + +Humour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, leaving +it hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, he +encircled the soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his hairy +hands and, with a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint, +unearthly shriek sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its +face was uppermost. The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that +its expression had changed from the mysterious but fascinating smile to +a vulgar, sordid, bestial grin, which cast a cold shadow of moral +nastiness into every heart. The transformation was accompanied by a +sickening stench of the graveyard. + +The features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, passing +from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two minutes had +elapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared. + +The short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud +laugh, like nothing in nature. + +The professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull +beckoned Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check +without a word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and +walked out of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a drink. + +The stranger poked his face up into Maskull’s. + +“Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn’t you like to see the +land where this sort of fruit grows wild?” + +“What sort of fruit?” + +“That specimen goblin.” + +Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. “Who are you, and how did you +come here?” + +“Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me.” Nightspore had moved +a chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, fanatical +expression. + +“Let Krag come to me, if he wants me,” he said, in his strange voice. + +“You see, he does know me,” uttered Krag, with a humorous look. Walking +over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. + +“Still the same old gnawing hunger?” + +“What is doing these days?” demanded Nightspore disdainfully, without +altering his attitude. + +“Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him.” + +“How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you speaking?” +asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in perplexity. + +“Krag has something for us. Let us go outside,” replied Nightspore. He +got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the direction +of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were watching their +little group attentively. + + + +Chapter 2. IN THE STREET + +The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was +slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The +multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll +of hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly excited; he had a sense that +something extraordinary was about to happen. “What brought you to this +house tonight, Krag, and what made you do what you did? How are we +understand that apparition?” + +“That must have been Crystalman’s expression on its face,” muttered +Nightspore. + +“We have discussed that, haven’t we, Maskull? Maskull is anxious to +behold that rare fruit in its native wilds.” + +Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings +toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man’s personality, yet +side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring +up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag. + +“Why do you insist on this simile?” he asked. + +“Because it is apropos. Nightspore’s quite right. That was Crystalman’s +face, and we are going to Crystalman’s country.” + +“And where is this mysterious country?” + +“Tormance.” + +“That’s a quaint name. But where is it?” + +Krag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street lamp. + +“It is the residential suburb of Arcturus.” + +“What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of that +name?” he went on, to Krag. + +“Which you have in front of you at this very minute,” said Krag, +pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the south-eastern +sky. “There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one inhabited planet.” + +Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaming star, and again at Krag. Then he +pulled out a pipe, and began to fill it. + +“You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag.” + +“I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days.” + +“I meant to ask you—how do you know my name?” + +“It would be odd if I didn’t, seeing that I only came here on your +account. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends.” + +Maskull paused with his suspended match. “You came here on my account?” + +“Surely. On your account and Nightspore’s. We three are to be fellow +travellers.” + +Maskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments. + +“I’m sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad.” + +Krag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. “Am I mad, +Nightspore?” + +“Has Surtur gone to Tormance?” ejaculated Nightspore in a strangled +voice, fixing his eyes on Krag’s face. + +“Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once.” + +Maskull’s heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like a +dream conversation. + +“And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things by a total +stranger.... Besides, who is this individual?” + +“Krag’s chief,” said Nightspore, turning his head away. + +“The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up.” + +“You are looking for mysteries,” said Krag, “so naturally you are +finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. The affair is +plain and serious.” + +Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. + +“Where have you come from now?” demanded Nightspore suddenly. + +“From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the famous +Starkness Observatory, Maskull?” + +“No. Where is it?” + +“On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made there +from time to time.” + +“As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur turns +out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?” + +Krag grinned again. “How long will it take you to wind up your affairs? +When can you be ready to start?” + +“You are too considerate,” said Maskull, laughing outright. “I was +beginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... However, I +have neither wife, land, nor profession, so there’s nothing to wait +for.... What is the itinerary?” + +“You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no encumbrances.” +Krag’s features became suddenly grave and rigid. “Don’t be a fool, and +refuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not offered a second time.” + +“Krag,” replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his pocket. “I ask +you to put yourself in my place. Even if I were a man sick for +adventures, how could I listen seriously to such an insane proposition +as this? What do I know about you, or your past record? You may be a +practical joker, or you may have come out of a madhouse—I know nothing +about it. If you claim to be an exceptional man, and want my +cooperation, you must offer me exceptional proofs.” + +“And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?” + +As he spoke he gripped Maskull’s arm. A sharp, chilling pain immediately +passed through the latter’s body and at the same moment his brain caught +fire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of the sun. He asked +himself for the first time if this fantastic conversation could by any +chance refer to real things. + +“Listen, Krag,” he said slowly, while peculiar images and conceptions +started to travel in rich disorder through his mind. “You talk about a +certain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, and I were +given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come back. +For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my life. +That is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me that you’re +not talking nonsense. Produce your credentials.” + +Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually +resuming its jesting expression. + +“Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but not +much longer. You’re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip will +prove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the unbelievers +of old, you want a sign from heaven?” + +Maskull frowned. “But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are +overexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep it +off.” + +Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with +the other. He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens. +The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches. + +“First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve as a +provisional sign. It’s the best I can do, unfortunately. I am not a +travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It’s somewhat +heavy.” + +Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and +then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least +twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece. + +“What stuff can this be, Krag?” + +“Look through it, my good friend. That’s what I gave it to you for.” + +Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming +Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the +muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which +to the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became +clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was +still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But this +was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a +comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed +to shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and +raised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and +again, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens +to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip. + +“You take a glimpse too,” scraped Krag, proffering the glass to +Nightspore. + +Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up and down. Krag laughed +sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. “Well, Maskull, are +you satisfied?” + +“Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet +Tormance?” + +“Our future home, Maskull.” + +Maskull continued to ponder. “You inquire if I am satisfied. I don’t +know, Krag. It’s miraculous, and that’s all I can say about it.... But +I’m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful astronomers at +Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will surely come.” + +“I do invite you. We set off from there.” + +“And you, Nightspore?” demanded Maskull. + +“The journey has to be made,” answered his friend in indistinct tones, +“though I don’t see what will come of it.” + +Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. “More remarkable adventures than +this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore.” + +“Yet he is coming.” + +“But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company.” + +Maskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary might, +in the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart swelled with +grand and painful longings, for which, however, he was unable to account +to his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was in some way bound up +with this gigantic, far-distant sun. But still he did not dare to admit +to himself Krag’s seriousness. + +He heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the +lapse of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise +that they referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and +times of trains. + +“Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn’t catch that.” + +“No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of the +day after tomorrow.” + +Maskull remained thoughtful. “What am I to think of that man?” + +“For your information,” replied Nightspore wearily, “I have never known +him to lie.” + + + +Chapter 3. STARKNESS + +A couple of days later, at two o’clock in the afternoon, Maskull and +Nightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven +miles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, ran +for the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty cliffs, +within sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk east wind was +blowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green waves were flecked +with white. Throughout the walk, they were accompanied by the plaintive, +beautiful crying of the gulls. + +The observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained +little community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end of +the land. There were three buildings: a small, stone-built dwelling +house, a low workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther north, a +square tower of granite masonry, seventy feet in height. + +The house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with +waste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side facing +the sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the cliff. No +one appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull could have sworn +that the whole establishment was shut up and deserted. + +He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked +vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had +obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but +could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the +door was looked. + +They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there +was only the one door. + +“This isn’t promising,” growled Maskull. “There’s no one here..... Now +you try the shed, while I go over to that tower.” + +Nightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the +train, complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull +passed out of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the tower, +which stood some way back from the cliff, he found the door heavily +padlocked. Gazing up, he saw six windows, one above the other at equal +distances, all on the east face—that is, overlooking the sea. Realising +that no satisfaction was to be gained here, he came away again, still +more irritated than before. When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore +reported that the workshop was also locked. + +“Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?” demanded Maskull +energetically. + +“The house is empty,” replied Nightspore, biting his nails. “Better +break a window.” + +“I certainly don’t mean to camp out till Krag condescends to come.” + +He picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe +distance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The lower +pane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, +Maskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back the frame +fastening. A minute later they had climbed through and were standing +inside the house. + +The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and +neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken +utensils and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, +everything was covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was +so foul that Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room +for several months. Insects were crawling on the walls. + +They went into the other rooms on the lower floor—a scullery, a barely +furnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The same dirt, +mustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a year must have +elapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even entered. + +“Does your faith in Krag still hold?” asked Maskull. “I confess mine is +at vanishing point. If this affair isn’t one big practical joke, it has +every promise of being one. Krag never lived here in his life.” + +“Come upstairs first,” said Nightspore. + +The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. +All the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The +beds had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been +made since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually preserved the +impressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that these impressions +were ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had accumulated on the +sheets and coverlets. + +“Who could have slept here, do you think?” interrogated Maskull. “The +observatory staff?” + +“More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly.” + +Maskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and held +his breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the sea; the +third, the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This library was now +the only room left unvisited, and unless they discovered signs of recent +occupation here Maskull made up his mind to regard the whole business as +a gigantic hoax. + +But the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air and +dust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell heavily +into an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend. + +“Now what is your opinion of Krag?” + +Nightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the window. +“He may still have left a message for us.” + +“What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?—I see no message.” + +Nightspore’s eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger +upon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old bottles on +one of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at him and at the +cupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine the bottles. + +There were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. The +smaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo-shaped, but +had flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand upright. Two of the +smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the others contained a +colourless liquid, and possessed queer-looking, nozzle-like stoppers +that were connected by a thin metal rod with a catch halfway down the +side of the bottle. They were labelled, but the labels were yellow with +age and the writing was nearly undecipherable. Maskull carried the +filled bottles with him to the table in front of the window, in order to +get better light. Nightspore moved away to make room for him. + +He now made out on the larger bottle the words “Solar Back Rays”; and on +the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could distinguish +something like “Arcturian Back Rays.” + +He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. “Have you been here +before, Nightspore?” + +“I guessed Krag would leave a message.” + +“Well, I don’t know—it may be a message, but it means nothing to us, or +at all events to me. What are ‘back rays’?” + +“Light that goes back to its source,” muttered Nightspore. + +“And what kind of light would that be?” + +Nightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull’s eyes still +fixed on him, he brought out: “Unless light pulled, as well as pushed, +how would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after the sun?” + +“I don’t know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?” + +While he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the +other, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such a +manner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement to +stop it, his hand was actually descending, when—the bottle suddenly +disappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the table, but had +really vanished—it was nowhere at all. + +Maskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and +turned to Nightspore with a smile. “The message grows more intricate.” + +Nightspore looked bored. “The valve became unfastened. The contents have +escaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the bottle with +them. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth’s atmosphere, and +the contents will dissipate, and will not reach the sun.” + +Maskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. “Does anything +prevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?” + +“Replace it in the cupboard,” said Nightspore. “Arcturus is still below +the horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the house.” + +Maskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at the +sunlit moors. + +“Krag treats me like a child,” he remarked presently. “And perhaps I +really am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to Krag. But +why does he leave me to find out all this by myself—for I don’t include +you, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?” + +“Not before dark, I expect,” his friend replied. + + + +Chapter 4. THE VOICE + +It was by this time past three o’clock. Feeling hungry, for they had +eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage, +but without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a +safe in the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was +untouchable, a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and an +unopened can of ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he +came across an uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once +made preparations for a scratch meal. + +A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it, +and he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of +the kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood +made a good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were +procured and washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the +library. + +Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good +appetite. There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly +black tea was mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this +concoction Maskull drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had +disappeared he was still imbibing. + +Nightspore looked at him queerly. “Do you intend to finish the bottle +before Krag comes?” + +“Krag won’t want any, and one must do something. I feel restless.” + +“Let us take a look at the country.” + +The cup, which was on its way to Maskull’s lips, remained poised in the +air. “Have you anything in view, Nightspore?” + +“Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.” + +“What’s that?” + +“A showplace,” answered Nightspore, biting his lip. + +Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. “Walking is better +than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How far +is it?” + +“Three or four miles each way.” + +“You probably mean something,” said Maskull, “for I’m beginning to +regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I am growing +nervous, and need incidents.” + +They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately +found themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from +Haillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower. + +Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest. +“What is that tower, Nightspore?” + +“We sail from the platform on the top.” + +“Tonight?”—throwing him a quick look. + +“Yes.” + +Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. “Then we are looking at the +gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it.” + +“You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,” mumbled Nightspore. + +After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved +sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it +and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way along the cliff +edge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The +two men then had some rough walking up and down hillsides and across +deep gullies. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and twilight +imperceptibly came on. They soon reached a spot where further progress +appeared impossible. The buttress of a mountain descended at a steep +angle to the very edge of the cliff, forming an impassable slope of +slippery grass. Maskull halted, stroked his beard, and wondered what the +next step was to be. + +“There’s a little scrambling here,” said Nightspore. “We are both used +to climbing, and there is not much in it.” + +He indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice a +few yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from fifteen to +thirty inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull’s consent to the +undertaking, he instantly swung himself down and started walking along +this ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing that there was no help for +it, followed him. The shelf did not extend for above a quarter of a +mile, but its passage was somewhat unnerving; there was a sheer drop to +the sea, four hundred feet below. In a few places they had to sidle +along without placing one foot before another. The sound of the breakers +came up to them in a low, threatening roar. + +Upon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized +platform of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea +separated them from the continuation of the cliffs beyond. + +“As we can’t get any further,” said Maskull, “I presume this is your Gap +of Sorgie?” + +“Yes,” answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and then lying +at full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders over the +edge and began to stare straight down at the water. + +“What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?” + +Receiving no reply, however, he followed his friend’s example, and the +next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom +had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was +ineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a drum +on the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but quite +distinct. The beats were in four-four time, with the third beat slightly +accented. He now continued to hear the noise all the time he was lying +there. The beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the +surf, but seemed somehow to belong to a different world.... + +When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. “We came +here solely to hear that?” + +Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. “It’s called locally ‘The +Drum Taps of Sorgie.’ You will not hear that name again, but perhaps you +will hear the sound again.” + +“And if I do, what will it imply?” demanded Maskull in amazement. + +“It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more +distinctly.... Now it’s growing dark, and we must get back.” + +Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It +was past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore’s words, and not of +the time. + +***** + + +Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black +sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the +sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base +of the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was +open. He caught hold of Nightspore’s arm violently. “Look! Krag is +back.” + +“Yes, we must make haste to the house.” + +“And why not the tower? He’s probably in there, since the gate is open. +I’m going up to look.” + +Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. + +All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the +flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone +steps. “Are you coming up?” he asked. + +“No, I’ll wait here.” + +Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen +steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath. He +seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he +proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing, +grew worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his +lungs could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a +ship’s engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he +completed the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with +the first window, which was set in a high embrasure. + +Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and +climbed into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see +something from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the +window at the stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it +was not a window at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of +space containing a multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused +only in one part, where two very bright stars, like small moons in size, +appeared in close conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary +object, as brilliant as Venus and with an observable disk. One of the +suns shone with a glaring white light; the other was a weird and awful +blue. Their light, though almost solar in intensity, did not illuminate +the interior of the tower. + +Maskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was gazing +was what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He had seen the +sight before, through Krag’s glass, but then the scale had been smaller, +the colors of the twin suns had not appeared in their naked reality.... +These colors seemed to him most marvellous, as if, in seeing them +through earth eyes, he was not seeing them correctly.... But it was at +Tormance that he stared the longest and the most earnestly. On that +mysterious and terrible earth, countless millions of miles distant, it +had been promised him that he would set foot, even though he might leave +his bones there. The strange creatures that he was to behold and touch +were already living, at this very moment. + +A low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard +away. “Don’t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an instrument, +to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when he wakes +you must die. You will go, but he will return.” + +Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was +in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. + +The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he +redescended to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his +sensation of weight was instantly removed, but he continued panting and +palpitating, like a man who has lifted a far too heavy load. + +Nightspore’s dark form came forward. “Was Krag there?” + +“If he was, I didn’t see him. But I heard someone speak.” + +“Was it Krag?” + +“It was not Krag—but a voice warned me against you.” + +“Yes, you will hear these voices too,” said Nightspore enigmatically. + + + +Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE + +When they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and +the door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not +there. Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every +room—at the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the man +they were expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the premises. +Groping their way into the library, they sat down in the total darkness +to wait, for nothing else remained to be done. Maskull lit his pipe, and +began to drink the remainder of the whisky. Through the open window +sounded in their ears the trainlike grinding of the sea at the foot of +the cliffs. + +“Krag must be in the tower after all,” remarked Maskull, breaking the +silence. + +“Yes, he is getting ready.” + +“I hope he doesn’t expect us to join him there. It was beyond my +powers—but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic pull of +some sort.” + +“It is Tormantic gravity,” muttered Nightspore. + +“I understand you—or, rather, I don’t—but it doesn’t matter.” + +He went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the +neat liquor. “Who is Surtur?” he demanded abruptly. + +“We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master.” + +Maskull digested this. “I fancy you are right, for though I know nothing +about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you +personally acquainted with him?” + +“I must be... I forget...” replied Nightspore in a choking voice. + +Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the +blackness of the room. + +“Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of +them?... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where we are +going?” + +“You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions—I can’t +answer them.” + +“Then let us go on waiting for Krag,” said Maskull coldly. + +Ten minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep +was heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating heart. + +Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly +glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and +forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he +strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light +hardly served to illuminate the walls. + +“You have got here, then, Maskull?” + +“So it seems—but I shan’t thank you for your hospitality, for it has +been conspicuous by its absence.” + +Krag ignored the remark. “Are you ready to start?” + +“By all means—when you are. It is not so entertaining here.” + +Krag surveyed him critically. “I heard you stumbling about in the tower. +You couldn’t get up, it seems.” + +“It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start +takes place from the top.” + +“But your other doubts are all removed?” + +“So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing to +see what you can do.” + +“Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that until +you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the gravitation +of Tormance?” + +“Then I repeat, it’s an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can’t get up.” + +Krag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp knife. + +“Remove your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve,” he directed. + +“Do you propose to make an incision with that?” + +“Yes, and don’t start difficulties, because the effect is certain, but +you can’t possibly understand it beforehand.” + +“Still, a cut with a pocket-knife—” began Maskull, laughing. + +“It will answer, Maskull,” interrupted Nightspore. + +“Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe,” said Krag. +“Let us see what your blood is made of.” + +Nightspore obeyed. + +Krag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and +almost savage slash at Maskull’s upper arm. The wound was deep, and +blood flowed freely. + +“Do I bind it up?” asked Maskull, scowling with pain. + +Krag spat on the wound. “Pull your shirt down, it won’t bleed any more.” + +He then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation +with grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor. + +An awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through +Maskull’s body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to +faint, but it subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing but +a gnawing ache in the injured arm, just strong enough to make life one +long discomfort. + +“That’s finished,” said Krag. “Now you can follow me.” + +Picking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others hastened +after him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment later their +footsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, resounded through the +deserted house. Krag waited till they were out, and then banged the +front door after them with such violence that the windows shook. + +While they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught his +arm. “I heard a voice up those stairs.” + +“What did it say?” + +“That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return.” + +Krag smiled. “The journey is getting notorious,” he remarked, after a +pause. “There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you want to +return?” + +“I don’t know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious enough to +be mentioned.” + +“It is not a bad thing to hear voices,” said Krag, “but you mustn’t for +a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you out of the night +world.” + +When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately +set foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up, +bearing the lantern. Maskull followed him with some trepidation, in view +of his previous painful experience on these stairs, but when, after the +first half-dozen steps, he discovered that he was still breathing +freely, his dread changed to relief and astonishment, and he could have +chattered like a girl. + +At the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stopping, but +Maskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his acquaintance +with the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. The lens had lost +its magic property. It had become a common sheet of glass, through which +the ordinary sky field appeared. + +The climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again +mounted and stared out, but still the common sights presented +themselves. After that, he gave up and looked through no more windows. + +Krag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so that +he had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the top, he +saw yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened door. His +companions were standing just inside a small room, shut off from the +staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely furnished and +contained nothing of astronomical interest. The lantern was resting on a +table. + +Maskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. “Are we at the +top?” + +“Except for the platform over our heads,” replied Krag. + +“Why didn’t that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in the +evening?” + +“Oh, you missed your opportunity,” said Krag, grinning. “If you had +finished your climb then, you would have seen heart-expanding sights. +From the fifth window, for example, you would have seen Tormance like a +continent in relief; from the sixth you would have seen it like a +landscape.... But now there’s no need.” + +“Why not—and what has need got to do with it?” + +“Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the same +reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no +necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route.” + +“Very well,” said Maskull, not quite understanding what he meant. “But +is this Surtur’s den?” + +“He has spent time here.” + +“I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may not +get another chance.” + +“What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There’s no need +to waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately going on +to the reality.” + +“Then let us go.” He pressed his eyeballs wearily. + +“Do we strip?” asked Nightspore. + +“Naturally,” answered Krag, and he began to tear off his clothes with +slow, uncouth movements. + +“Why?” demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of the other +two men. + +Krag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like an +ape’s. “Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may sprout +limbs—I don’t say we shall.” + +“A-ha!” exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his undressing. + +Krag smote him on the back. “New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. You +like that?” + +The three men stood as nature made them. Maskull’s spirits rose fast, as +the moment of departure drew near. + +“A farewell drink to success!” cried Krag, seizing a bottle and breaking +its head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, but he poured +the amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups. + +Perceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It was +as if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag dropped +onto the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his legs in the +air. He tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a little horseplay +went on between the two. Nightspore took no part in it, but walked to +and fro, like a hungry caged animal. + +Suddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, piercing +wail, such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It ceased abruptly, +and was not repeated. + +“What’s that?” called out Maskull, disengaging himself impatiently from +Krag. + +Krag rocked with laughter. “A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce the +bagpipes of its earth life—in honour of our departure.” + +Nightspore turned to Krag. “Maskull will sleep throughout the journey?” + +“And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you +passengers can amuse yourselves as you please.” + +“Are we off at last?” asked Maskull. + +“Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a +Rubicon!... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so to +arrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours.” + +“Then you assert that Surtur is already there?” + +“Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller.” + +“Won’t I see him?” + +Krag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t forget that you +have asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will know more +about him than you do, but your memory will be your worst friend.” + +***** + +He led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the +flat roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric +torch. + +Maskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey them +through the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet long, +eight wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian back rays +was in front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was directed +toward the south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon a flat +platform, raised about four feet above the level of the roof, so as to +encounter no obstruction on starting its flight. + +Krag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them to +enter. Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the +gigantic, far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now onward. +He frowned, shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. Krag +clambered past them onto his pilot’s seat. He threw the flashlight +through the open door, which was then carefully closed, fastened, and +screwed up. + +He pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its +platform, and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its +speed increased sensibly, though not excessively, until the approximate +limits of the earth’s atmosphere were reached. Krag then released the +speed valve, and the car sped on its way with a velocity more nearly +approaching that of thought than of light. + +Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the +rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness +oppressed him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the +thirteenth attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily. + +The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore’s face. The +alterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least +interest for him. + +Krag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness his +phosphorescent charts and gauges. + + + +Chapter 6. JOIWIND + +IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind +was blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never +experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was +unable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A numbing pain, +which he could not identify with any region of his frame, acted from now +onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his other sensations. It +gnawed away at him continuously; sometimes it embittered and irritated +him, at other times he forgot it. + +He felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he +discovered there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, having +a cavity in the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. Then he +also became aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, an inch +below the ear. + +From the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long as +his arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible. + +As soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new organs, +his heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be their use, +they proved one thing—that he was in a new world. + +One part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull cried +out to his companions, but received no response. This frightened him. He +went on shouting out, at irregular intervals—equally alarmed at the +silence and at the sound of his own voice. Finally, as no answering hail +came, he thought it wiser not to make too much noise, and after that he +lay quiet, waiting in cold blood for what might happen. + +In a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were not +his friends. + +A pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black night, +while in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one would have +said that day was breaking. The brightness went on imperceptibly +increasing for a very long time. + +Maskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the +sand was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with +black stems and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible. + +The day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before long +the brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the midday +sun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull welcomed it—it +relieved his pain and diminished his sense of crushing weight. The wind +had dropped with the rising of the sun. + +He now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. He +was unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially dissolved, +and all that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of red sand dotted +with ten or twenty bushes. + +He felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started forward +in nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the sand. Looking +up over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see a woman standing +beside him. + +She was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather +classically draped. According to earth standards she was not beautiful, +for, although her face was otherwise human, she was endowed—or +afflicted—with the additional disfiguring organs that Maskull had +discovered in himself. She also possessed the heart tentacle. But when +he sat up, and their eyes met and remained in sympathetic contact, he +seemed to see right into a soul that was the home of love, warmth, +kindness, tenderness, and intimacy. Such was the noble familiarity of +that gaze, that he thought he knew her. After that, he recognised all +the loveliness of her person. She was tall and slight. All her movements +were as graceful as music. Her skin was not of a dead, opaque colour, +like that of an earth beauty, but was opalescent; its hue was +continually changing, with every thought and emotion, but none of these +tints was vivid—all were delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very +long, loosely plaited, flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull +had familiarised himself with them, imparted something to her face that +was unique and striking. He could not quite define it to himself, but +subtlety and inwardness seemed added. The organs did not contradict the +love of her eyes or the angelic purity of her features, but nevertheless +sounded a deeper note—a note that saved her from mere girlishness. + +Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely +any humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised +his plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying +over her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a +darker, more masculine colour. + +“Do you think you can put it on by yourself?” + +He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not +sounded. + +He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the +complications of the drapery. + +“Poor man—how you are suffering!” she said, in the same inaudible +language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she said was +received by his brain through the organ on his forehead. + +“Where am I? Is this Tormance?” he asked. As he spoke, he staggered. + +She caught him, and helped him to sit down. “Yes. You are with friends.” + +Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in +English. Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so +fresh, nervous, and girlish. “I can now understand your language. It was +strange at first. In the future I’ll speak to you with my mouth.” + +“This is extraordinary! What is this organ?” he asked, touching his +forehead. + +“It is named the ‘breve.’ By means of it we read one another’s thoughts. +Still, speech is better, for then the heart can be read too.” + +He smiled. “They say that speech is given us to deceive others.” + +“One can deceive with thought, too. But I’m thinking of the best, not +the worst.” + +“Have you seen my friends?” + +She scrutinised him quietly, before answering. “Did you not come alone?” + +“I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost consciousness +on arrival, and I haven’t seen them since.” + +“That’s very strange! No, I haven’t seen them. They can’t be here, or we +would have known it. My husband and I—” + +“What is your name, and your husband’s name?” + +“Mine is Joiwind—my husband’s is Panawe. We live a very long way from +here; still, it came to us both last night that you were lying here +insensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come to you, +but in the end I won.” Here she laughed. “I won, because I am the +stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in perception.” + +“Thanks, Joiwind!” said Maskull simply. + +The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. “Oh, why do you +say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at +the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood.” + +“What is this?” he demanded, rather puzzled. + +“It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world. +Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.” + +Maskull flushed. “I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won’t it +hurt you?” + +“If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will share +the pain.” + +“This is a new kind of hospitality to me,” he muttered. + +“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” asked Joiwind, half smiling, half +agitated. + +“I can’t answer for any of my actions in this world. I scarcely know +where I am.... Why, yes—of course I would, Joiwind.” + +While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled +away from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog- +charged. The desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, except +one, where there was a sort of little oasis—some low hills, clothed +sparsely with little purple trees from base to summit. It was about a +quarter of a mile distant. + +Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of +nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull +expostulated. + +“Really, this part of it is nothing,” she said, laughing. “And if it +were—a sacrifice that is no sacrifice—what merit is there in that?... +Come now—your arm!” + +The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a milky, +opalescent fluid. + +“Not that one!” said Maskull, shrinking. “I have already been cut +there.” He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth. + +Joiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds +together, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull’s for a +long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through the +incision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. After +about five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he wanted to +remove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his way, but it was +none too soon—she stood there pale and dispirited. + +She looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if +strange depths had opened up before her eyes. + +“What is your name?” + +“Maskull.” + +“Where have you come from, with this awful blood?” + +“From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for this +world, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I am sorry +I let you have your way.” + +“Oh, don’t say that! There was nothing else to be done. We must all help +one another. Yet, somehow—forgive me—I feel polluted.” + +“And well you may, for it’s a fearful thing for a girl to accept in her +own veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. If I had not +been so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it.” + +“But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? Why did +you come here, Maskull?” + +He was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. “Will you think it +foolish if I say I hardly know?—I came with those two men. Perhaps I was +attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of adventure.” + +“Perhaps,” said Joiwind. “I wonder... These friends of yours must be +terrible men. Why did they come?” + +“That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur.” + +Her face grew troubled. “I don’t understand it. One of them at least +must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur—or Shaping, as he +is called here—he can’t be really bad.” + +“What do you know of Surtur?” asked Maskull in astonishment. + +Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved +restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. “I see.... and +yet I don’t see,” she said at last. “It is very difficult.... Your God +is a dreadful Being—bodyless, unfriendly, invisible. Here we don’t +worship a God like that. Tell me, has any man set eyes on your God?” + +“What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?” + +“I want to know.” + +“In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy men +are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are +past.” + +“Our world is still young,” said Joiwind. “Shaping goes among us and +converses with us. He is real and active—a friend and lover. Shaping +made us, and he loves his work.” + +“Have you met him?” demanded Maskull, hardly believing his ears. + +“No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an +opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting +and talking with Shaping.” + +“I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is the +same as Surtur?” + +“Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, but +a few name him Surtur.” + +Maskull bit his nail. “Have you ever heard of Crystalman?” + +“That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names—which shows how +much he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of affection.” + +“It’s odd,” said Maskull. “I came here with quite different ideas about +Crystalman.” + +Joiwind shook her hair. “In that grove of trees over there stands a +desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we’ll go on our +way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It’s a long way off, and we must +get there before Blodsombre.” + +“Now, what is Blodsombre?” + +“For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell’s rays are so +hot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre.” + +“Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?” + +Joiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. “Naturally we don’t take +our names from you, Maskull. I don’t think our names are very poetic, +but they follow nature.” + +She took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the +tree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the upper +mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from a +furnace, struck Maskull’s head. He involuntarily looked up, but lowered +his eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that instant was a +glaring ball of electric white, three times the apparent diameter of the +sun. For a few minutes he was quite blind. + +“My God!” he exclaimed. “If it’s like this in early morning you must be +right enough about Blodsombre.” When he had somewhat recovered himself +he asked, “How long are the days here, Joiwind?” + +Again he felt his brain being probed. + +“At this time of the year, for every hour’s daylight that you have in +summer, we have two.” + +“The heat is terrific—and yet somehow I don’t feel so distressed by it +as I would have expected.” + +“I feel it more than usual. It’s not difficult to account for it; you +have some of my blood, and I have some of yours.” + +“Yes, every time I realise that, I—Tell me, Joiwind, will my blood +alter, if I stay here long enough?—I mean, will it lose its redness and +thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like yours?” + +“Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us.” + +“Do you mean food and drink?” + +“We eat no food, and drink only water.” + +“And on that you manage to sustain life?” + +“Well, Maskull, our water is good water,” replied Joiwind, smiling. + +As soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The +enormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting +where it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep +blue, almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger than +on earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in which they +were walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently about forty +miles distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was shaped like a +cup. Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he was travelling in +dreamland, but for the intensity of the light, which made everything +vividly real. + +Joiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. “That’s Poolingdred.” + +“You didn’t come from there!” he exclaimed, quite startled. + +“Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now.” + +“With the single object of finding me?” + +“Why, yes.” + +The colour mounted to his face. “Then you are the bravest and noblest of +all girls,” he said quietly, after a pause. “Without exception. Why, +this is a journey for an athlete!” + +She pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues stained +her cheeks in rapid transition. “Please don’t say any more about it, +Maskull. It makes me feel unpleasant.” + +“Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?” + +“Oh, yes. And you mustn’t be frightened at the distance. We think +nothing of long distances here—we have so much to think about and feel. +Time goes all too quickly.” + +During their conversation they had drawn near the base of the hills, +which sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. Maskull +now began to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What looked like a +small patch of purple grass, above five feet square, was moving across +the sand in their direction. When it came near enough he perceived that +it was not grass; there were no blades, but only purple roots. The roots +were revolving, for each small plant in the whole patch, like the spokes +of a rimless wheel. They were alternately plunged in the sand, and +withdrawn from it, and by this means the plant proceeded forward. Some +uncanny, semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together, +moving at one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in +flight. + +Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a +dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind +caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed +it to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the air and fed on +the chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what was peculiar about +it was its colour. It was an entirely new colour—not a new shade or +combination, but a new primary colour, as vivid as blue, red, or yellow, +but quite different. When he inquired, she told him that it was known as +“ulfire.” Presently he met with a second new colour. This she designated +“jale.” The sense impressions caused in Maskull by these two additional +primary colors can only be vaguely hinted at by analogy. Just as blue is +delicate and mysterious, yellow clear and unsubtle, and red sanguine and +passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild and painful, and jale +dreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous. + +The hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird +shapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, covered +the slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and through. Some +hard fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a large apple, and +shaped like an egg, was lying in profusion underneath the trees. + +“Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don’t you eat it?” asked Maskull. + +She looked at him tranquilly. “We don’t eat living things. The thought +is horrible to us.” + +“I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you really +sustain your bodies on water?” + +“Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull—would you eat +other men?” + +“I would not.” + +“Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow creatures. +So nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really live on +anything, water does very well.” + +Maskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he did +so another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. He found +that the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel fashion +acquainting him with the inward properties of the fruit. He could not +only see, feel, and smell it, but could detect its intrinsic nature. +This nature was hard, persistent and melancholy. + +Joiwind answered the questions he had not asked. + +“Those organs are called ‘poigns.’ Their use is to enable us to +understand and sympathise with all living creatures.” + +“What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?” + +“The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull.” + +He threw the fruit away and flushed again. + +Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and +slowly smiled. “Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do you +know why you think so? It’s because you are still impure. By and by you +will listen to all language without shame.” + +Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle +round his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool +pressure. The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and +sensitive that it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that +embraced him—a pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced +neither voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the +caress was rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least +trace of sex in it—and so he received it. + +She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and +penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul. + +“Yes, I wish to be pure,” he muttered. “Without that what can I ever be +but a weak, squirming devil?” + +Joiwind released him. “This we call the ‘magn,’” she said, indicating +her tentacle. “By means of it what we love already we love more, and +what we don’t love at all we begin to love.” + +“A godlike organ!” + +“It is the one we guard most jealously,” said Joiwind. + +The shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost +insufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward to +the zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull +looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result. +After staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but +suspicions had already begun to gather in his mind. + +A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by +the tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very middle +shot up a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and +transparent, crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural, +circular well, containing dark green water. + +When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the +well. + +Maskull gazed at it intently. “Is this the shrine you talked about?” + +“Yes. It is called Shaping’s Well. The man or woman who wishes to invoke +Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it.” + +“Pray for me,” said Maskull. “Your unspotted prayer will carry more +weight.” + +“What do you wish for?” + +“For purity,” answered Maskull, in a troubled voice. + +Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She +held it up to Maskull’s mouth. “You must drink too.” He obeyed. She then +stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the soft murmurings +of spring, prayed aloud. + +“Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has come +to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let him know +the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don’t spare him pain, dear +Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into him a noble soul.” + +Maskull listened with tears in his heart. + +As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and, +half buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of dazzlingly +white pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro between +distinctness and indistinctness, like an object being focused. Then they +faded out of sight again. + +“Is that a sign from Shaping?” asked Maskull, in a low, awed tone. + +“Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage.” + +“What can that be, Joiwind?” + +“You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do so, +because it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, wise men +will do hereafter in full knowledge.” + +“It is right for man to pray,” said Maskull. “Good and evil in the world +don’t originate from nothing. God and Devil must exist. And we should +pray to the one, and fight the other.” + +“Yes, we must fight Krag.” + +“What name did you say?” asked Maskull in amazement. + +“Krag—the author of evil and misery—whom you call Devil.” + +He immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from learning +his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. + +“Why do you hide your mind from me?” she demanded, looking at him +strangely and changing colour. + +“In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can +scarcely grasp its meaning.” But he lied. + +Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. “The +world is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my husband, +has travelled, and he has told me things I would almost rather have not +heard. One person he met believed the universe to be, from top to +bottom, a conjurer’s cave.” + +“I should like to meet your husband.” + +“Well, we are going home now.” + +Maskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, but +was afraid of offending her, and checked himself. + +She read the mental question. “What need is there? Is not the whole +world full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish possessions?” + +An extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five +distinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body, +paddled by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees. + +Joiwind pointed to it, as it went by. “I love that beast, grotesque as +it is—perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had children +of my own, would I still love it? Which is best—to love two or three, or +to love all?” + +“Every woman can’t be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to have a few +like you. Wouldn’t it be as well,” he went on, “since we’ve got to walk +through that sun-baked wilderness, to make turbans for our heads out of +some of those long leaves?” + +She smiled rather pathetically. “You will think me foolish, but every +tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have only to +throw our robes over our heads.” + +“No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me—weren’t these +very robes once part of a living creature?” + +“Oh, no—no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they have never +been in themselves alive.” + +“You reduce life to extreme simplicity,” remarked Maskull meditatively, +“but it is very beautiful.” + +Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began +their march across the desert. + +They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight toward +Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged their way to +lie due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very tiring to his naked +feet. The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him semi-blind. He was hot, +parched, and tormented with the craving to drink; his undertone of pain +emerged into full consciousness. + +“I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer.” + +“Yes, it is queer—if it is accidental,” said Joiwind, with a peculiar +intonation. + +“Exactly!” agreed Maskull. “If they had met with a mishap, their bodies +would still be there. It begins to look like a piece of bad work to me. +They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am here, and I must make +the best of it. I will trouble no more about them.” + +“I don’t wish to speak ill of anyone,” said Joiwind, “but my instinct +tells me that you are better away from those men. They did not come here +for your sake, but for their own.” + +They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint. She +twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of +confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. + +“Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?” + +“Yes,” she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. “But not much—and it +gives me great happiness.” + +Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born +lamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to the front, +and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete +rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into +pots of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining +eyes, as they passed. + +Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. “That’s a personal friend of mine, +Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It’s always waltzing, and +always in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere.” + +“It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is no +need for anyone to get anywhere. What I don’t quite understand is how +you manage to pass your days without ennui.” + +“That’s a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for excitement?” + +“Something of the kind,” said Maskull. + +“That must be a disease brought on by rich food.” + +“But are you never dull?” + +“How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh is +clean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you will +understand what sort of question you have asked.” + +Farther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of the +desert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, with a +cool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a fountain +in this respect—that the water of which it was composed did not return +to the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at the summit. It was +in fact a tall, graceful column of dark green fluid, with a capital of +coiling and twisting vapours. + +When they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was the +continuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down from +the direction of the mountains. The explanation of the phenomenon was +evidently that the water at this spot found chemical affinities in the +upper air, and consequently forsook the ground. + +“Now let us drink,” said Joiwind. + +She threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face +downward, by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in +following her example. She refused to quench her thirst until she had +seen him drink. He found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. He +drank copiously. It affected his palate in a new way—with the purity and +cleanness of water was combined the exhilaration of a sparkling wine, +raising his spirits—but somehow the intoxication brought out his better +nature, and not his lower. + +“We call it ‘gnawl water’,” said Joiwind. “This is not quite pure, as +you can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is crystal clear. But we +would be ungrateful if we complained. After this you’ll find we’ll get +along much better.” + +Maskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the first +time. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and wonders that +he had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring scarlet of the sands +became separated into a score of clearly distinguished shades of red. +The sky was similarly split up into different blues. The radiant heat of +Branchspell he found to affect every part of his body with unequal +intensities. His ears awakened; the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the +sands hummed, even the sun’s rays had a sound of their own—a kind of +faint Aeolian harp. Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his nostrils. His +palate lingered over the memory of the gnawl water. All the pores of his +skin were tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived currents of air. +His poigns explored actively the inward nature of everything in his +immediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew from her person a +stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve he exchanged +thoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony stirred him to +the depths, and throughout the walk of that endless morning he felt no +more fatigue. + +When it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy margin +of a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred. + +Panawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them. + + + +Chapter 7. PANAWE + +The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in +white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face +and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked +skin at all—it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh, +extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the +artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness and +delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the +manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair, +which fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from +vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was +still a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the +appearance of a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and +harmony. + +His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull saw +his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in her +husband’s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and smiling. +Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but +submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in +the act. + +“The stranger is red-blooded, then?” + +He was startled by Panawe’s speaking in English, and the voice too was +extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed +in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of +thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected. +How this could be, he did not know. + +“How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?” +demanded Maskull. + +“Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t say if I am really speaking +your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my thoughts +into your tongue as I utter them.” + +“Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind gaily. + +“What is your name?” asked the husband. + +“Maskull.” + +“That name must have a meaning—but again, thought is a strange thing. I +connect that name with something—but with what?” + +“Try to discover,” said Joiwind. + +“Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the Maker +of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?” + +“There is such a myth. The hero’s name was Prometheus.” + +“Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action—but what it +all means I can’t say, Maskull.” + +“Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks +thoughtlessly.” + +“There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,” said +Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative. + +“Where do you come from?” + +“From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.” + +“What for?” + +“I was tired of vulgarity,” returned Maskull laconically. He +intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that +Krag’s name should not come to light. + +“That’s an honourable motive,” said Panawe. “And what’s more, it may be +true, though you spoke it as a prevarication.” + +“As far as it goes, it’s quite true,” said Maskull, staring at him with +annoyance and surprise. + +The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were +standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds +showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was +dark green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it. + +Joiwind caught his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake will bear +us?” + +Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his +weight. Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip +about—nevertheless the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by +watching and imitating Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself +without assistance. After that he found the sport excellent. + +For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind’s half falls +and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either of +the men. Her slight, draped form—dipping, bending, rising, swaying, +twisting, upon the surface of the dark water—this was a picture Maskull +could not keep his eyes away from. + +The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags, +gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in +detail. A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet. The +surface of the lake grew disturbed—so much so that Maskull had +difficulty in keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and +started swimming on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and +laughed so joyously that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight. + +They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The +water on Maskull’s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed +upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange +movements on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was +working convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his +hand to his mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured +pebble. He looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked, +over his shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection, +Panawe let the object—whatever it was—fall to the ground, and took no +more interest in it. + +“May I look?” asked Maskull; and, without waiting for permission, he +picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped crystal of pale +green. + +“Where did this come from?” he asked queerly. + +Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. “It came out of my +husband.” + +“That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t believe it. But what is it?” + +“I don’t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an +overflowing of beauty.” + +“Beauty?” + +Joiwind smiled. “If you were to regard nature as the husband, and Panawe +as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.” + +Maskull reflected. + +“On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are called artists, +poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and out of them +again. The only distinction is that their productions are more human and +intelligible.” + +“Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe, and, taking the crystal +out of Maskull’s hand, he threw it into the lake. + +The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. +Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently +tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of +the two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet +thoughts. The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight. +The heat of Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing, the +radiance was shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull’s pain +steadily grew worse. + +When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of +vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. +It was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of +the cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The hills +varied in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a +thousand feet above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind +of glittering vegetation which he could not comprehend. + +Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder, and pointed upward. “Here +you have the highest peak in the whole land—that is, until you come to +the Ifdawn Marest.” + +On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable +sensation of wild vigour and restlessness—but it passed away. + +Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower +half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it +grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth +became thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the +summit, tall forest trees appeared. + +These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the +small twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast no +shadows from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and +branches were fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, +however, was the fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two +plants belonged to the same species. + +“Won’t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?” said Joiwind, pulling +her husband’s arm. + +He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for again trespassing in his brain. But +the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is necessarily +energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is still +fluid—not yet rigid—and matter is plastic. The will forks and sports +incessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.” + +“Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after listening +attentively. “But what I don’t grasp is this—if living creatures here +sport so energetically, how does it come about that human beings wear +much the same shape as in my world?” + +“I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All creatures that resemble +Shaping must of necessity resemble one another.” + +“Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?” + +“Exactly.” + +“It is most wonderful,” said Maskull. “Then the brotherhood of man is +not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.” + +Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into +sternness. + +Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured +blossoms of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his +breve he could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, “To me! To +me!” While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to one +of these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry +immediately ceased. + +They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A +lake occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly +intercepted the view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this +mountain lake was nearly circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile +across. Its shore stood a hundred feet below them. + +Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to +wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he +found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency. +He walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths. +It was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance, +without arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out +of reach of his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and +mysterious, seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense +depth. It was like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal +length, but the accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable +time, and then ceased. + +The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that in +which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and +unbelievable—the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. It +resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only +occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. + +He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his +experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down +on the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked +the desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose +dimensions could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet he +could not make out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of +transparent glass, but it did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in +it could be distinguished, except a rolling river in the far distance, +and, farther off still, on the horizon, a line of dark mountains, of +strange shapes. Instead of being rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these +heights were carved by nature into the semblance of castle battlements, +but with extremely deep indentations. + +The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. It +contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the +heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the +afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset. + +Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble +became his feelings. + +“What is that light?” + +Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. “It is +Alppain—our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are the Ifdawn +Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter.” + +“Is it imagination, or am I really being affected—tormented by that +light?” + +“No, it’s not imagination—it’s real. How can it be otherwise when two +suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same time? Luckily +you are not looking at Alppain itself. It’s invisible here. You would +need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.” + +“Why do you say ‘luckily’?” + +“Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be more +than you could bear.... But I don’t know.” + +For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very +thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye +chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and +stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. +Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led +the way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain +and terminated in the mouth of a cave. + +This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The +host took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly +sprinkled the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent +light gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and +continued to illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was +no furniture. Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches. + +The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband +tended her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, +energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the +sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was +distressed. + +Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. “It’s quite true this has +been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will +lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of +sacrifice.” + +“I can’t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,” said Maskull, +“and she has been twice the distance.” + +“Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that’s why she is so +strong.” + +“You know she gave me some of it?” + +“Otherwise you couldn’t even have started.” + +“I shall never forget that.” + +The languorous heat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern, +the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited +Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude. + +“Will it disturb her if we talk?” + +“No.” + +“But how do you feel?” + +“I require little sleep. In any case, it’s more important that you +should hear something about your new life. It’s not all as innocent and +idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be instructed +about the dangers.” + +“Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange—shall I put questions, +or will you tell me what you think is most essential?” + +Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the +same time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs. + +“I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from +them what sort of place you have come to.” + +“I shall be grateful,” said Maskull, preparing himself to listen. + +Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in +tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones. + +PANAWE’S STORY + +“My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old +(that’s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more slowly +here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in +Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through +trees for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we +went along, until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark +red colour and the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping +to think. If left uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep +abstraction. My mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different +stamp. She was beautiful, generous, and charming—but also active. She +kept urging him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made +me miserable. On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest +which bordered on the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water +that will not bear a man’s weight, and as these light parts don’t differ +in appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed +out a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. +Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the same +day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest, +surrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big +gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a +hundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His +body was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed +at equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of great +watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I +afterward heard this saying of his: ‘To lie is to sleep, to sit is to +dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the infection, and fell +into meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol +scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too +learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a +prodigy—that is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled over +this, and wished to consult the wisest of men. + +“Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, ‘This perhaps will not be so +difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among us is a +walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the female +who was born in the same body with him—if a female, she has killed the +male. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.’ + +“‘How shall we end it?’ asked my mother. + +“‘Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, and it will +be of whichever sex it pleases.’ + +“‘You want, of course, to be a man, don’t you?’ said my mother to me +earnestly. + +“‘Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a crime.’ + +“Something in my tone attracted Broodviol’s notice. + +“‘That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore the male +must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you arrive +home, the child will be a boy.’ + +“My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before +Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking +kindly at her. + +“I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a few +hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died. + +“His prophecy came true—before we reached home, I knew the meaning of +shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later years, +when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the +conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite +straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in +one body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for +life withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was the +stronger temperament, and she sacrificed herself—though not +consciously—for me. + +“As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or destroy +anything that contained life—and I have kept it ever since. + +“While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother’s death +followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I +therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother’s country, where, as +she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary. + +“One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is so called either +because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous character. +It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the mountains +bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies below at a +depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet—a terrible precipice on +either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not much over a +foot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley on my right +hand was plunged in shadow—that on my left was sparkling with sunlight +and dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for some miles. +Far to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, connecting +the two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most towering +pinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but I have +heard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is that +they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to +travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with +whom they reside. + +“Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, +clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the +ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like +a different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I saw +someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart +again, for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I went +slowly on, and presently we drew near enough together for me to +recognise the walker. It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had +never met him before, but I knew him by his peculiarities of person. He +was of a bright gamboge colour and possessed a very long, proboscis-like +nose, which appeared to be a useful organ, but did not add to his +beauty, as I knew beauty. He was dubbed ‘sorcerer’ from his wondrous +skill in budding limbs and organs. The tale is told that one evening he +slowly sawed his leg off with a blunt stone and then lay for two days in +agony while his new leg was sprouting. He was not reputed to be a +consistently wise man, but he had periodical flashes of penetration and +audacity that none could equal. + +“We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart. + +“‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. His manner was as +calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible with hidden +terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this humiliation. We +continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many minutes. + +“‘What is greater than Pleasure?’ he asked suddenly. + +“I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any emergency, +so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the conversation, as if +it were for that purpose we had met. + +“‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘for pain drives out pleasure.’ + +“‘What is greater than Pain?’ + +“I reflected. ‘Love. Because we will accept our loved one’s share of +pain.’ + +“‘But what is greater than Love?’ he persisted. + +“‘Nothing, Slofork.’ + +“‘And what is Nothing?’ + +“‘That you must tell me.’ + +“‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a good child +here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But there’s +another world—not Shaping’s—and there all this is unknown, and another +order of things reigns. That world we call Nothing—but it is not +Nothing, but Something.’ + +“There was a pause. + +“‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at growing and ungrowing +organs?’ + +“‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the same story. I want +to hear different stories.’ + +“‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in pulses?’ + +“‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had it from did not add +that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’ + +“‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that wisdom is misery.’ + +“‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and never +will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful face. You +will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own way.’ + +“Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the +path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum +toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, +and shut my eyes. + +“Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks it +was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide. +Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to +speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others. + +“I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for +four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the +possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly +through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the +third extraordinary personage of my experience—the grim Muremaker. It +was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I +saw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was +hanging in an upright position in front of a cliff—a yawning gulf, a +thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could, +and looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to +turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I +could not even grasp what had happened. + +“‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which shocked my ears. +‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell +out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. While the strength +of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but when he gets tired—and +it can’t be long now—I drop into those depths.’ + +“Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this ogre- +like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole +existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake +of his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day. + +“In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a +month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to +part.” + +Panawe stopped speaking. + +“That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I begin to know my +way around better. But one thing puzzles me.” + +“What’s that?” + +“How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and have +no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and wise +in their thoughts.” + +“Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I see +how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make up +for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of +stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.” + +“No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a great deal to +unlearn.” + +They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. +Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again. + + + +Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN + +Maskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and +walked out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He +climbed to the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. The +afterglow of Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The mountains +stood up wild and grand. + +They impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which are +widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and +adventure seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment that +the determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest and +explore its dangers. + +He returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts. + +Joiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. “Is this +selfishness, Maskull?” she asked, “or are you drawn by something +stronger than yourself?” + +“We must be reasonable,” he answered, smiling. “I can’t settle down in +Poolingdred before I have found out something about this surprising new +planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have come.... But very +likely I shall come back here.” + +“Will you make me a promise?” + +Maskull hesitated. “Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my powers +yet.” + +“It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this—never to raise your hand +against a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, without +first recollecting its mother, who suffered for it.” + +“Perhaps I won’t promise that,” said Maskull slowly, “but I’ll undertake +something more tangible. I will never lift my hand against a living +creature without first recollecting you, Joiwind.” + +She turned a little pale. “Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, he +might be jealous.” + +Panawe put his hand on her gently. “You would not talk like that in +Shaping’s presence,” he said. + +“No. Forgive me! I’m not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull’s blood in +my veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he will do only +honourable deeds, wherever he may be.” + +“I’ll set Maskull on his way,” said Panawe. + +“There’s no need,” replied Maskull. “The way is plain.” + +“But talking shortens the road.” + +Maskull turned to go. + +Joiwind pulled him around toward her softly. “You won’t think badly of +other women on my account?” + +“You are a blessed spirit,” answered he. + +She trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there +thinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. Halfway down the +cliff face a little spring was encountered. Its water was colourless, +transparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull had satisfied his thirst he +felt himself different. His surroundings were so real to him in their +vividness and colour, so unreal in their phantom-like mystery, that he +scrambled downhill like one in a winter’s dream. + +When they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable +forest of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily foreign +looking. The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it was as if +he were gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they got underneath +the trees the light rays of the sun continued to come through—white, +savage, and blazing—but they were gelded of heat. Then it was not hard +to imagine that they were wandering through cool, bright elfin glades. + +Through the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly +straight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see. + +Maskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow +unable to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable +smile—stern, yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the +silence, but, strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he +was singing or speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical recitative, +exactly like a bewitching adagio from a low toned stringed +instrument—but there was a difference. Instead of the repetition and +variation of one or two short themes, as in music, Panawe’s theme was +prolonged—it never came to an end, but rather resembled a conversation +in rhythm and melody. And, at the same time, it was no recitative, for +it was not declamatory. It was a long, quiet stream of lovely emotion. + +Maskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be +termed song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear and +intelligible—not with the intelligibility of words, but in the way one +sympathises with another’s moods and feelings; and Maskull felt that +something important was about to be uttered, which would explain all +that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, he never +understood—and yet somehow he did understand. + +Late in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe ceased +his recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the fashion of a man +who wishes to convey that he intends to go no farther. + +“What is the name of this country?” asked Maskull. + +“It is the Lusion Plain.” + +“Was that music in the nature of a temptation—do you wish me not to go +on?” + +“Your work lies before you, and not behind you.” + +“What was it, then? What work do you allude to?” + +“It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull.” + +“It seemed like Shaping music to me.” + +The instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why he +had done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him. + +Panawe, however, showed no surprise. “Shaping you will find everywhere.” + +“Am I dreaming, or awake?” + +“You are awake.” + +Maskull fell into deep thought. “So be it,” he said, rousing himself. +“Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?” + +“You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of the +Marest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the forest and +river meet.” + +“Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?” + +“Only this, Maskull—wherever you go, help to make the world beautiful, +and not ugly.” + +“That’s more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, and have +no ambitions in the way of beautifying life—But tell Joiwind I will try +to keep myself pure.” + +They parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had stopped, +and watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once. + +He became aware that something was about to happen. The air was +breathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his frame +in voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced through the +sky overhead. + +A single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere behind +him. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at first; but +then it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the same time that +it increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, but now it was as +if blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his head. Then it +gradually diminished in force, and travelled away in front of him. It +ended very faintly and distantly. + +He felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his +heart. Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day did +not exist for him. He was unconscious of himself—he had no thoughts and +no feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude for him. + +A man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed +that his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was young +rather than old. Maskull observed that his countenance possessed none of +the special organs of Tormance, to which he had not even yet become +reconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person seemed to radiate an +excess of life, like the trembling of air on a hot day. His eyes had +such force that Maskull could not meet them. + +He addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a double +tone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an undertone, +like a sympathetic tanging string. + +Maskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence of +this individual. He believed that something good was happening to him. +He found it physically difficult to bring any words out. “Why do you +stop me?” + +“Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?” + +“I think you are Shaping.” + +“I am Surtur.” + +Maskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were being +stabbed. + +“You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you +here? I wish you to serve me.” + +Maskull could no longer speak. + +“Those who joke at my world,” continued the vision, “those who make a +mock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, which are +not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots—they shall not escape.” + +“I do not mock it.” + +“Ask me your questions, and I will answer them.” + +“I have nothing.” + +“It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not understand? +You are my servant and helper.” + +“I shall not fail.” + +“This is for my sake, and not for yours.” + +These last words had no sooner left Surtur’s mouth than Maskull saw him +spring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of the sky, +he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur’s form—not as a +concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and +frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out. + +Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the +solitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the far +distance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with regularly +increasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and then grew more +and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away in the rear, +until the note was merged in the deathlike silence of the forest. It +appeared to Maskull like the closing of a marvellous and important +chapter. + +Simultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed to +open up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of immeasurable +height. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his limbs, and looked +around him with a slow smile. + +After a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and +confused, but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the +rest—huge, shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul of a +creative artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of destiny. + +The more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in +this new world—and even before leaving Earth—the clearer and more +indisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own purposes, +but must be here for an end. But what that end was, he could not +imagine. + +Through the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. It +looked a stupendous ball of red fire—now he could realise at his ease +what a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left and began +to descend steeply. + +A wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of +him, no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest path +led him straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and regarded the +lapping, gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite bank, the forest +continued. Miles to the south, Poolingdred could just be distinguished. +On the northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains loomed up—high, wild, +beautiful, and dangerous. They were not a dozen miles away. + +Like the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths of +cool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In spite +of his bodily fatigue, he wished to test his strength against something. +This craving he identified with the crags of the Marest. They seemed to +have the same magical attraction for his will as the lodestone for iron. +He kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that +direction—wondering if it would not be possible to conquer the heights +that evening. But when he glanced back again at Poolingdred, he +remembered Joiwind and Panawe, and grew more tranquil. He decided to +make his bed at this spot, and to set off as soon after daybreak as he +should awake. + +He drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to +sleep. By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared +nothing for the possible dangers of the night—he confided in his star. + +Branchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came on, +and through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, he was +awakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, and wondered +where he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow was a terrestrial +phenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got up and went toward the +source of the light. + +Away from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled across +the form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the crimson rays +was lying on the ground, several yards away from her. It was like a +small jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He barely threw a glance +at that, however. + +The woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big, +smooth, shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a thin +tentacle, but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, which was +upturned, was wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. But he saw with +surprise that in place of a breve on her forehead, she possessed another +eye. All three were closed. The colour of her skin in the crimson glow +he could not distinguish. + +He touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up at +him without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but the two +lower ones were dull and vacant—mere carriers of vision. The middle, +upper one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, unflinching +glare had yet something seductive and alluring in it. Maskull felt a +challenge in that look of lordly, feminine will, and his manner +instinctively stiffened. + +She sat up. + +“Can you speak my language?” he asked. “I wouldn’t put such a question, +but others have been able to.” + +“Why should you imagine that I can’t read your mind? Is it so extremely +complex?” + +She spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to +listen to. + +“No, but you have no breve.” + +“Well, but haven’t I a sorb, which is better?” And she pointed to the +eye on her brow. + +“What is your name?” + +“Oceaxe.” + +“And where do you come from?” + +“Ifdawn.” + +These contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere sound +of her voice was fascinating. + +“I am going there tomorrow,” he remarked. + +She laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment. + +“My name is Maskull,” he went on. “I am a stranger—from another world.” + +“So I should judge, from your absurd appearance.” + +“Perhaps it would be as well to say at once,” said Maskull bluntly, “are +we, or are we not, to be friends?” + +She yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. “Why should we be +friends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a lover.” + +“You must look elsewhere for that.” + +“So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace.” + +She dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her +eyes. + +“What are you doing here?” he interrogated. + +“Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there often +enough it is a night for us which has no next morning.” + +“Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, it +would be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to expect +in the way of dangers.” + +“I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you,” +retorted Oceaxe. + +“Are you returning in the morning?” persisted Maskull. + +“If I wish.” + +“Then we will go together.” + +She got up again on her elbow. “Instead of making plans for other +people, I would do a very necessary thing.” + +“Pray, tell me.” + +“Well, there’s no reason why I should, but I will. I would try to +convert my women’s organs into men’s organs. It is a man’s country.” + +“Speak more plainly.” + +“Oh, it’s plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn without a +sorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too is worse than +useless.” + +“You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do you +advise me to do?” + +She negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the ground. + +“There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a good +while, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will do the +rest during the night. I promise nothing.” + +Oceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull. + +He considered for a few minutes, and then walked over to where the stone +was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the size of a hen’s +egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, and throwing out a +continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks. + +Finally deciding that Oceaxe’s advice was good, he applied the drude +first to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a cauterising +sensation—a feeling of healing pain. + + + +Chapter 9. OCEAXE + +Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already above +the horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs had +changed during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelike +sorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springing +from the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physical +security, but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before he +could grasp its function. + +As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of his +three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his +understanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lower +eyes he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; with +the sorb he saw nothing as self-existent—everything appeared as an +object of importance or non-importance to his own needs. + +Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked about +him. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if she +were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up his +mind to bathe in the river. + +It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, but +its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through the +trees. A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked like +animals, and were always changing shape. The ground, as well as the +leaves and branches of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dew +or rain during the night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered his +nostrils. His pain was quiescent, and his spirits were high. + +Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In the +morning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they were +from five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellated +line seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him were +composed of gaudy rocks—vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and black. +As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy drum, +and he thrilled all over—indescribable hopes, aspirations, and emotions +came over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which he +felt—it was something different.... + +He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolled +indolently up. + +He could now perceive the colour of her skin—it was a vivid, yet +delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlingly +unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuine +representative of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curious +about it. The curves were womanly, the bones were characteristically +female—yet all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlying +will. The commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainer +language. Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex +and softness. + +She came to the river’s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. “Now you +are built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, lingering voice. + +“You see, the experiment was successful,” he answered, smiling gaily. + +Oceaxe continued looking him over. “Did some woman give you that +ridiculous robe?” + +“A woman did give it to me”—dropping his smile—“but I saw nothing +ridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don’t now.” + +“I think I’d look better in it.” + +As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suited +her form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed, +rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was in +fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress. +Oceaxe in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him. + +“I don’t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,” she +remarked slowly. + +“Why not? What can I be to you?” + +“I have been thinking about you during the night.” Her voice was +retarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallen +tree, and looked away. + +“In what way?” + +She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces of +the bark. + +“Last night you were so contemptuous.” + +“Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with your +head over your shoulder?” + +It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent. + +“Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can’t go +on resisting me forever.” + +“But this is preposterous,” said Maskull, opening his eyes wide. +“Granted that you are a beautiful woman—we can’t be quite so primeval.” + +Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait.” + +“From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my society. I +have no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only on condition that you +drop this language.” + +“Yet you do think me beautiful?” + +“Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see what that +has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will find +plenty of men to admire—and love you.” + +At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you +imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not +Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?” + +“Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the +temptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely woman is +concerned. I am not my own master.” + +“I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you humiliate +me so?” + +Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my own +master.” + +“Then who is your master?” + +“Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.” + +“Did you speak with him?” she asked curiously. + +“I did.” + +“Tell me what he said.” + +“No, I can’t—I won’t. But whatever he said, his beauty was more +tormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that’s why I can look at you in cold +blood.” + +“Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?” + +Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have +thought it effeminate.” + +“It doesn’t matter. You won’t always be so boyish. But don’t try my +patience too far.” + +“Let us talk about something else—and, above all, let us get on our +road.” + +She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he +grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. “Oh, +Maskull, Maskull—what a fool you are!” + +“In what way am I a fool?” he demanded, scowling—not at her words, but +at his own weakness. + +“Isn’t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of lovers? And +yet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away from nature, +but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?” + +“Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: persistence.” + +“Read me well, and then it is natural law that you’ll think twice and +three times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, we had +better eat.” + +“Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully. + +“Don’t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?” + +“What food is it?” + +“Fish from the river.” + +Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felt +hungry. + +“Is there nothing milder?” + +She pulled her mouth scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’t +you? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be looked +at, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have to +change your notions.” + +“Go catch your fish,” he returned, pulling down his brows. + +The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, from +the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, and +peered into the depths. Presently her look became tense and +concentrated; she dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of little +monster. It was more like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly plates +and teeth. She threw it on the ground, and it started crawling about. +Suddenly she darted all her will into her sorb. The creature leaped into +the air, and fell down dead. + +She picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales and +entrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stained +with the light scarlet blood. + +“Find the drude, Maskull,” she said, with a lazy smile. “You had it last +night.” + +He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dull +and feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it in +the interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground. + +“While it’s cooking, I’ll wash some of this blood away, which frightens +you so much. Have you never seen blood before?” + +Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back—the +contrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful, +masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with the +fascinating and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea +flashed into his mind. + +“In your country I’m told there is an act of will called ‘absorbing.’ +What is that?” + +She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a +delicious, clashing laugh. “You think I am half a man?” + +“Answer my question.” + +“I’m a woman through and through, Maskull—to the marrowbone. But that’s +not to say I have never absorbed males.” + +“And that means...” + +“New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a stormier +heart...” + +“For you, yes—But for them?...” + +“I don’t know. The victims don’t describe their experiences. Probably +unhappiness of some sort—if they still know anything.” + +“This is a fearful business!” he exclaimed, regarding her gloomily. “One +would think Ifdawn a land of devils.” + +Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river. +“Better men than you—better in every sense of the word—are walking about +with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like, +Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simple +natures were made to be absorbed.” + +“And human rights count for nothing!” + +She had bent over the river’s edge, to wash her arms and hands, but +glanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. “They do count. But +we only regard a man as human for just as long as he’s able to hold his +own with others.” + +The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast +heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. Whether +it was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long +abstention, he did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even +cannibalistic. He ate little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled. + +“Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,” said +Oceaxe. “On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull with me, +to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.” + +They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a +sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had the +contrary effect—it caused them to exert themselves, and they moved +faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The +exercise gradually improved the circulation of Maskull’s blood, and he +began to look at things in a far more cheerful way. The hot sunshine, +the diminished wind, the marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet, crystal +forests—all was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer and +nearer to the gaily painted heights of Ifdawn. + +There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was +attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the +same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost, +painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings +produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull’s +impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices. + +He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have most extraordinary +shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular—no slopes or +curves.” + +She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. “That’s typical +of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and +gradual.” + +“I hear you, but I don’t understand you.” + +“All over the Marest you’ll find patches of ground plunging down or +rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice before +acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.” + +Maskull was impressed. “A fresh, wild, primitive land.” + +“How is it where you come from?” asked Oceaxe. + +“Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years to +move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks. +Originality is a lost habit.” + +“Are there women there?” + +“As with you, and not very differently formed.” + +“Do they love?” + +He laughed. “So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and +thoughts of the whole sex.” + +“Probably they are more beautiful than I?” + +“No, I think not,” said Maskull. + +There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily +onward. + +“What is your business in Ifdawn?” demanded Oceaxe suddenly. + +He hesitated over his answer. “Can you grasp that it’s possible to have +an aim right in front of one, so big that one can’t see it as a whole?” + +She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, “What sort of aim?” + +“A moral aim.” + +“Are you proposing to set the world right?” + +“I propose nothing—I am waiting.” + +“Don’t wait too long, for time doesn’t wait—especially in Ifdawn.” + +“Something will happen,” said Maskull. + +Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. “So you have no special destination in the +Marest?” + +“No, and if you’ll permit me, I will come home with you.” + +“Singular man!” she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. “That’s what I +have been offering all the time. Of course you will come home with me. +As for Crimtyphon...” + +“You mentioned that name before. Who is he?” + +“Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.” + +“This doesn’t improve matters,” said Maskull. + +“It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove him.” + +“We are certainly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, quite +startled. “Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a compact with +you?” + +“You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to come +home with me.” + +“Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?” + +“Either you or I must kill him.” + +He eyed her for a full minute. “Now we are passing from folly to +insanity.” + +“Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the too-sad truth. And when you +have seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.” + +“I’m aware I am on a strange planet,” said Maskull slowly, “where all +sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where the very laws of +morality may be different. Still as far as I am concerned, murder is +murder, and I’ll have no more to do with a woman who wants to make use +of me, to get rid of her husband.” + +“You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily. + +“Or mad.” + +“Then you had better leave me, Maskull—only—” + +“Only what?” + +“You wish to be consistent, don’t you? Leave all other mad and wicked +people as well. Then you’ll find it easier to reform the rest.” + +Maskull frowned, but said nothing. + +“Well?” demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile. + +“I’ll come with you, and I’ll see Crimtyphon—if only to warn him.” + +Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether at +the image conjured up by Maskull’s last words, or from some other cause, +he did not know. The conversation dropped. + +At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the +river made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer of +use to them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully. + +“It’s a stiff climb for a hot morning.” + +“Let’s rest here a little,” said she, indicating a smooth flat island of +black rock, standing up just out of the water in the middle of the +river. + +They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however, +standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite, +and uttered a piercing and peculiar call. + +“What is that for?” She did not answer. After waiting a minute, she +repeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself from the +top of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. It was +followed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly slow +and clumsy. + +“What are they?” he asked. + +She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat down +beside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapes +and colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures +with long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminating +in fins which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legs +and fins were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhat +ominous fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thin +spike projecting from each of the heads. + +“They are shrowks,” explained Oceaxe at last. “If you want to know their +intention, I’ll tell you. To make a meal of us. First of all their +spikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are really suckers, +will drain us dry of blood—pretty thoroughly too; there are no half +measures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don’t eat flesh.” + +“As you show such admirable sangfroid,” said Maskull dryly, “I take it +there’s no particular danger.” + +Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. A +new form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground. + +“Are you trying to get up?” asked Oceaxe smoothly. + +“Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to the +rock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in view +in waking them up?” + +“I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking and +asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with your +will.” + +“I seem to have no will, unfortunately.” + +Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich and +beautiful. “It’s obvious you aren’t a very heroic protector, Maskull. It +seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I expected better things +of your big body. Why, my husband would send those creatures dancing all +around the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing of them. Now watch +me. Two of the three I’ll kill; the third we will ride home on. Which +one shall we keep?” + +The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their +bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of +loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted +with their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift +motion. + +“Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are equally +objectionable to me.” + +“Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most energetic +animal. Watch now.” + +She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt +something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The two +monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the +earth, one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and +then lie motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied +that its flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but +tame and unwilling. + +Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their +island rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure. +They immediately crossed the water. + +Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet +long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; a +mane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome and +unnatural, with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood- +sucking cavity. There were true fins on its back and tail. + +“Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s flank. “As +I have to steer, let me jump on first.” + +She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’s +back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the fin +there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his +outer hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and for +additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it. + +Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this +ride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires. + +The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had +been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which was +communicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling, +passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but +Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his +feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The ride +will last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like a flute, +but rather malicious. + +Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm. + +The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose +slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward the +painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the +contact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, was +merely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, holding +on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the +knowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was +responding to his touch like a lovely harp. + +They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around +him. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer +rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of +islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands +were mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a +high tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless +cracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like +lakes, in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The +perpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts of +the innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; but the +level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees alone +were distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of different +shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying but did +not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage. + +As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his +passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay +and bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across +the sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no +aesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for action +and possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted to +deal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky; +attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to +play a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the +scenery had no significance for him. + +So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe +turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what +she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord. + +“Cold again so quickly, Maskull?” + +“What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the side. +“It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.” + +“You wish to take a hand?” + +“I wish to get down.” + +“Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?” + +“Different from what? What are you talking about?” said Maskull, still +lost in abstraction. + +Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make a man of +you, for the material is excellent.” + +After that, she turned her back once more. + +The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were +not on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken +terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying +well above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs +confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to +enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel. +They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above +thirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many +hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted +to plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity. + +“What is at the bottom?” he asked. + +“Death for you, if you go to look for it.” + +“We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?” + +“Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of course all things +are possible.” + +“I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully. + +Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and see?” + +“You find that amusing?” + +“No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the +beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.” + +Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance +which is not a novelty for me.” + +“Yes, but I am a novelty for you.” + +The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain, +and all the time they were gradually rising. + +“At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said Maskull, +who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last ready for +conversation. + +“What’s the matter with my voice?” + +“It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why I mentioned it.” + +“Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?” + +“Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.” + +“Inappropriate?” + +“I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but whether you are speaking +or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest and strangest instrument +I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is inappropriate.” + +“You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?” + +He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken +off by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the +gulf directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder. + +“The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe. + +“Shall we escape?” + +She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such a +steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor +of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be +heard, and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip +in the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. +A hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each +second—splitting, hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, +roaring. When they had still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, a +sort of dark, indefinite sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under +their feet, ascending rapidly, with irresistible might, accompanied by +the most horrible noises. The canal was filled up for two hundred yards, +before and behind them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be +raised. The shrowk in its ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. +Beast and riders experienced in that moment all the horrors of an +earthquake—they were rolled violently over, and thrown among the rocks +and dirt. All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion. + +Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the +sunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the +valley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher +than the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as +if by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up +and examined themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its +side, panting violently, and sweating with fright. + +“That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off his +person. + +Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe. + +“It might have been far worse.... I mean, it’s bad enough to come up, +but it’s death to go down, and that happens just as often.” + +“Whatever induces you to live in such a country?” + +“I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought of moving +out of it.” + +“A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a +place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to +another.” + +“You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling. + +She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet. + +“Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her perch. “We +haven’t too much time to waste.” + +He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the +mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his +thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into +his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit +there in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be +doing something. + +“How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without turning +her head. + +“What secrets—what do you mean?” + +“Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I think it +wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still enough?” + +“Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve far too many +problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some of them.” + +He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way toward +a distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural +quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a +broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered. + +“What mountain is that?” he asked. + +“Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.” + +“Are we going there?” + +“Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might be +worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land +as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. You can also +see Alppain from it.” + +“That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.” + +“Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his wrist. +“Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn together.” + +He grunted unintelligibly. + +There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet. +While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not +far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful +roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one +minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with +the shock. “This is frightful.” + +Oceaxe remained unmoved. + +“Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, when he had +somewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of steel.... Is +there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?” + +“Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” replied Oceaxe, +with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but that doesn’t +prevent our often getting caught.” + +“You had better teach me the signs.” + +“We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I expect, +will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first let us +get home.” + +“How far is it now?” + +“It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her +forefinger. “You can see it.” + +He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made +out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two +miles distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the +bottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it +to the mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in +the brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle +of the peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with +sea-green leaves. + +“I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can I see two +figures, or am I mistaken?” + +“I also see something,” said Maskull. + +In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of +about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on the +mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both +descended—Maskull with aching thighs. + +“What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without waiting for a +suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. “Fly away home! I +may want you some other time.” + +It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after +half running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air, +and paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They +watched it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of +land, followed by Maskull. + +Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The sky +had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. The +ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses. +Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—and +occasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked +extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird +Ifdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen +from a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but +only desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. He +longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else +seemed of the least importance to him. + +On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a +large copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of +small trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps the +roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller +fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling +fountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides, +overhung with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with +an air of wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god might +have dwelt here. + +Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who +formed the centre of the picture. + +One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a +tall couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and +was eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums +lay on the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree +completely sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad +in a rough skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from +his face whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were +smooth, soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil; +but his violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the +colour of yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it was +violet. The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet +away from him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, +and rather commonplace, but there was something terrible about his +appearance. The features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, +despair, and horror. + +Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost +shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch. + +“We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking toward +the youth. + +He eyed her, but said nothing. + +“How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial but +extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the +ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down the +skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with +crossed arms. + +There was silence for a minute. + +“Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” said the boy on the couch, +in a calm, treble voice. + +The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a +strangled tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already +buds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.” + +Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that +although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by +the boy. + +“What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow roots will +reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well established. +Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, and his +fingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head into a +crown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that within a month +you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from this new and +remarkable tree.” + +“I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out his hand +for another plum. “They thrill me.” + +“This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward. + +The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as +if he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat. + +“The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again after +Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I expect, so +you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your roots. +Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear to you now, +in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. Now you +may go.” + +The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe +yawned. + +Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you joking, +or are you a devil?” + +“I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will devise +a new punishment for you.” + +The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched +her beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the +struggle between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; he +reached out his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self- +control broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—his +beard wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he had +to deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a +terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He +gathered together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight +continued his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying +to get away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled +forward, recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of +mosses, to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his +bulk. Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, +so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died. + +The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull +viewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder +came into his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s face +had undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal +character had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask +which expressed nothing. + +He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen +the brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face +of the apparition at the siance, after Krag had dealt with it. + + + +Chapter 10. TYDOMIN + +Oceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating the +plums. + +“You see, you had to kill him, Maskull,” she said, in a rather quizzical +voice. + +He came away from the corpse and regarded her—still red, and still +breathing hard. “It’s no joking matter. You especially ought to keep +quiet.” + +“Why?” + +“Because he was your husband.” + +“You think I ought to show grief—when I feel none?” + +“Don’t pretend, woman!” + +Oceaxe smiled. “From your manner one would think you were accusing me of +some crime.” + +Maskull literally snorted at her words. “What, you live with filth—you +live in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then—” + +“Oh, now I grasp it,” she said, in a tone of perfect detachment. + +“I’m glad.” + +“Well, Maskull,” she proceeded, after a pause, “and who gave you the +right to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?” + +He looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another long +interval of silence. + +“I never loved him,” said Oceaxe at last, looking at the ground. + +“That makes it all the worse.” + +“What does all this mean—what do you want?” + +“Nothing from you—absolutely nothing—thank heaven!” + +She gave a hard laugh. “You come here with your foreign preconceptions +and expect us all to bow down to them.” + +“What preconceptions?” + +“Just because Crimtyphon’s sports are strange to you, you murder him—and +you would like to murder me.” + +“Sports! That diabolical cruelty.” + +“Oh, you’re sentimental!” said Oceaxe contemptuously. “Why do you need +to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, all the world over, and +one form is as good as another. He was only to be made a tree, like a +million other trees. If they can endure the life, why can’t he?” + +“And this is Ifdawn morality!” + +Oceaxe began to grow angry. “It’s you who have peculiar ideas. You rave +about the beauty of flowers and trees—you think them divine. But when +it’s a question of taking on this divine, fresh, pure, enchanting +loveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately becomes a cruel +and wicked degradation. Here we have a strange riddle, in my opinion.” + +“Oceaxe, you’re a beautiful, heartless wild beast—nothing more. If you +weren’t a woman—” + +“Well”—curling her lip—“let us hear what would happen if I weren’t a +woman?” + +Maskull bit his nails. + +“It doesn’t matter. I can’t touch you—though there’s certainly not the +difference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. For this you may +thank my ‘foreign preconceptions.’... Farewell!” + +He turned to go. Oceaxe’s eyes slanted at him through their long lashes. + +“Where are you off to, Maskull?” + +“That’s a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must be a change +for the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!” + +“Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just starting, +and you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can quickly put that +body out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so much, the place is +big enough—we needn’t talk, or even see each other.” + +“I don’t wish to breathe the same air.” + +“Singular man!” She was sitting erect and motionless, like a beautiful +statue. “And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, and all the +undone things which you set out to do?” + +“You aren’t the one I shall speak to about that. But”—he eyed her +meditatively—“while I’m still here you can tell me this. What’s the +meaning of the expression on that corpse’s face?” + +“Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. Ought +they not to?” + +“I once heard it called ‘Crystalman’s face.’” + +“Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is doubtless +the family resemblance.” + +“It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the +same.” + +“You have wise and truthful acquaintances.” + +“Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?” said Maskull, more to +himself than to her. “That apparition was something quite different.” + +She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, +gently pulled his arm. + +“You see—we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your questions. +I’m not excessively smart, but I’ll try to be of assistance.” + +Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She +bent toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, +cool, feminine breath should fan his cheek. + +“Aren’t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then what does +it matter who sent you?” + +“What can you possibly know of good and evil?” + +“Are you only instructing the initiated?” + +“Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you’re quite right. I wish to +do what I can—not because I am qualified, but because I am here.” + +Oceaxe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a giant, both in body and +soul. What you want to do, you can do.” + +“Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own +ends?” + +She sighed. “Don’t you see how difficult you are making the +conversation? Let’s talk about your work, not about ourselves.” + +Maskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern +sky. It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. While +he was observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a disquieting +nature, passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it struck him for +the first time that he was being unnecessarily brutal to her. He had +forgotten that she was a woman, and defenceless. + +“Won’t you stay?” she asked all of a sudden, quite openly and frankly. + +“Yes, I think I’ll stay,” he replied slowly. “And another thing, +Oceaxe—if I’ve misjudged your character, pray forgive me. I’m a hasty, +passionate man.” + +“There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for +vicious hearts. And you didn’t misjudge my character, as far as you +went—only, every woman has more than one character. Don’t you know +that?” + +During the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and both +looked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly across the +neck that separated them from the mainland. + +“Tydomin,” muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She +immediately moved away from Maskull and stood up. + +The newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was no +longer quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who knows her +way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its quiescence +there just was a glimpse of something strange and dangerous. It was +curiously alluring, though not exactly beautiful. Her hair was +clustering and boyish, reaching only to the neck. It was of a strange +indigo colour. She was quaintly attired in a tunic and breeches, pieced +together from the square, blue-green plates of some reptile. Her small, +ivory-white breasts were exposed. Her sorb was black and sad—rather +contemplative. + +Without once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided +straight toward Crimtyphon’s corpse. When she arrived within a few feet +of it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded. + +Oceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, “It’s Crimtyphon’s +other wife, who lives under Disscourn. She’s a most dangerous woman. Be +careful what you say. If she asks you to do anything, refuse it +outright.” + +“The poor soul looks harmless enough.” + +“Yes, she does—but the poor soul is quite capable of swallowing up Krag +himself.... Now, play the man.” + +The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin’s notice, for she +now slowly turned her eyes toward them. + +“Who killed him?” she demanded. + +Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able to +catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and +curiously enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter. + +Oceaxe whispered, “Don’t say a word, leave it all to me.” Then she swung +her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, “I killed +him.” + +Tydomin’s words by this time were ringing in Maskull’s head like an +actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to ignore +them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the +consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting +her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, “It was +I that killed Crimtyphon.” + +Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. “Maskull says that so as to +shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him, +Tydomin.” + +“I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own strength, +for you brought this man along for the purpose.” + +Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. “It’s of little +consequence who killed him, for he’s better dead than alive, in my +opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.” + +Tydomin appeared not to hear him—she looked beyond him at Oceaxe +musingly. “When you murdered him, didn’t it occur to you that I would +come here, to find out?” + +“I never once thought of you,” replied Oceaxe, with an angry laugh. “Do +you really imagine that I carry your image with me wherever I go?” + +“If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?” + +“Lying hypocrite!” Oceaxe spat out. “You never were in love with +Crimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an excellent +opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon’s gone.... For we +both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had asked him. He +worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly.” + +Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. “Is it necessary for +you to listen to all this?” + +Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away +out of earshot. + +Tydomin approached Oceaxe. “Perhaps because my beauty fades and I’m no +longer young, I needed him all the more.” + +Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl. “Well, he’s dead, and that’s the end of it. +What are you going to do now, Tydomin?” + +The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. “There’s nothing +left to do, except mourn the dead. You won’t grudge me that last +office?” + +“Do you want to stay here?” demanded Oceaxe suspiciously. + +“Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.” + +“Then what is to become of us?” + +“I thought that you and your lover—what is his name?” + +“Maskull.” + +“I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend +Blodsombre at my home.” + +Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, “Will you come with me now to +Disscourn?” + +“If you wish,” returned Maskull. + +“Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon’s death. +I won’t keep him.” + +“Why don’t you question me, rather?” demanded Oceaxe, looking up +sharply. + +Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. “We know each other too well.” + +“Play no tricks!” said Oceaxe, and she turned to go. + +“Surely you must be dreaming,” said Tydomin. “That’s the way—unless you +want to walk over the cliffside.” + +The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction which +Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty +space. + +“Shaping! I must be mad,” cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she obediently +followed the other’s finger. + +She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces away. +Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing. +Tydomin remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her. +Without hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled +on—and when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took +one more step. + +Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body +disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded. + +Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself out +of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the +ground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished. + +He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to +sob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet. + +The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some +time before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words with +difficulty. “You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want to hear +why you did it.” + +“Hadn’t I cause?” she asked, standing with downcast eyes. + +“Was it pure fiendishness?” + +“It was for Crimtyphon’s sake.” + +“She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so.” + +“You are loyal to her, and I’m loyal to him.” + +“Loyal? You’ve made a terrible blunder. She wasn’t my mistress. I killed +Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely no part in it.” + +“Wasn’t she your lover?” asked Tydomin slowly. + +“You’ve made a terrible mistake,” repeated Maskull. “I killed him +because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of his death as you +are.” + +Tydomin’s face took on a hard look. “So you are guilty of two deaths.” + +There was a dreadful silence. + +“Why couldn’t you believe me?” asked Maskull, who was pale and sweating +painfully. + +“Who gave you the right to kill him?” demanded Tydomin sternly. + +He said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question. + +She sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. “Since you +murdered him, you must help me bury him.” + +“What’s to be done? This is a most fearful crime.” + +“You are a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? What +are we to you?” + +“Unfortunately you are right.” + +Another pause ensued. + +“It’s no use standing here,” said Tydomin. “Nothing can be done. You +must come with me.” + +“Come with you? Where to?” + +“To Disscourn. There’s a burning lake on the far side of it. He always +wished to be cast there after death. We can do that after Blodsombre—in +the meantime we must take him home.” + +“You’re a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried when that +poor girl must remain unburied?” + +“You know that’s out of the question,” replied Tydomin quietly. + +Maskull’s eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing. + +“We must do something,” she continued. “I shall go. You can’t wish to +stay here alone?” + +“No, I couldn’t stay here—and why should I want to? You want me to carry +the corpse?” + +“He can’t carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will ease your +mind to carry it.” + +“Ease my mind?” said Maskull, rather stupidly. + +“There’s only one relief for remorse, and that’s voluntary pain.” + +“And have you no remorse?” he asked, fixing her with a heavy eye. + +“These crimes are yours, Maskull,” she said in a low but incisive voice. + +They walked over to Crimtyphon’s body, and Maskull hoisted it on to his +shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not offer +to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. + +She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through +sunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the +heat was insufferable—streams of sweat coursed down his face, and the +corpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked in +front of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her white, +womanish calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His features grew +sullen. At the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed his burden to slip +off his shoulders on to the ground, where it lay sprawled every which +way. He called out to Tydomin. + +She quickly looked around. + +“Come here. It has just occurred to me”—he laughed—“why should I be +carrying this corpse—and why should I be following you at all? What +surprises me is, why this has never struck me before.” + +She at once came back to him. “I suppose you’re tired, Maskull. Let us +sit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?” + +“Oh, it’s not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you know of any +reason why I should be acting as your porter?” He laughed again, but +nevertheless sat down on the ground beside her. + +Tydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, so +as to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still glowing. +Maskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a moment or two +in silence. + +“Why don’t you speak?” he asked at last. + +“What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?” + +“I’m not speaking of that light.” + +“Doesn’t it suggest anything at all?” + +“Perhaps it doesn’t. What does it matter?” + +“Not sacrifice?” + +Maskull grew sullen again. “Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?” + +“Hasn’t it entered your head yet,” said Tydomin, looking straight in +front of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, “that this +adventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you have made some +sort of sacrifice?” + +He returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes’ time +Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost angrily, +threw Crimtyphon’s corpse over his shoulder again. + +“How far do we have to go?” he asked in a surly tone. + +“An hour’s walk.” + +“Lead on.” + +“Still, this isn’t the sacrifice I mean,” said Tydomin quietly, as she +went on in front. + +Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to pass +from peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they were +able to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make use of +rude bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented path. +Underneath were the black, impenetrable abysses—on the surface were the +glaring sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the chaotic tangle of strange +plants. There were countless reptiles and insects. The latter were +thicker built than those of Earth—consequently still more disgusting, +and some of them were of enormous size. One monstrous insect, as large +as a horse, stood right in the centre of their path without budging. It +was armour-plated, had jaws like scimitars, and underneath its body was +a forest of legs. Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it +crashing into the gulf. + +“What have I to offer, except my life?” Maskull suddenly broke out. “And +what good is that? It won’t bring that poor girl back into the world.” + +“Sacrifice is not for utility. It’s a penalty which we pay.” + +“I know that.” + +“The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has +happened.” + +She waited for Maskull to come even with her. + +“Perhaps you imagine I’m not man enough—you imagine that because I +allowed poor Oceaxe to die for me—” + +“She did die for you,” said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic voice. + +“That would be a second blunder of yours,” returned Maskull, just as +firmly. “I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I’m not in love with life.” + +“Your life is not required.” + +“Then I don’t understand what you want, or what you are speaking about.” + +“It’s not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That would be +compliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until you feel +there’s nothing else for you to do.” + +“It’s all very mysterious.” + +The conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful +crashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was +accompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they stood. +They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final +disappearance of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in +front of them. Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with all +its teeming animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic story. +The new chasm was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther edge the +Alppain glow burned blue just over the horizon. + +“Now we shall have to make a detour,” said Tydomin, halting. + +Maskull caught hold of her with his third hand. “Listen to me, while I +try to describe what I’m feeling. When I saw that landslip, everything I +have heard about the last destruction of the world came into my mind. It +seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, and that the world +were really falling to pieces. Then, where the land was, we now have +this empty, awful gulf—that’s to say, nothing—and it seems to me as if +our life will come to the same condition, where there was something +there will be nothing. But that terrible blue glare on the opposite side +is exactly like the eye of fate. It accuses us, and demands what we have +made of our life, which is no more. At the same time, it is grand and +joyful. The joy consists in this—that it is in our power to give freely +what will later on be taken from us by force.” + +Tydomin watched him attentively. “Then your feeling is that your life is +worthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who asks?” + +“No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living for is +to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us. +Understand me. It isn’t cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but +heroism.... It’s hard to explain.” + +“Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It’s a heavy +one, but that’s what you seem to wish.” + +“That is so. In my present mood it can’t be too heavy.” + +“Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that +Crimtyphon’s dead, I’m tired of being a woman.” + +“I fail to comprehend.” + +“Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish to +be a male. I see it isn’t worth while being a woman. I mean to dedicate +my own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine together, and +give them a common funeral in the burning lake. That’s the sacrifice I +offer you. As I said, it’s a hard one.” + +“So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is +difficult to understand.” + +“No, I don’t ask you to die. You will go on living.” + +“How is it possible without a body?” + +Tydomin gazed at him earnestly. “There are many such beings, even in +your world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. They are +in reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always longing to +act and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble-minded enough to +accept such a state, do you think?” + +“If it’s possible, I accept it,” replied Maskull quietly. “Not in spite +of its heaviness, but because of it. But how is it possible?” + +“Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of which +you have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I don’t hold +you to your word, for unless it’s a free sacrifice I will have nothing +to do with it.” + +“I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, you +have my consent, once for all.” + +“Then we’ll leave it like that for the present,” said Tydomin sadly. + +They proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed +rather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long +divergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly +formed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature, +insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against +a tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His +beardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in +other respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual +type. His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a sorb +nor a third arm—so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn. His +forehead, however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard +assortment of eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes. They +went in pairs, and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by a +peculiar shining—the rest remained dull, until their turn came. In +addition to the upper eyes he had the two lower ones, but they were +vacant and lifeless. This extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively +alive and dead, gave the young man an appearance of almost alarming +mental activity. He was wearing nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull +seemed somehow to recognise the face, though he had certainly never set +eyes on it before. + +Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to +rest in the shade. + +“Question him, Maskull,” she said, rather carelessly, jerking her head +toward the stranger. + +Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, “What’s +your name, and where do you come from?” + +The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes, then +with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to +Tydomin, who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in a +dry, manly, nervous voice. “I am Digrung. I have arrived here from +Matterplay.” His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of +whom he reminded him. It was of Joiwind. + +“Perhaps you’re going to Poolingdred, Digrung?” he inquired, interested. + +“As a matter of fact I am—if I can find my way out of this accursed +country.” + +“Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?” + +“She’s my sister. I’m on my way to see her now. Why, do you know her?” + +“I met her yesterday.” + +“What is your name, then?” + +“Maskull.” + +“I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four +years. Is she well, and happy?” + +“Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?” + +“Her husband—yes. But where do you come from? I’ve seen nothing like you +before.” + +“From another world. Where is Matterplay?” + +“It’s the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea.” + +“What is it like there—how do you amuse yourselves? The same old murders +and sudden deaths?” + +“Are you ill?” asked Digrung. “Who is this woman, why are you following +at her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What’s that +corpse—why are you dragging it around the country with you?” + +Tydomin smiled. “I’ve already heard it said about Matterplay, that if +one sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately springs +up. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, Digrung?” + +“I don’t attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, and I see +insanity. That wouldn’t matter, but I don’t like to see a man of +intelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes.” + +“I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge +character. However, I don’t mind. Your opinion’s nothing to me, Digrung. +You’d better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his own sake—but +your feminine friend is sure to be curious about your having been seen +carrying a dead man.” + +Maskull’s underlip shot out. “Tell your sister nothing, Digrung. Don’t +mention my name at all. I don’t want her to know about this meeting of +ours.” + +“Why not?” + +“I don’t wish it—isn’t that enough?” + +Digrung looked impassive. + +“Thoughts and words,” he said, “which don’t correspond with the real +events of the world are considered most shameful in Matterplay.” + +“I’m not asking you to lie, only to keep silent.” + +“To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can’t accede to your +wish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it.” + +Maskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example. + +She touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. “The dead +man is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you’ll understand why +he wishes you to hold your tongue.” + +“I guessed there was some foul play,” said Digrung. “It doesn’t matter—I +can’t falsify facts. Joiwind must know.” + +“You refuse to consider her feelings?” said Maskull, turning pale. + +“Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on realities, +aren’t worth considering. But Joiwind’s are not of that kind.” + +“If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without seeing +her; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting when +she hears your news.” + +“What are these strange relations between you?” demanded Digrung, eying +him with suddenly aroused suspicion. + +Maskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. “Good God! You don’t +doubt your own sister. That pure angel!” + +Tydomin caught hold of him delicately. “I don’t know Joiwind, but, +whoever she is and whatever she’s like, I know this—she’s more fortunate +in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really value her +happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or other.” + +“I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey.” + +“If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough.” + +Maskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. “I seem to be leaving a +wake of corpses behind me on this journey.” + +“Why a corpse? There’s no need to kill him.” + +“Thanks for that!” said Digrung dryly. “All the same, some crime is +about to burst. I feel it.” + +“What must I do, then?” asked Maskull. + +“It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very +interested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate +long. Don’t you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set their +feeble, obstinate wills against yours?” + +“That is a worse crime,” said Maskull. + +“Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales.” + +Digrung laughed, but changed colour. “I was right then. The monster has +sprung into the light of day.” + +Maskull laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have the choice, and we are +not joking. Do as I ask.” + +“You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I +can’t talk to you. As for you, woman—sin must be like a pleasant bath to +you....” + +“There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a +passer-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you.” + +“Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are +legitimate and right.” + +“Do as you please,” said Tydomin. “If you come to grief, your thoughts +will hardly have corresponded with the real events of the world, which +is what you boast about. It is no affair of mine.” + +“I shall go on, and not back!” exclaimed Digrung, with angry emphasis. + +Tydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. “Bear witness that I have +tried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick decision +in your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, Digrung’s +happiness or Joiwind’s. Digrung won’t allow you to preserve them both.” + +“It won’t take me long to decide, Digrung, I gave you a last chance to +change your mind.” + +“As long as it’s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister against +her criminal friends.” + +Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. Instructed +in his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young +man tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet +delight immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he +comprehended the triumphant joys of “absorbing.” It satisfied the hunger +of the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung +proved feeble—he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly +and evenly into Maskull’s. The latter became strong and gorged. The +victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in +his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his +second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... + +Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected +her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to +pick up Crimtyphon’s corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung’s +dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask. + +“Why hasn’t he altered?” he muttered to himself. + +Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot. “He +isn’t dead—that’s why. The expression you mean is waiting for your +death.” + +“Then is that my real character?” + +She laughed softly. “You came here to carve a strange world, and now it +appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there’s no doubt about it, Maskull. +You needn’t stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like the rest of +us. You are not a king, or a god.” + +“Since when have I belonged to him?” + +“What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of +Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.” + +Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and +strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed +and looking very grave. + +The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The +character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier +and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with +rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like a +mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the +intervening spaces were so wide—Tydomin, however, knew the way. The +intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape, +emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on +Maskull’s mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of +Disscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them. + +The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely +melted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood out +with terrific brilliance. They were directly beneath the bulk of the +mountain, which was not a mile away. It did not appear dangerous to +climb, but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay. + +It was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few +pale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, motionless +threads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. It was strewn +with detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks projected everywhere +like iron teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small black hole near the base, +which might be a cave. “That is where I live.” + +“You live here alone?” + +“Yes.” + +“It’s an odd choice for a woman—and you are not unbeautiful, either.” + +“A woman’s life is over at twenty-five,” she replied, sighing. “And I am +far older than that. Ten years ago it would have been I who lived +yonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn’t have happened.” + +***** + +A quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. It +was ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black. + +“Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun,” directed Tydomin. +He did so. + +She cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. “Does your resolution +still hold, Maskull?” + +“Why shouldn’t it hold? My brains are not feathers.” + +“Follow me, then.” + +They both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening crash, +like heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull’s weakened heart +thumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, and dust, swept +past the cave entrance from above. If their going in had been delayed by +a single minute, they would have been killed. + +Tydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started +walking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold as +ice. At the first bend the light from the outer world disappeared, +leaving them in absolute blackness. Maskull kept stumbling over the +uneven ground, but she kept tight hold of him, and hurried him along. + +The tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the +atmosphere changed—or such was his impression. He was somehow led to +imagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin stopped, +and then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping hand +encountered stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered that it was +a sort of stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen inches from +the ground. She told him to lie down. + +“Has the time come?” asked Maskull. + +“Yes.” + +He lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to +happen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any gradation, +he lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer able to feel his +limbs or internal organs. His mind remained active and alert. Nothing +particular appeared to be taking place. + +Then the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He could +see nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He fancied that he +heard music, but while he was listening for it, it stopped. The light +grew stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the confused sound of +distant voices. + +Suddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone +scream faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything +clearly. + +He was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, lighted +by electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, but by a +man dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face he was +certainly familiar, but under what circumstances he could not recall. +Other people stood in the background—they too were vaguely known to him. +He sat up and began to smile, without any especial reason; and then +stood upright. + +Everybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion—he wondered +why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in particular he +knew—the man at the farther end of the room, who paced restlessly +backward and forward, his face transfigured by stern, holy grandeur; and +that other big, bearded man—who was himself. Yes—he was looking at his +own double. But it was just as if a crime-riddled man of middle age were +suddenly confronted with his own photograph as an earnest, idealistic +youth. + +His other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not comprehend +the sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a short, brutish- +looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in an extraordinary +manner to everyone around him; and after that came straight up to +him—Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were incomprehensible. A +terrible expression came over the newcomer’s face, and he grasped his +neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull felt his bones bending and +breaking, excruciating pains passed through all the nerves of his body, +and he experienced a sense of impending death. He cried out, and sank +helplessly on the floor, in a heap. The chamber and the company +vanished—the light went out. + +Once more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this +time lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his +hand. He was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting for +the despairing anguish that filled his mind. + +Tydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. “Why are you back so +soon? I’ve not had time yet. You must return.” + +He caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a low +scream, as though in pain. “What does this mean—what are you doing, +Maskull?” + +“Krag—” began Maskull, but the effort to produce his words choked him, +so that he was obliged to stop. + +“Krag—what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my arm.” + +He gripped her arm tighter. + +“Yes, I’ve seen Krag. I’m awake.” + +“Oh! You are awake, awake.” + +“And you must die,” said Maskull, in an awful voice. + +“But why? What has happened?...” + +“You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no other +reason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!” + +Tydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to +regain her self-possession. + +“You won’t offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?” + +“No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured +that you must die—you must expiate your fearful crimes.” + +“You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have +escaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come +outside. I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also been +courteous to you. I make no other supplication.” + + + +Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN + +BY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre was +at its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward—a long +succession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them the +bright, stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand feet or +more. Maskull’s eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; he was still +holding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to speak, or to get +away. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed. + +After gazing at the country for a long time in silence, he turned toward +her. “Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?” + +“It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?” + +“It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow calmer, +and that’s what I want. I wish you to understand that what is going to +happen is not a murder, but an execution.” + +“It will taste the same,” said Tydomin. + +“When I have gone out of this country, I don’t wish to feel that I have +left a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be fair to +others. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy death for +you.” + +She shrugged her shoulders. “We must wait till Blodsombre is over.” + +“Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we will +both be cool by evening. We must start at once.” + +“Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry +Crimtyphon?” + +Maskull looked at her strangely. + +“I grudge no man his funeral.” + +She painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they stepped +out into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on the head. +Maskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no compassion +entered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman had done him. + +The way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its base. +It was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by cracks and +water gullies; they could see the water, but could not get at it. There +was no shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in +their blood seemed to dry up. + +Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil’s delight at Tydomin’s. +“Sing me a song!” he called out presently. “A characteristic one.” + +She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without +any sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird. +The song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to ascertain +whether he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of the grotesque +melody began to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the words were pure +nonsense—or else their significance was too deep for him. + +“Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that stuff, +woman?” + +Tydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with ghastly +jerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with her two left +arms. “It’s a pity we could not have met as friends, Maskull. I could +have shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps you will never see. +The wild, mad side. But now it’s too late, and it doesn’t matter.” + +They turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the +western base. + +“Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?” asked Maskull. + +“It is easiest to go to Sant.” + +“Will we see it from anywhere?” + +“Yes, though it is a long way off.” + +“Have you been there?” + +“I am a woman, and interdicted.” + +“True. I have heard something of the sort.” + +“But don’t ask me any more questions,” said Tydomin, who was becoming +faint. + +Maskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made a +cup of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay down +her burden. The gnawl water acted like magic—it seemed to replenish all +the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty sponge pores, +sucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self-possession. + +About three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second +corner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn. + +A hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the +mountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with a +sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere +immediately over a furnace. + +“The lake is underneath,” said Tydomin. + +Maskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country sloped +away in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a narrow path +channelled its way up through the rocks toward the towering summit of +the pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped +plateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was +Sant—and there and then he made up his mind that that should be his +destination that day. + +Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down +Crimtyphon’s body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined her; +arrived at the brink, he immediately flung himself at full length on his +chest, to see what could be seen of the lake of fire. A gust of hot, +asphyxiating air smote his face and set him coughing, but he did not get +up until he had stared his fill at the huge sea of green, molten lava, +tossing and swirling at no great distance below, like a living will. + +A faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he did +so his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his soul. +All the world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, and without +meaning.... + +He climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead +husband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and fondling +his violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the +withered lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all +three arms, she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and, +after an instant’s hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It +disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That +was Crimtyphon’s funeral. + +“Now I am ready, Maskull.” + +He did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing, +erect and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face was +wan, and there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew that it +was a phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at +Poolingdred. + +“Turn around, Tydomin,” he said oddly, “and tell me what you see behind +you.” + +“I don’t see anything,” she answered, looking around. + +“But I see Joiwind.” + +Just as he was speaking, the apparition vanished. + +“Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it.” + +The woman fingered her chin thoughtfully. + +“I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of my +own sex—but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?” + +“I really saw Krag.” + +“Yes, some miracle must have taken place.” She suddenly shivered. “Come, +let us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come here again.” + +“Yes,” said Maskull, “it stinks of death and dying. But where are we to +go—what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get away from this hellish +land.” + +Tydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an +abrupt, bitter little laugh. “We make our journey together in singular +stages. Rather than be alone, I’ll come with you—but you know that if I +set foot in Sant they will kill me.” + +“At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it +possible?” + +“If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you not +take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it won’t +hold—your luck.” + +“Let us start,” said Maskull. “The luck I’ve had so far is nothing to +brag about.” + +Blodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but the +heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence at +conversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The land +fell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward Sant there +was a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau continued to +dominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour they seemed none +the nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant. + +By and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted +Maskull’s notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still on, +imbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches sprang +out, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to twigs and +leaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been artificially +fastened on, at equal distances from each other. + +As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity +and self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was so momentary +that he could be sure of nothing. + +“What may that be, Tydomin?” + +“It is Hator’s Trifork.” + +“And what is its purpose?” + +“It’s a guide to Sant.” + +“But who or what is Hator?” + +“Hator was the founder of Sant—many thousands of years ago. He laid down +the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol. When I +was a little child my father told me the legends, but I’ve forgotten +most of them.” + +Maskull regarded it attentively. + +“Does it affect you in any way?” + +“And why should it do that?” she said, dropping her lip scornfully. “I +am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries.” + +“A sort of gladness came over me,” said Maskull, “but perhaps I am +mistaken.” + +They passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid +parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and +more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The +peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a +different order of things. + +Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the +air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and +began to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree. +Maskull, who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following +her example. A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and +body, his muscles regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat +with hard, slow, strong throbs. + +“Food and body seem to agree well in this world,” he remarked smiling. + +She glanced toward him. “Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, but +in your body.” + +“I brought my body with me.” + +“You brought your soul with you, but that’s altering fast, too.” + +In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but +possessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles of +a cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry +animal, somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the +most extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to +realise that the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from +branch to branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned +mouse is thrown by a cat from paw to paw. + +He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest. + +“That’s a gruesome reversal of rôles, Tydomin.” + +“One can see you’re disgusted,” she replied, stifling a yawn. “But that +is because you are a slave to words. If you called that plant an animal, +you would find its occupation perfectly natural and pleasing. And why +should you not call it an animal?” + +“I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I +shall go on listening to this sort of language.” + +They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became +overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed +into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A +chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker, the +sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at +himself, Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a +kind of green hoarfrost. + +The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them, +against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts +gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and +self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were +not waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning. + +“Then they are dangerous?” + +“So we think,” she answered, watching them closely. + +“Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion.” + +Among the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking +with a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and +Tydomin. There was something unusual in his appearance—his form looked +extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real. + +“If there’s danger, he ought to be warned,” said Maskull. + +“He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,” returned the +woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the arm, and +continued to watch. + +The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, +but turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the +proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full +height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He +seemed to be addressing the columns. + +While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a +series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He +dropped his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood +still, waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person +grew more and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be +composed of some substance heavier and denser than solid matter. + +Tydomin looked perplexed. + +“He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. This +is a day of days for me.” + +“He must be an individual of great importance,” murmured Maskull. + +They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was +clothed in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the +wind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming +moisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of +pale iron. There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and +a projecting chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were +two flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes +were expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the +stern eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter +felt as though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The +man was middle-aged. + +His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, +every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin’s +person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and +Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening +fire began running through his veins. + +He turned to the woman. “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him +company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.” + +“Let Tydomin come too.” + +The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as +intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English. + +“You who know my name, also know my sex,” said Tydomin quietly. “It is +death for me to enter Sant.” + +“That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law.” + +“Is it so—and will it be accepted?” + +“The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming +underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.” + +The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood +talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it. + +“What is your name?” asked Maskull, with a beating heart. + +“My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean of +space, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter +of the despised sex, shall be my second.” + +“The new law? But what is it?” + +“Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both of +you, to me!” + +Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her +sorb and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes. +When he removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into +twin membranes like Spadevil’s own. + +Tydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while, +apparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her eyes +and, snatching up Spadevil’s hand, she bent over and kissed it hurriedly +many times. + +“My past has been bad,” she said. “Numbers have received harm from me, +and none good. I have killed—and worse. But now I can throw all that +away, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, you and I have +been fools together!” + +“Don’t you repent your crimes?” asked Maskull. + +“Leave the past alone,” said Spadevil, “it cannot be reshaped. The +future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this very minute. +Why do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?” + +“What is the name of those organs, and what is their function?” + +“They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new world.” + +Maskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb. + +While the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law quietly +flowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream of clean +water which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive will. The law +was duty. + + + +Chapter 12. SPADEVIL + +Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their +own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his +eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him, +but his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external +things had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to +whether they served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or +otherwise, they had been pleasant or painful. Now these words “pleasure” +and “pain” simply had no meaning. + +The other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted with +his new mental outlook. He smiled at them. + +“You were quite right, Tydomin,” he said, in a bold, cheerful voice. “We +have been fools. So near the light all the time, and we never guessed +it. Always buried in the past or future—systematically ignoring the +present—and now it turns out that apart from the present we have no life +at all.” + +“Thank Spadevil for it,” she answered, more loudly than usual. + +Maskull looked at the man’s dark, concrete form. “Spadevil, now I mean +to follow you to the end. I can do nothing less.” + +The severe face showed no sign of gratification—not a muscle relaxed. + +“Watch that you don’t lose your gift,” he said gruffly. + +Tydomin spoke. “You promised that I should enter Sant with you.” + +“Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, but +the truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us journey +together, all three of us.” + +The words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the +fine, driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He walked +with a long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order to keep up +with him. The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the middle. The fog +was so dense that it was impossible to see a hundred yards ahead. The +ground was covered by the green snow. The wind blew in gusts from the +Sant highlands and was piercingly cold. + +“Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?” asked Maskull. + +“He that is not more than a man is nothing.” + +“Where have you now come from?” + +“From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I +have brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after many +months’ absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me in its +simple splendour, like an upturned diamond.” + +“I see its shining,” said Maskull. “But how much does it owe to ancient +Hator?” + +“Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is to +me. Hator also was a brooder—but now his followers do not brood. In Sant +all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate pleasure, and this +hatred is the greatest pleasure to them.” + +“But in what way have they fallen off from Hator’s doctrines?” + +“For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare, a +limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, mocking +enemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of life, in +order to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the soul, he +shielded himself behind pain. This also his followers do, but they do +not do it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of vanity and +pride.” + +“What is the Trifork?” + +“The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is +disentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is +power over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third +fork is the healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water.” + +“From what land did Hator come?” + +“It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many legends +told of him while there.” + +“We have a long way to go,” said Tydomin. “Relate some of these legends, +Spadevil.” + +The snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like a +phantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain. + +“In those days,” said Spadevil, “there existed in Ifdawn a mountain +island separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A handsome +girl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across which +men and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn Hator on to +this rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until it tumbled into +the depths below. ‘You and I, Hator, are now together, and there is no +means of separating. I wish to see how long the famous frost man can +withstand the breath, smiles and perfume of a girl.’ Hator said no word, +either then or all that day. He stood till sunset like a tree trunk, and +thought of other things. Then the girl grew passionate, and shook her +curls. She rose from where she was sitting she looked at him, and +touched his arm; but he did not see her. She looked at him, so that all +the soul was in her eyes; and then she fell down dead. Hator awoke from +his thoughts, and saw her lying, still warm, at his feet, a corpse. He +passed to the mainland; but how, it is not related.” + +Tydomin shuddered. “You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; but +your method is a nobler one.” + +“Don’t pity other women,” said Spadevil, “but love the right. Hator also +once conversed with Shaping.” + +“With the Maker of the World?” said Maskull thoughtfully. + +“With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his world, +and tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. But Hator, +answering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, iron words, +showed how this joy and beauty was but another name for the bestiality +of souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping smiled, and said, ‘How +comes it that your wisdom is greater than that of the Master of wisdom?’ +Hator said, ‘My wisdom does not come from you, nor from your world, but +from that other world, which you, Shaping, have vainly tried to +imitate.’ Shaping replied, ‘What, then, do you do in my world?’ Hator +said, ‘I am here falsely, and therefore I am subject to your false +pleasures. But I wrap myself in pain—not because it is good, but because +I wish to keep myself as far from you as possible. For pain is not +yours, neither does it belong to the other world, but it is the shadow +cast by your false pleasures.’ Shaping then said, ‘What is this faraway +other world of which you say “This is so—this is not so?” How happens it +that you alone of all my creatures have knowledge of it?’ But Hator spat +at his feet, and said, ‘You lie, Shaping. All have knowledge of it. You, +with your pretty toys, alone obscure it from our view.’ Shaping asked, +‘What, then, am I?’ Hator answered, ‘You are the dreamer of impossible +dreams.’ And then the story goes that Shaping departed, ill pleased with +what had been said.” + +“What other world did Hator refer to?” asked Maskull. + +“One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here.” + +“Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference,” said Maskull. +“The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is mean and +corrupt-natured.” + +“Guard you your pride!” returned Spadevil. “Do not make law for the +universe and for all time, but for yourself and for this small, false +life of yours.” + +“In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?” asked +Tydomin. + +“He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last hour. +When he saw that death could not be staved off longer he determined to +destroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; not from vanity, +but that they might see to what lengths the human soul can go in its +perpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. Standing erect, without +support, he died by withholding his breath.” + +A silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds +refused to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their thoughts +became frozen. + +When Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued power, +Maskull’s curiosity rose once more. “Your fellow countrymen, then, +Spadevil, are sick with self-love?” + +“The men of other countries,” said Spadevil, “are the slaves of pleasure +and desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are the slaves of +pleasure and desire, not knowing it.” + +“And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has +something noble in it.” + +“He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as +well as body can a man enter into true life.” + +“On what grounds do they reject women?” + +“Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. Love +for another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore injurious to +him.” + +“A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe,” said Maskull. “But +will they allow it?” + +“Spadevil knows, Maskull,” said Tydomin, “that be it today or be it +tomorrow, love can’t be kept out of a land, even by the disciples of +Hator.” + +“Beware of love—beware of emotion!” exclaimed Spadevil. “Love is but +pleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, but of serving +them.” + +“Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine.” + +“Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you are a +woman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul.” + +“But where there are no women, there are no children,” said Maskull. +“How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?” + +“Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the +yearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all parts, +in order to have the scars of their souls healed.” + +“In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what simple +formula do you offer?” + +“Iron obedience to duty,” answered Spadevil. + +“And if they ask ‘How far is this consistent with hatred of pleasure?’ +what will your pronouncement be?” + +“I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the question. +Hatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark fires of self. +Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one side, calm and +undisturbed.” + +“What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, in +order to avoid it?” + +“Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise.” + +Later in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on Spadevil’s +arm. + +“Fearful doubts are in my mind,” she said. “This expedition to Sant may +turn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, Spadevil, and myself lying +dead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not there.” + +“We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others will +raise it.” + +“Show me a sign that you are not as other men—so that I may know that +our blood will not be wasted.” + +Spadevil regarded her sternly. “I am not a magician. I don’t persuade +the senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, Tydomin? Then +go there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no farther. Is not this +simple? What signs are necessary?” + +“Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man could +have done that.” + +“Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man can +do another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open their +eyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my life. Will +you not still accompany me?” + +“Yes,” said Tydomin, “I will follow you to the end. It is all the more +essential, because I keep on displeasing you with my remarks, and that +means I have not yet learned my lesson properly.” + +“Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we are +thinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be planning +or shaping in our mind.” + +Tydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied. + +“Why was Maskull not in the picture?” she asked. + +“You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. There +is nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is only right +and wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does not matter. We +are not gods, constructing a world, but simple men and women, doing our +immediate duty. We may die in Sant—so you have seen it; but the truth +will go on living.” + +“Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?” asked Maskull. +“These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least likely of any to follow +a new light.” + +“Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no tree +at all can be found, nothing will grow.” + +“I understand you,” said Maskull. “Here perhaps we are going to +martyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to cattle.” + +Shortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland plain, +above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A dizzy, +artificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand steps of +varying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to the angles of +the precipices, led to the world overhead. In the place where they stood +they were sheltered from the cutting winds. Branchspell, radiantly +shining at last, but on the point of sinking, filled the cloudy sky with +violent, lurid colors, some of the combinations of which were new to +Maskull. The circle of the horizon was so gigantic, that had he been +suddenly carried back to Earth, he would by comparison have fancied +himself to be moving beneath the dome of some little, closed-in +cathedral. He realised that he was on a foreign planet. But he was not +stirred or uplifted by the knowledge; he was conscious only of moral +ideas. Looking backward, he saw the plain, which for several miles past +had been without vegetation, stretching back away to Disscourn. So +regular had been the ascent, and so great was the distance, that the +huge pyramid looked nothing more than a slight swelling on the face of +the earth. + +Spadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the +evening sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever +before. His features were set hard in grimness. + +He turned around to his companions. “What is the greatest wonder, in all +this wonderful scene?” he demanded. + +“Acquaint us,” said Maskull. + +“All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure to +pleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping’s world.” + +“There is another wonder,” said Tydomin, and she pointed her finger +toward the sky overhead. + +A small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five +hundred feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall of +cliff. It was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with downward- +pointing fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and one or two tiny +cloudlets beneath the fingers looked like falling drops of blood. + +“Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?” said Tydomin. “I +have been close to death twice today. The first time I was ready, but +now I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the man who has +given me my first happiness.” + +“Do not think of death, but of right persistence,” replied Spadevil. “I +am not here to tremble before Shaping’s portents; but to snatch men from +him.” + +He at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed +upward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her +eyes. Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull climbed +last. He was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but his soul was +at peace. As they steadily ascended the almost perpendicular stairs, the +sun got higher in the sky. Its light dyed their bodies a ruddy gold. + +They gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as far +as the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here and +there by large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand were +reddened by the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled by evil- +shaped clouds and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying across the +desert, drove the fine particles of sand painfully against their faces. + +“Where now do you take us?” asked Maskull. + +“He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to me, +that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find +Maulger.” + +“And where will you seek him, in this bare country?” + +Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly. + +“It is not so far,” he said. “It is his custom to be in that part where +Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be there, but I +cannot say.” + +Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles +beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness. + +“The woman is tired, Spadevil,” he said. + +She smiled. “It’s but another step into the land of death. I can manage +it. Give me your arm, Maskull.” + +He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way. + +“The sun is now sinking,” said Maskull. “Will we get there before dark?” + +“Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil in +your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall +arrive before dark.” + +The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the +western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid +colors. The wind grew colder. + +They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of +which were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was +hard, bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but he +felt braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other +trees or shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds +or insects. It was a desolate land. + +A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the +plateau. Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began. +But daylight had vanished there; Maskull’s eyes rested only on a vague +darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of +innumerable treetops. + +In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was +standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from +their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to +the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in +the mud close by his hand. + +They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became +aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out +of the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so. + +“This is not Maulger, but Catice,” said Spadevil. + +“Maulger is dead,” said Catice, speaking the same tongue as Spadevil, +but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull’s ear +was affected painfully. + +The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in +years. He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long and +heavy, but his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, lemon- +coloured, and anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of +longitudinal ruts, a quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which +seemed clogged with ancient dirt. The hair of his head was black and +sparse. Instead of the twin membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed +but one; and this was in the centre of his brow. + +Spadevil’s dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality +among dreams. + +“Has the trifork passed to you?” he demanded. + +“Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?” + +“I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith.” + +Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. “State it.” + +“Shall I speak with many words, or few words?” + +“If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. If you +wish to say what is, a few words will be enough.” + +Spadevil frowned. + +“To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill +pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is planning +right action, it has no time to think of pleasure.” + +“Is that the whole?” asked Catice. + +“The truth is simple, even for the simplest man.” + +“Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?” + +“I destroy nature, and set up law.” + +A long silence followed. + +“My probe is double,” said Spadevil. “Suffer me to double yours, and you +will see as I see.” + +“Come you here, you big man!” said Catice to Maskull. Maskull advanced a +step closer. + +“Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?” + +“As far as death,” exclaimed Maskull. + +Catice picked up a flint. “With this stone I strike out one of your two +probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will +recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall +obey your choice.” + +“Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men,” said +Spadevil. + +“The pain is nothing,” replied Maskull, “but I fear the result.” + +“Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,” said +Tydomin, stretching out her hand. + +He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to +thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. “What brings this kiss-lover +to Sant?” he said. “How does she presume to make the rules of life for +the sons of Hator?” + +She bit her lip, and stepped back. “Well then, Maskull, accept! I +certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can.” + +“If he bids me, I must do it,” said Maskull. “But who knows what will +come of it?” + +Spadevil spoke. “Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most +wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking +me a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed +will escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men +will know that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here +will live to see that.” + +Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice +raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, +brought it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. +Maskull cried out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the +function of the organ was destroyed. + +There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the +blood. + +“What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?” inquired Tydomin +anxiously. + +He stopped, and stared hard at her. “I now see straight,” he said +slowly. + +“What does that mean?” + +He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled. +“Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and +refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same.” + +Spadevil gazed at him sternly. “Do you renounce my teaching?” + +Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil’s image- +like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he knew +to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect. + +“It is false.” + +“Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?” demanded Tydomin. + +“I can’t argue as yet,” said Maskull. “At this moment the world with its +sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I feel a loathing for +everything in it, including myself. I know no more.” + +“Is there no duty?” asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone. + +“It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of other +people.” + +Tydomin pulled at Spadevil’s arm. “Maskull has betrayed you, as he has +so many others. Let us go.” + +He stood fast. “You have changed quickly, Maskull.” + +Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. “Why do men go on +living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?” + +“Pain is the native air of Surtur’s children. To what other air do you +wish to escape?” + +“Surtur’s children? Is not Surtur Shaping?” + +“It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping’s masterpiece.” + +“Answer, Maskull!” said Spadevil. “Do you repudiate right action?” + +“Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. I +wish you no harm.” + +The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence. + +Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. “The woman must +return home,” he said. + +“She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, must +die—backslider as you are!” + +Tydomin said quietly, “He has no power to enforce this. Are you going to +allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?” + +“It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from death. +Catice, I accept your judgment.” + +Tydomin smiled. “For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, so I +shall die with him.” + +Catice said to Maskull, “Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his +mistress, according to the laws of Hator.” + +“I can’t do that. I have travelled in friendship with them.” + +“You denied duty; and now you must do your duty,” said Spadevil, calmly +stroking his beard. “Whatever law you accept, you must obey, without +turning to right or left. Your law commands that we must be stoned; and +it will soon be dark.” + +“Have you not even this amount of manhood?” exclaimed Tydomin. + +Maskull moved heavily. “Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was forced +on me.” + +“Hator is looking on, and approving,” replied Catice. + +Maskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side of +the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments of +rock, the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in his +arms, he staggered back. + +He dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. When he +could speak again, he said, “I have a bad heart for the business. Is +there no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, and in the morning +go back to where you have come from. No one shall harm you.” + +Spadevil’s ironic smile was lost in the gloom. + +“Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after that +come back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose the +heavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin.” + +Maskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces. +Spadevil confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly. + +The huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a dark +shadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his features, and +breaking his neck. He died instantaneously. + +Tydomin looked away from the fallen man. + +“Be very quick, Maskull, and don’t let me keep him waiting.” + +He panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front of +Spadevil’s body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold. + +The blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull went +to her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his arms. There +she breathed out her last sighs. + +After that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands, +while he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic, +spiritual expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman came +like a flash; but he saw it. + +He stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him. + +“Is that the true likeness of Shaping?” + +“It is Shaping stripped of illusion.” + +“How comes this horrible world to exist?” + +Catice did not answer. + +“Who is Surtur?” + +“You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here.” + +“I am wading through too much blood,” said Maskull. “Nothing good can +come of it.” + +“Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy.” + +Maskull meditated. + +“Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you really +have accepted his faith?” + +“He was a great-souled man,” replied Catice. “I see that the pride of +our men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I too shall +leave Sant, to reflect on all this.” + +Maskull shuddered. “Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but a +crime!” + +“His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged down +his ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, stranger, but +go away at once out of the land.” + +“Tonight? Where shall I go?” + +“To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you on +the way.” + +He linked his arm in Maskull’s, and they walked away into the night. For +a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind was +searching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of the +clouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no familiar +constellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was visible, and if so +which one it was. + +They came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the cliffside. +It resembled the one by which he had come up; but this descended to the +Wombflash Forest. + +“That is your path,” said Catice, “and I shall not come any farther.” + +Maskull detained him. “Say just this, before we part company—why does +pleasure appear so shameful to us?” + +“Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home.” + +“And that is—” + +“Muspel,” answered Catice. + +Having made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back, +disappeared into the darkness. + +Maskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired, but +contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to discharge +matter. He lowered himself from step to step during what seemed an +interminable time. The rustling and sighing of the trees grew louder as +he approached the bottom; the air became still and warm. Inky blackness +was all around him. + +***** + +He at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he began +to trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After this had +happened a few times, he determined to go no farther that night. He +heaped together some dry leaves for a pillow, and immediately flung +himself down to sleep. Deep and heavy unconsciousness seized him almost +instantly. + + + +Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST + +He awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on his +side, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like night, +but that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to break and +objects begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or three amazing +shadowy shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of the twilight. He +did not realise that they were trees, until he turned over on his back +and followed their course upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared +not calculate the height, he saw their tops glittering in the sunlight, +against a tiny patch of blue sky. + +Clouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept interrupting +his view. In their silent passage they were like phantoms flitting among +the trees. The leaves underneath him were sodden, and heavy drops of +moisture splashed onto his head from time to time. + +He continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the +preceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something terrible +had happened, but what it was he could not for a long time recollect. +Then suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at +dusk on the Sant plateau—Spadevil’s crushed and bloody features and +Tydomin’s dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick. + +The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had +departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had +done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have been +labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had +enslaved him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They had +forced him to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had +imagined that he was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger. What +was this nightmare journey for—and would it continue, in the same +way?... + +The silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound except +the pumping of blood through his arteries. + +Putting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had +disappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third eye +was on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not guess its +use. He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless. + +Now he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to recall +that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice. + +He got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no toilet +to make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. The nearest +tree appeared to him to have a circumference of at least a hundred feet. +Other dim boles looked equally large. But what gave the scene its aspect +of immensity was the vast spaces separating tree from tree. It was like +some gigantic, supernatural hall in a life after death. The lowest +branches were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was no +underbrush; the soil was carpeted only by the dead, wet leaves. He +looked all around him, to find his direction, but the cliffs of Sant, +which he had descended, were invisible—every way was like every other +way, he had no idea which quarter to attack. He grew frightened, and +muttered to himself. Craning his neck back, he stared upward and tried +to discover the points of the compass from the direction of the +sunlight, but it was impossible. + +While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum +taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen +drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him. + +“Surtur!” he said, under his breath. The next moment he marvelled at +himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not been in his +thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him and the +drumming. + +He began to reflect—but in the meantime the sounds were travelling away. +Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum beats +had this peculiarity—though odd and mystical, there was nothing awe- +inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of some place +and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again they +caused all his other sense impressions to appear false. + +The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for five +minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull +followed them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge, +indistinct trees, in the attempt to come up with the origin of the +noise, but the same distance always seemed to separate them. The forest +from now onward descended. The gradient was mostly gentle—about one foot +in ten—but in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts again +it was practically level ground for quite long stretches. There were +great swampy marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash. It +was a matter of indifference to him how wet he became—if only he could +catch sight of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was +covered, and still he was no nearer to doing so. + +The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt +despondent, tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some +while, and was half inclined to discontinue the pursuit. + +Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against +a man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against the +trunk with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was +resting on a staff. Maskull stopped short and stared at him. + +He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a +head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes—three in +number—were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin was +hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils, +and fastened like a woman’s. His features were absolutely tranquil, but +a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface. + +Maskull addressed him. “Did the drumming come from you?” + +The man shook his head. + +“What is your name?” + +He replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered that +the name he gave was “Dreamsinter.” + +“What is that drumming?” + +“Surtur,” said Dreamsinter. + +“Is it advisable for me to follow it?” + +“Why?” + +“Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth.” + +Dreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face. +“Not you, but Nightspore.” + +This was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore’s name since +his arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could frame no +more questions. + +“Eat this,” said Dreamsinter. “Then we will chase the sound together.” +He picked something up from the ground and handed it to Maskull. He +could not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round nut, of the +size of a fist. + +“I can’t crack it.” + +Dreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. Maskull +then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely disagreeable. + +“What am I doing in Tormance, then?” he asked. + +“You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men—never +doubting if your soul could endure that burning.” + +Maskull could hardly decipher the strangled words. + +“Muspel.... That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember ever since I +awoke.” + +Dreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen +for something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet. + +“Is it the drumming?” + +“Hush! They come.” + +He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm was +heard—this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet. + +Maskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, three +men in single file separated from one another by only a yard or so. They +were travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked neither to left +nor right. They were naked. Their figures were shining against the black +background of the forest with a pale, supernatural light—green and +ghostly. When they were abreast of him, about twenty feet off, he +perceived who they were. The first man was himself—Maskull. The second +was Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their faces were grim and set. + +The source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to come +from some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves +in motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. At the same time +a low, faint music began. + +Its rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it did +not seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. It +resembled the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies the +dreamer everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering all his +experiences emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly orchestra, +and was strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull marched, and +listened; and as he listened, it grew louder and stormier. But the pulse +of the drum interpenetrated all the other sounds, like the quiet beating +of reality. + +His emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours were +passing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way ahead, on a +path parallel with his own and Dreamsinter’s. The music pulsated +violently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, murderous-looking +knife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the phantom Maskull’s +back, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the wound the second time. +Maskull threw up his arms, and fell down dead. Krag leaped into the +forest and vanished from sight. Nightspore marched on alone, stern and +unmoved. + +The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was roaring +with sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from the ground +under their feet. It was so grandly passionate that Maskull felt his +soul loosening from its bodily envelope. + +He continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to glow in +front of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as he had never +seen before, and such as he could not have imagined to be possible. +Nightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his chest bursting. +The light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of the music followed hard +one upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was +incapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over +in a faint that resembled death. + + + +Chapter 14. POLECRAB + +The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and +opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent in +the forest. The strange light had gone, the music had ceased, +Dreamsinter had vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin’s +blood, and fell into a deep muse. + +“According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. Perhaps +Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a specimen +of his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my question.... I +ought not to have asked about myself, but about Surtur. Then I would +have got a different answer. I might have learned something... I might +have seen him.” + +He remained quiet and apathetic for a bit. + +“But I couldn’t face that awful glare,” he proceeded. “It was bursting +my body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does really exist, and my +journey stands for something. But why am I here, and what can I do? Who +is Surtur? Where is he to be found?” + +Something wild came into his eyes. + +“What did Dreamsinter mean by his ‘Not you, but Nightspore’? Am I a +secondary character—is he regarded as important; and I as unimportant? +Where is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to wait for his time and +pleasure—can I originate nothing?” + +He continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs. + +“I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the +strangest things will happen in it. It’s no use making plans, for I +can’t see two steps ahead—everything is unknown. But one thing’s +evident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and I +must sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur shows +himself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means death.” + +Through the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came again. +The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the last +mutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, without +getting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not return. + +He smiled queerly, and said aloud, “Thanks, Surtur! I accept the omen.” + +When he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that had +been his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every movement of +his body. He made perforations in it all around, as close to his chest +as possible, with the fingernails of both hands; then he carefully +twisted it off. In that world of rapid growth and ungrowth he judged +that the stump would soon disappear. After that, he rose and peered into +the darkness. + +The forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking +twice about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it would +bring him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper became +gloomy and morose—he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid with hunger; +moreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be a short one. Be +that as it may, he determined to sit down no more until the whole dismal +forest was at his back. + +One after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, avoided, +and passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky was still +always visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of day. He +continued tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, slippery +miles—in some places through bogs. When, presently, the twilight seemed +to thin, he guessed that the open world was not far away. The forest +grew more palpable and grey, and now he saw its majesty better. The tree +trunks were like round towers, and so wide were the intervals that they +resembled natural amphitheatres. He could not make out the colour of the +bark. Everything he saw amazed him, but his admiration was of the +growling, grudging kind. The difference in light between the forest +behind him and the forest ahead became so marked that he could no longer +doubt that he was on the point of coming out. + +Real light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a shadow. +The trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. As the +minutes went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and vivid; it had +a tinge of blue. He also imagined that he heard the sound of surf. + +All that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich with +colour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their leaves, +high above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the ground +were of a colour he could not name. At the same time he discovered the +use of his third eye. By adding a third angle to his sight, every object +he looked at stood out in greater relief. The world looked less +flat—more realistic and significant. He had a stronger attraction toward +his surroundings; he seemed somehow to lose his egotism, and to become +free and thoughtful. + +Now through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a mile +separated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to discover what +lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf louder. It was a +peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from water, yet was +unlike the sea. Almost immediately he came within sight of an enormous +horizon of dancing waves, which he knew must be the Sinking Sea. He fell +back into a quick walk, continuing to stare hard. The wind that met him +was hot, fresh and sweet. + +When he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide +sands of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his back +to a great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in front of +him. The sands continued east and west in a straight line, broken only +here and there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant orange colour, +but there were patches of violet. The forest appeared to stand sentinel +over the shore for its entire length. Everything else was sea and sky—he +had never seen so much water. The semicircle of the skyline was so vast +that he might have imagined himself on a flat world, with a range of +vision determined only by the power of his eye. The sea was unlike any +sea on Earth. It resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body colour of +rich, magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and blue were +everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was extraordinary. +Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they attained a height of +perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would suddenly sink downward and +outward, creating in their descent a series of concentric rings for long +distances around them. Quickly moving currents, like rivers in the sea, +could be seen, racing away from land; they were of a darker green and +bore no pinnacles. Where the sea met the shore, the waves rushed over +the sands far in, with almost sinister rapidity—accompanied by a weird, +hissing, spitting sound, which was what Maskull had heard. The green +tongues rolled in without foam. + +About twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a long, +low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished in +outline. It was Swaylone’s Island. Maskull was less interested in that +than in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain had set, +but the whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by its +afterlight. Branchspell in the zenith was white and overpowering, the +day was cloudless and terrifically hot; but where the blue sun had sunk, +a sombre shadow seemed to overhang the world. Maskull had a feeling of +disintegration—just as if two chemically distinct forces were +simultaneously acting upon the cells of his body. Since the afterglow of +Alppain affected him like this, he thought it more than likely that he +would never be able to face that sun itself, and go on living. Still, +some modification might happen to him that would make it possible. + +The sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once walked +toward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow line of the +forest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on him so savagely +that for a few minutes he felt sick and his head swam. He trod quickly +across the sands. The orange-coloured parts were nearly hot enough to +roast food, he judged, but the violet parts were like fire itself. He +stepped on a patch in ignorance, and immediately jumped high into the +air with a startled yell. + +The sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he +determined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin +garment, washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the +sun to dry. Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed out +his beard and hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until the water +reached his breast, and took to swimming—avoiding the spouts as far as +possible He found it no pastime. The water was everywhere of unequal +density. In some places he could swim, in others he could barely save +himself from drowning, in others again he could not force himself +beneath the surface at all. There were no outward signs to show what the +water ahead held in store for him. The whole business was most +dangerous. + +He came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up and +down the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking around +him. He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical world, and +whichever way he turned, unknown and threatening forces were glaring at +him. The gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the awful, body- +changing Alppain, the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, the dark and +eerie Swaylone’s Island, the spirit-crushing forest out of which he had +just escaped—to all these mighty powers, surrounding him on every side, +what resources had he, a feeble, ignorant traveller from a tiny planet +on the other side of space, to oppose, to avoid being utterly +destroyed?... Then he smiled to himself. “I’ve already been here two +days, and still I survive. I have luck—and with that one can balance the +universe. But what is luck—a verbal expression, or a thing?” + +As he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to +him, and this time he was grave. “Surtur brought me here, and Surtur is +watching over me. That is my ‘luck.’... But what is Surtur in this +world?... How is he able to protect me against the blind and +ungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature?...” + +Hungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, for +he wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself which way +he should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along the shore, +either east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, cutting the +sands about a mile away. He walked toward it. + +The forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so squarely +turned to the sea that it looked as though it had been planed by tools. +Maskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but kept his head +constantly turned away from them, toward the sea—there it was more +cheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to be broad and flat- +banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. Its still, dark green +water curved around a bend out of sight, into the forest. The trees on +both banks overhung the water, so that it was completely in shadow. + +He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared. A +man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water. +He was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He +was short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms, +terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face +was plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and +walnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough +and leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there +was no trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling. +He possessed three eyes, of different colors—jade-green, blue, and +ulfire. + +In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an +elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded +together. + +Maskull addressed him. “Are you another of the wise men of the Wombflash +Forest?” + +The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so. +“I’m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.” + +“What name do you go by?” + +“Polecrab. What’s yours?” + +“Maskull. If you’re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I’m famishing.” + +Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. + +“There’s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. It’s easy +enough to get you some more.” + +Maskull found this a pleasant speech. + +“But how long will it take?” he asked. + +The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, +screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto +the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to +his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It +was about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had +six legs, ending in strong claws. + +“Arg, go fish!” said Polecrab hoarsely. + +The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam +gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath +the surface, where it remained a great while. + +“Simple fishing,” remarked Maskull. “But what’s the raft for?” + +“To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.” + +“That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.” + +Polecrab grunted again. “I’ve trained close on a hundred of them. The +bigheads learn best, but they’re slow swimmers. The narrowheads swim +like eels, but can’t be taught. Now I’ve started interbreeding them—he’s +one of them.” + +“Do you live here alone?” + +“No, I’ve got a wife and three boys. My wife’s sleeping somewhere, but +where the lads are, Shaping knows.” + +Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being. + +“The raft’s all crazy,” he remarked, staring at it. “If you go far out +in that, you’ve got more pluck than I have.” + +“I’ve been to Matterplay on it,” said Polecrab. + +The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time +clumsily, as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When +it landed at its master’s feet, they saw that each set of claws was +clutching a fish—six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded to +cut off the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked up; +these he threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss. + +Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, +walked toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When +they reached the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and +digging a shallow hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder +of the carcasses in it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his +own dinner. Maskull’s nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was +not yet to dine. + +Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, “These +are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me, +supposing you want company.” + +“How soon will that be?” + +“About twenty minutes,” replied the fisherman, over his shoulder. + +Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When +the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching +his fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the +sand which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to Polecrab. + +In the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched in +silence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back again. +With every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He finished +before Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no value. When he +had done, he stood up. + +“Come and drink,” he said, in his husky voice. + +Maskull looked at him inquiringly. + +The man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up to +a certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had been +tapped and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth to the +aperture, sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its mother’s +breast. Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his eyes growing +brighter. + +When his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree somewhat +like coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a new sort of +intoxication, however, for neither his will not his emotions were +excited, but only his intellect—and that only in a certain way. His +thoughts and images were not freed and loosened, but on the contrary +kept labouring and swelling painfully, until they reached the full +beauty of an aperçu, which would then flame up in his consciousness, +burst, and vanish. After that, the whole process started over again. But +there was never a moment when he was not perfectly cool, and master of +his senses. When each had drunk twice, Polecrab replugged the hole, and +they returned to their bank. + +“Is it Blodsombre yet?” asked Maskull, sprawling on the ground, well +content. + +Polecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in the +water. “Just beginning,” was his hoarse response. + +“Then I must stay here till it’s over.... Shall we talk?” + +“We can,” said the other, without enthusiasm. + +Maskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were +exactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a wise +light. + +“Have you travelled much, Polecrab?” + +“Not what you would call travelling.” + +“You tell me you’ve been to Matterplay—what kind of country is that?” + +“I don’t know. I went there to pick up flints.” + +“What countries lie beyond it?” + +“Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it’s a land of mystics... +I don’t know.” + +“Mystics?” + +“So I’m told.... Still farther north there’s Lichstorm.” + +“Now we’re going far afield.” + +“There are mountains there—and altogether it must be a very dangerous +place, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take care of +yourself.” + +“This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I’m going there?” + +“As you’ve come from the south, I suppose you’ll go north.” + +“Well, that’s right enough,” said Maskull, staring hard at him. “But how +do you know I’ve come from the south?” + +“Well, then, perhaps you haven’t—but there’s a look of Ifdawn about +you.” + +“What kind of look?” + +“A tragical look,” said Polecrab. He never even glanced at Maskull, but +was gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes. + +“What lies beyond Lichstorm?” asked Maskull, after a minute or two. + +“Barey, where you have two suns instead of one—but beyond that fact I +know nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean.” + +“And what’s on the other side of the ocean?” + +“That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has ever +crossed it and come back.” + +Maskull was silent for a little while. + +“How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the only +one travelling from curiosity.” + +“What do you mean by ‘your people’?” + +“True—you don’t know that I don’t belong to your planet at all. I’ve +come from another world, Polecrab.” + +“What to find?” + +“I came here with Krag and Nightspore—to follow Surtur. I must have +fainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the others +had vanished. Since then I’ve been travelling at random.” + +Polecrab scratched his nose. “You haven’t found Surtur yet?” + +“I’ve heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this morning I came +quite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, I saw a +vision—a being in man’s shape, who called himself Surtur.” + +“Well, maybe it was Surtur.” + +“No, that’s impossible,” replied Maskull reflectively. “It was +Crystalman. And it isn’t a question of my suspecting it—I know it.” + +“How?” + +“Because this is Crystalman’s world, and Surtur’s world is something +quite different.” + +“That’s queer, then,” said Polecrab. + +“Since I’ve come out of that forest,” proceeded Maskull, talking half to +himself, “a change has come over me, and I see things differently. +Everything here looks much more solid and real in my eyes than in other +places so much so that I can’t entertain the least doubt of its +existence. It not only looks real, it is real—and on that I would stake +my life.... But at the same time that it’s real, it is false.” + +“Like a dream?” + +“No—not at all like a dream, and that’s just what I want to explain. +This world of yours—and perhaps of mine too, for that matter—doesn’t +give me the slightest impression of a dream, or an illusion, or anything +of that sort. I know it’s really here at this moment, and it’s exactly +as we’re seeing it, you and I. Yet it’s false. It’s false in this sense, +Polecrab. Side by side with it another world exists, and that other +world is the true one, and this one is all false and deceitful, to the +very core. And so it occurs to me that reality and falseness are two +words for the same thing.” + +“Perhaps there is such another world,” said Polecrab huskily. “But did +that vision also seem real and false to you?” + +“Very real, but not false then, for then I didn’t understand all this. +But just because it was real, it couldn’t have been Surtur, who has no +connection with reality.” + +“Didn’t those drum taps sound real to you?” + +“I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. Still, +they were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. If I +didn’t hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his.” + +Polecrab growled a little. “If Surtur chooses to speak to you in that +fashion, it appears he’s trying to say something.” + +“What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what’s your opinion—is he calling +me to the life after death?” + +The old man stirred uneasily. “I’m a fisherman,” he said, after a minute +or two. “I live by killing, and so does everybody. This life seems to me +all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is wrong, and Surtur’s world is not +life at all, but something else.” + +“Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?” + +“Ask the dead,” said Polecrab, “and not a living man.” + +Maskull continued. “In the forest I heard music and saw a light, which +could not have belonged to this world. They were too strong for my +senses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a vision as +well, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked on toward +the light, alone.” + +Polecrab uttered his grunt. “You have enough to think over.” + +A short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull. + +“So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it may +come to my putting an end to myself.” The fisherman remained quiet and +immobile. + +Maskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared at +him. “What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, while in +the body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I have done?” + +“I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can’t say. Perhaps there are many +others like you who would gladly know.” + +“Where? I should like to meet them.” + +“Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of +another stuff?” + +“I can’t be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out toward +Muspel, in most cases without being aware of it.” + +“In the wrong direction,” said Polecrab. + +Maskull gave him a strange look. “How so?” + +“I don’t speak from my own wisdom,” said Polecrab, “for I have none; but +I have just now recalled what Broodviol once told me, when I was a young +man, and he was an old one. He said that Crystalman tries to turn all +things into one, and that whichever way his shapes march, in order to +escape from him, they find themselves again face to face with +Crystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this marching of +shapes (which we call ‘forking’) springs from the unconscious desire to +find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction to the right one. For +Surtur’s world does not lie on this side of the one, which was the +beginning of life, but on the other side; and to get to it we must +repass through the one. But this can only be by renouncing our self- +life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of Crystalman’s world. And +when this has been done, it is only the first stage of the journey; +though many good men imagine it to be the whole journey.... As far as I +can remember, that is what Broodviol said, but perhaps, as I was then a +young and ignorant man, I may have left out words which would explain +his meaning better.” + +Maskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained thoughtful +at the end. + +“It’s plain enough,” he said. “But what did he mean by our reuniting +ourselves to Crystalman’s world? If it is false, are we to make +ourselves false as well?” + +“I didn’t ask him that question, and you are as well qualified to answer +it as I am.” + +“He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a false, +private world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and distorted +perceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly lose nothing in +truth and reality.” + +Polecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and +stretched his limbs. + +“I have told you all I know,” he said in a surly voice. “Now let me go +to sleep.” + +Maskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man let +himself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest. + +While he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall +sounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest. +Maskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at once +guessed that it was Polecrab’s wife. He sat up, but the fisherman did +not stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, looking down from +what appeared a great height. + +Her dress was similar to her husband’s, but covered her limbs more. She +was young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was lightly +tanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. Refinement +was stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of expression for +a woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great eyes kept flashing +and glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow hair, coiled up and +fastened, but so carelessly that some of the strands were flowing down +her back. + +When she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and +shades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far away +from it. + +“Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation,” she said, +addressing Maskull. “I was resting behind the tree, and heard it all.” + +He got up slowly. “Are you Polecrab’s wife?” + +“She is my wife,” said Polecrab, “and her name is Gleameil. Sit down +again, stranger—and you too, wife, since you are here.” + +They both obeyed. “I heard everything,” repeated Gleameil. “But what I +did not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after you have left +us.” + +“I know no more than you do.” + +“Listen, then. There’s only one place for you to go to, and that is +Swaylone’s Island. I will ferry you across myself before sunset.” + +“What shall I find there?” + +“He may go, wife,” put in the old man hoarsely, “but I won’t allow you +to go. I will take him over myself.” + +“No, you have always put me off,” said Gleameil, with some emotion. +“This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and I sit on the +shore here, listening to Earthrid’s music travelling faintly across the +sea, I am tortured—I can’t endure it.... I have long since made up my +mind to go to the island, and see what this music is. If it’s bad, if it +kills me—well.” + +“What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?” demanded +Maskull. + +“I think the music will answer all your questions better than Polecrab +has done—and possibly in a way that will surprise you.” + +“What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the sea?” + +“A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the man +that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up the +most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.” + +“That may be so,” growled Polecrab. “But I have been to the island by +daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and ancient. Those +are Earthrid’s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.” + +“But will that music play tonight?” asked Maskull. + +“Yes,” replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. “When Teargeld rises, +which is our moon.” + +“If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death is +due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as +for taking you with me, Gleameil—women die too easily in Tormance. I +have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another +woman.” + +Gleameil laughed, but said nothing. + +“Now go to sleep,” said Polecrab. “When the time comes, I will take you +across myself.” + +He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example; +but Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her. + +“Who was that other woman, Maskull?” she asked presently. + +He did not answer, but pretended to sleep. + + + +Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND + +When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late +afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another +meal of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him. + +“Is it decided who is to go with me?” he asked, before sitting down. + +“I go,” said Gleameil. + +“Do you agree, Polecrab?” + +The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others +to take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering. + +“Something strong is attracting her, and I can’t hold her back. I don’t +think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are now nearly old +enough to fend for themselves.” + +“Don’t take dejected views,” replied Gleameil sternly. She was not +eating. “I shall come back, and make amends to you. It’s only for a +night.” + +Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. “Let me go alone. I +would be sorry if anything happened.” + +Gleameil shook her head. + +“Don’t regard this as a woman’s caprice,” she said. “Even if you hadn’t +passed this way, I would have heard that music soon. I have a hunger for +it.” + +“Haven’t you any such feeling, Polecrab?” + +“No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are +attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she +is set on it. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps Earthrid’s music will answer +your questions, and hers too.” + +“What are your questions, Gleameil?” + +The woman shed a strange smile. “You may be sure that a question which +requires music for an answer can’t be put into words.” + +“If you are not back by the morning,” remarked her husband, “I will know +you are dead.” + +The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his +mouth, and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket. + +“Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?” She considered a +moment. + +“Yes—yes, I must see them.” + +He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed +through the air. + +A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the +boys were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity +at the first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was +carrying the youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance +behind. The child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in +front of Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. +Polecrab looked on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with +proudly raised head and a baffling expression. + +Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, +respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest +was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked, +and his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. His facial muscles +indicated a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires. +The second showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was +large and heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes +were almost too sombre and penetrating for a child’s. + +“That one,” said Polecrab, pinching the boy’s ear, “may perhaps grow up +to be a second Broodviol.” + +“Who was that?” demanded the boy, bending his head forward to hear the +answer. + +“A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up his +mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.” + +“If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about him.” + +“That would not have mattered,” replied the father. + +The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face +was mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity +about it, that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would +wrinkle up and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a +tawny gold, seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of +his age. + +“He puzzles me,” said Polecrab. “He has a soul like sap, and he’s +interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most remarkable of the +bunch.” + +Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. +He took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never +changed countenance. + +“What do you make of him?” asked the fisherman. + +“It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. Let me +drink again, and then I shall have it.” + +“Go and drink, then.” + +Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. “In ages to come,” +he said, speaking deliberately, “he will be a grand and awful tradition. +A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well.” + +The eldest boy looked scornful. “I want to be none of those things. I +would like to be like that big fellow.” And he pointed his finger at +Maskull. + +He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. “Thanks for +the compliments old warrior!” he said. + +“He’s great and brawny,” continued the boy, “and can hold his own with +other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you did that child?” + +Maskull complied. + +“That is being a man!” exclaimed the boy. “Enough!” said Polecrab +impatiently. “I called you lads here to say goodbye to your mother. She +is going away with this man. I think she may not return, but we don’t +know.” + +The second boy’s face became suddenly inflamed. “Is she going of her own +choice?” he inquired. + +“Yes,” replied the father. + +“Then she is bad.” He brought the words out with such force and emphasis +that they sounded like the crack of a whip. + +The old man cuffed him twice. “Is it your mother you are speaking of?” + +The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said +nothing. + +The youngest child spoke, for the first time. “My mother will not come +back, but she will die dancing.” + +Polecrab and his wife looked at one another. + +“Where are you going to, Mother?” asked the eldest lad. + +Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. “To the Island.” + +“Well then, if you don’t come back by tomorrow morning, I will go and +look for you.” + +Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. “This seems to me to be a +man’s journey,” he said. “I think it would be better for you not to +come, Gleameil.” + +“I am not to be dissuaded,” she replied. + +He stroked his beard in perplexity. “Is it time to start?” + +“It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that.” + +Maskull sighed. “I’ll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait there for +you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, Gleameil.” + +He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. “Adieu, fisherman!” + +“You have repaid me well for my answers,” said the old man gruffly. “But +it’s not your fault, and in Shaping’s world the worst things happen.” + +The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. “Farewell, big +man!” he said. “But guard my mother well, as well as you are well able +to, or I shall follow you, and kill you.” + +Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The +glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes +again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far +as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled +on to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of +Alppain had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating +wind, listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea +with its pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone’s Island. + +“What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all she +loves the most?” he meditated. “It sounds unholy. Will it tell me what I +want to know? Can it?” + +In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning +his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. +Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed +by Maskull, without looking at him, or making any salutation, and +proceeded out to sea. + +While he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the boys +came in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest-born was +holding her hand, and talking; and the other two were behind. She was +calm and smiling, but seemed abstracted. + +“What is your husband doing with the raft?” asked Maskull. + +“He’s putting it in position and we shall wade out and join it,” she +answered, in her low-toned voice. + +“But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?” + +“Don’t you see that current running away from land? See, he is +approaching it. That will take us straight there.” + +“But how can you get back?” + +“There is a way; but we need not think of that today.” + +“Why shouldn’t I come too?” demanded the eldest boy. + +“Because the raft won’t carry three. Maskull is a heavy man.” + +“It doesn’t matter,” said the boy. “I know where there is wood for +another raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to work.” + +Polecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position he +desired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point made a +sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his wife and +Maskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and broke down a +little. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and tears glistened in +his eyes; but the younger children stared wide-eyed, and displayed no +emotion. + +Gleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water covered +first their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as high as their +waists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let himself down into the +water, and assisted his wife to climb over the side. When she was up, +she bent down and kissed him. No words were exchanged. Maskull scrambled +up on to the front part of the raft. The woman sat cross-legged in the +stern, and seized the pole. + +Polecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her pole +until they had got within its power. The raft immediately began to +travel swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion. + +The boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull turned +his back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was wading back to +the shore. + +For upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. No +sound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around them, +and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its way +smoothly through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway of +safety, the beautiful dangers surrounding them were an exhilarating +experience. The air was fresh and clean, and the heat from Branchspell, +now low in the west, was at last endurable. The riot of sea colors had +long since banished all sadness and anxiety from his heart. Yet he felt +such a grudge against the woman for selfishly forsaking those who should +have been dear to her that he could not bring himself to begin a +conversation. + +But when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught +sight of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon-pink +in the evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the silence by +inquiring what they were. + +“It is Lichstorm,” said Gleameil. + +Maskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her, his +eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he +continued to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles, and +now he could better estimate the enormous height of the trees. +Overtopping them, far away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not +quite sure, that he could distinguish Disscourn as well. + +“Now that we are alone in a strange place,” said Gleameil, averting her +head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the water, “tell +me what you thought of Polecrab.” + +Maskull paused before answering. “He seemed to me like a mountain +wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all. +But then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of +more mountain—and even then it is not the top.” + +“You read character well, and have great perception,” remarked Gleameil +quietly. “Now say what I am.” + +“In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that’s all I know +about you.” + +“What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?” + +“You heard.” + +“Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and +boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world +for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear +all false and vulgar.” + +“Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to satisfy +our self-nature at the expense of other people?” + +“No, it’s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other world +these words have no meaning.” + +There was a silence. + +“It’s useless to discuss such topics,” said Maskull. “The choice is now +out of our hands, and we must go where we are taken. What I would rather +speak about is what awaits us on the island.” + +“I am ignorant—except that we shall find Earthrid there.” + +“Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone’s Island?” + +“They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about him. +As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.” + +“If you please,” said Maskull. + +“In a far-back age,” began Gleameil, “when the seas were hot, and clouds +hung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with transformations, +Swaylone came to this island, on which men had never before set foot, +and began to play his music—the first music in Tormance. Nightly, when +the moon shone, people used to gather on this shore behind us, and +listen to the faint, sweet strains floating from over the sea. One +night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was passing this way in +company with Krag. They listened a while to the music, and Shaping said +‘Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This is my world and my music.’ +Krag stamped with his foot, and laughed. ‘You must do better than that, +if I am to admire it. Let us pass over, and see this bungler at work.’ +Shaping consented, and they passed over to the island. Swaylone was not +able to see their presence. Shaping stood behind him, and breathed +thoughts into his soul, so that his music became ten times lovelier, and +people listening on that shore went mad with sick delight. ‘Can any +strains be nobler?’ demanded Shaping. Krag grinned and said, ‘You are +naturally effeminate. Now let me try.’ Then he stood behind Swaylone, +and shot ugly discords fast into his head. His instrument was so +cracked, that never since has it played right. From that time forth +Swaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called to folk more +than the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island during his +lifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could endure them; +all died. After Swaylone’s death, another musician took up the tale; and +so the light has passed down from torch to torch, till now Earthrid +bears it.” + +“An interesting legend,” commented Maskull. “But who is Krag?” + +“They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it—a spirit +compounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not know how to +transform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the world, for he dogs +Shaping’s footsteps everywhere, and whatever the latter does, he undoes. +To love he joins death; to sex, shame; to intellect, madness; to virtue, +cruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody entrails. These are Krag’s +actions, so the lovers of the world call him ‘devil.’ They don’t +understand, Maskull, that without him the world would lose its beauty.” + +“Krag and beauty!” exclaimed he, with a cynical smile. + +“Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to discover. +That beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, children, and +happiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?” + +“Surely.” + +“That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see beauty +in its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from it.” + +“Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far +from my mind.” + +She did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes, to +hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more. +There was no more talk until they reached the island. + +The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores. +Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared to +be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all broad +sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness of +insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The +current bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a +sharp angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land. + +Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed +her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the +current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the +way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set. + +Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a +single glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed +her. The cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and +easy, while the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon. + +A little way off, on their left, something white was shining. + +“You need not go to it,” said the woman. “It can be nothing else than +one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look—there is another +one over there!” + +“This brings it home!” remarked Maskull, smiling. + +“There is nothing comical in having died for beauty,” said Gleameil, +bending her brows at him. + +And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones, +from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it +were a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell +into a sombre mood. + +It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set +eyes on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way +different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were +fast becoming invisible. + +“That is Matterplay,” said the woman, pointing her finger toward some +low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off than +Wombflash. + +“I wonder how Digrung passed over,” meditated Maskull. + +Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they saw +a small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The +sunset colors of the sky were reflected in its waters. + +“That must be Irontick,” remarked Gleameil. + +“What is that?” + +“I have heard that it’s the instrument Earthrid plays on.” + +“We are getting close,” responded he. “Let us go and investigate.” + +When they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the +farther side, in an attitude of sleep. + +“If that’s not the man himself, who can it be?” said Maskull. “Let’s get +across the water, if it will bear us; it will save time.” + +He now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope which +bounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with greater +dignity, keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if fascinated. +When Maskull reached the water’s edge, he tried it with one foot, to +discover if it would carry his weight. Something unusual in its +appearance led him to have doubts. It was a tranquil, dark, and +beautifully reflecting sheet of water; it resembled a mirror of liquid +metal. Finding that it would bear him, and that nothing happened, he +placed his second foot on its surface. Instantly he sustained a violent +shock throughout his body, as from a powerful electric current; and he +was hurled in a tumbled heap back on to the bank. + +He picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started +walking around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the +half circuit together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him +with his foot. He woke up, and blinked at them. + +His face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable +expression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and head. +On his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a perfectly +circular organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. He had an +unpleasant smell. He appeared to be of young middle age. + +“Wake up, man,” said Maskull sharply, “and tell us if you are Earthrid.” + +“What time is it?” counterquestioned the man. “Does it want long to +moonrise?” + +Without appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning away +from them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and to eat it +halfheartedly. + +“Now, how can you eat that filth?” demanded Maskull, in disgust. + +“Don’t be angry, Maskull,” said Gleameil, laying hold of his arm, and +flushing a little. “It is Earthrid—the man who is to help us.” + +“He has not said so.” + +“I am Earthrid,” said the other, in his weak and muffled voice, which, +however, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. “What do you want +here? Or rather, you had better get away as quickly as you can, for it +will be too late when Teargeld rises.” + +“You need not explain,” exclaimed Maskull. “We know your reputation, and +we have come to hear your music. But what’s that organ for on your +forehead?” + +Earthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again. + +“That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don’t stand +and argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the island +with corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else.” + +Darkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape. + +“You are rather bigmouthed,” said Maskull coolly. “But after we have +heard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself.” + +“You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?” + +A flame danced in Gleameil’s eyes. + +“Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument,” she said in her +intense way. “But it is in the soul of the Master.” + +“Yes,” said Earthrid, “but that is not all. I will tell you what it is. +In Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the mystery of the +Three in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, has three +directions. Length is the line which shuts off what is, from what is +not. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what manner one thing of +what-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the path which leads from +what-is, to our own body. In music it is not otherwise. Tone is +existence, without which nothing at all can be. Symmetry and Numbers are +the manner in which tones exist, one with another. Emotion is the +movement of our soul toward the wonderful world that is being created. +Now, men when they make music are accustomed to build beautiful tones, +because of the delight they cause. Therefore their music world is based +on pleasure; its symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet +and lovely.... But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its +symmetry is wild, and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and +terrible.” + +“If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come +here,” said Maskull. “Still, explain—why can’t harsh tones have simple +symmetry of form? And why must they necessarily cause more profound +emotions in us who listen?” + +“Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of their +clashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, which is +rough and earnest.” + +“You may call it music,” remarked Maskull thoughtfully, “but to me it +bears a closer resemblance to actual life.” + +“If Shaping’s plans had gone straight, life would have been like that +other sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that intention in +the world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life resembles my +music and mine is the true music.” + +“Shall we see living shapes?” + +“I don’t know what my mood will be,” returned Earthrid. “But when I have +finished, you shall adventure your tune, and produce whatever shapes you +please—unless, indeed, the tune is out of your own big body.” + +“The shocks you are preparing may kill us,” said Gleameil, in a low, +taut voice, “but we shall die, seeing beauty.” + +Earthrid looked at her with a dignified expression. + +“Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I put +into my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed a woman +to call it ‘beauty.’ But if this is beauty, what is ugliness?” + +“That I can tell you, Master,” replied Gleameil, smiling at him. +“Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues fresh from +the womb of nature.” + +Earthrid stared at her, without response. “Teargeld is rising,” he said +at last. “And now you shall see—though not for long.” + +As the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in the +dark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was wholly up. +It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. Its shadowy +parts stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it did not give +Maskull the impression of being a dead world. Branchspell shone on the +whole of it, but Alppain only on a part. The broad crescent that +reflected Branchspell’s rays alone was white and brilliant; but the part +that was illuminated by both suns shone with a greenish radiance that +had almost solar power, and yet was cold and cheerless. On gazing at +that combined light, he felt the same sense of disintegration that the +afterglow of Alppain had always caused in him; but now the feeling was +not physical, but merely aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to +him, but disturbing and mystical. + +Earthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright moonlight, +his face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its loose, weak, +disagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty grandeur. He clapped +his hands together meditatively two or three times, and walked up and +down. The others stood together, watching him. + +Then he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side, +placed his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same +time stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact with +the water. + +While Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he felt +a stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had been +pierced by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, and as he +did so he saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was now +subsiding again. The next moment he was knocked down by a violent blow +in the mouth, delivered by an invisible hand. He picked himself up; and +observed that a second spout had formed. No sooner was he on his legs, +than a hideous pain hammered away inside his brain, as if caused by a +malignant tumour. In his agony, he stumbled and fell again; this time on +the arm Krag had wounded. All his other mishaps were forgotten in this +one, which half stunned him. It lasted only a moment, and then sudden +relief came, and he found that Earthrid’s rough music had lost its power +over him. + +He saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming +thick and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But +Gleameil was not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a heap, +without moving. Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was dead. When +he reached her, he discovered that she was dead. In what state of mind +she had died, he did not know, for her face wore the vulgar Crystalman +grin. The whole tragedy had not lasted five minutes. + +He went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his playing. + +“You have been as good as your word, musician,” he said. “Gleameil is +dead.” + +Earthrid tried to collect his scattered senses. + +“I warned her,” he replied, sitting up. “Did I not beg her to go away? +But she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty she spoke +about. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the rhythm. Neither +have you.” + +Maskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing. + +“You should not have interrupted me,” went on Earthrid. “When I am +playing, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost the thread of +my ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over again.” + +“If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next.” + +The man glanced up quickly. + +“That can’t be.” + +“It must be,” said Maskull decisively. “I prefer playing to listening. +Another reason is that you will have every night, but I have only +tonight.” + +Earthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. “With +your recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick belongs to +me, and until you have learned how to play, you would only break the +instrument.” + +“Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try.” + +The musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. “Do you intend to +take it from me by violence?” + +“Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I shall +give you time to go away somewhere.” + +“How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don’t understand what +you are doing.” + +“Go, or stay!” responded Maskull. “I give you till the water gets smooth +again. After that, I begin playing.” + +Earthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to Maskull. + +“Do you swear it?” + +“How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you are +safe.” + +Earthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and then +moved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up he glanced +over his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was happening. In +another minute or so, he had disappeared over the crest, travelling in +the direction of the shore that faced Matterplay. + +Later, when the water was once more tranquil, Maskull sat down by its +edge, in imitation of Earthrid’s attitude. He knew neither how to set +about producing his music, nor what would come of it. But audacious +projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes—and, +above all, one shape, that of Surtur. + +Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in +his mind. + +He said, “What themes are in common music, shapes are in this music. The +composer does not find his theme by picking out single notes; but the +whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it must be with +shapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the undivided +ideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and then, +reflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the first +time made acquainted with them. So it must be.” + +The instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing +from him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of flowing +created a sensation of joyful mastery. With this was curiosity to learn +what they would prove to be. Spouts formed on the lake in increasing +numbers, but he experienced no pain. His thoughts, which he knew to be +music, did not issue from him in a steady, unbroken stream, but in +great, rough gushes, succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these +gushes came, the whole lake broke out in an eruption of spouts. + +He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his +intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will. He +could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to +force them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition. + +At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a +strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased so +imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the +Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not +give it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and +sacred awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The spouts +thickened like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high. +Teargeld looked faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast +no shadows. The wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm. +Shortly afterward it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He +saw no shapes, and redoubled his efforts. + +His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole +soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not +know their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills +began to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from +their bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the +landscape had altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon +disappeared entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying, +but Maskull played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would +take shape. The hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping +from the tops of the spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was +dry. + +The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that +it was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was +becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He +strained and strained.... + +Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell +through, and his instrument was broken. + +The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could +not see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in +total blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a dead silence. +His thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his foot no longer +touched water, but hung in space. + +He was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or +feel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in the +newly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its descent had +met fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many yards high, and +came down heavily. He lost consciousness.... + +When he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was +gleaming brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but it +was now a crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not penetrate. +The hills encircling it were torn, as if by heavy gunfire. A few +thunderclouds were floating in the air at no great height, from which +branched lightning descended to the earth incessantly, accompanied by +alarming and singular crashes. + +He got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was +uninjured, he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and +then started to walk painfully toward the northern shore. + +When he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped +gently down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through +traces of his rough work. The country was carved into scarps, grooves, +channels, and craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs overlooking +the beach, and found that these also were partly broken down by +landslips. He got down onto the sand and stood looking over the moonlit, +agitated sea, wondering how he could contrive to escape from this island +of failure. + +Then he saw Earthrid’s body, lying quite close to him. It was on its +back. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see them +anywhere. Earthrid’s teeth were buried in the flesh of his right +forearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning physical agony. +The skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was stained by darker +discolourations, which were wounds. The sand about him was dyed by the +pool of blood which had long since filtered through. + +Maskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the +sweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for daybreak. + + + +Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE + +At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow +straight toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day, +he saw a great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty +feet out of the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must have been +enormously deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, through the +heavy seas. Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few minutes. Then it +dawned on him that it might be a good thing to investigate its nature. +Without stopping to weigh the danger, he immediately swam out, caught +hold of the lowest branch, and swung himself up. + +He looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top, +terminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made his +way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were +covered with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at +the crown, he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there were +membranes like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting some +form of low intelligence. + +At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore, +and began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his hand out, +and, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the membranes. The tree +sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was steady again, +Maskull removed his hand; they at once drifted back to shore. He thought +a bit, and then started experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was +as he had guessed—these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon, +and whichever way the light came from, the tree would travel. + +A rather defiant smile crossed Maskull’s face as it struck him that it +might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as +Matterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into execution. +Tearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up all the +membranes except the ones that faced the north. The tree instantly left +the island, and definitely put out to sea. It travelled due north. It +was not moving at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay +was possibly forty miles distant. + +The great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the +breaking seas hissed through the lower branches—Maskull rested high and +dry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow rate of +progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward the north- +west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to juggle with +the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in piloting his tree +into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were fairly in its rapids, +he blinded the crown entirely, and thenceforward the current acted in +the double capacity of road and steed. + +Maskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the +remainder of the night. + +When his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld was +setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with the +colours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the light +over the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land—probably +Matterplay—lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, perhaps a mile +away. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but began to skirt the +coast without drawing any closer to it. As soon as Maskull realised the +fact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its channel and started drifting it +inshore. The eastern sky blazed up suddenly with violent dyes, and the +outer rim of Branchspell lifted itself above the sea. The moon had +already sunk. + +The shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was like +Swaylone’s Island—the same wide sands, small cliffs, and rounded, +insignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the early-morning +sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed and morose, +cared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, clambered +swiftly down through the branches and dropped into the sea. By the time +he had swam ashore, the white, stupendous sun was high above the +horizon. + +He walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable distance, +without having any special intention in his mind. He thought he would go +on until he came to some creek or valley, and then turn up it. The sun’s +rays were cheering, and began to relieve him of his oppressive night +weight. After strolling along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped +by a broad stream that flowed into the sea out of a kind of natural +gateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid +green, all filled with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did +it look that he flung himself face downward on the ground and took a +prolonged draught. When he got up again his eyes started to play +pranks—they became alternately blurred and clear.... It may have been +pure imagination, but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him. + +He followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and +then for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared, like +a jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare and +lifeless, but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely +fertile; he had never seen such fertility. It wound up among the hills, +and all that he was looking at was its broad lower end. The floor of the +valley was about half a mile wide; the stream that ran down its middle +was nearly a hundred feet across, but was exceedingly shallow—in most +places not more than a few inches deep. The sides of the valley were +about seventy feet high, but very sloping; they were clothed from top to +bottom with little, bright-leaved trees—not of varied tints of one +colour, like Earth trees, but of widely diverse colours, most of which +were brilliant and positive. + +The floor itself was like a magician’s garden. Densely interwoven trees, +shrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for possession of it. +The forms were strange and grotesque, and each one seemed different; the +colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and stem were equally +peculiar—all the different combinations of the five primary colours of +Tormance seemed to be represented, and the result, for Maskull was a +sort of eye chaos. So rank was the vegetation that he could not fight +his way through it; he was obliged to take to the riverbed. The contact +of the water created an odd tingling sensation throughout his body, like +a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a few extraordinary- +looking winged reptiles of small size kept crossing the valley from hill +to hill. Swarms of flying insects clustered around him, threatening +mischief, but in the end it turned out that his blood was disagreeable +to them, for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling creatures +resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in myriads +on the banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use their +weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into the +water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a hideous +monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape—if it resembled +anything—a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. They stared at +one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with cool and wary +ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened to him. + +His eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring passed +away and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in character. +He was looking right through the animal’s body and could distinguish all +its interior parts. The outer crust, however, and all the hard tissues +were misty and semi-transparent; through them a luminous network of +blood-red veins and arteries stood out in startling distinctness. The +hard parts faded away to nothingness, and the blood system alone was +left. Not even the fleshy ducts remained. The naked blood alone was +visible, flowing this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the +shape of the monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a +continuous liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a +million individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by +the rapid motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled +minute suns in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a double +drift of stars, streaming through space. One drift was travelling toward +a fixed point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it. He +recognised the former as the veins of the beast, the latter as the +arteries, and the fixed point as the heart. + +While he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network went +out suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean had stood, +there was nothing. Yet through this “nothing” he could not see the +landscape. Something was standing there that intercepted the light, +though it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. And now the +object, which could no longer be perceived by vision, began to be felt +by emotion. A delightful, springlike sense of rising sap, of quickening +pulses of love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity—took possession +of his being, and, strangely enough, he identified it with the monster. +Why that invisible brute should cause him to feel young, sexual, and +audacious, he did not ask himself, for he was fully occupied with the +effect. But it was as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and +he were face to face with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into +his own body. + +The sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the +streaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed to +the red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with more +and more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew +fainter. Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed by the +crust—the creature stood opposite Maskull in its old formidable +ugliness, hard, painted, and concrete. + +Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and stumbled +awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive movements, +toward the other bank of the stream. + +Maskull’s apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and +thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through +Digrung’s eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately ahead. +The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down with his will, +and nothing happened. + +The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed +considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and +higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was +deeper—it was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric +sensations caused by its water became more pronounced, almost +disagreeably so; but there was nowhere else to walk. With its deafening +confusion of sounds from the multitude of living creatures, the little +valley resembled a vast conversation hall of Nature. The life was still +more prolific than before; every square foot of space was a tangle of +struggling wills, both animal and vegetable. For a naturalist it would +have been paradise, for no two shapes were alike, and all were +fantastic, with individual character. + +It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that +there was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on +Earth, where a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be +sown. Here the young forms seemed to survive, while, to find +accommodation for them, the old ones perished; everywhere he looked they +were withering and dying, without any ostensible cause—they were simply +being killed by new life. + +Other creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that they +became of different “kingdoms” altogether. For example, a fruit was +lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with a +tougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; but +inside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of bursting +its shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back toward him; +by the time he was even with it, its downward motion had stopped and it +was swimming against the current. He fished it out and discovered that +it had sprouted six rudimentary legs. + +Maskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously overcrowded +valley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and depressed. He +thought that the unseen power—whether it was called Nature, Life, Will, +or God—that was so frantic to rush forward and occupy this small, +vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was not +worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical +existence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important +business was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he +longed for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the +ravine, he began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up +from tree to tree. + +When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such +brutal, white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He +looked around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He +had travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare, +undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in +the distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone’s +Island. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he +could see. Over the crest—that is to say, some miles away—a line of +black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed +themselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against the +sky, perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of +Lichstorm, most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the +sunlight. + +They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were +conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced +themselves at what looked like impossible angles—overhanging without +apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought: +extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there, +and to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get +there before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted +him than the country which lay beyond—the prospect of setting eyes on +the blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance. + +The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question, +because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed, +however, that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and +decided to keep to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared +it. Into the hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself. + +Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for several +miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly +difficult. The cliffs closed in on either side until they were less than +a hundred yards apart, while the bed of the ravine was blocked by +boulders, great and small, so that the little stream, which was now +diminished to the proportions of a brook, had to come down where and how +it could. The forms of life grew stranger. Pure plants and pure animals +disappeared by degrees, and their place was filled by singular creatures +that seemed to partake of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will, +and intelligence, but they remained for the greater part of their time +rooted in the ground by preference, and they fed only on soil and air. +Maskull saw no sexual organs and failed to understand how the young came +into existence. + +Then he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed +plant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. He +could not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long time +in amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before him, as +thought it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull +resumed his striding from rock to rock up the gorge, and then, quietly +and without warning, the same phenomenon occurred again. No longer could +he doubt that he was seeing miracles—that Nature was precipitating its +shapes into the world without making use of the medium of parentage.... +No solution of the problem presented itself. + +The brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up +from its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the air. +He had not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its +quality. He felt new life entering his body, from his feet upward; it +resembled a slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. The sensation +was quite new in his experience, yet he knew by instinct what it was. +The energy emitted by the brook was ascending his body neither as friend +nor foe but simply because it happened to be the direct road to its +objective elsewhere. But, although it had no hostile intentions, it was +likely to prove a rough traveller—he was clearly conscious that its +passage through his body threatened to bring about some physical +transformation, unless he could do something to prevent it. Leaping +quickly out of the water, he leaned against a rock, tightened his +muscles, and braced himself against the impending change. At that very +moment the blurring again attacked his sight, and, while he was guarding +against that, his forehead sprouted out into a galaxy of new eyes. He +put his hand up and counted six, in addition to his old ones. + +The danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on +having got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were +for—whether they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a dozen +steps up the ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the act of +jumping down from the top of a boulder, his vision altered and he came +to an automatic standstill. He was perceiving two worlds simultaneously. +With his own eyes he saw the gorge as before, with its rocks, brook, +plant-animals, sunshine, and shadows. But with his acquired eyes he saw +differently. All the details of the valley were visible, but the light +seemed turned down, and everything appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured. +The sun was obscured by masses of cloud which filled the whole sky. This +vapour was in violent and almost living motion. It was thick in +extension, but thin in texture; some parts, however, were far denser +than others, as the particles were crushed together or swept apart by +the motion. The green sparks from the brook, when closely watched, could +be distinguished individually, each one wavering up toward the clouds, +but the moment they got within them a fearful struggle seemed to begin. +The spark endeavoured to escape through to the upper air, while the +clouds concentrated around it whichever way it darted, trying to create +so dense a prison that further movement would be impossible. As far as +Maskull could detect, most of the sparks succeeded eventually in finding +their way out after frantic efforts; but one that he was looking at was +caught, and what happened was this. A complete ring of cloud surrounded +it, and, in spite of its furious leaps and flashes in all directions—as +if it were a live, savage creature caught in a net—nowhere could it find +an opening, but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with it, wherever +it went. The vapours continued to thicken around it, until they +resembled the black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a bad +thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the +interior, ceased its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent. +The cloud shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly +spherical; as it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend +toward the valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its +lower end only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether +and there was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like +a stab of forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became small, +indented, and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on +legs and rooting up the ground in search of food. The concluding stage +of the phenomenon he witnessed with his normal eyesight. It showed him +the creature’s appearing miraculously out of nowhere. + +Maskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to +curiosity and awe. “That was exactly like the birth of a thought,” he +said to himself, “but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind is at +work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are +different, and he has character, for all belong to the same general +type.... If I’m not wrong, and if it’s the force called Shaping or +Crystalman, I’ve seen enough to make me want to find out something more +about him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other riddles before I +have solved these.” + +A voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a +human figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. It +looked more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but nimble, and +was clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached from the neck to +below the knees. Around his head was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for +him, and when he was nearer went a little way to meet him. + +Then he experienced another surprise, for this person, although clearly +a human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything between the two, +but was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which was remarkable to +behold and difficult to understand. In order to translate into words the +sexual impression produced in Maskull’s mind by the stranger’s physical +aspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in earthly use +would be applicable. Instead of “he,” “she,” or “it,” therefore “ae” +will be used. + +He found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily +peculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, and +not from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. Body, +face, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but something +quite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a woman at the +first glance by some indefinable difference of expression and +atmospheres altogether apart from the contour of the figure, so the +stranger was separated in appearance from both. As with men and women, +the whole person expressed a latent sensuality, which gave body and face +alike their peculiar character.... Maskull decided that it was love—but +what love—love for whom? It was neither the shame-carrying passion of a +male, nor the deep-rooted instinct of a female to obey her destiny. It +was as real and irresistible as these, but quite different. + +As he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an +intuitive feeling that aer lover was no other than Shaping himself. It +came to him that the design of this love was not the continuance of the +race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No children were +produced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal child. Further, +ae sought like a man, but received like a woman. All these things were +dimly and confusedly expressed by this extraordinary being, who seemed +to have dropped out of another age, when creation was different. + +Of all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, this +one struck him as infinitely the most foreign—that is, the farthest +removed from him in spiritual structure. If they were to live together +for a hundred years, they could never be companions. + +Maskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing +the newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to account +for the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae possessed broad +shoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so far ae +resembled a man. But the bones were so flat and angular that aer flesh +presented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces +in place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down by +the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung +together in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea. +The face too was broken and irregular. With his racial prejudices, +Maskull found little beauty in it, yet beauty there was, though neither +of a masculine nor of a feminine type, for it had the three essentials +of beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper- +coloured and strangely luminous, as if lighted from within. The face was +beardless, but the hair of the head was as long as a woman’s, and, +dressed in a single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae +possessed only two eyes. That part of the turban which went across the +forehead protruded so far in front that it evidently concealed some +organ. + +Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared +active, vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes +were powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless, +the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable +ancientness came upon him—aer real youth seemed as far away as the view +observed through a reversed telescope. + +At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were +conversing with a dream. “To what sex do you belong?” he asked. + +The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was +oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance. + +“Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world was +peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only survivor of all those beings +who were then passing through Faceny’s mind.” + +“Faceny?” + +“Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names +invented by a race of superficial creatures.” + +“What’s your own name?” + +“Leehallfae.” + +“What?” + +“Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have +just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess +extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of +it.” + +“Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never mind +that now. It is your _sex_ that interests me. How do you satisfy your +desires?” + +Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on her brow. “With that I +gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay +valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been +spent trying to find Faceny himself. I’ve hunted so long that if I were +to state the number of years you would believe I lied.” + +Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else from +Matterplay—a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.” + +“You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.” + +“It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?” + +Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. “In Matterplay he will stir +inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I knew +him.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may happen. +Keep out of the water.” + +“This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.” + +“Don’t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by right to +the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to remove +them.” + +Maskull continued thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have to +be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?” + +“Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to serve +me. Together we will search for Threal.” + +“Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?” + +“I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.” + +“You said Faceny, Leehallfae.” + +The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. “This +stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its +source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is +in Threal that we must look for Faceny.” + +“But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s a well-known +country?” + +“It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are few, +and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have +scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of +Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants +beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, +dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.” + +“Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have found +Faceny, what do you gain?” + +Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and +its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that +Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief +and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the +scents and traces of whose person were always present. This passion +stamped aer features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual +beauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man. + +But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast +showed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but +vulgar—it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims +with untiring persistence. + +He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his +thigh. “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any +case I shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as +yourself.” + +“But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different creations. A +phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s body contains only the +half of life—the other half is in woman. Faceny may be too strong a +draught for your body to endure.... Do you not feel this?” + +“I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions I +can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the phaen’s +thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he proceeded to +swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not forgetting your advice, +Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and finish it +as Digrung.” + +The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road +was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it +warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they +could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a +long time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel +to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. +The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, +where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears +vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream. + +Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying +to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull, +or what is the matter?” + +“Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, if +anyone does. What is Muspel?” + +The phaen’s face was blank. “I don’t know the name.” + +“It is another world of some sort.” + +“That cannot be. There is only this one world—Faceny’s.” + +Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. “I’m glad I fell +in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything connected with +it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot there are hardly +any organic forms left—why have they all disappeared? You call this +brook a ‘life stream,’ yet the nearer its source we get, the less life +it produces. A mile or two lower down we had those spontaneous plant- +animals appearing out of nowhere, while right down by the sea, plants +and animals were tumbling over one another. Now, if all this is +connected in some mysterious way or other with your Faceny, it seems to +me he must have a most paradoxical nature. His essence doesn’t start +creating shapes until it has become thoroughly weakened and watered.... +But perhaps both of us are talking nonsense.” + +Leehallfae shook aer head. “Everything hangs together. The stream is +life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these +sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes. +The nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous +is its life. You’ll see for yourself when we reach the head of the +valley that there are no living shapes there at all. That means that +there is no kind of matter tough enough to capture and hold the terrible +sparks that are to be found there. Lower down the stream, most of the +sparks are vigorous enough to escape to the upper air, but some are held +when they are a little way up, and these burst suddenly into shapes. I +myself am of this nature. Lower down still, toward the sea, the stream +has lost a great part of its vital power and the sparks are lazy and +sluggish. They spread out, rather than rise into the air. There is +hardly any kind of matter, however delicate, that is incapable of +capturing these feeble sparks, and they are captured in multitudes—that +accounts for the innumerable living shapes you see there. But not only +that—the sparks are passed from one body to another by way of +generation, and can never hope to cease being so until they are worn out +by decay. Lowest of all, you have the Sinking Sea itself. There the +degenerate and enfeebled life of the Matterplay streams has for its body +the whole sea. So weak is it’s power that it can’t succeed in creating +any shapes at all but you can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to do +so, in those spouts.” + +“So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness of +the life germ in their case?” + +“Exactly. It can’t attain all its desires at once. And now you can see +how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously from +the more electric and vigorous sparks.” + +“But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?” + +“When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its place is +constantly taken by new matter.” + +“But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?” + +“Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left his +brain they are nothing—mere dying embers.” + +“This is a cheerless philosophy,” said Maskull. “But who is Faceny +himself, then, and why does he think at all?” + +Leehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. “That I’ll explain too. Faceny +is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He has no +back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It must +necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and +Nothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally contemplates +Nothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could he +feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in +empty places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.” + +“That rings true,” said Maskull. + +“Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny’s face backward. Since his face +is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught of +thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of +Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the +world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not +outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like +a gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never +see.” + +Maskull pondered deeply for a while. + +“Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, since +you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought.” + +“Have you never loved a woman?” asked the phaen, regarding him fixedly. + +“Perhaps I have.” + +“When you loved, did you have no high moments?” + +“That’s asking the same question in other words.” + +“In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have drawn +nearer still, would you not have done so?” + +“I would, regardless of the consequences.” + +“Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?” + +“But I would have that to hope for.” + +Leehallfae walked on in silence. + +“A man is the half of Life,” ae broke out suddenly. “A woman is the +other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. Moreover, when +life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped out of +it—something that belongs only to the whole. Between your love and mine +there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn to Faceny, +without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you suppose it is +with me?” + +“I don’t question the genuineness of your passion,” replied Maskull, +“but it’s a pity you can’t see your way to carry it forward into the +next world.” + +Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion. +“Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see the +world only as it really is.” + +That ended the conversation. + +The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the +head of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except at +those moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode +along all the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot and +relaxing. All life had ceased. A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was +presented by the cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that +choked the entire width of the gorge. They were of a snow-white +crystalline limestone, heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue. +The rivulet was no longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal. Its +noise was musical, and altogether it looked most romantic and charming, +but Leehallfae seemed to find something else in it—aer features grew +more and more set and tortured. + +About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another +plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes. It +was as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous +appearance, as befitted a creature just out of Nature’s mint. It started +to walk about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder. +Nothing remained of it—the whole body disappeared instantaneously into +the same invisible mist from which it had sprung. + +“That bears out what you said,” commented Maskull, turning rather pale. + +“Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the region of terrible +life.” + +“Then, since you’re right in this, I must believe all that you’ve been +telling me.” + +As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine. +There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three +hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the head +of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed. + +“In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now lend me your +luck.” + +They walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it +reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be +difficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a few +feet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be heard. +The floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up the precipice +the sun was shining. + +“What do you want me to do?” demanded Maskull. + +“Everything is now in your hands, and I have no suggestions to make. +Now it’s your luck that must help us.” + +Maskull continued gazing up a little while longer. “We had better wait +till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I’ll probably have to climb to the top, +but it’s too hot at present—and besides, I’m tired. I’ll snatch a few +hours’ sleep. After that, we’ll see.” + +Leehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition. + + + +Chapter 17. CORPANG + +Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was +standing by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae +had slept at all. + +“What time is it?” Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. + +“The day is passing,” was the vague reply. + +Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. “Now I’m going to +climb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so you wait here, +and if I find anything on top I’ll call you.” + +A phaen glanced at him strangely. “There’s nothing up there except a +bare hillside. I’ve been there often. Have you anything special in +mind?” + +“Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait.” + +Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the +cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it grew +precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and +intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect +before every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no +novice at the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it +half blinded him with its glittering whiteness. + +After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating +copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two +projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling +upward, his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the +larger of the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a +huge, dark shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to +the foot of the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones. +Maskull steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments +before he dared to look down behind him. + +At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight of +legs and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He +perceived that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising +something, and waited for aer to reappear. + +Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice, +“The entrance is here!” + +“I’m coming down!” roared Maskull. “Wait for me!” + +He descended swiftly—without taking too much care, for he thought he +recognised his “luck” in this discovery—and within twenty minutes was +standing beside the phaen. + +“What happened?” + +“The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the spring. It +tore it out of its bed. See—now there’s room for us to get in!” + +“Don’t get excited!” said Maskull. “It’s a remarkable accident, but we +have plenty of time. Let me look.” + +He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man +without stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet +a peculiar glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock +tunnel went straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight. +The valley brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had +expected, but came up as a spring just inside the entrance. + +“Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe that +your stream parts company with us here.” + +As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was +trembling from head to foot. + +“Why, what’s the matter?” + +Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. “The stream leaves us, but what +makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there.” + +“But surely you don’t expect to see him in person? Why are you shaking?” + +“Perhaps it will be too much for me after all.” + +“Why? How is it affecting you?” + +The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm’s length, +endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. “Faceny’s thoughts are +obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he grants to you +what he denies to me.” + +“What does he grant to me?” + +“To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it’s immaterial. +Tomorrow both of us will be dead.” + +Maskull impatiently shook himself free. “Your sensations may be reliable +in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?” + +“Life is flaming up inside you,” replied Leehallfae, shaking aer head. +“But after it has reached its climax—perhaps tonight—it will sink +rapidly and you’ll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter Threal I shan’t +come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to me out of this +hole.” + +“You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing.” + +“I am not frightened,” said Leehallfae quietly—ae had been gradually +recovering aer tranquillity—“but when one has lived as long as I have, +it is a serious matter to die. Every year one puts out new roots.” + +“Decide what you’re going to do,” said Maskull with a touch of contempt, +“for I’m going in at once.” + +The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that +walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his +head, followed close at aer heels. + +The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere +altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear and +refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts. The +daylight disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that, +Maskull could not say where the light came from. The air itself must +have been luminous, for though it was as light as full moon on Earth, +neither he nor Leehallfae cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the +light was that both the walls of the tunnel and their own bodies +appeared colourless. Everything was black and white, like a lunar +landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal feelings created by the +atmosphere. + +After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to +widen out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could have +walked side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged +aerself along slowly and painfully, with sunken head. + +Maskull caught hold of aer. “You can’t go on like that. Better let me +take you back.” + +The phaen smiled, and staggered. “I’m dying.” + +“Don’t talk like that. It’s only a passing indisposition. Let me take +you back to the daylight.” + +“No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny.” + +“The sick must have their way,” said Maskull. Lifting aer bodily in his +arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or so. They then +emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of which he had +never set eyes upon before. + +“Set me down!” directed Leehallfae feebly. “Here I’ll die.” + +Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground. +The phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with +fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape. + +Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain, +lighted as if by the moon—but there was of course no moon, and there +were no shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside +them were trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but +the branches also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other +plants could be seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice. +Beyond a mile or two in any direction the light merged into obscurity. +At their back a great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not +square like a wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented +line of sea cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight. +Here and there a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered, +towered aloft into the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof. +There were no colours—every detail of the landscape was black, white, or +grey. The scene appeared so still, so solemn and religious, that all his +feelings quieted down to absolute tranquillity. + +Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and +helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a +candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of +Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen’s dead features. + +While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone +standing beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at +once rise. + +“Another phaen dead,” said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, and +intellectual voice. + +Maskull got up. + +The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not +disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were +energetic and rather coarse—yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure, +hard life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine eyes +carried a twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was +apparently in the forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the +hair of his head was short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed +in a black, sleeveless robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There +was an air of cleanness and austerity about the whole man that was +attractive. + +He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so, +kept passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. “They all +find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live +to an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because of +their spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured +children of Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at +once.” + +“I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?” + +“I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you +doing here?” + +“My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. As +for what I am doing here—I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, from +Matterplay.” + +“But a man doesn’t accompany a phaen out of friendship. What do you want +in Threal?” + +“Then this is Threal?” + +“Yes.” + +Maskull remained silent. + +Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. “Are you ignorant, or +merely reticent, Maskull?” + +“I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them.” + +The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred, +and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as +though they were in a cathedral. + +“Then do you want my society, or not?” asked Corpang. + +“Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is—not to talk about +myself.” + +“But you must at least tell me where you want to go to.” + +“I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm.” + +“I can guide you through, if that’s all you want. Come, let us start.” + +“First let’s do our duty and bury the dead, if possible.” + +“Turn around,” directed Corpang. + +Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae’s body had disappeared. + +“What does this mean—what has happened?” + +“The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for it +to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required.” + +“Was the phaen an illusion, then?” + +“In no sense.” + +“Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be going +mad.” + +“There’s nothing unintelligible in it, if you’ll only listen calmly. The +phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible world—to Faceny. +This underworld is not Faceny’s world, but Thire’s, and Faceny’s +creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. As this applies not only to +whole bodies, but even to the last particles of bodies, the phaen has +dissolved into Nothingness.” + +“But don’t you and I belong to the outside world too?” + +“We belong to all three worlds.” + +“What three worlds—what do you mean?” + +“There are three worlds,” said Corpang composedly. “The first is +Faceny’s, the second is Amfuse’s, the third is Thire’s. From him Threal +gets its name.” + +“But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three worlds?” + +Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. “All this we can discuss as +we go along. It’s a torment to me to be standing still.” + +Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae’s body had lain, quite +bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely tear +himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang +called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him. + +They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, +directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the +absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the +jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly +silence, the knowledge that he was underground—the combination of all +these things predisposed Maskull’s mind to mysticism, and he prepared +himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang’s explanation of the land and +its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of the outside +world and the reality of this world were two quite different things. + +“In what sense are there three worlds?” he demanded, repeating his +former question. + +Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. “First of all, +Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it’s mere intellectual +curiosity, tell me, for we mustn’t play with awful matters.” + +“No, it isn’t that,” said Maskull slowly. “I’m not a student. My journey +is no holiday tour.” + +“Isn’t there blood on your soul?” asked Corpang, eying him intently. + +The blood rose steadily to Maskull’s face, but in that light it caused +it to appear black. + +“Unfortunately there is, and not a little.” + +The other’s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment. + +“And so you see,” went on Maskull, with a short laugh, “I’m in the very +best condition for receiving your instruction.” + +Corpang still paused. “Underneath your crimes I see a man,” he said, +after a few minutes. “On that account, and because we are commanded to +help one another, I won’t leave you at present, though I little thought +to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... Whatever a +man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways—length, breadth, +depth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, depth is feeling.” + +“Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who came +from Threal.” + +“I don’t know him. What else did he tell you?” + +“He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the +interruption.” + +“These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is +Faceny’s world, relation is Amfuse’s world, feeling is Thire’s world.” + +“Can’t we come down to hard facts?” said Maskull, frowning. “I +understand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds.” + +“There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first +world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of +nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.” + +“That I understand.” + +“The second world is Love—by which I don’t mean lust. Without love, +every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable deliberately +to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy—not even +hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect and +distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny’s world of Nature, +therefore, we have Amfuse’s world of Love, or Relation.” + +“What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world is +not contained in the first?” + +“They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover lives +for others.” + +“It may be so. It’s rather mystical. But go on—who is Thire?” + +“Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and love +without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the +need of men to stretch out toward their creator.” + +“You mean prayer and worship?” + +“I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in either +the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as depth +is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between +Thire and man.” + +“But what is Thire himself?” + +“Thire is the afterworld.” + +“I still don’t understand,” said Maskull. “Do you believe in three +separate gods, or are these merely three ways of regarding one God?” + +“There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they are +somehow united.” + +Maskull reflected a while. “How have you arrived at these conclusions?” + +“None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.” + +“Why in Threal—what is there peculiar here?” + +“I will show you presently.” + +They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what +had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the +banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted. + +“That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,” he +remarked. + +Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and +uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance. + +“How has this come about—and how did you know it?” + +“They were Faceny’s organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen’s body +vanished.” + +Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. “I feel more human without them. But +why isn’t the rest of my body affected?” + +“Because its living will contains the element of Thire.” + +“Why are we stopping here?” + +Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and +proffered it to him. “Eat this, Maskull.” + +“For food, or something else?” + +“Food for body and soul.” + +Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was +bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change +of perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline, +became several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang +he was impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed +expression was still in his eyes. + +“Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?” + +“Occasionally I go above, but not often.” + +“What fastens you to this gloomy world?” + +“The search for Thire.” + +“Then it’s still a search?” + +“Let us walk on.” + +As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, +the conversation became even more earnest in character than before. +“Although I was not born here,” proceeded Corpang, “I’ve lived here for +twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing nearer +to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it—the first +stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. The +longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the +beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a +voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and +harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles +off.” + +“How do you explain that?” + +“When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull.” + +“But this is troubling you?” + +“My days are spent in torture.” + +“You still persist, though? This day darkness can’t be the ultimate +state?” + +“My questions will be answered.” + +A silence ensued. + +“What do you propose to show me?” asked Maskull. + +“The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three Figures, +which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, we will +pray.” + +“And what then?” + +“If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily +forget.” + +They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two +parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills +on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as it +curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view. They +came to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed a +trickling brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was +flowing up the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by +other miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized +stream. Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead. + +“Nature has other laws here, it seems?” + +“Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds.” + +“Yet the water is flowing somewhere.” + +“I can’t explain it, but there are three wills in it.” + +“Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?” + +“Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without +Faceny.” + +Maskull thought this over for some minutes. “That must be so,” he said +at last. “Without life there can be no love, and without love there can +be no religious feeling.” + +In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the +valley presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The +sides were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower +at every step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and +sepulchral. + +Maskull said, “I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another world.” + +“I still do not know what you are doing here,” answered Corpang. + +“Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur.” + +“That name I’ve heard—but under what circumstances?” + +“You forget?” + +Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled. +“Who is Surtur?” + +Maskull shook his head, and said nothing. + +The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching +fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock +walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but +just when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by +cliffs on all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly +into the open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of +precipices. + +A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the +way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred +yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with +perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet, but +its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one +another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too +proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged +onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher +than that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double +line of lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible. + +The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight +forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a +waterfall, it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then +disappeared through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side. + +To Maskull’s mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural +phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here +than on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms. + +Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When +they had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet. +Three large rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three +upright giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of +the chasm. Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that +they were statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship +was of the rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and trunks +had been barely chipped into shape—the faces alone had had care bestowed +on them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was obviously +the work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with knees closed +and arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were exactly +alike. + +As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted. + +“Is this a representation of your three Beings?” asked Maskull, awed by +the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity. + +“Ask no questions, but kneel,” replied Corpang. He dropped onto his own +knees, but Maskull remained standing. + +Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a few +minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he +continued looking. + +It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight +and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit. + +Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had +ceased to be a statue—it was a living person. Out of the blackness of +space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy +glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew +stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow +came from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist. + +Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that +of a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl +and the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull +felt the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one who +awakes from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark, +delicate colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and +looked beyond him. He began to shudder, with delight—and many emotions. +As he gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and +indefinable character that he could endure it no more; he burst into +tears. + +When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few +moments more he was plunged back into total darkness. + +Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured +into a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its +face and body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from +them. This light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden +fire. It illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges, the +cliffs, himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted +statues—all appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and +strongly defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat. +Maskull was unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart +melting to womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded +imperceptibly away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left +behind was not freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate +and nearly savage mental state of pity and distress. He felt a +tormenting desire to serve. All this came from the heat of the statue, +and was without an object. He glanced anxiously around him, and fastened +his eyes on Corpang. He put a hand on his shoulder and aroused him from +his praying. + +“You must know what I am feeling, Corpang.” + +Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing. + +“I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?” + +“So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to the +invisible worlds.” + +As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to +die away from the landscape. Maskull’s emotion slowly subsided, but it +was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became +master of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition +of enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting +in his character. He got up onto his feet. + +The very moment that he arose, a man’s voice sounded, not a yard from +his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could distinguish +that it was not Corpang’s. As he listened he was unable to prevent +himself from physically trembling. + +“Maskull, you are to die,” said the unseen speaker. + +“Who is speaking?” + +“You have only a few hours of life left. Don’t trifle the time away.” + +Maskull could bring nothing out. + +“You have despised life,” went on the low-toned voice. “Do you really +imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is a joke?” + +“What must I do?” + +“Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to...” + +The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again. +All remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken his +departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of +catalepsy. + +At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, white +glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining. + +In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got +up, and shook him out of his trance. + +Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. “Whose statue was the +last?” he demanded. + +“Thire’s.” + +“Did you hear me speaking?” + +“I heard your voice, but no one else’s.” + +“I’ve just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long to live. +Leehallfae prophesied the same thing.” + +Corpang shook his head. “What value do you set on life?” he asked. + +“Very little. But it’s a fearful thing all the same.” + +“Your death is?” + +“No, but this warning.” + +They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men +seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard +the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way +off and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked. +It appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where +they were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull’s heart beat +quickly. + +“What can that sound be?” asked Corpang, peering into the obscurity. + +“It is Surtur.” + +“Once again, who is Surtur?” + +Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance +was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in +intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer +seen by Their’s light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows. + +Corpang’s nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. “What fire +is that?” + +“It is Muspel-light.” + +They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange +glow they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in +the sordid and horrible Crystalman mask. + +Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. “What can this mean?” +he asked a minute later. + +“It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, whether +he is one person or three.” + +Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a +shocking sight. “Dare we believe this?” + +“You must,” replied Maskull. “You have always served the highest, and +you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire is not +the highest.” + +Corpang’s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. “Life is +clearly false—I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I +find—this.” + +“You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had eternity +to practice his cunning in, so it’s no wonder if a man can’t see +straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?” + +“The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?” + +“Yes.” + +“But where will it take us?” + +“Perhaps out of Threal altogether.” + +“It sounds to me more real than reality,” said Corpang. “Tell me, who is +Surtur?” + +“Surtur’s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which this +world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is other than +life.” + +“How do you know this?” + +“It has sprung together somehow—from inspiration, from experience, from +conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it grows truer +for me and takes a more definite shape.” + +Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, +energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. “I believe you, +Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not the +highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but the +thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming +with you—but don’t play the traitor. These signs may be for you, and not +for me at all, and if you leave me—” + +“I make no promises. I don’t ask you to come with me. If you prefer to +stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you had +better not come.” + +“Don’t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me... Let us +make haste, or we shall lose the sound.” + +Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the +direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along +the ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually +departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical +beats continued, but a very long way ahead—neither was able to diminish +the distance. + +“What kind of man are you?” Corpang suddenly broke out. + +“In what respect?” + +“How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it that +I’ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my never- +ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to me?” + +“To hear voices perhaps can’t be made a profession,” replied Maskull. “I +have a simple and unoccupied mind—that may be why I sometimes hear +things that up to the present you have not been able to.” + +Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his +pride. + +The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on +the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the +right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a +bridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of +precipices immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along +the base of these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large +cave the sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps +inward. + +“This leads to the outer world,” remarked Corpang. “I’ve occasionally +been there by this passage.” + +“Then that’s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan’t be +sorry to see sunlight once more.” + +“Can you find time to think of sunlight?” asked Corpang with a rough +smile. + +“I love the sun, and perhaps I’m rather lacking in the spirit of a +zealot.” + +“Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.” + +“Don’t be bitter,” said Maskull. “I’ll tell you another thing. Muspel +can’t be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not concern the +will. To will is a property of this world.” + +“Then what is your journey for?” + +“It’s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the walk, +and quite another to run there at top speed.” + +“Perhaps I’m not so easily deceived as you think,” said Corpang with +another smile. + +The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep +ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to +climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the +confined dreams of his childhood. + +Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the +last stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all +dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a +hillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang +followed closely at his heels. He was obliged to shield his eyes with +his hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell’s +blinding rays. + +“The drum beats have stopped!” he exclaimed suddenly. + +“You can’t expect music all the time,” answered Maskull dryly. “We +mustn’t be luxurious.” + +“But now we have no guide. We’re no better off than before.” + +“Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, Corpang. +As I come from the south, I always go due north.” + +“That will take us to Lichstorm.” + +Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. “I saw +these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they +did then, and there’s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm +from here?” + +Corpang looked away to the distant range. “I don’t know, but unless a +miracle happens we shan’t get there tonight.” + +“I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not only get there +tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life.” + +And he sat down passively to rest. + + + +Chapter 18. HAUNTE + +While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his +arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed +impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped +short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. “What do you intend to +do?” + +Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. +“Since we can’t walk, we must wait.” + +“For what?” + +“I don’t know... How’s this, though? Those peaks have changed colour, +from red to green.” + +“Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.” + +“The lich wind?” + +“It’s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the mountains, +but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as Threal.” + +“It’s a sort of fog, then?” + +“A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.” + +“So we are to have lovemaking,” said Maskull, laughing. + +“Perhaps you won’t find it so joyous,” replied Corpang a little grimly. + +“But tell me—these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?” + +Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast +fading into obscurity. + +“Passion keeps them from falling.” + +Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. +“What, the love of rock for rock?” + +“It is comical, but true.” + +“We’ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the mountains is +Barey, is it not?” + +“Yes.” + +“And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?” + +“That is told only to those who die beside it.” + +“Is the secret so precious, Corpang?” + +Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than +two hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. +It was a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now +appeared only as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling, +and was exciting in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional +inflammation, as though a very slight external cause would serve to +overturn his self-control. Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron. + +Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. + +“That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something from +the top.” + +Without waiting for his companion’s opinion, he began to scramble up the +tor, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined +him. + +From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the +sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. +Leaving all that, however, Maskull’s eyes immediately fastened +themselves on a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which +was travelling rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the +air. + +“What do you make of that?” he asked in a tone of astonishment. + +Corpang shook his head and said nothing. + +Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished +the distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and +more, but its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was +continually jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull +now made out a man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large +dead animal lying amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he +observed a thick, blue haze underneath it, and a similar haze behind, +but the front, facing them, was clear. + +“Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth +carries it?” + +He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had +not been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made +wild motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred +yards distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a +way that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence. + +The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a +walking man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was +shaped rather queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides +tapered off from a flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern. +The flat bottom was not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked, +and carried only one living occupant; the other object they had +distinguished was really the carcass of an animal, of about the size of +a large sheep. The blue haze trailing behind the boat appeared to +emanate from the glittering point of a short upright pole fastened in +the stern. When the craft was within a few feet of them, and they were +looking down at it in wonder from above, the man removed this pole and +covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. The forward motion then +ceased altogether, and the boat began to drift hither and thither, but +still it remained suspended in the air, while the haze underneath +persisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against the pile of +rocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore and +immediately clambered up to meet them. + +Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a +young man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His +limbs were quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long, +and he had the biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in a +man. His hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding +teeth, and a spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped +upward. On his forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been +mutilated—it was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short +and thin. Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed +to stand in the same relation to jale as green to red. + +Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two +companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. +Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the +first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background. + +“What men are you?” demanded the aerial navigator at last. His voice was +extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It sounded to +Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way through a +narrow orifice. + +“I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where I +come from, don’t ask.” + +“I am Haunte, from Sarclash.” + +“Where may that be?” + +“Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got too +murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm.” + +“Are you returning there now?” + +“Yes.” + +“And how long will it take to get there in that boat?” + +“Two—three hours.” + +“Will it accommodate us too?” + +“What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?” + +“To see the sights,” responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. “But first +of all, to dine. I can’t remember having eaten all day. You seem to have +been hunting to some purpose, so we won’t lack for food.” + +Haunte eyed him quizzically. “You certainly don’t lack impudence. +However, I’m a man of that sort myself, and it is the sort I prefer. +Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a meal of a +stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up out of a +dark hole.” + +Maskull took Corpang’s arm, and constrained him to silence. + +“Where have you been hunting, Haunte?” + +“Matterplay. I had the worst luck—I speared one wold horse, and there it +lies.” + +“What is Lichstorm like?” + +“There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no men- +women, as with you.” + +“What do you call men-women?” + +“Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are pure.” + +“I have always regarded myself as a man.” + +“Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?” + +“Why, do you?” + +Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. “Things are different in +Lichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?” + +“I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what you +say.” + +“Then I’ll introduce you to Sullenbode.” + +He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a +great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook. + +“Let us share the joke,” said Maskull. + +“Oh, you’ll understand it later.” + +“If you play pranks with me, I won’t stand on ceremony with you.” + +Haunte laughed again. “I won’t be the one to play pranks. Sullenbode +will be deeply obliged to me. If I don’t visit her myself as often as +she would like, I’m always glad to serve her in other ways.... Well, you +shall have your boat ride.” + +Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. “If the sexes hate one another in +your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?” + +“In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm +there is hard passion.” + +“But what do you call hard passion?” + +“Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure.” + +“I intend to understand, before I’ve finished.” + +“Yes,” answered Haunte, with a taunting look, “it would be a pity to let +the chance slip, since you’re going to Lichstorm.” + +It was now Corpang’s turn to take Maskull by the arm. “This journey will +end badly.” + +“Why so?” + +“Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women.” + +“Let me alone,” said Maskull. “Give luck a slack rein. What brought this +boat here?” + +“What is this talk about Muspel?” demanded Haunte. + +Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes. +“What do you know?” + +“Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high time +to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn’t child’s play, let me +tell you.” + +“I shall not forget,” said Corpang. + +Maskull gazed down at the boat. “Are we to get in?” + +“Gently, my friend. It’s only canework and skin.” + +“First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived to +dispense with the laws of gravitation.” + +Haunte smiled sarcastically. “A secret in your ear, Maskull. All laws +are female. A true male is an outlaw—outside the law.” + +“I don’t understand.” + +“The great body of the earth is continually giving out female particles, +and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally continually +trying to reach them. That’s gravitation.” + +“Then how do you manage with your boat?” + +“My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat prevents it +from falling to the ground; the one in the stern shuts it off from solid +objects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any part of +the earth is the bow, for that’s the only part the light of the male +stones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels.” + +“And what are these wondrous male stones?” + +“They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they are +showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the +female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left +over to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the +least attracted in that direction.” + +Maskull ruminated for a minute. + +“With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very +handy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun’s sinking, and we’d better +start.” + +“Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then you +and your gloomy friend can sit amidships.” + +Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but +then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom, +still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear, +as though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but +the rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and +he was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty. + +After the first moment’s shock, he quietly accepted the new order of +things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight in +the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then +descended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his +settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last; +grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to +erect it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near +view of the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of +Nature, acted indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In +the last ruddy gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it +looked little more impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating +blue-white jewel, but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured +mist that it threw out for many yards around. + +The steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to +the top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment of +the male stone’s rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be shut +off at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial vessel +quietly detached itself from the rock to which it had been drawn, and +passed slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. Branchspell +sank below the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out everything +outside a radius of a few miles. The air grew cool and fresh. + +Soon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte withdrew +the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. + +“You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night,” +exclaimed Maskull. “I would have thought it impossible.” + +Haunte grunted. “You will have to take risks, and think yourself +fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. But +one thing I can tell you—if you go on disturbing me with your chitchat +we shan’t get as far as the mountains.” + +Thereafter Maskull was silent. + +The twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to look +at, but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to the +never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of +gravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing of +a small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy. +Haunte, from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with one +eye. The darkness now came on rapidly. + +About ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they arrived +at the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There was no +daylight left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides of them +and in the rear, the landscape was lighted up for a considerable +distance by the now vivid blue rays of the twin male stones. Ahead, +where these rays did not shine, Haunte was guided by the self-luminous +nature of the rocks, grass, and trees. These were faintly +phosphorescent; the vegetation shone out more strongly than the soil. + +The moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore +inferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or twice, +from his sensations of choking, he thought that they were entering a +fogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the effect of +doubling the intensity of every light in front of them. Whenever this +happened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he experienced transitory, +unreasoning fright and horror. + +Now they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills from +the mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many thousands of +feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to manoeuvre carefully +with the rear light in order to keep clear of them. Maskull watched the +delicacy of his movements, not without admiration. A long time went by. +It grew much colder; the air was damp and drafty. The fog began to +deposit something like snow on their persons. Maskull kept sweating with +terror, not because of the danger they were in, but because of the cloud +banks that continued to envelop them. + +They cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this time +with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by +the male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out +of sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke +through. In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling +hither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through +one of which Teargeld was shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic +peak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and +was then swallowed up again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the +mist. The moon went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him +long for the aerial voyage to end. + +The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new +cliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, downward, and on +both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. After coasting it a +little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out. It was square, +measuring about a dozen feet each way. Green snow covered it to a depth +of some inches. Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which +promised to be the mouth of a cave. + +Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he +raised the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then +removed both male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. His +face was thrown into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white +rays. It looked rather surly. + +“Do we get out?” inquired Maskull. + +“Yes. I live here.” + +“Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.” + +“Yes, it has been touch-and-go.” + +Corpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. “There has +been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a +ferryman, Haunte.” + +“Is that so?” returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. “I thought +I was carrying men, not gods.” + +“Where are we?” asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but Haunte +remained standing a minute in the boat. + +“This is Sarclash—the second highest mountain in the land.” + +“Which is the highest, then?” + +“Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—very difficult +in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, lies the +top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you know the +lay of the land.” + +“Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?” + +“Near enough.” Haunte grinned. + +He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, +walked straight into the cave. + +Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to a +doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed +his way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made +no comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its +fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared +hard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. + +The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with +walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways: that +by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly +opposite. The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from door +to door. Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground. A +number of lumps of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the +wall, and a few bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were +tusks, horns, and bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two +short hunting spears, having beautiful crystal heads. + +Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther +door; thire light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the +meat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. + +“Are we invited to the feast?” asked Maskull. + +Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not +pause in his chewing. + +“Where’s a cup?” inquired Maskull, lifting one of the skins. + +Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up, +undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the +cup. Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed +off the draught, and then felt much better. + +The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, +swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to +drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, +and began to throw off care. + +Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat +down on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and +coarse, but he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not +understand the flavour, which was not surprising in a world of strange +animals. The meal proceeded in silence. Corpang ate sparingly, standing +up, and afterward lay down on a bundle of furs. His bold eyes watched +all the movements of the other two. Haunte had not drunk as yet. + +At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed +pleasantly, and prepared to talk. + +“Now explain further about your women, Haunte.” + +Haunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off the +string with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in quick +succession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to Maskull. + +“Well?” + +“So they are objectionable?” + +“They are deadly.” + +“Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?” + +“You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had some +bad feelings, eh?” + +“I don’t conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were +struggling with a nightmare. What caused it?” + +“The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion.” + +“I had no passion.” + +“That was passion—the first stage. Nature tickles your people into +marriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You’ll have a +return of those sensations—only ten times worse. The drink you’ve had +will see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?” + +“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you questions.” + +Haunte laughed loudly. “Sullenbode.” + +“You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?” + +“But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, +fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?” + +Maskull coolly drank another cup. “And why should she give all that to a +passerby?” + +“Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn’t it to give. No, what she will +give you, and what you’ll accept from her, because you can’t help it, +is—anguish, insanity, possibly death.” + +“You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why should I +accept insanity and death?” + +“Because your passion will force you to.” + +“What about yourself?” Maskull asked, biting his nails. + +“Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune.” + +“Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?” + +“Yes, but don’t attempt any tricks, Maskull.” + +Maskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. “So men +and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?” he +proceeded at last. + +“That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love +between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is +Maskull’s female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land the +men are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the female side.” + +“Where do the male stones come from?” + +“Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff +somewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure female +world. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual +shapes.” + +“Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?” + +“The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is dangerous +to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?” + +Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. “I remind you of your +promise to tell about Muspel.” + +Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. “Ha! The underground man +has come to life.” + +“Yes, tell us,” put in Maskull carelessly. + +Haunte drank, and laughed a little. “Well, the tale’s short, and hardly +worth telling, but since you’re interested.... A stranger came here five +years ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was Lodd. He came from +the east. He came up to me one bright morning in summer, outside this +very cave. If you ask me to describe him—I can’t imagine a second man +like him. He looked so proud, noble, superior, that I felt my own blood +to be dirty by comparison. You can guess I don’t have this feeling for +everyone. Now that I am recalling him, he was not so much superior as +different. I was so impressed that I rose and talked to him standing. He +inquired the direction of the mountain Adage. He went on to say, ‘They +say Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you know of such a +thing?’ I told him the truth—that I knew nothing about it, and then he +went on, ‘Well, I am going to Adage. And tell those who come after me on +the same errand that they had better do the same thing.’ That was the +whole conversation. He started on his way, and I’ve never seen him or +heard of him since.” + +“So you didn’t have the curiosity to follow him?” + +“No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in the +man somehow seemed to vanish.” + +“Probably because he was useless to you.” + +Corpang glanced at Maskull. “Our road is marked out for us.” + +“So it would appear,” said Maskull indifferently. + +The talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, and +grew restless. + +“What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in +daylight? It struck me as strange.” + +“Dolm,” said Haunte. + +“A compound of ulfire and blue,” explained Corpang. + +“Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger.” + +“What colours have you in your world?” asked Corpang. + +“Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how it +comes about I can’t imagine.” + +“There are two sets of three primary colours here,” said Corpang, “but +as one of the colours—blue—is identical in both sets, altogether there +are five primary colours.” + +“Why two sets?” + +“Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and red; +Alppain, ulfire, blue, and jale.” + +“It’s remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me before.” + +“So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity of +nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a +contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In yellow +light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red is +feeling. When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal +feelings.... As regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle +and is therefore not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it +must be a different sort of existence.” + +Haunte yawned. “There are marvellous philosophers in your underground +hole.” + +Maskull got up and looked about him. + +“Where does that other door lead to?” + +“Better explore,” said Haunte. + +Maskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging the +curtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose abruptly and +hurried after him. + +Corpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit skins, +untied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to the floor. +Next he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the points between his +hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, Haunte and Maskull +reappeared. The host’s quick, shifty eyes at once took in what had +happened. He smiled, and turned pale. + +“You haven’t been idle, friend.” + +Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. “I thought it well to +draw your teeth.” + +Maskull burst out laughing. “The toad’s come into the light to some +purpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?” + +Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly +uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him. +The two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They were as often on the +floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the +better of it. He made no attempt to separate them. A thought came into +his head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, +laughing, through the upper doorway, into the open night air. + +The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A narrow +ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it +was the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the +chasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers +than stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind. While Maskull was +still watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern, +followed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull’s arm excitedly. + +“What in Krag’s name have you done?” + +“Overboard they have gone,” replied Maskull, renewing his laughter. + +“You accursed madman!” + +Haunte’s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal +light were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion +of his will. + +“You know this kills me?” + +“Haven’t you been doing your best this last hour to make me ripe for +Sullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!” + +“You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.” + +Haunte’s jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a sick +man—yet somehow his face had become nobler. + +“I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my being +also very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the same +errand—which doesn’t appear to have struck you yet.” + +“But why this errand at all?” asked Corpang quietly. “Can’t you men +exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?” + +Haunte fixed him with wild eyes. “No. The phantoms come trooping in on +me already.” + +He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again. + +“And I cannot wait.... the game is started.” + +Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte +in front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme +caution was demanded. The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and +rocks. + +When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the +party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down. + +“The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse.” + +Haunte turned back. “Then you are a doomed man.” + +Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, +imagined that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural +being, who was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled +violently, yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in +great drops. The waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that +space it kept coming and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the +point of departing; the next it almost took shape—which he knew would be +his death. Suddenly it vanished altogether—he was free. A fresh spring +breeze fanned his face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet +bird; and it seemed to him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. +Such flashing, heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all +his life! Almost immediately that too vanished. + +Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like +one who has been visited by an angel. + +“Your colour changed to white,” said Corpang. “What happened?” + +“I passed through torture to love,” replied Maskull simply. + +He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. “Will you not describe that +passage?” + +Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. “When I was in Matterplay, I +saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living +animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to +consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy +would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is +not accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through +my brain.... You men of Lichstorm don’t go far enough. You stop at the +pangs, without realising that they are birth pangs.” + +“If this is true, you are a great pioneer,” muttered Haunte. + +“How does this sensation differ from common love?” interrogated Corpang. + +“This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.” + +Corpang fingered his chin awhile. “The Lichstorm men, however, will +never reach this stage, for they are too masculine.” + +Haunte turned pale. “Why should we alone suffer?” + +“Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn’t act according to justice.... +Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all.” + +“I’ll see,” muttered Haunte. “Perhaps I will.” + +“Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?” inquired Maskull. + +“No, her home’s under the hanging cap of Sarclash.” + +“What is to happen tonight?” Maskull spoke to himself, but Haunte +answered him. + +“Don’t expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just occurred. She +is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will draw her out +into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were permanent, +you would have endowed her with a soul.” + +“Perhaps the change might be made permanent.” + +“To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as +well. But why should she desire you?” + +“Nothing turns out as one expects,” said Maskull, shaking his head. “We +had better get on again.” + +They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner +of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which +mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use +both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the +overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. + +The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and +bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. + +“This must be under the cap,” said Maskull. + +“It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode.” + +When he spoke his words, Maskull’s lips surprised him by their tender +sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills throughout +his body. + +The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into +sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but no +leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful +light—a mingling of jale and white—gleamed softly through the darkness. +She sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in a singular +skin garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one shoulder, and +ended as loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her forearms were +lightly folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten fruit. + +Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he +had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting +in its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked +scarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In +their richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a +background of slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour +could not be distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked +into her garment behind, for convenience. + +Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly +agitated. Maskull’s heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte +pulled him, and said, “My head feels as if it were being torn from my +shoulders.” + +“What can that mean?” + +“Yet there’s a horrible joy in it,” added Haunte, with a sickly smile. + +He put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced up at +them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not imagine +that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped on +his knees, and kissed her lips. + +She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull +noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged +from their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The +smile faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her +feet, and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn. +Maskull came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but +nothing indicated what she thought. + +Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She +suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, he +fell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in contact with +an electric wire. The back of his head struck the ground, and he lay +there motionless. + +Corpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had +happened, he left him where he was. + +“Maskull, come here quickly!” + +The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte’s skin, as Maskull bent +over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had been +split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with strange- +coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from an axe. + +“This couldn’t be from the fall,” said Maskull. + +“No, Sullenbode did it.” + +Maskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her former +attitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had vanished from her +face, and she was again smiling. + + + +Chapter 19. SULLENBODE + +Sullenbode’s naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the +clothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her senseless, +smiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through his body. + +Corpang spoke out of the night. “She looks like an evil spirit filled +with deadliness.” + +“It was like deliberately kissing lightning.” + +“Haunte was insane with passion.” + +“So am I,” said Maskull quietly. “My body seems full of rocks, all +grinding against one another.” + +“This is what I was afraid of.” + +“It appears I shall have to kiss her too.” + +Corpang pulled his arm. “Have you lost all manliness?” + +But Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at his +beard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After this had +gone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the woman, and +lifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright against the rugged +tree trunk, he kissed her. + +A cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it was +death, and lost consciousness. + +When his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder with +one hand at arm’s length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. At first +he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but +another. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with +that which Haunte’s action had called into existence. A great calmness +came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. + +Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her +features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power. +She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her +face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth +crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous +as before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her—she +looked the kingliest of all women. She appeared not more than twenty- +five. + +Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way +and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a +long, bowlike smile. “Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?” + +Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream. + +“My name is Maskull.” + +She motioned to him to come a step nearer. “Listen, Maskull. Man after +man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, for I +did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for +good or evil.” + +Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said +quietly, “What have you to say about him?” + +“Who was it?” + +“Haunte.” + +“So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a famous +man.” + +“It’s a horrible affair. I can’t think that you killed him +deliberately.” + +“We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only +protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.” + +“I might have died, too.” + +“You came together?” + +“There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.” + +“I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?” + +“Nothing.” + +“Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.” + +“No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.” + +“This is not that pleasure, then?” demanded the low, earnest voice, out +of the darkness. + +“No, that pleasure has not returned.” + +Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. “What pleasure are you speaking of?” + +“A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.” + +“But what do you feel now?” + +“Calm and free.” + +Sullenbode’s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling sea +of elemental passions. “I do not know how it will end, Maskull, but we +will still keep together a little. Where are you going?” + +“To Adage,” said Corpang, stepping forward. + +“But why?” + +“We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to find +Muspel-light.” + +“What light is that?” + +“It’s the light of another world.” + +“The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?” + +“On one condition,” said Corpang. “They must forget their sex. Womanhood +and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.” + +“I give you all other men,” said Sullenbode. “Maskull is mine.” + +“No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of the +existence of nobler things.” + +“You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to +Adage.” + +“Are you acquainted with it?” + +Again the woman gripped Maskull’s arm. “What is love—which Corpang +despises?” + +Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, “Love is that +which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake +of the beloved.” + +Corpang wrinkled his forehead. “A magnanimous female lover is new in my +experience.” + +Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, “Are you +contemplating a sacrifice?” + +She gazed at her feet, and smiled. “What does it matter what my thoughts +are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest first? +It’s a rough road to Adage.” + +“What’s in your mind?” demanded Maskull. + +“I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash and +Adage, perhaps I shall turn back.” + +“And then?” + +“Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, but if +it is dark it’s hardly likely.” + +“That’s not what I meant. What will become of you after we have parted +company?” + +“I shall return somewhere—perhaps here.” + +Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. “Shall +you sink back into—the old state?” + +“No, Maskull, thank heaven.” + +“Then how will you live?” + +Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There +was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. “And who said I would go on +living?” + +Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he +spoke again. “You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can’t leave +you like this.” + +Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed. + +“You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us go.... +Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others—who aren’t +so single-minded—can do is to help him to his destination. We mustn’t +inquire whether the destination of single-minded men is as a rule worth +arriving at.” + +“If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.” + +“Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.” + +Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have +picked up wisdom.” + +“Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.” + +As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte. + +“Can we not bury that poor fellow?” + +“By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not +include Corpang.” + +“We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I am +the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.” + +“Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” They left +the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three men had +arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the same +time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, +pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies +shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but +Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. +They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and +fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an +alluring girl and a half-infatuated man. + +For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, +maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a +false step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right. +After a while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground, +and they seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The +ascending slope on the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards +more. Then Sullenbode bore sharply to the left, and they found level +ground all around them. + +“We are on the ridge,” announced the woman, halting. + +The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst +through the clouds, illuminating the whole scene. + +Maskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view was +quite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, shining +down on them from behind. Straight in front, like an enormously wide, +smoothly descending road, lay the great ridge which went on to Adage, +though Adage itself was out of sight. It was never less than two hundred +yards wide. It was covered with green snow, in some places entirely, but +in other places the naked rocks showed through like black teeth. From +where they stood they were unable to see the sides of the ridge, or what +lay underneath. On the right hand, which was north, the landscape was +blurred and indistinct. There were no peaks there; it was the distant, +low-lying land of Barey. But on the left hand appeared a whole forest of +mighty pinnacles, near and far, as far as the eye could see in +moonlight. All glittered green, and all possessed the extraordinary +hanging caps that characterised the Lichstorm range. These caps were of +fantastic shapes, and each one was different. The valley directly +opposite them was filled with rolling mist. + +Sarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two +ends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile or more +of empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which they stood. +The southern end was the long line of cliffs on that part of the +mountain where Haunte’s cave was situated. The connecting curve was the +steep slope they had just traversed. One peak of Sarclash was invisible. + +In the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a few +summits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared over the +south side of the horseshoe. + +Maskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw +her for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on his +lips. The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, and the +face, pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly became almost +beautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of rose-red. Her hair +was a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly disturbed; he thought that she +resembled a spirit, rather than a woman. + +“What puzzles you?” she asked, smiling. + +“Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight.” + +“Perhaps you never will.” + +“Your life must be most solitary.” + +She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. “Why do +you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?” + +“Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means I +can’t say.” + +Sullenbode laughed outright. “It assuredly does not mean the approach of +night.” + +Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly +broke in. “The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I’ll go on +alone.” + +“No, we’ll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us.” + +“A little way,” said the woman, “but not to Adage, to pit my strength +against unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know how to renounce +love, but I will never be a traitor to it.” + +“Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang is +as ignorant as myself.” + +Corpang looked him full in the face. “Maskull, you are quite well aware +that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a +beautiful woman.” + +Maskull gave an uneasy laugh. “What Corpang doesn’t tell you, +Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than +he, and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying +his prayers in Threal.” + +“Still, what he says must be true,” she replied, looking from one to the +other. + +“And so I am not to be allowed to—” + +“So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not backward, +Maskull.” + +“We need not quarrel yet,” he remarked, with a forced smile. “No doubt +things will straighten themselves out.” + +Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. “I picked up +another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.” + +“Tell it to me, then.” + +“Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their +strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but +the law-abiders live at their ease—they have conquered nothing for +themselves.” + +“It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and perfect. +You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.” + +“No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.” + +They started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three were +abreast, Sullenbode in the middle. + +The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance +comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth, +for the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm +to their naked feet. Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides. The +moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows +were sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked on +Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the +galaxy of glorious distant peaks. + +“You cannot belong to this world,” said the woman. “Men of your stamp +are not to be looked for here.” + +“No, I have come here from Earth.” + +“Is that larger than our world?” + +“Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With all +those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and therefore +the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without +encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure +among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.” + +“Do men hate women there, and women men?” + +“No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant is +the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes. +There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.” + +“That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. But +now say—why did you come here?” + +“To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer +interested me.” + +“How long have you been in this world?” + +“This is the end of my fourth day.” + +“Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. You +cannot have been inactive.” + +“Great misfortunes have happened to me.” + +He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from the +moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode +listened, with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. +Only twice did she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin’s +death, she said, speaking in a low voice—“None of us women ought by +right of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act +of hers, I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.” +Again, speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, “That grand-souled girl I +admire the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing +else besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?” + +When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, “Does it not strike you, +Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the +men?” + +“I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a +substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love +the sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally +noble.” + +Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet, +that he was struck into silence. + +They tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, “Now you +understand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, scant +pity for anyone—Oh, it has been a bloody journey!” + +She laid her hand on his arm. “I, for one, would not have it less +rugged.” + +“Nothing good can be said of my crimes.” + +“To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not what.... +The grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause to look up +to women.” + +“Thanks, Sullenbode!” he responded, with a troubled smile. + +“When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of your +road. You go on, looking neither to right nor left.” + +“Take care that you are not thrown as well,” said Corpang gravely. + +“Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for +whatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have a +bag of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have had it +described to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, selfish +joy. It is not that—it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, and +bloody.... How should you know.” + +“Selfishness has far too many disguises.” + +“If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?” + +“Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too swift +for you both.” + +Sullenbode studied him through her lashes. “Do you mean death—his death +as well as mine?” + +“You go too far, Corpang,” said Maskull, turning a shade darker. “I +don’t accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes.” + +“If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead.” + +The woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. “I wish you to stay +with us.” + +“Why?” + +“I think you may know what you are talking about. I don’t wish to bring +harm to Maskull. Presently I’ll leave you.” + +“That will be best,” said Corpang. + +Maskull looked angry. “I shall decide—Sullenbode, whether you go on, or +back, I stay with you. My mind is made up.” + +An expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her efforts +to conceal it. “Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?” + +He returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered brows. +After a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. “Wait, Sullenbode!” + +The others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the woman +smiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her lips. Then he +relinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang. + +“How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?” + +“It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull.” + +“Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to me.” + +“Then I say no more; but you are a fated man.” + +From that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the +others. + +A heavy gleam appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Now things are changed, +Maskull. Where are you taking me?” + +“Choose, you.” + +“The man I love must complete his journey. I won’t have it otherwise. +You shall not stand lower than Corpang.” + +“Where you go, I will go.” + +“And I—as long as your love endures, I will accompany you—even to +Adage.” + +“Do you doubt its lasting?” + +“I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you +before. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love me +no longer, I must die.” + +“And why?” asked Maskull slowly. + +“Yes, that’s the responsibility you incurred when you kissed me for the +first time. I never meant to tell you.” + +“Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?” + +“I have no other life but what you give me.” + +He gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then slowly +placed his arms around her body. During this embrace he turned very +pale, but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk. + +A few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed. + +They had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky and +nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the +character of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow +disappeared, and gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little +grassy hillocks and marshes. They began to slip about and become +draggled with mud. Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and the +men followed in her tracks. The southern half of the landscape grew +grander. The greenish light of the brilliant moon, shining on the +multitude of snow-green peaks, caused it to appear like a spectral +world. Their nearest neighbour towered high above them on the other side +of the valley, due south, some five miles distant. It was a slender, +inaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, the angles of which were too +steep to retain snow. A great upward-curving horn of rock sprang out +from its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it constituted their cheif +landmark. + +The whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The surface +soil was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed in the damp +mists by night, and breathed them out again by day, under Branchspell’s +rays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then difficult, and finally +dangerous. None of the party could distinguish firm ground from bog. +Sullenbode sank up to her waist in a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her, +but after this incident took the lead himself. Corpang was the next to +meet with trouble. Exploring a new path for himself, he tumbled into +liquid mud up to his shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death. +After Maskull had got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded +once more; but now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had +to be thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the +test frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end +they no longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered +from top to toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. He +not only had the exhausting task of beating the way, but was continually +called upon to help his companions out of their difficulties. Without +him they could not have got through. + +After a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength. +Corpang’s breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, and +depressed. + +Maskull gazed at them doubtfully. “Does this continue?” he inquired. + +“No. I think,” replied the woman, “we can’t be far from the Mornstab +Pass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then the road will +improve perhaps.” + +“Can you have been here before?” + +“Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then.” + +“You are tired out, Sullenbode.” + +“What of it?” she replied, smiling faintly. “When one has a terrible +lover, one must pay the price.” + +“We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we +come to.” + +“I leave it to you.” + +He paced up and down, while the others sat. “Do you regret anything?” he +demanded suddenly. + +“No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.” + +“Your feelings are unchanged?” + +“Love can’t go back—it can only go on.” + +“Yes, eternally on. It is so.” + +“No, I don’t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax has been +reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.” + +“That’s a dreadful creed,” he said in a low voice, turning pale beneath +his coating of mud. + +“Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don’t know what I +feel.” + +In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey +recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass. + +The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain +off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge +of the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was +nothing but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was +the lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces +of earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with +stunted vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands +that way, but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to east +and west, the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. +A low haze concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air, +broken only by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall. + +Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country. +The moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an +Earth day. + +“Tonight is like life,” said Sullenbode. + +“How so?” + +“So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.” + +Maskull sighed. “Poor girl, you are unhappy.” + +“And you—are you happy?” + +He thought a while, and then replied—“No. No, I’m not happy. Love is not +happiness.” + +“What is it, Maskull?” + +“Restlessness—unshed tears—thoughts too grand for our soul to think...” + +“Yes,” said Sullenbode. + +After a time she asked, “Why were we created, just to live for a few +years and then disappear?” + +“We are told that we shall live again.” + +“Yes, Maskull?” + +“Perhaps in Muspel,” he added thoughtfully. + +“What kind of life will that be?” + +“Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a +thing to remain uncompleted.” + +She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. “This dream is +untrue. Love is completed here.” + +“How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by +Fate?” + +“It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment for +us? Can’t we suffer—can’t we go on suffering, forever and ever? Maskull, +until love crushes our spirit, finally and without remedy, we don’t +begin to feel ourselves.” + +Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. “Can the memory of love +be worth more than its presence and reality?” + +“You don’t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all the rest +beside.” She caught at him. “Oh, if you could only see inside my mind, +Maskull! You would see strange things.... I can’t explain. It is all +confused, even to myself.... This love is quite different from what I +thought.” + +He sighed again. “Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong for +human beings. And I think that it overturns our reason in different +ways.” + +They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with +unseeing eyes. + +“It doesn’t matter,” said Sullenbode at last, with a smile, getting up. +“Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, let us be off!” + +Maskull too got up. + +“Where’s Corpang?” he asked listlessly. + +They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the +point where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly +toward the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy +list. Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards, +but then a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from +side to side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out +all further view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to +the other, was crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining +brightly in the moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were +about thirty in all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that +there was little doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some +were perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme +antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing +the hill, not far from the top. + +“He wishes to arrive,” said Maskull, watching the energetic ascent with +a rather cynical smile. + +“The heavens won’t open for Corpang,” returned Sullenbode. “He need not +be in such a hurry.... What do these pillars seem like to you?” + +“They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have planted +them there?” + +She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill, +and disappear through the line of posts. + +Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. “Now we two are alone in a lonely +world.” + +She regarded him steadily. “Our last night on this earth must be a grand +one. I am ready to go on.” + +“I don’t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go down the +pass a little, and find shelter.” + +She half smiled. “We won’t study our poor bodies tonight. I mean you to +go to Adage, Maskull.” + +“Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, terrible +climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?” + +She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to +him. “Come, Maskull!” + +***** + +When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the +foot of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the +hill, and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode, +but she appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind +and above the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began +to be illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter +faded; the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the +light of Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid, +peculiar, and awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing—it was +supernatural and indescribable. Maskull’s spirit swelled. He stood fast, +with expanded nostrils and terrible eyes. + +Sullenbode touched him lightly. + +“What do you see, Maskull?” + +“Muspel-light.” + +“I see nothing.” + +The light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It burned +with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot the +existence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. Each beat +was like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the sky and making +the air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and one continuous +roar of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm persisted—the four +beats, with the third accented, still came pulsing through the +atmosphere, only now against a background of thunder, and not of +silence. + +Maskull’s heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed to +throw it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the sublime +universe which was beginning to unveil itself. + +Sullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed +him—passionately, again and again. He made no response; he was unaware +of what she was doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and +streaming eyes, went noiselessly away. She started to go back toward the +Mornstab Pass. + +A few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died +down. The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside were +again bright. In a short time the supernatural light had entirely +vanished, but the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled rhythm, +from behind the hill. Maskull started violently, and stared around him +like a suddenly awakened sleeper. + +He saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards off. +At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, calling +out.... She did not look around. When he had lessened the distance +between them by a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and fall. She did +not get up again, but lay motionless where she fell. + +He flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were +realised. Life had departed. + +Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman +grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful +to him as at that moment. + +***** + +He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept—but, +between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and +listened to the distant drum beats. + +An hour passed—two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. Maskull +lifted Sullenbode’s dead body on to his shoulders, and started to walk +toward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He intended to look for +water in which to wash the corpse of his beloved, and earth in which to +bury her. + +When he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which they +had sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead girl on +the stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over toward +Barey. + +After that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass. + + + +Chapter 20. BAREY + +The day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull +awoke from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The air was +cool and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was singing; the song +consisted of only two notes, but it was so plaintive and heartbreaking +that he scarcely knew how to endure it. + +The eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band of +chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was blue- +tinted, mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was visible. + +The saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had descended +that distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, like a huge +flying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay perhaps +fifteen hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was rough, and the +angle was excessively steep, though not precipitous. It was above a mile +across. On each side of it, east and west, the dark walls of the ridge +descended sheer. At the point where the pass sprang outward they were +two thousand feet from top to bottom, but as the ridge went upward, on +the one hand toward Adage, on the other toward Sarclash, they attained +almost unbelievable heights. Despite the great breadth and solidity of +the pass, Maskull felt as though he were suspended in midair. + +The patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked +Sullenbode’s grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, with a +long, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white steam of a +hot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where he sat he was +unable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately flowed, but it +was in that pool that he had last night washed first of all the dead +girl’s body, and then his own. + +He got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him dully. +For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed by +imperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. The sky +was nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the mighty ridge +behind him began to emerge from the morning mist... there was a part of +Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic Adage itself, which he +could only take in by throwing his head right back. + +He gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his +desires were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do nothing. +He thought he would go to Barey. + +He went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting +beside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag. + +Maskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin +shirt and breeches. His face was stern, yellow, and ugly. He eyed +Maskull without smiling or getting up. + +“Where in the devil’s name have you come from, Krag?” + +“The great point is, I am here.” + +“Where’s Nightspore?” + +“Not far away.” + +“It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me in +such a damnable fashion?” + +“You were strong enough to get through alone.” + +“So it turned out, but how were you to know?.... Anyway, you’ve timed it +well. It seems I am to die today.” + +Krag scowled. “You will die this morning.” + +“If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?” + +“You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is there +to live for?” + +“Nothing,” said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. “I am quite ready. I +have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... So now +you’ve come to rejoin me. Where are we going?” + +“Through Barey.” + +“And what about Nightspore?” + +Krag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. “We won’t wait for him. +He’ll be there as soon as we shall.” + +“Where?” + +“At our destination.... Come! The sun’s rising.” + +***** + +As they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, huge +and white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of the dawn +vanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some trees and +plants, the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in sleep. + +Maskull pointed them out to his companion. + +“How is it the sunshine doesn’t open them?” + +“Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain.” + +“How long will it be before that sun rises?” + +“Some time yet.” + +“Shall I live to see it, do you think?” + +“Do you want to?” + +“At one time I did, but now I’m indifferent.” + +“Keep in that humour, and you’ll do well. Once for all, there’s nothing +worth seeing on Tormance.” + +After a few minutes Maskull said, “Why did we come here, then?” + +“To follow Surtur.” + +“True. But where is he?” + +“Closer at hand than you think, perhaps.” + +“Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is +supernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow +connected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what is +Surtur?” + +“Don’t disturb yourself about that. You will never know.” + +“Do you know?” + +“I know,” snarled Krag. + +“The devil here is called Krag,” went on Maskull, peering into his face. + +“As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil.” + +“Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I to +believe of you?” + +“Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman.” + +They continued descending the landslip. The sun’s rays had grown +insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, +Maskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were +travelling toward a lake district. + +“What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days, +Krag? What happened to the torpedo?” + +“You’re just about on the same mental level as a man who sees a brand- +new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding.” + +“What palace have you been building, then?” + +“We have not been idle,” said Krag. “While you have been murdering and +lovemaking, we have had our work.” + +“And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?” + +“Oh, you’re an open book. Now you’ve got a mortal heart wound on account +of a woman you knew for six hours.” + +Maskull turned pale. “Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman for +six hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your leather +heart. You haven’t even the feelings of an insect.” + +“Behold the child defending its toys!” said Krag, grinning faintly. + +Maskull stopped short. “What do you want with me, and why did you bring +me here?” + +“It’s no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect,” said +Krag, pulling him into motion again. “The distance has got to be +covered, however often we pull up.” + +When he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through his +heart. + +“I can’t go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You’re something more than +a man—whether good or evil, I can’t say.” + +Krag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull’s remark, +but after a pause said, “So you’ve been trying to find Surtur on your +own account, during the intervals between killing and fondling?” + +“What was that drumming?” demanded Maskull. + +“You needn’t look so important. We know you had your ear to the keyhole. +But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing for you, my +friend.” + +Maskull smiled rather bitterly. “At all events, I listen through no more +keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing any +more, from this time forward.” + +“Brave words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will make +one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more.” + +“Now I don’t understand you.” + +“You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don’t you? Well, that may +prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all.” + +The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour +later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was +approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it +would clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive, +saucer-shaped ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was +glowing with bright morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands +of feet higher still, guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In +front of them, starting from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting +wilderness of little lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark +green; the forests were asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain. + +“Are we now in Barey?” asked Maskull. + +“Yes—and there is one of the natives.” + +There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull +did not see it. + +A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees, +apparently waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and +beardless, and was still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark +blue, loosely flowing robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His +face, which was not disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest, +and grave, yet somehow remarkably pleasing. + +Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull’s hand, but even +while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The +latter responded with a scowling grin. + +When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone, +but it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and +variety of tone. + +“I’ve been waiting for you here since sunrise,” he said. “Welcome to +Barey, Maskull! Let’s hope you’ll forget your sorrows here, you over- +tested man.” + +Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. “What made you expect +me, and how do you know my name?” + +The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. “I’m Gangnet. I +know most things.” + +“Haven’t you a greeting for me too—Gangnet?” asked Krag, thrusting his +forbidding features almost into the other’s face. + +“I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome.” + +“And I know you, Gangnet—you man-woman.... Well, we are here together, +and you must make what you can of it. We are going down to the Ocean.” + +The smile faded from Gangnet’s face. “I can’t drive you away, Krag—but I +can make you the unwelcome third.” + +Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. “That bargain +suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have the +shadow, and much good may it do you.” + +“Now that it’s all arranged so satisfactorily,” said Maskull, with a +hard smile, “permit me to say that I don’t desire any society at all at +present.... You take too much for granted, Krag. You have played the +false friend once already.... I presume I’m a free agent?” + +“To be a free man, one must have a universe of one’s own,” said Krag, +with a jeering look. “What do you say, Gangnet—is this a free world?” + +“Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man’s privilege,” +returned Gangnet tranquilly. “Maskull is quite within his rights, and if +you’ll engage to leave him I’ll do the same.” + +“Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won’t get rid of +me so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull.” + +“It doesn’t matter,” muttered Maskull. “Let everyone join in the +procession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, anyhow, if what they +say is true.” + +“I’ll lead the way,” said Gangnet. “You don’t know this country, of +course, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some miles farther down, +we shall be able to travel by water, but at present we must walk, I +fear.” + +“Yes, you fear—you fear!” broke out Krag, in a highpitched, scraping +voice. “You eternal loller!” + +Maskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There seemed to +be a determined hostility between the two, which indicated an intimate +previous acquaintance. + +They set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for a +mile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that flowed +beside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured leaves were +all folded. There was no underbrush—they walked on clean, brown earth, A +distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, but the air was +pleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate them. The bright lake +outside looked cool and poetic. + +Gangnet pressed Maskull’s arm affectionately. “If the bringing of you +from your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would have +brought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have escaped +the dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to you.” + +“And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the +same.” + +“You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference whether +one sees darkness through the light, or brightness through the shadows.” + +“A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly +prefer to know it as it really is.” + +“The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman’s +thoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and +Pleasantness. Even Krag won’t have the effrontery to deny that.” + +“It’s very nice here,” said Krag, looking around him malignantly. “One +only wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to complete it.” + +Maskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. “Last night, when I was +struggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight—then I thought the +world beautiful.” + +“Poor Sullenbode!” said Gangnet, sighing. + +“What! You knew her?” + +“I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show your +own nobility. I think all women are noble.” + +“There may be millions of noble women, but there’s only one Sullenbode.” + +“If Sullenbode can exist,” said Gangnet, “the world cannot be a bad +place.” + +“Change the subject.... The world’s hard and cruel, and I am thankful to +be leaving it.” + +“On one point, though, you both agree,” said Krag, smiling evilly. +“Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad.” + +Gangnet glanced at him coldly. “We know your peculiar theories, Krag. +You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could not +go on being, without pleasure.” + +“So Gangnet thinks!” jeered Krag. + +They came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a +little cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh series +of lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big mountain +slope, built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose border they +had been travelling was not banked at the end, but overflowed to the +lower level in half a dozen beautiful, threadlike falls, white and +throwing off spray. The cliff was not perpendicular, and the men found +it easy to negotiate. + +At the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and they +had nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled through the +heart of it; they followed its bank. + +“It has occurred to me,” said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, “that Alppain +may be my death. Is that so?” + +“These trees don’t fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is a +wonderful, life-bringing sun.” + +“The reason I ask is—I’ve seen its afterglow, and it produced such +violent sensations that a very little more would have proved too much.” + +“Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain itself, +it will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling of wills +inside you.” + +“And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull,” said Krag, grinning, “is +Crystalman’s trump card.” + +“How do you mean?” + +“You’ll see. You’ll renounce the world so eagerly that you’ll want to +stay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations.” + +Gangnet smiled. “Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither +enjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?” + +Maskull turned toward Krag. “It’s very odd, but I don’t understand your +creed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?” + +Krag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. “What, +because they have left off stroking you?” he exclaimed, laughing and +showing his discoloured teeth. + +“Whoever you are, and whatever you want,” said Maskull, “you seem very +certain of yourself.” + +“Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn’t you! +That would be an excellent way of destroying lies.” + +Gangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and +picked up two or three objects that resembled eggs. + +“To eat?” asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift. + +“Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one mustn’t +insult Krag by offering him a pleasure—especially such a low pleasure.” + +Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid +contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the remaining egg +out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and +stuck, a splash of slime. + +“I don’t wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a filthier sight +than a smashed pleasure?” + +Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull’s arm. + +After they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs +and slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep +mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles, +during which space the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet, +at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this +immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous +forest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they +had hitherto passed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in +sleep, but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the fact +that they were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been +completely intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with +light, and this light, being tinged with the colour of the branches, was +a soft and lovely rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the +illumination, that Maskull’s spirits immediately started to rise, +although he did not wish it. + +He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive. + +“What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!” rasped +Krag mockingly. “Why isn’t Sullenbode here?” + +Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag +recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit +discomposed. + +“Still what I said—was it true or untrue?” + +Maskull gazed at him sternly. “You seem to regard yourself as a +necessary evil. I’m under no obligation to go on with you any farther. I +think we had better part.” + +Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness. + +“What do you say—do we part when Maskull pleases, or when I please?” + +“Keep your temper, Maskull,” said Gangnet, showing Krag his back. “I +know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened onto you +there’s only one way of making him lose his hold, by ignoring him. +Despise him—say nothing to him, don’t answer his questions. If you +refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not here.” + +“I’m beginning to be tired of it all,” said Maskull. “It seems as if I +shall add one more to my murders, before I have finished.” + +“I smell murder in the air,” exclaimed Krag, pretending to sniff. “But +whose?” + +“Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on fire.” + +“I’ll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this accursed +forest?” + +“It’s some way yet, but when we’re once out we can take to the water, +and you will be able to rest, and think.” + +“And brood comfortably over your sufferings,” added Krag. + +None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the +open day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to +run, rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation, +even if they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an +hour they were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of +them as far as they could see. + +Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a +succession of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of tree- +covered land. The lake immediately before them had its small end to the +forest. It was there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the +sides and end was shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but in +the middle, beginning a few yards from the shore, there was a +perceptible current away from them. In view of this current, it was +difficult to decide whether it was a lake or a river. Some little +floating islands were in the shallows. + +“Is it here that we take to the water?” inquired Maskull. + +“Yes, here,” answered Gangnet. + +“But how?” + +“One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the +stream.” + +Maskull frowned. “Where will it carry us to?” + +“Come, get on, get on!” said Krag, laughing uncouthly. “The morning’s +wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are going to the +Ocean.” + +“If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?” + +“Gangnet will murder you.” + +“You lie!” said Gangnet. “I wish Maskull nothing but good.” + +“At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it +matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well, +Gangnet, I see you’re as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the work.” + +He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, +splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was up +to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet +from end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there +was no form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it, +and started shoving it toward the current, apparently without having +unduly to exert himself. When it was within the influence of the stream +the others waded out to him, and all three climbed on. + +The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles +an hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there was +no shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and +periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches +next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an +animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of +the stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to +be floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary. + +Krag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet’s hat, crushing it +together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream. + +“Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?” he asked with a harsh +guffaw—“Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it somewhere.” + +Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His +dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and noble, +and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was +strangely appealing to the feelings. + +“Let Maskull judge,” he said with proud composure, “whether I have +anything to be ashamed of.” + +“There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head,” muttered +Maskull, staring hard at him. + +“A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens +when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?” + +“What enterprises?” asked Maskull, in astonishment. + +“What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull.” + +“There are two forms of practical activity,” replied Gangnet calmly. +“One may either build up, or destroy.” + +“No, there’s a third species. One may steal—and not even know one is +stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money.” + +Maskull raised his eyebrows. “Where have you two met before?” + +“I’m paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull, but once upon a time Gangnet +paid me a visit.” + +“Where?” + +“In my home—whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief.” + +“You are speaking in riddles, and I don’t understand you. I don’t know +either of you, but it’s clear that if Gangnet is a poet, you’re a +buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet.” + +Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length, +with his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep, and +snoring disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow, +repulsive face with strong disfavour. + +Two hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile distant. +In front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, the Lichstorm +Mountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had gathered +together. The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to be of a +strange colour. It was an intense jale-blue. The whole northern +atmosphere was stained with ulfire. + +Maskull’s mind grew disturbed. “Alppain is rising, Gangnet.” + +Gangnet smiled wistfully. “It begins to trouble you?” + +“It is so solemn—tragical, almost—yet it recalls me to Earth. Life was +no longer important—but this is important.” + +“Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you will +be like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open day. Then +you will ask yourself how you could have been blind.” + +The two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in the +north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary +colours, among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the principal +character of an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding character of +this dawn was wildness. It did not baffle the understanding, but the +heart. Maskull felt no inarticulate craving to seize and perpetuate the +sunrise, and make it his own. Instead of that, it agitated and tormented +him, like the opening bars of a supernatural symphony. + +When he looked back to the south, Branchspell’s day had lost its glare, +and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. He +instinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from darkness to +light. + +“If those were Crystalman’s thoughts that you showed me before, Gangnet, +these must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I am feeling now, +he must have felt before me.” + +“He is all feeling, Maskull—don’t you understand that?” + +Maskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not +reply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the +beginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious +that Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had by +this time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides they +were surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and shut out all +sight of land. Krag was still sleeping—an ugly, wrinkled monstrosity. + +Maskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its dark +green colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency. + +“Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then nothing remains except my death.” + +“Don’t think of death, but life.” + +“It’s growing brighter—at the same time, more sombre. Krag seems to be +fading away....” + +“There is Alppain!” said Gangnet, touching his arm. + +The deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull was +struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. His +emotions were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his body. The +great blue orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an awful eye watching +him.... it shot above the sea with a bound, and Alppain’s day commenced. + +“What do you feel?” Gangnet still held his arm. + +“I have set myself against the Infinite,” muttered Maskull. + +Suddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea +swept through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy. + +“Why, Gangnet—I am nothing.” + +“No, you are nothing.” + +The mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the two +suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast by +Alppain were not black, but were composed of white daylight. + +“Then nothing can hurt me,” said Maskull with a peculiar smile. + +Gangnet smiled too. “How could it?” + +“I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped +away, leaving me clean and free.” + +“Do you now understand life, Maskull?” + +Gangnet’s face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual beauty; +he looked as if he had descended from heaven. + +“I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this is +life.” + +“Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?” said a jeering voice +above them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his feet. + +They both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to obscure +Alppain’s disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale. + +“What do you want with us, Krag?” asked Maskull with simple composure. + +Krag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped around +them. + +“Don’t you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?” + +Maskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his shoulder, +and suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the ground, near the +edge of the island raft. His heart was thumping heavily and queerly; its +beating reminded him of the drum taps. He gazed languidly at the +rippling water, and it seemed to him as if he could see right through +it... away, away down... to a strange fire.... + +The water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island was +transformed into a cloud, and Maskull—alone on it—was floating through +the atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire—the fire of Muspel. The +light mounted higher and higher, until it filled the whole world.... + +He floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, without +top or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was dealing +terrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The rhythmical, +clanging sounds were hideous. + +Presently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum +beats. “What are you doing, Krag?” he asked. + +Krag suspended his work, and turned around. + +“Beating on your heart, Maskull,” was his grinning response. + +***** + +The cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the +air—but it was not Gangnet—it was Crystalman. He seemed to be trying to +escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and licking him, +whichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire caught him. He +shrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a vulgar, slobbering +face—and then that too disappeared. + +***** + +He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by +Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there. + +“What is this Ocean called?” asked Maskull, bringing out the words with +difficulty. + +“Surtur’s Ocean.” + +Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his +arm. “Where’s Nightspore?” he asked suddenly. + +Krag bent over him with a grave expression. “You are Nightspore.” + +The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. + +Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, +“Who are you?” + +Krag maintained a gloomy silence. + +Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull’s heart, and +he died immediately. + +Krag turned his head around. “The night is really past at last, +Nightspore.... The day is here.” + +Nightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull’s body. “Why was all this +necessary?” + +“Ask Crystalman,” replied Krag sternly. “His world is no joke. He has a +strong clutch—but I have a stronger... Maskull was his, but Nightspore +is mine.” + + + +Chapter 21. MUSPEL + +The fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all grew +as black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his companion. The +water lapped gently against the side of the island raft. + +“You say the night is past,” said Nightspore. “But the night is still +here. Am I dead, or alive?” + +“You are still in Crystalman’s world, but you belong to it no more. We +are approaching Muspel.” + +Nightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air—a rhythmical +pulsation, in four-four time. “There is the drumming,” he exclaimed. + +“Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?” + +“I half understand it, but I’m all confused.” + +“It’s evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty deeply,” said +Krag. “The sound comes from Muspel, but the rhythm is caused by its +travelling through Crystalman’s atmosphere. His nature is rhythm as he +loves to call it—or dull, deadly repetition, as I name it.” + +“I remember,” said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark. + +The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A +small patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of +them, began faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea +around it. + +“Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few like +me?” asked Nightspore. + +“If all escaped, I shouldn’t sweat, my friend... There’s hard work, and +anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us yonder.” + +Nightspore’s heart sank. “Have I not yet finished, then?” + +“If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?” + +The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a +tiny oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag’s +grim and rocklike features were revealed. + +“I can’t face rebirth,” said Nightspore. “The horror of death is nothing +to it.” + +“You will choose.” + +“I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with my +own soul.” + +“You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,” said +Krag. + +Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something. +The water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that +they scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull’s +corpse had disappeared. + +The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of +light grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness above, +below, and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the +semblance of a huge, black wall, without bounds. + +“Is that really a wall we are coming to?” + +“You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is the +gate you have to enter.” + +Nightspore’s heart beat wildly. + +“Shall I remember?” he muttered. + +“Yes, you’ll remember.” + +“Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.” + +“There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for you.” + +“You are returning to the struggle?” demanded Nightspore, gnawing his +fingertips. + +“Yes.” + +“I dare not.” + +The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like +actual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer able to +look at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous lightning, +but it possessed this further peculiarity—that it seemed somehow to give +out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. They continued to +approach the wall of darkness, straight toward the door. The glasslike +water flowed right against it, its surface reaching up almost to the +threshold. + +They could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening. + +In a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his +back and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded by +the light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed to +enlarge itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently. + +The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and +pulled Nightspore after him. + +Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound—blows +totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark and quiet +as an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim, burning passion, +which was to light and sound what light itself is to opaque colour. + +Nightspore pressed his hand to his heart. “I don’t know if I can endure +it,” he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his person far more vividly +and distinctly than if he had been able to see him. + +“Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious than +on earth. We can’t squander the minutes. There are terrible and tragic +affairs to attend to, which won’t wait for us... Go in at once. Stop for +nothing.” + +“Where shall I go to?” muttered Nightspore. “I have forgotten +everything.” + +“Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can’t mistake it.” + +“Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?” + +“To have your wounds healed.” + +Almost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to the +island raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at once +recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was +completely invisible; everything outside was black night. + +The moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore’s heart like a +thousand trumpets. + +***** + +Straight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a +steep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other way +forward. + +He put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft. He +saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was +perceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, and +deserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a ladder +to heaven. + +After he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. Each +step was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he were +carrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar chord in his +mind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a window set in a +high embrasure. + +On to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a sort of +glass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, from the world +outside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his senses, causing his +blood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a low, mocking, vulgar +laugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at the next it was like a +rhythmical vibration of the air—the silent, continuous throbbing of some +mighty engine. The two sensations were identical, yet different. They +seemed to be related in the same manner as soul and body. After feeling +them for a long time, Nightspore got down from the embrasure, and +continued his ascent, having meanwhile grown very serious. + +The climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop at +every third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. When +he had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a second +window. Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of the air, too, +had ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as distinct as +before, and its rhythm had become _double_. There were two separate +pulses; one was in the time of a march, the other in the time of a +waltz. The first was bitter and petrifying to feel, but the second was +gay, enervating, and horrible. + +Nightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was on +the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more important +awaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent grew more and more +exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to sit down, utterly +crushed by his own dead weight. Still, he got to the third window. + +He climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves into +vision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A gigantic, +self-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying nearly the whole +of it. This sphere was composed entirely of two kinds of active beings. +There were a myriad of tiny green corpuscles, varying in size from the +very small to the almost indiscernible. They were not green, but he +somehow saw them so. They were all striving in one direction—toward +himself, toward Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any +headway. Their action produced the marching rhythm he had previously +felt, but this rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves, +but was a consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding +these atoms of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light +that gyrated hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with them +wherever they desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the +waltzing rhythm. It seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were not +only being danced about against their will but were suffering +excruciating shame and degradation in consequence. The larger ones were +steadier than the extremely small, a few were even almost stationary, +and one was advancing in the direction it wished to go. + +He turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and +searched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what he +had just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began to take +possession of him. + +On his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him to +be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but he +never dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did not once +permit himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by the time that +he had clambered into the recess, that for several minutes he could see +nothing at all—the world seemed to be spinning round him rapidly. + +When at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all +was changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants, +animals, and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything was +so magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of life. In +the interior of every individual, of every aggregate of individuals, of +every chemical atom, he clearly perceived the presence of the green +corpuscles. But, according to the degree of dignity of the life form, +they were fragmentary or comparatively large. In the crystal, for +example, the green, imprisoned life was so minute as to be scarcely +visible; in some men it was hardly bigger; but in other men and women it +was twenty or a hundred times greater. But, great or small, it played an +important part in every individual. It appeared as if the whirls of +white light, which were the individuals, and plainly showed themselves +beneath the enveloping bodies, were delighted with existence and wished +only to enjoy it, but the green corpuscles were in a condition of +eternal discontent, yet, blind and not knowing which way to turn for +liberation, kept changing form, as though breaking a new path, by way of +experiment. Whenever the old grotesque became metamorphosed into the new +grotesque, it was in every case the direct work of the green atoms, +trying to escape toward Muspel, but encountering immediate opposition. +These subdivided sparks of living, fiery spirit were hopelessly +imprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft pleasure. They were being +effeminated and corrupted—that is to say, absorbed in the foul, sickly +enveloping forms. + +Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that +spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and +understood why Krag was waiting for him below. + +He mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against him +was as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and irregularity, so +that he was not for an instant suffered to relax his efforts. +Nevertheless, not a breath stirred. + +Looking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The sphere +was still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which he was +standing he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any distinguishable +shape, but somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting sweetness. +Nightspore knew that it was Crystalman. A flood of fierce light—but it +was not light, but passion—was streaming all the time from Muspel to the +Shadow, and through it. When, however, it emerged on the other side, +which was the sphere, the light was altered in character. It became +split, as by a prism, into the two forms of life which he had previously +seen—the green corpuscles and the whirls. What had been fiery spirit but +a moment ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling +individuals, each whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a +fragmentary spark of living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back +rays of Starkness, and it flashed across him with the certainty of truth +that the green sparks were the back rays, and the whirls the forward +rays, of Muspel. The former were trying desperately to return to their +place of origin, but were overpowered by the brute force of the latter, +which wished only to remain where they were. The individual whirls were +jostling and fighting with, and even devouring, each other. This created +pain, but, whatever pain they felt, it was always pleasure that they +sought. Sometimes the green sparks were strong enough for a moment to +move a little way in the direction of Muspel; the whirls would then +accept the movement, not only without demur, but with pride and +pleasure, as if it were their own handiwork—but they never saw beyond +the Shadow, they thought that they were travelling toward it. The +instant the direct movement wearied them, as contrary to their whirling +nature, they fell again to killing, dancing, and loving. + +Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to be +the last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for he +guessed that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become +manifest. Every step upward was like a bloody life-and-death struggle. +The stairs nailed him to the ground; the air pressure caused blood to +gush from his nose and ears; his head clanged like an iron bell. When he +had fought his way up a dozen steps, he found himself suddenly at the +top; the staircase terminated in a small, bare chamber of cold stone, +possessing a single window. On the other side of the apartment another +short flight of stairs mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of +the building. Before ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the +window and stared out. + +The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled +the whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow. +It had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way suggested the +delicate tints of early morning. It was so nebulous that the sphere +could be clearly distinguished through it; in extension, however, it was +thick. The sweet smell emanating from it was strong, loathsome, and +terrible; it seemed to spring from a sort of loose, mocking slime +inexpressibly vulgar and ignorant. + +The spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. It +was not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or the +Many, but something else far beyond either. It approached Crystalman, +and entered his body—if that bright mist could be called a body. It +passed right through him, and the passage caused him the most exquisite +pleasure. _The Muspel-stream was Crystalman’s food_. The stream emerged +from the other side on to the sphere, in a double condition. Part of it +reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but shivered into a million +fragments. These were the green corpuscles. In passing through +Crystalman they had escaped absorption by reason of their extreme +minuteness. The other part of the stream had not escaped. Its fire had +been abstracted, its cement was withdrawn, and, after being fouled and +softened by the horrible sweetness of the host, it broke into +individuals, which were the whirls of living will. + +Nightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of +will was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel +joy. + +Presently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he +remembered vaguely that now only that remained. + +Halfway up, he fainted—but when he recovered consciousness he persisted +as though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head was above the +trap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical sensation as a +man stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and stood expectantly +on the stone-floored roof, looking round for his first glimpse of +Muspel. + +There was nothing. + +He was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen +feet each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the stone +parapet, with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed him. + +Suddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct +impression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was +grinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was wholly +surrounded by Crystalman’s world, and that Muspel consisted of himself +and the stone tower on which he was sitting. + +Fire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque, +vulgar, ridiculous, sweetened individuals—once Spirit—were calling out +from their degradation and agony for salvation from Muspel.... To answer +that cry there was only himself... and Krag waiting below... and +Surtur—But where was Surtur? + +The truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. Muspel +was no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure indifference the +existence side by side with it of another false world, which had no +right to be. Muspel was fighting for its life—against all that is most +shameful and frightful—against sin masquerading as eternal beauty, +against baseness masquerading as Nature, against the Devil masquerading +as God.... + +Now he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no +Valhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night; +but a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death—namely, +spiritual death—inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By what +means could he hold back from this horrible war! + +During those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self—the corruption of +his life on Earth—were scorched out of Nightspore’s soul, perhaps not +for the first time. + +After sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, a +strange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in awful +mystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery that he +could not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was the voice of +Crystalman. + +***** + +Krag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a +stern glance at Nightspore. + +“Have you seen everything?” + +“The struggle is hopeless,” muttered Nightspore. + +“Did I not say I am the stronger?” + +“You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier.” + +“I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman’s Empire is but a shadow +on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the bloodiest +blows.... What do you mean to do?” + +Nightspore looked at him strangely. “Are you not Surtur, Krag?” + +“Yes.” + +“Yes,” said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. “But what is +your name on Earth?” + +“It is pain.” + +“That, too, I must have known.” + +He was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the raft. +Krag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David +Lindsay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS *** + +***** This file should be named 1329-0.txt or 1329-0.zip ***** This and +all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/1329/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be +renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one +owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and +you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission +and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks +in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, including +how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to +our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + diff --git a/old/1329-0.zip b/old/1329-0.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d34cecc Binary files /dev/null and b/old/1329-0.zip differ diff --git a/old/1329-h.zip b/old/1329-h.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91f9f9b Binary files /dev/null and b/old/1329-h.zip differ diff --git a/old/1329-h/1329-h.htm b/old/1329-h/1329-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc55771 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1329-h/1329-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16141 @@ + + + + + + + + + A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay + + + + +
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Voyage to Arcturus
+
+Author: David Lindsay
+
+Release Date: September 17, 2008 [EBook #1329]
+[Last updated: September 22, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

+

+

+

+ A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS. +

+

+
+

+

+ By David Lindsay +

+

+

+

+
+

+

+

+
+

+ CONTENTS +

+

+
+

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE +

+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+
+

+

+

+
+

+

+ +

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE +

+

+ On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a + fast-rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at + Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was + illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with + indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were + exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, + the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric + light was switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, + metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not + seem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from + a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the + merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the + smoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the + pointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view + of the morbid nature of his occupation. +

+

+ “Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the + conversation. “No? Then will you take a drink?” +

+

+ “Not at present, I thank you.” +

+

+ A pause. +

+

+ “Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?” +

+

+ “I see no reason to doubt it.” +

+

+ “That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be + disappointed. I have your check written out in my pocket.” +

+

+ “Afterward will do quite well.” +

+

+ “Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?” +

+

+ “I fancy so.” +

+

+ The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and + remained apathetic. +

+

+ “Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?” +

+

+ “I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.” +

+

+ “I mean the decoration of the séance room, the music, and so forth.” +

+

+ Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical + performance.” +

+

+ “That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be + ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.” +

+

+ “In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the + performance to the end.” +

+

+ He spoke rather dryly. +

+

+ “Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his + cigar into the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. +

+

+ “Will you come and see the room?” +

+

+ “Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time + arrives.” +

+

+ “Then let’s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the + drawing room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as + I am unmarried.” +

+

+ “I will be delighted,” said Backhouse coldly. +

+

+ They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive + attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium took + in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, and + wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely, with + just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at the hands + of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them. +

+

+ “What amazes me,” she half whispered, after ten minutes of + graceful, hollow conversation, “is, if you must know it, not so much + the manifestation itself—though that will surely be wonderful—as + your assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your + confidence.” +

+

+ “I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the + door, “and others see my dreams. That is all.” +

+

+ “But that’s beautiful,” responded Mrs. Jameson. She + smiled rather absently, for the first guest had just entered. +

+

+ It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd judicial + humour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carry into + private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes were + still disconcertingly bright. With the selective skill of an old man, he + immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of many comfortable + chairs. +

+

+ “So we are to see wonders tonight?” +

+

+ “Fresh material for your autobiography,” remarked Faull. +

+

+ “Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old + public servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. + You have no cause for alarm—I have studied in the school of + discretion.” +

+

+ “I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your + publishing whatever you please.” +

+

+ “You are most kind,” said the old man, with a cunning smile. +

+

+ “Trent is not coming tonight,” remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing + a curious little glance at her brother. +

+

+ “I never thought he would. It’s not in his line.” +

+

+ “Mrs. Trent, you must understand,” she went on, addressing the + ex-magistrate, “has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has + decorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has secured + the services of the sweetest little orchestra.” +

+

+ “But this is Roman magnificence.” +

+

+ “Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference,” + laughed Faull. +

+

+ “Surely, Mr. Backhouse—a poetic environment...” +

+

+ “Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to + elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my opinion. + Nature is one thing, and art is another.” +

+

+ “And I am not sure that I don’t agree with you,” said + the ex-magistrate. “An occasion like this ought to be simple, to + guard against the possibility of deception—if you will forgive my + bluntness, Mr. Backhouse.” +

+

+ “We shall sit in full light,” replied Backhouse, “and + every opportunity will be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also + ask you to submit me to a personal examination.” +

+

+ A rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival of two + more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the prosperous City + coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well known in his own circle + as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted with the + latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine and tobacco + smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into the proceedings. + Finding that no one seconded his efforts, however, he shortly subsided and + fell to examining the water colours on the walls. Lang, tall, thin, and + growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse a good deal. +

+

+ Coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone partook, + except Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor Halbart was + announced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author and lecturer on + crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental aspects. + His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other guests, but + all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately acquired + additional solemnity. He was small, meagre-looking, and mild in manner, + but was probably the most stubborn-brained of all that mixed company. + Completely ignoring the medium, he at once sat down beside Kent-Smith, + with whom he began to exchange remarks. +

+

+ At a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered, unannounced. + She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a white, demure, saintlike + face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson and full that they seemed to + be bursting with blood. Her tall, graceful body was most expensively + attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs. Jameson. She bowed to + the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance and a smile at Faull. + The latter gave her a queer look, and Backhouse, who lost nothing, saw the + concealed barbarian in the complacent gleam of his eye. She refused the + refreshment that was offered her, and Faull proposed that, as everyone had + now arrived, they should adjourn to the lounge hall. +

+

+ Mrs. Trent held up a slender palm. “Did you, or did you not, give me + carte blanche, Montague?” +

+

+ “Of course I did,” said Faull, laughing. “But what’s + the matter?” +

+

+ “Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don’t know. I have + invited a couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... The two + most extraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I am sure.” +

+

+ “It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?” +

+

+ “At least tell us their names, you provoking girl,” put in + Mrs. Jameson. +

+

+ “One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of + Nightspore. That’s nearly all that I know about them, so don’t + overwhelm me with any more questions.” +

+

+ “But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up + somewhere.” +

+

+ “But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned against convention? + I swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be here + directly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy.” +

+

+ “I don’t know them,” said Faull, “and nobody else + seems to, but, of course, we will all be very pleased to have them.... + Shall we wait, or what?” +

+

+ “I said nine, and it’s past that now. It’s quite + possible they may not turn up after all.... Anyway, don’t wait.” +

+

+ “I would prefer to start at once,” said Backhouse. +

+

+ The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been divided + for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade curtain drawn + across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half had + been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There was no + other furniture. A large fire was burning halfway along the wall, between + the chairbacks and the door. The room was brilliantly lighted by electric + bracket lamps. A sumptuous carpet covered the floor. +

+

+ Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the curtain + and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury Lane + presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then + exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the + glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against the + latter, the gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A fantastically carved + wooden couch lay before the pedestal of the statue. Near the curtain, + obliquely placed to the auditorium, was a plain oak armchair, for the use + of the medium. +

+

+ Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite + inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of + ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual + compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of so + remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward and + examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and Lang + were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the + pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part + of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest of + his party and commenced a patient, systematic search, on his own account, + for secret apparatus. Faull and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of the + temple, talking together in low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, pretending to + hold Backhouse in conversation, watched them as only a deeply interested + woman knows how to watch. +

+

+ Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a suspicious + nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing should be searched. +

+

+ “All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in + hand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands, + however, that other people who are not present would not be able to say + afterward that trickery has been resorted to.” +

+

+ To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and + sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that nothing + mechanical was in Backhouse’s possession. The guests reseated + themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for Mrs. Trent’s + friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then pressed an electric + bell, and took his own seat. +

+

+ The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur of + surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, the + beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart’s “temple” music + pulsated through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, + beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was + deeply moved. It was evident that aesthetically she was by far the most + important person present. Faull watched her, with his face sunk on his + chest, sprawling as usual. +

+

+ Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began + speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so for as + long as he was on his legs. +

+

+ “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. + That means you will see something appear in space that was not previously + there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but finally it will be + a solid body, which anyone present may feel and handle—and, for + example, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape. It + will be a real man or woman—which, I can’t say—but a man + or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an + explanation of the origin of this materialised form—where it comes + from, whence the atoms and molecules composing its tissues are derived—I + am unable to satisfy you. I am about to produce the phenomenon; if anyone + can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very grateful.... That is all I + have to say.” +

+

+ He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused for + a moment before beginning his task. +

+

+ It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door and + announced in a subdued but distinct voice: “Mr. Maskull, Mr. + Nightspore.” +

+

+ Everyone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals. Backhouse + also stood up, and stared hard at them. +

+

+ The two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed quietly + behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild sensation caused by + their appearance to subside before advancing into the room. Maskull was a + kind of giant, but of broader and more robust physique than most giants. + He wore a full beard. His features were thick and heavy, coarsely + modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes, small and black, + sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity. His hair was short, + black, and bristling. Nightspore was of middle height, but so + tough-looking that he appeared to be trained out of all human frailties + and susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed by an intense + spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both men were + dressed in tweeds. +

+

+ Before any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling masonry + caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in consternation. + It sounded as if the entire upper part of the building had collapsed. + Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to say what was + happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he gathered what was + required of him. He said he had heard nothing. In obedience to his master’s + order, he went upstairs. Nothing, however, was amiss there, neither had + the maids heard anything. +

+

+ In the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had + preserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood gnawing + his nails. +

+

+ “Perhaps you can explain it, sir?” +

+

+ “It was supernatural,” said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled + voice, turning away from his questioner. +

+

+ “I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard + it so loud.” +

+

+ He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled + down, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured + interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness. + Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent kept + stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout the entire incident, Mozart’s + hymn continued to be played. The orchestra also had heard nothing. +

+

+ Backhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be familiar to + him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not possible to effect + the materialisation by mere concentration of will, or the exercise of any + faculty; otherwise many people could have done what he had engaged himself + to do. His nature was phenomenal—the dividing wall between himself + and the spiritual world was broken in many places. Through the gaps in his + mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he summoned them, passed for a + moment timidly and awfully into the solid, coloured universe.... He could + not say how it was brought about.... The experience was a rough one for + the body, and many such struggles would lead to insanity and early death. + That is why Backhouse was stern and abrupt in his manner. The coarse, + clumsy suspicion of some of the witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of + others, were equally obnoxious to his grim, bursting heart; but he was + obliged to live, and, to pay his way, must put up with these + impertinences. +

+

+ He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed to + look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The + spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began + to feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull’s + eyes glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but + Nightspore appeared bored. +

+

+ After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become + slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the + ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and + thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and held + his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his nose. +

+

+ By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline + of an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It + hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse looked + haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair, but she + was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled down upon + the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, + solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the medium himself, + but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once or twice at Mrs. + Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was twisting a little + lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her hand. The music + went on playing. +

+

+ The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The + face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of + shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand fell + over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker spirits + of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest were grave + and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did not + appear like a death succeeding life, but like a death preliminary to life. + All felt that he might sit up at any minute. +

+

+ “Stop that music!” muttered Backhouse, tottering from his + chair and facing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars + sounded, and then total silence ensued. +

+

+ “Anyone who wants to may approach the couch,” said Backhouse + with difficulty. +

+

+ Lang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural youth. +

+

+ “You are at liberty to touch,” said the medium. +

+

+ But Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by one + stole up to the couch—until it came to Faull’s turn. He looked + straight at Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the + spectacle before her, and then not only touched the apparition but + suddenly grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful + squeeze. Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened his + eyes, looked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A cryptic smile + started playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his hand; a feeling of + intense pleasure passed through his body. +

+

+ Maskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another spell + of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the room. Neither + of them returned. +

+

+ The phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his + peculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other men more + or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but Nightspore paced + up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while Maskull attempted to + interrogate the youth. The apparition watched him with a baffling + expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was sitting apart, his face + buried in his hands. +

+

+ It was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a + stranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the room, + and then stopped. None of Faull’s friends had ever seen him before. + He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular development and a + head far too large in proportion to his body. His beardless yellow face + indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of sagacity, brutality, and + humour. +

+

+ “Aha-i, gentlemen!” he called out loudly. His voice was + piercing, and oddly disagreeable to the ear. “So we have a little + visitor here.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder in + astonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought him to the + edge of the theatre. +

+

+ “May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?” + asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding as + smoothly as he had anticipated. +

+

+ The newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great, + roaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully—but the play + was rather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the wall + before he could recover his balance. +

+

+ “Good evening, my host!” +

+

+ “And good evening to you too, my lad!” he went on, addressing + the supernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in + apparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. “I have seen someone + very like you before, I think.” +

+

+ There was no response. +

+

+ The intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom’s face. + “You have no right here, as you know.” +

+

+ The shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, which, + however, no one could understand. +

+

+ “Be careful what you are doing,” said Backhouse quickly. +

+

+ “What’s the matter, spirit usher?” +

+

+ “I don’t know who you are, but if you use physical violence + toward that, as you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove + very unpleasant.” +

+

+ “And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn’t + it, my little mercenary friend?” +

+

+ Humour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, leaving it + hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, he encircled the + soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his hairy hands and, with + a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint, unearthly shriek + sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its face was uppermost. + The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that its expression had + changed from the mysterious but fascinating smile to a vulgar, sordid, + bestial grin, which cast a cold shadow of moral nastiness into every + heart. The transformation was accompanied by a sickening stench of the + graveyard. +

+

+ The features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, passing + from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two minutes had + elapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared. +

+

+ The short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud + laugh, like nothing in nature. +

+

+ The professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull beckoned + Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check without a + word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and walked out + of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a drink. +

+

+ The stranger poked his face up into Maskull’s. +

+

+ “Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn’t you like + to see the land where this sort of fruit grows wild?” +

+

+ “What sort of fruit?” +

+

+ “That specimen goblin.” +

+

+ Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. “Who are you, and how did + you come here?” +

+

+ “Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me.” Nightspore + had moved a chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, + fanatical expression. +

+

+ “Let Krag come to me, if he wants me,” he said, in his strange + voice. +

+

+ “You see, he does know me,” uttered Krag, with a humorous + look. Walking over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. +

+

+ “Still the same old gnawing hunger?” +

+

+ “What is doing these days?” demanded Nightspore disdainfully, + without altering his attitude. +

+

+ “Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him.” +

+

+ “How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you + speaking?” asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in + perplexity. +

+

+ “Krag has something for us. Let us go outside,” replied + Nightspore. He got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following + the direction of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were + watching their little group attentively. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was + slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The + multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll of + hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly excited; he had a sense that + something extraordinary was about to happen. “What brought you to + this house tonight, Krag, and what made you do what you did? How are we + understand that apparition?” +

+

+ “That must have been Crystalman’s expression on its face,” + muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “We have discussed that, haven’t we, Maskull? Maskull is + anxious to behold that rare fruit in its native wilds.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings + toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man’s personality, yet + side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring + up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag. +

+

+ “Why do you insist on this simile?” he asked. +

+

+ “Because it is apropos. Nightspore’s quite right. That was + Crystalman’s face, and we are going to Crystalman’s country.” +

+

+ “And where is this mysterious country?” +

+

+ “Tormance.” +

+

+ “That’s a quaint name. But where is it?” +

+

+ Krag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street lamp. +

+

+ “It is the residential suburb of Arcturus.” +

+

+ “What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of + that name?” he went on, to Krag. +

+

+ “Which you have in front of you at this very minute,” said + Krag, pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the + south-eastern sky. “There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one + inhabited planet.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaming star, and again at Krag. Then he + pulled out a pipe, and began to fill it. +

+

+ “You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag.” +

+

+ “I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days.” +

+

+ “I meant to ask you—how do you know my name?” +

+

+ “It would be odd if I didn’t, seeing that I only came here on + your account. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends.” +

+

+ Maskull paused with his suspended match. “You came here on my + account?” +

+

+ “Surely. On your account and Nightspore’s. We three are to be + fellow travellers.” +

+

+ Maskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments. +

+

+ “I’m sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad.” +

+

+ Krag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. “Am I mad, + Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Has Surtur gone to Tormance?” ejaculated Nightspore in a + strangled voice, fixing his eyes on Krag’s face. +

+

+ “Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once.” +

+

+ Maskull’s heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like + a dream conversation. +

+

+ “And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things + by a total stranger.... Besides, who is this individual?” +

+

+ “Krag’s chief,” said Nightspore, turning his head away. +

+

+ “The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up.” +

+

+ “You are looking for mysteries,” said Krag, “so + naturally you are finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. + The affair is plain and serious.” +

+

+ Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. +

+

+ “Where have you come from now?” demanded Nightspore suddenly. +

+

+ “From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the + famous Starkness Observatory, Maskull?” +

+

+ “No. Where is it?” +

+

+ “On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made + there from time to time.” +

+

+ “As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur + turns out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?” +

+

+ Krag grinned again. “How long will it take you to wind up your + affairs? When can you be ready to start?” +

+

+ “You are too considerate,” said Maskull, laughing outright. + “I was beginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... + However, I have neither wife, land, nor profession, so there’s + nothing to wait for.... What is the itinerary?” +

+

+ “You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no encumbrances.” + Krag’s features became suddenly grave and rigid. “Don’t + be a fool, and refuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not offered a + second time.” +

+

+ “Krag,” replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his + pocket. “I ask you to put yourself in my place. Even if I were a man + sick for adventures, how could I listen seriously to such an insane + proposition as this? What do I know about you, or your past record? You + may be a practical joker, or you may have come out of a madhouse—I + know nothing about it. If you claim to be an exceptional man, and want my + cooperation, you must offer me exceptional proofs.” +

+

+ “And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?” +

+

+ As he spoke he gripped Maskull’s arm. A sharp, chilling pain + immediately passed through the latter’s body and at the same moment + his brain caught fire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of the + sun. He asked himself for the first time if this fantastic conversation + could by any chance refer to real things. +

+

+ “Listen, Krag,” he said slowly, while peculiar images and + conceptions started to travel in rich disorder through his mind. “You + talk about a certain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, + and I were given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come + back. For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my + life. That is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me that you’re + not talking nonsense. Produce your credentials.” +

+

+ Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually + resuming its jesting expression. +

+

+ “Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but + not much longer. You’re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip + will prove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the + unbelievers of old, you want a sign from heaven?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are + overexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep + it off.” +

+

+ Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with + the other. He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens. + The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches. +

+

+ “First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve + as a provisional sign. It’s the best I can do, unfortunately. I am + not a travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It’s + somewhat heavy.” +

+

+ Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and + then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least + twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece. +

+

+ “What stuff can this be, Krag?” +

+

+ “Look through it, my good friend. That’s what I gave it to you + for.” +

+

+ Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming + Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the + muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which to + the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became + clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was + still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But this + was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a + comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed to + shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and + raised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and + again, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens + to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip. +

+

+ “You take a glimpse too,” scraped Krag, proffering the glass + to Nightspore. +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up and down. Krag laughed + sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. “Well, Maskull, + are you satisfied?” +

+

+ “Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet + Tormance?” +

+

+ “Our future home, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull continued to ponder. “You inquire if I am satisfied. I don’t + know, Krag. It’s miraculous, and that’s all I can say about + it.... But I’m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful + astronomers at Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will + surely come.” +

+

+ “I do invite you. We set off from there.” +

+

+ “And you, Nightspore?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “The journey has to be made,” answered his friend in + indistinct tones, “though I don’t see what will come of it.” +

+

+ Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. “More remarkable adventures + than this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore.” +

+

+ “Yet he is coming.” +

+

+ “But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company.” +

+

+ Maskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary might, + in the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart swelled with + grand and painful longings, for which, however, he was unable to account + to his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was in some way bound up + with this gigantic, far-distant sun. But still he did not dare to admit to + himself Krag’s seriousness. +

+

+ He heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the lapse + of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise that they + referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and times of trains. +

+

+ “Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn’t catch + that.” +

+

+ “No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of + the day after tomorrow.” +

+

+ Maskull remained thoughtful. “What am I to think of that man?” +

+

+ “For your information,” replied Nightspore wearily, “I + have never known him to lie.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ A couple of days later, at two o’clock in the afternoon, Maskull and + Nightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven + miles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, ran + for the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty cliffs, + within sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk east wind was + blowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green waves were flecked + with white. Throughout the walk, they were accompanied by the plaintive, + beautiful crying of the gulls. +

+

+ The observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained little + community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end of the land. + There were three buildings: a small, stone-built dwelling house, a low + workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther north, a square tower of + granite masonry, seventy feet in height. +

+

+ The house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with + waste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side facing the + sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the cliff. No one + appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull could have sworn that + the whole establishment was shut up and deserted. +

+

+ He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked + vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had + obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but + could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the + door was looked. +

+

+ They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there was + only the one door. +

+

+ “This isn’t promising,” growled Maskull. “There’s + no one here..... Now you try the shed, while I go over to that tower.” +

+

+ Nightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the train, + complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull passed out + of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the tower, which stood + some way back from the cliff, he found the door heavily padlocked. Gazing + up, he saw six windows, one above the other at equal distances, all on the + east face—that is, overlooking the sea. Realising that no + satisfaction was to be gained here, he came away again, still more + irritated than before. When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore reported + that the workshop was also locked. +

+

+ “Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?” demanded + Maskull energetically. +

+

+ “The house is empty,” replied Nightspore, biting his nails. + “Better break a window.” +

+

+ “I certainly don’t mean to camp out till Krag condescends to + come.” +

+

+ He picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe + distance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The lower + pane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, + Maskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back the frame + fastening. A minute later they had climbed through and were standing + inside the house. +

+

+ The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and + neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken utensils + and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, everything was + covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was so foul that + Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room for several + months. Insects were crawling on the walls. +

+

+ They went into the other rooms on the lower floor—a scullery, a + barely furnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The same + dirt, mustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a year must + have elapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even entered. +

+

+ “Does your faith in Krag still hold?” asked Maskull. “I + confess mine is at vanishing point. If this affair isn’t one big + practical joke, it has every promise of being one. Krag never lived here + in his life.” +

+

+ “Come upstairs first,” said Nightspore. +

+

+ The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. All + the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The beds + had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been made + since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually preserved the + impressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that these impressions + were ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had accumulated on the sheets + and coverlets. +

+

+ “Who could have slept here, do you think?” interrogated + Maskull. “The observatory staff?” +

+

+ “More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly.” +

+

+ Maskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and held his + breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the sea; the third, + the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This library was now the only + room left unvisited, and unless they discovered signs of recent occupation + here Maskull made up his mind to regard the whole business as a gigantic + hoax. +

+

+ But the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air and + dust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell heavily + into an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend. +

+

+ “Now what is your opinion of Krag?” +

+

+ Nightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the window. + “He may still have left a message for us.” +

+

+ “What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?—I see no + message.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger + upon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old bottles on + one of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at him and at the + cupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine the bottles. +

+

+ There were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. The + smaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo-shaped, but + had flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand upright. Two of the + smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the others contained a colourless + liquid, and possessed queer-looking, nozzle-like stoppers that were + connected by a thin metal rod with a catch halfway down the side of the + bottle. They were labelled, but the labels were yellow with age and the + writing was nearly undecipherable. Maskull carried the filled bottles with + him to the table in front of the window, in order to get better light. + Nightspore moved away to make room for him. +

+

+ He now made out on the larger bottle the words “Solar Back Rays”; + and on the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could + distinguish something like “Arcturian Back Rays.” +

+

+ He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. “Have you been here + before, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “I guessed Krag would leave a message.” +

+

+ “Well, I don’t know—it may be a message, but it means + nothing to us, or at all events to me. What are ‘back rays’?” +

+

+ “Light that goes back to its source,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “And what kind of light would that be?” +

+

+ Nightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull’s eyes + still fixed on him, he brought out: “Unless light pulled, as well as + pushed, how would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after the + sun?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?” +

+

+ While he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the + other, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such a + manner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement to stop + it, his hand was actually descending, when—the bottle suddenly + disappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the table, but had + really vanished—it was nowhere at all. +

+

+ Maskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and + turned to Nightspore with a smile. “The message grows more + intricate.” +

+

+ Nightspore looked bored. “The valve became unfastened. The contents + have escaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the bottle + with them. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth’s + atmosphere, and the contents will dissipate, and will not reach the sun.” +

+

+ Maskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. “Does anything + prevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?” +

+

+ “Replace it in the cupboard,” said Nightspore. “Arcturus + is still below the horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the + house.” +

+

+ Maskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at the + sunlit moors. +

+

+ “Krag treats me like a child,” he remarked presently. “And + perhaps I really am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to + Krag. But why does he leave me to find out all this by myself—for I + don’t include you, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?” +

+

+ “Not before dark, I expect,” his friend replied. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ It was by this time past three o’clock. Feeling hungry, for they had + eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage, but + without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a safe in + the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was untouchable, + a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and an unopened can of + ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he came across an + uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once made preparations + for a scratch meal. +

+

+ A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it, and + he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of the + kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood made a + good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were procured and + washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the library. +

+

+ Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good appetite. + There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly black tea was + mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this concoction Maskull + drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had disappeared he was + still imbibing. +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him queerly. “Do you intend to finish the + bottle before Krag comes?” +

+

+ “Krag won’t want any, and one must do something. I feel + restless.” +

+

+ “Let us take a look at the country.” +

+

+ The cup, which was on its way to Maskull’s lips, remained poised in + the air. “Have you anything in view, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “A showplace,” answered Nightspore, biting his lip. +

+

+ Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. “Walking is + better than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How + far is it?” +

+

+ “Three or four miles each way.” +

+

+ “You probably mean something,” said Maskull, “for I’m + beginning to regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I + am growing nervous, and need incidents.” +

+

+ They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately + found themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from + Haillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower. +

+

+ Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest. + “What is that tower, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “We sail from the platform on the top.” +

+

+ “Tonight?”—throwing him a quick look. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. “Then we are looking at the + gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it.” +

+

+ “You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,” mumbled + Nightspore. +

+

+ After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved + sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it + and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way along the cliff + edge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The + two men then had some rough walking up and down hillsides and across deep + gullies. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and twilight imperceptibly + came on. They soon reached a spot where further progress appeared + impossible. The buttress of a mountain descended at a steep angle to the + very edge of the cliff, forming an impassable slope of slippery grass. + Maskull halted, stroked his beard, and wondered what the next step was to + be. +

+

+ “There’s a little scrambling here,” said Nightspore. + “We are both used to climbing, and there is not much in it.” +

+

+ He indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice a few + yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from fifteen to thirty + inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull’s consent to the + undertaking, he instantly swung himself down and started walking along + this ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing that there was no help for it, + followed him. The shelf did not extend for above a quarter of a mile, but + its passage was somewhat unnerving; there was a sheer drop to the sea, + four hundred feet below. In a few places they had to sidle along without + placing one foot before another. The sound of the breakers came up to them + in a low, threatening roar. +

+

+ Upon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized platform + of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea separated them + from the continuation of the cliffs beyond. +

+

+ “As we can’t get any further,” said Maskull, “I + presume this is your Gap of Sorgie?” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and + then lying at full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders + over the edge and began to stare straight down at the water. +

+

+ “What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?” +

+

+ Receiving no reply, however, he followed his friend’s example, and + the next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom + had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was + ineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a drum on + the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but quite distinct. + The beats were in four-four time, with the third beat slightly accented. + He now continued to hear the noise all the time he was lying there. The + beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the surf, but + seemed somehow to belong to a different world.... +

+

+ When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. “We + came here solely to hear that?” +

+

+ Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. “It’s called + locally ‘The Drum Taps of Sorgie.’ You will not hear that name + again, but perhaps you will hear the sound again.” +

+

+ “And if I do, what will it imply?” demanded Maskull in + amazement. +

+

+ “It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more + distinctly.... Now it’s growing dark, and we must get back.” +

+

+ Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It was + past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore’s words, and not of + the time. +

+
+

+ Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black + sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the + sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base of + the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was open. He + caught hold of Nightspore’s arm violently. “Look! Krag is + back.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must make haste to the house.” +

+

+ “And why not the tower? He’s probably in there, since the gate + is open. I’m going up to look.” +

+

+ Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. +

+

+ All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the + flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone + steps. “Are you coming up?” he asked. +

+

+ “No, I’ll wait here.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen + steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath. He + seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he + proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing, grew + worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his lungs + could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a ship’s + engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he completed + the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with the first + window, which was set in a high embrasure. +

+

+ Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and climbed + into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see something + from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the window at the + stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it was not a window + at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of space containing a + multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused only in one part, + where two very bright stars, like small moons in size, appeared in close + conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary object, as brilliant as + Venus and with an observable disk. One of the suns shone with a glaring + white light; the other was a weird and awful blue. Their light, though + almost solar in intensity, did not illuminate the interior of the tower. +

+

+ Maskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was gazing was + what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He had seen the sight + before, through Krag’s glass, but then the scale had been smaller, + the colors of the twin suns had not appeared in their naked reality.... + These colors seemed to him most marvellous, as if, in seeing them through + earth eyes, he was not seeing them correctly.... But it was at Tormance + that he stared the longest and the most earnestly. On that mysterious and + terrible earth, countless millions of miles distant, it had been promised + him that he would set foot, even though he might leave his bones there. + The strange creatures that he was to behold and touch were already living, + at this very moment. +

+

+ A low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard away. + “Don’t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an + instrument, to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when + he wakes you must die. You will go, but he will return.” +

+

+ Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was + in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. +

+

+ The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he redescended + to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his sensation of weight + was instantly removed, but he continued panting and palpitating, like a + man who has lifted a far too heavy load. +

+

+ Nightspore’s dark form came forward. “Was Krag there?” +

+

+ “If he was, I didn’t see him. But I heard someone speak.” +

+

+ “Was it Krag?” +

+

+ “It was not Krag—but a voice warned me against you.” +

+

+ “Yes, you will hear these voices too,” said Nightspore + enigmatically. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ When they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and the + door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not there. + Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every room—at + the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the man they were + expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the premises. Groping their + way into the library, they sat down in the total darkness to wait, for + nothing else remained to be done. Maskull lit his pipe, and began to drink + the remainder of the whisky. Through the open window sounded in their ears + the trainlike grinding of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. +

+

+ “Krag must be in the tower after all,” remarked Maskull, + breaking the silence. +

+

+ “Yes, he is getting ready.” +

+

+ “I hope he doesn’t expect us to join him there. It was beyond + my powers—but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic + pull of some sort.” +

+

+ “It is Tormantic gravity,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “I understand you—or, rather, I don’t—but it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ He went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the neat + liquor. “Who is Surtur?” he demanded abruptly. +

+

+ “We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master.” +

+

+ Maskull digested this. “I fancy you are right, for though I know + nothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you + personally acquainted with him?” +

+

+ “I must be... I forget...” replied Nightspore in a choking + voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the blackness + of the room. +

+

+ “Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of + them?... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where we are + going?” +

+

+ “You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions—I + can’t answer them.” +

+

+ “Then let us go on waiting for Krag,” said Maskull coldly. +

+

+ Ten minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep was + heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating heart. +

+

+ Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly + glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and + forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he + strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light hardly + served to illuminate the walls. +

+

+ “You have got here, then, Maskull?” +

+

+ “So it seems—but I shan’t thank you for your + hospitality, for it has been conspicuous by its absence.” +

+

+ Krag ignored the remark. “Are you ready to start?” +

+

+ “By all means—when you are. It is not so entertaining here.” +

+

+ Krag surveyed him critically. “I heard you stumbling about in the + tower. You couldn’t get up, it seems.” +

+

+ “It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start + takes place from the top.” +

+

+ “But your other doubts are all removed?” +

+

+ “So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing + to see what you can do.” +

+

+ “Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that + until you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the + gravitation of Tormance?” +

+

+ “Then I repeat, it’s an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can’t + get up.” +

+

+ Krag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp knife. +

+

+ “Remove your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve,” he + directed. +

+

+ “Do you propose to make an incision with that?” +

+

+ “Yes, and don’t start difficulties, because the effect is + certain, but you can’t possibly understand it beforehand.” +

+

+ “Still, a cut with a pocket-knife—” began Maskull, + laughing. +

+

+ “It will answer, Maskull,” interrupted Nightspore. +

+

+ “Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe,” said + Krag. “Let us see what your blood is made of.” +

+

+ Nightspore obeyed. +

+

+ Krag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and almost + savage slash at Maskull’s upper arm. The wound was deep, and blood + flowed freely. +

+

+ “Do I bind it up?” asked Maskull, scowling with pain. +

+

+ Krag spat on the wound. “Pull your shirt down, it won’t bleed + any more.” +

+

+ He then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation with + grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor. +

+

+ An awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through Maskull’s + body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to faint, but it + subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing but a gnawing ache + in the injured arm, just strong enough to make life one long discomfort. +

+

+ “That’s finished,” said Krag. “Now you can follow + me.” +

+

+ Picking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others hastened + after him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment later their + footsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, resounded through the + deserted house. Krag waited till they were out, and then banged the front + door after them with such violence that the windows shook. +

+

+ While they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught his + arm. “I heard a voice up those stairs.” +

+

+ “What did it say?” +

+

+ “That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return.” +

+

+ Krag smiled. “The journey is getting notorious,” he remarked, + after a pause. “There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you + want to return?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious + enough to be mentioned.” +

+

+ “It is not a bad thing to hear voices,” said Krag, “but + you mustn’t for a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you + out of the night world.” +

+

+ When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately set + foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up, bearing + the lantern. Maskull followed him with some trepidation, in view of his + previous painful experience on these stairs, but when, after the first + half-dozen steps, he discovered that he was still breathing freely, his + dread changed to relief and astonishment, and he could have chattered like + a girl. +

+

+ At the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stopping, but + Maskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his acquaintance + with the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. The lens had lost + its magic property. It had become a common sheet of glass, through which + the ordinary sky field appeared. +

+

+ The climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again mounted + and stared out, but still the common sights presented themselves. After + that, he gave up and looked through no more windows. +

+

+ Krag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so that he + had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the top, he saw + yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened door. His + companions were standing just inside a small room, shut off from the + staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely furnished and contained + nothing of astronomical interest. The lantern was resting on a table. +

+

+ Maskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. “Are we at + the top?” +

+

+ “Except for the platform over our heads,” replied Krag. +

+

+ “Why didn’t that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in + the evening?” +

+

+ “Oh, you missed your opportunity,” said Krag, grinning. + “If you had finished your climb then, you would have seen + heart-expanding sights. From the fifth window, for example, you would have + seen Tormance like a continent in relief; from the sixth you would have + seen it like a landscape.... But now there’s no need.” +

+

+ “Why not—and what has need got to do with it?” +

+

+ “Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the + same reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no + necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route.” +

+

+ “Very well,” said Maskull, not quite understanding what he + meant. “But is this Surtur’s den?” +

+

+ “He has spent time here.” +

+

+ “I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may + not get another chance.” +

+

+ “What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There’s + no need to waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately + going on to the reality.” +

+

+ “Then let us go.” He pressed his eyeballs wearily. +

+

+ “Do we strip?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “Naturally,” answered Krag, and he began to tear off his + clothes with slow, uncouth movements. +

+

+ “Why?” demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of + the other two men. +

+

+ Krag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like an + ape’s. “Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may + sprout limbs—I don’t say we shall.” +

+

+ “A-ha!” exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his + undressing. +

+

+ Krag smote him on the back. “New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. + You like that?” +

+

+ The three men stood as nature made them. Maskull’s spirits rose + fast, as the moment of departure drew near. +

+

+ “A farewell drink to success!” cried Krag, seizing a bottle + and breaking its head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, but + he poured the amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups. +

+

+ Perceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It was as + if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag dropped onto + the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his legs in the air. He + tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a little horseplay went on + between the two. Nightspore took no part in it, but walked to and fro, + like a hungry caged animal. +

+

+ Suddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, piercing wail, + such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It ceased abruptly, and was + not repeated. +

+

+ “What’s that?” called out Maskull, disengaging himself + impatiently from Krag. +

+

+ Krag rocked with laughter. “A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce + the bagpipes of its earth life—in honour of our departure.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned to Krag. “Maskull will sleep throughout the + journey?” +

+

+ “And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you + passengers can amuse yourselves as you please.” +

+

+ “Are we off at last?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a + Rubicon!... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so to + arrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours.” +

+

+ “Then you assert that Surtur is already there?” +

+

+ “Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller.” +

+

+ “Won’t I see him?” +

+

+ Krag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t forget + that you have asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will + know more about him than you do, but your memory will be your worst + friend.” +

+
+

+ He led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the flat + roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric torch. +

+

+ Maskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey them + through the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet long, eight + wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian back rays was in + front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was directed toward the + south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon a flat platform, raised + about four feet above the level of the roof, so as to encounter no + obstruction on starting its flight. +

+

+ Krag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them to enter. + Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the gigantic, + far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now onward. He frowned, + shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. Krag clambered past them + onto his pilot’s seat. He threw the flashlight through the open + door, which was then carefully closed, fastened, and screwed up. +

+

+ He pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its platform, + and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its speed increased + sensibly, though not excessively, until the approximate limits of the + earth’s atmosphere were reached. Krag then released the speed valve, + and the car sped on its way with a velocity more nearly approaching that + of thought than of light. +

+

+ Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the + rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness oppressed + him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the thirteenth + attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily. +

+

+ The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore’s face. The + alterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least + interest for him. +

+

+ Krag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness his + phosphorescent charts and gauges. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind was + blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never + experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was + unable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A numbing pain, + which he could not identify with any region of his frame, acted from now + onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his other sensations. It gnawed + away at him continuously; sometimes it embittered and irritated him, at + other times he forgot it. +

+

+ He felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he discovered + there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, having a cavity in + the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. Then he also became + aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, an inch below the ear. +

+

+ From the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long as his + arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible. +

+

+ As soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new organs, + his heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be their use, they + proved one thing—that he was in a new world. +

+

+ One part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull cried out + to his companions, but received no response. This frightened him. He went + on shouting out, at irregular intervals—equally alarmed at the + silence and at the sound of his own voice. Finally, as no answering hail + came, he thought it wiser not to make too much noise, and after that he + lay quiet, waiting in cold blood for what might happen. +

+

+ In a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were not + his friends. +

+

+ A pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black night, + while in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one would have said + that day was breaking. The brightness went on imperceptibly increasing for + a very long time. +

+

+ Maskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the sand + was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with black stems + and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible. +

+

+ The day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before long + the brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the midday + sun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull welcomed it—it + relieved his pain and diminished his sense of crushing weight. The wind + had dropped with the rising of the sun. +

+

+ He now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. He was + unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially dissolved, and all + that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of red sand dotted with ten + or twenty bushes. +

+

+ He felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started forward in + nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the sand. Looking up + over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see a woman standing beside + him. +

+

+ She was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather + classically draped. According to earth standards she was not beautiful, + for, although her face was otherwise human, she was endowed—or + afflicted—with the additional disfiguring organs that Maskull had + discovered in himself. She also possessed the heart tentacle. But when he + sat up, and their eyes met and remained in sympathetic contact, he seemed + to see right into a soul that was the home of love, warmth, kindness, + tenderness, and intimacy. Such was the noble familiarity of that gaze, + that he thought he knew her. After that, he recognised all the loveliness + of her person. She was tall and slight. All her movements were as graceful + as music. Her skin was not of a dead, opaque colour, like that of an earth + beauty, but was opalescent; its hue was continually changing, with every + thought and emotion, but none of these tints was vivid—all were + delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very long, loosely plaited, + flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull had familiarised himself + with them, imparted something to her face that was unique and striking. He + could not quite define it to himself, but subtlety and inwardness seemed + added. The organs did not contradict the love of her eyes or the angelic + purity of her features, but nevertheless sounded a deeper note—a + note that saved her from mere girlishness. +

+

+ Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely any + humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised his + plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying over + her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a darker, more + masculine colour. +

+

+ “Do you think you can put it on by yourself?” +

+

+ He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not sounded. +

+

+ He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the + complications of the drapery. +

+

+ “Poor man—how you are suffering!” she said, in the same + inaudible language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she + said was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead. +

+

+ “Where am I? Is this Tormance?” he asked. As he spoke, he + staggered. +

+

+ She caught him, and helped him to sit down. “Yes. You are with + friends.” +

+

+ Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in English. + Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so fresh, nervous, + and girlish. “I can now understand your language. It was strange at + first. In the future I’ll speak to you with my mouth.” +

+

+ “This is extraordinary! What is this organ?” he asked, + touching his forehead. +

+

+ “It is named the ‘breve.’ By means of it we read one + another’s thoughts. Still, speech is better, for then the heart can + be read too.” +

+

+ He smiled. “They say that speech is given us to deceive others.” +

+

+ “One can deceive with thought, too. But I’m thinking of the + best, not the worst.” +

+

+ “Have you seen my friends?” +

+

+ She scrutinised him quietly, before answering. “Did you not come + alone?” +

+

+ “I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost + consciousness on arrival, and I haven’t seen them since.” +

+

+ “That’s very strange! No, I haven’t seen them. They can’t + be here, or we would have known it. My husband and I—” +

+

+ “What is your name, and your husband’s name?” +

+

+ “Mine is Joiwind—my husband’s is Panawe. We live a very + long way from here; still, it came to us both last night that you were + lying here insensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come + to you, but in the end I won.” Here she laughed. “I won, + because I am the stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in + perception.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind!” said Maskull simply. +

+

+ The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. “Oh, why do + you say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at + the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood.” +

+

+ “What is this?” he demanded, rather puzzled. +

+

+ “It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world. + Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.” +

+

+ Maskull flushed. “I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won’t + it hurt you?” +

+

+ “If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will + share the pain.” +

+

+ “This is a new kind of hospitality to me,” he muttered. +

+

+ “Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” asked Joiwind, half + smiling, half agitated. +

+

+ “I can’t answer for any of my actions in this world. I + scarcely know where I am.... Why, yes—of course I would, Joiwind.” +

+

+ While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled away + from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog-charged. The + desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, except one, where + there was a sort of little oasis—some low hills, clothed sparsely + with little purple trees from base to summit. It was about a quarter of a + mile distant. +

+

+ Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of + nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull + expostulated. +

+

+ “Really, this part of it is nothing,” she said, laughing. + “And if it were—a sacrifice that is no sacrifice—what + merit is there in that?... Come now—your arm!” +

+

+ The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a milky, + opalescent fluid. +

+

+ “Not that one!” said Maskull, shrinking. “I have already + been cut there.” He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth. +

+

+ Joiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds + together, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull’s + for a long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through + the incision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. After + about five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he wanted to + remove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his way, but it was + none too soon—she stood there pale and dispirited. +

+

+ She looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if + strange depths had opened up before her eyes. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “Where have you come from, with this awful blood?” +

+

+ “From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for + this world, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I am + sorry I let you have your way.” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t say that! There was nothing else to be done. We + must all help one another. Yet, somehow—forgive me—I feel + polluted.” +

+

+ “And well you may, for it’s a fearful thing for a girl to + accept in her own veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. + If I had not been so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it.” +

+

+ “But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? Why + did you come here, Maskull?” +

+

+ He was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. “Will you + think it foolish if I say I hardly know?—I came with those two men. + Perhaps I was attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of + adventure.” +

+

+ “Perhaps,” said Joiwind. “I wonder... These friends of + yours must be terrible men. Why did they come?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur.” +

+

+ Her face grew troubled. “I don’t understand it. One of them at + least must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur—or + Shaping, as he is called here—he can’t be really bad.” +

+

+ “What do you know of Surtur?” asked Maskull in astonishment. +

+

+ Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved + restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. “I see.... + and yet I don’t see,” she said at last. “It is very + difficult.... Your God is a dreadful Being—bodyless, unfriendly, + invisible. Here we don’t worship a God like that. Tell me, has any + man set eyes on your God?” +

+

+ “What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?” +

+

+ “I want to know.” +

+

+ “In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy + men are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are + past.” +

+

+ “Our world is still young,” said Joiwind. “Shaping goes + among us and converses with us. He is real and active—a friend and + lover. Shaping made us, and he loves his work.” +

+

+ “Have you met him?” demanded Maskull, hardly believing + his ears. +

+

+ “No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an + opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting and + talking with Shaping.” +

+

+ “I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is + the same as Surtur?” +

+

+ “Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, + but a few name him Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nail. “Have you ever heard of Crystalman?” +

+

+ “That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names—which + shows how much he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of affection.” +

+

+ “It’s odd,” said Maskull. “I came here with quite + different ideas about Crystalman.” +

+

+ Joiwind shook her hair. “In that grove of trees over there stands a + desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we’ll go on + our way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It’s a long way off, and we + must get there before Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Now, what is Blodsombre?” +

+

+ “For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell’s + rays are so hot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?” +

+

+ Joiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. “Naturally we don’t + take our names from you, Maskull. I don’t think our names are very + poetic, but they follow nature.” +

+

+ She took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the + tree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the upper + mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from a furnace, + struck Maskull’s head. He involuntarily looked up, but lowered his + eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that instant was a glaring + ball of electric white, three times the apparent diameter of the sun. For + a few minutes he was quite blind. +

+

+ “My God!” he exclaimed. “If it’s like this in + early morning you must be right enough about Blodsombre.” When he + had somewhat recovered himself he asked, “How long are the days + here, Joiwind?” +

+

+ Again he felt his brain being probed. +

+

+ “At this time of the year, for every hour’s daylight that you + have in summer, we have two.” +

+

+ “The heat is terrific—and yet somehow I don’t feel so + distressed by it as I would have expected.” +

+

+ “I feel it more than usual. It’s not difficult to account for + it; you have some of my blood, and I have some of yours.” +

+

+ “Yes, every time I realise that, I—Tell me, Joiwind, will my + blood alter, if I stay here long enough?—I mean, will it lose its + redness and thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like + yours?” +

+

+ “Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us.” +

+

+ “Do you mean food and drink?” +

+

+ “We eat no food, and drink only water.” +

+

+ “And on that you manage to sustain life?” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull, our water is good water,” replied Joiwind, + smiling. +

+

+ As soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The + enormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting + where it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep blue, + almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger than on + earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in which they were + walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently about forty miles + distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was shaped like a cup. + Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he was travelling in + dreamland, but for the intensity of the light, which made everything + vividly real. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. “That’s + Poolingdred.” +

+

+ “You didn’t come from there!” he exclaimed, quite + startled. +

+

+ “Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now.” +

+

+ “With the single object of finding me?” +

+

+ “Why, yes.” +

+

+ The colour mounted to his face. “Then you are the bravest and + noblest of all girls,” he said quietly, after a pause. “Without + exception. Why, this is a journey for an athlete!” +

+

+ She pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues stained + her cheeks in rapid transition. “Please don’t say any more + about it, Maskull. It makes me feel unpleasant.” +

+

+ “Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?” +

+

+ “Oh, yes. And you mustn’t be frightened at the distance. We + think nothing of long distances here—we have so much to think about + and feel. Time goes all too quickly.” +

+

+ During their conversation they had drawn near the base of the hills, which + sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. Maskull now began + to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What looked like a small patch + of purple grass, above five feet square, was moving across the sand in + their direction. When it came near enough he perceived that it was not + grass; there were no blades, but only purple roots. The roots were + revolving, for each small plant in the whole patch, like the spokes of a + rimless wheel. They were alternately plunged in the sand, and withdrawn + from it, and by this means the plant proceeded forward. Some uncanny, + semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together, moving at + one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in flight. +

+

+ Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a + dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind + caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed it + to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the air and fed on the + chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what was peculiar about it + was its colour. It was an entirely new colour—not a new shade or + combination, but a new primary colour, as vivid as blue, red, or yellow, + but quite different. When he inquired, she told him that it was known as + “ulfire.” Presently he met with a second new colour. This she + designated “jale.” The sense impressions caused in Maskull by + these two additional primary colors can only be vaguely hinted at by + analogy. Just as blue is delicate and mysterious, yellow clear and + unsubtle, and red sanguine and passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild + and painful, and jale dreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous. +

+

+ The hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird + shapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, covered + the slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and through. Some hard + fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a large apple, and shaped + like an egg, was lying in profusion underneath the trees. +

+

+ “Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don’t you eat it?” + asked Maskull. +

+

+ She looked at him tranquilly. “We don’t eat living things. The + thought is horrible to us.” +

+

+ “I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you + really sustain your bodies on water?” +

+

+ “Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull—would + you eat other men?” +

+

+ “I would not.” +

+

+ “Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow + creatures. So nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really live + on anything, water does very well.” +

+

+ Maskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he did so + another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. He found that + the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel fashion acquainting + him with the inward properties of the fruit. He could not only see, feel, + and smell it, but could detect its intrinsic nature. This nature was hard, + persistent and melancholy. +

+

+ Joiwind answered the questions he had not asked. +

+

+ “Those organs are called ‘poigns.’ Their use is to + enable us to understand and sympathise with all living creatures.” +

+

+ “What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull.” +

+

+ He threw the fruit away and flushed again. +

+

+ Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and + slowly smiled. “Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do + you know why you think so? It’s because you are still impure. By and + by you will listen to all language without shame.” +

+

+ Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle round + his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool pressure. + The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and sensitive that + it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that embraced him—a + pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced neither + voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the caress was + rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least trace of sex in + it—and so he received it. +

+

+ She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and + penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul. +

+

+ “Yes, I wish to be pure,” he muttered. “Without that + what can I ever be but a weak, squirming devil?” +

+

+ Joiwind released him. “This we call the ‘magn,’” + she said, indicating her tentacle. “By means of it what we love + already we love more, and what we don’t love at all we begin to + love.” +

+

+ “A godlike organ!” +

+

+ “It is the one we guard most jealously,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ The shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost + insufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward to + the zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull + looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result. + After staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but + suspicions had already begun to gather in his mind. +

+

+ A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by the + tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very middle shot up + a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and transparent, + crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural, circular well, + containing dark green water. +

+

+ When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the + well. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at it intently. “Is this the shrine you talked about?” +

+

+ “Yes. It is called Shaping’s Well. The man or woman who wishes + to invoke Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it.” +

+

+ “Pray for me,” said Maskull. “Your unspotted prayer will + carry more weight.” +

+

+ “What do you wish for?” +

+

+ “For purity,” answered Maskull, in a troubled voice. +

+

+ Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She held + it up to Maskull’s mouth. “You must drink too.” He + obeyed. She then stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the + soft murmurings of spring, prayed aloud. +

+

+ “Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has + come to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let him + know the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don’t spare him + pain, dear Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into him a + noble soul.” +

+

+ Maskull listened with tears in his heart. +

+

+ As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and, half + buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of dazzlingly white + pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro between distinctness + and indistinctness, like an object being focused. Then they faded out of + sight again. +

+

+ “Is that a sign from Shaping?” asked Maskull, in a low, awed + tone. +

+

+ “Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage.” +

+

+ “What can that be, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do + so, because it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, wise men + will do hereafter in full knowledge.” +

+

+ “It is right for man to pray,” said Maskull. “Good and + evil in the world don’t originate from nothing. God and Devil must + exist. And we should pray to the one, and fight the other.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must fight Krag.” +

+

+ “What name did you say?” asked Maskull in amazement. +

+

+ “Krag—the author of evil and misery—whom you call Devil.” +

+

+ He immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from learning + his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. +

+

+ “Why do you hide your mind from me?” she demanded, looking at + him strangely and changing colour. +

+

+ “In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can + scarcely grasp its meaning.” But he lied. +

+

+ Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. “The + world is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my husband, has + travelled, and he has told me things I would almost rather have not heard. + One person he met believed the universe to be, from top to bottom, a + conjurer’s cave.” +

+

+ “I should like to meet your husband.” +

+

+ “Well, we are going home now.” +

+

+ Maskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, but + was afraid of offending her, and checked himself. +

+

+ She read the mental question. “What need is there? Is not the whole + world full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish possessions?” +

+

+ An extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five + distinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body, paddled + by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to it, as it went by. “I love that beast, grotesque + as it is—perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had + children of my own, would I still love it? Which is best—to love two + or three, or to love all?” +

+

+ “Every woman can’t be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to + have a few like you. Wouldn’t it be as well,” he went on, + “since we’ve got to walk through that sun-baked wilderness, to + make turbans for our heads out of some of those long leaves?” +

+

+ She smiled rather pathetically. “You will think me foolish, but + every tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have only to + throw our robes over our heads.” +

+

+ “No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me—weren’t + these very robes once part of a living creature?” +

+

+ “Oh, no—no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they + have never been in themselves alive.” +

+

+ “You reduce life to extreme simplicity,” remarked Maskull + meditatively, “but it is very beautiful.” +

+

+ Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began + their march across the desert. +

+

+ They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight toward + Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged their way to lie + due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very tiring to his naked feet. + The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him semi-blind. He was hot, + parched, and tormented with the craving to drink; his undertone of pain + emerged into full consciousness. +

+

+ “I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer.” +

+

+ “Yes, it is queer—if it is accidental,” said Joiwind, + with a peculiar intonation. +

+

+ “Exactly!” agreed Maskull. “If they had met with a + mishap, their bodies would still be there. It begins to look like a piece + of bad work to me. They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am + here, and I must make the best of it. I will trouble no more about them.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to speak ill of anyone,” said Joiwind, + “but my instinct tells me that you are better away from those men. + They did not come here for your sake, but for their own.” +

+

+ They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint. She + twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of + confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?” +

+

+ “Yes,” she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. “But + not much—and it gives me great happiness.” +

+

+ Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born + lamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to the front, + and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete + rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into pots + of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining eyes, as + they passed. +

+

+ Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. “That’s a personal friend of + mine, Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It’s always + waltzing, and always in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere.” +

+

+ “It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is + no need for anyone to get anywhere. What I don’t quite understand is + how you manage to pass your days without ennui.” +

+

+ “That’s a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for + excitement?” +

+

+ “Something of the kind,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “That must be a disease brought on by rich food.” +

+

+ “But are you never dull?” +

+

+ “How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh + is clean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you will + understand what sort of question you have asked.” +

+

+ Farther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of the + desert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, with a + cool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a fountain in + this respect—that the water of which it was composed did not return + to the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at the summit. It was in + fact a tall, graceful column of dark green fluid, with a capital of + coiling and twisting vapours. +

+

+ When they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was the + continuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down from the + direction of the mountains. The explanation of the phenomenon was + evidently that the water at this spot found chemical affinities in the + upper air, and consequently forsook the ground. +

+

+ “Now let us drink,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ She threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face downward, + by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in following her + example. She refused to quench her thirst until she had seen him drink. He + found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. He drank copiously. It + affected his palate in a new way—with the purity and cleanness of + water was combined the exhilaration of a sparkling wine, raising his + spirits—but somehow the intoxication brought out his better nature, + and not his lower. +

+

+ “We call it ‘gnawl water’,” said Joiwind. “This + is not quite pure, as you can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is + crystal clear. But we would be ungrateful if we complained. After this you’ll + find we’ll get along much better.” +

+

+ Maskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the first + time. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and wonders that + he had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring scarlet of the sands + became separated into a score of clearly distinguished shades of red. The + sky was similarly split up into different blues. The radiant heat of + Branchspell he found to affect every part of his body with unequal + intensities. His ears awakened; the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the + sands hummed, even the sun’s rays had a sound of their own—a + kind of faint Aeolian harp. Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his + nostrils. His palate lingered over the memory of the gnawl water. All the + pores of his skin were tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived + currents of air. His poigns explored actively the inward nature of + everything in his immediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew + from her person a stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve + he exchanged thoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony + stirred him to the depths, and throughout the walk of that endless morning + he felt no more fatigue. +

+

+ When it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy margin + of a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred. +

+

+ Panawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in + white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face + and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked + skin at all—it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh, + extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the + artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness and + delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the + manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair, + which fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from + vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was still + a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the appearance of + a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and harmony. +

+

+ His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull + saw his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in + her husband’s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and + smiling. Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but + submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in + the act. +

+

+ “The stranger is red-blooded, then?” +

+

+ He was startled by Panawe’s speaking in English, and the voice too + was extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed + in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of + thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected. + How this could be, he did not know. +

+

+ “How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t say if I am really + speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my + thoughts into your tongue as I utter them.” +

+

+ “Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind + gaily. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked the husband. +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “That name must have a meaning—but again, thought is a strange + thing. I connect that name with something—but with what?” +

+

+ “Try to discover,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ “Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the + Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?” +

+

+ “There is such a myth. The hero’s name was Prometheus.” +

+

+ “Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action—but + what it all means I can’t say, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks + thoughtlessly.” +

+

+ “There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,” + said Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative. +

+

+ “Where do you come from?” +

+

+ “From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.” +

+

+ “What for?” +

+

+ “I was tired of vulgarity,” returned Maskull laconically. He + intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that Krag’s + name should not come to light. +

+

+ “That’s an honourable motive,” said Panawe. “And + what’s more, it may be true, though you spoke it as a prevarication.” +

+

+ “As far as it goes, it’s quite true,” said Maskull, + staring at him with annoyance and surprise. +

+

+ The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were + standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds + showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was dark + green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it. +

+

+ Joiwind caught his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake + will bear us?” +

+

+ Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his weight. + Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip about—nevertheless + the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by watching and imitating + Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself without assistance. After + that he found the sport excellent. +

+

+ For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind’s half + falls and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either + of the men. Her slight, draped form—dipping, bending, rising, + swaying, twisting, upon the surface of the dark water—this was a + picture Maskull could not keep his eyes away from. +

+

+ The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags, + gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in detail. + A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet. The surface of + the lake grew disturbed—so much so that Maskull had difficulty in + keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and started swimming + on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and laughed so joyously + that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight. +

+

+ They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The water + on Maskull’s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed + upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange movements + on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was working + convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his hand to his + mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured pebble. He + looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked, over his + shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection, Panawe let + the object—whatever it was—fall to the ground, and took no + more interest in it. +

+

+ “May I look?” asked Maskull; and, without waiting for + permission, he picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped + crystal of pale green. +

+

+ “Where did this come from?” he asked queerly. +

+

+ Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. “It came out of my + husband.” +

+

+ “That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t believe it. But + what is it?” +

+

+ “I don’t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an + overflowing of beauty.” +

+

+ “Beauty?” +

+

+ Joiwind smiled. “If you were to regard nature as the husband, and + Panawe as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected. +

+

+ “On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are + called artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and + out of them again. The only distinction is that their productions + are more human and intelligible.” +

+

+ “Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe, and, taking + the crystal out of Maskull’s hand, he threw it into the lake. +

+

+ The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. + Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently + tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of the + two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet thoughts. + The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight. The heat of + Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing, the radiance was + shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull’s pain steadily grew + worse. +

+

+ When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of + vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. It + was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of the + cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The hills varied + in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a thousand feet + above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind of glittering + vegetation which he could not comprehend. +

+

+ Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder, and pointed upward. + “Here you have the highest peak in the whole land—that is, + until you come to the Ifdawn Marest.” +

+

+ On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable + sensation of wild vigour and restlessness—but it passed away. +

+

+ Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower + half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it + grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth + became thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the + summit, tall forest trees appeared. +

+

+ These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the small + twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast no shadows + from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and branches were + fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, however, was the + fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two plants belonged to the + same species. +

+

+ “Won’t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?” said + Joiwind, pulling her husband’s arm. +

+

+ He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for again trespassing in his + brain. But the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is + necessarily energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is + still fluid—not yet rigid—and matter is plastic. The will + forks and sports incessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.” +

+

+ “Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after + listening attentively. “But what I don’t grasp is this—if + living creatures here sport so energetically, how does it come about that + human beings wear much the same shape as in my world?” +

+

+ “I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All + creatures that resemble Shaping must of necessity resemble one another.” +

+

+ “Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?” +

+

+ “Exactly.” +

+

+ “It is most wonderful,” said Maskull. “Then the + brotherhood of man is not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.” +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into sternness. +

+

+ Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured blossoms + of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his breve he + could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, “To me! To me!” + While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to one of + these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry immediately + ceased. +

+

+ They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A lake + occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly intercepted the + view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this mountain lake was nearly + circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile across. Its shore stood a hundred + feet below them. +

+

+ Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to + wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he + found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency. He + walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths. It + was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance, without + arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out of reach of + his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and mysterious, + seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense depth. It was + like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal length, but the + accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable time, and then + ceased. +

+

+ The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that in + which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and + unbelievable—the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. + It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only + occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. +

+

+ He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his + experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down on + the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked the + desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose dimensions + could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet he could not make + out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of transparent glass, but it + did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in it could be distinguished, + except a rolling river in the far distance, and, farther off still, on the + horizon, a line of dark mountains, of strange shapes. Instead of being + rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these heights were carved by nature into + the semblance of castle battlements, but with extremely deep indentations. +

+

+ The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. It + contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the + heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the + afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset. +

+

+ Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble + became his feelings. +

+

+ “What is that light?” +

+

+ Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. “It + is Alppain—our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are + the Ifdawn Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter.” +

+

+ “Is it imagination, or am I really being affected—tormented by + that light?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not imagination—it’s real. How can it be + otherwise when two suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same + time? Luckily you are not looking at Alppain itself. It’s invisible + here. You would need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.” +

+

+ “Why do you say ‘luckily’?” +

+

+ “Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be + more than you could bear.... But I don’t know.” +

+

+ For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very + thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye + chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and + stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. + Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led + the way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain and + terminated in the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The host + took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly sprinkled + the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent light + gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and continued to + illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was no furniture. + Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches. +

+

+ The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband tended + her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, + energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the + sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was + distressed. +

+

+ Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. “It’s quite true + this has been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will + lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of + sacrifice.” +

+

+ “I can’t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,” + said Maskull, “and she has been twice the distance.” +

+

+ “Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that’s why she + is so strong.” +

+

+ “You know she gave me some of it?” +

+

+ “Otherwise you couldn’t even have started.” +

+

+ “I shall never forget that.” +

+

+ The languorous heat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern, + the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited + Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude. +

+

+ “Will it disturb her if we talk?” +

+

+ “No.” +

+

+ “But how do you feel?” +

+

+ “I require little sleep. In any case, it’s more important that + you should hear something about your new life. It’s not all as + innocent and idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be + instructed about the dangers.” +

+

+ “Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange—shall I put + questions, or will you tell me what you think is most essential?” +

+

+ Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the same + time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs. +

+

+ “I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from + them what sort of place you have come to.” +

+

+ “I shall be grateful,” said Maskull, preparing himself to + listen. +

+

+ Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in + tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones. +

+

+ PANAWE’S STORY +

+

+ “My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old + (that’s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more + slowly here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in + Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through trees + for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we went along, + until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark red colour and + the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping to think. If left + uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep abstraction. My + mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different stamp. She was + beautiful, generous, and charming—but also active. She kept urging + him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made me miserable. + On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest which bordered on + the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water that will not bear a + man’s weight, and as these light parts don’t differ in + appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed out + a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. + Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the same + day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest, + surrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big + gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a + hundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His body + was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed at + equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of great + watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I + afterward heard this saying of his: ‘To lie is to sleep, to sit is + to dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the infection, and + fell into meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol + scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too + learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a prodigy—that + is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled over this, and + wished to consult the wisest of men. +

+

+ “Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, ‘This perhaps will + not be so difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among + us is a walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the + female who was born in the same body with him—if a female, she has + killed the male. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.’ +

+

+ “‘How shall we end it?’ asked my mother. +

+

+ “‘Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, + and it will be of whichever sex it pleases.’ +

+

+ “‘You want, of course, to be a man, don’t you?’ + said my mother to me earnestly. +

+

+ “‘Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a + crime.’ +

+

+ “Something in my tone attracted Broodviol’s notice. +

+

+ “‘That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore + the male must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you + arrive home, the child will be a boy.’ +

+

+ “My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before + Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking + kindly at her. +

+

+ “I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a + few hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died. +

+

+ “His prophecy came true—before we reached home, I knew the + meaning of shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later + years, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the + conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite + straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in one + body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for life + withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was the stronger + temperament, and she sacrificed herself—though not consciously—for + me. +

+

+ “As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or + destroy anything that contained life—and I have kept it ever since. +

+

+ “While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother’s + death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I + therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother’s country, where, + as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary. +

+

+ “One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is so called + either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous + character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the + mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies + below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet—a terrible + precipice on either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not + much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley + on my right hand was plunged in shadow—that on my left was sparkling + with sunlight and dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for + some miles. Far to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, + connecting the two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most + towering pinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but + I have heard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is + that they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to + travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with + whom they reside. +

+

+ “Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, + clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the + ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like a + different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I saw + someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart again, + for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I went slowly on, + and presently we drew near enough together for me to recognise the walker. + It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I + knew him by his peculiarities of person. He was of a bright gamboge colour + and possessed a very long, proboscis-like nose, which appeared to be a + useful organ, but did not add to his beauty, as I knew beauty. He was + dubbed ‘sorcerer’ from his wondrous skill in budding limbs and + organs. The tale is told that one evening he slowly sawed his leg off with + a blunt stone and then lay for two days in agony while his new leg was + sprouting. He was not reputed to be a consistently wise man, but he had + periodical flashes of penetration and audacity that none could equal. +

+

+ “We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart. +

+

+ “‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. His + manner was as calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible + with hidden terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this + humiliation. We continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many + minutes. +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pleasure?’ he asked suddenly. +

+

+ “I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any + emergency, so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the + conversation, as if it were for that purpose we had met. +

+

+ “‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘for pain drives out pleasure.’ +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pain?’ +

+

+ “I reflected. ‘Love. Because we will accept our loved one’s + share of pain.’ +

+

+ “‘But what is greater than Love?’ he persisted. +

+

+ “‘Nothing, Slofork.’ +

+

+ “‘And what is Nothing?’ +

+

+ “‘That you must tell me.’ +

+

+ “‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a + good child here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But + there’s another world—not Shaping’s—and there all + this is unknown, and another order of things reigns. That world we call + Nothing—but it is not Nothing, but Something.’ +

+

+ “There was a pause. +

+

+ “‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at + growing and ungrowing organs?’ +

+

+ “‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the + same story. I want to hear different stories.’ +

+

+ “‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in + pulses?’ +

+

+ “‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had + it from did not add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’ +

+

+ “‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that + wisdom is misery.’ +

+

+ “‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, + and never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful + face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own + way.’ +

+

+ “Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the + path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum + toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, and + shut my eyes. +

+

+ “Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks + it was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide. + Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to + speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others. +

+

+ “I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for + four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the + possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly + through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the + third extraordinary personage of my experience—the grim Muremaker. + It was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I + saw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was + hanging in an upright position in front of a cliff—a yawning gulf, a + thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could, + and looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to + turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I + could not even grasp what had happened. +

+

+ “‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which + shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am + sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like + this. While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but + when he gets tired—and it can’t be long now—I drop into + those depths.’ +

+

+ “Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this + ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole + existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake of + his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day. +

+

+ “In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a + month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to + part.” +

+

+ Panawe stopped speaking. +

+

+ “That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I + begin to know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and + have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and + wise in their thoughts.” +

+

+ “Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I + see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make + up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of + stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.” +

+

+ “No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a + great deal to unlearn.” +

+

+ They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. + Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Maskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and walked + out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He climbed to + the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. The afterglow of + Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The mountains stood up wild and + grand. +

+

+ They impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which are + widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and adventure + seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment that the + determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest and explore its + dangers. +

+

+ He returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts. +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. “Is this + selfishness, Maskull?” she asked, “or are you drawn by + something stronger than yourself?” +

+

+ “We must be reasonable,” he answered, smiling. “I can’t + settle down in Poolingdred before I have found out something about this + surprising new planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have come.... + But very likely I shall come back here.” +

+

+ “Will you make me a promise?” +

+

+ Maskull hesitated. “Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my + powers yet.” +

+

+ “It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this—never to raise + your hand against a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, + without first recollecting its mother, who suffered for it.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I won’t promise that,” said Maskull slowly, + “but I’ll undertake something more tangible. I will never lift + my hand against a living creature without first recollecting you, Joiwind.” +

+

+ She turned a little pale. “Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, + he might be jealous.” +

+

+ Panawe put his hand on her gently. “You would not talk like that in + Shaping’s presence,” he said. +

+

+ “No. Forgive me! I’m not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull’s + blood in my veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he will + do only honourable deeds, wherever he may be.” +

+

+ “I’ll set Maskull on his way,” said Panawe. +

+

+ “There’s no need,” replied Maskull. “The way is + plain.” +

+

+ “But talking shortens the road.” +

+

+ Maskull turned to go. +

+

+ Joiwind pulled him around toward her softly. “You won’t think + badly of other women on my account?” +

+

+ “You are a blessed spirit,” answered he. +

+

+ She trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there + thinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. Halfway down the + cliff face a little spring was encountered. Its water was colourless, + transparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull had satisfied his thirst he + felt himself different. His surroundings were so real to him in their + vividness and colour, so unreal in their phantom-like mystery, that he + scrambled downhill like one in a winter’s dream. +

+

+ When they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable forest + of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily foreign looking. + The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it was as if he were + gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they got underneath the trees + the light rays of the sun continued to come through—white, savage, + and blazing—but they were gelded of heat. Then it was not hard to + imagine that they were wandering through cool, bright elfin glades. +

+

+ Through the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly + straight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see. +

+

+ Maskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow unable + to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable smile—stern, + yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the silence, but, + strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he was singing or + speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical recitative, exactly like a + bewitching adagio from a low toned stringed instrument—but there was + a difference. Instead of the repetition and variation of one or two short + themes, as in music, Panawe’s theme was prolonged—it never + came to an end, but rather resembled a conversation in rhythm and melody. + And, at the same time, it was no recitative, for it was not declamatory. + It was a long, quiet stream of lovely emotion. +

+

+ Maskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be termed + song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear and + intelligible—not with the intelligibility of words, but in the way + one sympathises with another’s moods and feelings; and Maskull felt + that something important was about to be uttered, which would explain all + that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, he never understood—and + yet somehow he did understand. +

+

+ Late in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe ceased his + recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the fashion of a man who + wishes to convey that he intends to go no farther. +

+

+ “What is the name of this country?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is the Lusion Plain.” +

+

+ “Was that music in the nature of a temptation—do you wish me + not to go on?” +

+

+ “Your work lies before you, and not behind you.” +

+

+ “What was it, then? What work do you allude to?” +

+

+ “It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It seemed like Shaping music to me.” +

+

+ The instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why he + had done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him. +

+

+ Panawe, however, showed no surprise. “Shaping you will find + everywhere.” +

+

+ “Am I dreaming, or awake?” +

+

+ “You are awake.” +

+

+ Maskull fell into deep thought. “So be it,” he said, rousing + himself. “Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?” +

+

+ “You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of + the Marest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the forest and + river meet.” +

+

+ “Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?” +

+

+ “Only this, Maskull—wherever you go, help to make the world + beautiful, and not ugly.” +

+

+ “That’s more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, + and have no ambitions in the way of beautifying life—But tell + Joiwind I will try to keep myself pure.” +

+

+ They parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had stopped, and + watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once. +

+

+ He became aware that something was about to happen. The air was + breathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his frame + in voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced through the + sky overhead. +

+

+ A single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere behind + him. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at first; but + then it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the same time that + it increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, but now it was as if + blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his head. Then it gradually + diminished in force, and travelled away in front of him. It ended very + faintly and distantly. +

+

+ He felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his heart. + Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day did not exist + for him. He was unconscious of himself—he had no thoughts and no + feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude for him. +

+

+ A man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed that + his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was young rather + than old. Maskull observed that his countenance possessed none of the + special organs of Tormance, to which he had not even yet become + reconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person seemed to radiate an + excess of life, like the trembling of air on a hot day. His eyes had such + force that Maskull could not meet them. +

+

+ He addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a double + tone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an undertone, like + a sympathetic tanging string. +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence of + this individual. He believed that something good was happening to him. He + found it physically difficult to bring any words out. “Why do you + stop me?” +

+

+ “Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?” +

+

+ “I think you are Shaping.” +

+

+ “I am Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were being + stabbed. +

+

+ “You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you + here? I wish you to serve me.” +

+

+ Maskull could no longer speak. +

+

+ “Those who joke at my world,” continued the vision, “those + who make a mock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, + which are not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots—they + shall not escape.” +

+

+ “I do not mock it.” +

+

+ “Ask me your questions, and I will answer them.” +

+

+ “I have nothing.” +

+

+ “It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not + understand? You are my servant and helper.” +

+

+ “I shall not fail.” +

+

+ “This is for my sake, and not for yours.” +

+

+ These last words had no sooner left Surtur’s mouth than Maskull saw + him spring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of the + sky, he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur’s form—not + as a concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and + frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out. +

+

+ Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the + solitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the far + distance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with regularly + increasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and then grew more + and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away in the rear, until + the note was merged in the deathlike silence of the forest. It appeared to + Maskull like the closing of a marvellous and important chapter. +

+

+ Simultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed to + open up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of immeasurable + height. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his limbs, and looked + around him with a slow smile. +

+

+ After a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and confused, + but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the rest—huge, + shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul of a creative + artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of destiny. +

+

+ The more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in this + new world—and even before leaving Earth—the clearer and more + indisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own purposes, + but must be here for an end. But what that end was, he could not imagine. +

+

+ Through the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. It + looked a stupendous ball of red fire—now he could realise at his + ease what a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left and + began to descend steeply. +

+

+ A wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of him, + no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest path led him + straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and regarded the lapping, + gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite bank, the forest continued. + Miles to the south, Poolingdred could just be distinguished. On the + northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains loomed up—high, wild, + beautiful, and dangerous. They were not a dozen miles away. +

+

+ Like the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths of + cool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In spite of + his bodily fatigue, he wished to test his strength against something. This + craving he identified with the crags of the Marest. They seemed to have + the same magical attraction for his will as the lodestone for iron. He + kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that direction—wondering + if it would not be possible to conquer the heights that evening. But when + he glanced back again at Poolingdred, he remembered Joiwind and Panawe, + and grew more tranquil. He decided to make his bed at this spot, and to + set off as soon after daybreak as he should awake. +

+

+ He drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to sleep. + By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared nothing for + the possible dangers of the night—he confided in his star. +

+

+ Branchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came on, + and through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, he was + awakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, and wondered + where he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow was a terrestrial + phenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got up and went toward the + source of the light. +

+

+ Away from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled across the + form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the crimson rays was + lying on the ground, several yards away from her. It was like a small + jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He barely threw a glance at that, + however. +

+

+ The woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big, smooth, + shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a thin tentacle, + but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, which was upturned, was + wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. But he saw with surprise that in + place of a breve on her forehead, she possessed another eye. All three + were closed. The colour of her skin in the crimson glow he could not + distinguish. +

+

+ He touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up at him + without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but the two lower + ones were dull and vacant—mere carriers of vision. The middle, upper + one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, unflinching glare had + yet something seductive and alluring in it. Maskull felt a challenge in + that look of lordly, feminine will, and his manner instinctively + stiffened. +

+

+ She sat up. +

+

+ “Can you speak my language?” he asked. “I wouldn’t + put such a question, but others have been able to.” +

+

+ “Why should you imagine that I can’t read your mind? Is it so + extremely complex?” +

+

+ She spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to + listen to. +

+

+ “No, but you have no breve.” +

+

+ “Well, but haven’t I a sorb, which is better?” And she + pointed to the eye on her brow. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Oceaxe.” +

+

+ “And where do you come from?” +

+

+ “Ifdawn.” +

+

+ These contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere sound + of her voice was fascinating. +

+

+ “I am going there tomorrow,” he remarked. +

+

+ She laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull,” he went on. “I am a stranger—from + another world.” +

+

+ “So I should judge, from your absurd appearance.” +

+

+ “Perhaps it would be as well to say at once,” said Maskull + bluntly, “are we, or are we not, to be friends?” +

+

+ She yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. “Why should we be + friends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a lover.” +

+

+ “You must look elsewhere for that.” +

+

+ “So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace.” +

+

+ She dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her + eyes. +

+

+ “What are you doing here?” he interrogated. +

+

+ “Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there + often enough it is a night for us which has no next morning.” +

+

+ “Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, + it would be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to expect + in the way of dangers.” +

+

+ “I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you,” + retorted Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Are you returning in the morning?” persisted Maskull. +

+

+ “If I wish.” +

+

+ “Then we will go together.” +

+

+ She got up again on her elbow. “Instead of making plans for other + people, I would do a very necessary thing.” +

+

+ “Pray, tell me.” +

+

+ “Well, there’s no reason why I should, but I will. I would try + to convert my women’s organs into men’s organs. It is a man’s + country.” +

+

+ “Speak more plainly.” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn + without a sorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too is + worse than useless.” +

+

+ “You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do + you advise me to do?” +

+

+ She negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the ground. +

+

+ “There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a + good while, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will do + the rest during the night. I promise nothing.” +

+

+ Oceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull. +

+

+ He considered for a few minutes, and then walked over to where the stone + was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the size of a hen’s + egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, and throwing out a + continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks. +

+

+ Finally deciding that Oceaxe’s advice was good, he applied the drude + first to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a cauterising + sensation—a feeling of healing pain. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already + above the horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs + had changed during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelike + sorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springing from + the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physical security, + but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before he could grasp its + function. +

+

+ As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of his + three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his + understanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lower eyes + he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; with the + sorb he saw nothing as self-existent—everything appeared as an + object of importance or non-importance to his own needs. +

+

+ Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked about + him. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if she + were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up his mind + to bathe in the river. +

+

+ It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, but + its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through the trees. + A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked like animals, and + were always changing shape. The ground, as well as the leaves and branches + of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dew or rain during the + night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered his nostrils. His pain + was quiescent, and his spirits were high. +

+

+ Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In the + morning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they were + from five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellated + line seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him were + composed of gaudy rocks—vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and + black. As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy + drum, and he thrilled all over—indescribable hopes, aspirations, and + emotions came over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which + he felt—it was something different.... +

+

+ He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolled + indolently up. +

+

+ He could now perceive the colour of her skin—it was a vivid, yet + delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlingly + unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuine representative + of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curious about it. The + curves were womanly, the bones were characteristically female—yet + all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlying will. The + commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainer language. + Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex and + softness. +

+

+ She came to the river’s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. + “Now you are built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, + lingering voice. +

+

+ “You see, the experiment was successful,” he answered, smiling + gaily. +

+

+ Oceaxe continued looking him over. “Did some woman give you that + ridiculous robe?” +

+

+ “A woman did give it to me”—dropping his smile—“but + I saw nothing ridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don’t now.” +

+

+ “I think I’d look better in it.” +

+

+ As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suited + her form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed, + rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was in + fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress. Oceaxe + in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him. +

+

+ “I don’t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,” + she remarked slowly. +

+

+ “Why not? What can I be to you?” +

+

+ “I have been thinking about you during the night.” Her voice + was retarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallen + tree, and looked away. +

+

+ “In what way?” +

+

+ She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces of + the bark. +

+

+ “Last night you were so contemptuous.” +

+

+ “Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with + your head over your shoulder?” +

+

+ It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent. +

+

+ “Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can’t + go on resisting me forever.” +

+

+ “But this is preposterous,” said Maskull, opening his eyes + wide. “Granted that you are a beautiful woman—we can’t + be quite so primeval.” +

+

+ Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can + wait.” +

+

+ “From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my + society. I have no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only + on condition that you drop this language.” +

+

+ “Yet you do think me beautiful?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see + what that has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will + find plenty of men to admire—and love you.” +

+

+ At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you + imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not + Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?” +

+

+ “Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the + temptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely + woman is concerned. I am not my own master.” +

+

+ “I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you + humiliate me so?” +

+

+ Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my own + master.” +

+

+ “Then who is your master?” +

+

+ “Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.” +

+

+ “Did you speak with him?” she asked curiously. +

+

+ “I did.” +

+

+ “Tell me what he said.” +

+

+ “No, I can’t—I won’t. But whatever he said, his + beauty was more tormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that’s why I can + look at you in cold blood.” +

+

+ “Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have + thought it effeminate.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. You won’t always be so boyish. But + don’t try my patience too far.” +

+

+ “Let us talk about something else—and, above all, let us get + on our road.” +

+

+ She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he + grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. “Oh, + Maskull, Maskull—what a fool you are!” +

+

+ “In what way am I a fool?” he demanded, scowling—not at + her words, but at his own weakness. +

+

+ “Isn’t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of + lovers? And yet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away + from nature, but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?” +

+

+ “Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: + persistence.” +

+

+ “Read me well, and then it is natural law that you’ll think + twice and three times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, + we had better eat.” +

+

+ “Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “Don’t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?” +

+

+ “What food is it?” +

+

+ “Fish from the river.” +

+

+ Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felt + hungry. +

+

+ “Is there nothing milder?” +

+

+ She pulled her mouth scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’t + you? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be looked + at, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have to + change your notions.” +

+

+ “Go catch your fish,” he returned, pulling down his brows. +

+

+ The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, from + the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, and peered + into the depths. Presently her look became tense and concentrated; she + dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of little monster. It was more + like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly plates and teeth. She threw it + on the ground, and it started crawling about. Suddenly she darted all her + will into her sorb. The creature leaped into the air, and fell down dead. +

+

+ She picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales and + entrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stained with + the light scarlet blood. +

+

+ “Find the drude, Maskull,” she said, with a lazy smile. + “You had it last night.” +

+

+ He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dull and + feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it in the + interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground. +

+

+ “While it’s cooking, I’ll wash some of this blood away, + which frightens you so much. Have you never seen blood before?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back—the + contrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful, + masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with the fascinating + and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea flashed into his + mind. +

+

+ “In your country I’m told there is an act of will called + ‘absorbing.’ What is that?” +

+

+ She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a + delicious, clashing laugh. “You think I am half a man?” +

+

+ “Answer my question.” +

+

+ “I’m a woman through and through, Maskull—to the + marrowbone. But that’s not to say I have never absorbed males.” +

+

+ “And that means...” +

+

+ “New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a + stormier heart...” +

+

+ “For you, yes—But for them?...” +

+

+ “I don’t know. The victims don’t describe their + experiences. Probably unhappiness of some sort—if they still know + anything.” +

+

+ “This is a fearful business!” he exclaimed, regarding her + gloomily. “One would think Ifdawn a land of devils.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river. “Better + men than you—better in every sense of the word—are walking + about with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like, + Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simple + natures were made to be absorbed.” +

+

+ “And human rights count for nothing!” +

+

+ She had bent over the river’s edge, to wash her arms and hands, but + glanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. “They do count. + But we only regard a man as human for just as long as he’s able to + hold his own with others.” +

+

+ The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast + heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. Whether it + was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long abstention, he + did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even cannibalistic. He ate + little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled. +

+

+ “Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,” + said Oceaxe. “On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull + with me, to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.” +

+

+ They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a + sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had the + contrary effect—it caused them to exert themselves, and they moved + faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The exercise + gradually improved the circulation of Maskull’s blood, and he began + to look at things in a far more cheerful way. The hot sunshine, the + diminished wind, the marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet, crystal forests—all + was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer and nearer to the + gaily painted heights of Ifdawn. +

+

+ There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was + attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the + same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost, + painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings + produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull’s + impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices. +

+

+ He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have most extraordinary + shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular—no slopes or + curves.” +

+

+ She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. “That’s + typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and + gradual.” +

+

+ “I hear you, but I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “All over the Marest you’ll find patches of ground plunging + down or rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice + before acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.” +

+

+ Maskull was impressed. “A fresh, wild, primitive land.” +

+

+ “How is it where you come from?” asked Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years to + move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks. Originality + is a lost habit.” +

+

+ “Are there women there?” +

+

+ “As with you, and not very differently formed.” +

+

+ “Do they love?” +

+

+ He laughed. “So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and + thoughts of the whole sex.” +

+

+ “Probably they are more beautiful than I?” +

+

+ “No, I think not,” said Maskull. +

+

+ There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily + onward. +

+

+ “What is your business in Ifdawn?” demanded Oceaxe suddenly. +

+

+ He hesitated over his answer. “Can you grasp that it’s + possible to have an aim right in front of one, so big that one can’t + see it as a whole?” +

+

+ She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, “What sort of aim?” +

+

+ “A moral aim.” +

+

+ “Are you proposing to set the world right?” +

+

+ “I propose nothing—I am waiting.” +

+

+ “Don’t wait too long, for time doesn’t wait—especially + in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Something will happen,” said Maskull. +

+

+ Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. “So you have no special destination in + the Marest?” +

+

+ “No, and if you’ll permit me, I will come home with you.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. + “That’s what I have been offering all the time. Of course you + will come home with me. As for Crimtyphon...” +

+

+ “You mentioned that name before. Who is he?” +

+

+ “Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.” +

+

+ “This doesn’t improve matters,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove + him.” +

+

+ “We are certainly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, + quite startled. “Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a + compact with you?” +

+

+ “You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to + come home with me.” +

+

+ “Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?” +

+

+ “Either you or I must kill him.” +

+

+ He eyed her for a full minute. “Now we are passing from folly to + insanity.” +

+

+ “Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the too-sad truth. + And when you have seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.” +

+

+ “I’m aware I am on a strange planet,” said Maskull + slowly, “where all sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where + the very laws of morality may be different. Still as far as I am + concerned, murder is murder, and I’ll have no more to do with a + woman who wants to make use of me, to get rid of her husband.” +

+

+ “You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily. +

+

+ “Or mad.” +

+

+ “Then you had better leave me, Maskull—only—” +

+

+ “Only what?” +

+

+ “You wish to be consistent, don’t you? Leave all other mad and + wicked people as well. Then you’ll find it easier to reform the + rest.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Well?” demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile. +

+

+ “I’ll come with you, and I’ll see Crimtyphon—if + only to warn him.” +

+

+ Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether at the + image conjured up by Maskull’s last words, or from some other cause, + he did not know. The conversation dropped. +

+

+ At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the river + made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer of use to + them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully. +

+

+ “It’s a stiff climb for a hot morning.” +

+

+ “Let’s rest here a little,” said she, indicating a + smooth flat island of black rock, standing up just out of the water in the + middle of the river. +

+

+ They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however, + standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite, + and uttered a piercing and peculiar call. +

+

+ “What is that for?” She did not answer. After waiting a + minute, she repeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself + from the top of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. + It was followed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly + slow and clumsy. +

+

+ “What are they?” he asked. +

+

+ She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat down + beside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapes and + colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures with + long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminating in fins + which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legs and fins + were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhat ominous + fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thin spike + projecting from each of the heads. +

+

+ “They are shrowks,” explained Oceaxe at last. “If you + want to know their intention, I’ll tell you. To make a meal of us. + First of all their spikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are + really suckers, will drain us dry of blood—pretty thoroughly too; + there are no half measures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don’t + eat flesh.” +

+

+ “As you show such admirable sangfroid,” said Maskull dryly, + “I take it there’s no particular danger.” +

+

+ Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. A + new form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground. +

+

+ “Are you trying to get up?” asked Oceaxe smoothly. +

+

+ “Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to + the rock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in view + in waking them up?” +

+

+ “I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking + and asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with your + will.” +

+

+ “I seem to have no will, unfortunately.” +

+

+ Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich and + beautiful. “It’s obvious you aren’t a very heroic + protector, Maskull. It seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I + expected better things of your big body. Why, my husband would send those + creatures dancing all around the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing + of them. Now watch me. Two of the three I’ll kill; the third we will + ride home on. Which one shall we keep?” +

+

+ The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their + bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of + loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted + with their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift + motion. +

+

+ “Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are + equally objectionable to me.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most + energetic animal. Watch now.” +

+

+ She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt + something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The two + monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the earth, + one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and then lie + motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied that its + flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but tame and + unwilling. +

+

+ Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their island + rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure. They + immediately crossed the water. +

+

+ Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet + long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; a mane + of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome and unnatural, + with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood-sucking cavity. + There were true fins on its back and tail. +

+

+ “Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s + flank. “As I have to steer, let me jump on first.” +

+

+ She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’s + back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the fin + there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his outer + hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and for + additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it. +

+

+ Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this + ride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires. +

+

+ The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had + been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which was + communicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling, + passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but + Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his + feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The + ride will last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like + a flute, but rather malicious. +

+

+ Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm. +

+

+ The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose + slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward the + painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the + contact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, + was merely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, + holding on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the + knowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was + responding to his touch like a lovely harp. +

+

+ They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around + him. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer + rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of + islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands + were mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a + high tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless + cracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like lakes, + in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The + perpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts + of the innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; + but the level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees + alone were distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of + different shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying + but did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage. +

+

+ As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his + passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay and + bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across the + sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no + aesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for + action and possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted + to deal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky; + attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to + play a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the + scenery had no significance for him. +

+

+ So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe + turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what + she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord. +

+

+ “Cold again so quickly, Maskull?” +

+

+ “What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the + side. “It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.” +

+

+ “You wish to take a hand?” +

+

+ “I wish to get down.” +

+

+ “Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?” +

+

+ “Different from what? What are you talking about?” said + Maskull, still lost in abstraction. +

+

+ Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make + a man of you, for the material is excellent.” +

+

+ After that, she turned her back once more. +

+

+ The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were not + on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken + terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying + well above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs + confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to + enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel. + They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above + thirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many + hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted to + plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity. +

+

+ “What is at the bottom?” he asked. +

+

+ “Death for you, if you go to look for it.” +

+

+ “We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?” +

+

+ “Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of + course all things are possible.” +

+

+ “I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully. +

+

+ Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and + see?” +

+

+ “You find that amusing?” +

+

+ “No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the + beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.” +

+

+ Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance + which is not a novelty for me.” +

+

+ “Yes, but I am a novelty for you.” +

+

+ The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain, and + all the time they were gradually rising. +

+

+ “At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said + Maskull, who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last + ready for conversation. +

+

+ “What’s the matter with my voice?” +

+

+ “It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why + I mentioned it.” +

+

+ “Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.” +

+

+ “Inappropriate?” +

+

+ “I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but + whether you are speaking or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest + and strangest instrument I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is + inappropriate.” +

+

+ “You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?” +

+

+ He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken off + by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the gulf + directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder. +

+

+ “The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Shall we escape?” +

+

+ She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such a + steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor + of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be heard, + and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip in the + wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. A + hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each second—splitting, + hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. When they had + still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, a sort of dark, indefinite + sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under their feet, ascending rapidly, + with irresistible might, accompanied by the most horrible noises. The + canal was filled up for two hundred yards, before and behind them. + Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be raised. The shrowk in its + ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. Beast and riders experienced in + that moment all the horrors of an earthquake—they were rolled + violently over, and thrown among the rocks and dirt. All was thunder, + instability, motion, confusion. +

+

+ Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the sunlight. + The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the valley floor + had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher than the old. + Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as if by magic; + not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up and examined + themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its side, panting + violently, and sweating with fright. +

+

+ “That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off + his person. +

+

+ Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe. +

+

+ “It might have been far worse.... I mean, it’s bad enough to + come up, but it’s death to go down, and that happens just as often.” +

+

+ “Whatever induces you to live in such a country?” +

+

+ “I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought + of moving out of it.” +

+

+ “A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a + place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to + another.” +

+

+ “You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling. +

+

+ She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet. +

+

+ “Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her + perch. “We haven’t too much time to waste.” +

+

+ He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the + mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his + thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into + his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit there + in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be doing + something. +

+

+ “How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without + turning her head. +

+

+ “What secrets—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I + think it wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still + enough?” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve + far too many problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some + of them.” +

+

+ He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way toward a + distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural + quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a + broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered. +

+

+ “What mountain is that?” he asked. +

+

+ “Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Are we going there?” +

+

+ “Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might + be worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land + as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. + You can also see Alppain from it.” +

+

+ “That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.” +

+

+ “Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his + wrist. “Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn + together.” +

+

+ He grunted unintelligibly. +

+

+ There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet. + While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not + far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful + roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one + minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with the + shock. “This is frightful.” +

+

+ Oceaxe remained unmoved. +

+

+ “Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, + when he had somewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of + steel.... Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?” +

+

+ “Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” + replied Oceaxe, with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but + that doesn’t prevent our often getting caught.” +

+

+ “You had better teach me the signs.” +

+

+ “We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I + expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first + let us get home.” +

+

+ “How far is it now?” +

+

+ “It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her + forefinger. “You can see it.” +

+

+ He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made + out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two miles + distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the bottom of + which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it to the + mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in the + brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle of the + peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with sea-green + leaves. +

+

+ “I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can + I see two figures, or am I mistaken?” +

+

+ “I also see something,” said Maskull. +

+

+ In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of + about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on the + mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both descended—Maskull + with aching thighs. +

+

+ “What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without + waiting for a suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. + “Fly away home! I may want you some other time.” +

+

+ It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after half + running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air, and + paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They watched + it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of land, + followed by Maskull. +

+

+ Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The + sky had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. + The ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses. + Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—and + occasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked + extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird + Ifdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen + from a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but + only desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. He + longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed + of the least importance to him. +

+

+ On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a large + copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of small + trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps the + roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller + fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling + fountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides, overhung + with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with an air of + wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god might have + dwelt here. +

+

+ Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who + formed the centre of the picture. +

+

+ One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a tall + couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and was + eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums lay on + the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree completely + sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad in a rough + skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from his face + whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were smooth, + soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil; but his + violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the colour of + yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it was violet. + The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet away from + him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, and rather + commonplace, but there was something terrible about his appearance. The + features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, despair, and + horror. +

+

+ Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost + shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch. +

+

+ “We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking + toward the youth. +

+

+ He eyed her, but said nothing. +

+

+ “How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial + but extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the + ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down the + skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with crossed + arms. +

+

+ There was silence for a minute. +

+

+ “Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” said the + boy on the couch, in a calm, treble voice. +

+

+ The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a strangled + tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already buds on + my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.” +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that + although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by + the boy. +

+

+ “What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow + roots will reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well + established. Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, + and his fingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head + into a crown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that + within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from + this new and remarkable tree.” +

+

+ “I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out + his hand for another plum. “They thrill me.” +

+

+ “This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward. +

+

+ The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as if + he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat. +

+

+ “The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again + after Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I + expect, so you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your + roots. Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear + to you now, in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. + Now you may go.” +

+

+ The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe + yawned. +

+

+ Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you + joking, or are you a devil?” +

+

+ “I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will + devise a new punishment for you.” +

+

+ The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched her + beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the struggle + between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; he reached out + his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self-control + broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—his beard + wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he had to + deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a + terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered + together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight continued + his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get + away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, + recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, to + get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. Grasping + his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, so that the neck + was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died. +

+

+ The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull viewed + it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder came into + his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s face had + undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal character + had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask which + expressed nothing. +

+

+ He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen the + brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face of the + apparition at the séance, after Krag had dealt with it. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Oceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating the + plums. +

+

+ “You see, you had to kill him, Maskull,” she said, in a rather + quizzical voice. +

+

+ He came away from the corpse and regarded her—still red, and still + breathing hard. “It’s no joking matter. You especially ought + to keep quiet.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Because he was your husband.” +

+

+ “You think I ought to show grief—when I feel none?” +

+

+ “Don’t pretend, woman!” +

+

+ Oceaxe smiled. “From your manner one would think you were accusing + me of some crime.” +

+

+ Maskull literally snorted at her words. “What, you live with filth—you + live in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then—” +

+

+ “Oh, now I grasp it,” she said, in a tone of perfect + detachment. +

+

+ “I’m glad.” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull,” she proceeded, after a pause, “and who + gave you the right to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?” +

+

+ He looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another long + interval of silence. +

+

+ “I never loved him,” said Oceaxe at last, looking at the + ground. +

+

+ “That makes it all the worse.” +

+

+ “What does all this mean—what do you want?” +

+

+ “Nothing from you—absolutely nothing—thank heaven!” +

+

+ She gave a hard laugh. “You come here with your foreign + preconceptions and expect us all to bow down to them.” +

+

+ “What preconceptions?” +

+

+ “Just because Crimtyphon’s sports are strange to you, you + murder him—and you would like to murder me.” +

+

+ “Sports! That diabolical cruelty.” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re sentimental!” said Oceaxe contemptuously. + “Why do you need to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, + all the world over, and one form is as good as another. He was only to be + made a tree, like a million other trees. If they can endure the life, why + can’t he?” +

+

+ “And this is Ifdawn morality!” +

+

+ Oceaxe began to grow angry. “It’s you who have peculiar ideas. + You rave about the beauty of flowers and trees—you think them + divine. But when it’s a question of taking on this divine, fresh, + pure, enchanting loveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately + becomes a cruel and wicked degradation. Here we have a strange riddle, in + my opinion.” +

+

+ “Oceaxe, you’re a beautiful, heartless wild beast—nothing + more. If you weren’t a woman—” +

+

+ “Well”—curling her lip—“let us hear what + would happen if I weren’t a woman?” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nails. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. I can’t touch you—though there’s + certainly not the difference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. + For this you may thank my ‘foreign preconceptions.’... + Farewell!” +

+

+ He turned to go. Oceaxe’s eyes slanted at him through their long + lashes. +

+

+ “Where are you off to, Maskull?” +

+

+ “That’s a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must + be a change for the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!” +

+

+ “Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just + starting, and you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can quickly + put that body out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so much, the + place is big enough—we needn’t talk, or even see each other.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to breathe the same air.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” She was sitting erect and motionless, like a + beautiful statue. “And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, + and all the undone things which you set out to do?” +

+

+ “You aren’t the one I shall speak to about that. But”—he + eyed her meditatively—“while I’m still here you can tell + me this. What’s the meaning of the expression on that corpse’s + face?” +

+

+ “Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. + Ought they not to?” +

+

+ “I once heard it called ‘Crystalman’s face.’” +

+

+ “Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is + doubtless the family resemblance.” +

+

+ “It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the + same.” +

+

+ “You have wise and truthful acquaintances.” +

+

+ “Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?” said Maskull, + more to himself than to her. “That apparition was something quite + different.” +

+

+ She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, + gently pulled his arm. +

+

+ “You see—we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your + questions. I’m not excessively smart, but I’ll try to be of + assistance.” +

+

+ Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She bent + toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, cool, + feminine breath should fan his cheek. +

+

+ “Aren’t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then + what does it matter who sent you?” +

+

+ “What can you possibly know of good and evil?” +

+

+ “Are you only instructing the initiated?” +

+

+ “Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you’re quite right. I + wish to do what I can—not because I am qualified, but because I am + here.” +

+

+ Oceaxe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a giant, + both in body and soul. What you want to do, you can do.” +

+

+ “Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own + ends?” +

+

+ She sighed. “Don’t you see how difficult you are making the + conversation? Let’s talk about your work, not about ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern sky. + It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. While he was + observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a disquieting nature, + passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it struck him for the first + time that he was being unnecessarily brutal to her. He had forgotten that + she was a woman, and defenceless. +

+

+ “Won’t you stay?” she asked all of a sudden, quite + openly and frankly. +

+

+ “Yes, I think I’ll stay,” he replied slowly. “And + another thing, Oceaxe—if I’ve misjudged your character, pray + forgive me. I’m a hasty, passionate man.” +

+

+ “There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for + vicious hearts. And you didn’t misjudge my character, as far as you + went—only, every woman has more than one character. Don’t you + know that?” +

+

+ During the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and both + looked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly across the neck + that separated them from the mainland. +

+

+ “Tydomin,” muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She + immediately moved away from Maskull and stood up. +

+

+ The newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was no + longer quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who knows her + way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its quiescence there + just was a glimpse of something strange and dangerous. It was curiously + alluring, though not exactly beautiful. Her hair was clustering and + boyish, reaching only to the neck. It was of a strange indigo colour. She + was quaintly attired in a tunic and breeches, pieced together from the + square, blue-green plates of some reptile. Her small, ivory-white breasts + were exposed. Her sorb was black and sad—rather contemplative. +

+

+ Without once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided + straight toward Crimtyphon’s corpse. When she arrived within a few + feet of it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded. +

+

+ Oceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, “It’s + Crimtyphon’s other wife, who lives under Disscourn. She’s a + most dangerous woman. Be careful what you say. If she asks you to do + anything, refuse it outright.” +

+

+ “The poor soul looks harmless enough.” +

+

+ “Yes, she does—but the poor soul is quite capable of + swallowing up Krag himself.... Now, play the man.” +

+

+ The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin’s notice, for + she now slowly turned her eyes toward them. +

+

+ “Who killed him?” she demanded. +

+

+ Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able to + catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and curiously + enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter. +

+

+ Oceaxe whispered, “Don’t say a word, leave it all to me.” + Then she swung her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, + “I killed him.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s words by this time were ringing in Maskull’s head + like an actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to + ignore them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the + consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting + her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, “It + was I that killed Crimtyphon.” +

+

+ Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. “Maskull says that so as + to shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him, + Tydomin.” +

+

+ “I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own + strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose.” +

+

+ Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. “It’s of little + consequence who killed him, for he’s better dead than alive, in my + opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.” +

+

+ Tydomin appeared not to hear him—she looked beyond him at Oceaxe + musingly. “When you murdered him, didn’t it occur to you that + I would come here, to find out?” +

+

+ “I never once thought of you,” replied Oceaxe, with an angry + laugh. “Do you really imagine that I carry your image with me + wherever I go?” +

+

+ “If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?” +

+

+ “Lying hypocrite!” Oceaxe spat out. “You never were in + love with Crimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an + excellent opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon’s + gone.... For we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had + asked him. He worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly.” +

+

+ Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. “Is it necessary + for you to listen to all this?” +

+

+ Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away out + of earshot. +

+

+ Tydomin approached Oceaxe. “Perhaps because my beauty fades and I’m + no longer young, I needed him all the more.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl. “Well, he’s dead, and that’s + the end of it. What are you going to do now, Tydomin?” +

+

+ The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. “There’s + nothing left to do, except mourn the dead. You won’t grudge me that + last office?” +

+

+ “Do you want to stay here?” demanded Oceaxe suspiciously. +

+

+ “Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.” +

+

+ “Then what is to become of us?” +

+

+ “I thought that you and your lover—what is his name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend + Blodsombre at my home.” +

+

+ Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, “Will you come with me now to + Disscourn?” +

+

+ “If you wish,” returned Maskull. +

+

+ “Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon’s + death. I won’t keep him.” +

+

+ “Why don’t you question me, rather?” demanded Oceaxe, + looking up sharply. +

+

+ Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. “We know each other too well.” +

+

+ “Play no tricks!” said Oceaxe, and she turned to go. +

+

+ “Surely you must be dreaming,” said Tydomin. “That’s + the way—unless you want to walk over the cliffside.” +

+

+ The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction which + Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty + space. +

+

+ “Shaping! I must be mad,” cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she + obediently followed the other’s finger. +

+

+ She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces away. + Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing. Tydomin + remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her. Without + hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled on—and + when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took one more + step. +

+

+ Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body + disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded. +

+

+ Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself out + of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the + ground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished. +

+

+ He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to + sob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet. +

+

+ The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some time + before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words with + difficulty. “You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want to + hear why you did it.” +

+

+ “Hadn’t I cause?” she asked, standing with downcast + eyes. +

+

+ “Was it pure fiendishness?” +

+

+ “It was for Crimtyphon’s sake.” +

+

+ “She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so.” +

+

+ “You are loyal to her, and I’m loyal to him.” +

+

+ “Loyal? You’ve made a terrible blunder. She wasn’t my + mistress. I killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely + no part in it.” +

+

+ “Wasn’t she your lover?” asked Tydomin slowly. +

+

+ “You’ve made a terrible mistake,” repeated Maskull. + “I killed him because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of + his death as you are.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s face took on a hard look. “So you are guilty of two + deaths.” +

+

+ There was a dreadful silence. +

+

+ “Why couldn’t you believe me?” asked Maskull, who was + pale and sweating painfully. +

+

+ “Who gave you the right to kill him?” demanded Tydomin + sternly. +

+

+ He said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question. +

+

+ She sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. “Since + you murdered him, you must help me bury him.” +

+

+ “What’s to be done? This is a most fearful crime.” +

+

+ “You are a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? + What are we to you?” +

+

+ “Unfortunately you are right.” +

+

+ Another pause ensued. +

+

+ “It’s no use standing here,” said Tydomin. “Nothing + can be done. You must come with me.” +

+

+ “Come with you? Where to?” +

+

+ “To Disscourn. There’s a burning lake on the far side of it. + He always wished to be cast there after death. We can do that after + Blodsombre—in the meantime we must take him home.” +

+

+ “You’re a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried + when that poor girl must remain unburied?” +

+

+ “You know that’s out of the question,” replied Tydomin + quietly. +

+

+ Maskull’s eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing. +

+

+ “We must do something,” she continued. “I shall go. You + can’t wish to stay here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I couldn’t stay here—and why should I want to? You + want me to carry the corpse?” +

+

+ “He can’t carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will + ease your mind to carry it.” +

+

+ “Ease my mind?” said Maskull, rather stupidly. +

+

+ “There’s only one relief for remorse, and that’s + voluntary pain.” +

+

+ “And have you no remorse?” he asked, fixing her with a heavy + eye. +

+

+ “These crimes are yours, Maskull,” she said in a low but + incisive voice. +

+

+ They walked over to Crimtyphon’s body, and Maskull hoisted it on to + his shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not + offer to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. +

+

+ She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through + sunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the heat + was insufferable—streams of sweat coursed down his face, and the + corpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked in front + of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her white, womanish + calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His features grew sullen. At + the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed his burden to slip off his + shoulders on to the ground, where it lay sprawled every which way. He + called out to Tydomin. +

+

+ She quickly looked around. +

+

+ “Come here. It has just occurred to me”—he laughed—“why + should I be carrying this corpse—and why should I be following you + at all? What surprises me is, why this has never struck me before.” +

+

+ She at once came back to him. “I suppose you’re tired, + Maskull. Let us sit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you + know of any reason why I should be acting as your porter?” He + laughed again, but nevertheless sat down on the ground beside her. +

+

+ Tydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, so as + to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still glowing. + Maskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a moment or two + in silence. +

+

+ “Why don’t you speak?” he asked at last. +

+

+ “What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I’m not speaking of that light.” +

+

+ “Doesn’t it suggest anything at all?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it doesn’t. What does it matter?” +

+

+ “Not sacrifice?” +

+

+ Maskull grew sullen again. “Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?” +

+

+ “Hasn’t it entered your head yet,” said Tydomin, looking + straight in front of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, + “that this adventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you + have made some sort of sacrifice?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes’ + time Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost + angrily, threw Crimtyphon’s corpse over his shoulder again. +

+

+ “How far do we have to go?” he asked in a surly tone. +

+

+ “An hour’s walk.” +

+

+ “Lead on.” +

+

+ “Still, this isn’t the sacrifice I mean,” said Tydomin + quietly, as she went on in front. +

+

+ Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to pass + from peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they were able + to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make use of rude + bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented path. Underneath + were the black, impenetrable abysses—on the surface were the glaring + sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the chaotic tangle of strange plants. + There were countless reptiles and insects. The latter were thicker built + than those of Earth—consequently still more disgusting, and some of + them were of enormous size. One monstrous insect, as large as a horse, + stood right in the centre of their path without budging. It was + armour-plated, had jaws like scimitars, and underneath its body was a + forest of legs. Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it + crashing into the gulf. +

+

+ “What have I to offer, except my life?” Maskull suddenly broke + out. “And what good is that? It won’t bring that poor girl + back into the world.” +

+

+ “Sacrifice is not for utility. It’s a penalty which we pay.” +

+

+ “I know that.” +

+

+ “The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has + happened.” +

+

+ She waited for Maskull to come even with her. +

+

+ “Perhaps you imagine I’m not man enough—you imagine that + because I allowed poor Oceaxe to die for me—” +

+

+ “She did die for you,” said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic + voice. +

+

+ “That would be a second blunder of yours,” returned Maskull, + just as firmly. “I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I’m not in + love with life.” +

+

+ “Your life is not required.” +

+

+ “Then I don’t understand what you want, or what you are + speaking about.” +

+

+ “It’s not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That + would be compliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until + you feel there’s nothing else for you to do.” +

+

+ “It’s all very mysterious.” +

+

+ The conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful + crashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was + accompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they stood. + They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final disappearance + of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in front of them. + Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with all its teeming + animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic story. The new chasm + was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther edge the Alppain glow burned + blue just over the horizon. +

+

+ “Now we shall have to make a detour,” said Tydomin, halting. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of her with his third hand. “Listen to me, while + I try to describe what I’m feeling. When I saw that landslip, + everything I have heard about the last destruction of the world came into + my mind. It seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, and that the + world were really falling to pieces. Then, where the land was, we now have + this empty, awful gulf—that’s to say, nothing—and + it seems to me as if our life will come to the same condition, where there + was something there will be nothing. But that terrible blue glare on the + opposite side is exactly like the eye of fate. It accuses us, and demands + what we have made of our life, which is no more. At the same time, it is + grand and joyful. The joy consists in this—that it is in our power + to give freely what will later on be taken from us by force.” +

+

+ Tydomin watched him attentively. “Then your feeling is that your + life is worthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who asks?” +

+

+ “No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living + for is to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us. + Understand me. It isn’t cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but + heroism.... It’s hard to explain.” +

+

+ “Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It’s + a heavy one, but that’s what you seem to wish.” +

+

+ “That is so. In my present mood it can’t be too heavy.” +

+

+ “Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that + Crimtyphon’s dead, I’m tired of being a woman.” +

+

+ “I fail to comprehend.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish + to be a male. I see it isn’t worth while being a woman. I mean to + dedicate my own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine + together, and give them a common funeral in the burning lake. That’s + the sacrifice I offer you. As I said, it’s a hard one.” +

+

+ “So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is + difficult to understand.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t ask you to die. You will go on living.” +

+

+ “How is it possible without a body?” +

+

+ Tydomin gazed at him earnestly. “There are many such beings, even in + your world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. They are + in reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always longing to + act and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble-minded enough to + accept such a state, do you think?” +

+

+ “If it’s possible, I accept it,” replied Maskull + quietly. “Not in spite of its heaviness, but because of it. But how + is it possible?” +

+

+ “Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of + which you have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I don’t + hold you to your word, for unless it’s a free sacrifice I will have + nothing to do with it.” +

+

+ “I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, + you have my consent, once for all.” +

+

+ “Then we’ll leave it like that for the present,” said + Tydomin sadly. +

+

+ They proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed + rather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long + divergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly + formed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature, + insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against a + tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His + beardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in other + respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual type. + His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a sorb nor a + third arm—so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn. His forehead, + however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard assortment of + eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes. They went in pairs, + and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by a peculiar shining—the + rest remained dull, until their turn came. In addition to the upper eyes + he had the two lower ones, but they were vacant and lifeless. This + extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively alive and dead, gave the + young man an appearance of almost alarming mental activity. He was wearing + nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull seemed somehow to recognise the + face, though he had certainly never set eyes on it before. +

+

+ Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to rest + in the shade. +

+

+ “Question him, Maskull,” she said, rather carelessly, jerking + her head toward the stranger. +

+

+ Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, “What’s + your name, and where do you come from?” +

+

+ The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes, then + with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to Tydomin, + who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in a dry, manly, + nervous voice. “I am Digrung. I have arrived here from Matterplay.” + His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of whom he + reminded him. It was of Joiwind. +

+

+ “Perhaps you’re going to Poolingdred, Digrung?” he + inquired, interested. +

+

+ “As a matter of fact I am—if I can find my way out of this + accursed country.” +

+

+ “Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?” +

+

+ “She’s my sister. I’m on my way to see her now. Why, do + you know her?” +

+

+ “I met her yesterday.” +

+

+ “What is your name, then?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four + years. Is she well, and happy?” +

+

+ “Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?” +

+

+ “Her husband—yes. But where do you come from? I’ve seen + nothing like you before.” +

+

+ “From another world. Where is Matterplay?” +

+

+ “It’s the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea.” +

+

+ “What is it like there—how do you amuse yourselves? The same + old murders and sudden deaths?” +

+

+ “Are you ill?” asked Digrung. “Who is this woman, why + are you following at her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What’s + that corpse—why are you dragging it around the country with you?” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “I’ve already heard it said about Matterplay, + that if one sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately + springs up. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, Digrung?” +

+

+ “I don’t attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, + and I see insanity. That wouldn’t matter, but I don’t like to + see a man of intelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes.” +

+

+ “I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge + character. However, I don’t mind. Your opinion’s nothing to + me, Digrung. You’d better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his + own sake—but your feminine friend is sure to be curious about your + having been seen carrying a dead man.” +

+

+ Maskull’s underlip shot out. “Tell your sister nothing, + Digrung. Don’t mention my name at all. I don’t want her to + know about this meeting of ours.” +

+

+ “Why not?” +

+

+ “I don’t wish it—isn’t that enough?” +

+

+ Digrung looked impassive. +

+

+ “Thoughts and words,” he said, “which don’t + correspond with the real events of the world are considered most shameful + in Matterplay.” +

+

+ “I’m not asking you to lie, only to keep silent.” +

+

+ “To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can’t + accede to your wish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it.” +

+

+ Maskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example. +

+

+ She touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. “The + dead man is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you’ll + understand why he wishes you to hold your tongue.” +

+

+ “I guessed there was some foul play,” said Digrung. “It + doesn’t matter—I can’t falsify facts. Joiwind must know.” +

+

+ “You refuse to consider her feelings?” said Maskull, turning + pale. +

+

+ “Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on + realities, aren’t worth considering. But Joiwind’s are not of + that kind.” +

+

+ “If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without + seeing her; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting + when she hears your news.” +

+

+ “What are these strange relations between you?” demanded + Digrung, eying him with suddenly aroused suspicion. +

+

+ Maskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. “Good God! You don’t + doubt your own sister. That pure angel!” +

+

+ Tydomin caught hold of him delicately. “I don’t know Joiwind, + but, whoever she is and whatever she’s like, I know this—she’s + more fortunate in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really value + her happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or other.” +

+

+ “I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey.” +

+

+ “If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough.” +

+

+ Maskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. “I seem to be leaving + a wake of corpses behind me on this journey.” +

+

+ “Why a corpse? There’s no need to kill him.” +

+

+ “Thanks for that!” said Digrung dryly. “All the same, + some crime is about to burst. I feel it.” +

+

+ “What must I do, then?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very + interested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate + long. Don’t you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set + their feeble, obstinate wills against yours?” +

+

+ “That is a worse crime,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales.” +

+

+ Digrung laughed, but changed colour. “I was right then. The monster + has sprung into the light of day.” +

+

+ Maskull laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have the choice, and we + are not joking. Do as I ask.” +

+

+ “You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I + can’t talk to you. As for you, woman—sin must be like a + pleasant bath to you....” +

+

+ “There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a + passer-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you.” +

+

+ “Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are + legitimate and right.” +

+

+ “Do as you please,” said Tydomin. “If you come to grief, + your thoughts will hardly have corresponded with the real events of the + world, which is what you boast about. It is no affair of mine.” +

+

+ “I shall go on, and not back!” exclaimed Digrung, with angry + emphasis. +

+

+ Tydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. “Bear witness that I + have tried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick + decision in your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, + Digrung’s happiness or Joiwind’s. Digrung won’t allow + you to preserve them both.” +

+

+ “It won’t take me long to decide, Digrung, I gave you a last + chance to change your mind.” +

+

+ “As long as it’s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister + against her criminal friends.” +

+

+ Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. Instructed in + his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young man + tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet delight + immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he comprehended + the triumphant joys of “absorbing.” It satisfied the hunger of + the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung proved + feeble—he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly and + evenly into Maskull’s. The latter became strong and gorged. The + victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in + his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his + second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected + her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to + pick up Crimtyphon’s corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung’s + dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask. +

+

+ “Why hasn’t he altered?” he muttered to himself. +

+

+ Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot. + “He isn’t dead—that’s why. The expression you mean + is waiting for your death.” +

+

+ “Then is that my real character?” +

+

+ She laughed softly. “You came here to carve a strange world, and now + it appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there’s no doubt about it, + Maskull. You needn’t stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like + the rest of us. You are not a king, or a god.” +

+

+ “Since when have I belonged to him?” +

+

+ “What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of + Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and + strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed and + looking very grave. +

+

+ The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The + character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier + and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with + rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like a + mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the + intervening spaces were so wide—Tydomin, however, knew the way. The + intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape, + emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on + Maskull’s mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of + Disscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them. +

+

+ The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely + melted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood out + with terrific brilliance. They were directly beneath the bulk of the + mountain, which was not a mile away. It did not appear dangerous to climb, + but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay. +

+

+ It was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few + pale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, motionless + threads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. It was strewn with + detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks projected everywhere like iron + teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small black hole near the base, which might be + a cave. “That is where I live.” +

+

+ “You live here alone?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “It’s an odd choice for a woman—and you are not + unbeautiful, either.” +

+

+ “A woman’s life is over at twenty-five,” she replied, + sighing. “And I am far older than that. Ten years ago it would have + been I who lived yonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn’t have + happened.” +

+
+

+ A quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. It was + ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black. +

+

+ “Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun,” directed + Tydomin. He did so. +

+

+ She cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. “Does your resolution + still hold, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t it hold? My brains are not feathers.” +

+

+ “Follow me, then.” +

+

+ They both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening crash, + like heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull’s weakened + heart thumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, and dust, + swept past the cave entrance from above. If their going in had been + delayed by a single minute, they would have been killed. +

+

+ Tydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started + walking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold as ice. + At the first bend the light from the outer world disappeared, leaving them + in absolute blackness. Maskull kept stumbling over the uneven ground, but + she kept tight hold of him, and hurried him along. +

+

+ The tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the + atmosphere changed—or such was his impression. He was somehow led to + imagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin stopped, and + then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping hand encountered + stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered that it was a sort of + stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen inches from the ground. + She told him to lie down. +

+

+ “Has the time come?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ He lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to + happen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any gradation, + he lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer able to feel his + limbs or internal organs. His mind remained active and alert. Nothing + particular appeared to be taking place. +

+

+ Then the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He could + see nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He fancied that he + heard music, but while he was listening for it, it stopped. The light grew + stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the confused sound of distant + voices. +

+

+ Suddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone scream + faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything clearly. +

+

+ He was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, lighted by + electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, but by a man + dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face he was certainly + familiar, but under what circumstances he could not recall. Other people + stood in the background—they too were vaguely known to him. He sat + up and began to smile, without any especial reason; and then stood + upright. +

+

+ Everybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion—he + wondered why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in + particular he knew—the man at the farther end of the room, who paced + restlessly backward and forward, his face transfigured by stern, holy + grandeur; and that other big, bearded man—who was himself. + Yes—he was looking at his own double. But it was just as if a + crime-riddled man of middle age were suddenly confronted with his own + photograph as an earnest, idealistic youth. +

+

+ His other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not comprehend + the sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a short, + brutish-looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in an + extraordinary manner to everyone around him; and after that came straight + up to him—Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were + incomprehensible. A terrible expression came over the newcomer’s + face, and he grasped his neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull felt his + bones bending and breaking, excruciating pains passed through all the + nerves of his body, and he experienced a sense of impending death. He + cried out, and sank helplessly on the floor, in a heap. The chamber and + the company vanished—the light went out. +

+

+ Once more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this time + lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his hand. He + was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting for the + despairing anguish that filled his mind. +

+

+ Tydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. “Why are you back + so soon? I’ve not had time yet. You must return.” +

+

+ He caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a low + scream, as though in pain. “What does this mean—what are you + doing, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Krag—” began Maskull, but the effort to produce his + words choked him, so that he was obliged to stop. +

+

+ “Krag—what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my + arm.” +

+

+ He gripped her arm tighter. +

+

+ “Yes, I’ve seen Krag. I’m awake.” +

+

+ “Oh! You are awake, awake.” +

+

+ “And you must die,” said Maskull, in an awful voice. +

+

+ “But why? What has happened?...” +

+

+ “You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no + other reason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!” +

+

+ Tydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to + regain her self-possession. +

+

+ “You won’t offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?” +

+

+ “No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured + that you must die—you must expiate your fearful crimes.” +

+

+ “You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have + escaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come outside. + I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also been courteous + to you. I make no other supplication.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ BY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre was at + its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward—a long + succession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them the bright, + stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand feet or more. + Maskull’s eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; he was still + holding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to speak, or to get + away. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed. +

+

+ After gazing at the country for a long time in silence, he turned toward + her. “Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?” +

+

+ “It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?” +

+

+ “It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow + calmer, and that’s what I want. I wish you to understand that what + is going to happen is not a murder, but an execution.” +

+

+ “It will taste the same,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ “When I have gone out of this country, I don’t wish to feel + that I have left a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be + fair to others. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy death + for you.” +

+

+ She shrugged her shoulders. “We must wait till Blodsombre is over.” +

+

+ “Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we + will both be cool by evening. We must start at once.” +

+

+ “Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry + Crimtyphon?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her strangely. +

+

+ “I grudge no man his funeral.” +

+

+ She painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they stepped + out into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on the head. + Maskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no compassion + entered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman had done him. +

+

+ The way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its base. It + was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by cracks and water + gullies; they could see the water, but could not get at it. There was no + shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in their blood + seemed to dry up. +

+

+ Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil’s delight at Tydomin’s. + “Sing me a song!” he called out presently. “A + characteristic one.” +

+

+ She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without any + sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird. The + song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to ascertain whether + he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of the grotesque melody began + to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the words were pure nonsense—or + else their significance was too deep for him. +

+

+ “Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that + stuff, woman?” +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with ghastly + jerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with her two left + arms. “It’s a pity we could not have met as friends, Maskull. + I could have shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps you will never + see. The wild, mad side. But now it’s too late, and it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ They turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the western + base. +

+

+ “Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?” asked + Maskull. +

+

+ “It is easiest to go to Sant.” +

+

+ “Will we see it from anywhere?” +

+

+ “Yes, though it is a long way off.” +

+

+ “Have you been there?” +

+

+ “I am a woman, and interdicted.” +

+

+ “True. I have heard something of the sort.” +

+

+ “But don’t ask me any more questions,” said Tydomin, who + was becoming faint. +

+

+ Maskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made a cup + of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay down her + burden. The gnawl water acted like magic—it seemed to replenish all + the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty sponge pores, + sucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self-possession. +

+

+ About three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second + corner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn. +

+

+ A hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the + mountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with a + sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere + immediately over a furnace. +

+

+ “The lake is underneath,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country sloped + away in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a narrow path + channelled its way up through the rocks toward the towering summit of the + pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped + plateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was Sant—and + there and then he made up his mind that that should be his destination + that day. +

+

+ Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down Crimtyphon’s + body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined her; arrived at the + brink, he immediately flung himself at full length on his chest, to see + what could be seen of the lake of fire. A gust of hot, asphyxiating air + smote his face and set him coughing, but he did not get up until he had + stared his fill at the huge sea of green, molten lava, tossing and + swirling at no great distance below, like a living will. +

+

+ A faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he did so + his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his soul. All the + world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, and without + meaning.... +

+

+ He climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead + husband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and fondling his + violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the withered + lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all three arms, + she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and, after an + instant’s hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It + disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That was + Crimtyphon’s funeral. +

+

+ “Now I am ready, Maskull.” +

+

+ He did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing, erect + and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face was wan, and + there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew that it was a + phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at Poolingdred. +

+

+ “Turn around, Tydomin,” he said oddly, “and tell me what + you see behind you.” +

+

+ “I don’t see anything,” she answered, looking around. +

+

+ “But I see Joiwind.” +

+

+ Just as he was speaking, the apparition vanished. +

+

+ “Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it.” +

+

+ The woman fingered her chin thoughtfully. +

+

+ “I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of + my own sex—but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?” +

+

+ “I really saw Krag.” +

+

+ “Yes, some miracle must have taken place.” She suddenly + shivered. “Come, let us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come + here again.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Maskull, “it stinks of death and dying. But + where are we to go—what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get + away from this hellish land.” +

+

+ Tydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an abrupt, + bitter little laugh. “We make our journey together in singular + stages. Rather than be alone, I’ll come with you—but you know + that if I set foot in Sant they will kill me.” +

+

+ “At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it + possible?” +

+

+ “If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you + not take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it won’t + hold—your luck.” +

+

+ “Let us start,” said Maskull. “The luck I’ve had + so far is nothing to brag about.” +

+

+ Blodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but the + heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence at + conversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The land + fell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward Sant there + was a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau continued to + dominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour they seemed none the + nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant. +

+

+ By and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted + Maskull’s notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still + on, imbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches sprang + out, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to twigs and + leaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been artificially + fastened on, at equal distances from each other. +

+

+ As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity + and self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was so momentary + that he could be sure of nothing. +

+

+ “What may that be, Tydomin?” +

+

+ “It is Hator’s Trifork.” +

+

+ “And what is its purpose?” +

+

+ “It’s a guide to Sant.” +

+

+ “But who or what is Hator?” +

+

+ “Hator was the founder of Sant—many thousands of years ago. He + laid down the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol. + When I was a little child my father told me the legends, but I’ve + forgotten most of them.” +

+

+ Maskull regarded it attentively. +

+

+ “Does it affect you in any way?” +

+

+ “And why should it do that?” she said, dropping her lip + scornfully. “I am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries.” +

+

+ “A sort of gladness came over me,” said Maskull, “but + perhaps I am mistaken.” +

+

+ They passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid + parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and + more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The + peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a + different order of things. +

+

+ Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the + air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and began + to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree. Maskull, + who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following her example. + A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and body, his muscles + regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat with hard, slow, strong + throbs. +

+

+ “Food and body seem to agree well in this world,” he remarked + smiling. +

+

+ She glanced toward him. “Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, + but in your body.” +

+

+ “I brought my body with me.” +

+

+ “You brought your soul with you, but that’s altering fast, + too.” +

+

+ In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but + possessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles of a + cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry animal, + somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the most + extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to realise that + the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from branch to + branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned mouse is + thrown by a cat from paw to paw. +

+

+ He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest. +

+

+ “That’s a gruesome reversal of rôles, Tydomin.” +

+

+ “One can see you’re disgusted,” she replied, stifling a + yawn. “But that is because you are a slave to words. If you called + that plant an animal, you would find its occupation perfectly natural and + pleasing. And why should you not call it an animal?” +

+

+ “I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I + shall go on listening to this sort of language.” +

+

+ They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became + overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed + into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A + chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker, the + sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at himself, + Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a kind of + green hoarfrost. +

+

+ The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them, + against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts + gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and + self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were not + waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning. +

+

+ “Then they are dangerous?” +

+

+ “So we think,” she answered, watching them closely. +

+

+ “Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion.” +

+

+ Among the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking with + a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and Tydomin. + There was something unusual in his appearance—his form looked + extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real. +

+

+ “If there’s danger, he ought to be warned,” said + Maskull. +

+

+ “He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,” + returned the woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the + arm, and continued to watch. +

+

+ The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, but + turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the + proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full + height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He + seemed to be addressing the columns. +

+

+ While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a + series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He dropped + his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood still, + waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person grew more + and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be composed of + some substance heavier and denser than solid matter. +

+

+ Tydomin looked perplexed. +

+

+ “He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. + This is a day of days for me.” +

+

+ “He must be an individual of great importance,” murmured + Maskull. +

+

+ They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed + in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the wind, the + green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, + through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron. + There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting + chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were two flat + membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes were + expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stern + eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as + though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was + middle-aged. +

+

+ His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, every + object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin’s + person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and + Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening + fire began running through his veins. +

+

+ He turned to the woman. “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear + him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.” +

+

+ “Let Tydomin come too.” +

+

+ The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as + intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English. +

+

+ “You who know my name, also know my sex,” said Tydomin + quietly. “It is death for me to enter Sant.” +

+

+ “That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law.” +

+

+ “Is it so—and will it be accepted?” +

+

+ “The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming + underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.” +

+

+ The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood + talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked Maskull, with a beating heart. +

+

+ “My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean + of space, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter + of the despised sex, shall be my second.” +

+

+ “The new law? But what is it?” +

+

+ “Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both + of you, to me!” +

+

+ Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her sorb + and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes. When he + removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into twin + membranes like Spadevil’s own. +

+

+ Tydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while, + apparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her eyes + and, snatching up Spadevil’s hand, she bent over and kissed it + hurriedly many times. +

+

+ “My past has been bad,” she said. “Numbers have received + harm from me, and none good. I have killed—and worse. But now I can + throw all that away, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, + you and I have been fools together!” +

+

+ “Don’t you repent your crimes?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Leave the past alone,” said Spadevil, “it cannot be + reshaped. The future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this + very minute. Why do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?” +

+

+ “What is the name of those organs, and what is their function?” +

+

+ “They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new + world.” +

+

+ Maskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb. +

+

+ While the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law quietly + flowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream of clean water + which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive will. The law was duty. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their + own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his + eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him, but + his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external things + had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to whether they + served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or otherwise, they + had been pleasant or painful. Now these words “pleasure” and + “pain” simply had no meaning. +

+

+ The other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted with his + new mental outlook. He smiled at them. +

+

+ “You were quite right, Tydomin,” he said, in a bold, cheerful + voice. “We have been fools. So near the light all the time, and we + never guessed it. Always buried in the past or future—systematically + ignoring the present—and now it turns out that apart from the + present we have no life at all.” +

+

+ “Thank Spadevil for it,” she answered, more loudly than usual. +

+

+ Maskull looked at the man’s dark, concrete form. “Spadevil, + now I mean to follow you to the end. I can do nothing less.” +

+

+ The severe face showed no sign of gratification—not a muscle + relaxed. +

+

+ “Watch that you don’t lose your gift,” he said gruffly. +

+

+ Tydomin spoke. “You promised that I should enter Sant with you.” +

+

+ “Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, + but the truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us + journey together, all three of us.” +

+

+ The words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the fine, + driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He walked with a + long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order to keep up with him. + The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the middle. The fog was so dense + that it was impossible to see a hundred yards ahead. The ground was + covered by the green snow. The wind blew in gusts from the Sant highlands + and was piercingly cold. +

+

+ “Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He that is not more than a man is nothing.” +

+

+ “Where have you now come from?” +

+

+ “From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I + have brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after many + months’ absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me in + its simple splendour, like an upturned diamond.” +

+

+ “I see its shining,” said Maskull. “But how much does it + owe to ancient Hator?” +

+

+ “Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is + to me. Hator also was a brooder—but now his followers do not brood. + In Sant all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate pleasure, and + this hatred is the greatest pleasure to them.” +

+

+ “But in what way have they fallen off from Hator’s doctrines?” +

+

+ “For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare, + a limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, mocking + enemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of life, in order + to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the soul, he shielded + himself behind pain. This also his followers do, but they do not do + it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of vanity and pride.” +

+

+ “What is the Trifork?” +

+

+ “The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is + disentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is power + over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third fork is the + healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water.” +

+

+ “From what land did Hator come?” +

+

+ “It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many + legends told of him while there.” +

+

+ “We have a long way to go,” said Tydomin. “Relate some + of these legends, Spadevil.” +

+

+ The snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like a + phantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain. +

+

+ “In those days,” said Spadevil, “there existed in Ifdawn + a mountain island separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A + handsome girl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across + which men and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn Hator + on to this rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until it tumbled + into the depths below. ‘You and I, Hator, are now together, and + there is no means of separating. I wish to see how long the famous frost + man can withstand the breath, smiles and perfume of a girl.’ Hator + said no word, either then or all that day. He stood till sunset like a + tree trunk, and thought of other things. Then the girl grew passionate, + and shook her curls. She rose from where she was sitting she looked at + him, and touched his arm; but he did not see her. She looked at him, so + that all the soul was in her eyes; and then she fell down dead. Hator + awoke from his thoughts, and saw her lying, still warm, at his feet, a + corpse. He passed to the mainland; but how, it is not related.” +

+

+ Tydomin shuddered. “You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; + but your method is a nobler one.” +

+

+ “Don’t pity other women,” said Spadevil, “but love + the right. Hator also once conversed with Shaping.” +

+

+ “With the Maker of the World?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his + world, and tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. But + Hator, answering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, iron words, + showed how this joy and beauty was but another name for the bestiality of + souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping smiled, and said, ‘How + comes it that your wisdom is greater than that of the Master of wisdom?’ + Hator said, ‘My wisdom does not come from you, nor from your world, + but from that other world, which you, Shaping, have vainly tried to + imitate.’ Shaping replied, ‘What, then, do you do in my world?’ + Hator said, ‘I am here falsely, and therefore I am subject to your + false pleasures. But I wrap myself in pain—not because it is + good, but because I wish to keep myself as far from you as possible. For + pain is not yours, neither does it belong to the other world, but it is + the shadow cast by your false pleasures.’ Shaping then said, ‘What + is this faraway other world of which you say “This is so—this + is not so?” How happens it that you alone of all my creatures have + knowledge of it?’ But Hator spat at his feet, and said, ‘You + lie, Shaping. All have knowledge of it. You, with your pretty toys, alone + obscure it from our view.’ Shaping asked, ‘What, then, am I?’ + Hator answered, ‘You are the dreamer of impossible dreams.’ + And then the story goes that Shaping departed, ill pleased with what had + been said.” +

+

+ “What other world did Hator refer to?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here.” +

+

+ “Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference,” said + Maskull. “The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is + mean and corrupt-natured.” +

+

+ “Guard you your pride!” returned Spadevil. “Do not make + law for the universe and for all time, but for yourself and for this + small, false life of yours.” +

+

+ “In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?” + asked Tydomin. +

+

+ “He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last + hour. When he saw that death could not be staved off longer he determined + to destroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; not from vanity, + but that they might see to what lengths the human soul can go in its + perpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. Standing erect, without + support, he died by withholding his breath.” +

+

+ A silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds refused + to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their thoughts became + frozen. +

+

+ When Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued power, + Maskull’s curiosity rose once more. “Your fellow countrymen, + then, Spadevil, are sick with self-love?” +

+

+ “The men of other countries,” said Spadevil, “are the + slaves of pleasure and desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are + the slaves of pleasure and desire, not knowing it.” +

+

+ “And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has + something noble in it.” +

+

+ “He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as + well as body can a man enter into true life.” +

+

+ “On what grounds do they reject women?” +

+

+ “Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. + Love for another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore injurious to + him.” +

+

+ “A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe,” said + Maskull. “But will they allow it?” +

+

+ “Spadevil knows, Maskull,” said Tydomin, “that be it + today or be it tomorrow, love can’t be kept out of a land, even by + the disciples of Hator.” +

+

+ “Beware of love—beware of emotion!” exclaimed Spadevil. + “Love is but pleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, + but of serving them.” +

+

+ “Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine.” +

+

+ “Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you + are a woman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul.” +

+

+ “But where there are no women, there are no children,” said + Maskull. “How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?” +

+

+ “Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the + yearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all parts, in + order to have the scars of their souls healed.” +

+

+ “In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what + simple formula do you offer?” +

+

+ “Iron obedience to duty,” answered Spadevil. +

+

+ “And if they ask ‘How far is this consistent with hatred of + pleasure?’ what will your pronouncement be?” +

+

+ “I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the + question. Hatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark fires + of self. Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one side, calm and + undisturbed.” +

+

+ “What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, + in order to avoid it?” +

+

+ “Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise.” +

+

+ Later in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on Spadevil’s + arm. +

+

+ “Fearful doubts are in my mind,” she said. “This + expedition to Sant may turn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, + Spadevil, and myself lying dead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not + there.” +

+

+ “We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others + will raise it.” +

+

+ “Show me a sign that you are not as other men—so that I may + know that our blood will not be wasted.” +

+

+ Spadevil regarded her sternly. “I am not a magician. I don’t + persuade the senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, + Tydomin? Then go there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no farther. + Is not this simple? What signs are necessary?” +

+

+ “Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man + could have done that.” +

+

+ “Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man + can do another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open their + eyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my life. Will + you not still accompany me?” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Tydomin, “I will follow you to the end. It + is all the more essential, because I keep on displeasing you with my + remarks, and that means I have not yet learned my lesson properly.” +

+

+ “Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we + are thinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be + planning or shaping in our mind.” +

+

+ Tydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied. +

+

+ “Why was Maskull not in the picture?” she asked. +

+

+ “You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. + There is nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is only + right and wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does not matter. + We are not gods, constructing a world, but simple men and women, doing our + immediate duty. We may die in Sant—so you have seen it; but the + truth will go on living.” +

+

+ “Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?” + asked Maskull. “These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least + likely of any to follow a new light.” +

+

+ “Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no + tree at all can be found, nothing will grow.” +

+

+ “I understand you,” said Maskull. “Here perhaps we are + going to martyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to + cattle.” +

+

+ Shortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland plain, + above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A dizzy, + artificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand steps of + varying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to the angles of + the precipices, led to the world overhead. In the place where they stood + they were sheltered from the cutting winds. Branchspell, radiantly shining + at last, but on the point of sinking, filled the cloudy sky with violent, + lurid colors, some of the combinations of which were new to Maskull. The + circle of the horizon was so gigantic, that had he been suddenly carried + back to Earth, he would by comparison have fancied himself to be moving + beneath the dome of some little, closed-in cathedral. He realised that he + was on a foreign planet. But he was not stirred or uplifted by the + knowledge; he was conscious only of moral ideas. Looking backward, he saw + the plain, which for several miles past had been without vegetation, + stretching back away to Disscourn. So regular had been the ascent, and so + great was the distance, that the huge pyramid looked nothing more than a + slight swelling on the face of the earth. +

+

+ Spadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the evening + sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever before. His + features were set hard in grimness. +

+

+ He turned around to his companions. “What is the greatest wonder, in + all this wonderful scene?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Acquaint us,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure + to pleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping’s + world.” +

+

+ “There is another wonder,” said Tydomin, and she pointed her + finger toward the sky overhead. +

+

+ A small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five hundred + feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall of cliff. It + was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with downward-pointing + fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and one or two tiny cloudlets + beneath the fingers looked like falling drops of blood. +

+

+ “Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?” said + Tydomin. “I have been close to death twice today. The first time I + was ready, but now I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the + man who has given me my first happiness.” +

+

+ “Do not think of death, but of right persistence,” replied + Spadevil. “I am not here to tremble before Shaping’s portents; + but to snatch men from him.” +

+

+ He at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed + upward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her eyes. + Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull climbed last. He + was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but his soul was at peace. As + they steadily ascended the almost perpendicular stairs, the sun got higher + in the sky. Its light dyed their bodies a ruddy gold. +

+

+ They gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as far as + the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here and there by + large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand were reddened by + the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled by evil-shaped clouds + and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying across the desert, drove the + fine particles of sand painfully against their faces. +

+

+ “Where now do you take us?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to + me, that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find + Maulger.” +

+

+ “And where will you seek him, in this bare country?” +

+

+ Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly. +

+

+ “It is not so far,” he said. “It is his custom to be in + that part where Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be + there, but I cannot say.” +

+

+ Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles + beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness. +

+

+ “The woman is tired, Spadevil,” he said. +

+

+ She smiled. “It’s but another step into the land of death. I + can manage it. Give me your arm, Maskull.” +

+

+ He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way. +

+

+ “The sun is now sinking,” said Maskull. “Will we get + there before dark?” +

+

+ “Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil + in your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall + arrive before dark.” +

+

+ The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the + western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid + colors. The wind grew colder. +

+

+ They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of which + were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was hard, + bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but he felt + braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other trees or + shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds or insects. + It was a desolate land. +

+

+ A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the plateau. + Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began. But + daylight had vanished there; Maskull’s eyes rested only on a vague + darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of + innumerable treetops. +

+

+ In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was + standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from + their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to + the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in the + mud close by his hand. +

+

+ They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became + aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out of + the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so. +

+

+ “This is not Maulger, but Catice,” said Spadevil. +

+

+ “Maulger is dead,” said Catice, speaking the same tongue as + Spadevil, but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull’s + ear was affected painfully. +

+

+ The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in years. + He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long and heavy, but + his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, lemon-coloured, and + anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of longitudinal ruts, a + quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which seemed clogged with ancient + dirt. The hair of his head was black and sparse. Instead of the twin + membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed but one; and this was in the + centre of his brow. +

+

+ Spadevil’s dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality + among dreams. +

+

+ “Has the trifork passed to you?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?” +

+

+ “I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith.” +

+

+ Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. “State it.” +

+

+ “Shall I speak with many words, or few words?” +

+

+ “If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. + If you wish to say what is, a few words will be enough.” +

+

+ Spadevil frowned. +

+

+ “To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill + pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is + planning right action, it has no time to think of pleasure.” +

+

+ “Is that the whole?” asked Catice. +

+

+ “The truth is simple, even for the simplest man.” +

+

+ “Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?” +

+

+ “I destroy nature, and set up law.” +

+

+ A long silence followed. +

+

+ “My probe is double,” said Spadevil. “Suffer me to + double yours, and you will see as I see.” +

+

+ “Come you here, you big man!” said Catice to Maskull. Maskull + advanced a step closer. +

+

+ “Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?” +

+

+ “As far as death,” exclaimed Maskull. +

+

+ Catice picked up a flint. “With this stone I strike out one of your + two probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will + recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall + obey your choice.” +

+

+ “Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men,” + said Spadevil. +

+

+ “The pain is nothing,” replied Maskull, “but I fear the + result.” +

+

+ “Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,” + said Tydomin, stretching out her hand. +

+

+ He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to + thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. “What brings this + kiss-lover to Sant?” he said. “How does she presume to make + the rules of life for the sons of Hator?” +

+

+ She bit her lip, and stepped back. “Well then, Maskull, accept! I + certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can.” +

+

+ “If he bids me, I must do it,” said Maskull. “But who + knows what will come of it?” +

+

+ Spadevil spoke. “Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most + wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking me + a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed will + escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men will know + that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here will live to + see that.” +

+

+ Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice + raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, brought + it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. Maskull cried + out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the function of the organ + was destroyed. +

+

+ There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the + blood. +

+

+ “What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?” inquired + Tydomin anxiously. +

+

+ He stopped, and stared hard at her. “I now see straight,” he + said slowly. +

+

+ “What does that mean?” +

+

+ He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled. + “Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and + refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same.” +

+

+ Spadevil gazed at him sternly. “Do you renounce my teaching?” +

+

+ Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil’s + image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he + knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect. +

+

+ “It is false.” +

+

+ “Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?” demanded + Tydomin. +

+

+ “I can’t argue as yet,” said Maskull. “At this + moment the world with its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I + feel a loathing for everything in it, including myself. I know no more.” +

+

+ “Is there no duty?” asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone. +

+

+ “It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of + other people.” +

+

+ Tydomin pulled at Spadevil’s arm. “Maskull has betrayed you, + as he has so many others. Let us go.” +

+

+ He stood fast. “You have changed quickly, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. “Why do men go on + living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?” +

+

+ “Pain is the native air of Surtur’s children. To what other + air do you wish to escape?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s children? Is not Surtur Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping’s masterpiece.” +

+

+ “Answer, Maskull!” said Spadevil. “Do you repudiate + right action?” +

+

+ “Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. + I wish you no harm.” +

+

+ The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence. +

+

+ Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. “The woman + must return home,” he said. +

+

+ “She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, + must die—backslider as you are!” +

+

+ Tydomin said quietly, “He has no power to enforce this. Are you + going to allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?” +

+

+ “It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from + death. Catice, I accept your judgment.” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, + so I shall die with him.” +

+

+ Catice said to Maskull, “Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his + mistress, according to the laws of Hator.” +

+

+ “I can’t do that. I have travelled in friendship with them.” +

+

+ “You denied duty; and now you must do your duty,” said + Spadevil, calmly stroking his beard. “Whatever law you accept, you + must obey, without turning to right or left. Your law commands that we + must be stoned; and it will soon be dark.” +

+

+ “Have you not even this amount of manhood?” exclaimed Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull moved heavily. “Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was + forced on me.” +

+

+ “Hator is looking on, and approving,” replied Catice. +

+

+ Maskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side of + the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments of rock, + the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in his arms, he + staggered back. +

+

+ He dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. When he + could speak again, he said, “I have a bad heart for the business. Is + there no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, and in the morning go + back to where you have come from. No one shall harm you.” +

+

+ Spadevil’s ironic smile was lost in the gloom. +

+

+ “Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after + that come back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose + the heavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin.” +

+

+ Maskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces. Spadevil + confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly. +

+

+ The huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a dark + shadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his features, and + breaking his neck. He died instantaneously. +

+

+ Tydomin looked away from the fallen man. +

+

+ “Be very quick, Maskull, and don’t let me keep him waiting.” +

+

+ He panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front of + Spadevil’s body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold. +

+

+ The blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull went to + her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his arms. There she + breathed out her last sighs. +

+

+ After that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands, while + he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic, spiritual + expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman came like a + flash; but he saw it. +

+

+ He stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him. +

+

+ “Is that the true likeness of Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is Shaping stripped of illusion.” +

+

+ “How comes this horrible world to exist?” +

+

+ Catice did not answer. +

+

+ “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here.” +

+

+ “I am wading through too much blood,” said Maskull. “Nothing + good can come of it.” +

+

+ “Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy.” +

+

+ Maskull meditated. +

+

+ “Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you + really have accepted his faith?” +

+

+ “He was a great-souled man,” replied Catice. “I see that + the pride of our men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I + too shall leave Sant, to reflect on all this.” +

+

+ Maskull shuddered. “Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but + a crime!” +

+

+ “His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged + down his ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, stranger, + but go away at once out of the land.” +

+

+ “Tonight? Where shall I go?” +

+

+ “To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you + on the way.” +

+

+ He linked his arm in Maskull’s, and they walked away into the night. + For a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind was + searching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of the + clouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no familiar + constellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was visible, and if so + which one it was. +

+

+ They came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the cliffside. It + resembled the one by which he had come up; but this descended to the + Wombflash Forest. +

+

+ “That is your path,” said Catice, “and I shall not come + any farther.” +

+

+ Maskull detained him. “Say just this, before we part company—why + does pleasure appear so shameful to us?” +

+

+ “Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home.” +

+

+ “And that is—” +

+

+ “Muspel,” answered Catice. +

+

+ Having made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back, + disappeared into the darkness. +

+

+ Maskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired, but + contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to discharge matter. + He lowered himself from step to step during what seemed an interminable + time. The rustling and sighing of the trees grew louder as he approached + the bottom; the air became still and warm. Inky blackness was all around + him. +

+
+

+ He at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he began to + trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After this had happened + a few times, he determined to go no farther that night. He heaped together + some dry leaves for a pillow, and immediately flung himself down to sleep. + Deep and heavy unconsciousness seized him almost instantly. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ He awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on his + side, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like night, but + that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to break and objects + begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or three amazing shadowy + shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of the twilight. He did not + realise that they were trees, until he turned over on his back and + followed their course upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared not + calculate the height, he saw their tops glittering in the sunlight, + against a tiny patch of blue sky. +

+

+ Clouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept interrupting + his view. In their silent passage they were like phantoms flitting among + the trees. The leaves underneath him were sodden, and heavy drops of + moisture splashed onto his head from time to time. +

+

+ He continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the + preceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something terrible + had happened, but what it was he could not for a long time recollect. Then + suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at dusk on + the Sant plateau—Spadevil’s crushed and bloody features and + Tydomin’s dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick. +

+

+ The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had + departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had + done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have been + labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had enslaved + him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They had forced him + to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had imagined that he + was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger. What was this nightmare + journey for—and would it continue, in the same way?... +

+

+ The silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound except the + pumping of blood through his arteries. +

+

+ Putting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had + disappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third eye was + on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not guess its use. + He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless. +

+

+ Now he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to recall + that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice. +

+

+ He got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no toilet to + make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. The nearest tree + appeared to him to have a circumference of at least a hundred feet. Other + dim boles looked equally large. But what gave the scene its aspect of + immensity was the vast spaces separating tree from tree. It was like some + gigantic, supernatural hall in a life after death. The lowest branches + were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was no underbrush; the + soil was carpeted only by the dead, wet leaves. He looked all around him, + to find his direction, but the cliffs of Sant, which he had descended, + were invisible—every way was like every other way, he had no idea + which quarter to attack. He grew frightened, and muttered to himself. + Craning his neck back, he stared upward and tried to discover the points + of the compass from the direction of the sunlight, but it was impossible. +

+

+ While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum + taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen + drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him. +

+

+ “Surtur!” he said, under his breath. The next moment he + marvelled at himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not + been in his thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him + and the drumming. +

+

+ He began to reflect—but in the meantime the sounds were travelling + away. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum + beats had this peculiarity—though odd and mystical, there was + nothing awe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of + some place and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again + they caused all his other sense impressions to appear false. +

+

+ The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for five + minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull followed + them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge, indistinct trees, + in the attempt to come up with the origin of the noise, but the same + distance always seemed to separate them. The forest from now onward + descended. The gradient was mostly gentle—about one foot in ten—but + in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts again it was + practically level ground for quite long stretches. There were great swampy + marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash. It was a matter of + indifference to him how wet he became—if only he could catch sight + of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was covered, and still + he was no nearer to doing so. +

+

+ The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt despondent, + tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some while, and was + half inclined to discontinue the pursuit. +

+

+ Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against a + man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against the trunk + with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was resting on a + staff. Maskull stopped short and stared at him. +

+

+ He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a + head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes—three + in number—were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin + was hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils, + and fastened like a woman’s. His features were absolutely tranquil, + but a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Did the drumming come from you?” +

+

+ The man shook his head. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ He replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered that + the name he gave was “Dreamsinter.” +

+

+ “What is that drumming?” +

+

+ “Surtur,” said Dreamsinter. +

+

+ “Is it advisable for me to follow it?” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face. + “Not you, but Nightspore.” +

+

+ This was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore’s name + since his arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could frame + no more questions. +

+

+ “Eat this,” said Dreamsinter. “Then we will chase the + sound together.” He picked something up from the ground and handed + it to Maskull. He could not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round + nut, of the size of a fist. +

+

+ “I can’t crack it.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. Maskull + then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely disagreeable. +

+

+ “What am I doing in Tormance, then?” he asked. +

+

+ “You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men—never + doubting if your soul could endure that burning.” +

+

+ Maskull could hardly decipher the strangled words. +

+

+ “Muspel.... That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember + ever since I awoke.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen for + something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet. +

+

+ “Is it the drumming?” +

+

+ “Hush! They come.” +

+

+ He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm was + heard—this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet. +

+

+ Maskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, three men + in single file separated from one another by only a yard or so. They were + travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked neither to left nor + right. They were naked. Their figures were shining against the black + background of the forest with a pale, supernatural light—green and + ghostly. When they were abreast of him, about twenty feet off, he + perceived who they were. The first man was himself—Maskull. The + second was Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their faces were grim and + set. +

+

+ The source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to come + from some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves + in motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. At the same time a + low, faint music began. +

+

+ Its rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it did not + seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. It resembled + the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies the dreamer + everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering all his experiences + emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly orchestra, and was + strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull marched, and listened; and + as he listened, it grew louder and stormier. But the pulse of the drum + interpenetrated all the other sounds, like the quiet beating of reality. +

+

+ His emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours were + passing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way ahead, on a path + parallel with his own and Dreamsinter’s. The music pulsated + violently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, murderous-looking + knife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the phantom Maskull’s + back, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the wound the second time. + Maskull threw up his arms, and fell down dead. Krag leaped into the forest + and vanished from sight. Nightspore marched on alone, stern and unmoved. +

+

+ The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was roaring + with sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from the ground + under their feet. It was so grandly passionate that Maskull felt his soul + loosening from its bodily envelope. +

+

+ He continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to glow in + front of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as he had never + seen before, and such as he could not have imagined to be possible. + Nightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his chest bursting. The + light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of the music followed hard one + upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was + incapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over in + a faint that resembled death. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and + opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent in the + forest. The strange light had gone, the music had ceased, Dreamsinter had + vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin’s blood, and + fell into a deep muse. +

+

+ “According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. + Perhaps Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a + specimen of his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my question.... + I ought not to have asked about myself, but about Surtur. Then I would + have got a different answer. I might have learned something... I might + have seen him.” +

+

+ He remained quiet and apathetic for a bit. +

+

+ “But I couldn’t face that awful glare,” he proceeded. + “It was bursting my body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does + really exist, and my journey stands for something. But why am I here, and + what can I do? Who is Surtur? Where is he to be found?” +

+

+ Something wild came into his eyes. +

+

+ “What did Dreamsinter mean by his ‘Not you, but Nightspore’? + Am I a secondary character—is he regarded as important; and I as + unimportant? Where is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to wait for + his time and pleasure—can I originate nothing?” +

+

+ He continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs. +

+

+ “I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the + strangest things will happen in it. It’s no use making plans, for I + can’t see two steps ahead—everything is unknown. But one thing’s + evident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and I + must sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur shows + himself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means death.” +

+

+ Through the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came again. + The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the last + mutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, without + getting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not return. +

+

+ He smiled queerly, and said aloud, “Thanks, Surtur! I accept the + omen.” +

+

+ When he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that had + been his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every movement of his + body. He made perforations in it all around, as close to his chest as + possible, with the fingernails of both hands; then he carefully twisted it + off. In that world of rapid growth and ungrowth he judged that the stump + would soon disappear. After that, he rose and peered into the darkness. +

+

+ The forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking twice + about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it would bring + him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper became gloomy and + morose—he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid with hunger; + moreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be a short one. Be + that as it may, he determined to sit down no more until the whole dismal + forest was at his back. +

+

+ One after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, avoided, and + passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky was still always + visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of day. He continued + tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, slippery miles—in + some places through bogs. When, presently, the twilight seemed to thin, he + guessed that the open world was not far away. The forest grew more + palpable and grey, and now he saw its majesty better. The tree trunks were + like round towers, and so wide were the intervals that they resembled + natural amphitheatres. He could not make out the colour of the bark. + Everything he saw amazed him, but his admiration was of the growling, + grudging kind. The difference in light between the forest behind him and + the forest ahead became so marked that he could no longer doubt that he + was on the point of coming out. +

+

+ Real light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a shadow. + The trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. As the minutes + went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and vivid; it had a tinge of + blue. He also imagined that he heard the sound of surf. +

+

+ All that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich with + colour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their leaves, + high above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the ground were + of a colour he could not name. At the same time he discovered the use of + his third eye. By adding a third angle to his sight, every object he + looked at stood out in greater relief. The world looked less flat—more + realistic and significant. He had a stronger attraction toward his + surroundings; he seemed somehow to lose his egotism, and to become free + and thoughtful. +

+

+ Now through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a mile + separated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to discover what + lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf louder. It was a + peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from water, yet was unlike + the sea. Almost immediately he came within sight of an enormous horizon of + dancing waves, which he knew must be the Sinking Sea. He fell back into a + quick walk, continuing to stare hard. The wind that met him was hot, fresh + and sweet. +

+

+ When he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide sands + of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his back to a + great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in front of him. + The sands continued east and west in a straight line, broken only here and + there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant orange colour, but there + were patches of violet. The forest appeared to stand sentinel over the + shore for its entire length. Everything else was sea and sky—he had + never seen so much water. The semicircle of the skyline was so vast that + he might have imagined himself on a flat world, with a range of vision + determined only by the power of his eye. The sea was unlike any sea on + Earth. It resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body colour of rich, + magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and blue were + everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was extraordinary. + Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they attained a height of + perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would suddenly sink downward and + outward, creating in their descent a series of concentric rings for long + distances around them. Quickly moving currents, like rivers in the sea, + could be seen, racing away from land; they were of a darker green and bore + no pinnacles. Where the sea met the shore, the waves rushed over the sands + far in, with almost sinister rapidity—accompanied by a weird, + hissing, spitting sound, which was what Maskull had heard. The green + tongues rolled in without foam. +

+

+ About twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a long, + low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished in outline. + It was Swaylone’s Island. Maskull was less interested in that than + in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain had set, but the + whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by its afterlight. + Branchspell in the zenith was white and overpowering, the day was + cloudless and terrifically hot; but where the blue sun had sunk, a sombre + shadow seemed to overhang the world. Maskull had a feeling of + disintegration—just as if two chemically distinct forces were + simultaneously acting upon the cells of his body. Since the afterglow of + Alppain affected him like this, he thought it more than likely that he + would never be able to face that sun itself, and go on living. Still, some + modification might happen to him that would make it possible. +

+

+ The sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once walked + toward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow line of the + forest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on him so savagely + that for a few minutes he felt sick and his head swam. He trod quickly + across the sands. The orange-coloured parts were nearly hot enough to + roast food, he judged, but the violet parts were like fire itself. He + stepped on a patch in ignorance, and immediately jumped high into the air + with a startled yell. +

+

+ The sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he + determined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin garment, + washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the sun to dry. + Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed out his beard and + hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until the water reached his + breast, and took to swimming—avoiding the spouts as far as possible + He found it no pastime. The water was everywhere of unequal density. In + some places he could swim, in others he could barely save himself from + drowning, in others again he could not force himself beneath the surface + at all. There were no outward signs to show what the water ahead held in + store for him. The whole business was most dangerous. +

+

+ He came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up and + down the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking around him. + He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical world, and whichever + way he turned, unknown and threatening forces were glaring at him. The + gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the awful, body-changing Alppain, + the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, the dark and eerie Swaylone’s + Island, the spirit-crushing forest out of which he had just escaped—to + all these mighty powers, surrounding him on every side, what resources had + he, a feeble, ignorant traveller from a tiny planet on the other side of + space, to oppose, to avoid being utterly destroyed?... Then he smiled to + himself. “I’ve already been here two days, and still I + survive. I have luck—and with that one can balance the universe. But + what is luck—a verbal expression, or a thing?” +

+

+ As he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to him, + and this time he was grave. “Surtur brought me here, and Surtur is + watching over me. That is my ‘luck.’... But what is Surtur in + this world?... How is he able to protect me against the blind and + ungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature?...” +

+

+ Hungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, for he + wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself which way he + should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along the shore, either + east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, cutting the sands about a + mile away. He walked toward it. +

+

+ The forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so squarely + turned to the sea that it looked as though it had been planed by tools. + Maskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but kept his head + constantly turned away from them, toward the sea—there it was more + cheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to be broad and + flat-banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. Its still, dark + green water curved around a bend out of sight, into the forest. The trees + on both banks overhung the water, so that it was completely in shadow. +

+

+ He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared. A + man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water. He + was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He was + short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms, + terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face was + plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and + walnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough and + leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there was no + trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling. He + possessed three eyes, of different colors—jade-green, blue, and + ulfire. +

+

+ In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an + elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded + together. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Are you another of the wise men of the + Wombflash Forest?” +

+

+ The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so. + “I’m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.” +

+

+ “What name do you go by?” +

+

+ “Polecrab. What’s yours?” +

+

+ “Maskull. If you’re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I’m + famishing.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. +

+

+ “There’s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. + It’s easy enough to get you some more.” +

+

+ Maskull found this a pleasant speech. +

+

+ “But how long will it take?” he asked. +

+

+ The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, + screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto + the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to + his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It was + about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had six + legs, ending in strong claws. +

+

+ “Arg, go fish!” said Polecrab hoarsely. +

+

+ The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam + gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath the + surface, where it remained a great while. +

+

+ “Simple fishing,” remarked Maskull. “But what’s + the raft for?” +

+

+ “To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.” +

+

+ “That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted again. “I’ve trained close on a hundred of + them. The bigheads learn best, but they’re slow swimmers. The + narrowheads swim like eels, but can’t be taught. Now I’ve + started interbreeding them—he’s one of them.” +

+

+ “Do you live here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I’ve got a wife and three boys. My wife’s sleeping + somewhere, but where the lads are, Shaping knows.” +

+

+ Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being. +

+

+ “The raft’s all crazy,” he remarked, staring at it. + “If you go far out in that, you’ve got more pluck than I have.” +

+

+ “I’ve been to Matterplay on it,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time clumsily, + as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When it landed at + its master’s feet, they saw that each set of claws was clutching a + fish—six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded to cut off + the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked up; these he + threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss. +

+

+ Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, walked + toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When they reached + the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and digging a shallow + hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder of the carcasses in + it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his own dinner. Maskull’s + nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was not yet to dine. +

+

+ Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, “These + are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me, + supposing you want company.” +

+

+ “How soon will that be?” +

+

+ “About twenty minutes,” replied the fisherman, over his + shoulder. +

+

+ Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When + the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching his + fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the sand + which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to Polecrab. +

+

+ In the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched in + silence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back again. + With every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He finished + before Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no value. When he + had done, he stood up. +

+

+ “Come and drink,” he said, in his husky voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked at him inquiringly. +

+

+ The man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up to a + certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had been tapped + and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth to the aperture, + sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its mother’s breast. + Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his eyes growing brighter. +

+

+ When his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree somewhat + like coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a new sort of + intoxication, however, for neither his will not his emotions were excited, + but only his intellect—and that only in a certain way. His thoughts + and images were not freed and loosened, but on the contrary kept labouring + and swelling painfully, until they reached the full beauty of an aperçu, + which would then flame up in his consciousness, burst, and vanish. After + that, the whole process started over again. But there was never a moment + when he was not perfectly cool, and master of his senses. When each had + drunk twice, Polecrab replugged the hole, and they returned to their bank. +

+

+ “Is it Blodsombre yet?” asked Maskull, sprawling on the + ground, well content. +

+

+ Polecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in the + water. “Just beginning,” was his hoarse response. +

+

+ “Then I must stay here till it’s over.... Shall we talk?” +

+

+ “We can,” said the other, without enthusiasm. +

+

+ Maskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were + exactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a wise + light. +

+

+ “Have you travelled much, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “Not what you would call travelling.” +

+

+ “You tell me you’ve been to Matterplay—what kind of + country is that?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. I went there to pick up flints.” +

+

+ “What countries lie beyond it?” +

+

+ “Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it’s a land of + mystics... I don’t know.” +

+

+ “Mystics?” +

+

+ “So I’m told.... Still farther north there’s Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Now we’re going far afield.” +

+

+ “There are mountains there—and altogether it must be a very + dangerous place, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take care of + yourself.” +

+

+ “This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I’m going + there?” +

+

+ “As you’ve come from the south, I suppose you’ll go + north.” +

+

+ “Well, that’s right enough,” said Maskull, staring hard + at him. “But how do you know I’ve come from the south?” +

+

+ “Well, then, perhaps you haven’t—but there’s a + look of Ifdawn about you.” +

+

+ “What kind of look?” +

+

+ “A tragical look,” said Polecrab. He never even glanced at + Maskull, but was gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes. +

+

+ “What lies beyond Lichstorm?” asked Maskull, after a minute or + two. +

+

+ “Barey, where you have two suns instead of one—but beyond that + fact I know nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean.” +

+

+ “And what’s on the other side of the ocean?” +

+

+ “That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has + ever crossed it and come back.” +

+

+ Maskull was silent for a little while. +

+

+ “How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the + only one travelling from curiosity.” +

+

+ “What do you mean by ‘your people’?” +

+

+ “True—you don’t know that I don’t belong to your + planet at all. I’ve come from another world, Polecrab.” +

+

+ “What to find?” +

+

+ “I came here with Krag and Nightspore—to follow Surtur. I must + have fainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the + others had vanished. Since then I’ve been travelling at random.” +

+

+ Polecrab scratched his nose. “You haven’t found Surtur yet?” +

+

+ “I’ve heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this + morning I came quite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, + I saw a vision—a being in man’s shape, who called himself + Surtur.” +

+

+ “Well, maybe it was Surtur.” +

+

+ “No, that’s impossible,” replied Maskull reflectively. + “It was Crystalman. And it isn’t a question of my suspecting + it—I know it.” +

+

+ “How?” +

+

+ “Because this is Crystalman’s world, and Surtur’s world + is something quite different.” +

+

+ “That’s queer, then,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ “Since I’ve come out of that forest,” proceeded Maskull, + talking half to himself, “a change has come over me, and I see + things differently. Everything here looks much more solid and real in my + eyes than in other places so much so that I can’t entertain the + least doubt of its existence. It not only looks real, it is + real—and on that I would stake my life.... But at the same time that + it’s real, it is false.” +

+

+ “Like a dream?” +

+

+ “No—not at all like a dream, and that’s just what I want + to explain. This world of yours—and perhaps of mine too, for that + matter—doesn’t give me the slightest impression of a dream, or + an illusion, or anything of that sort. I know it’s really here at + this moment, and it’s exactly as we’re seeing it, you and I. + Yet it’s false. It’s false in this sense, Polecrab. Side by + side with it another world exists, and that other world is the true one, + and this one is all false and deceitful, to the very core. And so it + occurs to me that reality and falseness are two words for the same thing.” +

+

+ “Perhaps there is such another world,” said Polecrab huskily. + “But did that vision also seem real and false to you?” +

+

+ “Very real, but not false then, for then I didn’t understand + all this. But just because it was real, it couldn’t have been + Surtur, who has no connection with reality.” +

+

+ “Didn’t those drum taps sound real to you?” +

+

+ “I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. + Still, they were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. + If I didn’t hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his.” +

+

+ Polecrab growled a little. “If Surtur chooses to speak to you in + that fashion, it appears he’s trying to say something.” +

+

+ “What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what’s your opinion—is + he calling me to the life after death?” +

+

+ The old man stirred uneasily. “I’m a fisherman,” he + said, after a minute or two. “I live by killing, and so does + everybody. This life seems to me all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is + wrong, and Surtur’s world is not life at all, but something else.” +

+

+ “Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?” +

+

+ “Ask the dead,” said Polecrab, “and not a living man.” +

+

+ Maskull continued. “In the forest I heard music and saw a light, + which could not have belonged to this world. They were too strong for my + senses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a vision as + well, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked on toward the + light, alone.” +

+

+ Polecrab uttered his grunt. “You have enough to think over.” +

+

+ A short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull. +

+

+ “So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it + may come to my putting an end to myself.” The fisherman remained + quiet and immobile. +

+

+ Maskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared at + him. “What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, while + in the body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I have done?” +

+

+ “I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can’t say. Perhaps there + are many others like you who would gladly know.” +

+

+ “Where? I should like to meet them.” +

+

+ “Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of + another stuff?” +

+

+ “I can’t be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out + toward Muspel, in most cases without being aware of it.” +

+

+ “In the wrong direction,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ Maskull gave him a strange look. “How so?” +

+

+ “I don’t speak from my own wisdom,” said Polecrab, + “for I have none; but I have just now recalled what Broodviol once + told me, when I was a young man, and he was an old one. He said that + Crystalman tries to turn all things into one, and that whichever way his + shapes march, in order to escape from him, they find themselves again face + to face with Crystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this + marching of shapes (which we call ‘forking’) springs from the + unconscious desire to find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction to the + right one. For Surtur’s world does not lie on this side of the one, + which was the beginning of life, but on the other side; and to get to it + we must repass through the one. But this can only be by renouncing our + self-life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of Crystalman’s + world. And when this has been done, it is only the first stage of the + journey; though many good men imagine it to be the whole journey.... As + far as I can remember, that is what Broodviol said, but perhaps, as I was + then a young and ignorant man, I may have left out words which would + explain his meaning better.” +

+

+ Maskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained thoughtful at + the end. +

+

+ “It’s plain enough,” he said. “But what did he + mean by our reuniting ourselves to Crystalman’s world? If it is + false, are we to make ourselves false as well?” +

+

+ “I didn’t ask him that question, and you are as well qualified + to answer it as I am.” +

+

+ “He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a + false, private world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and + distorted perceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly lose + nothing in truth and reality.” +

+

+ Polecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and stretched + his limbs. +

+

+ “I have told you all I know,” he said in a surly voice. + “Now let me go to sleep.” +

+

+ Maskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man let + himself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest. +

+

+ While he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall + sounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest. + Maskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at once + guessed that it was Polecrab’s wife. He sat up, but the fisherman + did not stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, looking down from + what appeared a great height. +

+

+ Her dress was similar to her husband’s, but covered her limbs more. + She was young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was lightly + tanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. Refinement was + stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of expression for a + woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great eyes kept flashing and + glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow hair, coiled up and + fastened, but so carelessly that some of the strands were flowing down her + back. +

+

+ When she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and + shades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far away + from it. +

+

+ “Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation,” she + said, addressing Maskull. “I was resting behind the tree, and heard + it all.” +

+

+ He got up slowly. “Are you Polecrab’s wife?” +

+

+ “She is my wife,” said Polecrab, “and her name is + Gleameil. Sit down again, stranger—and you too, wife, since you are + here.” +

+

+ They both obeyed. “I heard everything,” repeated Gleameil. + “But what I did not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after + you have left us.” +

+

+ “I know no more than you do.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. There’s only one place for you to go to, and + that is Swaylone’s Island. I will ferry you across myself before + sunset.” +

+

+ “What shall I find there?” +

+

+ “He may go, wife,” put in the old man hoarsely, “but I + won’t allow you to go. I will take him over myself.” +

+

+ “No, you have always put me off,” said Gleameil, with some + emotion. “This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and + I sit on the shore here, listening to Earthrid’s music travelling + faintly across the sea, I am tortured—I can’t endure it.... I + have long since made up my mind to go to the island, and see what this + music is. If it’s bad, if it kills me—well.” +

+

+ “What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I think the music will answer all your questions better than + Polecrab has done—and possibly in a way that will surprise you.” +

+

+ “What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the + sea?” +

+

+ “A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the + man that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up + the most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.” +

+

+ “That may be so,” growled Polecrab. “But I have been to + the island by daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and + ancient. Those are Earthrid’s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.” +

+

+ “But will that music play tonight?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. “When + Teargeld rises, which is our moon.” +

+

+ “If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death + is due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as + for taking you with me, Gleameil—women die too easily in Tormance. I + have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another + woman.” +

+

+ Gleameil laughed, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Now go to sleep,” said Polecrab. “When the time comes, + I will take you across myself.” +

+

+ He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example; but + Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her. +

+

+ “Who was that other woman, Maskull?” she asked presently. +

+

+ He did not answer, but pretended to sleep. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late + afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another meal + of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him. +

+

+ “Is it decided who is to go with me?” he asked, before sitting + down. +

+

+ “I go,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ “Do you agree, Polecrab?” +

+

+ The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others to + take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering. +

+

+ “Something strong is attracting her, and I can’t hold her + back. I don’t think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are + now nearly old enough to fend for themselves.” +

+

+ “Don’t take dejected views,” replied Gleameil sternly. + She was not eating. “I shall come back, and make amends to you. It’s + only for a night.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. “Let me go alone. + I would be sorry if anything happened.” +

+

+ Gleameil shook her head. +

+

+ “Don’t regard this as a woman’s caprice,” she + said. “Even if you hadn’t passed this way, I would have heard + that music soon. I have a hunger for it.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you any such feeling, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are + attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she + is set on it. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps Earthrid’s music will + answer your questions, and hers too.” +

+

+ “What are your questions, Gleameil?” +

+

+ The woman shed a strange smile. “You may be sure that a question + which requires music for an answer can’t be put into words.” +

+

+ “If you are not back by the morning,” remarked her husband, + “I will know you are dead.” +

+

+ The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his mouth, + and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket. +

+

+ “Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?” She + considered a moment. +

+

+ “Yes—yes, I must see them.” +

+

+ He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed + through the air. +

+

+ A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the boys + were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity at the + first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was carrying the + youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance behind. The + child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in front of + Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked + on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with proudly raised head + and a baffling expression. +

+

+ Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, + respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest + was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked, and + his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. His facial muscles indicated + a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires. The second + showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was large and + heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes were almost + too sombre and penetrating for a child’s. +

+

+ “That one,” said Polecrab, pinching the boy’s ear, + “may perhaps grow up to be a second Broodviol.” +

+

+ “Who was that?” demanded the boy, bending his head forward to + hear the answer. +

+

+ “A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up + his mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.” +

+

+ “If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about + him.” +

+

+ “That would not have mattered,” replied the father. +

+

+ The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face was + mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity about it, + that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would wrinkle up + and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a tawny gold, + seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of his age. +

+

+ “He puzzles me,” said Polecrab. “He has a soul like sap, + and he’s interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most + remarkable of the bunch.” +

+

+ Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. He + took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never changed + countenance. +

+

+ “What do you make of him?” asked the fisherman. +

+

+ “It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. + Let me drink again, and then I shall have it.” +

+

+ “Go and drink, then.” +

+

+ Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. “In ages to + come,” he said, speaking deliberately, “he will be a grand and + awful tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well.” +

+

+ The eldest boy looked scornful. “I want to be none of those things. + I would like to be like that big fellow.” And he pointed his finger + at Maskull. +

+

+ He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. “Thanks + for the compliments old warrior!” he said. +

+

+ “He’s great and brawny,” continued the boy, “and + can hold his own with other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you + did that child?” +

+

+ Maskull complied. +

+

+ “That is being a man!” exclaimed the boy. “Enough!” + said Polecrab impatiently. “I called you lads here to say goodbye to + your mother. She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, + but we don’t know.” +

+

+ The second boy’s face became suddenly inflamed. “Is she going + of her own choice?” he inquired. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied the father. +

+

+ “Then she is bad.” He brought the words out with such force + and emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip. +

+

+ The old man cuffed him twice. “Is it your mother you are speaking + of?” +

+

+ The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said nothing. +

+

+ The youngest child spoke, for the first time. “My mother will not + come back, but she will die dancing.” +

+

+ Polecrab and his wife looked at one another. +

+

+ “Where are you going to, Mother?” asked the eldest lad. +

+

+ Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. “To the Island.” +

+

+ “Well then, if you don’t come back by tomorrow morning, I will + go and look for you.” +

+

+ Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. “This seems to me to + be a man’s journey,” he said. “I think it would be + better for you not to come, Gleameil.” +

+

+ “I am not to be dissuaded,” she replied. +

+

+ He stroked his beard in perplexity. “Is it time to start?” +

+

+ “It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “I’ll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait + there for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, + Gleameil.” +

+

+ He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. “Adieu, fisherman!” +

+

+ “You have repaid me well for my answers,” said the old man + gruffly. “But it’s not your fault, and in Shaping’s + world the worst things happen.” +

+

+ The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. “Farewell, + big man!” he said. “But guard my mother well, as well as you + are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you.” +

+

+ Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The + glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes + again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far + as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled on + to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of Alppain + had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating wind, + listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea with its + pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone’s Island. +

+

+ “What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all + she loves the most?” he meditated. “It sounds unholy. Will it + tell me what I want to know? Can it?” +

+

+ In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning + his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. + Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed + by Maskull, without looking at him, or making any salutation, and + proceeded out to sea. +

+

+ While he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the boys + came in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest-born was + holding her hand, and talking; and the other two were behind. She was calm + and smiling, but seemed abstracted. +

+

+ “What is your husband doing with the raft?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He’s putting it in position and we shall wade out and join + it,” she answered, in her low-toned voice. +

+

+ “But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?” +

+

+ “Don’t you see that current running away from land? See, he is + approaching it. That will take us straight there.” +

+

+ “But how can you get back?” +

+

+ “There is a way; but we need not think of that today.” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I come too?” demanded the eldest boy. +

+

+ “Because the raft won’t carry three. Maskull is a heavy man.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said the boy. “I know where + there is wood for another raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to + work.” +

+

+ Polecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position he + desired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point made a + sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his wife and + Maskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and broke down a + little. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and tears glistened in + his eyes; but the younger children stared wide-eyed, and displayed no + emotion. +

+

+ Gleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water covered + first their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as high as their + waists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let himself down into the + water, and assisted his wife to climb over the side. When she was up, she + bent down and kissed him. No words were exchanged. Maskull scrambled up on + to the front part of the raft. The woman sat cross-legged in the stern, + and seized the pole. +

+

+ Polecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her pole + until they had got within its power. The raft immediately began to travel + swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion. +

+

+ The boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull turned his + back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was wading back to the + shore. +

+

+ For upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. No + sound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around them, + and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its way smoothly + through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway of safety, the + beautiful dangers surrounding them were an exhilarating experience. The + air was fresh and clean, and the heat from Branchspell, now low in the + west, was at last endurable. The riot of sea colors had long since + banished all sadness and anxiety from his heart. Yet he felt such a grudge + against the woman for selfishly forsaking those who should have been dear + to her that he could not bring himself to begin a conversation. +

+

+ But when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught sight + of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon-pink in the + evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the silence by inquiring + what they were. +

+

+ “It is Lichstorm,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ Maskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her, his + eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he continued + to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles, and now he could + better estimate the enormous height of the trees. Overtopping them, far + away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not quite sure, that he could + distinguish Disscourn as well. +

+

+ “Now that we are alone in a strange place,” said Gleameil, + averting her head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the + water, “tell me what you thought of Polecrab.” +

+

+ Maskull paused before answering. “He seemed to me like a mountain + wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all. But + then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of more + mountain—and even then it is not the top.” +

+

+ “You read character well, and have great perception,” remarked + Gleameil quietly. “Now say what I am.” +

+

+ “In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that’s + all I know about you.” +

+

+ “What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?” +

+

+ “You heard.” +

+

+ “Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and + boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world + for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear + all false and vulgar.” +

+

+ “Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to + satisfy our self-nature at the expense of other people?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other + world these words have no meaning.” +

+

+ There was a silence. +

+

+ “It’s useless to discuss such topics,” said Maskull. + “The choice is now out of our hands, and we must go where we are + taken. What I would rather speak about is what awaits us on the island.” +

+

+ “I am ignorant—except that we shall find Earthrid there.” +

+

+ “Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone’s Island?” +

+

+ “They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about + him. As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.” +

+

+ “If you please,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “In a far-back age,” began Gleameil, “when the seas were + hot, and clouds hung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with + transformations, Swaylone came to this island, on which men had never + before set foot, and began to play his music—the first music in + Tormance. Nightly, when the moon shone, people used to gather on this + shore behind us, and listen to the faint, sweet strains floating from over + the sea. One night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was passing this + way in company with Krag. They listened a while to the music, and Shaping + said ‘Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This is my world and my + music.’ Krag stamped with his foot, and laughed. ‘You must do + better than that, if I am to admire it. Let us pass over, and see this + bungler at work.’ Shaping consented, and they passed over to the + island. Swaylone was not able to see their presence. Shaping stood behind + him, and breathed thoughts into his soul, so that his music became ten + times lovelier, and people listening on that shore went mad with sick + delight. ‘Can any strains be nobler?’ demanded Shaping. Krag + grinned and said, ‘You are naturally effeminate. Now let me try.’ + Then he stood behind Swaylone, and shot ugly discords fast into his head. + His instrument was so cracked, that never since has it played right. From + that time forth Swaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called + to folk more than the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island + during his lifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could endure + them; all died. After Swaylone’s death, another musician took up the + tale; and so the light has passed down from torch to torch, till now + Earthrid bears it.” +

+

+ “An interesting legend,” commented Maskull. “But who is + Krag?” +

+

+ “They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it—a + spirit compounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not know + how to transform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the world, for he + dogs Shaping’s footsteps everywhere, and whatever the latter does, + he undoes. To love he joins death; to sex, shame; to intellect, madness; + to virtue, cruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody entrails. These are Krag’s + actions, so the lovers of the world call him ‘devil.’ They don’t + understand, Maskull, that without him the world would lose its beauty.” +

+

+ “Krag and beauty!” exclaimed he, with a cynical smile. +

+

+ “Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to + discover. That beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, children, + and happiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?” +

+

+ “Surely.” +

+

+ “That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see + beauty in its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from it.” +

+

+ “Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far + from my mind.” +

+

+ She did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes, to + hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more. There + was no more talk until they reached the island. +

+

+ The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores. + Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared to + be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all broad + sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness of + insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The current + bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a sharp + angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land. +

+

+ Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed + her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the + current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the + way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set. +

+

+ Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a single + glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed her. The + cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and easy, while + the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon. +

+

+ A little way off, on their left, something white was shining. +

+

+ “You need not go to it,” said the woman. “It can be + nothing else than one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look—there + is another one over there!” +

+

+ “This brings it home!” remarked Maskull, smiling. +

+

+ “There is nothing comical in having died for beauty,” said + Gleameil, bending her brows at him. +

+

+ And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones, + from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it were + a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell into a + sombre mood. +

+

+ It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set eyes + on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way + different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were + fast becoming invisible. +

+

+ “That is Matterplay,” said the woman, pointing her finger + toward some low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off + than Wombflash. +

+

+ “I wonder how Digrung passed over,” meditated Maskull. +

+

+ Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they saw a + small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The sunset + colors of the sky were reflected in its waters. +

+

+ “That must be Irontick,” remarked Gleameil. +

+

+ “What is that?” +

+

+ “I have heard that it’s the instrument Earthrid plays on.” +

+

+ “We are getting close,” responded he. “Let us go and + investigate.” +

+

+ When they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the + farther side, in an attitude of sleep. +

+

+ “If that’s not the man himself, who can it be?” said + Maskull. “Let’s get across the water, if it will bear us; it + will save time.” +

+

+ He now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope which + bounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with greater dignity, + keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if fascinated. When Maskull + reached the water’s edge, he tried it with one foot, to discover if + it would carry his weight. Something unusual in its appearance led him to + have doubts. It was a tranquil, dark, and beautifully reflecting sheet of + water; it resembled a mirror of liquid metal. Finding that it would bear + him, and that nothing happened, he placed his second foot on its surface. + Instantly he sustained a violent shock throughout his body, as from a + powerful electric current; and he was hurled in a tumbled heap back on to + the bank. +

+

+ He picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started walking + around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the half circuit + together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him with his foot. He + woke up, and blinked at them. +

+

+ His face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable + expression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and head. On + his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a perfectly circular + organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. He had an unpleasant + smell. He appeared to be of young middle age. +

+

+ “Wake up, man,” said Maskull sharply, “and tell us if + you are Earthrid.” +

+

+ “What time is it?” counterquestioned the man. “Does it + want long to moonrise?” +

+

+ Without appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning away + from them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and to eat it + halfheartedly. +

+

+ “Now, how can you eat that filth?” demanded Maskull, in + disgust. +

+

+ “Don’t be angry, Maskull,” said Gleameil, laying hold of + his arm, and flushing a little. “It is Earthrid—the man who is + to help us.” +

+

+ “He has not said so.” +

+

+ “I am Earthrid,” said the other, in his weak and muffled + voice, which, however, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. + “What do you want here? Or rather, you had better get away as + quickly as you can, for it will be too late when Teargeld rises.” +

+

+ “You need not explain,” exclaimed Maskull. “We know your + reputation, and we have come to hear your music. But what’s that + organ for on your forehead?” +

+

+ Earthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again. +

+

+ “That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don’t + stand and argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the island + with corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else.” +

+

+ Darkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape. +

+

+ “You are rather bigmouthed,” said Maskull coolly. “But + after we have heard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself.” +

+

+ “You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?” +

+

+ A flame danced in Gleameil’s eyes. +

+

+ “Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument,” she said in + her intense way. “But it is in the soul of the Master.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Earthrid, “but that is not all. I will tell + you what it is. In Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the + mystery of the Three in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, + has three directions. Length is the line which shuts off what is, from + what is not. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what manner one + thing of what-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the path which leads + from what-is, to our own body. In music it is not otherwise. Tone is + existence, without which nothing at all can be. Symmetry and Numbers are + the manner in which tones exist, one with another. Emotion is the movement + of our soul toward the wonderful world that is being created. Now, men + when they make music are accustomed to build beautiful tones, because of + the delight they cause. Therefore their music world is based on pleasure; + its symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet and lovely.... + But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its symmetry is wild, + and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and terrible.” +

+

+ “If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come + here,” said Maskull. “Still, explain—why can’t + harsh tones have simple symmetry of form? And why must they necessarily + cause more profound emotions in us who listen?” +

+

+ “Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of + their clashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, which is + rough and earnest.” +

+

+ “You may call it music,” remarked Maskull thoughtfully, + “but to me it bears a closer resemblance to actual life.” +

+

+ “If Shaping’s plans had gone straight, life would have been + like that other sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that + intention in the world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life + resembles my music and mine is the true music.” +

+

+ “Shall we see living shapes?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what my mood will be,” returned Earthrid. + “But when I have finished, you shall adventure your tune, and + produce whatever shapes you please—unless, indeed, the tune is out + of your own big body.” +

+

+ “The shocks you are preparing may kill us,” said Gleameil, in + a low, taut voice, “but we shall die, seeing beauty.” +

+

+ Earthrid looked at her with a dignified expression. +

+

+ “Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I + put into my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed a woman + to call it ‘beauty.’ But if this is beauty, what is ugliness?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you, Master,” replied Gleameil, smiling at + him. “Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues + fresh from the womb of nature.” +

+

+ Earthrid stared at her, without response. “Teargeld is rising,” + he said at last. “And now you shall see—though not for long.” +

+

+ As the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in the + dark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was wholly up. + It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. Its shadowy parts + stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it did not give Maskull + the impression of being a dead world. Branchspell shone on the whole of + it, but Alppain only on a part. The broad crescent that reflected + Branchspell’s rays alone was white and brilliant; but the part that + was illuminated by both suns shone with a greenish radiance that had + almost solar power, and yet was cold and cheerless. On gazing at that + combined light, he felt the same sense of disintegration that the + afterglow of Alppain had always caused in him; but now the feeling was not + physical, but merely aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to him, + but disturbing and mystical. +

+

+ Earthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright moonlight, + his face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its loose, weak, + disagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty grandeur. He clapped his + hands together meditatively two or three times, and walked up and down. + The others stood together, watching him. +

+

+ Then he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side, placed + his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same time + stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact with the + water. +

+

+ While Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he felt a + stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had been pierced + by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, and as he did so he + saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was now subsiding again. The + next moment he was knocked down by a violent blow in the mouth, delivered + by an invisible hand. He picked himself up; and observed that a second + spout had formed. No sooner was he on his legs, than a hideous pain + hammered away inside his brain, as if caused by a malignant tumour. In his + agony, he stumbled and fell again; this time on the arm Krag had wounded. + All his other mishaps were forgotten in this one, which half stunned him. + It lasted only a moment, and then sudden relief came, and he found that + Earthrid’s rough music had lost its power over him. +

+

+ He saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming thick + and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But Gleameil was + not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a heap, without moving. + Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was dead. When he reached + her, he discovered that she was dead. In what state of mind she had died, + he did not know, for her face wore the vulgar Crystalman grin. The whole + tragedy had not lasted five minutes. +

+

+ He went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his playing. +

+

+ “You have been as good as your word, musician,” he said. + “Gleameil is dead.” +

+

+ Earthrid tried to collect his scattered senses. +

+

+ “I warned her,” he replied, sitting up. “Did I not beg + her to go away? But she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty + she spoke about. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the rhythm. + Neither have you.” +

+

+ Maskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing. +

+

+ “You should not have interrupted me,” went on Earthrid. + “When I am playing, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost + the thread of my ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over + again.” +

+

+ “If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next.” +

+

+ The man glanced up quickly. +

+

+ “That can’t be.” +

+

+ “It must be,” said Maskull decisively. “I prefer playing + to listening. Another reason is that you will have every night, but I have + only tonight.” +

+

+ Earthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. “With + your recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick belongs to me, + and until you have learned how to play, you would only break the + instrument.” +

+

+ “Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try.” +

+

+ The musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. “Do you intend + to take it from me by violence?” +

+

+ “Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I + shall give you time to go away somewhere.” +

+

+ “How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don’t + understand what you are doing.” +

+

+ “Go, or stay!” responded Maskull. “I give you till the + water gets smooth again. After that, I begin playing.” +

+

+ Earthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to Maskull. +

+

+ “Do you swear it?” +

+

+ “How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you + are safe.” +

+

+ Earthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and then + moved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up he glanced + over his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was happening. In + another minute or so, he had disappeared over the crest, travelling in the + direction of the shore that faced Matterplay. +

+

+ Later, when the water was once more tranquil, Maskull sat down by its + edge, in imitation of Earthrid’s attitude. He knew neither how to + set about producing his music, nor what would come of it. But audacious + projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes—and, + above all, one shape, that of Surtur. +

+

+ Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in + his mind. +

+

+ He said, “What themes are in common music, shapes are + in this music. The composer does not find his theme by picking out single + notes; but the whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it + must be with shapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the + undivided ideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and then, + reflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the first time + made acquainted with them. So it must be.” +

+

+ The instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing from + him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of flowing created a + sensation of joyful mastery. With this was curiosity to learn what they + would prove to be. Spouts formed on the lake in increasing numbers, but he + experienced no pain. His thoughts, which he knew to be music, did not + issue from him in a steady, unbroken stream, but in great, rough gushes, + succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these gushes came, the whole lake + broke out in an eruption of spouts. +

+

+ He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his + intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will. He + could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to force + them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition. +

+

+ At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a + strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased so + imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the + Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not give + it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and sacred + awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The spouts thickened + like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high. Teargeld looked + faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast no shadows. The + wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm. Shortly afterward + it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He saw no shapes, and + redoubled his efforts. +

+

+ His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole + soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not know + their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills began + to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from their + bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the landscape had + altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon disappeared + entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying, but Maskull + played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would take shape. The + hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping from the tops of the + spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was dry. +

+

+ The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that it + was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was + becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He + strained and strained.... +

+

+ Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell + through, and his instrument was broken. +

+

+ The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could not + see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in total + blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a dead silence. His + thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his foot no longer touched + water, but hung in space. +

+

+ He was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or + feel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in the + newly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its descent had met + fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many yards high, and came down + heavily. He lost consciousness.... +

+

+ When he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was gleaming + brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but it was now a + crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not penetrate. The hills + encircling it were torn, as if by heavy gunfire. A few thunderclouds were + floating in the air at no great height, from which branched lightning + descended to the earth incessantly, accompanied by alarming and singular + crashes. +

+

+ He got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was uninjured, + he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and then started to + walk painfully toward the northern shore. +

+

+ When he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped gently + down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through traces of his + rough work. The country was carved into scarps, grooves, channels, and + craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs overlooking the beach, and + found that these also were partly broken down by landslips. He got down + onto the sand and stood looking over the moonlit, agitated sea, wondering + how he could contrive to escape from this island of failure. +

+

+ Then he saw Earthrid’s body, lying quite close to him. It was on its + back. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see them + anywhere. Earthrid’s teeth were buried in the flesh of his right + forearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning physical agony. + The skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was stained by darker + discolourations, which were wounds. The sand about him was dyed by the + pool of blood which had long since filtered through. +

+

+ Maskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the + sweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for daybreak. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow straight + toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day, he saw a + great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty feet out of + the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must have been enormously + deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, through the heavy seas. + Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few minutes. Then it dawned on him that + it might be a good thing to investigate its nature. Without stopping to + weigh the danger, he immediately swam out, caught hold of the lowest + branch, and swung himself up. +

+

+ He looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top, + terminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made his + way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were covered + with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at the crown, + he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there were membranes + like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting some form of low + intelligence. +

+

+ At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore, + and began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his hand out, + and, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the membranes. The tree + sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was steady again, + Maskull removed his hand; they at once drifted back to shore. He thought a + bit, and then started experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was as + he had guessed—these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon, + and whichever way the light came from, the tree would travel. +

+

+ A rather defiant smile crossed Maskull’s face as it struck him that + it might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as + Matterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into execution. + Tearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up all the membranes + except the ones that faced the north. The tree instantly left the island, + and definitely put out to sea. It travelled due north. It was not moving + at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay was possibly forty + miles distant. +

+

+ The great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the + breaking seas hissed through the lower branches—Maskull rested high + and dry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow rate of + progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward the + north-west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to juggle + with the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in piloting his + tree into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were fairly in its + rapids, he blinded the crown entirely, and thenceforward the current acted + in the double capacity of road and steed. +

+

+ Maskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the remainder + of the night. +

+

+ When his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld was + setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with the + colours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the light over + the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land—probably + Matterplay—lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, perhaps a + mile away. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but began to skirt + the coast without drawing any closer to it. As soon as Maskull realised + the fact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its channel and started drifting + it inshore. The eastern sky blazed up suddenly with violent dyes, and the + outer rim of Branchspell lifted itself above the sea. The moon had already + sunk. +

+

+ The shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was like + Swaylone’s Island—the same wide sands, small cliffs, and + rounded, insignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the + early-morning sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed + and morose, cared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, + clambered swiftly down through the branches and dropped into the sea. By + the time he had swam ashore, the white, stupendous sun was high above the + horizon. +

+

+ He walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable distance, + without having any special intention in his mind. He thought he would go + on until he came to some creek or valley, and then turn up it. The sun’s + rays were cheering, and began to relieve him of his oppressive night + weight. After strolling along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped + by a broad stream that flowed into the sea out of a kind of natural + gateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid green, + all filled with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did it look + that he flung himself face downward on the ground and took a prolonged + draught. When he got up again his eyes started to play pranks—they + became alternately blurred and clear.... It may have been pure + imagination, but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him. +

+

+ He followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and then + for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared, like a + jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare and lifeless, + but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely fertile; he had + never seen such fertility. It wound up among the hills, and all that he + was looking at was its broad lower end. The floor of the valley was about + half a mile wide; the stream that ran down its middle was nearly a hundred + feet across, but was exceedingly shallow—in most places not more + than a few inches deep. The sides of the valley were about seventy feet + high, but very sloping; they were clothed from top to bottom with little, + bright-leaved trees—not of varied tints of one colour, like Earth + trees, but of widely diverse colours, most of which were brilliant and + positive. +

+

+ The floor itself was like a magician’s garden. Densely interwoven + trees, shrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for possession + of it. The forms were strange and grotesque, and each one seemed + different; the colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and stem were + equally peculiar—all the different combinations of the five primary + colours of Tormance seemed to be represented, and the result, for Maskull + was a sort of eye chaos. So rank was the vegetation that he could not + fight his way through it; he was obliged to take to the riverbed. The + contact of the water created an odd tingling sensation throughout his + body, like a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a few + extraordinary-looking winged reptiles of small size kept crossing the + valley from hill to hill. Swarms of flying insects clustered around him, + threatening mischief, but in the end it turned out that his blood was + disagreeable to them, for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling + creatures resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in + myriads on the banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use + their weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into + the water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a + hideous monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape—if + it resembled anything—a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. + They stared at one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with cool + and wary ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened to him. +

+

+ His eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring passed + away and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in character. He + was looking right through the animal’s body and could distinguish + all its interior parts. The outer crust, however, and all the hard tissues + were misty and semi-transparent; through them a luminous network of + blood-red veins and arteries stood out in startling distinctness. The hard + parts faded away to nothingness, and the blood system alone was left. Not + even the fleshy ducts remained. The naked blood alone was visible, flowing + this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the shape of the + monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a continuous + liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a million + individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by the rapid + motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled minute suns + in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a double drift of + stars, streaming through space. One drift was travelling toward a fixed + point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it. He + recognised the former as the veins of the beast, the latter as the + arteries, and the fixed point as the heart. +

+

+ While he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network went out + suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean had stood, there + was nothing. Yet through this “nothing” he could not see the + landscape. Something was standing there that intercepted the light, though + it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. And now the object, + which could no longer be perceived by vision, began to be felt by emotion. + A delightful, springlike sense of rising sap, of quickening pulses of + love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity—took possession of his + being, and, strangely enough, he identified it with the monster. Why that + invisible brute should cause him to feel young, sexual, and audacious, he + did not ask himself, for he was fully occupied with the effect. But it was + as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and he were face to face + with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into his own body. +

+

+ The sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the + streaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed to the + red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with more and + more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew fainter. + Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed by the crust—the + creature stood opposite Maskull in its old formidable ugliness, hard, + painted, and concrete. +

+

+ Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and stumbled + awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive movements, + toward the other bank of the stream. +

+

+ Maskull’s apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and + thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through + Digrung’s eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately + ahead. The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down with his + will, and nothing happened. +

+

+ The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed + considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and + higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was deeper—it + was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric sensations caused + by its water became more pronounced, almost disagreeably so; but there was + nowhere else to walk. With its deafening confusion of sounds from the + multitude of living creatures, the little valley resembled a vast + conversation hall of Nature. The life was still more prolific than before; + every square foot of space was a tangle of struggling wills, both animal + and vegetable. For a naturalist it would have been paradise, for no two + shapes were alike, and all were fantastic, with individual character. +

+

+ It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that there + was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on Earth, where + a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be sown. Here the + young forms seemed to survive, while, to find accommodation for them, the + old ones perished; everywhere he looked they were withering and dying, + without any ostensible cause—they were simply being killed by new + life. +

+

+ Other creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that they + became of different “kingdoms” altogether. For example, a + fruit was lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with + a tougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; but + inside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of bursting its + shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back toward him; by the + time he was even with it, its downward motion had stopped and it was + swimming against the current. He fished it out and discovered that it had + sprouted six rudimentary legs. +

+

+ Maskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously overcrowded + valley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and depressed. He thought + that the unseen power—whether it was called Nature, Life, Will, or + God—that was so frantic to rush forward and occupy this small, + vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was not + worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical + existence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important + business was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he longed + for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the ravine, he + began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up from tree to + tree. +

+

+ When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such brutal, + white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He looked + around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He had + travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare, + undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in + the distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone’s + Island. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he + could see. Over the crest—that is to say, some miles away—a + line of black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed + themselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against the sky, + perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of Lichstorm, + most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the sunlight. +

+

+ They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were + conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced + themselves at what looked like impossible angles—overhanging without + apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought: + extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there, + and to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get + there before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted + him than the country which lay beyond—the prospect of setting eyes + on the blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance. +

+

+ The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question, + because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed, however, + that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and decided to keep + to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared it. Into the + hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself. +

+

+ Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for several + miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly difficult. + The cliffs closed in on either side until they were less than a hundred + yards apart, while the bed of the ravine was blocked by boulders, great + and small, so that the little stream, which was now diminished to the + proportions of a brook, had to come down where and how it could. The forms + of life grew stranger. Pure plants and pure animals disappeared by + degrees, and their place was filled by singular creatures that seemed to + partake of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will, and intelligence, + but they remained for the greater part of their time rooted in the ground + by preference, and they fed only on soil and air. Maskull saw no sexual + organs and failed to understand how the young came into existence. +

+

+ Then he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed + plant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. He + could not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long time in + amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before him, as thought + it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull resumed his + striding from rock to rock up the gorge, and then, quietly and without + warning, the same phenomenon occurred again. No longer could he doubt that + he was seeing miracles—that Nature was precipitating its shapes into + the world without making use of the medium of parentage.... No solution of + the problem presented itself. +

+

+ The brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up from + its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the air. He had + not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its quality. He + felt new life entering his body, from his feet upward; it resembled a + slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. The sensation was quite new + in his experience, yet he knew by instinct what it was. The energy emitted + by the brook was ascending his body neither as friend nor foe but simply + because it happened to be the direct road to its objective elsewhere. But, + although it had no hostile intentions, it was likely to prove a rough + traveller—he was clearly conscious that its passage through his body + threatened to bring about some physical transformation, unless he could do + something to prevent it. Leaping quickly out of the water, he leaned + against a rock, tightened his muscles, and braced himself against the + impending change. At that very moment the blurring again attacked his + sight, and, while he was guarding against that, his forehead sprouted out + into a galaxy of new eyes. He put his hand up and counted six, in addition + to his old ones. +

+

+ The danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on having + got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were for—whether + they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a dozen steps up the + ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the act of jumping down from + the top of a boulder, his vision altered and he came to an automatic + standstill. He was perceiving two worlds simultaneously. With his own eyes + he saw the gorge as before, with its rocks, brook, plant-animals, + sunshine, and shadows. But with his acquired eyes he saw differently. All + the details of the valley were visible, but the light seemed turned down, + and everything appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured. The sun was obscured + by masses of cloud which filled the whole sky. This vapour was in violent + and almost living motion. It was thick in extension, but thin in texture; + some parts, however, were far denser than others, as the particles were + crushed together or swept apart by the motion. The green sparks from the + brook, when closely watched, could be distinguished individually, each one + wavering up toward the clouds, but the moment they got within them a + fearful struggle seemed to begin. The spark endeavoured to escape through + to the upper air, while the clouds concentrated around it whichever way it + darted, trying to create so dense a prison that further movement would be + impossible. As far as Maskull could detect, most of the sparks succeeded + eventually in finding their way out after frantic efforts; but one that he + was looking at was caught, and what happened was this. A complete ring of + cloud surrounded it, and, in spite of its furious leaps and flashes in all + directions—as if it were a live, savage creature caught in a net—nowhere + could it find an opening, but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with + it, wherever it went. The vapours continued to thicken around it, until + they resembled the black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a bad + thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the + interior, ceased its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent. The + cloud shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly spherical; as + it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend toward the + valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its lower end + only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether and there + was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like a stab of + forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became small, indented, + and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on legs and + rooting up the ground in search of food. The concluding stage of the + phenomenon he witnessed with his normal eyesight. It showed him the + creature’s appearing miraculously out of nowhere. +

+

+ Maskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to + curiosity and awe. “That was exactly like the birth of a thought,” + he said to himself, “but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind + is at work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are + different, and he has character, for all belong to the same general + type.... If I’m not wrong, and if it’s the force called + Shaping or Crystalman, I’ve seen enough to make me want to find out + something more about him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other + riddles before I have solved these.” +

+

+ A voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a human + figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. It looked + more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but nimble, and was + clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached from the neck to below + the knees. Around his head was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for him, + and when he was nearer went a little way to meet him. +

+

+ Then he experienced another surprise, for this person, although clearly a + human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything between the two, but + was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which was remarkable to behold + and difficult to understand. In order to translate into words the sexual + impression produced in Maskull’s mind by the stranger’s + physical aspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in + earthly use would be applicable. Instead of “he,” “she,” + or “it,” therefore “ae” will be used. +

+

+ He found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily + peculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, and + not from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. Body, + face, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but something + quite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a woman at the + first glance by some indefinable difference of expression and atmospheres + altogether apart from the contour of the figure, so the stranger was + separated in appearance from both. As with men and women, the whole person + expressed a latent sensuality, which gave body and face alike their + peculiar character.... Maskull decided that it was love—but + what love—love for whom? It was neither the shame-carrying passion + of a male, nor the deep-rooted instinct of a female to obey her destiny. + It was as real and irresistible as these, but quite different. +

+

+ As he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an + intuitive feeling that aer lover was no other than Shaping himself. It + came to him that the design of this love was not the continuance of the + race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No children were + produced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal child. Further, ae + sought like a man, but received like a woman. All these things were dimly + and confusedly expressed by this extraordinary being, who seemed to have + dropped out of another age, when creation was different. +

+

+ Of all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, this + one struck him as infinitely the most foreign—that is, the + farthest removed from him in spiritual structure. If they were to live + together for a hundred years, they could never be companions. +

+

+ Maskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing the + newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to account for + the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae possessed broad + shoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so far ae + resembled a man. But the bones were so flat and angular that aer flesh + presented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces + in place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down by + the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung together + in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea. The + face too was broken and irregular. With his racial prejudices, Maskull + found little beauty in it, yet beauty there was, though neither of a + masculine nor of a feminine type, for it had the three essentials of + beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper-coloured + and strangely luminous, as if lighted from within. The face was beardless, + but the hair of the head was as long as a woman’s, and, dressed in a + single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae possessed only two + eyes. That part of the turban which went across the forehead protruded so + far in front that it evidently concealed some organ. +

+

+ Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared active, + vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes were + powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless, + the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable + ancientness came upon him—aer real youth seemed as far away as the + view observed through a reversed telescope. +

+

+ At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were + conversing with a dream. “To what sex do you belong?” he + asked. +

+

+ The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was + oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance. +

+

+ “Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world + was peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only survivor of all + those beings who were then passing through Faceny’s mind.” +

+

+ “Faceny?” +

+

+ “Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names + invented by a race of superficial creatures.” +

+

+ “What’s your own name?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae.” +

+

+ “What?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have + just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess + extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of it.” +

+

+ “Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never + mind that now. It is your sex that interests me. How do you satisfy your + desires?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on her brow. “With that I + gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay + valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been + spent trying to find Faceny himself. I’ve hunted so long that if I + were to state the number of years you would believe I lied.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else + from Matterplay—a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.” +

+

+ “You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.” +

+

+ “It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. “In Matterplay he will + stir inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I + knew him.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may + happen. Keep out of the water.” +

+

+ “This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.” +

+

+ “Don’t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by + right to the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work + to remove them.” +

+

+ Maskull continued thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have + to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?” +

+

+ “Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to + serve me. Together we will search for Threal.” +

+

+ “Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?” +

+

+ “I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.” +

+

+ “You said Faceny, Leehallfae.” +

+

+ The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. “This + stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its + source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is in + Threal that we must look for Faceny.” +

+

+ “But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s + a well-known country?” +

+

+ “It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are + few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have + scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of + Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants + beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, + dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.” +

+

+ “Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have + found Faceny, what do you gain?” +

+

+ Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and + its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that + Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief + and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the scents + and traces of whose person were always present. This passion stamped aer + features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual beauty, far + transcending any beauty of woman or man. +

+

+ But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast showed + Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but vulgar—it + was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims with + untiring persistence. +

+

+ He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. + “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any case I + shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as + yourself.” +

+

+ “But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different + creations. A phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s + body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman. + Faceny may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not + feel this?” +

+

+ “I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions + I can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the + phaen’s thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he + proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not + forgetting your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as + Maskull and finish it as Digrung.” +

+

+ The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road + was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it + warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they + could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a long + time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel + to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. + The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, + where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears + vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream. +

+

+ Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying + to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, + Maskull, or what is the matter?” +

+

+ “Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, + if anyone does. What is Muspel?” +

+

+ The phaen’s face was blank. “I don’t know the name.” +

+

+ “It is another world of some sort.” +

+

+ “That cannot be. There is only this one world—Faceny’s.” +

+

+ Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. “I’m + glad I fell in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything + connected with it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot + there are hardly any organic forms left—why have they all + disappeared? You call this brook a ‘life stream,’ yet the + nearer its source we get, the less life it produces. A mile or two lower + down we had those spontaneous plant-animals appearing out of nowhere, + while right down by the sea, plants and animals were tumbling over one + another. Now, if all this is connected in some mysterious way or other + with your Faceny, it seems to me he must have a most paradoxical nature. + His essence doesn’t start creating shapes until it has become + thoroughly weakened and watered.... But perhaps both of us are talking + nonsense.” +

+

+ Leehallfae shook aer head. “Everything hangs together. The stream is + life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these + sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes. The + nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous is its + life. You’ll see for yourself when we reach the head of the valley + that there are no living shapes there at all. That means that there is no + kind of matter tough enough to capture and hold the terrible sparks that + are to be found there. Lower down the stream, most of the sparks are + vigorous enough to escape to the upper air, but some are held when they + are a little way up, and these burst suddenly into shapes. I myself am of + this nature. Lower down still, toward the sea, the stream has lost a great + part of its vital power and the sparks are lazy and sluggish. They spread + out, rather than rise into the air. There is hardly any kind of matter, + however delicate, that is incapable of capturing these feeble sparks, and + they are captured in multitudes—that accounts for the innumerable + living shapes you see there. But not only that—the sparks are passed + from one body to another by way of generation, and can never hope to cease + being so until they are worn out by decay. Lowest of all, you have the + Sinking Sea itself. There the degenerate and enfeebled life of the + Matterplay streams has for its body the whole sea. So weak is it’s + power that it can’t succeed in creating any shapes at all but you + can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to do so, in those spouts.” +

+

+ “So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness + of the life germ in their case?” +

+

+ “Exactly. It can’t attain all its desires at once. And now you + can see how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously + from the more electric and vigorous sparks.” +

+

+ “But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?” +

+

+ “When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its + place is constantly taken by new matter.” +

+

+ “But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?” +

+

+ “Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left + his brain they are nothing—mere dying embers.” +

+

+ “This is a cheerless philosophy,” said Maskull. “But who + is Faceny himself, then, and why does he think at all?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. “That I’ll explain + too. Faceny is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He + has no back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It + must necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and + Nothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally contemplates + Nothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could he + feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in empty + places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.” +

+

+ “That rings true,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny’s face backward. Since + his face is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught + of thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of + Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the + world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not + outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like a + gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never see.” +

+

+ Maskull pondered deeply for a while. +

+

+ “Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, + since you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought.” +

+

+ “Have you never loved a woman?” asked the phaen, regarding him + fixedly. +

+

+ “Perhaps I have.” +

+

+ “When you loved, did you have no high moments?” +

+

+ “That’s asking the same question in other words.” +

+

+ “In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have + drawn nearer still, would you not have done so?” +

+

+ “I would, regardless of the consequences.” +

+

+ “Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?” +

+

+ “But I would have that to hope for.” +

+

+ Leehallfae walked on in silence. +

+

+ “A man is the half of Life,” ae broke out suddenly. “A + woman is the other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. + Moreover, when life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped + out of it—something that belongs only to the whole. Between your + love and mine there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn + to Faceny, without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you + suppose it is with me?” +

+

+ “I don’t question the genuineness of your passion,” + replied Maskull, “but it’s a pity you can’t see your way + to carry it forward into the next world.” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion. + “Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see + the world only as it really is.” +

+

+ That ended the conversation. +

+

+ The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the head + of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except at those + moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode along all + the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot and relaxing. + All life had ceased. A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was presented by the + cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that choked the entire + width of the gorge. They were of a snow-white crystalline limestone, + heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue. The rivulet was no + longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal. Its noise was musical, and + altogether it looked most romantic and charming, but Leehallfae seemed to + find something else in it—aer features grew more and more set and + tortured. +

+

+ About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another + plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes. It was + as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous appearance, + as befitted a creature just out of Nature’s mint. It started to walk + about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder. Nothing + remained of it—the whole body disappeared instantaneously into the + same invisible mist from which it had sprung. +

+

+ “That bears out what you said,” commented Maskull, turning + rather pale. +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the + region of terrible life.” +

+

+ “Then, since you’re right in this, I must believe all that you’ve + been telling me.” +

+

+ As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine. + There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three + hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the head + of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed. +

+

+ “In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now + lend me your luck.” +

+

+ They walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it + reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be + difficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a few + feet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be heard. The + floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up the precipice the + sun was shining. +

+

+ “What do you want me to do?” demanded Maskull.

+

“Everything + is now in your hands, and I have no suggestions to make. Now it’s + your luck that must help us.” +

+

+ Maskull continued gazing up a little while longer. “We had better + wait till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I’ll probably have to climb to + the top, but it’s too hot at present—and besides, I’m + tired. I’ll snatch a few hours’ sleep. After that, we’ll + see.” +

+

+ Leehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was standing + by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae had slept at + all. +

+

+ “What time is it?” Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting + up. +

+

+ “The day is passing,” was the vague reply. +

+

+ Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. “Now I’m + going to climb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so + you wait here, and if I find anything on top I’ll call you.” +

+

+ A phaen glanced at him strangely. “There’s nothing up there + except a bare hillside. I’ve been there often. Have you anything + special in mind?” +

+

+ “Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait.” +

+

+ Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the + cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it grew + precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and + intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect before + every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no novice at + the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it half blinded + him with its glittering whiteness. +

+

+ After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating + copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two + projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling upward, + his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the larger of + the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a huge, dark + shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to the foot of + the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones. Maskull + steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments before he + dared to look down behind him. +

+

+ At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight of legs + and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He perceived + that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising something, + and waited for aer to reappear. +

+

+ Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice, + “The entrance is here!” +

+

+ “I’m coming down!” roared Maskull. “Wait for me!” +

+

+ He descended swiftly—without taking too much care, for he thought he + recognised his “luck” in this discovery—and within + twenty minutes was standing beside the phaen. +

+

+ “What happened?” +

+

+ “The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the + spring. It tore it out of its bed. See—now there’s room for us + to get in!” +

+

+ “Don’t get excited!” said Maskull. “It’s a + remarkable accident, but we have plenty of time. Let me look.” +

+

+ He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man without + stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet a peculiar + glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock tunnel went + straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight. The valley + brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had expected, but + came up as a spring just inside the entrance. +

+

+ “Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe + that your stream parts company with us here.” +

+

+ As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was + trembling from head to foot. +

+

+ “Why, what’s the matter?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. “The stream leaves us, but + what makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there.” +

+

+ “But surely you don’t expect to see him in person? Why are you + shaking?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it will be too much for me after all.” +

+

+ “Why? How is it affecting you?” +

+

+ The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm’s length, + endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. “Faceny’s + thoughts are obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he + grants to you what he denies to me.” +

+

+ “What does he grant to me?” +

+

+ “To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it’s + immaterial. Tomorrow both of us will be dead.” +

+

+ Maskull impatiently shook himself free. “Your sensations may be + reliable in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?” +

+

+ “Life is flaming up inside you,” replied Leehallfae, shaking + aer head. “But after it has reached its climax—perhaps tonight—it + will sink rapidly and you’ll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter + Threal I shan’t come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to + me out of this hole.” +

+

+ “You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing.” +

+

+ “I am not frightened,” said Leehallfae quietly—ae had + been gradually recovering aer tranquillity—“but when one has + lived as long as I have, it is a serious matter to die. Every year one + puts out new roots.” +

+

+ “Decide what you’re going to do,” said Maskull with a + touch of contempt, “for I’m going in at once.” +

+

+ The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that + walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his head, + followed close at aer heels. +

+

+ The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere + altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear and + refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts. The daylight + disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that, Maskull could not + say where the light came from. The air itself must have been luminous, for + though it was as light as full moon on Earth, neither he nor Leehallfae + cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the light was that both the walls of + the tunnel and their own bodies appeared colourless. Everything was black + and white, like a lunar landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal + feelings created by the atmosphere. +

+

+ After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to widen + out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could have walked + side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged aerself along + slowly and painfully, with sunken head. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of aer. “You can’t go on like that. Better + let me take you back.” +

+

+ The phaen smiled, and staggered. “I’m dying.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. It’s only a passing + indisposition. Let me take you back to the daylight.” +

+

+ “No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny.” +

+

+ “The sick must have their way,” said Maskull. Lifting aer + bodily in his arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or + so. They then emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of + which he had never set eyes upon before. +

+

+ “Set me down!” directed Leehallfae feebly. “Here I’ll + die.” +

+

+ Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground. The + phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with + fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape. +

+

+ Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain, lighted + as if by the moon—but there was of course no moon, and there were no + shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside them were + trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but the branches + also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other plants could be + seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice. Beyond a mile or + two in any direction the light merged into obscurity. At their back a + great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not square like a + wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented line of sea + cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight. Here and there + a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered, towered aloft into + the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof. There were no colours—every + detail of the landscape was black, white, or grey. The scene appeared so + still, so solemn and religious, that all his feelings quieted down to + absolute tranquillity. +

+

+ Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and + helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a + candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of + Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen’s dead features. +

+

+ While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone standing + beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at once rise. +

+

+ “Another phaen dead,” said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, + and intellectual voice. +

+

+ Maskull got up. +

+

+ The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not + disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were energetic + and rather coarse—yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure, hard + life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine eyes carried a + twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was apparently in the + forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the hair of his head was + short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed in a black, sleeveless + robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There was an air of cleanness and + austerity about the whole man that was attractive. +

+

+ He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so, kept + passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. “They all + find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live to + an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because of their + spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured children of + Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at once.” +

+

+ “I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?” +

+

+ “I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you + doing here?” +

+

+ “My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. + As for what I am doing here—I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, + from Matterplay.” +

+

+ “But a man doesn’t accompany a phaen out of friendship. What + do you want in Threal?” +

+

+ “Then this is Threal?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull remained silent. +

+

+ Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. “Are you + ignorant, or merely reticent, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them.” +

+

+ The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred, + and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as + though they were in a cathedral. +

+

+ “Then do you want my society, or not?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is—not to talk + about myself.” +

+

+ “But you must at least tell me where you want to go to.” +

+

+ “I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “I can guide you through, if that’s all you want. Come, let us + start.” +

+

+ “First let’s do our duty and bury the dead, if possible.” +

+

+ “Turn around,” directed Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae’s body had disappeared. +

+

+ “What does this mean—what has happened?” +

+

+ “The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for + it to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required.” +

+

+ “Was the phaen an illusion, then?” +

+

+ “In no sense.” +

+

+ “Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be + going mad.” +

+

+ “There’s nothing unintelligible in it, if you’ll only + listen calmly. The phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible + world—to Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny’s world, but + Thire’s, and Faceny’s creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. + As this applies not only to whole bodies, but even to the last particles + of bodies, the phaen has dissolved into Nothingness.” +

+

+ “But don’t you and I belong to the outside world too?” +

+

+ “We belong to all three worlds.” +

+

+ “What three worlds—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “There are three worlds,” said Corpang composedly. “The + first is Faceny’s, the second is Amfuse’s, the third is Thire’s. + From him Threal gets its name.” +

+

+ “But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three + worlds?” +

+

+ Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. “All this we can discuss + as we go along. It’s a torment to me to be standing still.” +

+

+ Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae’s body had lain, + quite bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely + tear himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang + called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him. +

+

+ They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, + directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the + absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the + jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly + silence, the knowledge that he was underground—the combination of + all these things predisposed Maskull’s mind to mysticism, and he + prepared himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang’s explanation of + the land and its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of + the outside world and the reality of this world were two quite different + things. +

+

+ “In what sense are there three worlds?” he demanded, repeating + his former question. +

+

+ Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. “First of all, + Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it’s mere intellectual + curiosity, tell me, for we mustn’t play with awful matters.” +

+

+ “No, it isn’t that,” said Maskull slowly. “I’m + not a student. My journey is no holiday tour.” +

+

+ “Isn’t there blood on your soul?” asked Corpang, eying + him intently. +

+

+ The blood rose steadily to Maskull’s face, but in that light it + caused it to appear black. +

+

+ “Unfortunately there is, and not a little.” +

+

+ The other’s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment. +

+

+ “And so you see,” went on Maskull, with a short laugh, “I’m + in the very best condition for receiving your instruction.” +

+

+ Corpang still paused. “Underneath your crimes I see a man,” he + said, after a few minutes. “On that account, and because we are + commanded to help one another, I won’t leave you at present, though + I little thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your + question.... Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three + ways—length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is + relation, depth is feeling.” +

+

+ “Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who + came from Threal.” +

+

+ “I don’t know him. What else did he tell you?” +

+

+ “He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the + interruption.” +

+

+ “These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is + Faceny’s world, relation is Amfuse’s world, feeling is Thire’s + world.” +

+

+ “Can’t we come down to hard facts?” said Maskull, + frowning. “I understand no more than I did before what you mean by + three worlds.” +

+

+ “There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first + world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of + nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.” +

+

+ “That I understand.” +

+

+ “The second world is Love—by which I don’t mean lust. + Without love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable + deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy—not + even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect + and distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny’s world of + Nature, therefore, we have Amfuse’s world of Love, or Relation.” +

+

+ “What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world + is not contained in the first?” +

+

+ “They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover + lives for others.” +

+

+ “It may be so. It’s rather mystical. But go on—who is + Thire?” +

+

+ “Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and + love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the + need of men to stretch out toward their creator.” +

+

+ “You mean prayer and worship?” +

+

+ “I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in + either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as + depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between + Thire and man.” +

+

+ “But what is Thire himself?” +

+

+ “Thire is the afterworld.” +

+

+ “I still don’t understand,” said Maskull. “Do you + believe in three separate gods, or are these merely three ways of + regarding one God?” +

+

+ “There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they + are somehow united.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected a while. “How have you arrived at these + conclusions?” +

+

+ “None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Why in Threal—what is there peculiar here?” +

+

+ “I will show you presently.” +

+

+ They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what + had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the + banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,” + he remarked. +

+

+ Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and + uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance. +

+

+ “How has this come about—and how did you know it?” +

+

+ “They were Faceny’s organs. They have vanished, just as the + phaen’s body vanished.” +

+

+ Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. “I feel more human without them. + But why isn’t the rest of my body affected?” +

+

+ “Because its living will contains the element of Thire.” +

+

+ “Why are we stopping here?” +

+

+ Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and + proffered it to him. “Eat this, Maskull.” +

+

+ “For food, or something else?” +

+

+ “Food for body and soul.” +

+

+ Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was + bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change of + perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline, became + several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang he was + impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed expression + was still in his eyes. +

+

+ “Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Occasionally I go above, but not often.” +

+

+ “What fastens you to this gloomy world?” +

+

+ “The search for Thire.” +

+

+ “Then it’s still a search?” +

+

+ “Let us walk on.” +

+

+ As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, the + conversation became even more earnest in character than before. “Although + I was not born here,” proceeded Corpang, “I’ve lived + here for twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing + nearer to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it—the + first stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. + The longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the + beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a + voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and + harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles + off.” +

+

+ “How do you explain that?” +

+

+ “When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull.” +

+

+ “But this is troubling you?” +

+

+ “My days are spent in torture.” +

+

+ “You still persist, though? This day darkness can’t be the + ultimate state?” +

+

+ “My questions will be answered.” +

+

+ A silence ensued. +

+

+ “What do you propose to show me?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three + Figures, which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, + we will pray.” +

+

+ “And what then?” +

+

+ “If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily + forget.” +

+

+ They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two + parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills + on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as it + curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view. They came + to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed a trickling + brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was flowing up + the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by other + miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized stream. + Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead. +

+

+ “Nature has other laws here, it seems?” +

+

+ “Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds.” +

+

+ “Yet the water is flowing somewhere.” +

+

+ “I can’t explain it, but there are three wills in it.” +

+

+ “Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?” +

+

+ “Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without + Faceny.” +

+

+ Maskull thought this over for some minutes. “That must be so,” + he said at last. “Without life there can be no love, and without + love there can be no religious feeling.” +

+

+ In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the valley + presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The sides + were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower at every + step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and sepulchral. +

+

+ Maskull said, “I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another + world.” +

+

+ “I still do not know what you are doing here,” answered + Corpang. +

+

+ “Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur.” +

+

+ “That name I’ve heard—but under what circumstances?” +

+

+ “You forget?” +

+

+ Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled. + “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull shook his head, and said nothing. +

+

+ The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching + fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock + walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but just + when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by cliffs on + all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly into the + open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of precipices. +

+

+ A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the + way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred + yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with + perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet, but + its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one + another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too + proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged + onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher than + that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double line of + lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible. +

+

+ The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight + forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a waterfall, + it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then disappeared + through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side. +

+

+ To Maskull’s mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural + phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here than + on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms. +

+

+ Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When they + had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet. Three large + rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three upright + giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of the chasm. + Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that they were + statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship was of the + rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and trunks had been + barely chipped into shape—the faces alone had had care bestowed on + them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was obviously the + work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with knees closed and + arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were exactly alike. +

+

+ As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “Is this a representation of your three Beings?” asked + Maskull, awed by the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity. +

+

+ “Ask no questions, but kneel,” replied Corpang. He dropped + onto his own knees, but Maskull remained standing. +

+

+ Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a few + minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he + continued looking. +

+

+ It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight + and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit. +

+

+ Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had + ceased to be a statue—it was a living person. Out of the blackness + of space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy + glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew + stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow came + from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist. +

+

+ Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that of + a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl and + the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull felt + the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one who awakes + from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark, delicate + colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and looked beyond + him. He began to shudder, with delight—and many emotions. As he + gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and indefinable + character that he could endure it no more; he burst into tears. +

+

+ When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few + moments more he was plunged back into total darkness. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured into + a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its face and + body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from them. This + light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden fire. It + illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges, the cliffs, + himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted statues—all + appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and strongly + defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat. Maskull was + unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart melting to + womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded imperceptibly + away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left behind was not + freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate and nearly savage + mental state of pity and distress. He felt a tormenting desire to serve. + All this came from the heat of the statue, and was without an object. He + glanced anxiously around him, and fastened his eyes on Corpang. He put a + hand on his shoulder and aroused him from his praying. +

+

+ “You must know what I am feeling, Corpang.” +

+

+ Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing. +

+

+ “I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?” +

+

+ “So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to + the invisible worlds.” +

+

+ As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to die + away from the landscape. Maskull’s emotion slowly subsided, but it + was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became master + of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition of + enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting in + his character. He got up onto his feet. +

+

+ The very moment that he arose, a man’s voice sounded, not a yard + from his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could + distinguish that it was not Corpang’s. As he listened he was unable + to prevent himself from physically trembling. +

+

+ “Maskull, you are to die,” said the unseen speaker. +

+

+ “Who is speaking?” +

+

+ “You have only a few hours of life left. Don’t trifle the time + away.” +

+

+ Maskull could bring nothing out. +

+

+ “You have despised life,” went on the low-toned voice. “Do + you really imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is + a joke?” +

+

+ “What must I do?” +

+

+ “Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to...” +

+

+ The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again. All + remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken his + departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of + catalepsy. +

+

+ At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, + white glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining. +

+

+ In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got + up, and shook him out of his trance. +

+

+ Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. “Whose statue was + the last?” he demanded. +

+

+“Thire’s.” +

+

+ “Did you hear me speaking?” +

+

+ “I heard your voice, but no one else’s.” +

+

+ “I’ve just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long + to live. Leehallfae prophesied the same thing.” +

+

+ Corpang shook his head. “What value do you set on life?” he + asked. +

+

+ “Very little. But it’s a fearful thing all the same.” +

+

+ “Your death is?” +

+

+ “No, but this warning.” +

+

+ They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men + seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard + the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way + off and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked. It + appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where they + were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull’s heart beat + quickly. +

+

+ “What can that sound be?” asked Corpang, peering into the + obscurity. +

+

+ “It is Surtur.” +

+

+ “Once again, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance + was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in + intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer + seen by Their’s light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows. +

+

+ Corpang’s nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. + “What fire is that?” +

+

+ “It is Muspel-light.” +

+

+ They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange glow + they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in the + sordid and horrible Crystalman mask. +

+

+ Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. “What can this + mean?” he asked a minute later. +

+

+ “It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, + whether he is one person or three.” +

+

+ Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a shocking + sight. “Dare we believe this?” +

+

+ “You must,” replied Maskull. “You have always served the + highest, and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that + Thire is not the highest.” +

+

+ Corpang’s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. “Life + is clearly false—I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I + find—this.” +

+

+ “You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had + eternity to practice his cunning in, so it’s no wonder if a man can’t + see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?” +

+

+ “The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “But where will it take us?” +

+

+ “Perhaps out of Threal altogether.” +

+

+ “It sounds to me more real than reality,” said Corpang. + “Tell me, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of + which this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is + other than life.” +

+

+ “How do you know this?” +

+

+ “It has sprung together somehow—from inspiration, from + experience, from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour + it grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape.” +

+

+ Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, + energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. “I believe + you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not + the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but + the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming + with you—but don’t play the traitor. These signs may be for + you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me—” +

+

+ “I make no promises. I don’t ask you to come with me. If you + prefer to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, + you had better not come.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to + me... Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound.” +

+

+ Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the + direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along the + ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually + departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical + beats continued, but a very long way ahead—neither was able to + diminish the distance. +

+

+ “What kind of man are you?” Corpang suddenly broke out. +

+

+ “In what respect?” +

+

+ “How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it + that I’ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my + never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to + me?” +

+

+ “To hear voices perhaps can’t be made a profession,” + replied Maskull. “I have a simple and unoccupied mind—that may + be why I sometimes hear things that up to the present you have not been + able to.” +

+

+ Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his + pride. +

+

+ The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on + the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the right, + and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a bridge, coming + out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of precipices + immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along the base of + these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large cave the + sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps inward. +

+

+ “This leads to the outer world,” remarked Corpang. “I’ve + occasionally been there by this passage.” +

+

+ “Then that’s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan’t + be sorry to see sunlight once more.” +

+

+ “Can you find time to think of sunlight?” asked Corpang with a + rough smile. +

+

+ “I love the sun, and perhaps I’m rather lacking in the spirit + of a zealot.” +

+

+ “Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.” +

+

+ “Don’t be bitter,” said Maskull. “I’ll tell + you another thing. Muspel can’t be willed, for the simple reason + that Muspel does not concern the will. To will is a property of this + world.” +

+

+ “Then what is your journey for?” +

+

+ “It’s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over + the walk, and quite another to run there at top speed.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I’m not so easily deceived as you think,” said + Corpang with another smile. +

+

+ The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep + ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to + climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the + confined dreams of his childhood. +

+

+ Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the last + stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all dirty + and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a hillside, bathed + in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang followed closely at his + heels. He was obliged to shield his eyes with his hands for a few minutes, + so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell’s blinding rays. +

+

+ “The drum beats have stopped!” he exclaimed suddenly. +

+

+ “You can’t expect music all the time,” answered Maskull + dryly. “We mustn’t be luxurious.” +

+

+ “But now we have no guide. We’re no better off than before.” +

+

+ “Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, + Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north.” +

+

+ “That will take us to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. “I + saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they + did then, and there’s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm + from here?” +

+

+ Corpang looked away to the distant range. “I don’t know, but + unless a miracle happens we shan’t get there tonight.” +

+

+ “I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not + only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my + life.” +

+

+ And he sat down passively to rest. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his + arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed + impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped + short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. “What do you + intend to do?” +

+

+ Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. + “Since we can’t walk, we must wait.” +

+

+ “For what?” +

+

+ “I don’t know... How’s this, though? Those peaks have + changed colour, from red to green.” +

+

+ “Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.” +

+

+ “The lich wind?” +

+

+ “It’s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the + mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as + Threal.” +

+

+ “It’s a sort of fog, then?” +

+

+ “A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.” +

+

+ “So we are to have lovemaking,” said Maskull, laughing. +

+

+ “Perhaps you won’t find it so joyous,” replied Corpang a + little grimly. +

+

+ “But tell me—these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?” +

+

+ Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast fading + into obscurity. +

+

+ “Passion keeps them from falling.” +

+

+ Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. + “What, the love of rock for rock?” +

+

+ “It is comical, but true.” +

+

+ “We’ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the + mountains is Barey, is it not?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?” +

+

+ “That is told only to those who die beside it.” +

+

+ “Is the secret so precious, Corpang?” +

+

+ Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than two + hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. It was + a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now appeared only + as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling, and was exciting + in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional inflammation, as though a + very slight external cause would serve to overturn his self-control. + Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron. +

+

+ Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. +

+

+ “That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something + from the top.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his companion’s opinion, he began to scramble up + the tor, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined + him. +

+

+ From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the + sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. Leaving + all that, however, Maskull’s eyes immediately fastened themselves on + a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which was travelling + rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the air. +

+

+ “What do you make of that?” he asked in a tone of + astonishment. +

+

+ Corpang shook his head and said nothing. +

+

+ Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished the + distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and more, but + its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was continually + jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull now made out a + man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large dead animal lying + amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he observed a thick, blue haze + underneath it, and a similar haze behind, but the front, facing them, was + clear. +

+

+ “Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth + carries it?” +

+

+ He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had not + been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made wild + motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred yards + distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a way + that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence. +

+

+ The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a walking + man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was shaped rather + queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides tapered off from a + flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern. The flat bottom was + not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked, and carried only one + living occupant; the other object they had distinguished was really the + carcass of an animal, of about the size of a large sheep. The blue haze + trailing behind the boat appeared to emanate from the glittering point of + a short upright pole fastened in the stern. When the craft was within a + few feet of them, and they were looking down at it in wonder from above, + the man removed this pole and covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. + The forward motion then ceased altogether, and the boat began to drift + hither and thither, but still it remained suspended in the air, while the + haze underneath persisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against + the pile of rocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore + and immediately clambered up to meet them. +

+

+ Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a young + man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His limbs were + quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long, and he had the + biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in a man. His + hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding teeth, and a + spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped upward. On his + forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been mutilated—it + was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short and thin. + Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed to stand in + the same relation to jale as green to red. +

+

+ Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two + companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. + Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the + first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background. +

+

+ “What men are you?” demanded the aerial navigator at last. His + voice was extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It + sounded to Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way + through a narrow orifice. +

+

+ “I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where + I come from, don’t ask.” +

+

+ “I am Haunte, from Sarclash.” +

+

+ “Where may that be?” +

+

+ “Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got + too murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Are you returning there now?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And how long will it take to get there in that boat?” +

+

+ “Two—three hours.” +

+

+ “Will it accommodate us too?” +

+

+ “What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?” +

+

+ “To see the sights,” responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. + “But first of all, to dine. I can’t remember having eaten all + day. You seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won’t lack + for food.” +

+

+ Haunte eyed him quizzically. “You certainly don’t lack + impudence. However, I’m a man of that sort myself, and it is the + sort I prefer. Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a + meal of a stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up + out of a dark hole.” +

+

+ Maskull took Corpang’s arm, and constrained him to silence. +

+

+ “Where have you been hunting, Haunte?” +

+

+ “Matterplay. I had the worst luck—I speared one wold horse, + and there it lies.” +

+

+ “What is Lichstorm like?” +

+

+ “There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no + men-women, as with you.” +

+

+ “What do you call men-women?” +

+

+ “Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are + pure.” +

+

+ “I have always regarded myself as a man.” +

+

+ “Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?” +

+

+ “Why, do you?” +

+

+ Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. “Things are different in + Lichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?” +

+

+ “I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what + you say.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll introduce you to Sullenbode.” +

+

+ He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a + great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook. +

+

+ “Let us share the joke,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Oh, you’ll understand it later.” +

+

+ “If you play pranks with me, I won’t stand on ceremony with + you.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed again. “I won’t be the one to play pranks. + Sullenbode will be deeply obliged to me. If I don’t visit her myself + as often as she would like, I’m always glad to serve her in other + ways.... Well, you shall have your boat ride.” +

+

+ Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. “If the sexes hate one another + in your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?” +

+

+ “In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm + there is hard passion.” +

+

+ “But what do you call hard passion?” +

+

+ “Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure.” +

+

+ “I intend to understand, before I’ve finished.” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Haunte, with a taunting look, “it would + be a pity to let the chance slip, since you’re going to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ It was now Corpang’s turn to take Maskull by the arm. “This + journey will end badly.” +

+

+ “Why so?” +

+

+ “Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women.” +

+

+ “Let me alone,” said Maskull. “Give luck a slack rein. + What brought this boat here?” +

+

+ “What is this talk about Muspel?” demanded Haunte. +

+

+ Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes. + “What do you know?” +

+

+ “Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high + time to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn’t child’s + play, let me tell you.” +

+

+ “I shall not forget,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull gazed down at the boat. “Are we to get in?” +

+

+ “Gently, my friend. It’s only canework and skin.” +

+

+ “First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived + to dispense with the laws of gravitation.” +

+

+ Haunte smiled sarcastically. “A secret in your ear, Maskull. All + laws are female. A true male is an outlaw—outside the law.” +

+

+ “I don’t understand.” +

+

+ “The great body of the earth is continually giving out female + particles, and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally + continually trying to reach them. That’s gravitation.” +

+

+ “Then how do you manage with your boat?” +

+

+ “My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat + prevents it from falling to the ground; the one in the stern shuts it off + from solid objects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any + part of the earth is the bow, for that’s the only part the light of + the male stones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels.” +

+

+ “And what are these wondrous male stones?” +

+

+ “They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they + are showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the + female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left over + to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the least + attracted in that direction.” +

+

+ Maskull ruminated for a minute. +

+

+ “With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very + handy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun’s sinking, and we’d + better start.” +

+

+ “Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then + you and your gloomy friend can sit amidships.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but + then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom, + still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear, as + though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but the + rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and he + was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty. +

+

+ After the first moment’s shock, he quietly accepted the new order of + things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight in + the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then + descended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his + settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last; + grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to erect + it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near view of + the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of Nature, acted + indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In the last ruddy + gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it looked little more + impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating blue-white jewel, + but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured mist that it threw + out for many yards around. +

+

+ The steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to the + top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment of the + male stone’s rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be shut + off at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial vessel quietly + detached itself from the rock to which it had been drawn, and passed + slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. Branchspell sank below + the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out everything outside a radius of + a few miles. The air grew cool and fresh. +

+

+ Soon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte withdrew + the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. +

+

+ “You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night,” + exclaimed Maskull. “I would have thought it impossible.” +

+

+ Haunte grunted. “You will have to take risks, and think yourself + fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. But one + thing I can tell you—if you go on disturbing me with your chitchat + we shan’t get as far as the mountains.” +

+

+ Thereafter Maskull was silent. +

+

+ The twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to look at, + but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to the + never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of + gravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing of a + small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy. Haunte, + from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with one eye. The + darkness now came on rapidly. +

+

+ About ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they arrived at + the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There was no daylight + left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides of them and in the + rear, the landscape was lighted up for a considerable distance by the now + vivid blue rays of the twin male stones. Ahead, where these rays did not + shine, Haunte was guided by the self-luminous nature of the rocks, grass, + and trees. These were faintly phosphorescent; the vegetation shone out + more strongly than the soil. +

+

+ The moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore + inferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or twice, + from his sensations of choking, he thought that they were entering a + fogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the effect of + doubling the intensity of every light in front of them. Whenever this + happened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he experienced transitory, + unreasoning fright and horror. +

+

+ Now they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills from + the mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many thousands of + feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to manoeuvre carefully with + the rear light in order to keep clear of them. Maskull watched the + delicacy of his movements, not without admiration. A long time went by. It + grew much colder; the air was damp and drafty. The fog began to deposit + something like snow on their persons. Maskull kept sweating with terror, + not because of the danger they were in, but because of the cloud banks + that continued to envelop them. +

+

+ They cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this time + with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by the + male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out of + sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke + through. In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling + hither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through + one of which Teargeld was shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic + peak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and was + then swallowed up again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the mist. + The moon went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him long for + the aerial voyage to end. +

+

+ The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new + cliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, downward, and on + both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. After coasting it a + little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out. It was square, + measuring about a dozen feet each way. Green snow covered it to a depth of + some inches. Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which + promised to be the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he raised + the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then removed both + male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. His face was thrown + into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white rays. It looked + rather surly. +

+

+ “Do we get out?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes. I live here.” +

+

+ “Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.” +

+

+ “Yes, it has been touch-and-go.” +

+

+ Corpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. “There + has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a + ferryman, Haunte.” +

+

+ “Is that so?” returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. + “I thought I was carrying men, not gods.” +

+

+ “Where are we?” asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but + Haunte remained standing a minute in the boat. +

+

+ “This is Sarclash—the second highest mountain in the land.” +

+

+ “Which is the highest, then?” +

+

+ “Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—very + difficult in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, + lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you + know the lay of the land.” +

+

+ “Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?” +

+

+ “Near enough.” Haunte grinned. +

+

+ He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, + walked straight into the cave. +

+

+ Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to a + doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed his + way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made no + comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its + fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard + at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. +

+

+ The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with + walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways: that + by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly opposite. + The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from door to door. + Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground. A number of lumps + of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the wall, and a few + bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were tusks, horns, and + bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two short hunting spears, + having beautiful crystal heads. +

+

+ Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther door; + thire light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the meat + and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. +

+

+ “Are we invited to the feast?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not + pause in his chewing. +

+

+ “Where’s a cup?” inquired Maskull, lifting one of the + skins. +

+

+ Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up, + undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the cup. + Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed off the + draught, and then felt much better. +

+

+ The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, + swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to + drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, + and began to throw off care. +

+

+ Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat down + on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and coarse, but + he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not understand the flavour, + which was not surprising in a world of strange animals. The meal proceeded + in silence. Corpang ate sparingly, standing up, and afterward lay down on + a bundle of furs. His bold eyes watched all the movements of the other + two. Haunte had not drunk as yet. +

+

+ At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed + pleasantly, and prepared to talk. +

+

+ “Now explain further about your women, Haunte.” +

+

+ Haunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off the + string with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in quick + succession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to Maskull. +

+

+ “Well?” +

+

+ “So they are objectionable?” +

+

+ “They are deadly.” +

+

+ “Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?” +

+

+ “You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had + some bad feelings, eh?” +

+

+ “I don’t conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were + struggling with a nightmare. What caused it?” +

+

+ “The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion.” +

+

+ “I had no passion.” +

+

+ “That was passion—the first stage. Nature tickles your + people into marriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You’ll + have a return of those sensations—only ten times worse. The drink + you’ve had will see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?” +

+

+ “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you questions.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed loudly. “Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?” +

+

+ “But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, + fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?” +

+

+ Maskull coolly drank another cup. “And why should she give all that + to a passerby?” +

+

+ “Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn’t it to give. No, what + she will give you, and what you’ll accept from her, because you can’t + help it, is—anguish, insanity, possibly death.” +

+

+ “You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why + should I accept insanity and death?” +

+

+ “Because your passion will force you to.” +

+

+ “What about yourself?” Maskull asked, biting his nails. +

+

+ “Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune.” +

+

+ “Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?” +

+

+ “Yes, but don’t attempt any tricks, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. “So + men and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?” + he proceeded at last. +

+

+ “That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love + between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is + Maskull’s female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land + the men are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the female side.” +

+

+ “Where do the male stones come from?” +

+

+ “Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff + somewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure female + world. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual + shapes.” +

+

+ “Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?” +

+

+ “The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is + dangerous to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?” +

+

+ Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. “I remind you of + your promise to tell about Muspel.” +

+

+ Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. “Ha! The underground + man has come to life.” +

+

+ “Yes, tell us,” put in Maskull carelessly. +

+

+ Haunte drank, and laughed a little. “Well, the tale’s short, + and hardly worth telling, but since you’re interested.... A stranger + came here five years ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was Lodd. + He came from the east. He came up to me one bright morning in summer, + outside this very cave. If you ask me to describe him—I can’t + imagine a second man like him. He looked so proud, noble, superior, that I + felt my own blood to be dirty by comparison. You can guess I don’t + have this feeling for everyone. Now that I am recalling him, he was not so + much superior as different. I was so impressed that I rose and talked to + him standing. He inquired the direction of the mountain Adage. He went on + to say, ‘They say Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you + know of such a thing?’ I told him the truth—that I knew + nothing about it, and then he went on, ‘Well, I am going to Adage. + And tell those who come after me on the same errand that they had better + do the same thing.’ That was the whole conversation. He started on + his way, and I’ve never seen him or heard of him since.” +

+

+ “So you didn’t have the curiosity to follow him?” +

+

+ “No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in + the man somehow seemed to vanish.” +

+

+ “Probably because he was useless to you.” +

+

+ Corpang glanced at Maskull. “Our road is marked out for us.” +

+

+ “So it would appear,” said Maskull indifferently. +

+

+ The talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, and grew + restless. +

+

+ “What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in + daylight? It struck me as strange.” +

+

+ “Dolm,” said Haunte. +

+

+ “A compound of ulfire and blue,” explained Corpang. +

+

+ “Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger.” +

+

+ “What colours have you in your world?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how + it comes about I can’t imagine.” +

+

+ “There are two sets of three primary colours here,” said + Corpang, “but as one of the colours—blue—is identical in + both sets, altogether there are five primary colours.” +

+

+ “Why two sets?” +

+

+ “Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and + red; Alppain, ulfire, blue, and jale.” +

+

+ “It’s remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me + before.” +

+

+ “So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity of + nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a + contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In yellow + light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red is feeling. + When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal feelings.... As + regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle and is therefore + not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it must be a + different sort of existence.” +

+

+ Haunte yawned. “There are marvellous philosophers in your + underground hole.” +

+

+ Maskull got up and looked about him. +

+

+ “Where does that other door lead to?” +

+

+ “Better explore,” said Haunte. +

+

+ Maskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging the + curtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose abruptly and + hurried after him. +

+

+ Corpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit skins, + untied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to the floor. + Next he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the points between his + hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, Haunte and Maskull + reappeared. The host’s quick, shifty eyes at once took in what had + happened. He smiled, and turned pale. +

+

+ “You haven’t been idle, friend.” +

+

+ Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. “I thought it well + to draw your teeth.” +

+

+ Maskull burst out laughing. “The toad’s come into the light to + some purpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?” +

+

+ Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly + uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him. + The two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They were as often on the + floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the + better of it. He made no attempt to separate them. A thought came into his + head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, laughing, + through the upper doorway, into the open night air. +

+

+ The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A narrow + ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it + was the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the + chasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers + than stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind. While Maskull was + still watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern, + followed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull’s arm excitedly. +

+

+ “What in Krag’s name have you done?” +

+

+ “Overboard they have gone,” replied Maskull, renewing his + laughter. +

+

+ “You accursed madman!” +

+

+ Haunte’s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal + light were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion of + his will. +

+

+ “You know this kills me?” +

+

+ “Haven’t you been doing your best this last hour to make me + ripe for Sullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!” +

+

+ “You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.” +

+

+ Haunte’s jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a + sick man—yet somehow his face had become nobler. +

+

+ “I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my + being also very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the + same errand—which doesn’t appear to have struck you yet.” +

+

+ “But why this errand at all?” asked Corpang quietly. “Can’t + you men exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?” +

+

+ Haunte fixed him with wild eyes. “No. The phantoms come trooping in + on me already.” +

+

+ He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again. +

+

+ “And I cannot wait.... the game is started.” +

+

+ Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte in + front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme caution was + demanded. The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and rocks. +

+

+ When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the + party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down. +

+

+ “The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse.” +

+

+ Haunte turned back. “Then you are a doomed man.” +

+

+ Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, imagined + that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural being, who + was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled violently, + yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in great drops. The + waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that space it kept coming + and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the point of departing; the + next it almost took shape—which he knew would be his death. Suddenly + it vanished altogether—he was free. A fresh spring breeze fanned his + face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet bird; and it seemed + to him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. Such flashing, + heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all his life! Almost + immediately that too vanished. +

+

+ Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like + one who has been visited by an angel. +

+

+ “Your colour changed to white,” said Corpang. “What + happened?” +

+

+ “I passed through torture to love,” replied Maskull simply. +

+

+ He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. “Will you not describe + that passage?” +

+

+ Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. “When I was in Matterplay, + I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living + animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to + consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy + would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is not + accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through my + brain.... You men of Lichstorm don’t go far enough. You stop at the + pangs, without realising that they are birth pangs.” +

+

+ “If this is true, you are a great pioneer,” muttered Haunte. +

+

+ “How does this sensation differ from common love?” + interrogated Corpang. +

+

+ “This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.” +

+

+ Corpang fingered his chin awhile. “The Lichstorm men, however, will + never reach this stage, for they are too masculine.” +

+

+ Haunte turned pale. “Why should we alone suffer?” +

+

+ “Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn’t act according to + justice.... Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all.” +

+

+ “I’ll see,” muttered Haunte. “Perhaps I will.” +

+

+ “Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “No, her home’s under the hanging cap of Sarclash.” +

+

+ “What is to happen tonight?” Maskull spoke to himself, but + Haunte answered him. +

+

+ “Don’t expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just + occurred. She is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will + draw her out into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were + permanent, you would have endowed her with a soul.” +

+

+ “Perhaps the change might be made permanent.” +

+

+ “To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as + well. But why should she desire you?” +

+

+ “Nothing turns out as one expects,” said Maskull, shaking his + head. “We had better get on again.” +

+

+ They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner + of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which + mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use + both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the + overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. +

+

+ The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and + bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. +

+

+ “This must be under the cap,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode.” +

+

+ When he spoke his words, Maskull’s lips surprised him by their + tender sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills + throughout his body. +

+

+ The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into + sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but no + leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful light—a + mingling of jale and white—gleamed softly through the darkness. She + sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in a singular skin + garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one shoulder, and ended as + loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her forearms were lightly + folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten fruit. +

+

+ Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he + had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting in + its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked + scarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In their + richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a background of + slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour could not be + distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked into her + garment behind, for convenience. +

+

+ Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly agitated. + Maskull’s heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte pulled + him, and said, “My head feels as if it were being torn from my + shoulders.” +

+

+ “What can that mean?” +

+

+ “Yet there’s a horrible joy in it,” added Haunte, with a + sickly smile. +

+

+ He put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced + up at them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not + imagine that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped + on his knees, and kissed her lips. +

+

+ She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull + noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged from + their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The smile + faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her feet, + and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn. Maskull + came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but nothing + indicated what she thought. +

+

+ Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She + suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, he + fell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in contact with + an electric wire. The back of his head struck the ground, and he lay there + motionless. +

+

+ Corpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had + happened, he left him where he was. +

+

+ “Maskull, come here quickly!” +

+

+ The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte’s skin, as Maskull bent + over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had been + split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with + strange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from an + axe. +

+

+ “This couldn’t be from the fall,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “No, Sullenbode did it.” +

+

+ Maskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her former + attitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had vanished from her + face, and she was again smiling. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Sullenbode’s naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the + clothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her senseless, + smiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through his body. +

+

+ Corpang spoke out of the night. “She looks like an evil spirit + filled with deadliness.” +

+

+ “It was like deliberately kissing lightning.” +

+

+ “Haunte was insane with passion.” +

+

+ “So am I,” said Maskull quietly. “My body seems full of + rocks, all grinding against one another.” +

+

+ “This is what I was afraid of.” +

+

+ “It appears I shall have to kiss her too.” +

+

+ Corpang pulled his arm. “Have you lost all manliness?” +

+

+ But Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at his + beard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After this had + gone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the woman, and + lifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright against the rugged tree + trunk, he kissed her. +

+

+ A cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it was + death, and lost consciousness. +

+

+ When his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder with + one hand at arm’s length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. At + first he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but + another. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with that + which Haunte’s action had called into existence. A great calmness + came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. +

+

+ Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her + features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power. + She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her + face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth + crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous as + before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her—she + looked the kingliest of all women. She appeared not more than + twenty-five. +

+

+ Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way + and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a + long, bowlike smile. “Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?” +

+

+ Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull.” +

+

+ She motioned to him to come a step nearer. “Listen, Maskull. Man + after man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, + for I did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for + good or evil.” +

+

+ Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said + quietly, “What have you to say about him?” +

+

+ “Who was it?” +

+

+ “Haunte.” +

+

+ “So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a + famous man.” +

+

+ “It’s a horrible affair. I can’t think that you killed + him deliberately.” +

+

+ “We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only + protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.” +

+

+ “I might have died, too.” +

+

+ “You came together?” +

+

+ “There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.” +

+

+ “I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Nothing.” +

+

+ “Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.” +

+

+ “No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.” +

+

+ “This is not that pleasure, then?” demanded the low, earnest + voice, out of the darkness. +

+

+ “No, that pleasure has not returned.” +

+

+ Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. “What pleasure are you speaking of?” +

+

+ “A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.” +

+

+ “But what do you feel now?” +

+

+ “Calm and free.” +

+

+ Sullenbode’s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling + sea of elemental passions. “I do not know how it will end, Maskull, + but we will still keep together a little. Where are you going?” +

+

+ “To Adage,” said Corpang, stepping forward. +

+

+ “But why?” +

+

+ “We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to + find Muspel-light.” +

+

+“What light is that?” +

+

+ “It’s the light of another world.” +

+

+ “The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?” +

+

+ “On one condition,” said Corpang. “They must forget + their sex. Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.” +

+

+ “I give you all other men,” said Sullenbode. “Maskull is + mine.” +

+

+ “No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of + the existence of nobler things.” +

+

+ “You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to + Adage.” +

+

+ “Are you acquainted with it?” +

+

+ Again the woman gripped Maskull’s arm. “What is love—which + Corpang despises?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, “Love is that + which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake + of the beloved.” +

+

+ Corpang wrinkled his forehead. “A magnanimous female lover is new in + my experience.” +

+

+ Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, “Are + you contemplating a sacrifice?” +

+

+ She gazed at her feet, and smiled. “What does it matter what my + thoughts are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest + first? It’s a rough road to Adage.” +

+

+ “What’s in your mind?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash + and Adage, perhaps I shall turn back.” +

+

+ “And then?” +

+

+ “Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, + but if it is dark it’s hardly likely.” +

+

+ “That’s not what I meant. What will become of you after we + have parted company?” +

+

+ “I shall return somewhere—perhaps here.” +

+

+ Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. “Shall + you sink back into—the old state?” +

+

+ “No, Maskull, thank heaven.” +

+

+ “Then how will you live?” +

+

+ Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There + was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. “And who said I would go + on living?” +

+

+ Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he + spoke again. “You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can’t + leave you like this.” +

+

+ Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed. +

+

+ “You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us + go.... Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others—who + aren’t so single-minded—can do is to help him to his + destination. We mustn’t inquire whether the destination of + single-minded men is as a rule worth arriving at.” +

+

+ “If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.” +

+

+ “Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.” +

+

+ Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have + picked up wisdom.” +

+

+ “Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.” +

+

+ As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte. +

+

+ “Can we not bury that poor fellow?” +

+

+ “By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not + include Corpang.” +

+

+ “We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I + am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.” +

+

+ “Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” + They left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three + men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the + same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, + pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies + shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but + Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. + They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and + fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an + alluring girl and a half-infatuated man. +

+

+ For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, + maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a false + step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right. After a + while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground, and they + seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The ascending slope on + the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards more. Then Sullenbode + bore sharply to the left, and they found level ground all around them. +

+

+ “We are on the ridge,” announced the woman, halting. +

+

+ The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst through + the clouds, illuminating the whole scene. +

+

+ Maskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view was + quite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, shining down + on them from behind. Straight in front, like an enormously wide, smoothly + descending road, lay the great ridge which went on to Adage, though Adage + itself was out of sight. It was never less than two hundred yards wide. It + was covered with green snow, in some places entirely, but in other places + the naked rocks showed through like black teeth. From where they stood + they were unable to see the sides of the ridge, or what lay underneath. On + the right hand, which was north, the landscape was blurred and indistinct. + There were no peaks there; it was the distant, low-lying land of Barey. + But on the left hand appeared a whole forest of mighty pinnacles, near and + far, as far as the eye could see in moonlight. All glittered green, and + all possessed the extraordinary hanging caps that characterised the + Lichstorm range. These caps were of fantastic shapes, and each one was + different. The valley directly opposite them was filled with rolling mist. +

+

+ Sarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two + ends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile or more of + empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which they stood. The + southern end was the long line of cliffs on that part of the mountain + where Haunte’s cave was situated. The connecting curve was the steep + slope they had just traversed. One peak of Sarclash was invisible. +

+

+ In the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a few + summits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared over the + south side of the horseshoe. +

+

+ Maskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw her + for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on his lips. + The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, and the face, + pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly became almost + beautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of rose-red. Her hair was + a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly disturbed; he thought that she + resembled a spirit, rather than a woman. +

+

+ “What puzzles you?” she asked, smiling. +

+

+ “Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight.” +

+

+ “Perhaps you never will.” +

+

+ “Your life must be most solitary.” +

+

+ She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. “Why + do you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means + I can’t say.” +

+

+ Sullenbode laughed outright. “It assuredly does not mean the + approach of night.” +

+

+ Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly + broke in. “The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I’ll + go on alone.” +

+

+ “No, we’ll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us.” +

+

+ “A little way,” said the woman, “but not to Adage, to + pit my strength against unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know + how to renounce love, but I will never be a traitor to it.” +

+

+ “Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang + is as ignorant as myself.” +

+

+ Corpang looked him full in the face. “Maskull, you are quite well + aware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a + beautiful woman.” +

+

+ Maskull gave an uneasy laugh. “What Corpang doesn’t tell you, + Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than he, + and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying his + prayers in Threal.” +

+

+ “Still, what he says must be true,” she replied, looking from + one to the other. +

+

+ “And so I am not to be allowed to—” +

+

+ “So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not + backward, Maskull.” +

+

+ “We need not quarrel yet,” he remarked, with a forced smile. + “No doubt things will straighten themselves out.” +

+

+ Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. “I picked up + another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.” +

+

+ “Tell it to me, then.” +

+

+ “Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their + strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but the + law-abiders live at their ease—they have conquered nothing for + themselves.” +

+

+ “It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and + perfect. You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.” +

+

+ “No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.” +

+

+ They started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three were + abreast, Sullenbode in the middle. +

+

+ The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance + comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth, for + the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm to + their naked feet. Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides. The + moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows + were sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked on + Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the + galaxy of glorious distant peaks. +

+

+ “You cannot belong to this world,” said the woman. “Men + of your stamp are not to be looked for here.” +

+

+ “No, I have come here from Earth.” +

+

+ “Is that larger than our world?” +

+

+ “Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With + all those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and + therefore the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without + encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure + among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.” +

+

+ “Do men hate women there, and women men?” +

+

+ “No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant + is the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes. + There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.” +

+

+ “That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. + But now say—why did you come here?” +

+

+ “To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer + interested me.” +

+

+ “How long have you been in this world?” +

+

+ “This is the end of my fourth day.” +

+

+ “Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. + You cannot have been inactive.” +

+

+ “Great misfortunes have happened to me.” +

+

+ He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from the + moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode listened, + with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. Only twice did + she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin’s death, she + said, speaking in a low voice—“None of us women ought by right + of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act of hers, + I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.” Again, + speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, “That grand-souled girl I admire + the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing else + besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?” +

+

+ When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, “Does it not strike + you, Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the + men?” +

+

+ “I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a + substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love the + sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally noble.” +

+

+ Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet, + that he was struck into silence. +

+

+ They tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, “Now + you understand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, scant + pity for anyone—Oh, it has been a bloody journey!” +

+

+ She laid her hand on his arm. “I, for one, would not have it less + rugged.” +

+

+ “Nothing good can be said of my crimes.” +

+

+ “To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not + what.... The grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause to + look up to women.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Sullenbode!” he responded, with a troubled smile. +

+

+ “When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of + your road. You go on, looking neither to right nor left.” +

+

+ “Take care that you are not thrown as well,” said Corpang + gravely. +

+

+ “Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for + whatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have a bag + of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have had it + described to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, selfish joy. + It is not that—it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, and + bloody.... How should you know.” +

+

+ “Selfishness has far too many disguises.” +

+

+ “If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?” +

+

+ “Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too + swift for you both.” +

+

+ Sullenbode studied him through her lashes. “Do you mean death—his + death as well as mine?” +

+

+ “You go too far, Corpang,” said Maskull, turning a shade + darker. “I don’t accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes.” +

+

+ “If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead.” +

+

+ The woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. “I wish you to + stay with us.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “I think you may know what you are talking about. I don’t wish + to bring harm to Maskull. Presently I’ll leave you.” +

+

+ “That will be best,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked angry. “I shall decide—Sullenbode, whether you + go on, or back, I stay with you. My mind is made up.” +

+

+ An expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her efforts + to conceal it. “Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered brows. + After a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. “Wait, Sullenbode!” +

+

+ The others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the woman + smiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her lips. Then he + relinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang. +

+

+ “How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?” +

+

+ “It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to me.” +

+

+ “Then I say no more; but you are a fated man.” +

+

+ From that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the others. +

+

+ A heavy gleam appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Now things are + changed, Maskull. Where are you taking me?” +

+

+ “Choose, you.” +

+

+ “The man I love must complete his journey. I won’t have it + otherwise. You shall not stand lower than Corpang.” +

+

+ “Where you go, I will go.” +

+

+ “And I—as long as your love endures, I will accompany you—even + to Adage.” +

+

+ “Do you doubt its lasting?” +

+

+ “I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you + before. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love me no + longer, I must die.” +

+

+ “And why?” asked Maskull slowly. +

+

+ “Yes, that’s the responsibility you incurred when you kissed + me for the first time. I never meant to tell you.” +

+

+ “Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?” +

+

+ “I have no other life but what you give me.” +

+

+ He gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then slowly + placed his arms around her body. During this embrace he turned very pale, + but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk. +

+

+ A few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed. +

+

+ They had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky and + nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the character + of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow disappeared, and + gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little grassy hillocks and + marshes. They began to slip about and become draggled with mud. + Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and the men followed in her + tracks. The southern half of the landscape grew grander. The greenish + light of the brilliant moon, shining on the multitude of snow-green peaks, + caused it to appear like a spectral world. Their nearest neighbour towered + high above them on the other side of the valley, due south, some five + miles distant. It was a slender, inaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, + the angles of which were too steep to retain snow. A great upward-curving + horn of rock sprang out from its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it + constituted their cheif landmark. +

+

+ The whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The surface soil + was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed in the damp mists + by night, and breathed them out again by day, under Branchspell’s + rays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then difficult, and finally + dangerous. None of the party could distinguish firm ground from bog. + Sullenbode sank up to her waist in a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her, + but after this incident took the lead himself. Corpang was the next to + meet with trouble. Exploring a new path for himself, he tumbled into + liquid mud up to his shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death. After + Maskull had got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded once more; + but now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had to be + thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the test + frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end they no + longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered from top to + toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. He not only had + the exhausting task of beating the way, but was continually called upon to + help his companions out of their difficulties. Without him they could not + have got through. +

+

+ After a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength. + Corpang’s breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, + and depressed. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at them doubtfully. “Does this continue?” he + inquired. +

+

+ “No. I think,” replied the woman, “we can’t be far + from the Mornstab Pass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then + the road will improve perhaps.” +

+

+ “Can you have been here before?” +

+

+ “Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then.” +

+

+ “You are tired out, Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “What of it?” she replied, smiling faintly. “When one + has a terrible lover, one must pay the price.” +

+

+ “We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we + come to.” +

+

+ “I leave it to you.” +

+

+ He paced up and down, while the others sat. “Do you regret anything?” + he demanded suddenly. +

+

+ “No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.” +

+

+ “Your feelings are unchanged?” +

+

+ “Love can’t go back—it can only go on.” +

+

+ “Yes, eternally on. It is so.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax + has been reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.” +

+

+ “That’s a dreadful creed,” he said in a low voice, + turning pale beneath his coating of mud. +

+

+ “Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don’t know + what I feel.” +

+

+ In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey + recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain + off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge of + the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was nothing + but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was the + lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces of + earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with stunted + vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands that way, + but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to east and west, + the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. A low haze + concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air, broken only + by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall. +

+

+ Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country. The + moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an Earth + day. +

+

+ “Tonight is like life,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ “How so?” +

+

+ “So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “Poor girl, you are unhappy.” +

+

+ “And you—are you happy?” +

+

+ He thought a while, and then replied—“No. No, I’m not + happy. Love is not happiness.” +

+

+ “What is it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Restlessness—unshed tears—thoughts too grand for our + soul to think...” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ After a time she asked, “Why were we created, just to live for a few + years and then disappear?” +

+

+ “We are told that we shall live again.” +

+

+ “Yes, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Perhaps in Muspel,” he added thoughtfully. +

+

+ “What kind of life will that be?” +

+

+ “Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a + thing to remain uncompleted.” +

+

+ She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. “This dream is + untrue. Love is completed here.” +

+

+ “How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by + Fate?” +

+

+ “It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment + for us? Can’t we suffer—can’t we go on suffering, + forever and ever? Maskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and + without remedy, we don’t begin to feel ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. “Can the memory of + love be worth more than its presence and reality?” +

+

+ “You don’t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all + the rest beside.” She caught at him. “Oh, if you could only + see inside my mind, Maskull! You would see strange things.... I can’t + explain. It is all confused, even to myself.... This love is quite + different from what I thought.” +

+

+ He sighed again. “Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong + for human beings. And I think that it overturns our reason in different + ways.” +

+

+ They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with + unseeing eyes. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said Sullenbode at last, with a + smile, getting up. “Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, + let us be off!” +

+

+ Maskull too got up. +

+

+ “Where’s Corpang?” he asked listlessly. +

+

+ They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the point + where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly toward + the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy list. + Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards, but then + a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from side to + side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out all further + view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to the other, was + crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining brightly in the + moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were about thirty in + all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that there was little + doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some were + perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme + antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing the + hill, not far from the top. +

+

+ “He wishes to arrive,” said Maskull, watching the energetic + ascent with a rather cynical smile. +

+

+ “The heavens won’t open for Corpang,” returned + Sullenbode. “He need not be in such a hurry.... What do these + pillars seem like to you?” +

+

+ “They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have + planted them there?” +

+

+ She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill, and + disappear through the line of posts. +

+

+ Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. “Now we two are alone in a + lonely world.” +

+

+ She regarded him steadily. “Our last night on this earth must be a + grand one. I am ready to go on.” +

+

+ “I don’t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go + down the pass a little, and find shelter.” +

+

+ She half smiled. “We won’t study our poor bodies tonight. I + mean you to go to Adage, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, + terrible climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?” +

+

+ She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to + him. “Come, Maskull!” +

+
+

+ When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the foot + of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the hill, + and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode, but she + appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind and above + the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began to be + illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter faded; + the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the light of + Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid, peculiar, and + awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing—it was + supernatural and indescribable. Maskull’s spirit swelled. He stood + fast, with expanded nostrils and terrible eyes. +

+

+ Sullenbode touched him lightly. +

+

+ “What do you see, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Muspel-light.” +

+

+ “I see nothing.” +

+

+ The light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It burned + with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot the + existence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. Each beat + was like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the sky and making + the air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and one continuous roar + of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm persisted—the four + beats, with the third accented, still came pulsing through the atmosphere, + only now against a background of thunder, and not of silence. +

+

+ Maskull’s heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed + to throw it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the sublime + universe which was beginning to unveil itself. +

+

+ Sullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed him—passionately, + again and again. He made no response; he was unaware of what she was + doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and streaming eyes, went + noiselessly away. She started to go back toward the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ A few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died down. + The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside were again + bright. In a short time the supernatural light had entirely vanished, but + the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled rhythm, from behind the + hill. Maskull started violently, and stared around him like a suddenly + awakened sleeper. +

+

+ He saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards off. + At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, calling out.... + She did not look around. When he had lessened the distance between them by + a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and fall. She did not get up again, + but lay motionless where she fell. +

+

+ He flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were realised. + Life had departed. +

+

+ Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman + grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful + to him as at that moment. +

+
+

+ He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept—but, + between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and + listened to the distant drum beats. +

+

+ An hour passed—two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. + Maskull lifted Sullenbode’s dead body on to his shoulders, and + started to walk toward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He intended + to look for water in which to wash the corpse of his beloved, and earth in + which to bury her. +

+

+ When he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which they + had sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead girl on the + stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over toward Barey. +

+

+ After that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ The day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull awoke + from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The air was cool + and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was singing; the song + consisted of only two notes, but it was so plaintive and heartbreaking + that he scarcely knew how to endure it. +

+

+ The eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band of + chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was blue-tinted, + mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was visible. +

+

+ The saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had descended + that distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, like a huge + flying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay perhaps fifteen + hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was rough, and the angle was + excessively steep, though not precipitous. It was above a mile across. On + each side of it, east and west, the dark walls of the ridge descended + sheer. At the point where the pass sprang outward they were two thousand + feet from top to bottom, but as the ridge went upward, on the one hand + toward Adage, on the other toward Sarclash, they attained almost + unbelievable heights. Despite the great breadth and solidity of the pass, + Maskull felt as though he were suspended in midair. +

+

+ The patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked + Sullenbode’s grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, + with a long, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white steam + of a hot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where he sat he + was unable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately flowed, but it + was in that pool that he had last night washed first of all the dead girl’s + body, and then his own. +

+

+ He got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him dully. + For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed by + imperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. The sky + was nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the mighty ridge + behind him began to emerge from the morning mist... there was a part of + Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic Adage itself, which he could + only take in by throwing his head right back. +

+

+ He gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his desires + were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do nothing. He thought + he would go to Barey. +

+

+ He went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting + beside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag. +

+

+ Maskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin shirt + and breeches. His face was stern, yellow, and ugly. He eyed Maskull + without smiling or getting up. +

+

+ “Where in the devil’s name have you come from, Krag?” +

+

+ “The great point is, I am here.” +

+

+ “Where’s Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Not far away.” +

+

+ “It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me + in such a damnable fashion?” +

+

+ “You were strong enough to get through alone.” +

+

+ “So it turned out, but how were you to know?.... Anyway, you’ve + timed it well. It seems I am to die today.” +

+

+ Krag scowled. “You will die this morning.” +

+

+ “If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?” +

+

+ “You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is + there to live for?” +

+

+ “Nothing,” said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. “I am + quite ready. I have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... + So now you’ve come to rejoin me. Where are we going?” +

+

+ “Through Barey.” +

+

+ “And what about Nightspore?” +

+

+ Krag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. “We won’t wait + for him. He’ll be there as soon as we shall.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “At our destination.... Come! The sun’s rising.” +

+
+

+ As they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, huge + and white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of the dawn + vanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some trees and plants, + the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in sleep. +

+

+ Maskull pointed them out to his companion. +

+

+ “How is it the sunshine doesn’t open them?” +

+

+ “Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain.” +

+

+ “How long will it be before that sun rises?” +

+

+ “Some time yet.” +

+

+ “Shall I live to see it, do you think?” +

+

+ “Do you want to?” +

+

+ “At one time I did, but now I’m indifferent.” +

+

+ “Keep in that humour, and you’ll do well. Once for all, there’s + nothing worth seeing on Tormance.” +

+

+ After a few minutes Maskull said, “Why did we come here, then?” +

+

+ “To follow Surtur.” +

+

+ “True. But where is he?” +

+

+ “Closer at hand than you think, perhaps.” +

+

+ “Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is + supernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow + connected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what is + Surtur?” +

+

+ “Don’t disturb yourself about that. You will never know.” +

+

+ “Do you know?” +

+

+ “I know,” snarled Krag. +

+

+ “The devil here is called Krag,” went on Maskull, peering into + his face. +

+

+ “As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil.” +

+

+ “Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I + to believe of you?” +

+

+ “Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman.” +

+

+ They continued descending the landslip. The sun’s rays had grown + insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, + Maskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were + travelling toward a lake district. +

+

+ “What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days, + Krag? What happened to the torpedo?” +

+

+ “You’re just about on the same mental level as a man who sees + a brand-new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding.” +

+

+ “What palace have you been building, then?” +

+

+ “We have not been idle,” said Krag. “While you have been + murdering and lovemaking, we have had our work.” +

+

+ “And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re an open book. Now you’ve got a mortal heart + wound on account of a woman you knew for six hours.” +

+

+ Maskull turned pale. “Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman + for six hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your leather + heart. You haven’t even the feelings of an insect.” +

+

+ “Behold the child defending its toys!” said Krag, grinning + faintly. +

+

+ Maskull stopped short. “What do you want with me, and why did you + bring me here?” +

+

+ “It’s no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect,” + said Krag, pulling him into motion again. “The distance has got to + be covered, however often we pull up.” +

+

+ When he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through his + heart. +

+

+ “I can’t go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You’re + something more than a man—whether good or evil, I can’t say.” +

+

+ Krag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull’s + remark, but after a pause said, “So you’ve been trying to find + Surtur on your own account, during the intervals between killing and + fondling?” +

+

+ “What was that drumming?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “You needn’t look so important. We know you had your ear to + the keyhole. But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing + for you, my friend.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled rather bitterly. “At all events, I listen through no + more keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing + any more, from this time forward.” +

+

+ “Brave words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will + make one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more.” +

+

+ “Now I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don’t you? Well, + that may prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all.” +

+

+ The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour + later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was + approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it would + clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive, saucer-shaped + ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was glowing with bright + morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands of feet higher still, + guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In front of them, starting + from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting wilderness of little + lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark green; the forests were + asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain. +

+

+ “Are we now in Barey?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes—and there is one of the natives.” +

+

+ There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull did + not see it. +

+

+ A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees, apparently + waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and beardless, and was + still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark blue, loosely flowing + robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His face, which was not + disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest, and grave, yet + somehow remarkably pleasing. +

+

+ Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull’s hand, but even + while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The + latter responded with a scowling grin. +

+

+ When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone, but + it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and variety + of tone. +

+

+ “I’ve been waiting for you here since sunrise,” he said. + “Welcome to Barey, Maskull! Let’s hope you’ll forget + your sorrows here, you over-tested man.” +

+

+ Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. “What made you + expect me, and how do you know my name?” +

+

+ The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. “I’m + Gangnet. I know most things.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you a greeting for me too—Gangnet?” asked + Krag, thrusting his forbidding features almost into the other’s + face. +

+

+ “I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome.” +

+

+ “And I know you, Gangnet—you man-woman.... Well, we are here + together, and you must make what you can of it. We are going down to the + Ocean.” +

+

+ The smile faded from Gangnet’s face. “I can’t drive you + away, Krag—but I can make you the unwelcome third.” +

+

+ Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. “That + bargain suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have + the shadow, and much good may it do you.” +

+

+ “Now that it’s all arranged so satisfactorily,” said + Maskull, with a hard smile, “permit me to say that I don’t + desire any society at all at present.... You take too much for granted, + Krag. You have played the false friend once already.... I presume I’m + a free agent?” +

+

+ “To be a free man, one must have a universe of one’s own,” + said Krag, with a jeering look. “What do you say, Gangnet—is + this a free world?” +

+

+ “Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man’s + privilege,” returned Gangnet tranquilly. “Maskull is quite + within his rights, and if you’ll engage to leave him I’ll do + the same.” +

+

+ “Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won’t + get rid of me so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” muttered Maskull. “Let + everyone join in the procession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, + anyhow, if what they say is true.” +

+

+ “I’ll lead the way,” said Gangnet. “You don’t + know this country, of course, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some + miles farther down, we shall be able to travel by water, but at present we + must walk, I fear.” +

+

+ “Yes, you fear—you fear!” broke out Krag, in a + highpitched, scraping voice. “You eternal loller!” +

+

+ Maskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There seemed to + be a determined hostility between the two, which indicated an intimate + previous acquaintance. +

+

+ They set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for a + mile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that flowed + beside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured leaves were + all folded. There was no underbrush—they walked on clean, brown + earth, A distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, but the air was + pleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate them. The bright lake + outside looked cool and poetic. +

+

+ Gangnet pressed Maskull’s arm affectionately. “If the bringing + of you from your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would have + brought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have escaped + the dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to you.” +

+

+ “And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the + same.” +

+

+ “You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference + whether one sees darkness through the light, or brightness through the + shadows.” +

+

+ “A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly + prefer to know it as it really is.” +

+

+ “The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman’s + thoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and + Pleasantness. Even Krag won’t have the effrontery to deny that.” +

+

+ “It’s very nice here,” said Krag, looking around him + malignantly. “One only wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to + complete it.” +

+

+ Maskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. “Last night, when I was + struggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight—then I thought + the world beautiful.” +

+

+ “Poor Sullenbode!” said Gangnet, sighing. +

+

+ “What! You knew her?” +

+

+ “I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show + your own nobility. I think all women are noble.” +

+

+ “There may be millions of noble women, but there’s only one + Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “If Sullenbode can exist,” said Gangnet, “the world + cannot be a bad place.” +

+

+ “Change the subject.... The world’s hard and cruel, and I am + thankful to be leaving it.” +

+

+ “On one point, though, you both agree,” said Krag, smiling + evilly. “Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced at him coldly. “We know your peculiar theories, + Krag. You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could + not go on being, without pleasure.” +

+

+ “So Gangnet thinks!” jeered Krag. +

+

+ They came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a + little cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh series of + lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big mountain slope, + built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose border they had been + travelling was not banked at the end, but overflowed to the lower level in + half a dozen beautiful, threadlike falls, white and throwing off spray. + The cliff was not perpendicular, and the men found it easy to negotiate. +

+

+ At the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and they + had nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled through the + heart of it; they followed its bank. +

+

+ “It has occurred to me,” said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, + “that Alppain may be my death. Is that so?” +

+

+ “These trees don’t fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is + a wonderful, life-bringing sun.” +

+

+ “The reason I ask is—I’ve seen its afterglow, and it + produced such violent sensations that a very little more would have proved + too much.” +

+

+ “Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain + itself, it will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling of + wills inside you.” +

+

+ “And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull,” said Krag, + grinning, “is Crystalman’s trump card.” +

+

+ “How do you mean?” +

+

+ “You’ll see. You’ll renounce the world so eagerly that + you’ll want to stay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled. “Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither + enjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?” +

+

+ Maskull turned toward Krag. “It’s very odd, but I don’t + understand your creed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?” +

+

+ Krag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. “What, + because they have left off stroking you?” he exclaimed, laughing and + showing his discoloured teeth. +

+

+ “Whoever you are, and whatever you want,” said Maskull, + “you seem very certain of yourself.” +

+

+ “Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn’t + you! That would be an excellent way of destroying lies.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and picked + up two or three objects that resembled eggs. +

+

+ “To eat?” asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift. +

+

+ “Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one + mustn’t insult Krag by offering him a pleasure—especially such + a low pleasure.” +

+

+ Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid + contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the remaining egg + out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and + stuck, a splash of slime. +

+

+ “I don’t wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a + filthier sight than a smashed pleasure?” +

+

+ Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull’s arm. +

+

+ After they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs and + slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep + mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles, + during which space the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet, + at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this + immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous + forest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they + had hitherto passed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in sleep, + but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the fact that they + were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been completely + intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with light, and this + light, being tinged with the colour of the branches, was a soft and lovely + rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the illumination, that Maskull’s + spirits immediately started to rise, although he did not wish it. +

+

+ He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive. +

+

+ “What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!” + rasped Krag mockingly. “Why isn’t Sullenbode here?” +

+

+ Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag + recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit + discomposed. +

+

+ “Still what I said—was it true or untrue?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at him sternly. “You seem to regard yourself as a + necessary evil. I’m under no obligation to go on with you any + farther. I think we had better part.” +

+

+ Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness. +

+

+ “What do you say—do we part when Maskull pleases, or + when I please?” +

+

+ “Keep your temper, Maskull,” said Gangnet, showing Krag his + back. “I know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened + onto you there’s only one way of making him lose his hold, by + ignoring him. Despise him—say nothing to him, don’t answer his + questions. If you refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not + here.” +

+

+ “I’m beginning to be tired of it all,” said Maskull. + “It seems as if I shall add one more to my murders, before I have + finished.” +

+

+ “I smell murder in the air,” exclaimed Krag, pretending to + sniff. “But whose?” +

+

+ “Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on + fire.” +

+

+ “I’ll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this + accursed forest?” +

+

+ “It’s some way yet, but when we’re once out we can take + to the water, and you will be able to rest, and think.” +

+

+ “And brood comfortably over your sufferings,” added Krag. +

+

+ None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the open + day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to run, + rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation, even if + they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an hour they + were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of them as far + as they could see. +

+

+ Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a succession + of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of tree-covered land. + The lake immediately before them had its small end to the forest. It was + there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the sides and end was + shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but in the middle, beginning + a few yards from the shore, there was a perceptible current away from + them. In view of this current, it was difficult to decide whether it was a + lake or a river. Some little floating islands were in the shallows. +

+

+ “Is it here that we take to the water?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, here,” answered Gangnet. +

+

+ “But how?” +

+

+ “One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the + stream.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Where will it carry us to?” +

+

+ “Come, get on, get on!” said Krag, laughing uncouthly. “The + morning’s wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are + going to the Ocean.” +

+

+ “If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?” +

+

+ “Gangnet will murder you.” +

+

+ “You lie!” said Gangnet. “I wish Maskull nothing but + good.” +

+

+ “At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it + matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well, + Gangnet, I see you’re as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the + work.” +

+

+ He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, + splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was up + to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet from + end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there was no + form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it, and started + shoving it toward the current, apparently without having unduly to exert + himself. When it was within the influence of the stream the others waded + out to him, and all three climbed on. +

+

+ The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles an + hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there was no + shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and + periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches + next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an + animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of the + stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to be + floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary. +

+

+ Krag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet’s hat, crushing it + together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream. +

+

+ “Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?” he asked with + a harsh guffaw—“Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it + somewhere.” +

+

+ Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His + dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and noble, + and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was + strangely appealing to the feelings. +

+

+ “Let Maskull judge,” he said with proud composure, “whether + I have anything to be ashamed of.” +

+

+ “There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head,” + muttered Maskull, staring hard at him. +

+

+ “A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens + when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?” +

+

+ “What enterprises?” asked Maskull, in astonishment. +

+

+ “What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull.” +

+

+ “There are two forms of practical activity,” replied Gangnet + calmly. “One may either build up, or destroy.” +

+

+ “No, there’s a third species. One may steal—and not even + know one is stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money.” +

+

+ Maskull raised his eyebrows. “Where have you two met before?” +

+

+ “I’m paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull, but once upon a + time Gangnet paid me a visit.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “In my home—whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief.” +

+

+ “You are speaking in riddles, and I don’t understand you. I + don’t know either of you, but it’s clear that if Gangnet is a + poet, you’re a buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet.” +

+

+ Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length, with + his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep, and snoring + disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow, repulsive face + with strong disfavour. +

+

+ Two hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile distant. In + front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, the Lichstorm + Mountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had gathered together. + The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to be of a strange colour. It + was an intense jale-blue. The whole northern atmosphere was stained with + ulfire. +

+

+ Maskull’s mind grew disturbed. “Alppain is rising, Gangnet.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled wistfully. “It begins to trouble you?” +

+

+ “It is so solemn—tragical, almost—yet it recalls me to + Earth. Life was no longer important—but this is important.” +

+

+ “Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you + will be like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open day. + Then you will ask yourself how you could have been blind.” +

+

+ The two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in the + north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary colours, + among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the principal character of + an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding character of this dawn + was wildness. It did not baffle the understanding, but the heart. Maskull + felt no inarticulate craving to seize and perpetuate the sunrise, and make + it his own. Instead of that, it agitated and tormented him, like the + opening bars of a supernatural symphony. +

+

+ When he looked back to the south, Branchspell’s day had lost its + glare, and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. He + instinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from darkness to + light. +

+

+ “If those were Crystalman’s thoughts that you showed me + before, Gangnet, these must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I + am feeling now, he must have felt before me.” +

+

+ “He is all feeling, Maskull—don’t you understand + that?” +

+

+ Maskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not + reply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the + beginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious that + Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had by this + time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides they were + surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and shut out all sight + of land. Krag was still sleeping—an ugly, wrinkled monstrosity. +

+

+ Maskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its dark + green colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency. +

+

+ “Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Then nothing remains except my death.” +

+

+ “Don’t think of death, but life.” +

+

+ “It’s growing brighter—at the same time, more sombre. + Krag seems to be fading away....” +

+

+ “There is Alppain!” said Gangnet, touching his arm. +

+

+ The deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull was + struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. His emotions + were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his body. The great blue + orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an awful eye watching him.... it + shot above the sea with a bound, and Alppain’s day commenced. +

+

+ “What do you feel?” Gangnet still held his arm. +

+

+ “I have set myself against the Infinite,” muttered Maskull. +

+

+ Suddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea swept + through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy. +

+

+ “Why, Gangnet—I am nothing.” +

+

+ “No, you are nothing.” +

+

+ The mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the two + suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast by Alppain + were not black, but were composed of white daylight. +

+

+ “Then nothing can hurt me,” said Maskull with a peculiar + smile. +

+

+ Gangnet smiled too. “How could it?” +

+

+ “I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped + away, leaving me clean and free.” +

+

+ “Do you now understand life, Maskull?” +

+

+ Gangnet’s face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual + beauty; he looked as if he had descended from heaven. +

+

+ “I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this + is life.” +

+

+ “Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?” said a + jeering voice above them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his + feet. +

+

+ They both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to obscure + Alppain’s disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale. +

+

+ “What do you want with us, Krag?” asked Maskull with simple + composure. +

+

+ Krag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped around + them. +

+

+ “Don’t you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?” +

+

+ Maskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his shoulder, and + suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the ground, near the edge of + the island raft. His heart was thumping heavily and queerly; its beating + reminded him of the drum taps. He gazed languidly at the rippling water, + and it seemed to him as if he could see right through it... away, + away down... to a strange fire.... +

+

+ The water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island was + transformed into a cloud, and Maskull—alone on it—was floating + through the atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire—the fire of + Muspel. The light mounted higher and higher, until it filled the whole + world.... +

+

+ He floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, without + top or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was dealing + terrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The rhythmical, + clanging sounds were hideous. +

+

+ Presently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum beats. + “What are you doing, Krag?” he asked. +

+

+ Krag suspended his work, and turned around. +

+

+ “Beating on your heart, Maskull,” was his grinning response. +

+
+

+ The cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the air—but + it was not Gangnet—it was Crystalman. He seemed to be trying to + escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and licking him, + whichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire caught him. He + shrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a vulgar, slobbering face—and + then that too disappeared. +

+
+

+ He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by + Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there. +

+

+ “What is this Ocean called?” asked Maskull, bringing out the + words with difficulty. +

+

+ “Surtur’s Ocean.” +

+

+ Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his + arm. “Where’s Nightspore?” he asked suddenly. +

+

+ Krag bent over him with a grave expression. “You are Nightspore.” +

+

+ The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. +

+

+ Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, + “Who are you?” +

+

+ Krag maintained a gloomy silence. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull’s heart, + and he died immediately. +

+

+ Krag turned his head around. “The night is really past at last, + Nightspore.... The day is here.” +

+

+ Nightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull’s body. “Why + was all this necessary?” +

+

+ “Ask Crystalman,” replied Krag sternly. “His world is no + joke. He has a strong clutch—but I have a stronger... Maskull was + his, but Nightspore is mine.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+

+ The fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all grew as + black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his companion. The water + lapped gently against the side of the island raft. +

+

+ “You say the night is past,” said Nightspore. “But the + night is still here. Am I dead, or alive?” +

+

+ “You are still in Crystalman’s world, but you belong to it no + more. We are approaching Muspel.” +

+

+ Nightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air—a rhythmical + pulsation, in four-four time. “There is the drumming,” he + exclaimed. +

+

+ “Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?” +

+

+ “I half understand it, but I’m all confused.” +

+

+ “It’s evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty + deeply,” said Krag. “The sound comes from Muspel, but the + rhythm is caused by its travelling through Crystalman’s atmosphere. + His nature is rhythm as he loves to call it—or dull, deadly + repetition, as I name it.” +

+

+ “I remember,” said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark. +

+

+ The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A small + patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of them, began + faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea around it. +

+

+ “Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few + like me?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “If all escaped, I shouldn’t sweat, my friend... There’s + hard work, and anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us + yonder.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart sank. “Have I not yet finished, then?” +

+

+ “If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?” +

+

+ The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a tiny + oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag’s grim + and rocklike features were revealed. +

+

+ “I can’t face rebirth,” said Nightspore. “The + horror of death is nothing to it.” +

+

+ “You will choose.” +

+

+ “I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with + my own soul.” +

+

+ “You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,” + said Krag. +

+

+ Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something. The + water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that they + scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull’s + corpse had disappeared. +

+

+ The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of light + grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness above, below, + and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the semblance of a + huge, black wall, without bounds. +

+

+ “Is that really a wall we are coming to?” +

+

+ “You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is + the gate you have to enter.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart beat wildly. +

+

+ “Shall I remember?” he muttered. +

+

+ “Yes, you’ll remember.” +

+

+ “Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.” +

+

+ “There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for + you.” +

+

+ “You are returning to the struggle?” demanded Nightspore, + gnawing his fingertips. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “I dare not.” +

+

+ The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like + actual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer able to + look at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous lightning, but + it possessed this further peculiarity—that it seemed somehow to give + out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. They continued to + approach the wall of darkness, straight toward the door. The glasslike + water flowed right against it, its surface reaching up almost to the + threshold. +

+

+ They could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening. +

+

+ In a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his back + and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded by the + light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed to enlarge + itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently. +

+

+ The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and pulled + Nightspore after him. +

+

+ Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound—blows + totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark and quiet as + an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim, burning passion, which + was to light and sound what light itself is to opaque colour. +

+

+ Nightspore pressed his hand to his heart. “I don’t know if I + can endure it,” he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his + person far more vividly and distinctly than if he had been able to see + him. +

+

+ “Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious + than on earth. We can’t squander the minutes. There are terrible and + tragic affairs to attend to, which won’t wait for us... Go in at + once. Stop for nothing.” +

+

+ “Where shall I go to?” muttered Nightspore. “I have + forgotten everything.” +

+

+ “Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can’t mistake it.” +

+

+ “Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?” +

+

+ “To have your wounds healed.” +

+

+ Almost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to the + island raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at once + recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was completely + invisible; everything outside was black night. +

+

+ The moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore’s heart like + a thousand trumpets. +

+
+

+ Straight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a + steep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other way + forward. +

+

+ He put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft. He + saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was + perceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, and + deserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a ladder + to heaven. +

+

+ After he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. Each + step was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he were + carrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar chord in his + mind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a window set in a high + embrasure. +

+

+ On to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a sort of + glass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, from the world + outside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his senses, causing his + blood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a low, mocking, vulgar + laugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at the next it was like a + rhythmical vibration of the air—the silent, continuous throbbing of + some mighty engine. The two sensations were identical, yet different. They + seemed to be related in the same manner as soul and body. After feeling + them for a long time, Nightspore got down from the embrasure, and + continued his ascent, having meanwhile grown very serious. +

+

+ The climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop at + every third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. When he + had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a second window. + Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of the air, too, had + ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as distinct as before, and + its rhythm had become double. There were two separate pulses; one was in + the time of a march, the other in the time of a waltz. The first was + bitter and petrifying to feel, but the second was gay, enervating, and + horrible. +

+

+ Nightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was on + the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more important + awaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent grew more and more + exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to sit down, utterly crushed + by his own dead weight. Still, he got to the third window. +

+

+ He climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves into + vision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A gigantic, + self-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying nearly the whole of + it. This sphere was composed entirely of two kinds of active beings. There + were a myriad of tiny green corpuscles, varying in size from the very + small to the almost indiscernible. They were not green, but he somehow saw + them so. They were all striving in one direction—toward himself, + toward Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any headway. + Their action produced the marching rhythm he had previously felt, but this + rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves, but was a + consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding these atoms + of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light that gyrated + hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with them wherever they + desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the waltzing rhythm. It + seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were not only being danced about + against their will but were suffering excruciating shame and degradation + in consequence. The larger ones were steadier than the extremely small, a + few were even almost stationary, and one was advancing in the direction it + wished to go. +

+

+ He turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and + searched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what he + had just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began to take + possession of him. +

+

+ On his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him to + be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but he never + dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did not once permit + himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by the time that he had + clambered into the recess, that for several minutes he could see nothing + at all—the world seemed to be spinning round him rapidly. +

+

+ When at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all was + changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants, animals, + and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything was so + magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of life. In the + interior of every individual, of every aggregate of individuals, of every + chemical atom, he clearly perceived the presence of the green corpuscles. + But, according to the degree of dignity of the life form, they were + fragmentary or comparatively large. In the crystal, for example, the + green, imprisoned life was so minute as to be scarcely visible; in some + men it was hardly bigger; but in other men and women it was twenty or a + hundred times greater. But, great or small, it played an important part in + every individual. It appeared as if the whirls of white light, which were + the individuals, and plainly showed themselves beneath the enveloping + bodies, were delighted with existence and wished only to enjoy it, but the + green corpuscles were in a condition of eternal discontent, yet, blind and + not knowing which way to turn for liberation, kept changing form, as + though breaking a new path, by way of experiment. Whenever the old + grotesque became metamorphosed into the new grotesque, it was in every + case the direct work of the green atoms, trying to escape toward Muspel, + but encountering immediate opposition. These subdivided sparks of living, + fiery spirit were hopelessly imprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft + pleasure. They were being effeminated and corrupted—that is to say, + absorbed in the foul, sickly enveloping forms. +

+

+ Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that + spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and + understood why Krag was waiting for him below. +

+

+ He mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against him was + as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and irregularity, so that + he was not for an instant suffered to relax his efforts. Nevertheless, not + a breath stirred. +

+

+ Looking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The sphere was + still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which he was standing + he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any distinguishable shape, but + somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting sweetness. Nightspore knew that + it was Crystalman. A flood of fierce light—but it was not light, but + passion—was streaming all the time from Muspel to the Shadow, and + through it. When, however, it emerged on the other side, which was the + sphere, the light was altered in character. It became split, as by a + prism, into the two forms of life which he had previously seen—the + green corpuscles and the whirls. What had been fiery spirit but a moment + ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling individuals, each + whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a fragmentary spark of + living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back rays of Starkness, and + it flashed across him with the certainty of truth that the green sparks + were the back rays, and the whirls the forward rays, of Muspel. The former + were trying desperately to return to their place of origin, but were + overpowered by the brute force of the latter, which wished only to remain + where they were. The individual whirls were jostling and fighting with, + and even devouring, each other. This created pain, but, whatever pain they + felt, it was always pleasure that they sought. Sometimes the green sparks + were strong enough for a moment to move a little way in the direction of + Muspel; the whirls would then accept the movement, not only without demur, + but with pride and pleasure, as if it were their own handiwork—but + they never saw beyond the Shadow, they thought that they were travelling + toward it. The instant the direct movement wearied them, as + contrary to their whirling nature, they fell again to killing, dancing, + and loving. +

+

+ Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to be the + last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for he guessed + that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become manifest. Every + step upward was like a bloody life-and-death struggle. The stairs nailed + him to the ground; the air pressure caused blood to gush from his nose and + ears; his head clanged like an iron bell. When he had fought his way up a + dozen steps, he found himself suddenly at the top; the staircase + terminated in a small, bare chamber of cold stone, possessing a single + window. On the other side of the apartment another short flight of stairs + mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of the building. Before + ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the window and stared out. +

+

+ The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled the + whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow. It + had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way suggested the delicate + tints of early morning. It was so nebulous that the sphere could be + clearly distinguished through it; in extension, however, it was thick. The + sweet smell emanating from it was strong, loathsome, and terrible; it + seemed to spring from a sort of loose, mocking slime inexpressibly vulgar + and ignorant. +

+

+ The spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. It was + not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or the Many, + but something else far beyond either. It approached Crystalman, and + entered his body—if that bright mist could be called a body. It + passed right through him, and the passage caused him the most exquisite + pleasure. The Muspel-stream was Crystalman’s food. The stream + emerged from the other side on to the sphere, in a double condition. Part + of it reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but shivered into a million + fragments. These were the green corpuscles. In passing through Crystalman + they had escaped absorption by reason of their extreme minuteness. The + other part of the stream had not escaped. Its fire had been abstracted, + its cement was withdrawn, and, after being fouled and softened by the + horrible sweetness of the host, it broke into individuals, which were + the whirls of living will. +

+

+ Nightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of will + was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel joy. +

+

+ Presently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he + remembered vaguely that now only that remained. +

+

+ Halfway up, he fainted—but when he recovered consciousness he + persisted as though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head was + above the trap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical sensation + as a man stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and stood + expectantly on the stone-floored roof, looking round for his first glimpse + of Muspel. +

+

+ There was nothing. +

+

+ He was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen feet + each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the stone parapet, + with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed him. +

+

+ Suddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct + impression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was + grinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was wholly + surrounded by Crystalman’s world, and that Muspel consisted of + himself and the stone tower on which he was sitting. +

+

+ Fire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque, vulgar, + ridiculous, sweetened individuals—once Spirit—were + calling out from their degradation and agony for salvation from Muspel.... + To answer that cry there was only himself... and Krag waiting below... and + Surtur—But where was Surtur? +

+

+ The truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. Muspel was + no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure indifference the existence + side by side with it of another false world, which had no right to be. + Muspel was fighting for its life—against all that is most shameful + and frightful—against sin masquerading as eternal beauty, against + baseness masquerading as Nature, against the Devil masquerading as God.... +

+

+ Now he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no + Valhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night; but + a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death—namely, + spiritual death—inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By + what means could he hold back from this horrible war! +

+

+ During those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self—the corruption + of his life on Earth—were scorched out of Nightspore’s soul, + perhaps not for the first time. +

+

+ After sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, a + strange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in awful + mystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery that he could + not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was the voice of + Crystalman. +

+
+

+Krag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a stern + glance at Nightspore. +

+

+ “Have you seen everything?” +

+

+ “The struggle is hopeless,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “Did I not say I am the stronger?” +

+

+ “You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier.” +

+

+ “I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman’s Empire is + but a shadow on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the + bloodiest blows.... What do you mean to do?” +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him strangely. “Are you not Surtur, Krag?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. + “But what is your name on Earth?” +

+

+ “It is pain.” +

+

+ “That, too, I must have known.” +

+

+ He was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the raft. + Krag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness. +

+

+



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+ + diff --git a/old/old/1329-h.htm b/old/old/1329-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e2e06a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1329-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16118 @@ + + + + + + + + A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay + + + + +
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Voyage to Arcturus
+
+Author: David Lindsay
+
+Release Date: September 17, 2008 [EBook #1329]
+Last Updated: March 3, 2017
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

+

+

+

+ A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS. +

+

+
+

+

+ By David Lindsay +

+

+

+

+
+

+

+

+
+

+ CONTENTS +

+

+
+

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SIANCE +

+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+
+

+

+

+
+

+

+ +

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SEANCE +

+

+ On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a + fast-rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at + Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was + illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with + indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were + exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, + the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric + light was switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, + metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not + seem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from + a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the + merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the + smoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the + pointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view + of the morbid nature of his occupation. +

+

+ “Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the + conversation. “No? Then will you take a drink?” +

+

+ “Not at present, I thank you.” +

+

+ A pause. +

+

+ “Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?” +

+

+ “I see no reason to doubt it.” +

+

+ “That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be + disappointed. I have your check written out in my pocket.” +

+

+ “Afterward will do quite well.” +

+

+ “Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?” +

+

+ “I fancy so.” +

+

+ The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and + remained apathetic. +

+

+ “Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?” +

+

+ “I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.” +

+

+ “I mean the decoration of the siance room, the music, and so forth.” +

+

+ Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical + performance.” +

+

+ “That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be + ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.” +

+

+ “In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the + performance to the end.” +

+

+ He spoke rather dryly. +

+

+ “Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his + cigar into the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. +

+

+ “Will you come and see the room?” +

+

+ “Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time + arrives.” +

+

+ “Then let’s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the + drawing room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as + I am unmarried.” +

+

+ “I will be delighted,” said Backhouse coldly. +

+

+ They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive + attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium took + in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, and + wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely, with + just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at the hands + of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them. +

+

+ “What amazes me,” she half whispered, after ten minutes of + graceful, hollow conversation, “is, if you must know it, not so much + the manifestation itself—though that will surely be wonderful—as + your assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your + confidence.” +

+

+ “I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the + door, “and others see my dreams. That is all.” +

+

+ “But that’s beautiful,” responded Mrs. Jameson. She + smiled rather absently, for the first guest had just entered. +

+

+ It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd judicial + humour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carry into + private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes were + still disconcertingly bright. With the selective skill of an old man, he + immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of many comfortable + chairs. +

+

+ “So we are to see wonders tonight?” +

+

+ “Fresh material for your autobiography,” remarked Faull. +

+

+ “Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old + public servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. + You have no cause for alarm—I have studied in the school of + discretion.” +

+

+ “I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your + publishing whatever you please.” +

+

+ “You are most kind,” said the old man, with a cunning smile. +

+

+ “Trent is not coming tonight,” remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing + a curious little glance at her brother. +

+

+ “I never thought he would. It’s not in his line.” +

+

+ “Mrs. Trent, you must understand,” she went on, addressing the + ex-magistrate, “has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has + decorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has secured + the services of the sweetest little orchestra.” +

+

+ “But this is Roman magnificence.” +

+

+ “Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference,” + laughed Faull. +

+

+ “Surely, Mr. Backhouse—a poetic environment...” +

+

+ “Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to + elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my opinion. + Nature is one thing, and art is another.” +

+

+ “And I am not sure that I don’t agree with you,” said + the ex-magistrate. “An occasion like this ought to be simple, to + guard against the possibility of deception—if you will forgive my + bluntness, Mr. Backhouse.” +

+

+ “We shall sit in full light,” replied Backhouse, “and + every opportunity will be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also + ask you to submit me to a personal examination.” +

+

+ A rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival of two + more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the prosperous City + coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well known in his own circle + as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted with the + latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine and tobacco + smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into the proceedings. + Finding that no one seconded his efforts, however, he shortly subsided and + fell to examining the water colours on the walls. Lang, tall, thin, and + growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse a good deal. +

+

+ Coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone partook, + except Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor Halbart was + announced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author and lecturer on + crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental aspects. + His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other guests, but + all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately acquired + additional solemnity. He was small, meagre-looking, and mild in manner, + but was probably the most stubborn-brained of all that mixed company. + Completely ignoring the medium, he at once sat down beside Kent-Smith, + with whom he began to exchange remarks. +

+

+ At a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered, unannounced. + She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a white, demure, saintlike + face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson and full that they seemed to + be bursting with blood. Her tall, graceful body was most expensively + attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs. Jameson. She bowed to + the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance and a smile at Faull. + The latter gave her a queer look, and Backhouse, who lost nothing, saw the + concealed barbarian in the complacent gleam of his eye. She refused the + refreshment that was offered her, and Faull proposed that, as everyone had + now arrived, they should adjourn to the lounge hall. +

+

+ Mrs. Trent held up a slender palm. “Did you, or did you not, give me + carte blanche, Montague?” +

+

+ “Of course I did,” said Faull, laughing. “But what’s + the matter?” +

+

+ “Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don’t know. I have + invited a couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... The two + most extraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I am sure.” +

+

+ “It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?” +

+

+ “At least tell us their names, you provoking girl,” put in + Mrs. Jameson. +

+

+ “One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of + Nightspore. That’s nearly all that I know about them, so don’t + overwhelm me with any more questions.” +

+

+ “But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up + somewhere.” +

+

+ “But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned against convention? + I swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be here + directly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy.” +

+

+ “I don’t know them,” said Faull, “and nobody else + seems to, but, of course, we will all be very pleased to have them.... + Shall we wait, or what?” +

+

+ “I said nine, and it’s past that now. It’s quite + possible they may not turn up after all.... Anyway, don’t wait.” +

+

+ “I would prefer to start at once,” said Backhouse. +

+

+ The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been divided + for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade curtain drawn + across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half had + been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There was no + other furniture. A large fire was burning halfway along the wall, between + the chairbacks and the door. The room was brilliantly lighted by electric + bracket lamps. A sumptuous carpet covered the floor. +

+

+ Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the curtain + and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury Lane + presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then + exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the + glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against the + latter, the gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A fantastically carved + wooden couch lay before the pedestal of the statue. Near the curtain, + obliquely placed to the auditorium, was a plain oak armchair, for the use + of the medium. +

+

+ Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite + inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of + ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual + compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of so + remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward and + examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and Lang + were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the + pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part + of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest of + his party and commenced a patient, systematic search, on his own account, + for secret apparatus. Faull and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of the + temple, talking together in low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, pretending to + hold Backhouse in conversation, watched them as only a deeply interested + woman knows how to watch. +

+

+ Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a suspicious + nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing should be searched. +

+

+ “All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in + hand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands, + however, that other people who are not present would not be able to say + afterward that trickery has been resorted to.” +

+

+ To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and + sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that nothing + mechanical was in Backhouse’s possession. The guests reseated + themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for Mrs. Trent’s + friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then pressed an electric + bell, and took his own seat. +

+

+ The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur of + surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, the + beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart’s “temple” music + pulsated through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, + beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was + deeply moved. It was evident that aesthetically she was by far the most + important person present. Faull watched her, with his face sunk on his + chest, sprawling as usual. +

+

+ Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began + speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so for as + long as he was on his legs. +

+

+ “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. + That means you will see something appear in space that was not previously + there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but finally it will be + a solid body, which anyone present may feel and handle—and, for + example, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape. It + will be a real man or woman—which, I can’t say—but a man + or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an + explanation of the origin of this materialised form—where it comes + from, whence the atoms and molecules composing its tissues are derived—I + am unable to satisfy you. I am about to produce the phenomenon; if anyone + can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very grateful.... That is all I + have to say.” +

+

+ He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused for + a moment before beginning his task. +

+

+ It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door and + announced in a subdued but distinct voice: “Mr. Maskull, Mr. + Nightspore.” +

+

+ Everyone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals. Backhouse + also stood up, and stared hard at them. +

+

+ The two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed quietly + behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild sensation caused by + their appearance to subside before advancing into the room. Maskull was a + kind of giant, but of broader and more robust physique than most giants. + He wore a full beard. His features were thick and heavy, coarsely + modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes, small and black, + sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity. His hair was short, + black, and bristling. Nightspore was of middle height, but so + tough-looking that he appeared to be trained out of all human frailties + and susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed by an intense + spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both men were + dressed in tweeds. +

+

+ Before any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling masonry + caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in consternation. + It sounded as if the entire upper part of the building had collapsed. + Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to say what was + happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he gathered what was + required of him. He said he had heard nothing. In obedience to his master’s + order, he went upstairs. Nothing, however, was amiss there, neither had + the maids heard anything. +

+

+ In the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had + preserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood gnawing + his nails. +

+

+ “Perhaps you can explain it, sir?” +

+

+ “It was supernatural,” said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled + voice, turning away from his questioner. +

+

+ “I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard + it so loud.” +

+

+ He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled + down, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured + interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness. + Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent kept + stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout the entire incident, Mozart’s + hymn continued to be played. The orchestra also had heard nothing. +

+

+ Backhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be familiar to + him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not possible to effect + the materialisation by mere concentration of will, or the exercise of any + faculty; otherwise many people could have done what he had engaged himself + to do. His nature was phenomenal—the dividing wall between himself + and the spiritual world was broken in many places. Through the gaps in his + mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he summoned them, passed for a + moment timidly and awfully into the solid, coloured universe.... He could + not say how it was brought about.... The experience was a rough one for + the body, and many such struggles would lead to insanity and early death. + That is why Backhouse was stern and abrupt in his manner. The coarse, + clumsy suspicion of some of the witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of + others, were equally obnoxious to his grim, bursting heart; but he was + obliged to live, and, to pay his way, must put up with these + impertinences. +

+

+ He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed to + look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The + spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began + to feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull’s + eyes glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but + Nightspore appeared bored. +

+

+ After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become + slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the + ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and + thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and held + his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his nose. +

+

+ By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline + of an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It + hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse looked + haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair, but she + was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled down upon + the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, + solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the medium himself, + but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once or twice at Mrs. + Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was twisting a little + lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her hand. The music + went on playing. +

+

+ The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The + face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of + shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand fell + over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker spirits + of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest were grave + and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did not + appear like a death succeeding life, but like a death preliminary to life. + All felt that he might sit up at any minute. +

+

+ “Stop that music!” muttered Backhouse, tottering from his + chair and facing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars + sounded, and then total silence ensued. +

+

+ “Anyone who wants to may approach the couch,” said Backhouse + with difficulty. +

+

+ Lang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural youth. +

+

+ “You are at liberty to touch,” said the medium. +

+

+ But Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by one + stole up to the couch—until it came to Faull’s turn. He looked + straight at Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the + spectacle before her, and then not only touched the apparition but + suddenly grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful + squeeze. Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened his + eyes, looked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A cryptic smile + started playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his hand; a feeling of + intense pleasure passed through his body. +

+

+ Maskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another spell + of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the room. Neither + of them returned. +

+

+ The phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his + peculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other men more + or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but Nightspore paced + up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while Maskull attempted to + interrogate the youth. The apparition watched him with a baffling + expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was sitting apart, his face + buried in his hands. +

+

+ It was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a + stranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the room, + and then stopped. None of Faull’s friends had ever seen him before. + He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular development and a + head far too large in proportion to his body. His beardless yellow face + indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of sagacity, brutality, and + humour. +

+

+ “Aha-i, gentlemen!” he called out loudly. His voice was + piercing, and oddly disagreeable to the ear. “So we have a little + visitor here.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder in + astonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought him to the + edge of the theatre. +

+

+ “May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?” + asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding as + smoothly as he had anticipated. +

+

+ The newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great, + roaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully—but the play + was rather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the wall + before he could recover his balance. +

+

+ “Good evening, my host!” +

+

+ “And good evening to you too, my lad!” he went on, addressing + the supernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in + apparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. “I have seen someone + very like you before, I think.” +

+

+ There was no response. +

+

+ The intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom’s face. + “You have no right here, as you know.” +

+

+ The shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, which, + however, no one could understand. +

+

+ “Be careful what you are doing,” said Backhouse quickly. +

+

+ “What’s the matter, spirit usher?” +

+

+ “I don’t know who you are, but if you use physical violence + toward that, as you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove + very unpleasant.” +

+

+ “And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn’t + it, my little mercenary friend?” +

+

+ Humour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, leaving it + hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, he encircled the + soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his hairy hands and, with + a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint, unearthly shriek + sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its face was uppermost. + The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that its expression had + changed from the mysterious but fascinating smile to a vulgar, sordid, + bestial grin, which cast a cold shadow of moral nastiness into every + heart. The transformation was accompanied by a sickening stench of the + graveyard. +

+

+ The features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, passing + from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two minutes had + elapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared. +

+

+ The short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud + laugh, like nothing in nature. +

+

+ The professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull beckoned + Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check without a + word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and walked out + of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a drink. +

+

+ The stranger poked his face up into Maskull’s. +

+

+ “Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn’t you like + to see the land where this sort of fruit grows wild?” +

+

+ “What sort of fruit?” +

+

+ “That specimen goblin.” +

+

+ Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. “Who are you, and how did + you come here?” +

+

+ “Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me.” Nightspore + had moved a chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, + fanatical expression. +

+

+ “Let Krag come to me, if he wants me,” he said, in his strange + voice. +

+

+ “You see, he does know me,” uttered Krag, with a humorous + look. Walking over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. +

+

+ “Still the same old gnawing hunger?” +

+

+ “What is doing these days?” demanded Nightspore disdainfully, + without altering his attitude. +

+

+ “Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him.” +

+

+ “How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you + speaking?” asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in + perplexity. +

+

+ “Krag has something for us. Let us go outside,” replied + Nightspore. He got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following + the direction of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were + watching their little group attentively. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was + slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The + multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll of + hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly excited; he had a sense that + something extraordinary was about to happen. “What brought you to + this house tonight, Krag, and what made you do what you did? How are we + understand that apparition?” +

+

+ “That must have been Crystalman’s expression on its face,” + muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “We have discussed that, haven’t we, Maskull? Maskull is + anxious to behold that rare fruit in its native wilds.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings + toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man’s personality, yet + side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring + up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag. +

+

+ “Why do you insist on this simile?” he asked. +

+

+ “Because it is apropos. Nightspore’s quite right. That was + Crystalman’s face, and we are going to Crystalman’s country.” +

+

+ “And where is this mysterious country?” +

+

+ “Tormance.” +

+

+ “That’s a quaint name. But where is it?” +

+

+ Krag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street lamp. +

+

+ “It is the residential suburb of Arcturus.” +

+

+ “What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of + that name?” he went on, to Krag. +

+

+ “Which you have in front of you at this very minute,” said + Krag, pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the + south-eastern sky. “There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one + inhabited planet.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaming star, and again at Krag. Then he + pulled out a pipe, and began to fill it. +

+

+ “You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag.” +

+

+ “I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days.” +

+

+ “I meant to ask you—how do you know my name?” +

+

+ “It would be odd if I didn’t, seeing that I only came here on + your account. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends.” +

+

+ Maskull paused with his suspended match. “You came here on my + account?” +

+

+ “Surely. On your account and Nightspore’s. We three are to be + fellow travellers.” +

+

+ Maskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments. +

+

+ “I’m sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad.” +

+

+ Krag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. “Am I mad, + Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Has Surtur gone to Tormance?” ejaculated Nightspore in a + strangled voice, fixing his eyes on Krag’s face. +

+

+ “Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once.” +

+

+ Maskull’s heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like + a dream conversation. +

+

+ “And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things + by a total stranger.... Besides, who is this individual?” +

+

+ “Krag’s chief,” said Nightspore, turning his head away. +

+

+ “The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up.” +

+

+ “You are looking for mysteries,” said Krag, “so + naturally you are finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. + The affair is plain and serious.” +

+

+ Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. +

+

+ “Where have you come from now?” demanded Nightspore suddenly. +

+

+ “From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the + famous Starkness Observatory, Maskull?” +

+

+ “No. Where is it?” +

+

+ “On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made + there from time to time.” +

+

+ “As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur + turns out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?” +

+

+ Krag grinned again. “How long will it take you to wind up your + affairs? When can you be ready to start?” +

+

+ “You are too considerate,” said Maskull, laughing outright. + “I was beginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... + However, I have neither wife, land, nor profession, so there’s + nothing to wait for.... What is the itinerary?” +

+

+ “You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no encumbrances.” + Krag’s features became suddenly grave and rigid. “Don’t + be a fool, and refuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not offered a + second time.” +

+

+ “Krag,” replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his + pocket. “I ask you to put yourself in my place. Even if I were a man + sick for adventures, how could I listen seriously to such an insane + proposition as this? What do I know about you, or your past record? You + may be a practical joker, or you may have come out of a madhouse—I + know nothing about it. If you claim to be an exceptional man, and want my + cooperation, you must offer me exceptional proofs.” +

+

+ “And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?” +

+

+ As he spoke he gripped Maskull’s arm. A sharp, chilling pain + immediately passed through the latter’s body and at the same moment + his brain caught fire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of the + sun. He asked himself for the first time if this fantastic conversation + could by any chance refer to real things. +

+

+ “Listen, Krag,” he said slowly, while peculiar images and + conceptions started to travel in rich disorder through his mind. “You + talk about a certain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, + and I were given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come + back. For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my + life. That is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me that you’re + not talking nonsense. Produce your credentials.” +

+

+ Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually + resuming its jesting expression. +

+

+ “Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but + not much longer. You’re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip + will prove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the + unbelievers of old, you want a sign from heaven?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are + overexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep + it off.” +

+

+ Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with + the other. He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens. + The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches. +

+

+ “First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve + as a provisional sign. It’s the best I can do, unfortunately. I am + not a travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It’s + somewhat heavy.” +

+

+ Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and + then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least + twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece. +

+

+ “What stuff can this be, Krag?” +

+

+ “Look through it, my good friend. That’s what I gave it to you + for.” +

+

+ Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming + Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the + muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which to + the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became + clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was + still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But this + was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a + comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed to + shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and + raised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and + again, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens + to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip. +

+

+ “You take a glimpse too,” scraped Krag, proffering the glass + to Nightspore. +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up and down. Krag laughed + sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. “Well, Maskull, + are you satisfied?” +

+

+ “Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet + Tormance?” +

+

+ “Our future home, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull continued to ponder. “You inquire if I am satisfied. I don’t + know, Krag. It’s miraculous, and that’s all I can say about + it.... But I’m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful + astronomers at Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will + surely come.” +

+

+ “I do invite you. We set off from there.” +

+

+ “And you, Nightspore?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “The journey has to be made,” answered his friend in + indistinct tones, “though I don’t see what will come of it.” +

+

+ Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. “More remarkable adventures + than this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore.” +

+

+ “Yet he is coming.” +

+

+ “But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company.” +

+

+ Maskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary might, + in the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart swelled with + grand and painful longings, for which, however, he was unable to account + to his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was in some way bound up + with this gigantic, far-distant sun. But still he did not dare to admit to + himself Krag’s seriousness. +

+

+ He heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the lapse + of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise that they + referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and times of trains. +

+

+ “Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn’t catch + that.” +

+

+ “No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of + the day after tomorrow.” +

+

+ Maskull remained thoughtful. “What am I to think of that man?” +

+

+ “For your information,” replied Nightspore wearily, “I + have never known him to lie.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ A couple of days later, at two o’clock in the afternoon, Maskull and + Nightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven + miles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, ran + for the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty cliffs, + within sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk east wind was + blowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green waves were flecked + with white. Throughout the walk, they were accompanied by the plaintive, + beautiful crying of the gulls. +

+

+ The observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained little + community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end of the land. + There were three buildings: a small, stone-built dwelling house, a low + workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther north, a square tower of + granite masonry, seventy feet in height. +

+

+ The house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with + waste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side facing the + sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the cliff. No one + appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull could have sworn that + the whole establishment was shut up and deserted. +

+

+ He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked + vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had + obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but + could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the + door was looked. +

+

+ They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there was + only the one door. +

+

+ “This isn’t promising,” growled Maskull. “There’s + no one here..... Now you try the shed, while I go over to that tower.” +

+

+ Nightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the train, + complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull passed out + of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the tower, which stood + some way back from the cliff, he found the door heavily padlocked. Gazing + up, he saw six windows, one above the other at equal distances, all on the + east face—that is, overlooking the sea. Realising that no + satisfaction was to be gained here, he came away again, still more + irritated than before. When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore reported + that the workshop was also locked. +

+

+ “Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?” demanded + Maskull energetically. +

+

+ “The house is empty,” replied Nightspore, biting his nails. + “Better break a window.” +

+

+ “I certainly don’t mean to camp out till Krag condescends to + come.” +

+

+ He picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe + distance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The lower + pane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, + Maskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back the frame + fastening. A minute later they had climbed through and were standing + inside the house. +

+

+ The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and + neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken utensils + and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, everything was + covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was so foul that + Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room for several + months. Insects were crawling on the walls. +

+

+ They went into the other rooms on the lower floor—a scullery, a + barely furnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The same + dirt, mustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a year must + have elapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even entered. +

+

+ “Does your faith in Krag still hold?” asked Maskull. “I + confess mine is at vanishing point. If this affair isn’t one big + practical joke, it has every promise of being one. Krag never lived here + in his life.” +

+

+ “Come upstairs first,” said Nightspore. +

+

+ The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. All + the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The beds + had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been made + since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually preserved the + impressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that these impressions + were ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had accumulated on the sheets + and coverlets. +

+

+ “Who could have slept here, do you think?” interrogated + Maskull. “The observatory staff?” +

+

+ “More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly.” +

+

+ Maskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and held his + breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the sea; the third, + the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This library was now the only + room left unvisited, and unless they discovered signs of recent occupation + here Maskull made up his mind to regard the whole business as a gigantic + hoax. +

+

+ But the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air and + dust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell heavily + into an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend. +

+

+ “Now what is your opinion of Krag?” +

+

+ Nightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the window. + “He may still have left a message for us.” +

+

+ “What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?—I see no + message.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger + upon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old bottles on + one of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at him and at the + cupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine the bottles. +

+

+ There were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. The + smaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo-shaped, but + had flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand upright. Two of the + smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the others contained a colourless + liquid, and possessed queer-looking, nozzle-like stoppers that were + connected by a thin metal rod with a catch halfway down the side of the + bottle. They were labelled, but the labels were yellow with age and the + writing was nearly undecipherable. Maskull carried the filled bottles with + him to the table in front of the window, in order to get better light. + Nightspore moved away to make room for him. +

+

+ He now made out on the larger bottle the words “Solar Back Rays”; + and on the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could + distinguish something like “Arcturian Back Rays.” +

+

+ He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. “Have you been here + before, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “I guessed Krag would leave a message.” +

+

+ “Well, I don’t know—it may be a message, but it means + nothing to us, or at all events to me. What are ‘back rays’?” +

+

+ “Light that goes back to its source,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “And what kind of light would that be?” +

+

+ Nightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull’s eyes + still fixed on him, he brought out: “Unless light pulled, as well as + pushed, how would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after the + sun?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?” +

+

+ While he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the + other, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such a + manner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement to stop + it, his hand was actually descending, when—the bottle suddenly + disappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the table, but had + really vanished—it was nowhere at all. +

+

+ Maskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and + turned to Nightspore with a smile. “The message grows more + intricate.” +

+

+ Nightspore looked bored. “The valve became unfastened. The contents + have escaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the bottle + with them. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth’s + atmosphere, and the contents will dissipate, and will not reach the sun.” +

+

+ Maskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. “Does anything + prevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?” +

+

+ “Replace it in the cupboard,” said Nightspore. “Arcturus + is still below the horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the + house.” +

+

+ Maskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at the + sunlit moors. +

+

+ “Krag treats me like a child,” he remarked presently. “And + perhaps I really am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to + Krag. But why does he leave me to find out all this by myself—for I + don’t include you, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?” +

+

+ “Not before dark, I expect,” his friend replied. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ It was by this time past three o’clock. Feeling hungry, for they had + eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage, but + without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a safe in + the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was untouchable, + a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and an unopened can of + ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he came across an + uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once made preparations + for a scratch meal. +

+

+ A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it, and + he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of the + kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood made a + good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were procured and + washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the library. +

+

+ Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good appetite. + There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly black tea was + mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this concoction Maskull + drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had disappeared he was + still imbibing. +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him queerly. “Do you intend to finish the + bottle before Krag comes?” +

+

+ “Krag won’t want any, and one must do something. I feel + restless.” +

+

+ “Let us take a look at the country.” +

+

+ The cup, which was on its way to Maskull’s lips, remained poised in + the air. “Have you anything in view, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “A showplace,” answered Nightspore, biting his lip. +

+

+ Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. “Walking is + better than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How + far is it?” +

+

+ “Three or four miles each way.” +

+

+ “You probably mean something,” said Maskull, “for I’m + beginning to regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I + am growing nervous, and need incidents.” +

+

+ They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately + found themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from + Haillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower. +

+

+ Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest. + “What is that tower, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “We sail from the platform on the top.” +

+

+ “Tonight?”—throwing him a quick look. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. “Then we are looking at the + gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it.” +

+

+ “You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,” mumbled + Nightspore. +

+

+ After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved + sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it + and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way along the cliff + edge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The + two men then had some rough walking up and down hillsides and across deep + gullies. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and twilight imperceptibly + came on. They soon reached a spot where further progress appeared + impossible. The buttress of a mountain descended at a steep angle to the + very edge of the cliff, forming an impassable slope of slippery grass. + Maskull halted, stroked his beard, and wondered what the next step was to + be. +

+

+ “There’s a little scrambling here,” said Nightspore. + “We are both used to climbing, and there is not much in it.” +

+

+ He indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice a few + yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from fifteen to thirty + inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull’s consent to the + undertaking, he instantly swung himself down and started walking along + this ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing that there was no help for it, + followed him. The shelf did not extend for above a quarter of a mile, but + its passage was somewhat unnerving; there was a sheer drop to the sea, + four hundred feet below. In a few places they had to sidle along without + placing one foot before another. The sound of the breakers came up to them + in a low, threatening roar. +

+

+ Upon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized platform + of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea separated them + from the continuation of the cliffs beyond. +

+

+ “As we can’t get any further,” said Maskull, “I + presume this is your Gap of Sorgie?” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and + then lying at full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders + over the edge and began to stare straight down at the water. +

+

+ “What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?” +

+

+ Receiving no reply, however, he followed his friend’s example, and + the next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom + had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was + ineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a drum on + the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but quite distinct. + The beats were in four-four time, with the third beat slightly accented. + He now continued to hear the noise all the time he was lying there. The + beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the surf, but + seemed somehow to belong to a different world.... +

+

+ When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. “We + came here solely to hear that?” +

+

+ Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. “It’s called + locally ‘The Drum Taps of Sorgie.’ You will not hear that name + again, but perhaps you will hear the sound again.” +

+

+ “And if I do, what will it imply?” demanded Maskull in + amazement. +

+

+ “It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more + distinctly.... Now it’s growing dark, and we must get back.” +

+

+ Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It was + past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore’s words, and not of + the time. +

+ +

+ Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black + sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the + sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base of + the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was open. He + caught hold of Nightspore’s arm violently. “Look! Krag is + back.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must make haste to the house.” +

+

+ “And why not the tower? He’s probably in there, since the gate + is open. I’m going up to look.” +

+

+ Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. +

+

+ All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the + flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone + steps. “Are you coming up?” he asked. +

+

+ “No, I’ll wait here.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen + steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath. He + seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he + proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing, grew + worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his lungs + could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a ship’s + engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he completed + the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with the first + window, which was set in a high embrasure. +

+

+ Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and climbed + into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see something + from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the window at the + stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it was not a window + at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of space containing a + multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused only in one part, + where two very bright stars, like small moons in size, appeared in close + conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary object, as brilliant as + Venus and with an observable disk. One of the suns shone with a glaring + white light; the other was a weird and awful blue. Their light, though + almost solar in intensity, did not illuminate the interior of the tower. +

+

+ Maskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was gazing was + what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He had seen the sight + before, through Krag’s glass, but then the scale had been smaller, + the colors of the twin suns had not appeared in their naked reality.... + These colors seemed to him most marvellous, as if, in seeing them through + earth eyes, he was not seeing them correctly.... But it was at Tormance + that he stared the longest and the most earnestly. On that mysterious and + terrible earth, countless millions of miles distant, it had been promised + him that he would set foot, even though he might leave his bones there. + The strange creatures that he was to behold and touch were already living, + at this very moment. +

+

+ A low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard away. + “Don’t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an + instrument, to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when + he wakes you must die. You will go, but he will return.” +

+

+ Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was + in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. +

+

+ The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he redescended + to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his sensation of weight + was instantly removed, but he continued panting and palpitating, like a + man who has lifted a far too heavy load. +

+

+ Nightspore’s dark form came forward. “Was Krag there?” +

+

+ “If he was, I didn’t see him. But I heard someone speak.” +

+

+ “Was it Krag?” +

+

+ “It was not Krag—but a voice warned me against you.” +

+

+ “Yes, you will hear these voices too,” said Nightspore + enigmatically. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ When they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and the + door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not there. + Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every room—at + the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the man they were + expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the premises. Groping their + way into the library, they sat down in the total darkness to wait, for + nothing else remained to be done. Maskull lit his pipe, and began to drink + the remainder of the whisky. Through the open window sounded in their ears + the trainlike grinding of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. +

+

+ “Krag must be in the tower after all,” remarked Maskull, + breaking the silence. +

+

+ “Yes, he is getting ready.” +

+

+ “I hope he doesn’t expect us to join him there. It was beyond + my powers—but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic + pull of some sort.” +

+

+ “It is Tormantic gravity,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “I understand you—or, rather, I don’t—but it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ He went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the neat + liquor. “Who is Surtur?” he demanded abruptly. +

+

+ “We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master.” +

+

+ Maskull digested this. “I fancy you are right, for though I know + nothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you + personally acquainted with him?” +

+

+ “I must be... I forget...” replied Nightspore in a choking + voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the blackness + of the room. +

+

+ “Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of + them?... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where we are + going?” +

+

+ “You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions—I + can’t answer them.” +

+

+ “Then let us go on waiting for Krag,” said Maskull coldly. +

+

+ Ten minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep was + heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating heart. +

+

+ Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly + glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and + forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he + strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light hardly + served to illuminate the walls. +

+

+ “You have got here, then, Maskull?” +

+

+ “So it seems—but I shan’t thank you for your + hospitality, for it has been conspicuous by its absence.” +

+

+ Krag ignored the remark. “Are you ready to start?” +

+

+ “By all means—when you are. It is not so entertaining here.” +

+

+ Krag surveyed him critically. “I heard you stumbling about in the + tower. You couldn’t get up, it seems.” +

+

+ “It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start + takes place from the top.” +

+

+ “But your other doubts are all removed?” +

+

+ “So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing + to see what you can do.” +

+

+ “Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that + until you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the + gravitation of Tormance?” +

+

+ “Then I repeat, it’s an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can’t + get up.” +

+

+ Krag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp knife. +

+

+ “Remove your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve,” he + directed. +

+

+ “Do you propose to make an incision with that?” +

+

+ “Yes, and don’t start difficulties, because the effect is + certain, but you can’t possibly understand it beforehand.” +

+

+ “Still, a cut with a pocket-knife—” began Maskull, + laughing. +

+

+ “It will answer, Maskull,” interrupted Nightspore. +

+

+ “Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe,” said + Krag. “Let us see what your blood is made of.” +

+

+ Nightspore obeyed. +

+

+ Krag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and almost + savage slash at Maskull’s upper arm. The wound was deep, and blood + flowed freely. +

+

+ “Do I bind it up?” asked Maskull, scowling with pain. +

+

+ Krag spat on the wound. “Pull your shirt down, it won’t bleed + any more.” +

+

+ He then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation with + grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor. +

+

+ An awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through Maskull’s + body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to faint, but it + subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing but a gnawing ache + in the injured arm, just strong enough to make life one long discomfort. +

+

+ “That’s finished,” said Krag. “Now you can follow + me.” +

+

+ Picking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others hastened + after him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment later their + footsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, resounded through the + deserted house. Krag waited till they were out, and then banged the front + door after them with such violence that the windows shook. +

+

+ While they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught his + arm. “I heard a voice up those stairs.” +

+

+ “What did it say?” +

+

+ “That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return.” +

+

+ Krag smiled. “The journey is getting notorious,” he remarked, + after a pause. “There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you + want to return?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious + enough to be mentioned.” +

+

+ “It is not a bad thing to hear voices,” said Krag, “but + you mustn’t for a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you + out of the night world.” +

+

+ When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately set + foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up, bearing + the lantern. Maskull followed him with some trepidation, in view of his + previous painful experience on these stairs, but when, after the first + half-dozen steps, he discovered that he was still breathing freely, his + dread changed to relief and astonishment, and he could have chattered like + a girl. +

+

+ At the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stopping, but + Maskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his acquaintance + with the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. The lens had lost + its magic property. It had become a common sheet of glass, through which + the ordinary sky field appeared. +

+

+ The climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again mounted + and stared out, but still the common sights presented themselves. After + that, he gave up and looked through no more windows. +

+

+ Krag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so that he + had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the top, he saw + yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened door. His + companions were standing just inside a small room, shut off from the + staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely furnished and contained + nothing of astronomical interest. The lantern was resting on a table. +

+

+ Maskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. “Are we at + the top?” +

+

+ “Except for the platform over our heads,” replied Krag. +

+

+ “Why didn’t that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in + the evening?” +

+

+ “Oh, you missed your opportunity,” said Krag, grinning. + “If you had finished your climb then, you would have seen + heart-expanding sights. From the fifth window, for example, you would have + seen Tormance like a continent in relief; from the sixth you would have + seen it like a landscape.... But now there’s no need.” +

+

+ “Why not—and what has need got to do with it?” +

+

+ “Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the + same reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no + necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route.” +

+

+ “Very well,” said Maskull, not quite understanding what he + meant. “But is this Surtur’s den?” +

+

+ “He has spent time here.” +

+

+ “I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may + not get another chance.” +

+

+ “What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There’s + no need to waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately + going on to the reality.” +

+

+ “Then let us go.” He pressed his eyeballs wearily. +

+

+ “Do we strip?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “Naturally,” answered Krag, and he began to tear off his + clothes with slow, uncouth movements. +

+

+ “Why?” demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of + the other two men. +

+

+ Krag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like an + ape’s. “Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may + sprout limbs—I don’t say we shall.” +

+

+ “A-ha!” exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his + undressing. +

+

+ Krag smote him on the back. “New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. + You like that?” +

+

+ The three men stood as nature made them. Maskull’s spirits rose + fast, as the moment of departure drew near. +

+

+ “A farewell drink to success!” cried Krag, seizing a bottle + and breaking its head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, but + he poured the amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups. +

+

+ Perceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It was as + if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag dropped onto + the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his legs in the air. He + tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a little horseplay went on + between the two. Nightspore took no part in it, but walked to and fro, + like a hungry caged animal. +

+

+ Suddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, piercing wail, + such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It ceased abruptly, and was + not repeated. +

+

+ “What’s that?” called out Maskull, disengaging himself + impatiently from Krag. +

+

+ Krag rocked with laughter. “A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce + the bagpipes of its earth life—in honour of our departure.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned to Krag. “Maskull will sleep throughout the + journey?” +

+

+ “And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you + passengers can amuse yourselves as you please.” +

+

+ “Are we off at last?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a + Rubicon!... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so to + arrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours.” +

+

+ “Then you assert that Surtur is already there?” +

+

+ “Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller.” +

+

+ “Won’t I see him?” +

+

+ Krag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t forget + that you have asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will + know more about him than you do, but your memory will be your worst + friend.” +

+

+ He led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the flat + roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric torch. +

+

+ Maskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey them + through the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet long, eight + wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian back rays was in + front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was directed toward the + south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon a flat platform, raised + about four feet above the level of the roof, so as to encounter no + obstruction on starting its flight. +

+

+ Krag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them to enter. + Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the gigantic, + far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now onward. He frowned, + shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. Krag clambered past them + onto his pilot’s seat. He threw the flashlight through the open + door, which was then carefully closed, fastened, and screwed up. +

+

+ He pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its platform, + and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its speed increased + sensibly, though not excessively, until the approximate limits of the + earth’s atmosphere were reached. Krag then released the speed valve, + and the car sped on its way with a velocity more nearly approaching that + of thought than of light. +

+

+ Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the + rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness oppressed + him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the thirteenth + attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily. +

+

+ The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore’s face. The + alterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least + interest for him. +

+

+ Krag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness his + phosphorescent charts and gauges. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind was + blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never + experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was + unable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A numbing pain, + which he could not identify with any region of his frame, acted from now + onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his other sensations. It gnawed + away at him continuously; sometimes it embittered and irritated him, at + other times he forgot it. +

+

+ He felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he discovered + there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, having a cavity in + the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. Then he also became + aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, an inch below the ear. +

+

+ From the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long as his + arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible. +

+

+ As soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new organs, + his heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be their use, they + proved one thing—that he was in a new world. +

+

+ One part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull cried out + to his companions, but received no response. This frightened him. He went + on shouting out, at irregular intervals—equally alarmed at the + silence and at the sound of his own voice. Finally, as no answering hail + came, he thought it wiser not to make too much noise, and after that he + lay quiet, waiting in cold blood for what might happen. +

+

+ In a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were not + his friends. +

+

+ A pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black night, + while in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one would have said + that day was breaking. The brightness went on imperceptibly increasing for + a very long time. +

+

+ Maskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the sand + was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with black stems + and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible. +

+

+ The day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before long + the brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the midday + sun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull welcomed it—it + relieved his pain and diminished his sense of crushing weight. The wind + had dropped with the rising of the sun. +

+

+ He now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. He was + unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially dissolved, and all + that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of red sand dotted with ten + or twenty bushes. +

+

+ He felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started forward in + nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the sand. Looking up + over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see a woman standing beside + him. +

+

+ She was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather + classically draped. According to earth standards she was not beautiful, + for, although her face was otherwise human, she was endowed—or + afflicted—with the additional disfiguring organs that Maskull had + discovered in himself. She also possessed the heart tentacle. But when he + sat up, and their eyes met and remained in sympathetic contact, he seemed + to see right into a soul that was the home of love, warmth, kindness, + tenderness, and intimacy. Such was the noble familiarity of that gaze, + that he thought he knew her. After that, he recognised all the loveliness + of her person. She was tall and slight. All her movements were as graceful + as music. Her skin was not of a dead, opaque colour, like that of an earth + beauty, but was opalescent; its hue was continually changing, with every + thought and emotion, but none of these tints was vivid—all were + delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very long, loosely plaited, + flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull had familiarised himself + with them, imparted something to her face that was unique and striking. He + could not quite define it to himself, but subtlety and inwardness seemed + added. The organs did not contradict the love of her eyes or the angelic + purity of her features, but nevertheless sounded a deeper note—a + note that saved her from mere girlishness. +

+

+ Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely any + humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised his + plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying over + her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a darker, more + masculine colour. +

+

+ “Do you think you can put it on by yourself?” +

+

+ He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not sounded. +

+

+ He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the + complications of the drapery. +

+

+ “Poor man—how you are suffering!” she said, in the same + inaudible language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she + said was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead. +

+

+ “Where am I? Is this Tormance?” he asked. As he spoke, he + staggered. +

+

+ She caught him, and helped him to sit down. “Yes. You are with + friends.” +

+

+ Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in English. + Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so fresh, nervous, + and girlish. “I can now understand your language. It was strange at + first. In the future I’ll speak to you with my mouth.” +

+

+ “This is extraordinary! What is this organ?” he asked, + touching his forehead. +

+

+ “It is named the ‘breve.’ By means of it we read one + another’s thoughts. Still, speech is better, for then the heart can + be read too.” +

+

+ He smiled. “They say that speech is given us to deceive others.” +

+

+ “One can deceive with thought, too. But I’m thinking of the + best, not the worst.” +

+

+ “Have you seen my friends?” +

+

+ She scrutinised him quietly, before answering. “Did you not come + alone?” +

+

+ “I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost + consciousness on arrival, and I haven’t seen them since.” +

+

+ “That’s very strange! No, I haven’t seen them. They can’t + be here, or we would have known it. My husband and I—” +

+

+ “What is your name, and your husband’s name?” +

+

+ “Mine is Joiwind—my husband’s is Panawe. We live a very + long way from here; still, it came to us both last night that you were + lying here insensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come + to you, but in the end I won.” Here she laughed. “I won, + because I am the stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in + perception.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind!” said Maskull simply. +

+

+ The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. “Oh, why do + you say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at + the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood.” +

+

+ “What is this?” he demanded, rather puzzled. +

+

+ “It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world. + Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.” +

+

+ Maskull flushed. “I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won’t + it hurt you?” +

+

+ “If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will + share the pain.” +

+

+ “This is a new kind of hospitality to me,” he muttered. +

+

+ “Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” asked Joiwind, half + smiling, half agitated. +

+

+ “I can’t answer for any of my actions in this world. I + scarcely know where I am.... Why, yes—of course I would, Joiwind.” +

+

+ While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled away + from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog-charged. The + desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, except one, where + there was a sort of little oasis—some low hills, clothed sparsely + with little purple trees from base to summit. It was about a quarter of a + mile distant. +

+

+ Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of + nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull + expostulated. +

+

+ “Really, this part of it is nothing,” she said, laughing. + “And if it were—a sacrifice that is no sacrifice—what + merit is there in that?... Come now—your arm!” +

+

+ The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a milky, + opalescent fluid. +

+

+ “Not that one!” said Maskull, shrinking. “I have already + been cut there.” He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth. +

+

+ Joiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds + together, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull’s + for a long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through + the incision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. After + about five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he wanted to + remove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his way, but it was + none too soon—she stood there pale and dispirited. +

+

+ She looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if + strange depths had opened up before her eyes. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “Where have you come from, with this awful blood?” +

+

+ “From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for + this world, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I am + sorry I let you have your way.” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t say that! There was nothing else to be done. We + must all help one another. Yet, somehow—forgive me—I feel + polluted.” +

+

+ “And well you may, for it’s a fearful thing for a girl to + accept in her own veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. + If I had not been so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it.” +

+

+ “But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? Why + did you come here, Maskull?” +

+

+ He was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. “Will you + think it foolish if I say I hardly know?—I came with those two men. + Perhaps I was attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of + adventure.” +

+

+ “Perhaps,” said Joiwind. “I wonder... These friends of + yours must be terrible men. Why did they come?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur.” +

+

+ Her face grew troubled. “I don’t understand it. One of them at + least must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur—or + Shaping, as he is called here—he can’t be really bad.” +

+

+ “What do you know of Surtur?” asked Maskull in astonishment. +

+

+ Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved + restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. “I see.... + and yet I don’t see,” she said at last. “It is very + difficult.... Your God is a dreadful Being—bodyless, unfriendly, + invisible. Here we don’t worship a God like that. Tell me, has any + man set eyes on your God?” +

+

+ “What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?” +

+

+ “I want to know.” +

+

+ “In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy + men are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are + past.” +

+

+ “Our world is still young,” said Joiwind. “Shaping goes + among us and converses with us. He is real and active—a friend and + lover. Shaping made us, and he loves his work.” +

+

+ “Have you met him?” demanded Maskull, hardly believing + his ears. +

+

+ “No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an + opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting and + talking with Shaping.” +

+

+ “I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is + the same as Surtur?” +

+

+ “Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, + but a few name him Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nail. “Have you ever heard of Crystalman?” +

+

+ “That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names—which + shows how much he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of affection.” +

+

+ “It’s odd,” said Maskull. “I came here with quite + different ideas about Crystalman.” +

+

+ Joiwind shook her hair. “In that grove of trees over there stands a + desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we’ll go on + our way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It’s a long way off, and we + must get there before Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Now, what is Blodsombre?” +

+

+ “For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell’s + rays are so hot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?” +

+

+ Joiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. “Naturally we don’t + take our names from you, Maskull. I don’t think our names are very + poetic, but they follow nature.” +

+

+ She took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the + tree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the upper + mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from a furnace, + struck Maskull’s head. He involuntarily looked up, but lowered his + eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that instant was a glaring + ball of electric white, three times the apparent diameter of the sun. For + a few minutes he was quite blind. +

+

+ “My God!” he exclaimed. “If it’s like this in + early morning you must be right enough about Blodsombre.” When he + had somewhat recovered himself he asked, “How long are the days + here, Joiwind?” +

+

+ Again he felt his brain being probed. +

+

+ “At this time of the year, for every hour’s daylight that you + have in summer, we have two.” +

+

+ “The heat is terrific—and yet somehow I don’t feel so + distressed by it as I would have expected.” +

+

+ “I feel it more than usual. It’s not difficult to account for + it; you have some of my blood, and I have some of yours.” +

+

+ “Yes, every time I realise that, I—Tell me, Joiwind, will my + blood alter, if I stay here long enough?—I mean, will it lose its + redness and thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like + yours?” +

+

+ “Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us.” +

+

+ “Do you mean food and drink?” +

+

+ “We eat no food, and drink only water.” +

+

+ “And on that you manage to sustain life?” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull, our water is good water,” replied Joiwind, + smiling. +

+

+ As soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The + enormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting + where it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep blue, + almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger than on + earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in which they were + walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently about forty miles + distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was shaped like a cup. + Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he was travelling in + dreamland, but for the intensity of the light, which made everything + vividly real. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. “That’s + Poolingdred.” +

+

+ “You didn’t come from there!” he exclaimed, quite + startled. +

+

+ “Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now.” +

+

+ “With the single object of finding me?” +

+

+ “Why, yes.” +

+

+ The colour mounted to his face. “Then you are the bravest and + noblest of all girls,” he said quietly, after a pause. “Without + exception. Why, this is a journey for an athlete!” +

+

+ She pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues stained + her cheeks in rapid transition. “Please don’t say any more + about it, Maskull. It makes me feel unpleasant.” +

+

+ “Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?” +

+

+ “Oh, yes. And you mustn’t be frightened at the distance. We + think nothing of long distances here—we have so much to think about + and feel. Time goes all too quickly.” +

+

+ During their conversation they had drawn near the base of the hills, which + sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. Maskull now began + to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What looked like a small patch + of purple grass, above five feet square, was moving across the sand in + their direction. When it came near enough he perceived that it was not + grass; there were no blades, but only purple roots. The roots were + revolving, for each small plant in the whole patch, like the spokes of a + rimless wheel. They were alternately plunged in the sand, and withdrawn + from it, and by this means the plant proceeded forward. Some uncanny, + semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together, moving at + one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in flight. +

+

+ Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a + dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind + caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed it + to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the air and fed on the + chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what was peculiar about it + was its colour. It was an entirely new colour—not a new shade or + combination, but a new primary colour, as vivid as blue, red, or yellow, + but quite different. When he inquired, she told him that it was known as + “ulfire.” Presently he met with a second new colour. This she + designated “jale.” The sense impressions caused in Maskull by + these two additional primary colors can only be vaguely hinted at by + analogy. Just as blue is delicate and mysterious, yellow clear and + unsubtle, and red sanguine and passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild + and painful, and jale dreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous. +

+

+ The hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird + shapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, covered + the slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and through. Some hard + fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a large apple, and shaped + like an egg, was lying in profusion underneath the trees. +

+

+ “Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don’t you eat it?” + asked Maskull. +

+

+ She looked at him tranquilly. “We don’t eat living things. The + thought is horrible to us.” +

+

+ “I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you + really sustain your bodies on water?” +

+

+ “Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull—would + you eat other men?” +

+

+ “I would not.” +

+

+ “Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow + creatures. So nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really live + on anything, water does very well.” +

+

+ Maskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he did so + another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. He found that + the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel fashion acquainting + him with the inward properties of the fruit. He could not only see, feel, + and smell it, but could detect its intrinsic nature. This nature was hard, + persistent and melancholy. +

+

+ Joiwind answered the questions he had not asked. +

+

+ “Those organs are called ‘poigns.’ Their use is to + enable us to understand and sympathise with all living creatures.” +

+

+ “What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull.” +

+

+ He threw the fruit away and flushed again. +

+

+ Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and + slowly smiled. “Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do + you know why you think so? It’s because you are still impure. By and + by you will listen to all language without shame.” +

+

+ Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle round + his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool pressure. + The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and sensitive that + it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that embraced him—a + pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced neither + voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the caress was + rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least trace of sex in + it—and so he received it. +

+

+ She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and + penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul. +

+

+ “Yes, I wish to be pure,” he muttered. “Without that + what can I ever be but a weak, squirming devil?” +

+

+ Joiwind released him. “This we call the ‘magn,’” + she said, indicating her tentacle. “By means of it what we love + already we love more, and what we don’t love at all we begin to + love.” +

+

+ “A godlike organ!” +

+

+ “It is the one we guard most jealously,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ The shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost + insufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward to + the zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull + looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result. + After staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but + suspicions had already begun to gather in his mind. +

+

+ A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by the + tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very middle shot up + a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and transparent, + crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural, circular well, + containing dark green water. +

+

+ When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the + well. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at it intently. “Is this the shrine you talked about?” +

+

+ “Yes. It is called Shaping’s Well. The man or woman who wishes + to invoke Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it.” +

+

+ “Pray for me,” said Maskull. “Your unspotted prayer will + carry more weight.” +

+

+ “What do you wish for?” +

+

+ “For purity,” answered Maskull, in a troubled voice. +

+

+ Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She held + it up to Maskull’s mouth. “You must drink too.” He + obeyed. She then stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the + soft murmurings of spring, prayed aloud. +

+

+ “Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has + come to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let him + know the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don’t spare him + pain, dear Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into him a + noble soul.” +

+

+ Maskull listened with tears in his heart. +

+

+ As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and, half + buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of dazzlingly white + pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro between distinctness + and indistinctness, like an object being focused. Then they faded out of + sight again. +

+

+ “Is that a sign from Shaping?” asked Maskull, in a low, awed + tone. +

+

+ “Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage.” +

+

+ “What can that be, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do + so, because it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, wise men + will do hereafter in full knowledge.” +

+

+ “It is right for man to pray,” said Maskull. “Good and + evil in the world don’t originate from nothing. God and Devil must + exist. And we should pray to the one, and fight the other.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must fight Krag.” +

+

+ “What name did you say?” asked Maskull in amazement. +

+

+ “Krag—the author of evil and misery—whom you call Devil.” +

+

+ He immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from learning + his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. +

+

+ “Why do you hide your mind from me?” she demanded, looking at + him strangely and changing colour. +

+

+ “In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can + scarcely grasp its meaning.” But he lied. +

+

+ Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. “The + world is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my husband, has + travelled, and he has told me things I would almost rather have not heard. + One person he met believed the universe to be, from top to bottom, a + conjurer’s cave.” +

+

+ “I should like to meet your husband.” +

+

+ “Well, we are going home now.” +

+

+ Maskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, but + was afraid of offending her, and checked himself. +

+

+ She read the mental question. “What need is there? Is not the whole + world full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish possessions?” +

+

+ An extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five + distinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body, paddled + by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to it, as it went by. “I love that beast, grotesque + as it is—perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had + children of my own, would I still love it? Which is best—to love two + or three, or to love all?” +

+

+ “Every woman can’t be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to + have a few like you. Wouldn’t it be as well,” he went on, + “since we’ve got to walk through that sun-baked wilderness, to + make turbans for our heads out of some of those long leaves?” +

+

+ She smiled rather pathetically. “You will think me foolish, but + every tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have only to + throw our robes over our heads.” +

+

+ “No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me—weren’t + these very robes once part of a living creature?” +

+

+ “Oh, no—no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they + have never been in themselves alive.” +

+

+ “You reduce life to extreme simplicity,” remarked Maskull + meditatively, “but it is very beautiful.” +

+

+ Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began + their march across the desert. +

+

+ They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight toward + Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged their way to lie + due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very tiring to his naked feet. + The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him semi-blind. He was hot, + parched, and tormented with the craving to drink; his undertone of pain + emerged into full consciousness. +

+

+ “I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer.” +

+

+ “Yes, it is queer—if it is accidental,” said Joiwind, + with a peculiar intonation. +

+

+ “Exactly!” agreed Maskull. “If they had met with a + mishap, their bodies would still be there. It begins to look like a piece + of bad work to me. They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am + here, and I must make the best of it. I will trouble no more about them.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to speak ill of anyone,” said Joiwind, + “but my instinct tells me that you are better away from those men. + They did not come here for your sake, but for their own.” +

+

+ They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint. She + twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of + confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?” +

+

+ “Yes,” she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. “But + not much—and it gives me great happiness.” +

+

+ Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born + lamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to the front, + and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete + rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into pots + of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining eyes, as + they passed. +

+

+ Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. “That’s a personal friend of + mine, Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It’s always + waltzing, and always in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere.” +

+

+ “It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is + no need for anyone to get anywhere. What I don’t quite understand is + how you manage to pass your days without ennui.” +

+

+ “That’s a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for + excitement?” +

+

+ “Something of the kind,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “That must be a disease brought on by rich food.” +

+

+ “But are you never dull?” +

+

+ “How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh + is clean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you will + understand what sort of question you have asked.” +

+

+ Farther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of the + desert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, with a + cool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a fountain in + this respect—that the water of which it was composed did not return + to the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at the summit. It was in + fact a tall, graceful column of dark green fluid, with a capital of + coiling and twisting vapours. +

+

+ When they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was the + continuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down from the + direction of the mountains. The explanation of the phenomenon was + evidently that the water at this spot found chemical affinities in the + upper air, and consequently forsook the ground. +

+

+ “Now let us drink,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ She threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face downward, + by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in following her + example. She refused to quench her thirst until she had seen him drink. He + found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. He drank copiously. It + affected his palate in a new way—with the purity and cleanness of + water was combined the exhilaration of a sparkling wine, raising his + spirits—but somehow the intoxication brought out his better nature, + and not his lower. +

+

+ “We call it ‘gnawl water’,” said Joiwind. “This + is not quite pure, as you can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is + crystal clear. But we would be ungrateful if we complained. After this you’ll + find we’ll get along much better.” +

+

+ Maskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the first + time. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and wonders that + he had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring scarlet of the sands + became separated into a score of clearly distinguished shades of red. The + sky was similarly split up into different blues. The radiant heat of + Branchspell he found to affect every part of his body with unequal + intensities. His ears awakened; the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the + sands hummed, even the sun’s rays had a sound of their own—a + kind of faint Aeolian harp. Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his + nostrils. His palate lingered over the memory of the gnawl water. All the + pores of his skin were tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived + currents of air. His poigns explored actively the inward nature of + everything in his immediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew + from her person a stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve + he exchanged thoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony + stirred him to the depths, and throughout the walk of that endless morning + he felt no more fatigue. +

+

+ When it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy margin + of a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred. +

+

+ Panawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in + white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face + and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked + skin at all—it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh, + extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the + artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness and + delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the + manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair, + which fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from + vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was still + a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the appearance of + a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and harmony. +

+

+ His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull + saw his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in + her husband’s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and + smiling. Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but + submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in + the act. +

+

+ “The stranger is red-blooded, then?” +

+

+ He was startled by Panawe’s speaking in English, and the voice too + was extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed + in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of + thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected. + How this could be, he did not know. +

+

+ “How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t say if I am really + speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my + thoughts into your tongue as I utter them.” +

+

+ “Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind + gaily. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked the husband. +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “That name must have a meaning—but again, thought is a strange + thing. I connect that name with something—but with what?” +

+

+ “Try to discover,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ “Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the + Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?” +

+

+ “There is such a myth. The hero’s name was Prometheus.” +

+

+ “Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action—but + what it all means I can’t say, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks + thoughtlessly.” +

+

+ “There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,” + said Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative. +

+

+ “Where do you come from?” +

+

+ “From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.” +

+

+ “What for?” +

+

+ “I was tired of vulgarity,” returned Maskull laconically. He + intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that Krag’s + name should not come to light. +

+

+ “That’s an honourable motive,” said Panawe. “And + what’s more, it may be true, though you spoke it as a prevarication.” +

+

+ “As far as it goes, it’s quite true,” said Maskull, + staring at him with annoyance and surprise. +

+

+ The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were + standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds + showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was dark + green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it. +

+

+ Joiwind caught his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake + will bear us?” +

+

+ Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his weight. + Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip about—nevertheless + the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by watching and imitating + Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself without assistance. After + that he found the sport excellent. +

+

+ For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind’s half + falls and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either + of the men. Her slight, draped form—dipping, bending, rising, + swaying, twisting, upon the surface of the dark water—this was a + picture Maskull could not keep his eyes away from. +

+

+ The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags, + gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in detail. + A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet. The surface of + the lake grew disturbed—so much so that Maskull had difficulty in + keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and started swimming + on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and laughed so joyously + that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight. +

+

+ They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The water + on Maskull’s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed + upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange movements + on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was working + convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his hand to his + mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured pebble. He + looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked, over his + shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection, Panawe let + the object—whatever it was—fall to the ground, and took no + more interest in it. +

+

+ “May I look?” asked Maskull; and, without waiting for + permission, he picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped + crystal of pale green. +

+

+ “Where did this come from?” he asked queerly. +

+

+ Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. “It came out of my + husband.” +

+

+ “That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t believe it. But + what is it?” +

+

+ “I don’t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an + overflowing of beauty.” +

+

+ “Beauty?” +

+

+ Joiwind smiled. “If you were to regard nature as the husband, and + Panawe as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected. +

+

+ “On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are + called artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and + out of them again. The only distinction is that their productions + are more human and intelligible.” +

+

+ “Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe, and, taking + the crystal out of Maskull’s hand, he threw it into the lake. +

+

+ The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. + Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently + tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of the + two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet thoughts. + The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight. The heat of + Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing, the radiance was + shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull’s pain steadily grew + worse. +

+

+ When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of + vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. It + was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of the + cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The hills varied + in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a thousand feet + above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind of glittering + vegetation which he could not comprehend. +

+

+ Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder, and pointed upward. + “Here you have the highest peak in the whole land—that is, + until you come to the Ifdawn Marest.” +

+

+ On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable + sensation of wild vigour and restlessness—but it passed away. +

+

+ Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower + half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it + grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth + became thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the + summit, tall forest trees appeared. +

+

+ These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the small + twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast no shadows + from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and branches were + fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, however, was the + fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two plants belonged to the + same species. +

+

+ “Won’t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?” said + Joiwind, pulling her husband’s arm. +

+

+ He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for again trespassing in his + brain. But the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is + necessarily energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is + still fluid—not yet rigid—and matter is plastic. The will + forks and sports incessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.” +

+

+ “Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after + listening attentively. “But what I don’t grasp is this—if + living creatures here sport so energetically, how does it come about that + human beings wear much the same shape as in my world?” +

+

+ “I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All + creatures that resemble Shaping must of necessity resemble one another.” +

+

+ “Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?” +

+

+ “Exactly.” +

+

+ “It is most wonderful,” said Maskull. “Then the + brotherhood of man is not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.” +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into sternness. +

+

+ Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured blossoms + of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his breve he + could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, “To me! To me!” + While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to one of + these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry immediately + ceased. +

+

+ They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A lake + occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly intercepted the + view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this mountain lake was nearly + circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile across. Its shore stood a hundred + feet below them. +

+

+ Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to + wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he + found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency. He + walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths. It + was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance, without + arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out of reach of + his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and mysterious, + seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense depth. It was + like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal length, but the + accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable time, and then + ceased. +

+

+ The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that in + which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and + unbelievable—the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. + It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only + occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. +

+

+ He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his + experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down on + the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked the + desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose dimensions + could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet he could not make + out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of transparent glass, but it + did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in it could be distinguished, + except a rolling river in the far distance, and, farther off still, on the + horizon, a line of dark mountains, of strange shapes. Instead of being + rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these heights were carved by nature into + the semblance of castle battlements, but with extremely deep indentations. +

+

+ The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. It + contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the + heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the + afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset. +

+

+ Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble + became his feelings. +

+

+ “What is that light?” +

+

+ Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. “It + is Alppain—our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are + the Ifdawn Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter.” +

+

+ “Is it imagination, or am I really being affected—tormented by + that light?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not imagination—it’s real. How can it be + otherwise when two suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same + time? Luckily you are not looking at Alppain itself. It’s invisible + here. You would need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.” +

+

+ “Why do you say ‘luckily’?” +

+

+ “Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be + more than you could bear.... But I don’t know.” +

+

+ For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very + thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye + chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and + stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. + Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led + the way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain and + terminated in the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The host + took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly sprinkled + the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent light + gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and continued to + illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was no furniture. + Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches. +

+

+ The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband tended + her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, + energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the + sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was + distressed. +

+

+ Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. “It’s quite true + this has been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will + lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of + sacrifice.” +

+

+ “I can’t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,” + said Maskull, “and she has been twice the distance.” +

+

+ “Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that’s why she + is so strong.” +

+

+ “You know she gave me some of it?” +

+

+ “Otherwise you couldn’t even have started.” +

+

+ “I shall never forget that.” +

+

+ The languorous heat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern, + the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited + Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude. +

+

+ “Will it disturb her if we talk?” +

+

+ “No.” +

+

+ “But how do you feel?” +

+

+ “I require little sleep. In any case, it’s more important that + you should hear something about your new life. It’s not all as + innocent and idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be + instructed about the dangers.” +

+

+ “Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange—shall I put + questions, or will you tell me what you think is most essential?” +

+

+ Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the same + time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs. +

+

+ “I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from + them what sort of place you have come to.” +

+

+ “I shall be grateful,” said Maskull, preparing himself to + listen. +

+

+ Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in + tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones. +

+

+ PANAWE’S STORY +

+

+ “My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old + (that’s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more + slowly here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in + Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through trees + for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we went along, + until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark red colour and + the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping to think. If left + uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep abstraction. My + mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different stamp. She was + beautiful, generous, and charming—but also active. She kept urging + him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made me miserable. + On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest which bordered on + the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water that will not bear a + man’s weight, and as these light parts don’t differ in + appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed out + a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. + Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the same + day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest, + surrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big + gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a + hundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His body + was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed at + equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of great + watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I + afterward heard this saying of his: ‘To lie is to sleep, to sit is + to dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the infection, and + fell into meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol + scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too + learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a prodigy—that + is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled over this, and + wished to consult the wisest of men. +

+

+ “Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, ‘This perhaps will + not be so difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among + us is a walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the + female who was born in the same body with him—if a female, she has + killed the male. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.’ +

+

+ “‘How shall we end it?’ asked my mother. +

+

+ “‘Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, + and it will be of whichever sex it pleases.’ +

+

+ “‘You want, of course, to be a man, don’t you?’ + said my mother to me earnestly. +

+

+ “‘Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a + crime.’ +

+

+ “Something in my tone attracted Broodviol’s notice. +

+

+ “‘That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore + the male must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you + arrive home, the child will be a boy.’ +

+

+ “My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before + Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking + kindly at her. +

+

+ “I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a + few hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died. +

+

+ “His prophecy came true—before we reached home, I knew the + meaning of shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later + years, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the + conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite + straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in one + body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for life + withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was the stronger + temperament, and she sacrificed herself—though not consciously—for + me. +

+

+ “As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or + destroy anything that contained life—and I have kept it ever since. +

+

+ “While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother’s + death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I + therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother’s country, where, + as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary. +

+

+ “One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is so called + either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous + character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the + mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies + below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet—a terrible + precipice on either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not + much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley + on my right hand was plunged in shadow—that on my left was sparkling + with sunlight and dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for + some miles. Far to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, + connecting the two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most + towering pinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but + I have heard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is + that they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to + travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with + whom they reside. +

+

+ “Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, + clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the + ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like a + different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I saw + someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart again, + for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I went slowly on, + and presently we drew near enough together for me to recognise the walker. + It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I + knew him by his peculiarities of person. He was of a bright gamboge colour + and possessed a very long, proboscis-like nose, which appeared to be a + useful organ, but did not add to his beauty, as I knew beauty. He was + dubbed ‘sorcerer’ from his wondrous skill in budding limbs and + organs. The tale is told that one evening he slowly sawed his leg off with + a blunt stone and then lay for two days in agony while his new leg was + sprouting. He was not reputed to be a consistently wise man, but he had + periodical flashes of penetration and audacity that none could equal. +

+

+ “We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart. +

+

+ “‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. His + manner was as calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible + with hidden terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this + humiliation. We continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many + minutes. +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pleasure?’ he asked suddenly. +

+

+ “I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any + emergency, so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the + conversation, as if it were for that purpose we had met. +

+

+ “‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘for pain drives out pleasure.’ +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pain?’ +

+

+ “I reflected. ‘Love. Because we will accept our loved one’s + share of pain.’ +

+

+ “‘But what is greater than Love?’ he persisted. +

+

+ “‘Nothing, Slofork.’ +

+

+ “‘And what is Nothing?’ +

+

+ “‘That you must tell me.’ +

+

+ “‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a + good child here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But + there’s another world—not Shaping’s—and there all + this is unknown, and another order of things reigns. That world we call + Nothing—but it is not Nothing, but Something.’ +

+

+ “There was a pause. +

+

+ “‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at + growing and ungrowing organs?’ +

+

+ “‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the + same story. I want to hear different stories.’ +

+

+ “‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in + pulses?’ +

+

+ “‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had + it from did not add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’ +

+

+ “‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that + wisdom is misery.’ +

+

+ “‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, + and never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful + face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own + way.’ +

+

+ “Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the + path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum + toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, and + shut my eyes. +

+

+ “Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks + it was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide. + Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to + speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others. +

+

+ “I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for + four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the + possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly + through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the + third extraordinary personage of my experience—the grim Muremaker. + It was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I + saw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was + hanging in an upright position in front of a cliff—a yawning gulf, a + thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could, + and looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to + turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I + could not even grasp what had happened. +

+

+ “‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which + shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am + sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like + this. While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but + when he gets tired—and it can’t be long now—I drop into + those depths.’ +

+

+ “Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this + ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole + existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake of + his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day. +

+

+ “In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a + month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to + part.” +

+

+ Panawe stopped speaking. +

+

+ “That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I + begin to know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and + have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and + wise in their thoughts.” +

+

+ “Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I + see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make + up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of + stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.” +

+

+ “No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a + great deal to unlearn.” +

+

+ They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. + Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Maskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and walked + out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He climbed to + the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. The afterglow of + Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The mountains stood up wild and + grand. +

+

+ They impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which are + widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and adventure + seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment that the + determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest and explore its + dangers. +

+

+ He returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts. +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. “Is this + selfishness, Maskull?” she asked, “or are you drawn by + something stronger than yourself?” +

+

+ “We must be reasonable,” he answered, smiling. “I can’t + settle down in Poolingdred before I have found out something about this + surprising new planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have come.... + But very likely I shall come back here.” +

+

+ “Will you make me a promise?” +

+

+ Maskull hesitated. “Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my + powers yet.” +

+

+ “It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this—never to raise + your hand against a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, + without first recollecting its mother, who suffered for it.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I won’t promise that,” said Maskull slowly, + “but I’ll undertake something more tangible. I will never lift + my hand against a living creature without first recollecting you, Joiwind.” +

+

+ She turned a little pale. “Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, + he might be jealous.” +

+

+ Panawe put his hand on her gently. “You would not talk like that in + Shaping’s presence,” he said. +

+

+ “No. Forgive me! I’m not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull’s + blood in my veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he will + do only honourable deeds, wherever he may be.” +

+

+ “I’ll set Maskull on his way,” said Panawe. +

+

+ “There’s no need,” replied Maskull. “The way is + plain.” +

+

+ “But talking shortens the road.” +

+

+ Maskull turned to go. +

+

+ Joiwind pulled him around toward her softly. “You won’t think + badly of other women on my account?” +

+

+ “You are a blessed spirit,” answered he. +

+

+ She trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there + thinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. Halfway down the + cliff face a little spring was encountered. Its water was colourless, + transparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull had satisfied his thirst he + felt himself different. His surroundings were so real to him in their + vividness and colour, so unreal in their phantom-like mystery, that he + scrambled downhill like one in a winter’s dream. +

+

+ When they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable forest + of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily foreign looking. + The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it was as if he were + gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they got underneath the trees + the light rays of the sun continued to come through—white, savage, + and blazing—but they were gelded of heat. Then it was not hard to + imagine that they were wandering through cool, bright elfin glades. +

+

+ Through the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly + straight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see. +

+

+ Maskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow unable + to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable smile—stern, + yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the silence, but, + strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he was singing or + speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical recitative, exactly like a + bewitching adagio from a low toned stringed instrument—but there was + a difference. Instead of the repetition and variation of one or two short + themes, as in music, Panawe’s theme was prolonged—it never + came to an end, but rather resembled a conversation in rhythm and melody. + And, at the same time, it was no recitative, for it was not declamatory. + It was a long, quiet stream of lovely emotion. +

+

+ Maskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be termed + song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear and + intelligible—not with the intelligibility of words, but in the way + one sympathises with another’s moods and feelings; and Maskull felt + that something important was about to be uttered, which would explain all + that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, he never understood—and + yet somehow he did understand. +

+

+ Late in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe ceased his + recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the fashion of a man who + wishes to convey that he intends to go no farther. +

+

+ “What is the name of this country?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is the Lusion Plain.” +

+

+ “Was that music in the nature of a temptation—do you wish me + not to go on?” +

+

+ “Your work lies before you, and not behind you.” +

+

+ “What was it, then? What work do you allude to?” +

+

+ “It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It seemed like Shaping music to me.” +

+

+ The instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why he + had done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him. +

+

+ Panawe, however, showed no surprise. “Shaping you will find + everywhere.” +

+

+ “Am I dreaming, or awake?” +

+

+ “You are awake.” +

+

+ Maskull fell into deep thought. “So be it,” he said, rousing + himself. “Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?” +

+

+ “You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of + the Marest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the forest and + river meet.” +

+

+ “Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?” +

+

+ “Only this, Maskull—wherever you go, help to make the world + beautiful, and not ugly.” +

+

+ “That’s more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, + and have no ambitions in the way of beautifying life—But tell + Joiwind I will try to keep myself pure.” +

+

+ They parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had stopped, and + watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once. +

+

+ He became aware that something was about to happen. The air was + breathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his frame + in voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced through the + sky overhead. +

+

+ A single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere behind + him. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at first; but + then it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the same time that + it increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, but now it was as if + blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his head. Then it gradually + diminished in force, and travelled away in front of him. It ended very + faintly and distantly. +

+

+ He felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his heart. + Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day did not exist + for him. He was unconscious of himself—he had no thoughts and no + feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude for him. +

+

+ A man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed that + his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was young rather + than old. Maskull observed that his countenance possessed none of the + special organs of Tormance, to which he had not even yet become + reconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person seemed to radiate an + excess of life, like the trembling of air on a hot day. His eyes had such + force that Maskull could not meet them. +

+

+ He addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a double + tone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an undertone, like + a sympathetic tanging string. +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence of + this individual. He believed that something good was happening to him. He + found it physically difficult to bring any words out. “Why do you + stop me?” +

+

+ “Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?” +

+

+ “I think you are Shaping.” +

+

+ “I am Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were being + stabbed. +

+

+ “You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you + here? I wish you to serve me.” +

+

+ Maskull could no longer speak. +

+

+ “Those who joke at my world,” continued the vision, “those + who make a mock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, + which are not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots—they + shall not escape.” +

+

+ “I do not mock it.” +

+

+ “Ask me your questions, and I will answer them.” +

+

+ “I have nothing.” +

+

+ “It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not + understand? You are my servant and helper.” +

+

+ “I shall not fail.” +

+

+ “This is for my sake, and not for yours.” +

+

+ These last words had no sooner left Surtur’s mouth than Maskull saw + him spring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of the + sky, he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur’s form—not + as a concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and + frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out. +

+

+ Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the + solitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the far + distance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with regularly + increasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and then grew more + and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away in the rear, until + the note was merged in the deathlike silence of the forest. It appeared to + Maskull like the closing of a marvellous and important chapter. +

+

+ Simultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed to + open up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of immeasurable + height. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his limbs, and looked + around him with a slow smile. +

+

+ After a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and confused, + but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the rest—huge, + shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul of a creative + artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of destiny. +

+

+ The more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in this + new world—and even before leaving Earth—the clearer and more + indisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own purposes, + but must be here for an end. But what that end was, he could not imagine. +

+

+ Through the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. It + looked a stupendous ball of red fire—now he could realise at his + ease what a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left and + began to descend steeply. +

+

+ A wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of him, + no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest path led him + straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and regarded the lapping, + gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite bank, the forest continued. + Miles to the south, Poolingdred could just be distinguished. On the + northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains loomed up—high, wild, + beautiful, and dangerous. They were not a dozen miles away. +

+

+ Like the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths of + cool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In spite of + his bodily fatigue, he wished to test his strength against something. This + craving he identified with the crags of the Marest. They seemed to have + the same magical attraction for his will as the lodestone for iron. He + kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that direction—wondering + if it would not be possible to conquer the heights that evening. But when + he glanced back again at Poolingdred, he remembered Joiwind and Panawe, + and grew more tranquil. He decided to make his bed at this spot, and to + set off as soon after daybreak as he should awake. +

+

+ He drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to sleep. + By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared nothing for + the possible dangers of the night—he confided in his star. +

+

+ Branchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came on, + and through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, he was + awakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, and wondered + where he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow was a terrestrial + phenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got up and went toward the + source of the light. +

+

+ Away from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled across the + form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the crimson rays was + lying on the ground, several yards away from her. It was like a small + jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He barely threw a glance at that, + however. +

+

+ The woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big, smooth, + shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a thin tentacle, + but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, which was upturned, was + wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. But he saw with surprise that in + place of a breve on her forehead, she possessed another eye. All three + were closed. The colour of her skin in the crimson glow he could not + distinguish. +

+

+ He touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up at him + without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but the two lower + ones were dull and vacant—mere carriers of vision. The middle, upper + one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, unflinching glare had + yet something seductive and alluring in it. Maskull felt a challenge in + that look of lordly, feminine will, and his manner instinctively + stiffened. +

+

+ She sat up. +

+

+ “Can you speak my language?” he asked. “I wouldn’t + put such a question, but others have been able to.” +

+

+ “Why should you imagine that I can’t read your mind? Is it so + extremely complex?” +

+

+ She spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to + listen to. +

+

+ “No, but you have no breve.” +

+

+ “Well, but haven’t I a sorb, which is better?” And she + pointed to the eye on her brow. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Oceaxe.” +

+

+ “And where do you come from?” +

+

+ “Ifdawn.” +

+

+ These contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere sound + of her voice was fascinating. +

+

+ “I am going there tomorrow,” he remarked. +

+

+ She laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull,” he went on. “I am a stranger—from + another world.” +

+

+ “So I should judge, from your absurd appearance.” +

+

+ “Perhaps it would be as well to say at once,” said Maskull + bluntly, “are we, or are we not, to be friends?” +

+

+ She yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. “Why should we be + friends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a lover.” +

+

+ “You must look elsewhere for that.” +

+

+ “So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace.” +

+

+ She dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her + eyes. +

+

+ “What are you doing here?” he interrogated. +

+

+ “Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there + often enough it is a night for us which has no next morning.” +

+

+ “Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, + it would be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to expect + in the way of dangers.” +

+

+ “I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you,” + retorted Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Are you returning in the morning?” persisted Maskull. +

+

+ “If I wish.” +

+

+ “Then we will go together.” +

+

+ She got up again on her elbow. “Instead of making plans for other + people, I would do a very necessary thing.” +

+

+ “Pray, tell me.” +

+

+ “Well, there’s no reason why I should, but I will. I would try + to convert my women’s organs into men’s organs. It is a man’s + country.” +

+

+ “Speak more plainly.” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn + without a sorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too is + worse than useless.” +

+

+ “You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do + you advise me to do?” +

+

+ She negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the ground. +

+

+ “There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a + good while, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will do + the rest during the night. I promise nothing.” +

+

+ Oceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull. +

+

+ He considered for a few minutes, and then walked over to where the stone + was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the size of a hen’s + egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, and throwing out a + continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks. +

+

+ Finally deciding that Oceaxe’s advice was good, he applied the drude + first to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a cauterising + sensation—a feeling of healing pain. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already + above the horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs + had changed during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelike + sorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springing from + the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physical security, + but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before he could grasp its + function. +

+

+ As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of his + three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his + understanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lower eyes + he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; with the + sorb he saw nothing as self-existent—everything appeared as an + object of importance or non-importance to his own needs. +

+

+ Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked about + him. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if she + were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up his mind + to bathe in the river. +

+

+ It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, but + its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through the trees. + A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked like animals, and + were always changing shape. The ground, as well as the leaves and branches + of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dew or rain during the + night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered his nostrils. His pain + was quiescent, and his spirits were high. +

+

+ Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In the + morning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they were + from five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellated + line seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him were + composed of gaudy rocks—vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and + black. As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy + drum, and he thrilled all over—indescribable hopes, aspirations, and + emotions came over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which + he felt—it was something different.... +

+

+ He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolled + indolently up. +

+

+ He could now perceive the colour of her skin—it was a vivid, yet + delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlingly + unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuine representative + of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curious about it. The + curves were womanly, the bones were characteristically female—yet + all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlying will. The + commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainer language. + Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex and + softness. +

+

+ She came to the river’s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. + “Now you are built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, + lingering voice. +

+

+ “You see, the experiment was successful,” he answered, smiling + gaily. +

+

+ Oceaxe continued looking him over. “Did some woman give you that + ridiculous robe?” +

+

+ “A woman did give it to me”—dropping his smile—“but + I saw nothing ridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don’t now.” +

+

+ “I think I’d look better in it.” +

+

+ As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suited + her form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed, + rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was in + fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress. Oceaxe + in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him. +

+

+ “I don’t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,” + she remarked slowly. +

+

+ “Why not? What can I be to you?” +

+

+ “I have been thinking about you during the night.” Her voice + was retarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallen + tree, and looked away. +

+

+ “In what way?” +

+

+ She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces of + the bark. +

+

+ “Last night you were so contemptuous.” +

+

+ “Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with + your head over your shoulder?” +

+

+ It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent. +

+

+ “Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can’t + go on resisting me forever.” +

+

+ “But this is preposterous,” said Maskull, opening his eyes + wide. “Granted that you are a beautiful woman—we can’t + be quite so primeval.” +

+

+ Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can + wait.” +

+

+ “From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my + society. I have no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only + on condition that you drop this language.” +

+

+ “Yet you do think me beautiful?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see + what that has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will + find plenty of men to admire—and love you.” +

+

+ At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you + imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not + Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?” +

+

+ “Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the + temptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely + woman is concerned. I am not my own master.” +

+

+ “I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you + humiliate me so?” +

+

+ Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my own + master.” +

+

+ “Then who is your master?” +

+

+ “Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.” +

+

+ “Did you speak with him?” she asked curiously. +

+

+ “I did.” +

+

+ “Tell me what he said.” +

+

+ “No, I can’t—I won’t. But whatever he said, his + beauty was more tormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that’s why I can + look at you in cold blood.” +

+

+ “Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have + thought it effeminate.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. You won’t always be so boyish. But + don’t try my patience too far.” +

+

+ “Let us talk about something else—and, above all, let us get + on our road.” +

+

+ She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he + grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. “Oh, + Maskull, Maskull—what a fool you are!” +

+

+ “In what way am I a fool?” he demanded, scowling—not at + her words, but at his own weakness. +

+

+ “Isn’t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of + lovers? And yet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away + from nature, but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?” +

+

+ “Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: + persistence.” +

+

+ “Read me well, and then it is natural law that you’ll think + twice and three times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, + we had better eat.” +

+

+ “Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “Don’t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?” +

+

+ “What food is it?” +

+

+ “Fish from the river.” +

+

+ Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felt + hungry. +

+

+ “Is there nothing milder?” +

+

+ She pulled her mouth scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’t + you? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be looked + at, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have to + change your notions.” +

+

+ “Go catch your fish,” he returned, pulling down his brows. +

+

+ The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, from + the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, and peered + into the depths. Presently her look became tense and concentrated; she + dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of little monster. It was more + like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly plates and teeth. She threw it + on the ground, and it started crawling about. Suddenly she darted all her + will into her sorb. The creature leaped into the air, and fell down dead. +

+

+ She picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales and + entrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stained with + the light scarlet blood. +

+

+ “Find the drude, Maskull,” she said, with a lazy smile. + “You had it last night.” +

+

+ He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dull and + feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it in the + interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground. +

+

+ “While it’s cooking, I’ll wash some of this blood away, + which frightens you so much. Have you never seen blood before?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back—the + contrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful, + masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with the fascinating + and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea flashed into his + mind. +

+

+ “In your country I’m told there is an act of will called + ‘absorbing.’ What is that?” +

+

+ She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a + delicious, clashing laugh. “You think I am half a man?” +

+

+ “Answer my question.” +

+

+ “I’m a woman through and through, Maskull—to the + marrowbone. But that’s not to say I have never absorbed males.” +

+

+ “And that means...” +

+

+ “New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a + stormier heart...” +

+

+ “For you, yes—But for them?...” +

+

+ “I don’t know. The victims don’t describe their + experiences. Probably unhappiness of some sort—if they still know + anything.” +

+

+ “This is a fearful business!” he exclaimed, regarding her + gloomily. “One would think Ifdawn a land of devils.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river. “Better + men than you—better in every sense of the word—are walking + about with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like, + Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simple + natures were made to be absorbed.” +

+

+ “And human rights count for nothing!” +

+

+ She had bent over the river’s edge, to wash her arms and hands, but + glanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. “They do count. + But we only regard a man as human for just as long as he’s able to + hold his own with others.” +

+

+ The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast + heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. Whether it + was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long abstention, he + did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even cannibalistic. He ate + little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled. +

+

+ “Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,” + said Oceaxe. “On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull + with me, to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.” +

+

+ They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a + sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had the + contrary effect—it caused them to exert themselves, and they moved + faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The exercise + gradually improved the circulation of Maskull’s blood, and he began + to look at things in a far more cheerful way. The hot sunshine, the + diminished wind, the marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet, crystal forests—all + was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer and nearer to the + gaily painted heights of Ifdawn. +

+

+ There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was + attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the + same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost, + painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings + produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull’s + impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices. +

+

+ He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have most extraordinary + shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular—no slopes or + curves.” +

+

+ She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. “That’s + typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and + gradual.” +

+

+ “I hear you, but I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “All over the Marest you’ll find patches of ground plunging + down or rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice + before acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.” +

+

+ Maskull was impressed. “A fresh, wild, primitive land.” +

+

+ “How is it where you come from?” asked Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years to + move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks. Originality + is a lost habit.” +

+

+ “Are there women there?” +

+

+ “As with you, and not very differently formed.” +

+

+ “Do they love?” +

+

+ He laughed. “So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and + thoughts of the whole sex.” +

+

+ “Probably they are more beautiful than I?” +

+

+ “No, I think not,” said Maskull. +

+

+ There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily + onward. +

+

+ “What is your business in Ifdawn?” demanded Oceaxe suddenly. +

+

+ He hesitated over his answer. “Can you grasp that it’s + possible to have an aim right in front of one, so big that one can’t + see it as a whole?” +

+

+ She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, “What sort of aim?” +

+

+ “A moral aim.” +

+

+ “Are you proposing to set the world right?” +

+

+ “I propose nothing—I am waiting.” +

+

+ “Don’t wait too long, for time doesn’t wait—especially + in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Something will happen,” said Maskull. +

+

+ Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. “So you have no special destination in + the Marest?” +

+

+ “No, and if you’ll permit me, I will come home with you.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. + “That’s what I have been offering all the time. Of course you + will come home with me. As for Crimtyphon...” +

+

+ “You mentioned that name before. Who is he?” +

+

+ “Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.” +

+

+ “This doesn’t improve matters,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove + him.” +

+

+ “We are certainly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, + quite startled. “Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a + compact with you?” +

+

+ “You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to + come home with me.” +

+

+ “Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?” +

+

+ “Either you or I must kill him.” +

+

+ He eyed her for a full minute. “Now we are passing from folly to + insanity.” +

+

+ “Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the too-sad truth. + And when you have seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.” +

+

+ “I’m aware I am on a strange planet,” said Maskull + slowly, “where all sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where + the very laws of morality may be different. Still as far as I am + concerned, murder is murder, and I’ll have no more to do with a + woman who wants to make use of me, to get rid of her husband.” +

+

+ “You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily. +

+

+ “Or mad.” +

+

+ “Then you had better leave me, Maskull—only—” +

+

+ “Only what?” +

+

+ “You wish to be consistent, don’t you? Leave all other mad and + wicked people as well. Then you’ll find it easier to reform the + rest.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Well?” demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile. +

+

+ “I’ll come with you, and I’ll see Crimtyphon—if + only to warn him.” +

+

+ Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether at the + image conjured up by Maskull’s last words, or from some other cause, + he did not know. The conversation dropped. +

+

+ At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the river + made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer of use to + them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully. +

+

+ “It’s a stiff climb for a hot morning.” +

+

+ “Let’s rest here a little,” said she, indicating a + smooth flat island of black rock, standing up just out of the water in the + middle of the river. +

+

+ They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however, + standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite, + and uttered a piercing and peculiar call. +

+

+ “What is that for?” She did not answer. After waiting a + minute, she repeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself + from the top of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. + It was followed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly + slow and clumsy. +

+

+ “What are they?” he asked. +

+

+ She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat down + beside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapes and + colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures with + long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminating in fins + which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legs and fins + were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhat ominous + fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thin spike + projecting from each of the heads. +

+

+ “They are shrowks,” explained Oceaxe at last. “If you + want to know their intention, I’ll tell you. To make a meal of us. + First of all their spikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are + really suckers, will drain us dry of blood—pretty thoroughly too; + there are no half measures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don’t + eat flesh.” +

+

+ “As you show such admirable sangfroid,” said Maskull dryly, + “I take it there’s no particular danger.” +

+

+ Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. A + new form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground. +

+

+ “Are you trying to get up?” asked Oceaxe smoothly. +

+

+ “Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to + the rock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in view + in waking them up?” +

+

+ “I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking + and asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with your + will.” +

+

+ “I seem to have no will, unfortunately.” +

+

+ Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich and + beautiful. “It’s obvious you aren’t a very heroic + protector, Maskull. It seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I + expected better things of your big body. Why, my husband would send those + creatures dancing all around the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing + of them. Now watch me. Two of the three I’ll kill; the third we will + ride home on. Which one shall we keep?” +

+

+ The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their + bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of + loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted + with their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift + motion. +

+

+ “Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are + equally objectionable to me.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most + energetic animal. Watch now.” +

+

+ She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt + something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The two + monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the earth, + one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and then lie + motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied that its + flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but tame and + unwilling. +

+

+ Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their island + rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure. They + immediately crossed the water. +

+

+ Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet + long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; a mane + of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome and unnatural, + with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood-sucking cavity. + There were true fins on its back and tail. +

+

+ “Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s + flank. “As I have to steer, let me jump on first.” +

+

+ She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’s + back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the fin + there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his outer + hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and for + additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it. +

+

+ Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this + ride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires. +

+

+ The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had + been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which was + communicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling, + passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but + Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his + feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The + ride will last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like + a flute, but rather malicious. +

+

+ Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm. +

+

+ The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose + slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward the + painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the + contact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, + was merely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, + holding on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the + knowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was + responding to his touch like a lovely harp. +

+

+ They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around + him. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer + rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of + islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands + were mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a + high tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless + cracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like lakes, + in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The + perpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts + of the innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; + but the level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees + alone were distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of + different shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying + but did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage. +

+

+ As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his + passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay and + bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across the + sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no + aesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for + action and possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted + to deal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky; + attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to + play a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the + scenery had no significance for him. +

+

+ So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe + turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what + she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord. +

+

+ “Cold again so quickly, Maskull?” +

+

+ “What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the + side. “It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.” +

+

+ “You wish to take a hand?” +

+

+ “I wish to get down.” +

+

+ “Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?” +

+

+ “Different from what? What are you talking about?” said + Maskull, still lost in abstraction. +

+

+ Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make + a man of you, for the material is excellent.” +

+

+ After that, she turned her back once more. +

+

+ The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were not + on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken + terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying + well above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs + confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to + enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel. + They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above + thirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many + hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted to + plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity. +

+

+ “What is at the bottom?” he asked. +

+

+ “Death for you, if you go to look for it.” +

+

+ “We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?” +

+

+ “Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of + course all things are possible.” +

+

+ “I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully. +

+

+ Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and + see?” +

+

+ “You find that amusing?” +

+

+ “No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the + beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.” +

+

+ Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance + which is not a novelty for me.” +

+

+ “Yes, but I am a novelty for you.” +

+

+ The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain, and + all the time they were gradually rising. +

+

+ “At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said + Maskull, who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last + ready for conversation. +

+

+ “What’s the matter with my voice?” +

+

+ “It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why + I mentioned it.” +

+

+ “Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.” +

+

+ “Inappropriate?” +

+

+ “I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but + whether you are speaking or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest + and strangest instrument I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is + inappropriate.” +

+

+ “You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?” +

+

+ He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken off + by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the gulf + directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder. +

+

+ “The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Shall we escape?” +

+

+ She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such a + steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor + of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be heard, + and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip in the + wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. A + hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each second—splitting, + hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. When they had + still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, a sort of dark, indefinite + sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under their feet, ascending rapidly, + with irresistible might, accompanied by the most horrible noises. The + canal was filled up for two hundred yards, before and behind them. + Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be raised. The shrowk in its + ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. Beast and riders experienced in + that moment all the horrors of an earthquake—they were rolled + violently over, and thrown among the rocks and dirt. All was thunder, + instability, motion, confusion. +

+

+ Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the sunlight. + The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the valley floor + had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher than the old. + Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as if by magic; + not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up and examined + themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its side, panting + violently, and sweating with fright. +

+

+ “That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off + his person. +

+

+ Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe. +

+

+ “It might have been far worse.... I mean, it’s bad enough to + come up, but it’s death to go down, and that happens just as often.” +

+

+ “Whatever induces you to live in such a country?” +

+

+ “I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought + of moving out of it.” +

+

+ “A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a + place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to + another.” +

+

+ “You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling. +

+

+ She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet. +

+

+ “Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her + perch. “We haven’t too much time to waste.” +

+

+ He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the + mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his + thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into + his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit there + in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be doing + something. +

+

+ “How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without + turning her head. +

+

+ “What secrets—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I + think it wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still + enough?” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve + far too many problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some + of them.” +

+

+ He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way toward a + distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural + quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a + broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered. +

+

+ “What mountain is that?” he asked. +

+

+ “Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Are we going there?” +

+

+ “Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might + be worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land + as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. + You can also see Alppain from it.” +

+

+ “That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.” +

+

+ “Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his + wrist. “Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn + together.” +

+

+ He grunted unintelligibly. +

+

+ There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet. + While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not + far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful + roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one + minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with the + shock. “This is frightful.” +

+

+ Oceaxe remained unmoved. +

+

+ “Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, + when he had somewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of + steel.... Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?” +

+

+ “Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” + replied Oceaxe, with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but + that doesn’t prevent our often getting caught.” +

+

+ “You had better teach me the signs.” +

+

+ “We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I + expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first + let us get home.” +

+

+ “How far is it now?” +

+

+ “It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her + forefinger. “You can see it.” +

+

+ He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made + out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two miles + distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the bottom of + which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it to the + mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in the + brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle of the + peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with sea-green + leaves. +

+

+ “I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can + I see two figures, or am I mistaken?” +

+

+ “I also see something,” said Maskull. +

+

+ In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of + about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on the + mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both descended—Maskull + with aching thighs. +

+

+ “What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without + waiting for a suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. + “Fly away home! I may want you some other time.” +

+

+ It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after half + running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air, and + paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They watched + it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of land, + followed by Maskull. +

+

+ Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The + sky had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. + The ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses. + Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—and + occasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked + extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird + Ifdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen + from a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but + only desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. He + longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed + of the least importance to him. +

+

+ On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a large + copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of small + trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps the + roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller + fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling + fountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides, overhung + with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with an air of + wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god might have + dwelt here. +

+

+ Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who + formed the centre of the picture. +

+

+ One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a tall + couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and was + eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums lay on + the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree completely + sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad in a rough + skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from his face + whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were smooth, + soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil; but his + violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the colour of + yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it was violet. + The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet away from + him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, and rather + commonplace, but there was something terrible about his appearance. The + features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, despair, and + horror. +

+

+ Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost + shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch. +

+

+ “We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking + toward the youth. +

+

+ He eyed her, but said nothing. +

+

+ “How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial + but extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the + ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down the + skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with crossed + arms. +

+

+ There was silence for a minute. +

+

+ “Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” said the + boy on the couch, in a calm, treble voice. +

+

+ The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a strangled + tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already buds on + my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.” +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that + although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by + the boy. +

+

+ “What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow + roots will reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well + established. Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, + and his fingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head + into a crown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that + within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from + this new and remarkable tree.” +

+

+ “I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out + his hand for another plum. “They thrill me.” +

+

+ “This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward. +

+

+ The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as if + he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat. +

+

+ “The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again + after Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I + expect, so you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your + roots. Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear + to you now, in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. + Now you may go.” +

+

+ The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe + yawned. +

+

+ Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you + joking, or are you a devil?” +

+

+ “I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will + devise a new punishment for you.” +

+

+ The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched her + beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the struggle + between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; he reached out + his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self-control + broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—his beard + wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he had to + deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a + terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered + together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight continued + his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get + away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, + recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, to + get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. Grasping + his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, so that the neck + was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died. +

+

+ The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull viewed + it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder came into + his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s face had + undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal character + had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask which + expressed nothing. +

+

+ He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen the + brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face of the + apparition at the siance, after Krag had dealt with it. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Oceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating the + plums. +

+

+ “You see, you had to kill him, Maskull,” she said, in a rather + quizzical voice. +

+

+ He came away from the corpse and regarded her—still red, and still + breathing hard. “It’s no joking matter. You especially ought + to keep quiet.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Because he was your husband.” +

+

+ “You think I ought to show grief—when I feel none?” +

+

+ “Don’t pretend, woman!” +

+

+ Oceaxe smiled. “From your manner one would think you were accusing + me of some crime.” +

+

+ Maskull literally snorted at her words. “What, you live with filth—you + live in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then—” +

+

+ “Oh, now I grasp it,” she said, in a tone of perfect + detachment. +

+

+ “I’m glad.” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull,” she proceeded, after a pause, “and who + gave you the right to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?” +

+

+ He looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another long + interval of silence. +

+

+ “I never loved him,” said Oceaxe at last, looking at the + ground. +

+

+ “That makes it all the worse.” +

+

+ “What does all this mean—what do you want?” +

+

+ “Nothing from you—absolutely nothing—thank heaven!” +

+

+ She gave a hard laugh. “You come here with your foreign + preconceptions and expect us all to bow down to them.” +

+

+ “What preconceptions?” +

+

+ “Just because Crimtyphon’s sports are strange to you, you + murder him—and you would like to murder me.” +

+

+ “Sports! That diabolical cruelty.” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re sentimental!” said Oceaxe contemptuously. + “Why do you need to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, + all the world over, and one form is as good as another. He was only to be + made a tree, like a million other trees. If they can endure the life, why + can’t he?” +

+

+ “And this is Ifdawn morality!” +

+

+ Oceaxe began to grow angry. “It’s you who have peculiar ideas. + You rave about the beauty of flowers and trees—you think them + divine. But when it’s a question of taking on this divine, fresh, + pure, enchanting loveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately + becomes a cruel and wicked degradation. Here we have a strange riddle, in + my opinion.” +

+

+ “Oceaxe, you’re a beautiful, heartless wild beast—nothing + more. If you weren’t a woman—” +

+

+ “Well”—curling her lip—“let us hear what + would happen if I weren’t a woman?” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nails. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. I can’t touch you—though there’s + certainly not the difference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. + For this you may thank my ‘foreign preconceptions.’... + Farewell!” +

+

+ He turned to go. Oceaxe’s eyes slanted at him through their long + lashes. +

+

+ “Where are you off to, Maskull?” +

+

+ “That’s a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must + be a change for the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!” +

+

+ “Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just + starting, and you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can quickly + put that body out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so much, the + place is big enough—we needn’t talk, or even see each other.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to breathe the same air.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” She was sitting erect and motionless, like a + beautiful statue. “And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, + and all the undone things which you set out to do?” +

+

+ “You aren’t the one I shall speak to about that. But”—he + eyed her meditatively—“while I’m still here you can tell + me this. What’s the meaning of the expression on that corpse’s + face?” +

+

+ “Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. + Ought they not to?” +

+

+ “I once heard it called ‘Crystalman’s face.’” +

+

+ “Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is + doubtless the family resemblance.” +

+

+ “It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the + same.” +

+

+ “You have wise and truthful acquaintances.” +

+

+ “Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?” said Maskull, + more to himself than to her. “That apparition was something quite + different.” +

+

+ She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, + gently pulled his arm. +

+

+ “You see—we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your + questions. I’m not excessively smart, but I’ll try to be of + assistance.” +

+

+ Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She bent + toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, cool, + feminine breath should fan his cheek. +

+

+ “Aren’t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then + what does it matter who sent you?” +

+

+ “What can you possibly know of good and evil?” +

+

+ “Are you only instructing the initiated?” +

+

+ “Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you’re quite right. I + wish to do what I can—not because I am qualified, but because I am + here.” +

+

+ Oceaxe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a giant, + both in body and soul. What you want to do, you can do.” +

+

+ “Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own + ends?” +

+

+ She sighed. “Don’t you see how difficult you are making the + conversation? Let’s talk about your work, not about ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern sky. + It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. While he was + observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a disquieting nature, + passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it struck him for the first + time that he was being unnecessarily brutal to her. He had forgotten that + she was a woman, and defenceless. +

+

+ “Won’t you stay?” she asked all of a sudden, quite + openly and frankly. +

+

+ “Yes, I think I’ll stay,” he replied slowly. “And + another thing, Oceaxe—if I’ve misjudged your character, pray + forgive me. I’m a hasty, passionate man.” +

+

+ “There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for + vicious hearts. And you didn’t misjudge my character, as far as you + went—only, every woman has more than one character. Don’t you + know that?” +

+

+ During the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and both + looked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly across the neck + that separated them from the mainland. +

+

+ “Tydomin,” muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She + immediately moved away from Maskull and stood up. +

+

+ The newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was no + longer quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who knows her + way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its quiescence there + just was a glimpse of something strange and dangerous. It was curiously + alluring, though not exactly beautiful. Her hair was clustering and + boyish, reaching only to the neck. It was of a strange indigo colour. She + was quaintly attired in a tunic and breeches, pieced together from the + square, blue-green plates of some reptile. Her small, ivory-white breasts + were exposed. Her sorb was black and sad—rather contemplative. +

+

+ Without once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided + straight toward Crimtyphon’s corpse. When she arrived within a few + feet of it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded. +

+

+ Oceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, “It’s + Crimtyphon’s other wife, who lives under Disscourn. She’s a + most dangerous woman. Be careful what you say. If she asks you to do + anything, refuse it outright.” +

+

+ “The poor soul looks harmless enough.” +

+

+ “Yes, she does—but the poor soul is quite capable of + swallowing up Krag himself.... Now, play the man.” +

+

+ The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin’s notice, for + she now slowly turned her eyes toward them. +

+

+ “Who killed him?” she demanded. +

+

+ Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able to + catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and curiously + enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter. +

+

+ Oceaxe whispered, “Don’t say a word, leave it all to me.” + Then she swung her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, + “I killed him.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s words by this time were ringing in Maskull’s head + like an actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to + ignore them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the + consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting + her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, “It + was I that killed Crimtyphon.” +

+

+ Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. “Maskull says that so as + to shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him, + Tydomin.” +

+

+ “I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own + strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose.” +

+

+ Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. “It’s of little + consequence who killed him, for he’s better dead than alive, in my + opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.” +

+

+ Tydomin appeared not to hear him—she looked beyond him at Oceaxe + musingly. “When you murdered him, didn’t it occur to you that + I would come here, to find out?” +

+

+ “I never once thought of you,” replied Oceaxe, with an angry + laugh. “Do you really imagine that I carry your image with me + wherever I go?” +

+

+ “If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?” +

+

+ “Lying hypocrite!” Oceaxe spat out. “You never were in + love with Crimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an + excellent opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon’s + gone.... For we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had + asked him. He worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly.” +

+

+ Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. “Is it necessary + for you to listen to all this?” +

+

+ Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away out + of earshot. +

+

+ Tydomin approached Oceaxe. “Perhaps because my beauty fades and I’m + no longer young, I needed him all the more.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl. “Well, he’s dead, and that’s + the end of it. What are you going to do now, Tydomin?” +

+

+ The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. “There’s + nothing left to do, except mourn the dead. You won’t grudge me that + last office?” +

+

+ “Do you want to stay here?” demanded Oceaxe suspiciously. +

+

+ “Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.” +

+

+ “Then what is to become of us?” +

+

+ “I thought that you and your lover—what is his name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend + Blodsombre at my home.” +

+

+ Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, “Will you come with me now to + Disscourn?” +

+

+ “If you wish,” returned Maskull. +

+

+ “Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon’s + death. I won’t keep him.” +

+

+ “Why don’t you question me, rather?” demanded Oceaxe, + looking up sharply. +

+

+ Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. “We know each other too well.” +

+

+ “Play no tricks!” said Oceaxe, and she turned to go. +

+

+ “Surely you must be dreaming,” said Tydomin. “That’s + the way—unless you want to walk over the cliffside.” +

+

+ The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction which + Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty + space. +

+

+ “Shaping! I must be mad,” cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she + obediently followed the other’s finger. +

+

+ She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces away. + Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing. Tydomin + remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her. Without + hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled on—and + when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took one more + step. +

+

+ Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body + disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded. +

+

+ Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself out + of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the + ground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished. +

+

+ He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to + sob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet. +

+

+ The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some time + before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words with + difficulty. “You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want to + hear why you did it.” +

+

+ “Hadn’t I cause?” she asked, standing with downcast + eyes. +

+

+ “Was it pure fiendishness?” +

+

+ “It was for Crimtyphon’s sake.” +

+

+ “She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so.” +

+

+ “You are loyal to her, and I’m loyal to him.” +

+

+ “Loyal? You’ve made a terrible blunder. She wasn’t my + mistress. I killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely + no part in it.” +

+

+ “Wasn’t she your lover?” asked Tydomin slowly. +

+

+ “You’ve made a terrible mistake,” repeated Maskull. + “I killed him because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of + his death as you are.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s face took on a hard look. “So you are guilty of two + deaths.” +

+

+ There was a dreadful silence. +

+

+ “Why couldn’t you believe me?” asked Maskull, who was + pale and sweating painfully. +

+

+ “Who gave you the right to kill him?” demanded Tydomin + sternly. +

+

+ He said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question. +

+

+ She sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. “Since + you murdered him, you must help me bury him.” +

+

+ “What’s to be done? This is a most fearful crime.” +

+

+ “You are a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? + What are we to you?” +

+

+ “Unfortunately you are right.” +

+

+ Another pause ensued. +

+

+ “It’s no use standing here,” said Tydomin. “Nothing + can be done. You must come with me.” +

+

+ “Come with you? Where to?” +

+

+ “To Disscourn. There’s a burning lake on the far side of it. + He always wished to be cast there after death. We can do that after + Blodsombre—in the meantime we must take him home.” +

+

+ “You’re a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried + when that poor girl must remain unburied?” +

+

+ “You know that’s out of the question,” replied Tydomin + quietly. +

+

+ Maskull’s eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing. +

+

+ “We must do something,” she continued. “I shall go. You + can’t wish to stay here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I couldn’t stay here—and why should I want to? You + want me to carry the corpse?” +

+

+ “He can’t carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will + ease your mind to carry it.” +

+

+ “Ease my mind?” said Maskull, rather stupidly. +

+

+ “There’s only one relief for remorse, and that’s + voluntary pain.” +

+

+ “And have you no remorse?” he asked, fixing her with a heavy + eye. +

+

+ “These crimes are yours, Maskull,” she said in a low but + incisive voice. +

+

+ They walked over to Crimtyphon’s body, and Maskull hoisted it on to + his shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not + offer to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. +

+

+ She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through + sunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the heat + was insufferable—streams of sweat coursed down his face, and the + corpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked in front + of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her white, womanish + calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His features grew sullen. At + the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed his burden to slip off his + shoulders on to the ground, where it lay sprawled every which way. He + called out to Tydomin. +

+

+ She quickly looked around. +

+

+ “Come here. It has just occurred to me”—he laughed—“why + should I be carrying this corpse—and why should I be following you + at all? What surprises me is, why this has never struck me before.” +

+

+ She at once came back to him. “I suppose you’re tired, + Maskull. Let us sit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you + know of any reason why I should be acting as your porter?” He + laughed again, but nevertheless sat down on the ground beside her. +

+

+ Tydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, so as + to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still glowing. + Maskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a moment or two + in silence. +

+

+ “Why don’t you speak?” he asked at last. +

+

+ “What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I’m not speaking of that light.” +

+

+ “Doesn’t it suggest anything at all?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it doesn’t. What does it matter?” +

+

+ “Not sacrifice?” +

+

+ Maskull grew sullen again. “Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?” +

+

+ “Hasn’t it entered your head yet,” said Tydomin, looking + straight in front of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, + “that this adventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you + have made some sort of sacrifice?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes’ + time Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost + angrily, threw Crimtyphon’s corpse over his shoulder again. +

+

+ “How far do we have to go?” he asked in a surly tone. +

+

+ “An hour’s walk.” +

+

+ “Lead on.” +

+

+ “Still, this isn’t the sacrifice I mean,” said Tydomin + quietly, as she went on in front. +

+

+ Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to pass + from peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they were able + to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make use of rude + bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented path. Underneath + were the black, impenetrable abysses—on the surface were the glaring + sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the chaotic tangle of strange plants. + There were countless reptiles and insects. The latter were thicker built + than those of Earth—consequently still more disgusting, and some of + them were of enormous size. One monstrous insect, as large as a horse, + stood right in the centre of their path without budging. It was + armour-plated, had jaws like scimitars, and underneath its body was a + forest of legs. Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it + crashing into the gulf. +

+

+ “What have I to offer, except my life?” Maskull suddenly broke + out. “And what good is that? It won’t bring that poor girl + back into the world.” +

+

+ “Sacrifice is not for utility. It’s a penalty which we pay.” +

+

+ “I know that.” +

+

+ “The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has + happened.” +

+

+ She waited for Maskull to come even with her. +

+

+ “Perhaps you imagine I’m not man enough—you imagine that + because I allowed poor Oceaxe to die for me—” +

+

+ “She did die for you,” said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic + voice. +

+

+ “That would be a second blunder of yours,” returned Maskull, + just as firmly. “I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I’m not in + love with life.” +

+

+ “Your life is not required.” +

+

+ “Then I don’t understand what you want, or what you are + speaking about.” +

+

+ “It’s not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That + would be compliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until + you feel there’s nothing else for you to do.” +

+

+ “It’s all very mysterious.” +

+

+ The conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful + crashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was + accompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they stood. + They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final disappearance + of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in front of them. + Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with all its teeming + animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic story. The new chasm + was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther edge the Alppain glow burned + blue just over the horizon. +

+

+ “Now we shall have to make a detour,” said Tydomin, halting. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of her with his third hand. “Listen to me, while + I try to describe what I’m feeling. When I saw that landslip, + everything I have heard about the last destruction of the world came into + my mind. It seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, and that the + world were really falling to pieces. Then, where the land was, we now have + this empty, awful gulf—that’s to say, nothing—and + it seems to me as if our life will come to the same condition, where there + was something there will be nothing. But that terrible blue glare on the + opposite side is exactly like the eye of fate. It accuses us, and demands + what we have made of our life, which is no more. At the same time, it is + grand and joyful. The joy consists in this—that it is in our power + to give freely what will later on be taken from us by force.” +

+

+ Tydomin watched him attentively. “Then your feeling is that your + life is worthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who asks?” +

+

+ “No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living + for is to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us. + Understand me. It isn’t cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but + heroism.... It’s hard to explain.” +

+

+ “Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It’s + a heavy one, but that’s what you seem to wish.” +

+

+ “That is so. In my present mood it can’t be too heavy.” +

+

+ “Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that + Crimtyphon’s dead, I’m tired of being a woman.” +

+

+ “I fail to comprehend.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish + to be a male. I see it isn’t worth while being a woman. I mean to + dedicate my own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine + together, and give them a common funeral in the burning lake. That’s + the sacrifice I offer you. As I said, it’s a hard one.” +

+

+ “So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is + difficult to understand.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t ask you to die. You will go on living.” +

+

+ “How is it possible without a body?” +

+

+ Tydomin gazed at him earnestly. “There are many such beings, even in + your world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. They are + in reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always longing to + act and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble-minded enough to + accept such a state, do you think?” +

+

+ “If it’s possible, I accept it,” replied Maskull + quietly. “Not in spite of its heaviness, but because of it. But how + is it possible?” +

+

+ “Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of + which you have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I don’t + hold you to your word, for unless it’s a free sacrifice I will have + nothing to do with it.” +

+

+ “I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, + you have my consent, once for all.” +

+

+ “Then we’ll leave it like that for the present,” said + Tydomin sadly. +

+

+ They proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed + rather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long + divergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly + formed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature, + insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against a + tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His + beardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in other + respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual type. + His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a sorb nor a + third arm—so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn. His forehead, + however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard assortment of + eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes. They went in pairs, + and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by a peculiar shining—the + rest remained dull, until their turn came. In addition to the upper eyes + he had the two lower ones, but they were vacant and lifeless. This + extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively alive and dead, gave the + young man an appearance of almost alarming mental activity. He was wearing + nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull seemed somehow to recognise the + face, though he had certainly never set eyes on it before. +

+

+ Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to rest + in the shade. +

+

+ “Question him, Maskull,” she said, rather carelessly, jerking + her head toward the stranger. +

+

+ Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, “What’s + your name, and where do you come from?” +

+

+ The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes, then + with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to Tydomin, + who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in a dry, manly, + nervous voice. “I am Digrung. I have arrived here from Matterplay.” + His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of whom he + reminded him. It was of Joiwind. +

+

+ “Perhaps you’re going to Poolingdred, Digrung?” he + inquired, interested. +

+

+ “As a matter of fact I am—if I can find my way out of this + accursed country.” +

+

+ “Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?” +

+

+ “She’s my sister. I’m on my way to see her now. Why, do + you know her?” +

+

+ “I met her yesterday.” +

+

+ “What is your name, then?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four + years. Is she well, and happy?” +

+

+ “Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?” +

+

+ “Her husband—yes. But where do you come from? I’ve seen + nothing like you before.” +

+

+ “From another world. Where is Matterplay?” +

+

+ “It’s the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea.” +

+

+ “What is it like there—how do you amuse yourselves? The same + old murders and sudden deaths?” +

+

+ “Are you ill?” asked Digrung. “Who is this woman, why + are you following at her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What’s + that corpse—why are you dragging it around the country with you?” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “I’ve already heard it said about Matterplay, + that if one sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately + springs up. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, Digrung?” +

+

+ “I don’t attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, + and I see insanity. That wouldn’t matter, but I don’t like to + see a man of intelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes.” +

+

+ “I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge + character. However, I don’t mind. Your opinion’s nothing to + me, Digrung. You’d better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his + own sake—but your feminine friend is sure to be curious about your + having been seen carrying a dead man.” +

+

+ Maskull’s underlip shot out. “Tell your sister nothing, + Digrung. Don’t mention my name at all. I don’t want her to + know about this meeting of ours.” +

+

+ “Why not?” +

+

+ “I don’t wish it—isn’t that enough?” +

+

+ Digrung looked impassive. +

+

+ “Thoughts and words,” he said, “which don’t + correspond with the real events of the world are considered most shameful + in Matterplay.” +

+

+ “I’m not asking you to lie, only to keep silent.” +

+

+ “To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can’t + accede to your wish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it.” +

+

+ Maskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example. +

+

+ She touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. “The + dead man is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you’ll + understand why he wishes you to hold your tongue.” +

+

+ “I guessed there was some foul play,” said Digrung. “It + doesn’t matter—I can’t falsify facts. Joiwind must know.” +

+

+ “You refuse to consider her feelings?” said Maskull, turning + pale. +

+

+ “Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on + realities, aren’t worth considering. But Joiwind’s are not of + that kind.” +

+

+ “If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without + seeing her; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting + when she hears your news.” +

+

+ “What are these strange relations between you?” demanded + Digrung, eying him with suddenly aroused suspicion. +

+

+ Maskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. “Good God! You don’t + doubt your own sister. That pure angel!” +

+

+ Tydomin caught hold of him delicately. “I don’t know Joiwind, + but, whoever she is and whatever she’s like, I know this—she’s + more fortunate in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really value + her happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or other.” +

+

+ “I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey.” +

+

+ “If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough.” +

+

+ Maskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. “I seem to be leaving + a wake of corpses behind me on this journey.” +

+

+ “Why a corpse? There’s no need to kill him.” +

+

+ “Thanks for that!” said Digrung dryly. “All the same, + some crime is about to burst. I feel it.” +

+

+ “What must I do, then?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very + interested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate + long. Don’t you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set + their feeble, obstinate wills against yours?” +

+

+ “That is a worse crime,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales.” +

+

+ Digrung laughed, but changed colour. “I was right then. The monster + has sprung into the light of day.” +

+

+ Maskull laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have the choice, and we + are not joking. Do as I ask.” +

+

+ “You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I + can’t talk to you. As for you, woman—sin must be like a + pleasant bath to you....” +

+

+ “There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a + passer-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you.” +

+

+ “Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are + legitimate and right.” +

+

+ “Do as you please,” said Tydomin. “If you come to grief, + your thoughts will hardly have corresponded with the real events of the + world, which is what you boast about. It is no affair of mine.” +

+

+ “I shall go on, and not back!” exclaimed Digrung, with angry + emphasis. +

+

+ Tydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. “Bear witness that I + have tried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick + decision in your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, + Digrung’s happiness or Joiwind’s. Digrung won’t allow + you to preserve them both.” +

+

+ “It won’t take me long to decide, Digrung, I gave you a last + chance to change your mind.” +

+

+ “As long as it’s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister + against her criminal friends.” +

+

+ Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. Instructed in + his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young man + tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet delight + immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he comprehended + the triumphant joys of “absorbing.” It satisfied the hunger of + the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung proved + feeble—he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly and + evenly into Maskull’s. The latter became strong and gorged. The + victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in + his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his + second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected + her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to + pick up Crimtyphon’s corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung’s + dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask. +

+

+ “Why hasn’t he altered?” he muttered to himself. +

+

+ Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot. + “He isn’t dead—that’s why. The expression you mean + is waiting for your death.” +

+

+ “Then is that my real character?” +

+

+ She laughed softly. “You came here to carve a strange world, and now + it appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there’s no doubt about it, + Maskull. You needn’t stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like + the rest of us. You are not a king, or a god.” +

+

+ “Since when have I belonged to him?” +

+

+ “What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of + Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and + strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed and + looking very grave. +

+

+ The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The + character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier + and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with + rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like a + mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the + intervening spaces were so wide—Tydomin, however, knew the way. The + intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape, + emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on + Maskull’s mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of + Disscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them. +

+

+ The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely + melted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood out + with terrific brilliance. They were directly beneath the bulk of the + mountain, which was not a mile away. It did not appear dangerous to climb, + but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay. +

+

+ It was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few + pale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, motionless + threads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. It was strewn with + detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks projected everywhere like iron + teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small black hole near the base, which might be + a cave. “That is where I live.” +

+

+ “You live here alone?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “It’s an odd choice for a woman—and you are not + unbeautiful, either.” +

+

+ “A woman’s life is over at twenty-five,” she replied, + sighing. “And I am far older than that. Ten years ago it would have + been I who lived yonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn’t have + happened.” +

+

+ A quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. It was + ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black. +

+

+ “Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun,” directed + Tydomin. He did so. +

+

+ She cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. “Does your resolution + still hold, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t it hold? My brains are not feathers.” +

+

+ “Follow me, then.” +

+

+ They both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening crash, + like heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull’s weakened + heart thumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, and dust, + swept past the cave entrance from above. If their going in had been + delayed by a single minute, they would have been killed. +

+

+ Tydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started + walking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold as ice. + At the first bend the light from the outer world disappeared, leaving them + in absolute blackness. Maskull kept stumbling over the uneven ground, but + she kept tight hold of him, and hurried him along. +

+

+ The tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the + atmosphere changed—or such was his impression. He was somehow led to + imagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin stopped, and + then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping hand encountered + stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered that it was a sort of + stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen inches from the ground. + She told him to lie down. +

+

+ “Has the time come?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ He lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to + happen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any gradation, + he lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer able to feel his + limbs or internal organs. His mind remained active and alert. Nothing + particular appeared to be taking place. +

+

+ Then the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He could + see nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He fancied that he + heard music, but while he was listening for it, it stopped. The light grew + stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the confused sound of distant + voices. +

+

+ Suddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone scream + faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything clearly. +

+

+ He was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, lighted by + electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, but by a man + dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face he was certainly + familiar, but under what circumstances he could not recall. Other people + stood in the background—they too were vaguely known to him. He sat + up and began to smile, without any especial reason; and then stood + upright. +

+

+ Everybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion—he + wondered why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in + particular he knew—the man at the farther end of the room, who paced + restlessly backward and forward, his face transfigured by stern, holy + grandeur; and that other big, bearded man—who was himself. + Yes—he was looking at his own double. But it was just as if a + crime-riddled man of middle age were suddenly confronted with his own + photograph as an earnest, idealistic youth. +

+

+ His other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not comprehend + the sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a short, + brutish-looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in an + extraordinary manner to everyone around him; and after that came straight + up to him—Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were + incomprehensible. A terrible expression came over the newcomer’s + face, and he grasped his neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull felt his + bones bending and breaking, excruciating pains passed through all the + nerves of his body, and he experienced a sense of impending death. He + cried out, and sank helplessly on the floor, in a heap. The chamber and + the company vanished—the light went out. +

+

+ Once more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this time + lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his hand. He + was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting for the + despairing anguish that filled his mind. +

+

+ Tydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. “Why are you back + so soon? I’ve not had time yet. You must return.” +

+

+ He caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a low + scream, as though in pain. “What does this mean—what are you + doing, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Krag—” began Maskull, but the effort to produce his + words choked him, so that he was obliged to stop. +

+

+ “Krag—what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my + arm.” +

+

+ He gripped her arm tighter. +

+

+ “Yes, I’ve seen Krag. I’m awake.” +

+

+ “Oh! You are awake, awake.” +

+

+ “And you must die,” said Maskull, in an awful voice. +

+

+ “But why? What has happened?...” +

+

+ “You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no + other reason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!” +

+

+ Tydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to + regain her self-possession. +

+

+ “You won’t offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?” +

+

+ “No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured + that you must die—you must expiate your fearful crimes.” +

+

+ “You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have + escaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come outside. + I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also been courteous + to you. I make no other supplication.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ BY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre was at + its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward—a long + succession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them the bright, + stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand feet or more. + Maskull’s eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; he was still + holding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to speak, or to get + away. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed. +

+

+ After gazing at the country for a long time in silence, he turned toward + her. “Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?” +

+

+ “It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?” +

+

+ “It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow + calmer, and that’s what I want. I wish you to understand that what + is going to happen is not a murder, but an execution.” +

+

+ “It will taste the same,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ “When I have gone out of this country, I don’t wish to feel + that I have left a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be + fair to others. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy death + for you.” +

+

+ She shrugged her shoulders. “We must wait till Blodsombre is over.” +

+

+ “Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we + will both be cool by evening. We must start at once.” +

+

+ “Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry + Crimtyphon?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her strangely. +

+

+ “I grudge no man his funeral.” +

+

+ She painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they stepped + out into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on the head. + Maskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no compassion + entered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman had done him. +

+

+ The way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its base. It + was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by cracks and water + gullies; they could see the water, but could not get at it. There was no + shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in their blood + seemed to dry up. +

+

+ Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil’s delight at Tydomin’s. + “Sing me a song!” he called out presently. “A + characteristic one.” +

+

+ She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without any + sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird. The + song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to ascertain whether + he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of the grotesque melody began + to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the words were pure nonsense—or + else their significance was too deep for him. +

+

+ “Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that + stuff, woman?” +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with ghastly + jerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with her two left + arms. “It’s a pity we could not have met as friends, Maskull. + I could have shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps you will never + see. The wild, mad side. But now it’s too late, and it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ They turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the western + base. +

+

+ “Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?” asked + Maskull. +

+

+ “It is easiest to go to Sant.” +

+

+ “Will we see it from anywhere?” +

+

+ “Yes, though it is a long way off.” +

+

+ “Have you been there?” +

+

+ “I am a woman, and interdicted.” +

+

+ “True. I have heard something of the sort.” +

+

+ “But don’t ask me any more questions,” said Tydomin, who + was becoming faint. +

+

+ Maskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made a cup + of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay down her + burden. The gnawl water acted like magic—it seemed to replenish all + the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty sponge pores, + sucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self-possession. +

+

+ About three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second + corner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn. +

+

+ A hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the + mountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with a + sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere + immediately over a furnace. +

+

+ “The lake is underneath,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country sloped + away in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a narrow path + channelled its way up through the rocks toward the towering summit of the + pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped + plateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was Sant—and + there and then he made up his mind that that should be his destination + that day. +

+

+ Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down Crimtyphon’s + body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined her; arrived at the + brink, he immediately flung himself at full length on his chest, to see + what could be seen of the lake of fire. A gust of hot, asphyxiating air + smote his face and set him coughing, but he did not get up until he had + stared his fill at the huge sea of green, molten lava, tossing and + swirling at no great distance below, like a living will. +

+

+ A faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he did so + his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his soul. All the + world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, and without + meaning.... +

+

+ He climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead + husband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and fondling his + violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the withered + lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all three arms, + she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and, after an + instant’s hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It + disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That was + Crimtyphon’s funeral. +

+

+ “Now I am ready, Maskull.” +

+

+ He did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing, erect + and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face was wan, and + there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew that it was a + phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at Poolingdred. +

+

+ “Turn around, Tydomin,” he said oddly, “and tell me what + you see behind you.” +

+

+ “I don’t see anything,” she answered, looking around. +

+

+ “But I see Joiwind.” +

+

+ Just as he was speaking, the apparition vanished. +

+

+ “Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it.” +

+

+ The woman fingered her chin thoughtfully. +

+

+ “I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of + my own sex—but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?” +

+

+ “I really saw Krag.” +

+

+ “Yes, some miracle must have taken place.” She suddenly + shivered. “Come, let us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come + here again.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Maskull, “it stinks of death and dying. But + where are we to go—what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get + away from this hellish land.” +

+

+ Tydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an abrupt, + bitter little laugh. “We make our journey together in singular + stages. Rather than be alone, I’ll come with you—but you know + that if I set foot in Sant they will kill me.” +

+

+ “At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it + possible?” +

+

+ “If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you + not take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it won’t + hold—your luck.” +

+

+ “Let us start,” said Maskull. “The luck I’ve had + so far is nothing to brag about.” +

+

+ Blodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but the + heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence at + conversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The land + fell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward Sant there + was a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau continued to + dominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour they seemed none the + nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant. +

+

+ By and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted + Maskull’s notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still + on, imbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches sprang + out, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to twigs and + leaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been artificially + fastened on, at equal distances from each other. +

+

+ As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity + and self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was so momentary + that he could be sure of nothing. +

+

+ “What may that be, Tydomin?” +

+

+ “It is Hator’s Trifork.” +

+

+ “And what is its purpose?” +

+

+ “It’s a guide to Sant.” +

+

+ “But who or what is Hator?” +

+

+ “Hator was the founder of Sant—many thousands of years ago. He + laid down the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol. + When I was a little child my father told me the legends, but I’ve + forgotten most of them.” +

+

+ Maskull regarded it attentively. +

+

+ “Does it affect you in any way?” +

+

+ “And why should it do that?” she said, dropping her lip + scornfully. “I am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries.” +

+

+ “A sort of gladness came over me,” said Maskull, “but + perhaps I am mistaken.” +

+

+ They passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid + parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and + more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The + peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a + different order of things. +

+

+ Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the + air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and began + to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree. Maskull, + who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following her example. + A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and body, his muscles + regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat with hard, slow, strong + throbs. +

+

+ “Food and body seem to agree well in this world,” he remarked + smiling. +

+

+ She glanced toward him. “Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, + but in your body.” +

+

+ “I brought my body with me.” +

+

+ “You brought your soul with you, but that’s altering fast, + too.” +

+

+ In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but + possessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles of a + cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry animal, + somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the most + extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to realise that + the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from branch to + branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned mouse is + thrown by a cat from paw to paw. +

+

+ He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest. +

+

+ “That’s a gruesome reversal of rtles, Tydomin.” +

+

+ “One can see you’re disgusted,” she replied, stifling a + yawn. “But that is because you are a slave to words. If you called + that plant an animal, you would find its occupation perfectly natural and + pleasing. And why should you not call it an animal?” +

+

+ “I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I + shall go on listening to this sort of language.” +

+

+ They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became + overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed + into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A + chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker, the + sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at himself, + Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a kind of + green hoarfrost. +

+

+ The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them, + against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts + gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and + self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were not + waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning. +

+

+ “Then they are dangerous?” +

+

+ “So we think,” she answered, watching them closely. +

+

+ “Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion.” +

+

+ Among the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking with + a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and Tydomin. + There was something unusual in his appearance—his form looked + extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real. +

+

+ “If there’s danger, he ought to be warned,” said + Maskull. +

+

+ “He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,” + returned the woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the + arm, and continued to watch. +

+

+ The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, but + turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the + proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full + height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He + seemed to be addressing the columns. +

+

+ While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a + series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He dropped + his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood still, + waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person grew more + and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be composed of + some substance heavier and denser than solid matter. +

+

+ Tydomin looked perplexed. +

+

+ “He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. + This is a day of days for me.” +

+

+ “He must be an individual of great importance,” murmured + Maskull. +

+

+ They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed + in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the wind, the + green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, + through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron. + There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting + chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were two flat + membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes were + expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stern + eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as + though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was + middle-aged. +

+

+ His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, every + object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin’s + person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and + Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening + fire began running through his veins. +

+

+ He turned to the woman. “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear + him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.” +

+

+ “Let Tydomin come too.” +

+

+ The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as + intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English. +

+

+ “You who know my name, also know my sex,” said Tydomin + quietly. “It is death for me to enter Sant.” +

+

+ “That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law.” +

+

+ “Is it so—and will it be accepted?” +

+

+ “The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming + underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.” +

+

+ The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood + talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked Maskull, with a beating heart. +

+

+ “My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean + of space, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter + of the despised sex, shall be my second.” +

+

+ “The new law? But what is it?” +

+

+ “Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both + of you, to me!” +

+

+ Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her sorb + and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes. When he + removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into twin + membranes like Spadevil’s own. +

+

+ Tydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while, + apparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her eyes + and, snatching up Spadevil’s hand, she bent over and kissed it + hurriedly many times. +

+

+ “My past has been bad,” she said. “Numbers have received + harm from me, and none good. I have killed—and worse. But now I can + throw all that away, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, + you and I have been fools together!” +

+

+ “Don’t you repent your crimes?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Leave the past alone,” said Spadevil, “it cannot be + reshaped. The future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this + very minute. Why do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?” +

+

+ “What is the name of those organs, and what is their function?” +

+

+ “They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new + world.” +

+

+ Maskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb. +

+

+ While the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law quietly + flowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream of clean water + which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive will. The law was duty. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their + own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his + eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him, but + his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external things + had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to whether they + served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or otherwise, they + had been pleasant or painful. Now these words “pleasure” and + “pain” simply had no meaning. +

+

+ The other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted with his + new mental outlook. He smiled at them. +

+

+ “You were quite right, Tydomin,” he said, in a bold, cheerful + voice. “We have been fools. So near the light all the time, and we + never guessed it. Always buried in the past or future—systematically + ignoring the present—and now it turns out that apart from the + present we have no life at all.” +

+

+ “Thank Spadevil for it,” she answered, more loudly than usual. +

+

+ Maskull looked at the man’s dark, concrete form. “Spadevil, + now I mean to follow you to the end. I can do nothing less.” +

+

+ The severe face showed no sign of gratification—not a muscle + relaxed. +

+

+ “Watch that you don’t lose your gift,” he said gruffly. +

+

+ Tydomin spoke. “You promised that I should enter Sant with you.” +

+

+ “Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, + but the truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us + journey together, all three of us.” +

+

+ The words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the fine, + driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He walked with a + long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order to keep up with him. + The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the middle. The fog was so dense + that it was impossible to see a hundred yards ahead. The ground was + covered by the green snow. The wind blew in gusts from the Sant highlands + and was piercingly cold. +

+

+ “Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He that is not more than a man is nothing.” +

+

+ “Where have you now come from?” +

+

+ “From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I + have brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after many + months’ absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me in + its simple splendour, like an upturned diamond.” +

+

+ “I see its shining,” said Maskull. “But how much does it + owe to ancient Hator?” +

+

+ “Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is + to me. Hator also was a brooder—but now his followers do not brood. + In Sant all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate pleasure, and + this hatred is the greatest pleasure to them.” +

+

+ “But in what way have they fallen off from Hator’s doctrines?” +

+

+ “For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare, + a limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, mocking + enemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of life, in order + to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the soul, he shielded + himself behind pain. This also his followers do, but they do not do + it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of vanity and pride.” +

+

+ “What is the Trifork?” +

+

+ “The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is + disentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is power + over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third fork is the + healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water.” +

+

+ “From what land did Hator come?” +

+

+ “It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many + legends told of him while there.” +

+

+ “We have a long way to go,” said Tydomin. “Relate some + of these legends, Spadevil.” +

+

+ The snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like a + phantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain. +

+

+ “In those days,” said Spadevil, “there existed in Ifdawn + a mountain island separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A + handsome girl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across + which men and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn Hator + on to this rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until it tumbled + into the depths below. ‘You and I, Hator, are now together, and + there is no means of separating. I wish to see how long the famous frost + man can withstand the breath, smiles and perfume of a girl.’ Hator + said no word, either then or all that day. He stood till sunset like a + tree trunk, and thought of other things. Then the girl grew passionate, + and shook her curls. She rose from where she was sitting she looked at + him, and touched his arm; but he did not see her. She looked at him, so + that all the soul was in her eyes; and then she fell down dead. Hator + awoke from his thoughts, and saw her lying, still warm, at his feet, a + corpse. He passed to the mainland; but how, it is not related.” +

+

+ Tydomin shuddered. “You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; + but your method is a nobler one.” +

+

+ “Don’t pity other women,” said Spadevil, “but love + the right. Hator also once conversed with Shaping.” +

+

+ “With the Maker of the World?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his + world, and tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. But + Hator, answering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, iron words, + showed how this joy and beauty was but another name for the bestiality of + souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping smiled, and said, ‘How + comes it that your wisdom is greater than that of the Master of wisdom?’ + Hator said, ‘My wisdom does not come from you, nor from your world, + but from that other world, which you, Shaping, have vainly tried to + imitate.’ Shaping replied, ‘What, then, do you do in my world?’ + Hator said, ‘I am here falsely, and therefore I am subject to your + false pleasures. But I wrap myself in pain—not because it is + good, but because I wish to keep myself as far from you as possible. For + pain is not yours, neither does it belong to the other world, but it is + the shadow cast by your false pleasures.’ Shaping then said, ‘What + is this faraway other world of which you say “This is so—this + is not so?” How happens it that you alone of all my creatures have + knowledge of it?’ But Hator spat at his feet, and said, ‘You + lie, Shaping. All have knowledge of it. You, with your pretty toys, alone + obscure it from our view.’ Shaping asked, ‘What, then, am I?’ + Hator answered, ‘You are the dreamer of impossible dreams.’ + And then the story goes that Shaping departed, ill pleased with what had + been said.” +

+

+ “What other world did Hator refer to?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here.” +

+

+ “Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference,” said + Maskull. “The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is + mean and corrupt-natured.” +

+

+ “Guard you your pride!” returned Spadevil. “Do not make + law for the universe and for all time, but for yourself and for this + small, false life of yours.” +

+

+ “In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?” + asked Tydomin. +

+

+ “He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last + hour. When he saw that death could not be staved off longer he determined + to destroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; not from vanity, + but that they might see to what lengths the human soul can go in its + perpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. Standing erect, without + support, he died by withholding his breath.” +

+

+ A silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds refused + to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their thoughts became + frozen. +

+

+ When Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued power, + Maskull’s curiosity rose once more. “Your fellow countrymen, + then, Spadevil, are sick with self-love?” +

+

+ “The men of other countries,” said Spadevil, “are the + slaves of pleasure and desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are + the slaves of pleasure and desire, not knowing it.” +

+

+ “And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has + something noble in it.” +

+

+ “He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as + well as body can a man enter into true life.” +

+

+ “On what grounds do they reject women?” +

+

+ “Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. + Love for another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore injurious to + him.” +

+

+ “A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe,” said + Maskull. “But will they allow it?” +

+

+ “Spadevil knows, Maskull,” said Tydomin, “that be it + today or be it tomorrow, love can’t be kept out of a land, even by + the disciples of Hator.” +

+

+ “Beware of love—beware of emotion!” exclaimed Spadevil. + “Love is but pleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, + but of serving them.” +

+

+ “Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine.” +

+

+ “Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you + are a woman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul.” +

+

+ “But where there are no women, there are no children,” said + Maskull. “How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?” +

+

+ “Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the + yearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all parts, in + order to have the scars of their souls healed.” +

+

+ “In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what + simple formula do you offer?” +

+

+ “Iron obedience to duty,” answered Spadevil. +

+

+ “And if they ask ‘How far is this consistent with hatred of + pleasure?’ what will your pronouncement be?” +

+

+ “I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the + question. Hatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark fires + of self. Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one side, calm and + undisturbed.” +

+

+ “What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, + in order to avoid it?” +

+

+ “Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise.” +

+

+ Later in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on Spadevil’s + arm. +

+

+ “Fearful doubts are in my mind,” she said. “This + expedition to Sant may turn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, + Spadevil, and myself lying dead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not + there.” +

+

+ “We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others + will raise it.” +

+

+ “Show me a sign that you are not as other men—so that I may + know that our blood will not be wasted.” +

+

+ Spadevil regarded her sternly. “I am not a magician. I don’t + persuade the senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, + Tydomin? Then go there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no farther. + Is not this simple? What signs are necessary?” +

+

+ “Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man + could have done that.” +

+

+ “Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man + can do another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open their + eyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my life. Will + you not still accompany me?” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Tydomin, “I will follow you to the end. It + is all the more essential, because I keep on displeasing you with my + remarks, and that means I have not yet learned my lesson properly.” +

+

+ “Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we + are thinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be + planning or shaping in our mind.” +

+

+ Tydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied. +

+

+ “Why was Maskull not in the picture?” she asked. +

+

+ “You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. + There is nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is only + right and wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does not matter. + We are not gods, constructing a world, but simple men and women, doing our + immediate duty. We may die in Sant—so you have seen it; but the + truth will go on living.” +

+

+ “Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?” + asked Maskull. “These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least + likely of any to follow a new light.” +

+

+ “Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no + tree at all can be found, nothing will grow.” +

+

+ “I understand you,” said Maskull. “Here perhaps we are + going to martyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to + cattle.” +

+

+ Shortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland plain, + above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A dizzy, + artificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand steps of + varying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to the angles of + the precipices, led to the world overhead. In the place where they stood + they were sheltered from the cutting winds. Branchspell, radiantly shining + at last, but on the point of sinking, filled the cloudy sky with violent, + lurid colors, some of the combinations of which were new to Maskull. The + circle of the horizon was so gigantic, that had he been suddenly carried + back to Earth, he would by comparison have fancied himself to be moving + beneath the dome of some little, closed-in cathedral. He realised that he + was on a foreign planet. But he was not stirred or uplifted by the + knowledge; he was conscious only of moral ideas. Looking backward, he saw + the plain, which for several miles past had been without vegetation, + stretching back away to Disscourn. So regular had been the ascent, and so + great was the distance, that the huge pyramid looked nothing more than a + slight swelling on the face of the earth. +

+

+ Spadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the evening + sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever before. His + features were set hard in grimness. +

+

+ He turned around to his companions. “What is the greatest wonder, in + all this wonderful scene?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Acquaint us,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure + to pleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping’s + world.” +

+

+ “There is another wonder,” said Tydomin, and she pointed her + finger toward the sky overhead. +

+

+ A small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five hundred + feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall of cliff. It + was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with downward-pointing + fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and one or two tiny cloudlets + beneath the fingers looked like falling drops of blood. +

+

+ “Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?” said + Tydomin. “I have been close to death twice today. The first time I + was ready, but now I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the + man who has given me my first happiness.” +

+

+ “Do not think of death, but of right persistence,” replied + Spadevil. “I am not here to tremble before Shaping’s portents; + but to snatch men from him.” +

+

+ He at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed + upward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her eyes. + Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull climbed last. He + was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but his soul was at peace. As + they steadily ascended the almost perpendicular stairs, the sun got higher + in the sky. Its light dyed their bodies a ruddy gold. +

+

+ They gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as far as + the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here and there by + large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand were reddened by + the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled by evil-shaped clouds + and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying across the desert, drove the + fine particles of sand painfully against their faces. +

+

+ “Where now do you take us?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to + me, that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find + Maulger.” +

+

+ “And where will you seek him, in this bare country?” +

+

+ Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly. +

+

+ “It is not so far,” he said. “It is his custom to be in + that part where Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be + there, but I cannot say.” +

+

+ Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles + beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness. +

+

+ “The woman is tired, Spadevil,” he said. +

+

+ She smiled. “It’s but another step into the land of death. I + can manage it. Give me your arm, Maskull.” +

+

+ He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way. +

+

+ “The sun is now sinking,” said Maskull. “Will we get + there before dark?” +

+

+ “Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil + in your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall + arrive before dark.” +

+

+ The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the + western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid + colors. The wind grew colder. +

+

+ They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of which + were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was hard, + bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but he felt + braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other trees or + shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds or insects. + It was a desolate land. +

+

+ A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the plateau. + Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began. But + daylight had vanished there; Maskull’s eyes rested only on a vague + darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of + innumerable treetops. +

+

+ In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was + standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from + their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to + the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in the + mud close by his hand. +

+

+ They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became + aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out of + the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so. +

+

+ “This is not Maulger, but Catice,” said Spadevil. +

+

+ “Maulger is dead,” said Catice, speaking the same tongue as + Spadevil, but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull’s + ear was affected painfully. +

+

+ The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in years. + He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long and heavy, but + his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, lemon-coloured, and + anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of longitudinal ruts, a + quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which seemed clogged with ancient + dirt. The hair of his head was black and sparse. Instead of the twin + membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed but one; and this was in the + centre of his brow. +

+

+ Spadevil’s dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality + among dreams. +

+

+ “Has the trifork passed to you?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?” +

+

+ “I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith.” +

+

+ Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. “State it.” +

+

+ “Shall I speak with many words, or few words?” +

+

+ “If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. + If you wish to say what is, a few words will be enough.” +

+

+ Spadevil frowned. +

+

+ “To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill + pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is + planning right action, it has no time to think of pleasure.” +

+

+ “Is that the whole?” asked Catice. +

+

+ “The truth is simple, even for the simplest man.” +

+

+ “Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?” +

+

+ “I destroy nature, and set up law.” +

+

+ A long silence followed. +

+

+ “My probe is double,” said Spadevil. “Suffer me to + double yours, and you will see as I see.” +

+

+ “Come you here, you big man!” said Catice to Maskull. Maskull + advanced a step closer. +

+

+ “Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?” +

+

+ “As far as death,” exclaimed Maskull. +

+

+ Catice picked up a flint. “With this stone I strike out one of your + two probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will + recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall + obey your choice.” +

+

+ “Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men,” + said Spadevil. +

+

+ “The pain is nothing,” replied Maskull, “but I fear the + result.” +

+

+ “Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,” + said Tydomin, stretching out her hand. +

+

+ He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to + thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. “What brings this + kiss-lover to Sant?” he said. “How does she presume to make + the rules of life for the sons of Hator?” +

+

+ She bit her lip, and stepped back. “Well then, Maskull, accept! I + certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can.” +

+

+ “If he bids me, I must do it,” said Maskull. “But who + knows what will come of it?” +

+

+ Spadevil spoke. “Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most + wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking me + a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed will + escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men will know + that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here will live to + see that.” +

+

+ Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice + raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, brought + it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. Maskull cried + out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the function of the organ + was destroyed. +

+

+ There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the + blood. +

+

+ “What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?” inquired + Tydomin anxiously. +

+

+ He stopped, and stared hard at her. “I now see straight,” he + said slowly. +

+

+ “What does that mean?” +

+

+ He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled. + “Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and + refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same.” +

+

+ Spadevil gazed at him sternly. “Do you renounce my teaching?” +

+

+ Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil’s + image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he + knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect. +

+

+ “It is false.” +

+

+ “Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?” demanded + Tydomin. +

+

+ “I can’t argue as yet,” said Maskull. “At this + moment the world with its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I + feel a loathing for everything in it, including myself. I know no more.” +

+

+ “Is there no duty?” asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone. +

+

+ “It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of + other people.” +

+

+ Tydomin pulled at Spadevil’s arm. “Maskull has betrayed you, + as he has so many others. Let us go.” +

+

+ He stood fast. “You have changed quickly, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. “Why do men go on + living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?” +

+

+ “Pain is the native air of Surtur’s children. To what other + air do you wish to escape?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s children? Is not Surtur Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping’s masterpiece.” +

+

+ “Answer, Maskull!” said Spadevil. “Do you repudiate + right action?” +

+

+ “Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. + I wish you no harm.” +

+

+ The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence. +

+

+ Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. “The woman + must return home,” he said. +

+

+ “She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, + must die—backslider as you are!” +

+

+ Tydomin said quietly, “He has no power to enforce this. Are you + going to allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?” +

+

+ “It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from + death. Catice, I accept your judgment.” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, + so I shall die with him.” +

+

+ Catice said to Maskull, “Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his + mistress, according to the laws of Hator.” +

+

+ “I can’t do that. I have travelled in friendship with them.” +

+

+ “You denied duty; and now you must do your duty,” said + Spadevil, calmly stroking his beard. “Whatever law you accept, you + must obey, without turning to right or left. Your law commands that we + must be stoned; and it will soon be dark.” +

+

+ “Have you not even this amount of manhood?” exclaimed Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull moved heavily. “Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was + forced on me.” +

+

+ “Hator is looking on, and approving,” replied Catice. +

+

+ Maskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side of + the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments of rock, + the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in his arms, he + staggered back. +

+

+ He dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. When he + could speak again, he said, “I have a bad heart for the business. Is + there no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, and in the morning go + back to where you have come from. No one shall harm you.” +

+

+ Spadevil’s ironic smile was lost in the gloom. +

+

+ “Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after + that come back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose + the heavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin.” +

+

+ Maskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces. Spadevil + confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly. +

+

+ The huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a dark + shadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his features, and + breaking his neck. He died instantaneously. +

+

+ Tydomin looked away from the fallen man. +

+

+ “Be very quick, Maskull, and don’t let me keep him waiting.” +

+

+ He panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front of + Spadevil’s body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold. +

+

+ The blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull went to + her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his arms. There she + breathed out her last sighs. +

+

+ After that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands, while + he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic, spiritual + expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman came like a + flash; but he saw it. +

+

+ He stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him. +

+

+ “Is that the true likeness of Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is Shaping stripped of illusion.” +

+

+ “How comes this horrible world to exist?” +

+

+ Catice did not answer. +

+

+ “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here.” +

+

+ “I am wading through too much blood,” said Maskull. “Nothing + good can come of it.” +

+

+ “Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy.” +

+

+ Maskull meditated. +

+

+ “Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you + really have accepted his faith?” +

+

+ “He was a great-souled man,” replied Catice. “I see that + the pride of our men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I + too shall leave Sant, to reflect on all this.” +

+

+ Maskull shuddered. “Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but + a crime!” +

+

+ “His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged + down his ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, stranger, + but go away at once out of the land.” +

+

+ “Tonight? Where shall I go?” +

+

+ “To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you + on the way.” +

+

+ He linked his arm in Maskull’s, and they walked away into the night. + For a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind was + searching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of the + clouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no familiar + constellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was visible, and if so + which one it was. +

+

+ They came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the cliffside. It + resembled the one by which he had come up; but this descended to the + Wombflash Forest. +

+

+ “That is your path,” said Catice, “and I shall not come + any farther.” +

+

+ Maskull detained him. “Say just this, before we part company—why + does pleasure appear so shameful to us?” +

+

+ “Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home.” +

+

+ “And that is—” +

+

+ “Muspel,” answered Catice. +

+

+ Having made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back, + disappeared into the darkness. +

+

+ Maskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired, but + contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to discharge matter. + He lowered himself from step to step during what seemed an interminable + time. The rustling and sighing of the trees grew louder as he approached + the bottom; the air became still and warm. Inky blackness was all around + him. +

+

+ He at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he began to + trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After this had happened + a few times, he determined to go no farther that night. He heaped together + some dry leaves for a pillow, and immediately flung himself down to sleep. + Deep and heavy unconsciousness seized him almost instantly. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ He awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on his + side, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like night, but + that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to break and objects + begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or three amazing shadowy + shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of the twilight. He did not + realise that they were trees, until he turned over on his back and + followed their course upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared not + calculate the height, he saw their tops glittering in the sunlight, + against a tiny patch of blue sky. +

+

+ Clouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept interrupting + his view. In their silent passage they were like phantoms flitting among + the trees. The leaves underneath him were sodden, and heavy drops of + moisture splashed onto his head from time to time. +

+

+ He continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the + preceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something terrible + had happened, but what it was he could not for a long time recollect. Then + suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at dusk on + the Sant plateau—Spadevil’s crushed and bloody features and + Tydomin’s dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick. +

+

+ The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had + departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had + done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have been + labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had enslaved + him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They had forced him + to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had imagined that he + was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger. What was this nightmare + journey for—and would it continue, in the same way?... +

+

+ The silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound except the + pumping of blood through his arteries. +

+

+ Putting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had + disappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third eye was + on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not guess its use. + He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless. +

+

+ Now he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to recall + that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice. +

+

+ He got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no toilet to + make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. The nearest tree + appeared to him to have a circumference of at least a hundred feet. Other + dim boles looked equally large. But what gave the scene its aspect of + immensity was the vast spaces separating tree from tree. It was like some + gigantic, supernatural hall in a life after death. The lowest branches + were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was no underbrush; the + soil was carpeted only by the dead, wet leaves. He looked all around him, + to find his direction, but the cliffs of Sant, which he had descended, + were invisible—every way was like every other way, he had no idea + which quarter to attack. He grew frightened, and muttered to himself. + Craning his neck back, he stared upward and tried to discover the points + of the compass from the direction of the sunlight, but it was impossible. +

+

+ While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum + taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen + drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him. +

+

+ “Surtur!” he said, under his breath. The next moment he + marvelled at himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not + been in his thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him + and the drumming. +

+

+ He began to reflect—but in the meantime the sounds were travelling + away. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum + beats had this peculiarity—though odd and mystical, there was + nothing awe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of + some place and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again + they caused all his other sense impressions to appear false. +

+

+ The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for five + minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull followed + them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge, indistinct trees, + in the attempt to come up with the origin of the noise, but the same + distance always seemed to separate them. The forest from now onward + descended. The gradient was mostly gentle—about one foot in ten—but + in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts again it was + practically level ground for quite long stretches. There were great swampy + marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash. It was a matter of + indifference to him how wet he became—if only he could catch sight + of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was covered, and still + he was no nearer to doing so. +

+

+ The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt despondent, + tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some while, and was + half inclined to discontinue the pursuit. +

+

+ Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against a + man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against the trunk + with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was resting on a + staff. Maskull stopped short and stared at him. +

+

+ He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a + head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes—three + in number—were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin + was hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils, + and fastened like a woman’s. His features were absolutely tranquil, + but a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Did the drumming come from you?” +

+

+ The man shook his head. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ He replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered that + the name he gave was “Dreamsinter.” +

+

+ “What is that drumming?” +

+

+ “Surtur,” said Dreamsinter. +

+

+ “Is it advisable for me to follow it?” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face. + “Not you, but Nightspore.” +

+

+ This was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore’s name + since his arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could frame + no more questions. +

+

+ “Eat this,” said Dreamsinter. “Then we will chase the + sound together.” He picked something up from the ground and handed + it to Maskull. He could not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round + nut, of the size of a fist. +

+

+ “I can’t crack it.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. Maskull + then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely disagreeable. +

+

+ “What am I doing in Tormance, then?” he asked. +

+

+ “You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men—never + doubting if your soul could endure that burning.” +

+

+ Maskull could hardly decipher the strangled words. +

+

+ “Muspel.... That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember + ever since I awoke.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen for + something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet. +

+

+ “Is it the drumming?” +

+

+ “Hush! They come.” +

+

+ He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm was + heard—this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet. +

+

+ Maskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, three men + in single file separated from one another by only a yard or so. They were + travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked neither to left nor + right. They were naked. Their figures were shining against the black + background of the forest with a pale, supernatural light—green and + ghostly. When they were abreast of him, about twenty feet off, he + perceived who they were. The first man was himself—Maskull. The + second was Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their faces were grim and + set. +

+

+ The source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to come + from some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves + in motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. At the same time a + low, faint music began. +

+

+ Its rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it did not + seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. It resembled + the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies the dreamer + everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering all his experiences + emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly orchestra, and was + strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull marched, and listened; and + as he listened, it grew louder and stormier. But the pulse of the drum + interpenetrated all the other sounds, like the quiet beating of reality. +

+

+ His emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours were + passing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way ahead, on a path + parallel with his own and Dreamsinter’s. The music pulsated + violently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, murderous-looking + knife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the phantom Maskull’s + back, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the wound the second time. + Maskull threw up his arms, and fell down dead. Krag leaped into the forest + and vanished from sight. Nightspore marched on alone, stern and unmoved. +

+

+ The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was roaring + with sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from the ground + under their feet. It was so grandly passionate that Maskull felt his soul + loosening from its bodily envelope. +

+

+ He continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to glow in + front of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as he had never + seen before, and such as he could not have imagined to be possible. + Nightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his chest bursting. The + light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of the music followed hard one + upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was + incapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over in + a faint that resembled death. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and + opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent in the + forest. The strange light had gone, the music had ceased, Dreamsinter had + vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin’s blood, and + fell into a deep muse. +

+

+ “According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. + Perhaps Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a + specimen of his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my question.... + I ought not to have asked about myself, but about Surtur. Then I would + have got a different answer. I might have learned something... I might + have seen him.” +

+

+ He remained quiet and apathetic for a bit. +

+

+ “But I couldn’t face that awful glare,” he proceeded. + “It was bursting my body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does + really exist, and my journey stands for something. But why am I here, and + what can I do? Who is Surtur? Where is he to be found?” +

+

+ Something wild came into his eyes. +

+

+ “What did Dreamsinter mean by his ‘Not you, but Nightspore’? + Am I a secondary character—is he regarded as important; and I as + unimportant? Where is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to wait for + his time and pleasure—can I originate nothing?” +

+

+ He continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs. +

+

+ “I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the + strangest things will happen in it. It’s no use making plans, for I + can’t see two steps ahead—everything is unknown. But one thing’s + evident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and I + must sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur shows + himself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means death.” +

+

+ Through the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came again. + The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the last + mutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, without + getting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not return. +

+

+ He smiled queerly, and said aloud, “Thanks, Surtur! I accept the + omen.” +

+

+ When he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that had + been his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every movement of his + body. He made perforations in it all around, as close to his chest as + possible, with the fingernails of both hands; then he carefully twisted it + off. In that world of rapid growth and ungrowth he judged that the stump + would soon disappear. After that, he rose and peered into the darkness. +

+

+ The forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking twice + about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it would bring + him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper became gloomy and + morose—he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid with hunger; + moreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be a short one. Be + that as it may, he determined to sit down no more until the whole dismal + forest was at his back. +

+

+ One after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, avoided, and + passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky was still always + visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of day. He continued + tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, slippery miles—in + some places through bogs. When, presently, the twilight seemed to thin, he + guessed that the open world was not far away. The forest grew more + palpable and grey, and now he saw its majesty better. The tree trunks were + like round towers, and so wide were the intervals that they resembled + natural amphitheatres. He could not make out the colour of the bark. + Everything he saw amazed him, but his admiration was of the growling, + grudging kind. The difference in light between the forest behind him and + the forest ahead became so marked that he could no longer doubt that he + was on the point of coming out. +

+

+ Real light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a shadow. + The trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. As the minutes + went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and vivid; it had a tinge of + blue. He also imagined that he heard the sound of surf. +

+

+ All that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich with + colour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their leaves, + high above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the ground were + of a colour he could not name. At the same time he discovered the use of + his third eye. By adding a third angle to his sight, every object he + looked at stood out in greater relief. The world looked less flat—more + realistic and significant. He had a stronger attraction toward his + surroundings; he seemed somehow to lose his egotism, and to become free + and thoughtful. +

+

+ Now through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a mile + separated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to discover what + lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf louder. It was a + peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from water, yet was unlike + the sea. Almost immediately he came within sight of an enormous horizon of + dancing waves, which he knew must be the Sinking Sea. He fell back into a + quick walk, continuing to stare hard. The wind that met him was hot, fresh + and sweet. +

+

+ When he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide sands + of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his back to a + great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in front of him. + The sands continued east and west in a straight line, broken only here and + there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant orange colour, but there + were patches of violet. The forest appeared to stand sentinel over the + shore for its entire length. Everything else was sea and sky—he had + never seen so much water. The semicircle of the skyline was so vast that + he might have imagined himself on a flat world, with a range of vision + determined only by the power of his eye. The sea was unlike any sea on + Earth. It resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body colour of rich, + magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and blue were + everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was extraordinary. + Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they attained a height of + perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would suddenly sink downward and + outward, creating in their descent a series of concentric rings for long + distances around them. Quickly moving currents, like rivers in the sea, + could be seen, racing away from land; they were of a darker green and bore + no pinnacles. Where the sea met the shore, the waves rushed over the sands + far in, with almost sinister rapidity—accompanied by a weird, + hissing, spitting sound, which was what Maskull had heard. The green + tongues rolled in without foam. +

+

+ About twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a long, + low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished in outline. + It was Swaylone’s Island. Maskull was less interested in that than + in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain had set, but the + whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by its afterlight. + Branchspell in the zenith was white and overpowering, the day was + cloudless and terrifically hot; but where the blue sun had sunk, a sombre + shadow seemed to overhang the world. Maskull had a feeling of + disintegration—just as if two chemically distinct forces were + simultaneously acting upon the cells of his body. Since the afterglow of + Alppain affected him like this, he thought it more than likely that he + would never be able to face that sun itself, and go on living. Still, some + modification might happen to him that would make it possible. +

+

+ The sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once walked + toward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow line of the + forest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on him so savagely + that for a few minutes he felt sick and his head swam. He trod quickly + across the sands. The orange-coloured parts were nearly hot enough to + roast food, he judged, but the violet parts were like fire itself. He + stepped on a patch in ignorance, and immediately jumped high into the air + with a startled yell. +

+

+ The sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he + determined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin garment, + washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the sun to dry. + Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed out his beard and + hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until the water reached his + breast, and took to swimming—avoiding the spouts as far as possible + He found it no pastime. The water was everywhere of unequal density. In + some places he could swim, in others he could barely save himself from + drowning, in others again he could not force himself beneath the surface + at all. There were no outward signs to show what the water ahead held in + store for him. The whole business was most dangerous. +

+

+ He came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up and + down the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking around him. + He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical world, and whichever + way he turned, unknown and threatening forces were glaring at him. The + gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the awful, body-changing Alppain, + the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, the dark and eerie Swaylone’s + Island, the spirit-crushing forest out of which he had just escaped—to + all these mighty powers, surrounding him on every side, what resources had + he, a feeble, ignorant traveller from a tiny planet on the other side of + space, to oppose, to avoid being utterly destroyed?... Then he smiled to + himself. “I’ve already been here two days, and still I + survive. I have luck—and with that one can balance the universe. But + what is luck—a verbal expression, or a thing?” +

+

+ As he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to him, + and this time he was grave. “Surtur brought me here, and Surtur is + watching over me. That is my ‘luck.’... But what is Surtur in + this world?... How is he able to protect me against the blind and + ungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature?...” +

+

+ Hungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, for he + wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself which way he + should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along the shore, either + east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, cutting the sands about a + mile away. He walked toward it. +

+

+ The forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so squarely + turned to the sea that it looked as though it had been planed by tools. + Maskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but kept his head + constantly turned away from them, toward the sea—there it was more + cheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to be broad and + flat-banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. Its still, dark + green water curved around a bend out of sight, into the forest. The trees + on both banks overhung the water, so that it was completely in shadow. +

+

+ He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared. A + man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water. He + was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He was + short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms, + terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face was + plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and + walnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough and + leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there was no + trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling. He + possessed three eyes, of different colors—jade-green, blue, and + ulfire. +

+

+ In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an + elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded + together. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Are you another of the wise men of the + Wombflash Forest?” +

+

+ The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so. + “I’m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.” +

+

+ “What name do you go by?” +

+

+ “Polecrab. What’s yours?” +

+

+ “Maskull. If you’re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I’m + famishing.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. +

+

+ “There’s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. + It’s easy enough to get you some more.” +

+

+ Maskull found this a pleasant speech. +

+

+ “But how long will it take?” he asked. +

+

+ The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, + screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto + the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to + his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It was + about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had six + legs, ending in strong claws. +

+

+ “Arg, go fish!” said Polecrab hoarsely. +

+

+ The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam + gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath the + surface, where it remained a great while. +

+

+ “Simple fishing,” remarked Maskull. “But what’s + the raft for?” +

+

+ “To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.” +

+

+ “That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted again. “I’ve trained close on a hundred of + them. The bigheads learn best, but they’re slow swimmers. The + narrowheads swim like eels, but can’t be taught. Now I’ve + started interbreeding them—he’s one of them.” +

+

+ “Do you live here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I’ve got a wife and three boys. My wife’s sleeping + somewhere, but where the lads are, Shaping knows.” +

+

+ Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being. +

+

+ “The raft’s all crazy,” he remarked, staring at it. + “If you go far out in that, you’ve got more pluck than I have.” +

+

+ “I’ve been to Matterplay on it,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time clumsily, + as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When it landed at + its master’s feet, they saw that each set of claws was clutching a + fish—six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded to cut off + the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked up; these he + threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss. +

+

+ Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, walked + toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When they reached + the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and digging a shallow + hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder of the carcasses in + it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his own dinner. Maskull’s + nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was not yet to dine. +

+

+ Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, “These + are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me, + supposing you want company.” +

+

+ “How soon will that be?” +

+

+ “About twenty minutes,” replied the fisherman, over his + shoulder. +

+

+ Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When + the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching his + fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the sand + which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to Polecrab. +

+

+ In the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched in + silence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back again. + With every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He finished + before Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no value. When he + had done, he stood up. +

+

+ “Come and drink,” he said, in his husky voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked at him inquiringly. +

+

+ The man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up to a + certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had been tapped + and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth to the aperture, + sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its mother’s breast. + Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his eyes growing brighter. +

+

+ When his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree somewhat + like coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a new sort of + intoxication, however, for neither his will not his emotions were excited, + but only his intellect—and that only in a certain way. His thoughts + and images were not freed and loosened, but on the contrary kept labouring + and swelling painfully, until they reached the full beauty of an apergu, + which would then flame up in his consciousness, burst, and vanish. After + that, the whole process started over again. But there was never a moment + when he was not perfectly cool, and master of his senses. When each had + drunk twice, Polecrab replugged the hole, and they returned to their bank. +

+

+ “Is it Blodsombre yet?” asked Maskull, sprawling on the + ground, well content. +

+

+ Polecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in the + water. “Just beginning,” was his hoarse response. +

+

+ “Then I must stay here till it’s over.... Shall we talk?” +

+

+ “We can,” said the other, without enthusiasm. +

+

+ Maskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were + exactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a wise + light. +

+

+ “Have you travelled much, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “Not what you would call travelling.” +

+

+ “You tell me you’ve been to Matterplay—what kind of + country is that?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. I went there to pick up flints.” +

+

+ “What countries lie beyond it?” +

+

+ “Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it’s a land of + mystics... I don’t know.” +

+

+ “Mystics?” +

+

+ “So I’m told.... Still farther north there’s Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Now we’re going far afield.” +

+

+ “There are mountains there—and altogether it must be a very + dangerous place, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take care of + yourself.” +

+

+ “This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I’m going + there?” +

+

+ “As you’ve come from the south, I suppose you’ll go + north.” +

+

+ “Well, that’s right enough,” said Maskull, staring hard + at him. “But how do you know I’ve come from the south?” +

+

+ “Well, then, perhaps you haven’t—but there’s a + look of Ifdawn about you.” +

+

+ “What kind of look?” +

+

+ “A tragical look,” said Polecrab. He never even glanced at + Maskull, but was gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes. +

+

+ “What lies beyond Lichstorm?” asked Maskull, after a minute or + two. +

+

+ “Barey, where you have two suns instead of one—but beyond that + fact I know nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean.” +

+

+ “And what’s on the other side of the ocean?” +

+

+ “That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has + ever crossed it and come back.” +

+

+ Maskull was silent for a little while. +

+

+ “How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the + only one travelling from curiosity.” +

+

+ “What do you mean by ‘your people’?” +

+

+ “True—you don’t know that I don’t belong to your + planet at all. I’ve come from another world, Polecrab.” +

+

+ “What to find?” +

+

+ “I came here with Krag and Nightspore—to follow Surtur. I must + have fainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the + others had vanished. Since then I’ve been travelling at random.” +

+

+ Polecrab scratched his nose. “You haven’t found Surtur yet?” +

+

+ “I’ve heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this + morning I came quite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, + I saw a vision—a being in man’s shape, who called himself + Surtur.” +

+

+ “Well, maybe it was Surtur.” +

+

+ “No, that’s impossible,” replied Maskull reflectively. + “It was Crystalman. And it isn’t a question of my suspecting + it—I know it.” +

+

+ “How?” +

+

+ “Because this is Crystalman’s world, and Surtur’s world + is something quite different.” +

+

+ “That’s queer, then,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ “Since I’ve come out of that forest,” proceeded Maskull, + talking half to himself, “a change has come over me, and I see + things differently. Everything here looks much more solid and real in my + eyes than in other places so much so that I can’t entertain the + least doubt of its existence. It not only looks real, it is + real—and on that I would stake my life.... But at the same time that + it’s real, it is false.” +

+

+ “Like a dream?” +

+

+ “No—not at all like a dream, and that’s just what I want + to explain. This world of yours—and perhaps of mine too, for that + matter—doesn’t give me the slightest impression of a dream, or + an illusion, or anything of that sort. I know it’s really here at + this moment, and it’s exactly as we’re seeing it, you and I. + Yet it’s false. It’s false in this sense, Polecrab. Side by + side with it another world exists, and that other world is the true one, + and this one is all false and deceitful, to the very core. And so it + occurs to me that reality and falseness are two words for the same thing.” +

+

+ “Perhaps there is such another world,” said Polecrab huskily. + “But did that vision also seem real and false to you?” +

+

+ “Very real, but not false then, for then I didn’t understand + all this. But just because it was real, it couldn’t have been + Surtur, who has no connection with reality.” +

+

+ “Didn’t those drum taps sound real to you?” +

+

+ “I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. + Still, they were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. + If I didn’t hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his.” +

+

+ Polecrab growled a little. “If Surtur chooses to speak to you in + that fashion, it appears he’s trying to say something.” +

+

+ “What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what’s your opinion—is + he calling me to the life after death?” +

+

+ The old man stirred uneasily. “I’m a fisherman,” he + said, after a minute or two. “I live by killing, and so does + everybody. This life seems to me all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is + wrong, and Surtur’s world is not life at all, but something else.” +

+

+ “Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?” +

+

+ “Ask the dead,” said Polecrab, “and not a living man.” +

+

+ Maskull continued. “In the forest I heard music and saw a light, + which could not have belonged to this world. They were too strong for my + senses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a vision as + well, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked on toward the + light, alone.” +

+

+ Polecrab uttered his grunt. “You have enough to think over.” +

+

+ A short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull. +

+

+ “So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it + may come to my putting an end to myself.” The fisherman remained + quiet and immobile. +

+

+ Maskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared at + him. “What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, while + in the body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I have done?” +

+

+ “I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can’t say. Perhaps there + are many others like you who would gladly know.” +

+

+ “Where? I should like to meet them.” +

+

+ “Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of + another stuff?” +

+

+ “I can’t be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out + toward Muspel, in most cases without being aware of it.” +

+

+ “In the wrong direction,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ Maskull gave him a strange look. “How so?” +

+

+ “I don’t speak from my own wisdom,” said Polecrab, + “for I have none; but I have just now recalled what Broodviol once + told me, when I was a young man, and he was an old one. He said that + Crystalman tries to turn all things into one, and that whichever way his + shapes march, in order to escape from him, they find themselves again face + to face with Crystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this + marching of shapes (which we call ‘forking’) springs from the + unconscious desire to find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction to the + right one. For Surtur’s world does not lie on this side of the one, + which was the beginning of life, but on the other side; and to get to it + we must repass through the one. But this can only be by renouncing our + self-life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of Crystalman’s + world. And when this has been done, it is only the first stage of the + journey; though many good men imagine it to be the whole journey.... As + far as I can remember, that is what Broodviol said, but perhaps, as I was + then a young and ignorant man, I may have left out words which would + explain his meaning better.” +

+

+ Maskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained thoughtful at + the end. +

+

+ “It’s plain enough,” he said. “But what did he + mean by our reuniting ourselves to Crystalman’s world? If it is + false, are we to make ourselves false as well?” +

+

+ “I didn’t ask him that question, and you are as well qualified + to answer it as I am.” +

+

+ “He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a + false, private world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and + distorted perceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly lose + nothing in truth and reality.” +

+

+ Polecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and stretched + his limbs. +

+

+ “I have told you all I know,” he said in a surly voice. + “Now let me go to sleep.” +

+

+ Maskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man let + himself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest. +

+

+ While he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall + sounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest. + Maskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at once + guessed that it was Polecrab’s wife. He sat up, but the fisherman + did not stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, looking down from + what appeared a great height. +

+

+ Her dress was similar to her husband’s, but covered her limbs more. + She was young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was lightly + tanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. Refinement was + stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of expression for a + woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great eyes kept flashing and + glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow hair, coiled up and + fastened, but so carelessly that some of the strands were flowing down her + back. +

+

+ When she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and + shades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far away + from it. +

+

+ “Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation,” she + said, addressing Maskull. “I was resting behind the tree, and heard + it all.” +

+

+ He got up slowly. “Are you Polecrab’s wife?” +

+

+ “She is my wife,” said Polecrab, “and her name is + Gleameil. Sit down again, stranger—and you too, wife, since you are + here.” +

+

+ They both obeyed. “I heard everything,” repeated Gleameil. + “But what I did not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after + you have left us.” +

+

+ “I know no more than you do.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. There’s only one place for you to go to, and + that is Swaylone’s Island. I will ferry you across myself before + sunset.” +

+

+ “What shall I find there?” +

+

+ “He may go, wife,” put in the old man hoarsely, “but I + won’t allow you to go. I will take him over myself.” +

+

+ “No, you have always put me off,” said Gleameil, with some + emotion. “This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and + I sit on the shore here, listening to Earthrid’s music travelling + faintly across the sea, I am tortured—I can’t endure it.... I + have long since made up my mind to go to the island, and see what this + music is. If it’s bad, if it kills me—well.” +

+

+ “What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I think the music will answer all your questions better than + Polecrab has done—and possibly in a way that will surprise you.” +

+

+ “What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the + sea?” +

+

+ “A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the + man that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up + the most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.” +

+

+ “That may be so,” growled Polecrab. “But I have been to + the island by daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and + ancient. Those are Earthrid’s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.” +

+

+ “But will that music play tonight?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. “When + Teargeld rises, which is our moon.” +

+

+ “If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death + is due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as + for taking you with me, Gleameil—women die too easily in Tormance. I + have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another + woman.” +

+

+ Gleameil laughed, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Now go to sleep,” said Polecrab. “When the time comes, + I will take you across myself.” +

+

+ He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example; but + Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her. +

+

+ “Who was that other woman, Maskull?” she asked presently. +

+

+ He did not answer, but pretended to sleep. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late + afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another meal + of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him. +

+

+ “Is it decided who is to go with me?” he asked, before sitting + down. +

+

+ “I go,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ “Do you agree, Polecrab?” +

+

+ The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others to + take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering. +

+

+ “Something strong is attracting her, and I can’t hold her + back. I don’t think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are + now nearly old enough to fend for themselves.” +

+

+ “Don’t take dejected views,” replied Gleameil sternly. + She was not eating. “I shall come back, and make amends to you. It’s + only for a night.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. “Let me go alone. + I would be sorry if anything happened.” +

+

+ Gleameil shook her head. +

+

+ “Don’t regard this as a woman’s caprice,” she + said. “Even if you hadn’t passed this way, I would have heard + that music soon. I have a hunger for it.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you any such feeling, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are + attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she + is set on it. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps Earthrid’s music will + answer your questions, and hers too.” +

+

+ “What are your questions, Gleameil?” +

+

+ The woman shed a strange smile. “You may be sure that a question + which requires music for an answer can’t be put into words.” +

+

+ “If you are not back by the morning,” remarked her husband, + “I will know you are dead.” +

+

+ The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his mouth, + and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket. +

+

+ “Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?” She + considered a moment. +

+

+ “Yes—yes, I must see them.” +

+

+ He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed + through the air. +

+

+ A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the boys + were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity at the + first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was carrying the + youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance behind. The + child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in front of + Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked + on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with proudly raised head + and a baffling expression. +

+

+ Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, + respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest + was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked, and + his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. His facial muscles indicated + a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires. The second + showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was large and + heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes were almost + too sombre and penetrating for a child’s. +

+

+ “That one,” said Polecrab, pinching the boy’s ear, + “may perhaps grow up to be a second Broodviol.” +

+

+ “Who was that?” demanded the boy, bending his head forward to + hear the answer. +

+

+ “A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up + his mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.” +

+

+ “If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about + him.” +

+

+ “That would not have mattered,” replied the father. +

+

+ The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face was + mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity about it, + that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would wrinkle up + and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a tawny gold, + seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of his age. +

+

+ “He puzzles me,” said Polecrab. “He has a soul like sap, + and he’s interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most + remarkable of the bunch.” +

+

+ Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. He + took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never changed + countenance. +

+

+ “What do you make of him?” asked the fisherman. +

+

+ “It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. + Let me drink again, and then I shall have it.” +

+

+ “Go and drink, then.” +

+

+ Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. “In ages to + come,” he said, speaking deliberately, “he will be a grand and + awful tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well.” +

+

+ The eldest boy looked scornful. “I want to be none of those things. + I would like to be like that big fellow.” And he pointed his finger + at Maskull. +

+

+ He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. “Thanks + for the compliments old warrior!” he said. +

+

+ “He’s great and brawny,” continued the boy, “and + can hold his own with other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you + did that child?” +

+

+ Maskull complied. +

+

+ “That is being a man!” exclaimed the boy. “Enough!” + said Polecrab impatiently. “I called you lads here to say goodbye to + your mother. She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, + but we don’t know.” +

+

+ The second boy’s face became suddenly inflamed. “Is she going + of her own choice?” he inquired. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied the father. +

+

+ “Then she is bad.” He brought the words out with such force + and emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip. +

+

+ The old man cuffed him twice. “Is it your mother you are speaking + of?” +

+

+ The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said nothing. +

+

+ The youngest child spoke, for the first time. “My mother will not + come back, but she will die dancing.” +

+

+ Polecrab and his wife looked at one another. +

+

+ “Where are you going to, Mother?” asked the eldest lad. +

+

+ Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. “To the Island.” +

+

+ “Well then, if you don’t come back by tomorrow morning, I will + go and look for you.” +

+

+ Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. “This seems to me to + be a man’s journey,” he said. “I think it would be + better for you not to come, Gleameil.” +

+

+ “I am not to be dissuaded,” she replied. +

+

+ He stroked his beard in perplexity. “Is it time to start?” +

+

+ “It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “I’ll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait + there for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, + Gleameil.” +

+

+ He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. “Adieu, fisherman!” +

+

+ “You have repaid me well for my answers,” said the old man + gruffly. “But it’s not your fault, and in Shaping’s + world the worst things happen.” +

+

+ The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. “Farewell, + big man!” he said. “But guard my mother well, as well as you + are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you.” +

+

+ Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The + glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes + again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far + as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled on + to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of Alppain + had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating wind, + listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea with its + pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone’s Island. +

+

+ “What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all + she loves the most?” he meditated. “It sounds unholy. Will it + tell me what I want to know? Can it?” +

+

+ In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning + his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. + Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed + by Maskull, without looking at him, or making any salutation, and + proceeded out to sea. +

+

+ While he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the boys + came in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest-born was + holding her hand, and talking; and the other two were behind. She was calm + and smiling, but seemed abstracted. +

+

+ “What is your husband doing with the raft?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He’s putting it in position and we shall wade out and join + it,” she answered, in her low-toned voice. +

+

+ “But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?” +

+

+ “Don’t you see that current running away from land? See, he is + approaching it. That will take us straight there.” +

+

+ “But how can you get back?” +

+

+ “There is a way; but we need not think of that today.” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I come too?” demanded the eldest boy. +

+

+ “Because the raft won’t carry three. Maskull is a heavy man.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said the boy. “I know where + there is wood for another raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to + work.” +

+

+ Polecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position he + desired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point made a + sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his wife and + Maskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and broke down a + little. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and tears glistened in + his eyes; but the younger children stared wide-eyed, and displayed no + emotion. +

+

+ Gleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water covered + first their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as high as their + waists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let himself down into the + water, and assisted his wife to climb over the side. When she was up, she + bent down and kissed him. No words were exchanged. Maskull scrambled up on + to the front part of the raft. The woman sat cross-legged in the stern, + and seized the pole. +

+

+ Polecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her pole + until they had got within its power. The raft immediately began to travel + swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion. +

+

+ The boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull turned his + back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was wading back to the + shore. +

+

+ For upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. No + sound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around them, + and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its way smoothly + through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway of safety, the + beautiful dangers surrounding them were an exhilarating experience. The + air was fresh and clean, and the heat from Branchspell, now low in the + west, was at last endurable. The riot of sea colors had long since + banished all sadness and anxiety from his heart. Yet he felt such a grudge + against the woman for selfishly forsaking those who should have been dear + to her that he could not bring himself to begin a conversation. +

+

+ But when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught sight + of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon-pink in the + evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the silence by inquiring + what they were. +

+

+ “It is Lichstorm,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ Maskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her, his + eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he continued + to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles, and now he could + better estimate the enormous height of the trees. Overtopping them, far + away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not quite sure, that he could + distinguish Disscourn as well. +

+

+ “Now that we are alone in a strange place,” said Gleameil, + averting her head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the + water, “tell me what you thought of Polecrab.” +

+

+ Maskull paused before answering. “He seemed to me like a mountain + wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all. But + then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of more + mountain—and even then it is not the top.” +

+

+ “You read character well, and have great perception,” remarked + Gleameil quietly. “Now say what I am.” +

+

+ “In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that’s + all I know about you.” +

+

+ “What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?” +

+

+ “You heard.” +

+

+ “Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and + boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world + for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear + all false and vulgar.” +

+

+ “Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to + satisfy our self-nature at the expense of other people?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other + world these words have no meaning.” +

+

+ There was a silence. +

+

+ “It’s useless to discuss such topics,” said Maskull. + “The choice is now out of our hands, and we must go where we are + taken. What I would rather speak about is what awaits us on the island.” +

+

+ “I am ignorant—except that we shall find Earthrid there.” +

+

+ “Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone’s Island?” +

+

+ “They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about + him. As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.” +

+

+ “If you please,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “In a far-back age,” began Gleameil, “when the seas were + hot, and clouds hung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with + transformations, Swaylone came to this island, on which men had never + before set foot, and began to play his music—the first music in + Tormance. Nightly, when the moon shone, people used to gather on this + shore behind us, and listen to the faint, sweet strains floating from over + the sea. One night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was passing this + way in company with Krag. They listened a while to the music, and Shaping + said ‘Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This is my world and my + music.’ Krag stamped with his foot, and laughed. ‘You must do + better than that, if I am to admire it. Let us pass over, and see this + bungler at work.’ Shaping consented, and they passed over to the + island. Swaylone was not able to see their presence. Shaping stood behind + him, and breathed thoughts into his soul, so that his music became ten + times lovelier, and people listening on that shore went mad with sick + delight. ‘Can any strains be nobler?’ demanded Shaping. Krag + grinned and said, ‘You are naturally effeminate. Now let me try.’ + Then he stood behind Swaylone, and shot ugly discords fast into his head. + His instrument was so cracked, that never since has it played right. From + that time forth Swaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called + to folk more than the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island + during his lifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could endure + them; all died. After Swaylone’s death, another musician took up the + tale; and so the light has passed down from torch to torch, till now + Earthrid bears it.” +

+

+ “An interesting legend,” commented Maskull. “But who is + Krag?” +

+

+ “They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it—a + spirit compounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not know + how to transform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the world, for he + dogs Shaping’s footsteps everywhere, and whatever the latter does, + he undoes. To love he joins death; to sex, shame; to intellect, madness; + to virtue, cruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody entrails. These are Krag’s + actions, so the lovers of the world call him ‘devil.’ They don’t + understand, Maskull, that without him the world would lose its beauty.” +

+

+ “Krag and beauty!” exclaimed he, with a cynical smile. +

+

+ “Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to + discover. That beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, children, + and happiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?” +

+

+ “Surely.” +

+

+ “That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see + beauty in its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from it.” +

+

+ “Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far + from my mind.” +

+

+ She did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes, to + hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more. There + was no more talk until they reached the island. +

+

+ The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores. + Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared to + be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all broad + sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness of + insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The current + bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a sharp + angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land. +

+

+ Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed + her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the + current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the + way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set. +

+

+ Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a single + glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed her. The + cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and easy, while + the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon. +

+

+ A little way off, on their left, something white was shining. +

+

+ “You need not go to it,” said the woman. “It can be + nothing else than one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look—there + is another one over there!” +

+

+ “This brings it home!” remarked Maskull, smiling. +

+

+ “There is nothing comical in having died for beauty,” said + Gleameil, bending her brows at him. +

+

+ And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones, + from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it were + a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell into a + sombre mood. +

+

+ It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set eyes + on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way + different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were + fast becoming invisible. +

+

+ “That is Matterplay,” said the woman, pointing her finger + toward some low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off + than Wombflash. +

+

+ “I wonder how Digrung passed over,” meditated Maskull. +

+

+ Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they saw a + small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The sunset + colors of the sky were reflected in its waters. +

+

+ “That must be Irontick,” remarked Gleameil. +

+

+ “What is that?” +

+

+ “I have heard that it’s the instrument Earthrid plays on.” +

+

+ “We are getting close,” responded he. “Let us go and + investigate.” +

+

+ When they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the + farther side, in an attitude of sleep. +

+

+ “If that’s not the man himself, who can it be?” said + Maskull. “Let’s get across the water, if it will bear us; it + will save time.” +

+

+ He now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope which + bounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with greater dignity, + keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if fascinated. When Maskull + reached the water’s edge, he tried it with one foot, to discover if + it would carry his weight. Something unusual in its appearance led him to + have doubts. It was a tranquil, dark, and beautifully reflecting sheet of + water; it resembled a mirror of liquid metal. Finding that it would bear + him, and that nothing happened, he placed his second foot on its surface. + Instantly he sustained a violent shock throughout his body, as from a + powerful electric current; and he was hurled in a tumbled heap back on to + the bank. +

+

+ He picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started walking + around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the half circuit + together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him with his foot. He + woke up, and blinked at them. +

+

+ His face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable + expression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and head. On + his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a perfectly circular + organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. He had an unpleasant + smell. He appeared to be of young middle age. +

+

+ “Wake up, man,” said Maskull sharply, “and tell us if + you are Earthrid.” +

+

+ “What time is it?” counterquestioned the man. “Does it + want long to moonrise?” +

+

+ Without appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning away + from them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and to eat it + halfheartedly. +

+

+ “Now, how can you eat that filth?” demanded Maskull, in + disgust. +

+

+ “Don’t be angry, Maskull,” said Gleameil, laying hold of + his arm, and flushing a little. “It is Earthrid—the man who is + to help us.” +

+

+ “He has not said so.” +

+

+ “I am Earthrid,” said the other, in his weak and muffled + voice, which, however, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. + “What do you want here? Or rather, you had better get away as + quickly as you can, for it will be too late when Teargeld rises.” +

+

+ “You need not explain,” exclaimed Maskull. “We know your + reputation, and we have come to hear your music. But what’s that + organ for on your forehead?” +

+

+ Earthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again. +

+

+ “That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don’t + stand and argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the island + with corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else.” +

+

+ Darkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape. +

+

+ “You are rather bigmouthed,” said Maskull coolly. “But + after we have heard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself.” +

+

+ “You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?” +

+

+ A flame danced in Gleameil’s eyes. +

+

+ “Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument,” she said in + her intense way. “But it is in the soul of the Master.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Earthrid, “but that is not all. I will tell + you what it is. In Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the + mystery of the Three in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, + has three directions. Length is the line which shuts off what is, from + what is not. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what manner one + thing of what-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the path which leads + from what-is, to our own body. In music it is not otherwise. Tone is + existence, without which nothing at all can be. Symmetry and Numbers are + the manner in which tones exist, one with another. Emotion is the movement + of our soul toward the wonderful world that is being created. Now, men + when they make music are accustomed to build beautiful tones, because of + the delight they cause. Therefore their music world is based on pleasure; + its symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet and lovely.... + But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its symmetry is wild, + and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and terrible.” +

+

+ “If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come + here,” said Maskull. “Still, explain—why can’t + harsh tones have simple symmetry of form? And why must they necessarily + cause more profound emotions in us who listen?” +

+

+ “Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of + their clashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, which is + rough and earnest.” +

+

+ “You may call it music,” remarked Maskull thoughtfully, + “but to me it bears a closer resemblance to actual life.” +

+

+ “If Shaping’s plans had gone straight, life would have been + like that other sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that + intention in the world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life + resembles my music and mine is the true music.” +

+

+ “Shall we see living shapes?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what my mood will be,” returned Earthrid. + “But when I have finished, you shall adventure your tune, and + produce whatever shapes you please—unless, indeed, the tune is out + of your own big body.” +

+

+ “The shocks you are preparing may kill us,” said Gleameil, in + a low, taut voice, “but we shall die, seeing beauty.” +

+

+ Earthrid looked at her with a dignified expression. +

+

+ “Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I + put into my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed a woman + to call it ‘beauty.’ But if this is beauty, what is ugliness?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you, Master,” replied Gleameil, smiling at + him. “Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues + fresh from the womb of nature.” +

+

+ Earthrid stared at her, without response. “Teargeld is rising,” + he said at last. “And now you shall see—though not for long.” +

+

+ As the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in the + dark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was wholly up. + It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. Its shadowy parts + stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it did not give Maskull + the impression of being a dead world. Branchspell shone on the whole of + it, but Alppain only on a part. The broad crescent that reflected + Branchspell’s rays alone was white and brilliant; but the part that + was illuminated by both suns shone with a greenish radiance that had + almost solar power, and yet was cold and cheerless. On gazing at that + combined light, he felt the same sense of disintegration that the + afterglow of Alppain had always caused in him; but now the feeling was not + physical, but merely aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to him, + but disturbing and mystical. +

+

+ Earthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright moonlight, + his face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its loose, weak, + disagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty grandeur. He clapped his + hands together meditatively two or three times, and walked up and down. + The others stood together, watching him. +

+

+ Then he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side, placed + his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same time + stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact with the + water. +

+

+ While Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he felt a + stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had been pierced + by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, and as he did so he + saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was now subsiding again. The + next moment he was knocked down by a violent blow in the mouth, delivered + by an invisible hand. He picked himself up; and observed that a second + spout had formed. No sooner was he on his legs, than a hideous pain + hammered away inside his brain, as if caused by a malignant tumour. In his + agony, he stumbled and fell again; this time on the arm Krag had wounded. + All his other mishaps were forgotten in this one, which half stunned him. + It lasted only a moment, and then sudden relief came, and he found that + Earthrid’s rough music had lost its power over him. +

+

+ He saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming thick + and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But Gleameil was + not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a heap, without moving. + Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was dead. When he reached + her, he discovered that she was dead. In what state of mind she had died, + he did not know, for her face wore the vulgar Crystalman grin. The whole + tragedy had not lasted five minutes. +

+

+ He went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his playing. +

+

+ “You have been as good as your word, musician,” he said. + “Gleameil is dead.” +

+

+ Earthrid tried to collect his scattered senses. +

+

+ “I warned her,” he replied, sitting up. “Did I not beg + her to go away? But she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty + she spoke about. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the rhythm. + Neither have you.” +

+

+ Maskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing. +

+

+ “You should not have interrupted me,” went on Earthrid. + “When I am playing, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost + the thread of my ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over + again.” +

+

+ “If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next.” +

+

+ The man glanced up quickly. +

+

+ “That can’t be.” +

+

+ “It must be,” said Maskull decisively. “I prefer playing + to listening. Another reason is that you will have every night, but I have + only tonight.” +

+

+ Earthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. “With + your recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick belongs to me, + and until you have learned how to play, you would only break the + instrument.” +

+

+ “Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try.” +

+

+ The musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. “Do you intend + to take it from me by violence?” +

+

+ “Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I + shall give you time to go away somewhere.” +

+

+ “How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don’t + understand what you are doing.” +

+

+ “Go, or stay!” responded Maskull. “I give you till the + water gets smooth again. After that, I begin playing.” +

+

+ Earthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to Maskull. +

+

+ “Do you swear it?” +

+

+ “How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you + are safe.” +

+

+ Earthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and then + moved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up he glanced + over his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was happening. In + another minute or so, he had disappeared over the crest, travelling in the + direction of the shore that faced Matterplay. +

+

+ Later, when the water was once more tranquil, Maskull sat down by its + edge, in imitation of Earthrid’s attitude. He knew neither how to + set about producing his music, nor what would come of it. But audacious + projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes—and, + above all, one shape, that of Surtur. +

+

+ Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in + his mind. +

+

+ He said, “What themes are in common music, shapes are + in this music. The composer does not find his theme by picking out single + notes; but the whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it + must be with shapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the + undivided ideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and then, + reflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the first time + made acquainted with them. So it must be.” +

+

+ The instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing from + him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of flowing created a + sensation of joyful mastery. With this was curiosity to learn what they + would prove to be. Spouts formed on the lake in increasing numbers, but he + experienced no pain. His thoughts, which he knew to be music, did not + issue from him in a steady, unbroken stream, but in great, rough gushes, + succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these gushes came, the whole lake + broke out in an eruption of spouts. +

+

+ He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his + intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will. He + could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to force + them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition. +

+

+ At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a + strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased so + imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the + Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not give + it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and sacred + awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The spouts thickened + like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high. Teargeld looked + faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast no shadows. The + wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm. Shortly afterward + it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He saw no shapes, and + redoubled his efforts. +

+

+ His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole + soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not know + their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills began + to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from their + bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the landscape had + altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon disappeared + entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying, but Maskull + played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would take shape. The + hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping from the tops of the + spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was dry. +

+

+ The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that it + was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was + becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He + strained and strained.... +

+

+ Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell + through, and his instrument was broken. +

+

+ The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could not + see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in total + blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a dead silence. His + thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his foot no longer touched + water, but hung in space. +

+

+ He was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or + feel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in the + newly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its descent had met + fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many yards high, and came down + heavily. He lost consciousness.... +

+

+ When he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was gleaming + brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but it was now a + crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not penetrate. The hills + encircling it were torn, as if by heavy gunfire. A few thunderclouds were + floating in the air at no great height, from which branched lightning + descended to the earth incessantly, accompanied by alarming and singular + crashes. +

+

+ He got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was uninjured, + he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and then started to + walk painfully toward the northern shore. +

+

+ When he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped gently + down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through traces of his + rough work. The country was carved into scarps, grooves, channels, and + craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs overlooking the beach, and + found that these also were partly broken down by landslips. He got down + onto the sand and stood looking over the moonlit, agitated sea, wondering + how he could contrive to escape from this island of failure. +

+

+ Then he saw Earthrid’s body, lying quite close to him. It was on its + back. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see them + anywhere. Earthrid’s teeth were buried in the flesh of his right + forearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning physical agony. + The skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was stained by darker + discolourations, which were wounds. The sand about him was dyed by the + pool of blood which had long since filtered through. +

+

+ Maskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the + sweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for daybreak. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow straight + toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day, he saw a + great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty feet out of + the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must have been enormously + deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, through the heavy seas. + Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few minutes. Then it dawned on him that + it might be a good thing to investigate its nature. Without stopping to + weigh the danger, he immediately swam out, caught hold of the lowest + branch, and swung himself up. +

+

+ He looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top, + terminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made his + way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were covered + with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at the crown, + he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there were membranes + like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting some form of low + intelligence. +

+

+ At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore, + and began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his hand out, + and, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the membranes. The tree + sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was steady again, + Maskull removed his hand; they at once drifted back to shore. He thought a + bit, and then started experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was as + he had guessed—these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon, + and whichever way the light came from, the tree would travel. +

+

+ A rather defiant smile crossed Maskull’s face as it struck him that + it might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as + Matterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into execution. + Tearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up all the membranes + except the ones that faced the north. The tree instantly left the island, + and definitely put out to sea. It travelled due north. It was not moving + at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay was possibly forty + miles distant. +

+

+ The great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the + breaking seas hissed through the lower branches—Maskull rested high + and dry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow rate of + progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward the + north-west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to juggle + with the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in piloting his + tree into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were fairly in its + rapids, he blinded the crown entirely, and thenceforward the current acted + in the double capacity of road and steed. +

+

+ Maskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the remainder + of the night. +

+

+ When his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld was + setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with the + colours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the light over + the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land—probably + Matterplay—lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, perhaps a + mile away. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but began to skirt + the coast without drawing any closer to it. As soon as Maskull realised + the fact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its channel and started drifting + it inshore. The eastern sky blazed up suddenly with violent dyes, and the + outer rim of Branchspell lifted itself above the sea. The moon had already + sunk. +

+

+ The shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was like + Swaylone’s Island—the same wide sands, small cliffs, and + rounded, insignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the + early-morning sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed + and morose, cared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, + clambered swiftly down through the branches and dropped into the sea. By + the time he had swam ashore, the white, stupendous sun was high above the + horizon. +

+

+ He walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable distance, + without having any special intention in his mind. He thought he would go + on until he came to some creek or valley, and then turn up it. The sun’s + rays were cheering, and began to relieve him of his oppressive night + weight. After strolling along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped + by a broad stream that flowed into the sea out of a kind of natural + gateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid green, + all filled with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did it look + that he flung himself face downward on the ground and took a prolonged + draught. When he got up again his eyes started to play pranks—they + became alternately blurred and clear.... It may have been pure + imagination, but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him. +

+

+ He followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and then + for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared, like a + jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare and lifeless, + but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely fertile; he had + never seen such fertility. It wound up among the hills, and all that he + was looking at was its broad lower end. The floor of the valley was about + half a mile wide; the stream that ran down its middle was nearly a hundred + feet across, but was exceedingly shallow—in most places not more + than a few inches deep. The sides of the valley were about seventy feet + high, but very sloping; they were clothed from top to bottom with little, + bright-leaved trees—not of varied tints of one colour, like Earth + trees, but of widely diverse colours, most of which were brilliant and + positive. +

+

+ The floor itself was like a magician’s garden. Densely interwoven + trees, shrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for possession + of it. The forms were strange and grotesque, and each one seemed + different; the colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and stem were + equally peculiar—all the different combinations of the five primary + colours of Tormance seemed to be represented, and the result, for Maskull + was a sort of eye chaos. So rank was the vegetation that he could not + fight his way through it; he was obliged to take to the riverbed. The + contact of the water created an odd tingling sensation throughout his + body, like a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a few + extraordinary-looking winged reptiles of small size kept crossing the + valley from hill to hill. Swarms of flying insects clustered around him, + threatening mischief, but in the end it turned out that his blood was + disagreeable to them, for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling + creatures resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in + myriads on the banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use + their weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into + the water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a + hideous monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape—if + it resembled anything—a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. + They stared at one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with cool + and wary ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened to him. +

+

+ His eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring passed + away and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in character. He + was looking right through the animal’s body and could distinguish + all its interior parts. The outer crust, however, and all the hard tissues + were misty and semi-transparent; through them a luminous network of + blood-red veins and arteries stood out in startling distinctness. The hard + parts faded away to nothingness, and the blood system alone was left. Not + even the fleshy ducts remained. The naked blood alone was visible, flowing + this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the shape of the + monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a continuous + liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a million + individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by the rapid + motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled minute suns + in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a double drift of + stars, streaming through space. One drift was travelling toward a fixed + point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it. He + recognised the former as the veins of the beast, the latter as the + arteries, and the fixed point as the heart. +

+

+ While he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network went out + suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean had stood, there + was nothing. Yet through this “nothing” he could not see the + landscape. Something was standing there that intercepted the light, though + it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. And now the object, + which could no longer be perceived by vision, began to be felt by emotion. + A delightful, springlike sense of rising sap, of quickening pulses of + love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity—took possession of his + being, and, strangely enough, he identified it with the monster. Why that + invisible brute should cause him to feel young, sexual, and audacious, he + did not ask himself, for he was fully occupied with the effect. But it was + as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and he were face to face + with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into his own body. +

+

+ The sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the + streaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed to the + red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with more and + more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew fainter. + Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed by the crust—the + creature stood opposite Maskull in its old formidable ugliness, hard, + painted, and concrete. +

+

+ Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and stumbled + awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive movements, + toward the other bank of the stream. +

+

+ Maskull’s apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and + thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through + Digrung’s eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately + ahead. The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down with his + will, and nothing happened. +

+

+ The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed + considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and + higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was deeper—it + was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric sensations caused + by its water became more pronounced, almost disagreeably so; but there was + nowhere else to walk. With its deafening confusion of sounds from the + multitude of living creatures, the little valley resembled a vast + conversation hall of Nature. The life was still more prolific than before; + every square foot of space was a tangle of struggling wills, both animal + and vegetable. For a naturalist it would have been paradise, for no two + shapes were alike, and all were fantastic, with individual character. +

+

+ It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that there + was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on Earth, where + a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be sown. Here the + young forms seemed to survive, while, to find accommodation for them, the + old ones perished; everywhere he looked they were withering and dying, + without any ostensible cause—they were simply being killed by new + life. +

+

+ Other creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that they + became of different “kingdoms” altogether. For example, a + fruit was lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with + a tougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; but + inside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of bursting its + shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back toward him; by the + time he was even with it, its downward motion had stopped and it was + swimming against the current. He fished it out and discovered that it had + sprouted six rudimentary legs. +

+

+ Maskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously overcrowded + valley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and depressed. He thought + that the unseen power—whether it was called Nature, Life, Will, or + God—that was so frantic to rush forward and occupy this small, + vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was not + worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical + existence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important + business was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he longed + for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the ravine, he + began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up from tree to + tree. +

+

+ When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such brutal, + white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He looked + around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He had + travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare, + undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in + the distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone’s + Island. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he + could see. Over the crest—that is to say, some miles away—a + line of black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed + themselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against the sky, + perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of Lichstorm, + most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the sunlight. +

+

+ They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were + conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced + themselves at what looked like impossible angles—overhanging without + apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought: + extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there, + and to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get + there before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted + him than the country which lay beyond—the prospect of setting eyes + on the blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance. +

+

+ The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question, + because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed, however, + that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and decided to keep + to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared it. Into the + hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself. +

+

+ Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for several + miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly difficult. + The cliffs closed in on either side until they were less than a hundred + yards apart, while the bed of the ravine was blocked by boulders, great + and small, so that the little stream, which was now diminished to the + proportions of a brook, had to come down where and how it could. The forms + of life grew stranger. Pure plants and pure animals disappeared by + degrees, and their place was filled by singular creatures that seemed to + partake of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will, and intelligence, + but they remained for the greater part of their time rooted in the ground + by preference, and they fed only on soil and air. Maskull saw no sexual + organs and failed to understand how the young came into existence. +

+

+ Then he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed + plant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. He + could not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long time in + amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before him, as thought + it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull resumed his + striding from rock to rock up the gorge, and then, quietly and without + warning, the same phenomenon occurred again. No longer could he doubt that + he was seeing miracles—that Nature was precipitating its shapes into + the world without making use of the medium of parentage.... No solution of + the problem presented itself. +

+

+ The brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up from + its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the air. He had + not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its quality. He + felt new life entering his body, from his feet upward; it resembled a + slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. The sensation was quite new + in his experience, yet he knew by instinct what it was. The energy emitted + by the brook was ascending his body neither as friend nor foe but simply + because it happened to be the direct road to its objective elsewhere. But, + although it had no hostile intentions, it was likely to prove a rough + traveller—he was clearly conscious that its passage through his body + threatened to bring about some physical transformation, unless he could do + something to prevent it. Leaping quickly out of the water, he leaned + against a rock, tightened his muscles, and braced himself against the + impending change. At that very moment the blurring again attacked his + sight, and, while he was guarding against that, his forehead sprouted out + into a galaxy of new eyes. He put his hand up and counted six, in addition + to his old ones. +

+

+ The danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on having + got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were for—whether + they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a dozen steps up the + ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the act of jumping down from + the top of a boulder, his vision altered and he came to an automatic + standstill. He was perceiving two worlds simultaneously. With his own eyes + he saw the gorge as before, with its rocks, brook, plant-animals, + sunshine, and shadows. But with his acquired eyes he saw differently. All + the details of the valley were visible, but the light seemed turned down, + and everything appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured. The sun was obscured + by masses of cloud which filled the whole sky. This vapour was in violent + and almost living motion. It was thick in extension, but thin in texture; + some parts, however, were far denser than others, as the particles were + crushed together or swept apart by the motion. The green sparks from the + brook, when closely watched, could be distinguished individually, each one + wavering up toward the clouds, but the moment they got within them a + fearful struggle seemed to begin. The spark endeavoured to escape through + to the upper air, while the clouds concentrated around it whichever way it + darted, trying to create so dense a prison that further movement would be + impossible. As far as Maskull could detect, most of the sparks succeeded + eventually in finding their way out after frantic efforts; but one that he + was looking at was caught, and what happened was this. A complete ring of + cloud surrounded it, and, in spite of its furious leaps and flashes in all + directions—as if it were a live, savage creature caught in a net—nowhere + could it find an opening, but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with + it, wherever it went. The vapours continued to thicken around it, until + they resembled the black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a bad + thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the + interior, ceased its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent. The + cloud shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly spherical; as + it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend toward the + valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its lower end + only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether and there + was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like a stab of + forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became small, indented, + and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on legs and + rooting up the ground in search of food. The concluding stage of the + phenomenon he witnessed with his normal eyesight. It showed him the + creature’s appearing miraculously out of nowhere. +

+

+ Maskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to + curiosity and awe. “That was exactly like the birth of a thought,” + he said to himself, “but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind + is at work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are + different, and he has character, for all belong to the same general + type.... If I’m not wrong, and if it’s the force called + Shaping or Crystalman, I’ve seen enough to make me want to find out + something more about him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other + riddles before I have solved these.” +

+

+ A voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a human + figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. It looked + more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but nimble, and was + clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached from the neck to below + the knees. Around his head was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for him, + and when he was nearer went a little way to meet him. +

+

+ Then he experienced another surprise, for this person, although clearly a + human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything between the two, but + was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which was remarkable to behold + and difficult to understand. In order to translate into words the sexual + impression produced in Maskull’s mind by the stranger’s + physical aspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in + earthly use would be applicable. Instead of “he,” “she,” + or “it,” therefore “ae” will be used. +

+

+ He found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily + peculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, and + not from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. Body, + face, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but something + quite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a woman at the + first glance by some indefinable difference of expression and atmospheres + altogether apart from the contour of the figure, so the stranger was + separated in appearance from both. As with men and women, the whole person + expressed a latent sensuality, which gave body and face alike their + peculiar character.... Maskull decided that it was love—but + what love—love for whom? It was neither the shame-carrying passion + of a male, nor the deep-rooted instinct of a female to obey her destiny. + It was as real and irresistible as these, but quite different. +

+

+ As he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an + intuitive feeling that her lover was no other than Shaping himself. It + came to him that the design of this love was not the continuance of the + race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No children were + produced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal child. Further, ae + sought like a man, but received like a woman. All these things were dimly + and confusedly expressed by this extraordinary being, who seemed to have + dropped out of another age, when creation was different. +

+

+ Of all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, this + one struck him as infinitely the most foreign—that is, the + farthest removed from him in spiritual structure. If they were to live + together for a hundred years, they could never be companions. +

+

+ Maskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing the + newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to account for + the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae possessed broad + shoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so far ae + resembled a man. But the bones were so flat and angular that aer flesh + presented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces + in place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down by + the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung together + in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea. The + face too was broken and irregular. With his racial prejudices, Maskull + found little beauty in it, yet beauty there was, though neither of a + masculine nor of a feminine type, for it had the three essentials of + beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper-coloured + and strangely luminous, as if lighted from within. The face was beardless, + but the hair of the head was as long as a woman’s, and, dressed in a + single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae possessed only two + eyes. That part of the turban which went across the forehead protruded so + far in front that it evidently concealed some organ. +

+

+ Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared active, + vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes were + powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless, + the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable + ancientness came upon him—aer real youth seemed as far away as the + view observed through a reversed telescope. +

+

+ At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were + conversing with a dream. “To what sex do you belong?” he + asked. +

+

+ The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was + oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance. +

+

+ “Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world + was peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only survivor of all + those beings who were then passing through Faceny’s mind.” +

+

+ “Faceny?” +

+

+ “Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names + invented by a race of superficial creatures.” +

+

+ “What’s your own name?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae.” +

+

+ “What?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have + just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess + extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of it.” +

+

+ “Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never + mind that now. It is your _sex_ that interests me. How do you satisfy your + desires?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on her brow. “With that I + gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay + valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been + spent trying to find Faceny himself. I’ve hunted so long that if I + were to state the number of years you would believe I lied.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else + from Matterplay—a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.” +

+

+ “You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.” +

+

+ “It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. “In Matterplay he will + stir inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I + knew him.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may + happen. Keep out of the water.” +

+

+ “This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.” +

+

+ “Don’t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by + right to the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work + to remove them.” +

+

+ Maskull continued thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have + to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?” +

+

+ “Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to + serve me. Together we will search for Threal.” +

+

+ “Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?” +

+

+ “I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.” +

+

+ “You said Faceny, Leehallfae.” +

+

+ The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. “This + stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its + source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is in + Threal that we must look for Faceny.” +

+

+ “But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s + a well-known country?” +

+

+ “It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are + few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have + scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of + Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants + beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, + dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.” +

+

+ “Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have + found Faceny, what do you gain?” +

+

+ Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and + its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that + Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief + and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the scents + and traces of whose person were always present. This passion stamped her + features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual beauty, far + transcending any beauty of woman or man. +

+

+ But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast showed + Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but vulgar—it + was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims with + untiring persistence. +

+

+ He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. + “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any case I + shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as + yourself.” +

+

+ “But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different + creations. A phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s + body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman. + Faceny may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not + feel this?” +

+

+ “I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions + I can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the + phaen’s thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he + proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not + forgetting your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as + Maskull and finish it as Digrung.” +

+

+ The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road + was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it + warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they + could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a long + time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel + to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. + The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, + where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears + vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream. +

+

+ Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying + to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, + Maskull, or what is the matter?” +

+

+ “Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, + if anyone does. What is Muspel?” +

+

+ The phaen’s face was blank. “I don’t know the name.” +

+

+ “It is another world of some sort.” +

+

+ “That cannot be. There is only this one world—Faceny’s.” +

+

+ Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. “I’m + glad I fell in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything + connected with it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot + there are hardly any organic forms left—why have they all + disappeared? You call this brook a ‘life stream,’ yet the + nearer its source we get, the less life it produces. A mile or two lower + down we had those spontaneous plant-animals appearing out of nowhere, + while right down by the sea, plants and animals were tumbling over one + another. Now, if all this is connected in some mysterious way or other + with your Faceny, it seems to me he must have a most paradoxical nature. + His essence doesn’t start creating shapes until it has become + thoroughly weakened and watered.... But perhaps both of us are talking + nonsense.” +

+

+ Leehallfae shook aer head. “Everything hangs together. The stream is + life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these + sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes. The + nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous is its + life. You’ll see for yourself when we reach the head of the valley + that there are no living shapes there at all. That means that there is no + kind of matter tough enough to capture and hold the terrible sparks that + are to be found there. Lower down the stream, most of the sparks are + vigorous enough to escape to the upper air, but some are held when they + are a little way up, and these burst suddenly into shapes. I myself am of + this nature. Lower down still, toward the sea, the stream has lost a great + part of its vital power and the sparks are lazy and sluggish. They spread + out, rather than rise into the air. There is hardly any kind of matter, + however delicate, that is incapable of capturing these feeble sparks, and + they are captured in multitudes—that accounts for the innumerable + living shapes you see there. But not only that—the sparks are passed + from one body to another by way of generation, and can never hope to cease + being so until they are worn out by decay. Lowest of all, you have the + Sinking Sea itself. There the degenerate and enfeebled life of the + Matterplay streams has for its body the whole sea. So weak is it’s + power that it can’t succeed in creating any shapes at all but you + can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to do so, in those spouts.” +

+

+ “So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness + of the life germ in their case?” +

+

+ “Exactly. It can’t attain all its desires at once. And now you + can see how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously + from the more electric and vigorous sparks.” +

+

+ “But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?” +

+

+ “When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its + place is constantly taken by new matter.” +

+

+ “But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?” +

+

+ “Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left + his brain they are nothing—mere dying embers.” +

+

+ “This is a cheerless philosophy,” said Maskull. “But who + is Faceny himself, then, and why does he think at all?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. “That I’ll explain + too. Faceny is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He + has no back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It + must necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and + Nothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally contemplates + Nothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could he + feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in empty + places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.” +

+

+ “That rings true,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny’s face backward. Since + his face is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught + of thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of + Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the + world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not + outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like a + gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never see.” +

+

+ Maskull pondered deeply for a while. +

+

+ “Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, + since you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought.” +

+

+ “Have you never loved a woman?” asked the phaen, regarding him + fixedly. +

+

+ “Perhaps I have.” +

+

+ “When you loved, did you have no high moments?” +

+

+ “That’s asking the same question in other words.” +

+

+ “In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have + drawn nearer still, would you not have done so?” +

+

+ “I would, regardless of the consequences.” +

+

+ “Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?” +

+

+ “But I would have that to hope for.” +

+

+ Leehallfae walked on in silence. +

+

+ “A man is the half of Life,” ae broke out suddenly. “A + woman is the other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. + Moreover, when life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped + out of it—something that belongs only to the whole. Between your + love and mine there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn + to Faceny, without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you + suppose it is with me?” +

+

+ “I don’t question the genuineness of your passion,” + replied Maskull, “but it’s a pity you can’t see your way + to carry it forward into the next world.” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion. + “Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see + the world only as it really is.” +

+

+ That ended the conversation. +

+

+ The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the head + of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except at those + moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode along all + the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot and relaxing. + All life had ceased. A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was presented by the + cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that choked the entire + width of the gorge. They were of a snow-white crystalline limestone, + heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue. The rivulet was no + longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal. Its noise was musical, and + altogether it looked most romantic and charming, but Leehallfae seemed to + find something else in it—aer features grew more and more set and + tortured. +

+

+ About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another + plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes. It was + as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous appearance, + as befitted a creature just out of Nature’s mint. It started to walk + about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder. Nothing + remained of it—the whole body disappeared instantaneously into the + same invisible mist from which it had sprung. +

+

+ “That bears out what you said,” commented Maskull, turning + rather pale. +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the + region of terrible life.” +

+

+ “Then, since you’re right in this, I must believe all that you’ve + been telling me.” +

+

+ As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine. + There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three + hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the head + of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed. +

+

+ “In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now + lend me your luck.” +

+

+ They walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it + reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be + difficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a few + feet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be heard. The + floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up the precipice the + sun was shining. +

+

+ “What do you want me to do?” demanded Maskull. “Everything + is now in your hands, and I have no suggestions to make. Now it’s + your luck that must help us.” +

+

+ Maskull continued gazing up a little while longer. “We had better + wait till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I’ll probably have to climb to + the top, but it’s too hot at present—and besides, I’m + tired. I’ll snatch a few hours’ sleep. After that, we’ll + see.” +

+

+ Leehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was standing + by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae had slept at + all. +

+

+ “What time is it?” Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting + up. +

+

+ “The day is passing,” was the vague reply. +

+

+ Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. “Now I’m + going to climb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so + you wait here, and if I find anything on top I’ll call you.” +

+

+ A phaen glanced at him strangely. “There’s nothing up there + except a bare hillside. I’ve been there often. Have you anything + special in mind?” +

+

+ “Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait.” +

+

+ Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the + cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it grew + precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and + intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect before + every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no novice at + the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it half blinded + him with its glittering whiteness. +

+

+ After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating + copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two + projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling upward, + his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the larger of + the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a huge, dark + shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to the foot of + the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones. Maskull + steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments before he + dared to look down behind him. +

+

+ At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight of legs + and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He perceived + that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising something, + and waited for aer to reappear. +

+

+ Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice, + “The entrance is here!” +

+

+ “I’m coming down!” roared Maskull. “Wait for me!” +

+

+ He descended swiftly—without taking too much care, for he thought he + recognised his “luck” in this discovery—and within + twenty minutes was standing beside the phaen. +

+

+ “What happened?” +

+

+ “The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the + spring. It tore it out of its bed. See—now there’s room for us + to get in!” +

+

+ “Don’t get excited!” said Maskull. “It’s a + remarkable accident, but we have plenty of time. Let me look.” +

+

+ He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man without + stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet a peculiar + glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock tunnel went + straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight. The valley + brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had expected, but + came up as a spring just inside the entrance. +

+

+ “Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe + that your stream parts company with us here.” +

+

+ As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was + trembling from head to foot. +

+

+ “Why, what’s the matter?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. “The stream leaves us, but + what makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there.” +

+

+ “But surely you don’t expect to see him in person? Why are you + shaking?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it will be too much for me after all.” +

+

+ “Why? How is it affecting you?” +

+

+ The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm’s length, + endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. “Faceny’s + thoughts are obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he + grants to you what he denies to me.” +

+

+ “What does he grant to me?” +

+

+ “To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it’s + immaterial. Tomorrow both of us will be dead.” +

+

+ Maskull impatiently shook himself free. “Your sensations may be + reliable in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?” +

+

+ “Life is flaming up inside you,” replied Leehallfae, shaking + aer head. “But after it has reached its climax—perhaps tonight—it + will sink rapidly and you’ll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter + Threal I shan’t come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to + me out of this hole.” +

+

+ “You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing.” +

+

+ “I am not frightened,” said Leehallfae quietly—ae had + been gradually recovering aer tranquillity—“but when one has + lived as long as I have, it is a serious matter to die. Every year one + puts out new roots.” +

+

+ “Decide what you’re going to do,” said Maskull with a + touch of contempt, “for I’m going in at once.” +

+

+ The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that + walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his head, + followed close at aer heels. +

+

+ The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere + altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear and + refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts. The daylight + disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that, Maskull could not + say where the light came from. The air itself must have been luminous, for + though it was as light as full moon on Earth, neither he nor Leehallfae + cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the light was that both the walls of + the tunnel and their own bodies appeared colourless. Everything was black + and white, like a lunar landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal + feelings created by the atmosphere. +

+

+ After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to widen + out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could have walked + side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged aerself along + slowly and painfully, with sunken head. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of aer. “You can’t go on like that. Better + let me take you back.” +

+

+ The phaen smiled, and staggered. “I’m dying.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. It’s only a passing + indisposition. Let me take you back to the daylight.” +

+

+ “No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny.” +

+

+ “The sick must have their way,” said Maskull. Lifting aer + bodily in his arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or + so. They then emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of + which he had never set eyes upon before. +

+

+ “Set me down!” directed Leehallfae feebly. “Here I’ll + die.” +

+

+ Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground. The + phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with + fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape. +

+

+ Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain, lighted + as if by the moon—but there was of course no moon, and there were no + shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside them were + trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but the branches + also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other plants could be + seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice. Beyond a mile or + two in any direction the light merged into obscurity. At their back a + great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not square like a + wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented line of sea + cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight. Here and there + a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered, towered aloft into + the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof. There were no colours—every + detail of the landscape was black, white, or grey. The scene appeared so + still, so solemn and religious, that all his feelings quieted down to + absolute tranquillity. +

+

+ Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and + helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a + candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of + Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen’s dead features. +

+

+ While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone standing + beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at once rise. +

+

+ “Another phaen dead,” said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, + and intellectual voice. +

+

+ Maskull got up. +

+

+ The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not + disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were energetic + and rather coarse—yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure, hard + life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine eyes carried a + twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was apparently in the + forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the hair of his head was + short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed in a black, sleeveless + robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There was an air of cleanness and + austerity about the whole man that was attractive. +

+

+ He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so, kept + passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. “They all + find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live to + an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because of their + spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured children of + Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at once.” +

+

+ “I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?” +

+

+ “I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you + doing here?” +

+

+ “My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. + As for what I am doing here—I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, + from Matterplay.” +

+

+ “But a man doesn’t accompany a phaen out of friendship. What + do you want in Threal?” +

+

+ “Then this is Threal?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull remained silent. +

+

+ Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. “Are you + ignorant, or merely reticent, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them.” +

+

+ The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred, + and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as + though they were in a cathedral. +

+

+ “Then do you want my society, or not?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is—not to talk + about myself.” +

+

+ “But you must at least tell me where you want to go to.” +

+

+ “I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “I can guide you through, if that’s all you want. Come, let us + start.” +

+

+ “First let’s do our duty and bury the dead, if possible.” +

+

+ “Turn around,” directed Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae’s body had disappeared. +

+

+ “What does this mean—what has happened?” +

+

+ “The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for + it to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required.” +

+

+ “Was the phaen an illusion, then?” +

+

+ “In no sense.” +

+

+ “Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be + going mad.” +

+

+ “There’s nothing unintelligible in it, if you’ll only + listen calmly. The phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible + world—to Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny’s world, but + Thire’s, and Faceny’s creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. + As this applies not only to whole bodies, but even to the last particles + of bodies, the phaen has dissolved into Nothingness.” +

+

+ “But don’t you and I belong to the outside world too?” +

+

+ “We belong to all three worlds.” +

+

+ “What three worlds—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “There are three worlds,” said Corpang composedly. “The + first is Faceny’s, the second is Amfuse’s, the third is Thire’s. + From him Threal gets its name.” +

+

+ “But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three + worlds?” +

+

+ Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. “All this we can discuss + as we go along. It’s a torment to me to be standing still.” +

+

+ Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae’s body had lain, + quite bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely + tear himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang + called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him. +

+

+ They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, + directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the + absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the + jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly + silence, the knowledge that he was underground—the combination of + all these things predisposed Maskull’s mind to mysticism, and he + prepared himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang’s explanation of + the land and its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of + the outside world and the reality of this world were two quite different + things. +

+

+ “In what sense are there three worlds?” he demanded, repeating + his former question. +

+

+ Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. “First of all, + Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it’s mere intellectual + curiosity, tell me, for we mustn’t play with awful matters.” +

+

+ “No, it isn’t that,” said Maskull slowly. “I’m + not a student. My journey is no holiday tour.” +

+

+ “Isn’t there blood on your soul?” asked Corpang, eying + him intently. +

+

+ The blood rose steadily to Maskull’s face, but in that light it + caused it to appear black. +

+

+ “Unfortunately there is, and not a little.” +

+

+ The other’s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment. +

+

+ “And so you see,” went on Maskull, with a short laugh, “I’m + in the very best condition for receiving your instruction.” +

+

+ Corpang still paused. “Underneath your crimes I see a man,” he + said, after a few minutes. “On that account, and because we are + commanded to help one another, I won’t leave you at present, though + I little thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your + question.... Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three + ways—length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is + relation, depth is feeling.” +

+

+ “Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who + came from Threal.” +

+

+ “I don’t know him. What else did he tell you?” +

+

+ “He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the + interruption.” +

+

+ “These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is + Faceny’s world, relation is Amfuse’s world, feeling is Thire’s + world.” +

+

+ “Can’t we come down to hard facts?” said Maskull, + frowning. “I understand no more than I did before what you mean by + three worlds.” +

+

+ “There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first + world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of + nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.” +

+

+ “That I understand.” +

+

+ “The second world is Love—by which I don’t mean lust. + Without love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable + deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy—not + even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect + and distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny’s world of + Nature, therefore, we have Amfuse’s world of Love, or Relation.” +

+

+ “What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world + is not contained in the first?” +

+

+ “They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover + lives for others.” +

+

+ “It may be so. It’s rather mystical. But go on—who is + Thire?” +

+

+ “Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and + love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the + need of men to stretch out toward their creator.” +

+

+ “You mean prayer and worship?” +

+

+ “I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in + either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as + depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between + Thire and man.” +

+

+ “But what is Thire himself?” +

+

+ “Thire is the afterworld.” +

+

+ “I still don’t understand,” said Maskull. “Do you + believe in three separate gods, or are these merely three ways of + regarding one God?” +

+

+ “There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they + are somehow united.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected a while. “How have you arrived at these + conclusions?” +

+

+ “None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Why in Threal—what is there peculiar here?” +

+

+ “I will show you presently.” +

+

+ They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what + had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the + banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,” + he remarked. +

+

+ Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and + uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance. +

+

+ “How has this come about—and how did you know it?” +

+

+ “They were Faceny’s organs. They have vanished, just as the + phaen’s body vanished.” +

+

+ Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. “I feel more human without them. + But why isn’t the rest of my body affected?” +

+

+ “Because its living will contains the element of Thire.” +

+

+ “Why are we stopping here?” +

+

+ Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and + proffered it to him. “Eat this, Maskull.” +

+

+ “For food, or something else?” +

+

+ “Food for body and soul.” +

+

+ Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was + bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change of + perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline, became + several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang he was + impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed expression + was still in his eyes. +

+

+ “Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Occasionally I go above, but not often.” +

+

+ “What fastens you to this gloomy world?” +

+

+ “The search for Thire.” +

+

+ “Then it’s still a search?” +

+

+ “Let us walk on.” +

+

+ As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, the + conversation became even more earnest in character than before. “Although + I was not born here,” proceeded Corpang, “I’ve lived + here for twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing + nearer to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it—the + first stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. + The longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the + beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a + voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and + harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles + off.” +

+

+ “How do you explain that?” +

+

+ “When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull.” +

+

+ “But this is troubling you?” +

+

+ “My days are spent in torture.” +

+

+ “You still persist, though? This day darkness can’t be the + ultimate state?” +

+

+ “My questions will be answered.” +

+

+ A silence ensued. +

+

+ “What do you propose to show me?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three + Figures, which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, + we will pray.” +

+

+ “And what then?” +

+

+ “If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily + forget.” +

+

+ They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two + parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills + on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as it + curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view. They came + to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed a trickling + brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was flowing up + the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by other + miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized stream. + Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead. +

+

+ “Nature has other laws here, it seems?” +

+

+ “Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds.” +

+

+ “Yet the water is flowing somewhere.” +

+

+ “I can’t explain it, but there are three wills in it.” +

+

+ “Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?” +

+

+ “Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without + Faceny.” +

+

+ Maskull thought this over for some minutes. “That must be so,” + he said at last. “Without life there can be no love, and without + love there can be no religious feeling.” +

+

+ In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the valley + presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The sides + were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower at every + step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and sepulchral. +

+

+ Maskull said, “I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another + world.” +

+

+ “I still do not know what you are doing here,” answered + Corpang. +

+

+ “Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur.” +

+

+ “That name I’ve heard—but under what circumstances?” +

+

+ “You forget?” +

+

+ Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled. + “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull shook his head, and said nothing. +

+

+ The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching + fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock + walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but just + when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by cliffs on + all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly into the + open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of precipices. +

+

+ A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the + way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred + yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with + perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet, but + its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one + another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too + proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged + onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher than + that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double line of + lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible. +

+

+ The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight + forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a waterfall, + it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then disappeared + through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side. +

+

+ To Maskull’s mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural + phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here than + on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms. +

+

+ Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When they + had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet. Three large + rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three upright + giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of the chasm. + Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that they were + statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship was of the + rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and trunks had been + barely chipped into shape—the faces alone had had care bestowed on + them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was obviously the + work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with knees closed and + arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were exactly alike. +

+

+ As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “Is this a representation of your three Beings?” asked + Maskull, awed by the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity. +

+

+ “Ask no questions, but kneel,” replied Corpang. He dropped + onto his own knees, but Maskull remained standing. +

+

+ Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a few + minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he + continued looking. +

+

+ It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight + and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit. +

+

+ Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had + ceased to be a statue—it was a living person. Out of the blackness + of space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy + glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew + stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow came + from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist. +

+

+ Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that of + a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl and + the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull felt + the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one who awakes + from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark, delicate + colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and looked beyond + him. He began to shudder, with delight—and many emotions. As he + gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and indefinable + character that he could endure it no more; he burst into tears. +

+

+ When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few + moments more he was plunged back into total darkness. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured into + a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its face and + body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from them. This + light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden fire. It + illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges, the cliffs, + himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted statues—all + appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and strongly + defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat. Maskull was + unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart melting to + womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded imperceptibly + away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left behind was not + freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate and nearly savage + mental state of pity and distress. He felt a tormenting desire to serve. + All this came from the heat of the statue, and was without an object. He + glanced anxiously around him, and fastened his eyes on Corpang. He put a + hand on his shoulder and aroused him from his praying. +

+

+ “You must know what I am feeling, Corpang.” +

+

+ Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing. +

+

+ “I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?” +

+

+ “So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to + the invisible worlds.” +

+

+ As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to die + away from the landscape. Maskull’s emotion slowly subsided, but it + was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became master + of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition of + enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting in + his character. He got up onto his feet. +

+

+ The very moment that he arose, a man’s voice sounded, not a yard + from his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could + distinguish that it was not Corpang’s. As he listened he was unable + to prevent himself from physically trembling. +

+

+ “Maskull, you are to die,” said the unseen speaker. +

+

+ “Who is speaking?” +

+

+ “You have only a few hours of life left. Don’t trifle the time + away.” +

+

+ Maskull could bring nothing out. +

+

+ “You have despised life,” went on the low-toned voice. “Do + you really imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is + a joke?” +

+

+ “What must I do?” +

+

+ “Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to...” +

+

+ The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again. All + remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken his + departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of + catalepsy. +

+

+ At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, + white glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining. +

+

+ In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got + up, and shook him out of his trance. +

+

+ Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. “Whose statue was + the last?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Did you hear me speaking?” +

+

+ “I heard your voice, but no one else’s.” +

+

+ “I’ve just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long + to live. Leehallfae prophesied the same thing.” +

+

+ Corpang shook his head. “What value do you set on life?” he + asked. +

+

+ “Very little. But it’s a fearful thing all the same.” +

+

+ “Your death is?” +

+

+ “No, but this warning.” +

+

+ They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men + seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard + the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way + off and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked. It + appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where they + were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull’s heart beat + quickly. +

+

+ “What can that sound be?” asked Corpang, peering into the + obscurity. +

+

+ “It is Surtur.” +

+

+ “Once again, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance + was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in + intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer + seen by Their’s light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows. +

+

+ Corpang’s nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. + “What fire is that?” +

+

+ “It is Muspel-light.” +

+

+ They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange glow + they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in the + sordid and horrible Crystalman mask. +

+

+ Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. “What can this + mean?” he asked a minute later. +

+

+ “It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, + whether he is one person or three.” +

+

+ Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a shocking + sight. “Dare we believe this?” +

+

+ “You must,” replied Maskull. “You have always served the + highest, and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that + Thire is not the highest.” +

+

+ Corpang’s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. “Life + is clearly false—I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I + find—this.” +

+

+ “You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had + eternity to practice his cunning in, so it’s no wonder if a man can’t + see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?” +

+

+ “The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “But where will it take us?” +

+

+ “Perhaps out of Threal altogether.” +

+

+ “It sounds to me more real than reality,” said Corpang. + “Tell me, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of + which this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is + other than life.” +

+

+ “How do you know this?” +

+

+ “It has sprung together somehow—from inspiration, from + experience, from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour + it grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape.” +

+

+ Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, + energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. “I believe + you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not + the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but + the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming + with you—but don’t play the traitor. These signs may be for + you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me—” +

+

+ “I make no promises. I don’t ask you to come with me. If you + prefer to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, + you had better not come.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to + me... Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound.” +

+

+ Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the + direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along the + ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually + departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical + beats continued, but a very long way ahead—neither was able to + diminish the distance. +

+

+ “What kind of man are you?” Corpang suddenly broke out. +

+

+ “In what respect?” +

+

+ “How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it + that I’ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my + never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to + me?” +

+

+ “To hear voices perhaps can’t be made a profession,” + replied Maskull. “I have a simple and unoccupied mind—that may + be why I sometimes hear things that up to the present you have not been + able to.” +

+

+ Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his + pride. +

+

+ The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on + the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the right, + and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a bridge, coming + out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of precipices + immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along the base of + these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large cave the + sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps inward. +

+

+ “This leads to the outer world,” remarked Corpang. “I’ve + occasionally been there by this passage.” +

+

+ “Then that’s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan’t + be sorry to see sunlight once more.” +

+

+ “Can you find time to think of sunlight?” asked Corpang with a + rough smile. +

+

+ “I love the sun, and perhaps I’m rather lacking in the spirit + of a zealot.” +

+

+ “Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.” +

+

+ “Don’t be bitter,” said Maskull. “I’ll tell + you another thing. Muspel can’t be willed, for the simple reason + that Muspel does not concern the will. To will is a property of this + world.” +

+

+ “Then what is your journey for?” +

+

+ “It’s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over + the walk, and quite another to run there at top speed.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I’m not so easily deceived as you think,” said + Corpang with another smile. +

+

+ The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep + ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to + climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the + confined dreams of his childhood. +

+

+ Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the last + stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all dirty + and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a hillside, bathed + in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang followed closely at his + heels. He was obliged to shield his eyes with his hands for a few minutes, + so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell’s blinding rays. +

+

+ “The drum beats have stopped!” he exclaimed suddenly. +

+

+ “You can’t expect music all the time,” answered Maskull + dryly. “We mustn’t be luxurious.” +

+

+ “But now we have no guide. We’re no better off than before.” +

+

+ “Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, + Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north.” +

+

+ “That will take us to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. “I + saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they + did then, and there’s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm + from here?” +

+

+ Corpang looked away to the distant range. “I don’t know, but + unless a miracle happens we shan’t get there tonight.” +

+

+ “I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not + only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my + life.” +

+

+ And he sat down passively to rest. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his + arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed + impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped + short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. “What do you + intend to do?” +

+

+ Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. + “Since we can’t walk, we must wait.” +

+

+ “For what?” +

+

+ “I don’t know... How’s this, though? Those peaks have + changed colour, from red to green.” +

+

+ “Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.” +

+

+ “The lich wind?” +

+

+ “It’s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the + mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as + Threal.” +

+

+ “It’s a sort of fog, then?” +

+

+ “A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.” +

+

+ “So we are to have lovemaking,” said Maskull, laughing. +

+

+ “Perhaps you won’t find it so joyous,” replied Corpang a + little grimly. +

+

+ “But tell me—these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?” +

+

+ Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast fading + into obscurity. +

+

+ “Passion keeps them from falling.” +

+

+ Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. + “What, the love of rock for rock?” +

+

+ “It is comical, but true.” +

+

+ “We’ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the + mountains is Barey, is it not?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?” +

+

+ “That is told only to those who die beside it.” +

+

+ “Is the secret so precious, Corpang?” +

+

+ Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than two + hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. It was + a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now appeared only + as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling, and was exciting + in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional inflammation, as though a + very slight external cause would serve to overturn his self-control. + Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron. +

+

+ Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. +

+

+ “That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something + from the top.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his companion’s opinion, he began to scramble up + the tower, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined + him. +

+

+ From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the + sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. Leaving + all that, however, Maskull’s eyes immediately fastened themselves on + a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which was travelling + rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the air. +

+

+ “What do you make of that?” he asked in a tone of + astonishment. +

+

+ Corpang shook his head and said nothing. +

+

+ Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished the + distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and more, but + its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was continually + jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull now made out a + man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large dead animal lying + amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he observed a thick, blue haze + underneath it, and a similar haze behind, but the front, facing them, was + clear. +

+

+ “Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth + carries it?” +

+

+ He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had not + been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made wild + motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred yards + distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a way + that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence. +

+

+ The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a walking + man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was shaped rather + queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides tapered off from a + flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern. The flat bottom was + not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked, and carried only one + living occupant; the other object they had distinguished was really the + carcass of an animal, of about the size of a large sheep. The blue haze + trailing behind the boat appeared to emanate from the glittering point of + a short upright pole fastened in the stern. When the craft was within a + few feet of them, and they were looking down at it in wonder from above, + the man removed this pole and covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. + The forward motion then ceased altogether, and the boat began to drift + hither and thither, but still it remained suspended in the air, while the + haze underneath persisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against + the pile of rocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore + and immediately clambered up to meet them. +

+

+ Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a young + man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His limbs were + quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long, and he had the + biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in a man. His + hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding teeth, and a + spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped upward. On his + forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been mutilated—it + was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short and thin. + Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed to stand in + the same relation to jale as green to red. +

+

+ Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two + companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. + Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the + first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background. +

+

+ “What men are you?” demanded the aerial navigator at last. His + voice was extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It + sounded to Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way + through a narrow orifice. +

+

+ “I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where + I come from, don’t ask.” +

+

+ “I am Haunte, from Sarclash.” +

+

+ “Where may that be?” +

+

+ “Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got + too murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Are you returning there now?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And how long will it take to get there in that boat?” +

+

+ “Two—three hours.” +

+

+ “Will it accommodate us too?” +

+

+ “What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?” +

+

+ “To see the sights,” responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. + “But first of all, to dine. I can’t remember having eaten all + day. You seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won’t lack + for food.” +

+

+ Haunte eyed him quizzically. “You certainly don’t lack + impudence. However, I’m a man of that sort myself, and it is the + sort I prefer. Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a + meal of a stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up + out of a dark hole.” +

+

+ Maskull took Corpang’s arm, and constrained him to silence. +

+

+ “Where have you been hunting, Haunte?” +

+

+ “Matterplay. I had the worst luck—I speared one wold horse, + and there it lies.” +

+

+ “What is Lichstorm like?” +

+

+ “There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no + men-women, as with you.” +

+

+ “What do you call men-women?” +

+

+ “Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are + pure.” +

+

+ “I have always regarded myself as a man.” +

+

+ “Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?” +

+

+ “Why, do you?” +

+

+ Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. “Things are different in + Lichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?” +

+

+ “I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what + you say.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll introduce you to Sullenbode.” +

+

+ He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a + great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook. +

+

+ “Let us share the joke,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Oh, you’ll understand it later.” +

+

+ “If you play pranks with me, I won’t stand on ceremony with + you.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed again. “I won’t be the one to play pranks. + Sullenbode will be deeply obliged to me. If I don’t visit her myself + as often as she would like, I’m always glad to serve her in other + ways.... Well, you shall have your boat ride.” +

+

+ Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. “If the sexes hate one another + in your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?” +

+

+ “In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm + there is hard passion.” +

+

+ “But what do you call hard passion?” +

+

+ “Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure.” +

+

+ “I intend to understand, before I’ve finished.” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Haunte, with a taunting look, “it would + be a pity to let the chance slip, since you’re going to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ It was now Corpang’s turn to take Maskull by the arm. “This + journey will end badly.” +

+

+ “Why so?” +

+

+ “Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women.” +

+

+ “Let me alone,” said Maskull. “Give luck a slack rein. + What brought this boat here?” +

+

+ “What is this talk about Muspel?” demanded Haunte. +

+

+ Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes. + “What do you know?” +

+

+ “Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high + time to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn’t child’s + play, let me tell you.” +

+

+ “I shall not forget,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull gazed down at the boat. “Are we to get in?” +

+

+ “Gently, my friend. It’s only canework and skin.” +

+

+ “First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived + to dispense with the laws of gravitation.” +

+

+ Haunte smiled sarcastically. “A secret in your ear, Maskull. All + laws are female. A true male is an outlaw—outside the law.” +

+

+ “I don’t understand.” +

+

+ “The great body of the earth is continually giving out female + particles, and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally + continually trying to reach them. That’s gravitation.” +

+

+ “Then how do you manage with your boat?” +

+

+ “My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat + prevents it from falling to the ground; the one in the stern shuts it off + from solid objects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any + part of the earth is the bow, for that’s the only part the light of + the male stones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels.” +

+

+ “And what are these wondrous male stones?” +

+

+ “They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they + are showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the + female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left over + to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the least + attracted in that direction.” +

+

+ Maskull ruminated for a minute. +

+

+ “With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very + handy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun’s sinking, and we’d + better start.” +

+

+ “Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then + you and your gloomy friend can sit amidships.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but + then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom, + still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear, as + though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but the + rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and he + was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty. +

+

+ After the first moment’s shock, he quietly accepted the new order of + things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight in + the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then + descended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his + settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last; + grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to erect + it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near view of + the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of Nature, acted + indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In the last ruddy + gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it looked little more + impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating blue-white jewel, + but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured mist that it threw + out for many yards around. +

+

+ The steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to the + top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment of the + male stone’s rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be shut + off at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial vessel quietly + detached itself from the rock to which it had been drawn, and passed + slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. Branchspell sank below + the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out everything outside a radius of + a few miles. The air grew cool and fresh. +

+

+ Soon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte withdrew + the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. +

+

+ “You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night,” + exclaimed Maskull. “I would have thought it impossible.” +

+

+ Haunte grunted. “You will have to take risks, and think yourself + fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. But one + thing I can tell you—if you go on disturbing me with your chitchat + we shan’t get as far as the mountains.” +

+

+ Thereafter Maskull was silent. +

+

+ The twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to look at, + but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to the + never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of + gravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing of a + small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy. Haunte, + from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with one eye. The + darkness now came on rapidly. +

+

+ About ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they arrived at + the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There was no daylight + left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides of them and in the + rear, the landscape was lighted up for a considerable distance by the now + vivid blue rays of the twin male stones. Ahead, where these rays did not + shine, Haunte was guided by the self-luminous nature of the rocks, grass, + and trees. These were faintly phosphorescent; the vegetation shone out + more strongly than the soil. +

+

+ The moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore + inferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or twice, + from his sensations of choking, he thought that they were entering a + fogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the effect of + doubling the intensity of every light in front of them. Whenever this + happened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he experienced transitory, + unreasoning fright and horror. +

+

+ Now they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills from + the mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many thousands of + feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to manoeuvre carefully with + the rear light in order to keep clear of them. Maskull watched the + delicacy of his movements, not without admiration. A long time went by. It + grew much colder; the air was damp and drafty. The fog began to deposit + something like snow on their persons. Maskull kept sweating with terror, + not because of the danger they were in, but because of the cloud banks + that continued to envelop them. +

+

+ They cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this time + with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by the + male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out of + sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke + through. In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling + hither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through + one of which Teargeld was shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic + peak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and was + then swallowed up again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the mist. + The moon went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him long for + the aerial voyage to end. +

+

+ The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new + cliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, downward, and on + both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. After coasting it a + little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out. It was square, + measuring about a dozen feet each way. Green snow covered it to a depth of + some inches. Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which + promised to be the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he raised + the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then removed both + male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. His face was thrown + into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white rays. It looked + rather surly. +

+

+ “Do we get out?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes. I live here.” +

+

+ “Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.” +

+

+ “Yes, it has been touch-and-go.” +

+

+ Corpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. “There + has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a + ferryman, Haunte.” +

+

+ “Is that so?” returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. + “I thought I was carrying men, not gods.” +

+

+ “Where are we?” asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but + Haunte remained standing a minute in the boat. +

+

+ “This is Sarclash—the second highest mountain in the land.” +

+

+ “Which is the highest, then?” +

+

+ “Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—very + difficult in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, + lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you + know the lay of the land.” +

+

+ “Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?” +

+

+ “Near enough.” Haunte grinned. +

+

+ He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, + walked straight into the cave. +

+

+ Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to a + doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed his + way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made no + comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its + fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard + at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. +

+

+ The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with + walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways: that + by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly opposite. + The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from door to door. + Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground. A number of lumps + of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the wall, and a few + bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were tusks, horns, and + bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two short hunting spears, + having beautiful crystal heads. +

+

+ Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther door; + thire light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the meat + and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. +

+

+ “Are we invited to the feast?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not + pause in his chewing. +

+

+ “Where’s a cup?” inquired Maskull, lifting one of the + skins. +

+

+ Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up, + undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the cup. + Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed off the + draught, and then felt much better. +

+

+ The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, + swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to + drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, + and began to throw off care. +

+

+ Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat down + on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and coarse, but + he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not understand the flavour, + which was not surprising in a world of strange animals. The meal proceeded + in silence. Corpang ate sparingly, standing up, and afterward lay down on + a bundle of furs. His bold eyes watched all the movements of the other + two. Haunte had not drunk as yet. +

+

+ At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed + pleasantly, and prepared to talk. +

+

+ “Now explain further about your women, Haunte.” +

+

+ Haunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off the + string with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in quick + succession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to Maskull. +

+

+ “Well?” +

+

+ “So they are objectionable?” +

+

+ “They are deadly.” +

+

+ “Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?” +

+

+ “You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had + some bad feelings, eh?” +

+

+ “I don’t conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were + struggling with a nightmare. What caused it?” +

+

+ “The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion.” +

+

+ “I had no passion.” +

+

+ “That was passion—the first stage. Nature tickles your + people into marriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You’ll + have a return of those sensations—only ten times worse. The drink + you’ve had will see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?” +

+

+ “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you questions.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed loudly. “Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?” +

+

+ “But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, + fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?” +

+

+ Maskull coolly drank another cup. “And why should she give all that + to a passerby?” +

+

+ “Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn’t it to give. No, what + she will give you, and what you’ll accept from her, because you can’t + help it, is—anguish, insanity, possibly death.” +

+

+ “You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why + should I accept insanity and death?” +

+

+ “Because your passion will force you to.” +

+

+ “What about yourself?” Maskull asked, biting his nails. +

+

+ “Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune.” +

+

+ “Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?” +

+

+ “Yes, but don’t attempt any tricks, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. “So + men and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?” + he proceeded at last. +

+

+ “That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love + between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is + Maskull’s female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land + the men are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the female side.” +

+

+ “Where do the male stones come from?” +

+

+ “Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff + somewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure female + world. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual + shapes.” +

+

+ “Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?” +

+

+ “The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is + dangerous to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?” +

+

+ Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. “I remind you of + your promise to tell about Muspel.” +

+

+ Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. “Ha! The underground + man has come to life.” +

+

+ “Yes, tell us,” put in Maskull carelessly. +

+

+ Haunte drank, and laughed a little. “Well, the tale’s short, + and hardly worth telling, but since you’re interested.... A stranger + came here five years ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was Lodd. + He came from the east. He came up to me one bright morning in summer, + outside this very cave. If you ask me to describe him—I can’t + imagine a second man like him. He looked so proud, noble, superior, that I + felt my own blood to be dirty by comparison. You can guess I don’t + have this feeling for everyone. Now that I am recalling him, he was not so + much superior as different. I was so impressed that I rose and talked to + him standing. He inquired the direction of the mountain Adage. He went on + to say, ‘They say Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you + know of such a thing?’ I told him the truth—that I knew + nothing about it, and then he went on, ‘Well, I am going to Adage. + And tell those who come after me on the same errand that they had better + do the same thing.’ That was the whole conversation. He started on + his way, and I’ve never seen him or heard of him since.” +

+

+ “So you didn’t have the curiosity to follow him?” +

+

+ “No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in + the man somehow seemed to vanish.” +

+

+ “Probably because he was useless to you.” +

+

+ Corpang glanced at Maskull. “Our road is marked out for us.” +

+

+ “So it would appear,” said Maskull indifferently. +

+

+ The talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, and grew + restless. +

+

+ “What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in + daylight? It struck me as strange.” +

+

+ “Dolm,” said Haunte. +

+

+ “A compound of ulfire and blue,” explained Corpang. +

+

+ “Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger.” +

+

+ “What colours have you in your world?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how + it comes about I can’t imagine.” +

+

+ “There are two sets of three primary colours here,” said + Corpang, “but as one of the colours—blue—is identical in + both sets, altogether there are five primary colours.” +

+

+ “Why two sets?” +

+

+ “Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and + red; Alppain, ulfire, blue, and jale.” +

+

+ “It’s remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me + before.” +

+

+ “So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity of + nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a + contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In yellow + light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red is feeling. + When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal feelings.... As + regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle and is therefore + not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it must be a + different sort of existence.” +

+

+ Haunte yawned. “There are marvellous philosophers in your + underground hole.” +

+

+ Maskull got up and looked about him. +

+

+ “Where does that other door lead to?” +

+

+ “Better explore,” said Haunte. +

+

+ Maskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging the + curtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose abruptly and + hurried after him. +

+

+ Corpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit skins, + untied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to the floor. + Next he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the points between his + hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, Haunte and Maskull + reappeared. The host’s quick, shifty eyes at once took in what had + happened. He smiled, and turned pale. +

+

+ “You haven’t been idle, friend.” +

+

+ Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. “I thought it well + to draw your teeth.” +

+

+ Maskull burst out laughing. “The toad’s come into the light to + some purpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?” +

+

+ Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly + uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him. + The two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They were as often on the + floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the + better of it. He made no attempt to separate them. A thought came into his + head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, laughing, + through the upper doorway, into the open night air. +

+

+ The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A narrow + ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it + was the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the + chasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers + than stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind. While Maskull was + still watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern, + followed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull’s arm excitedly. +

+

+ “What in Krag’s name have you done?” +

+

+ “Overboard they have gone,” replied Maskull, renewing his + laughter. +

+

+ “You accursed madman!” +

+

+ Haunte’s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal + light were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion of + his will. +

+

+ “You know this kills me?” +

+

+ “Haven’t you been doing your best this last hour to make me + ripe for Sullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!” +

+

+ “You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.” +

+

+ Haunte’s jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a + sick man—yet somehow his face had become nobler. +

+

+ “I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my + being also very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the + same errand—which doesn’t appear to have struck you yet.” +

+

+ “But why this errand at all?” asked Corpang quietly. “Can’t + you men exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?” +

+

+ Haunte fixed him with wild eyes. “No. The phantoms come trooping in + on me already.” +

+

+ He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again. +

+

+ “And I cannot wait.... the game is started.” +

+

+ Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte in + front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme caution was + demanded. The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and rocks. +

+

+ When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the + party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down. +

+

+ “The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse.” +

+

+ Haunte turned back. “Then you are a doomed man.” +

+

+ Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, imagined + that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural being, who + was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled violently, + yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in great drops. The + waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that space it kept coming + and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the point of departing; the + next it almost took shape—which he knew would be his death. Suddenly + it vanished altogether—he was free. A fresh spring breeze fanned his + face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet bird; and it seemed + to him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. Such flashing, + heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all his life! Almost + immediately that too vanished. +

+

+ Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like + one who has been visited by an angel. +

+

+ “Your colour changed to white,” said Corpang. “What + happened?” +

+

+ “I passed through torture to love,” replied Maskull simply. +

+

+ He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. “Will you not describe + that passage?” +

+

+ Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. “When I was in Matterplay, + I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living + animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to + consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy + would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is not + accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through my + brain.... You men of Lichstorm don’t go far enough. You stop at the + pangs, without realising that they are birth pangs.” +

+

+ “If this is true, you are a great pioneer,” muttered Haunte. +

+

+ “How does this sensation differ from common love?” + interrogated Corpang. +

+

+ “This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.” +

+

+ Corpang fingered his chin awhile. “The Lichstorm men, however, will + never reach this stage, for they are too masculine.” +

+

+ Haunte turned pale. “Why should we alone suffer?” +

+

+ “Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn’t act according to + justice.... Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all.” +

+

+ “I’ll see,” muttered Haunte. “Perhaps I will.” +

+

+ “Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “No, her home’s under the hanging cap of Sarclash.” +

+

+ “What is to happen tonight?” Maskull spoke to himself, but + Haunte answered him. +

+

+ “Don’t expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just + occurred. She is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will + draw her out into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were + permanent, you would have endowed her with a soul.” +

+

+ “Perhaps the change might be made permanent.” +

+

+ “To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as + well. But why should she desire you?” +

+

+ “Nothing turns out as one expects,” said Maskull, shaking his + head. “We had better get on again.” +

+

+ They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner + of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which + mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use + both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the + overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. +

+

+ The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and + bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. +

+

+ “This must be under the cap,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode.” +

+

+ When he spoke his words, Maskull’s lips surprised him by their + tender sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills + throughout his body. +

+

+ The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into + sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but no + leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful light—a + mingling of jale and white—gleamed softly through the darkness. She + sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in a singular skin + garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one shoulder, and ended as + loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her forearms were lightly + folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten fruit. +

+

+ Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he + had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting in + its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked + scarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In their + richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a background of + slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour could not be + distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked into her + garment behind, for convenience. +

+

+ Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly agitated. + Maskull’s heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte pulled + him, and said, “My head feels as if it were being torn from my + shoulders.” +

+

+ “What can that mean?” +

+

+ “Yet there’s a horrible joy in it,” added Haunte, with a + sickly smile. +

+

+ He put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced + up at them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not + imagine that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped + on his knees, and kissed her lips. +

+

+ She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull + noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged from + their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The smile + faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her feet, + and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn. Maskull + came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but nothing + indicated what she thought. +

+

+ Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She + suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, he + fell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in contact with + an electric wire. The back of his head struck the ground, and he lay there + motionless. +

+

+ Corpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had + happened, he left him where he was. +

+

+ “Maskull, come here quickly!” +

+

+ The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte’s skin, as Maskull bent + over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had been + split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with + strange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from an + axe. +

+

+ “This couldn’t be from the fall,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “No, Sullenbode did it.” +

+

+ Maskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her former + attitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had vanished from her + face, and she was again smiling. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Sullenbode’s naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the + clothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her senseless, + smiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through his body. +

+

+ Corpang spoke out of the night. “She looks like an evil spirit + filled with deadliness.” +

+

+ “It was like deliberately kissing lightning.” +

+

+ “Haunte was insane with passion.” +

+

+ “So am I,” said Maskull quietly. “My body seems full of + rocks, all grinding against one another.” +

+

+ “This is what I was afraid of.” +

+

+ “It appears I shall have to kiss her too.” +

+

+ Corpang pulled his arm. “Have you lost all manliness?” +

+

+ But Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at his + beard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After this had + gone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the woman, and + lifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright against the rugged tree + trunk, he kissed her. +

+

+ A cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it was + death, and lost consciousness. +

+

+ When his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder with + one hand at arm’s length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. At + first he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but + another. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with that + which Haunte’s action had called into existence. A great calmness + came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. +

+

+ Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her + features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power. + She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her + face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth + crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous as + before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her—she + looked the kingliest of all women. She appeared not more than + twenty-five. +

+

+ Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way + and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a + long, bowlike smile. “Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?” +

+

+ Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull.” +

+

+ She motioned to him to come a step nearer. “Listen, Maskull. Man + after man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, + for I did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for + good or evil.” +

+

+ Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said + quietly, “What have you to say about him?” +

+

+ “Who was it?” +

+

+ “Haunte.” +

+

+ “So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a + famous man.” +

+

+ “It’s a horrible affair. I can’t think that you killed + him deliberately.” +

+

+ “We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only + protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.” +

+

+ “I might have died, too.” +

+

+ “You came together?” +

+

+ “There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.” +

+

+ “I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Nothing.” +

+

+ “Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.” +

+

+ “No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.” +

+

+ “This is not that pleasure, then?” demanded the low, earnest + voice, out of the darkness. +

+

+ “No, that pleasure has not returned.” +

+

+ Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. “What pleasure are you speaking of?” +

+

+ “A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.” +

+

+ “But what do you feel now?” +

+

+ “Calm and free.” +

+

+ Sullenbode’s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling + sea of elemental passions. “I do not know how it will end, Maskull, + but we will still keep together a little. Where are you going?” +

+

+ “To Adage,” said Corpang, stepping forward. +

+

+ “But why?” +

+

+ “We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to + find Muspel-light.” +

+

+ “It’s the light of another world.” +

+

+ “The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?” +

+

+ “On one condition,” said Corpang. “They must forget + their sex. Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.” +

+

+ “I give you all other men,” said Sullenbode. “Maskull is + mine.” +

+

+ “No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of + the existence of nobler things.” +

+

+ “You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to + Adage.” +

+

+ “Are you acquainted with it?” +

+

+ Again the woman gripped Maskull’s arm. “What is love—which + Corpang despises?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, “Love is that + which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake + of the beloved.” +

+

+ Corpang wrinkled his forehead. “A magnanimous female lover is new in + my experience.” +

+

+ Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, “Are + you contemplating a sacrifice?” +

+

+ She gazed at her feet, and smiled. “What does it matter what my + thoughts are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest + first? It’s a rough road to Adage.” +

+

+ “What’s in your mind?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash + and Adage, perhaps I shall turn back.” +

+

+ “And then?” +

+

+ “Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, + but if it is dark it’s hardly likely.” +

+

+ “That’s not what I meant. What will become of you after we + have parted company?” +

+

+ “I shall return somewhere—perhaps here.” +

+

+ Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. “Shall + you sink back into—the old state?” +

+

+ “No, Maskull, thank heaven.” +

+

+ “Then how will you live?” +

+

+ Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There + was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. “And who said I would go + on living?” +

+

+ Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he + spoke again. “You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can’t + leave you like this.” +

+

+ Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed. +

+

+ “You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us + go.... Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others—who + aren’t so single-minded—can do is to help him to his + destination. We mustn’t inquire whether the destination of + single-minded men is as a rule worth arriving at.” +

+

+ “If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.” +

+

+ “Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.” +

+

+ Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have + picked up wisdom.” +

+

+ “Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.” +

+

+ As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte. +

+

+ “Can we not bury that poor fellow?” +

+

+ “By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not + include Corpang.” +

+

+ “We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I + am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.” +

+

+ “Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” + They left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three + men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the + same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, + pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies + shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but + Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. + They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and + fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an + alluring girl and a half-infatuated man. +

+

+ For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, + maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a false + step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right. After a + while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground, and they + seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The ascending slope on + the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards more. Then Sullenbode + bore sharply to the left, and they found level ground all around them. +

+

+ “We are on the ridge,” announced the woman, halting. +

+

+ The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst through + the clouds, illuminating the whole scene. +

+

+ Maskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view was + quite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, shining down + on them from behind. Straight in front, like an enormously wide, smoothly + descending road, lay the great ridge which went on to Adage, though Adage + itself was out of sight. It was never less than two hundred yards wide. It + was covered with green snow, in some places entirely, but in other places + the naked rocks showed through like black teeth. From where they stood + they were unable to see the sides of the ridge, or what lay underneath. On + the right hand, which was north, the landscape was blurred and indistinct. + There were no peaks there; it was the distant, low-lying land of Barey. + But on the left hand appeared a whole forest of mighty pinnacles, near and + far, as far as the eye could see in moonlight. All glittered green, and + all possessed the extraordinary hanging caps that characterised the + Lichstorm range. These caps were of fantastic shapes, and each one was + different. The valley directly opposite them was filled with rolling mist. +

+

+ Sarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two + ends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile or more of + empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which they stood. The + southern end was the long line of cliffs on that part of the mountain + where Haunte’s cave was situated. The connecting curve was the steep + slope they had just traversed. One peak of Sarclash was invisible. +

+

+ In the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a few + summits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared over the + south side of the horseshoe. +

+

+ Maskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw her + for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on his lips. + The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, and the face, + pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly became almost + beautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of rose-red. Her hair was + a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly disturbed; he thought that she + resembled a spirit, rather than a woman. +

+

+ “What puzzles you?” she asked, smiling. +

+

+ “Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight.” +

+

+ “Perhaps you never will.” +

+

+ “Your life must be most solitary.” +

+

+ She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. “Why + do you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means + I can’t say.” +

+

+ Sullenbode laughed outright. “It assuredly does not mean the + approach of night.” +

+

+ Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly + broke in. “The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I’ll + go on alone.” +

+

+ “No, we’ll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us.” +

+

+ “A little way,” said the woman, “but not to Adage, to + pit my strength against unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know + how to renounce love, but I will never be a traitor to it.” +

+

+ “Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang + is as ignorant as myself.” +

+

+ Corpang looked him full in the face. “Maskull, you are quite well + aware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a + beautiful woman.” +

+

+ Maskull gave an uneasy laugh. “What Corpang doesn’t tell you, + Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than he, + and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying his + prayers in Threal.” +

+

+ “Still, what he says must be true,” she replied, looking from + one to the other. +

+

+ “And so I am not to be allowed to—” +

+

+ “So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not + backward, Maskull.” +

+

+ “We need not quarrel yet,” he remarked, with a forced smile. + “No doubt things will straighten themselves out.” +

+

+ Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. “I picked up + another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.” +

+

+ “Tell it to me, then.” +

+

+ “Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their + strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but the + law-abiders live at their ease—they have conquered nothing for + themselves.” +

+

+ “It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and + perfect. You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.” +

+

+ “No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.” +

+

+ They started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three were + abreast, Sullenbode in the middle. +

+

+ The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance + comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth, for + the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm to + their naked feet. Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides. The + moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows + were sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked on + Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the + galaxy of glorious distant peaks. +

+

+ “You cannot belong to this world,” said the woman. “Men + of your stamp are not to be looked for here.” +

+

+ “No, I have come here from Earth.” +

+

+ “Is that larger than our world?” +

+

+ “Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With + all those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and + therefore the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without + encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure + among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.” +

+

+ “Do men hate women there, and women men?” +

+

+ “No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant + is the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes. + There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.” +

+

+ “That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. + But now say—why did you come here?” +

+

+ “To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer + interested me.” +

+

+ “How long have you been in this world?” +

+

+ “This is the end of my fourth day.” +

+

+ “Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. + You cannot have been inactive.” +

+

+ “Great misfortunes have happened to me.” +

+

+ He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from the + moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode listened, + with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. Only twice did + she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin’s death, she + said, speaking in a low voice—“None of us women ought by right + of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act of hers, + I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.” Again, + speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, “That grand-souled girl I admire + the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing else + besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?” +

+

+ When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, “Does it not strike + you, Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the + men?” +

+

+ “I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a + substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love the + sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally noble.” +

+

+ Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet, + that he was struck into silence. +

+

+ They tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, “Now + you understand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, scant + pity for anyone—Oh, it has been a bloody journey!” +

+

+ She laid her hand on his arm. “I, for one, would not have it less + rugged.” +

+

+ “Nothing good can be said of my crimes.” +

+

+ “To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not + what.... The grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause to + look up to women.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Sullenbode!” he responded, with a troubled smile. +

+

+ “When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of + your road. You go on, looking neither to right nor left.” +

+

+ “Take care that you are not thrown as well,” said Corpang + gravely. +

+

+ “Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for + whatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have a bag + of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have had it + described to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, selfish joy. + It is not that—it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, and + bloody.... How should you know.” +

+

+ “Selfishness has far too many disguises.” +

+

+ “If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?” +

+

+ “Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too + swift for you both.” +

+

+ Sullenbode studied him through her lashes. “Do you mean death—his + death as well as mine?” +

+

+ “You go too far, Corpang,” said Maskull, turning a shade + darker. “I don’t accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes.” +

+

+ “If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead.” +

+

+ The woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. “I wish you to + stay with us.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “I think you may know what you are talking about. I don’t wish + to bring harm to Maskull. Presently I’ll leave you.” +

+

+ “That will be best,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked angry. “I shall decide—Sullenbode, whether you + go on, or back, I stay with you. My mind is made up.” +

+

+ An expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her efforts + to conceal it. “Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered brows. + After a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. “Wait, Sullenbode!” +

+

+ The others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the woman + smiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her lips. Then he + relinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang. +

+

+ “How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?” +

+

+ “It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to me.” +

+

+ “Then I say no more; but you are a fated man.” +

+

+ From that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the others. +

+

+ A heavy gleam appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Now things are + changed, Maskull. Where are you taking me?” +

+

+ “Choose, you.” +

+

+ “The man I love must complete his journey. I won’t have it + otherwise. You shall not stand lower than Corpang.” +

+

+ “Where you go, I will go.” +

+

+ “And I—as long as your love endures, I will accompany you—even + to Adage.” +

+

+ “Do you doubt its lasting?” +

+

+ “I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you + before. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love me no + longer, I must die.” +

+

+ “And why?” asked Maskull slowly. +

+

+ “Yes, that’s the responsibility you incurred when you kissed + me for the first time. I never meant to tell you.” +

+

+ “Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?” +

+

+ “I have no other life but what you give me.” +

+

+ He gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then slowly + placed his arms around her body. During this embrace he turned very pale, + but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk. +

+

+ A few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed. +

+

+ They had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky and + nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the character + of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow disappeared, and + gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little grassy hillocks and + marshes. They began to slip about and become draggled with mud. + Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and the men followed in her + tracks. The southern half of the landscape grew grander. The greenish + light of the brilliant moon, shining on the multitude of snow-green peaks, + caused it to appear like a spectral world. Their nearest neighbour towered + high above them on the other side of the valley, due south, some five + miles distant. It was a slender, inaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, + the angles of which were too steep to retain snow. A great upward-curving + horn of rock sprang out from its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it + constituted their cheif landmark. +

+

+ The whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The surface soil + was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed in the damp mists + by night, and breathed them out again by day, under Branchspell’s + rays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then difficult, and finally + dangerous. None of the party could distinguish firm ground from bog. + Sullenbode sank up to her waist in a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her, + but after this incident took the lead himself. Corpang was the next to + meet with trouble. Exploring a new path for himself, he tumbled into + liquid mud up to his shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death. After + Maskull had got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded once more; + but now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had to be + thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the test + frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end they no + longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered from top to + toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. He not only had + the exhausting task of beating the way, but was continually called upon to + help his companions out of their difficulties. Without him they could not + have got through. +

+

+ After a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength. + Corpang’s breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, + and depressed. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at them doubtfully. “Does this continue?” he + inquired. +

+

+ “No. I think,” replied the woman, “we can’t be far + from the Mornstab Pass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then + the road will improve perhaps.” +

+

+ “Can you have been here before?” +

+

+ “Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then.” +

+

+ “You are tired out, Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “What of it?” she replied, smiling faintly. “When one + has a terrible lover, one must pay the price.” +

+

+ “We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we + come to.” +

+

+ “I leave it to you.” +

+

+ He paced up and down, while the others sat. “Do you regret anything?” + he demanded suddenly. +

+

+ “No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.” +

+

+ “Your feelings are unchanged?” +

+

+ “Love can’t go back—it can only go on.” +

+

+ “Yes, eternally on. It is so.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax + has been reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.” +

+

+ “That’s a dreadful creed,” he said in a low voice, + turning pale beneath his coating of mud. +

+

+ “Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don’t know + what I feel.” +

+

+ In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey + recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain + off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge of + the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was nothing + but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was the + lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces of + earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with stunted + vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands that way, + but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to east and west, + the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. A low haze + concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air, broken only + by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall. +

+

+ Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country. The + moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an Earth + day. +

+

+ “Tonight is like life,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ “How so?” +

+

+ “So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “Poor girl, you are unhappy.” +

+

+ “And you—are you happy?” +

+

+ He thought a while, and then replied—“No. No, I’m not + happy. Love is not happiness.” +

+

+ “What is it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Restlessness—unshed tears—thoughts too grand for our + soul to think...” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ After a time she asked, “Why were we created, just to live for a few + years and then disappear?” +

+

+ “We are told that we shall live again.” +

+

+ “Yes, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Perhaps in Muspel,” he added thoughtfully. +

+

+ “What kind of life will that be?” +

+

+ “Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a + thing to remain uncompleted.” +

+

+ She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. “This dream is + untrue. Love is completed here.” +

+

+ “How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by + Fate?” +

+

+ “It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment + for us? Can’t we suffer—can’t we go on suffering, + forever and ever? Maskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and + without remedy, we don’t begin to feel ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. “Can the memory of + love be worth more than its presence and reality?” +

+

+ “You don’t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all + the rest beside.” She caught at him. “Oh, if you could only + see inside my mind, Maskull! You would see strange things.... I can’t + explain. It is all confused, even to myself.... This love is quite + different from what I thought.” +

+

+ He sighed again. “Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong + for human beings. And I think that it overturns our reason in different + ways.” +

+

+ They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with + unseeing eyes. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said Sullenbode at last, with a + smile, getting up. “Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, + let us be off!” +

+

+ Maskull too got up. +

+

+ “Where’s Corpang?” he asked listlessly. +

+

+ They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the point + where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly toward + the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy list. + Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards, but then + a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from side to + side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out all further + view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to the other, was + crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining brightly in the + moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were about thirty in + all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that there was little + doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some were + perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme + antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing the + hill, not far from the top. +

+

+ “He wishes to arrive,” said Maskull, watching the energetic + ascent with a rather cynical smile. +

+

+ “The heavens won’t open for Corpang,” returned + Sullenbode. “He need not be in such a hurry.... What do these + pillars seem like to you?” +

+

+ “They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have + planted them there?” +

+

+ She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill, and + disappear through the line of posts. +

+

+ Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. “Now we two are alone in a + lonely world.” +

+

+ She regarded him steadily. “Our last night on this earth must be a + grand one. I am ready to go on.” +

+

+ “I don’t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go + down the pass a little, and find shelter.” +

+

+ She half smiled. “We won’t study our poor bodies tonight. I + mean you to go to Adage, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, + terrible climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?” +

+

+ She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to + him. “Come, Maskull!” +

+

+ When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the foot + of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the hill, + and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode, but she + appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind and above + the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began to be + illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter faded; + the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the light of + Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid, peculiar, and + awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing—it was + supernatural and indescribable. Maskull’s spirit swelled. He stood + fast, with expanded nostrils and terrible eyes. +

+

+ Sullenbode touched him lightly. +

+

+ “What do you see, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Muspel-light.” +

+

+ “I see nothing.” +

+

+ The light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It burned + with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot the + existence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. Each beat + was like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the sky and making + the air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and one continuous roar + of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm persisted—the four + beats, with the third accented, still came pulsing through the atmosphere, + only now against a background of thunder, and not of silence. +

+

+ Maskull’s heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed + to throw it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the sublime + universe which was beginning to unveil itself. +

+

+ Sullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed him—passionately, + again and again. He made no response; he was unaware of what she was + doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and streaming eyes, went + noiselessly away. She started to go back toward the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ A few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died down. + The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside were again + bright. In a short time the supernatural light had entirely vanished, but + the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled rhythm, from behind the + hill. Maskull started violently, and stared around him like a suddenly + awakened sleeper. +

+

+ He saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards off. + At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, calling out.... + She did not look around. When he had lessened the distance between them by + a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and fall. She did not get up again, + but lay motionless where she fell. +

+

+ He flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were realised. + Life had departed. +

+

+ Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman + grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful + to him as at that moment. +

+

+ He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept—but, + between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and + listened to the distant drum beats. +

+

+ An hour passed—two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. + Maskull lifted Sullenbode’s dead body on to his shoulders, and + started to walk toward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He intended + to look for water in which to wash the corpse of his beloved, and earth in + which to bury her. +

+

+ When he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which they + had sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead girl on the + stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over toward Barey. +

+

+ After that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ The day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull awoke + from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The air was cool + and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was singing; the song + consisted of only two notes, but it was so plaintive and heartbreaking + that he scarcely knew how to endure it. +

+

+ The eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band of + chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was blue-tinted, + mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was visible. +

+

+ The saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had descended + that distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, like a huge + flying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay perhaps fifteen + hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was rough, and the angle was + excessively steep, though not precipitous. It was above a mile across. On + each side of it, east and west, the dark walls of the ridge descended + sheer. At the point where the pass sprang outward they were two thousand + feet from top to bottom, but as the ridge went upward, on the one hand + toward Adage, on the other toward Sarclash, they attained almost + unbelievable heights. Despite the great breadth and solidity of the pass, + Maskull felt as though he were suspended in midair. +

+

+ The patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked + Sullenbode’s grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, + with a long, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white steam + of a hot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where he sat he + was unable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately flowed, but it + was in that pool that he had last night washed first of all the dead girl’s + body, and then his own. +

+

+ He got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him dully. + For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed by + imperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. The sky + was nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the mighty ridge + behind him began to emerge from the morning mist... there was a part of + Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic Adage itself, which he could + only take in by throwing his head right back. +

+

+ He gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his desires + were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do nothing. He thought + he would go to Barey. +

+

+ He went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting + beside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag. +

+

+ Maskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin shirt + and breeches. His face was stern, yellow, and ugly. He eyed Maskull + without smiling or getting up. +

+

+ “Where in the devil’s name have you come from, Krag?” +

+

+ “The great point is, I am here.” +

+

+ “Where’s Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Not far away.” +

+

+ “It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me + in such a damnable fashion?” +

+

+ “You were strong enough to get through alone.” +

+

+ “So it turned out, but how were you to know?.... Anyway, you’ve + timed it well. It seems I am to die today.” +

+

+ Krag scowled. “You will die this morning.” +

+

+ “If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?” +

+

+ “You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is + there to live for?” +

+

+ “Nothing,” said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. “I am + quite ready. I have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... + So now you’ve come to rejoin me. Where are we going?” +

+

+ “Through Barey.” +

+

+ “And what about Nightspore?” +

+

+ Krag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. “We won’t wait + for him. He’ll be there as soon as we shall.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “At our destination.... Come! The sun’s rising.” +

+

+ As they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, huge + and white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of the dawn + vanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some trees and plants, + the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in sleep. +

+

+ Maskull pointed them out to his companion. +

+

+ “How is it the sunshine doesn’t open them?” +

+

+ “Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain.” +

+

+ “How long will it be before that sun rises?” +

+

+ “Some time yet.” +

+

+ “Shall I live to see it, do you think?” +

+

+ “Do you want to?” +

+

+ “At one time I did, but now I’m indifferent.” +

+

+ “Keep in that humour, and you’ll do well. Once for all, there’s + nothing worth seeing on Tormance.” +

+

+ After a few minutes Maskull said, “Why did we come here, then?” +

+

+ “To follow Surtur.” +

+

+ “True. But where is he?” +

+

+ “Closer at hand than you think, perhaps.” +

+

+ “Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is + supernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow + connected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what is + Surtur?” +

+

+ “Don’t disturb yourself about that. You will never know.” +

+

+ “Do you know?” +

+

+ “I know,” snarled Krag. +

+

+ “The devil here is called Krag,” went on Maskull, peering into + his face. +

+

+ “As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil.” +

+

+ “Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I + to believe of you?” +

+

+ “Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman.” +

+

+ They continued descending the landslip. The sun’s rays had grown + insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, + Maskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were + travelling toward a lake district. +

+

+ “What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days, + Krag? What happened to the torpedo?” +

+

+ “You’re just about on the same mental level as a man who sees + a brand-new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding.” +

+

+ “What palace have you been building, then?” +

+

+ “We have not been idle,” said Krag. “While you have been + murdering and lovemaking, we have had our work.” +

+

+ “And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re an open book. Now you’ve got a mortal heart + wound on account of a woman you knew for six hours.” +

+

+ Maskull turned pale. “Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman + for six hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your leather + heart. You haven’t even the feelings of an insect.” +

+

+ “Behold the child defending its toys!” said Krag, grinning + faintly. +

+

+ Maskull stopped short. “What do you want with me, and why did you + bring me here?” +

+

+ “It’s no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect,” + said Krag, pulling him into motion again. “The distance has got to + be covered, however often we pull up.” +

+

+ When he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through his + heart. +

+

+ “I can’t go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You’re + something more than a man—whether good or evil, I can’t say.” +

+

+ Krag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull’s + remark, but after a pause said, “So you’ve been trying to find + Surtur on your own account, during the intervals between killing and + fondling?” +

+

+ “What was that drumming?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “You needn’t look so important. We know you had your ear to + the keyhole. But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing + for you, my friend.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled rather bitterly. “At all events, I listen through no + more keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing + any more, from this time forward.” +

+

+ “Brave words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will + make one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more.” +

+

+ “Now I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don’t you? Well, + that may prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all.” +

+

+ The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour + later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was + approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it would + clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive, saucer-shaped + ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was glowing with bright + morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands of feet higher still, + guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In front of them, starting + from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting wilderness of little + lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark green; the forests were + asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain. +

+

+ “Are we now in Barey?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes—and there is one of the natives.” +

+

+ There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull did + not see it. +

+

+ A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees, apparently + waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and beardless, and was + still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark blue, loosely flowing + robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His face, which was not + disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest, and grave, yet + somehow remarkably pleasing. +

+

+ Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull’s hand, but even + while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The + latter responded with a scowling grin. +

+

+ When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone, but + it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and variety + of tone. +

+

+ “I’ve been waiting for you here since sunrise,” he said. + “Welcome to Barey, Maskull! Let’s hope you’ll forget + your sorrows here, you over-tested man.” +

+

+ Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. “What made you + expect me, and how do you know my name?” +

+

+ The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. “I’m + Gangnet. I know most things.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you a greeting for me too—Gangnet?” asked + Krag, thrusting his forbidding features almost into the other’s + face. +

+

+ “I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome.” +

+

+ “And I know you, Gangnet—you man-woman.... Well, we are here + together, and you must make what you can of it. We are going down to the + Ocean.” +

+

+ The smile faded from Gangnet’s face. “I can’t drive you + away, Krag—but I can make you the unwelcome third.” +

+

+ Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. “That + bargain suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have + the shadow, and much good may it do you.” +

+

+ “Now that it’s all arranged so satisfactorily,” said + Maskull, with a hard smile, “permit me to say that I don’t + desire any society at all at present.... You take too much for granted, + Krag. You have played the false friend once already.... I presume I’m + a free agent?” +

+

+ “To be a free man, one must have a universe of one’s own,” + said Krag, with a jeering look. “What do you say, Gangnet—is + this a free world?” +

+

+ “Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man’s + privilege,” returned Gangnet tranquilly. “Maskull is quite + within his rights, and if you’ll engage to leave him I’ll do + the same.” +

+

+ “Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won’t + get rid of me so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” muttered Maskull. “Let + everyone join in the procession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, + anyhow, if what they say is true.” +

+

+ “I’ll lead the way,” said Gangnet. “You don’t + know this country, of course, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some + miles farther down, we shall be able to travel by water, but at present we + must walk, I fear.” +

+

+ “Yes, you fear—you fear!” broke out Krag, in a + highpitched, scraping voice. “You eternal loller!” +

+

+ Maskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There seemed to + be a determined hostility between the two, which indicated an intimate + previous acquaintance. +

+

+ They set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for a + mile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that flowed + beside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured leaves were + all folded. There was no underbrush—they walked on clean, brown + earth, A distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, but the air was + pleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate them. The bright lake + outside looked cool and poetic. +

+

+ Gangnet pressed Maskull’s arm affectionately. “If the bringing + of you from your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would have + brought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have escaped + the dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to you.” +

+

+ “And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the + same.” +

+

+ “You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference + whether one sees darkness through the light, or brightness through the + shadows.” +

+

+ “A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly + prefer to know it as it really is.” +

+

+ “The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman’s + thoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and + Pleasantness. Even Krag won’t have the effrontery to deny that.” +

+

+ “It’s very nice here,” said Krag, looking around him + malignantly. “One only wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to + complete it.” +

+

+ Maskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. “Last night, when I was + struggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight—then I thought + the world beautiful.” +

+

+ “Poor Sullenbode!” said Gangnet, sighing. +

+

+ “What! You knew her?” +

+

+ “I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show + your own nobility. I think all women are noble.” +

+

+ “There may be millions of noble women, but there’s only one + Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “If Sullenbode can exist,” said Gangnet, “the world + cannot be a bad place.” +

+

+ “Change the subject.... The world’s hard and cruel, and I am + thankful to be leaving it.” +

+

+ “On one point, though, you both agree,” said Krag, smiling + evilly. “Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced at him coldly. “We know your peculiar theories, + Krag. You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could + not go on being, without pleasure.” +

+

+ “So Gangnet thinks!” jeered Krag. +

+

+ They came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a + little cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh series of + lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big mountain slope, + built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose border they had been + travelling was not banked at the end, but overflowed to the lower level in + half a dozen beautiful, threadlike falls, white and throwing off spray. + The cliff was not perpendicular, and the men found it easy to negotiate. +

+

+ At the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and they + had nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled through the + heart of it; they followed its bank. +

+

+ “It has occurred to me,” said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, + “that Alppain may be my death. Is that so?” +

+

+ “These trees don’t fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is + a wonderful, life-bringing sun.” +

+

+ “The reason I ask is—I’ve seen its afterglow, and it + produced such violent sensations that a very little more would have proved + too much.” +

+

+ “Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain + itself, it will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling of + wills inside you.” +

+

+ “And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull,” said Krag, + grinning, “is Crystalman’s trump card.” +

+

+ “How do you mean?” +

+

+ “You’ll see. You’ll renounce the world so eagerly that + you’ll want to stay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled. “Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither + enjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?” +

+

+ Maskull turned toward Krag. “It’s very odd, but I don’t + understand your creed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?” +

+

+ Krag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. “What, + because they have left off stroking you?” he exclaimed, laughing and + showing his discoloured teeth. +

+

+ “Whoever you are, and whatever you want,” said Maskull, + “you seem very certain of yourself.” +

+

+ “Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn’t + you! That would be an excellent way of destroying lies.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and picked + up two or three objects that resembled eggs. +

+

+ “To eat?” asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift. +

+

+ “Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one + mustn’t insult Krag by offering him a pleasure—especially such + a low pleasure.” +

+

+ Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid + contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the remaining egg + out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and + stuck, a splash of slime. +

+

+ “I don’t wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a + filthier sight than a smashed pleasure?” +

+

+ Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull’s arm. +

+

+ After they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs and + slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep + mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles, + during which space the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet, + at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this + immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous + forest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they + had hitherto passed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in sleep, + but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the fact that they + were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been completely + intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with light, and this + light, being tinged with the colour of the branches, was a soft and lovely + rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the illumination, that Maskull’s + spirits immediately started to rise, although he did not wish it. +

+

+ He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive. +

+

+ “What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!” + rasped Krag mockingly. “Why isn’t Sullenbode here?” +

+

+ Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag + recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit + discomposed. +

+

+ “Still what I said—was it true or untrue?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at him sternly. “You seem to regard yourself as a + necessary evil. I’m under no obligation to go on with you any + farther. I think we had better part.” +

+

+ Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness. +

+

+ “What do you say—do we part when Maskull pleases, or + when I please?” +

+

+ “Keep your temper, Maskull,” said Gangnet, showing Krag his + back. “I know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened + onto you there’s only one way of making him lose his hold, by + ignoring him. Despise him—say nothing to him, don’t answer his + questions. If you refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not + here.” +

+

+ “I’m beginning to be tired of it all,” said Maskull. + “It seems as if I shall add one more to my murders, before I have + finished.” +

+

+ “I smell murder in the air,” exclaimed Krag, pretending to + sniff. “But whose?” +

+

+ “Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on + fire.” +

+

+ “I’ll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this + accursed forest?” +

+

+ “It’s some way yet, but when we’re once out we can take + to the water, and you will be able to rest, and think.” +

+

+ “And brood comfortably over your sufferings,” added Krag. +

+

+ None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the open + day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to run, + rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation, even if + they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an hour they + were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of them as far + as they could see. +

+

+ Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a succession + of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of tree-covered land. + The lake immediately before them had its small end to the forest. It was + there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the sides and end was + shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but in the middle, beginning + a few yards from the shore, there was a perceptible current away from + them. In view of this current, it was difficult to decide whether it was a + lake or a river. Some little floating islands were in the shallows. +

+

+ “Is it here that we take to the water?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, here,” answered Gangnet. +

+

+ “But how?” +

+

+ “One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the + stream.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Where will it carry us to?” +

+

+ “Come, get on, get on!” said Krag, laughing uncouthly. “The + morning’s wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are + going to the Ocean.” +

+

+ “If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?” +

+

+ “Gangnet will murder you.” +

+

+ “You lie!” said Gangnet. “I wish Maskull nothing but + good.” +

+

+ “At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it + matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well, + Gangnet, I see you’re as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the + work.” +

+

+ He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, + splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was up + to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet from + end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there was no + form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it, and started + shoving it toward the current, apparently without having unduly to exert + himself. When it was within the influence of the stream the others waded + out to him, and all three climbed on. +

+

+ The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles an + hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there was no + shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and + periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches + next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an + animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of the + stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to be + floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary. +

+

+ Krag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet’s hat, crushing it + together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream. +

+

+ “Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?” he asked with + a harsh guffaw—“Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it + somewhere.” +

+

+ Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His + dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and noble, + and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was + strangely appealing to the feelings. +

+

+ “Let Maskull judge,” he said with proud composure, “whether + I have anything to be ashamed of.” +

+

+ “There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head,” + muttered Maskull, staring hard at him. +

+

+ “A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens + when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?” +

+

+ “What enterprises?” asked Maskull, in astonishment. +

+

+ “What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull.” +

+

+ “There are two forms of practical activity,” replied Gangnet + calmly. “One may either build up, or destroy.” +

+

+ “No, there’s a third species. One may steal—and not even + know one is stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money.” +

+

+ Maskull raised his eyebrows. “Where have you two met before?” +

+

+ “I’m paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull, but once upon a + time Gangnet paid me a visit.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “In my home—whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief.” +

+

+ “You are speaking in riddles, and I don’t understand you. I + don’t know either of you, but it’s clear that if Gangnet is a + poet, you’re a buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet.” +

+

+ Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length, with + his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep, and snoring + disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow, repulsive face + with strong disfavour. +

+

+ Two hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile distant. In + front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, the Lichstorm + Mountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had gathered together. + The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to be of a strange colour. It + was an intense jale-blue. The whole northern atmosphere was stained with + ulfire. +

+

+ Maskull’s mind grew disturbed. “Alppain is rising, Gangnet.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled wistfully. “It begins to trouble you?” +

+

+ “It is so solemn—tragical, almost—yet it recalls me to + Earth. Life was no longer important—but this is important.” +

+

+ “Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you + will be like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open day. + Then you will ask yourself how you could have been blind.” +

+

+ The two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in the + north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary colours, + among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the principal character of + an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding character of this dawn + was wildness. It did not baffle the understanding, but the heart. Maskull + felt no inarticulate craving to seize and perpetuate the sunrise, and make + it his own. Instead of that, it agitated and tormented him, like the + opening bars of a supernatural symphony. +

+

+ When he looked back to the south, Branchspell’s day had lost its + glare, and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. He + instinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from darkness to + light. +

+

+ “If those were Crystalman’s thoughts that you showed me + before, Gangnet, these must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I + am feeling now, he must have felt before me.” +

+

+ “He is all feeling, Maskull—don’t you understand + that?” +

+

+ Maskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not + reply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the + beginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious that + Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had by this + time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides they were + surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and shut out all sight + of land. Krag was still sleeping—an ugly, wrinkled monstrosity. +

+

+ Maskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its dark + green colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency. +

+

+ “Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Then nothing remains except my death.” +

+

+ “Don’t think of death, but life.” +

+

+ “It’s growing brighter—at the same time, more sombre. + Krag seems to be fading away....” +

+

+ “There is Alppain!” said Gangnet, touching his arm. +

+

+ The deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull was + struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. His emotions + were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his body. The great blue + orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an awful eye watching him.... it + shot above the sea with a bound, and Alppain’s day commenced. +

+

+ “What do you feel?” Gangnet still held his arm. +

+

+ “I have set myself against the Infinite,” muttered Maskull. +

+

+ Suddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea swept + through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy. +

+

+ “Why, Gangnet—I am nothing.” +

+

+ “No, you are nothing.” +

+

+ The mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the two + suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast by Alppain + were not black, but were composed of white daylight. +

+

+ “Then nothing can hurt me,” said Maskull with a peculiar + smile. +

+

+ Gangnet smiled too. “How could it?” +

+

+ “I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped + away, leaving me clean and free.” +

+

+ “Do you now understand life, Maskull?” +

+

+ Gangnet’s face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual + beauty; he looked as if he had descended from heaven. +

+

+ “I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this + is life.” +

+

+ “Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?” said a + jeering voice above them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his + feet. +

+

+ They both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to obscure + Alppain’s disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale. +

+

+ “What do you want with us, Krag?” asked Maskull with simple + composure. +

+

+ Krag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped around + them. +

+

+ “Don’t you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?” +

+

+ Maskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his shoulder, and + suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the ground, near the edge of + the island raft. His heart was thumping heavily and queerly; its beating + reminded him of the drum taps. He gazed languidly at the rippling water, + and it seemed to him as if he could see right through it... away, + away down... to a strange fire.... +

+

+ The water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island was + transformed into a cloud, and Maskull—alone on it—was floating + through the atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire—the fire of + Muspel. The light mounted higher and higher, until it filled the whole + world.... +

+

+ He floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, without + top or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was dealing + terrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The rhythmical, + clanging sounds were hideous. +

+

+ Presently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum beats. + “What are you doing, Krag?” he asked. +

+

+ Krag suspended his work, and turned around. +

+

+ “Beating on your heart, Maskull,” was his grinning response. + The cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the air—but + it was not Gangnet—it was Crystalman. He seemed to be trying to + escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and licking him, + whichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire caught him. He + shrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a vulgar, slobbering face—and + then that too disappeared. +

+

+ He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by + Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there. +

+

+ “What is this Ocean called?” asked Maskull, bringing out the + words with difficulty. +

+

+ “Surtur’s Ocean.” +

+

+ Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his + arm. “Where’s Nightspore?” he asked suddenly. +

+

+ Krag bent over him with a grave expression. “You are Nightspore.” +

+

+ The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. +

+

+ Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, + “Who are you?” +

+

+ Krag maintained a gloomy silence. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull’s heart, + and he died immediately. +

+

+ Krag turned his head around. “The night is really past at last, + Nightspore.... The day is here.” +

+

+ Nightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull’s body. “Why + was all this necessary?” +

+

+ “Ask Crystalman,” replied Krag sternly. “His world is no + joke. He has a strong clutch—but I have a stronger... Maskull was + his, but Nightspore is mine.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+

+ The fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all grew as + black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his companion. The water + lapped gently against the side of the island raft. +

+

+ “You say the night is past,” said Nightspore. “But the + night is still here. Am I dead, or alive?” +

+

+ “You are still in Crystalman’s world, but you belong to it no + more. We are approaching Muspel.” +

+

+ Nightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air—a rhythmical + pulsation, in four-four time. “There is the drumming,” he + exclaimed. +

+

+ “Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?” +

+

+ “I half understand it, but I’m all confused.” +

+

+ “It’s evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty + deeply,” said Krag. “The sound comes from Muspel, but the + rhythm is caused by its travelling through Crystalman’s atmosphere. + His nature is rhythm as he loves to call it—or dull, deadly + repetition, as I name it.” +

+

+ “I remember,” said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark. +

+

+ The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A small + patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of them, began + faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea around it. +

+

+ “Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few + like me?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “If all escaped, I shouldn’t sweat, my friend... There’s + hard work, and anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us + yonder.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart sank. “Have I not yet finished, then?” +

+

+ “If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?” +

+

+ The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a tiny + oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag’s grim + and rocklike features were revealed. +

+

+ “I can’t face rebirth,” said Nightspore. “The + horror of death is nothing to it.” +

+

+ “You will choose.” +

+

+ “I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with + my own soul.” +

+

+ “You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,” + said Krag. +

+

+ Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something. The + water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that they + scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull’s + corpse had disappeared. +

+

+ The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of light + grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness above, below, + and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the semblance of a + huge, black wall, without bounds. +

+

+ “Is that really a wall we are coming to?” +

+

+ “You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is + the gate you have to enter.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart beat wildly. +

+

+ “Shall I remember?” he muttered. +

+

+ “Yes, you’ll remember.” +

+

+ “Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.” +

+

+ “There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for + you.” +

+

+ “You are returning to the struggle?” demanded Nightspore, + gnawing his fingertips. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “I dare not.” +

+

+ The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like + actual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer able to + look at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous lightning, but + it possessed this further peculiarity—that it seemed somehow to give + out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. They continued to + approach the wall of darkness, straight toward the door. The glasslike + water flowed right against it, its surface reaching up almost to the + threshold. +

+

+ They could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening. +

+

+ In a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his back + and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded by the + light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed to enlarge + itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently. +

+

+ The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and pulled + Nightspore after him. +

+

+ Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound—blows + totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark and quiet as + an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim, burning passion, which + was to light and sound what light itself is to opaque colour. +

+

+ Nightspore pressed his hand to his heart. “I don’t know if I + can endure it,” he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his + person far more vividly and distinctly than if he had been able to see + him. +

+

+ “Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious + than on earth. We can’t squander the minutes. There are terrible and + tragic affairs to attend to, which won’t wait for us... Go in at + once. Stop for nothing.” +

+

+ “Where shall I go to?” muttered Nightspore. “I have + forgotten everything.” +

+

+ “Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can’t mistake it.” +

+

+ “Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?” +

+

+ “To have your wounds healed.” +

+

+ Almost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to the + island raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at once + recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was completely + invisible; everything outside was black night. +

+

+ The moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore’s heart like + a thousand trumpets. +

+

+ Straight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a + steep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other way + forward. +

+

+ He put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft. He + saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was + perceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, and + deserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a ladder + to heaven. +

+

+ After he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. Each + step was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he were + carrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar chord in his + mind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a window set in a high + embrasure. +

+

+ On to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a sort of + glass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, from the world + outside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his senses, causing his + blood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a low, mocking, vulgar + laugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at the next it was like a + rhythmical vibration of the air—the silent, continuous throbbing of + some mighty engine. The two sensations were identical, yet different. They + seemed to be related in the same manner as soul and body. After feeling + them for a long time, Nightspore got down from the embrasure, and + continued his ascent, having meanwhile grown very serious. +

+

+ The climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop at + every third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. When he + had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a second window. + Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of the air, too, had + ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as distinct as before, and + its rhythm had become _double_. There were two separate pulses; one was in + the time of a march, the other in the time of a waltz. The first was + bitter and petrifying to feel, but the second was gay, enervating, and + horrible. +

+

+ Nightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was on + the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more important + awaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent grew more and more + exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to sit down, utterly crushed + by his own dead weight. Still, he got to the third window. +

+

+ He climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves into + vision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A gigantic, + self-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying nearly the whole of + it. This sphere was composed entirely of two kinds of active beings. There + were a myriad of tiny green corpuscles, varying in size from the very + small to the almost indiscernible. They were not green, but he somehow saw + them so. They were all striving in one direction—toward himself, + toward Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any headway. + Their action produced the marching rhythm he had previously felt, but this + rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves, but was a + consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding these atoms + of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light that gyrated + hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with them wherever they + desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the waltzing rhythm. It + seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were not only being danced about + against their will but were suffering excruciating shame and degradation + in consequence. The larger ones were steadier than the extremely small, a + few were even almost stationary, and one was advancing in the direction it + wished to go. +

+

+ He turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and + searched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what he + had just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began to take + possession of him. +

+

+ On his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him to + be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but he never + dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did not once permit + himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by the time that he had + clambered into the recess, that for several minutes he could see nothing + at all—the world seemed to be spinning round him rapidly. +

+

+ When at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all was + changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants, animals, + and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything was so + magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of life. In the + interior of every individual, of every aggregate of individuals, of every + chemical atom, he clearly perceived the presence of the green corpuscles. + But, according to the degree of dignity of the life form, they were + fragmentary or comparatively large. In the crystal, for example, the + green, imprisoned life was so minute as to be scarcely visible; in some + men it was hardly bigger; but in other men and women it was twenty or a + hundred times greater. But, great or small, it played an important part in + every individual. It appeared as if the whirls of white light, which were + the individuals, and plainly showed themselves beneath the enveloping + bodies, were delighted with existence and wished only to enjoy it, but the + green corpuscles were in a condition of eternal discontent, yet, blind and + not knowing which way to turn for liberation, kept changing form, as + though breaking a new path, by way of experiment. Whenever the old + grotesque became metamorphosed into the new grotesque, it was in every + case the direct work of the green atoms, trying to escape toward Muspel, + but encountering immediate opposition. These subdivided sparks of living, + fiery spirit were hopelessly imprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft + pleasure. They were being effeminated and corrupted—that is to say, + absorbed in the foul, sickly enveloping forms. +

+

+ Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that + spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and + understood why Krag was waiting for him below. +

+

+ He mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against him was + as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and irregularity, so that + he was not for an instant suffered to relax his efforts. Nevertheless, not + a breath stirred. +

+

+ Looking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The sphere was + still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which he was standing + he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any distinguishable shape, but + somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting sweetness. Nightspore knew that + it was Crystalman. A flood of fierce light—but it was not light, but + passion—was streaming all the time from Muspel to the Shadow, and + through it. When, however, it emerged on the other side, which was the + sphere, the light was altered in character. It became split, as by a + prism, into the two forms of life which he had previously seen—the + green corpuscles and the whirls. What had been fiery spirit but a moment + ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling individuals, each + whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a fragmentary spark of + living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back rays of Starkness, and + it flashed across him with the certainty of truth that the green sparks + were the back rays, and the whirls the forward rays, of Muspel. The former + were trying desperately to return to their place of origin, but were + overpowered by the brute force of the latter, which wished only to remain + where they were. The individual whirls were jostling and fighting with, + and even devouring, each other. This created pain, but, whatever pain they + felt, it was always pleasure that they sought. Sometimes the green sparks + were strong enough for a moment to move a little way in the direction of + Muspel; the whirls would then accept the movement, not only without demur, + but with pride and pleasure, as if it were their own handiwork—but + they never saw beyond the Shadow, they thought that they were travelling + toward it. The instant the direct movement wearied them, as + contrary to their whirling nature, they fell again to killing, dancing, + and loving. +

+

+ Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to be the + last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for he guessed + that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become manifest. Every + step upward was like a bloody life-and-death struggle. The stairs nailed + him to the ground; the air pressure caused blood to gush from his nose and + ears; his head clanged like an iron bell. When he had fought his way up a + dozen steps, he found himself suddenly at the top; the staircase + terminated in a small, bare chamber of cold stone, possessing a single + window. On the other side of the apartment another short flight of stairs + mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of the building. Before + ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the window and stared out. +

+

+ The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled the + whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow. It + had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way suggested the delicate + tints of early morning. It was so nebulous that the sphere could be + clearly distinguished through it; in extension, however, it was thick. The + sweet smell emanating from it was strong, loathsome, and terrible; it + seemed to spring from a sort of loose, mocking slime inexpressibly vulgar + and ignorant. +

+

+ The spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. It was + not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or the Many, + but something else far beyond either. It approached Crystalman, and + entered his body—if that bright mist could be called a body. It + passed right through him, and the passage caused him the most exquisite + pleasure. The Muspel-stream was Crystalman’s food. The stream + emerged from the other side on to the sphere, in a double condition. Part + of it reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but shivered into a million + fragments. These were the green corpuscles. In passing through Crystalman + they had escaped absorption by reason of their extreme minuteness. The + other part of the stream had not escaped. Its fire had been abstracted, + its cement was withdrawn, and, after being fouled and softened by the + horrible sweetness of the host, it broke into individuals, which were + the whirls of living will. +

+

+ Nightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of will + was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel joy. +

+

+ Presently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he + remembered vaguely that now only that remained. +

+

+ Halfway up, he fainted—but when he recovered consciousness he + persisted as though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head was + above the trap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical sensation + as a man stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and stood + expectantly on the stone-floored roof, looking round for his first glimpse + of Muspel. +

+

+ There was nothing. +

+

+ He was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen feet + each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the stone parapet, + with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed him. +

+

+ Suddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct + impression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was + grinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was wholly + surrounded by Crystalman’s world, and that Muspel consisted of + himself and the stone tower on which he was sitting. +

+

+ Fire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque, vulgar, + ridiculous, sweetened individuals—once Spirit—were + calling out from their degradation and agony for salvation from Muspel.... + To answer that cry there was only himself... and Krag waiting below... and + Surtur—But where was Surtur? +

+

+ The truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. Muspel was + no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure indifference the existence + side by side with it of another false world, which had no right to be. + Muspel was fighting for its life—against all that is most shameful + and frightful—against sin masquerading as eternal beauty, against + baseness masquerading as Nature, against the Devil masquerading as God.... +

+

+ Now he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no + Valhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night; but + a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death—namely, + spiritual death—inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By + what means could he hold back from this horrible war! +

+

+ During those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self—the corruption + of his life on Earth—were scorched out of Nightspore’s soul, + perhaps not for the first time. +

+

+ After sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, a + strange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in awful + mystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery that he could + not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was the voice of + Crystalman. Krag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a stern + glance at Nightspore. +

+

+ “Have you seen everything?” +

+

+ “The struggle is hopeless,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “Did I not say I am the stronger?” +

+

+ “You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier.” +

+

+ “I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman’s Empire is + but a shadow on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the + bloodiest blows.... What do you mean to do?” +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him strangely. “Are you not Surtur, Krag?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. + “But what is your name on Earth?” +

+

+ “It is pain.” +

+

+ “That, too, I must have known.” +

+

+ He was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the raft. + Krag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness. +

+

+



+

+
+
+
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+ + diff --git a/old/old/1329-h.htm.2017-05-18 b/old/old/1329-h.htm.2017-05-18 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27adefe --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1329-h.htm.2017-05-18 @@ -0,0 +1,16139 @@ + + + + + + + + A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay + + + + +
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Voyage to Arcturus
+
+Author: David Lindsay
+
+Release Date: September 17, 2008 [EBook #1329]
+Last Updated: March 5, 2017
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

+

+

+

+ A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS. +

+

+
+

+

+ By David Lindsay +

+

+

+

+
+

+

+

+
+

+ CONTENTS +

+

+
+

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE +

+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+
+

+

+

+
+

+

+ +

+

+ Chapter 1. THE SÉANCE +

+

+ On a March evening, at eight o’clock, Backhouse, the medium—a + fast-rising star in the psychic world—was ushered into the study at + Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was + illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him with + indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings were + exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his guest, + the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The electric + light was switched on. Faull’s prominent, clear-cut features, + metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not + seem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men from + a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the + merchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the + smoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the + pointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view + of the morbid nature of his occupation. +

+

+ “Do you smoke?” drawled Faull, by way of starting the + conversation. “No? Then will you take a drink?” +

+

+ “Not at present, I thank you.” +

+

+ A pause. +

+

+ “Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?” +

+

+ “I see no reason to doubt it.” +

+

+ “That’s good, for I would not like my guests to be + disappointed. I have your check written out in my pocket.” +

+

+ “Afterward will do quite well.” +

+

+ “Nine o’clock was the time specified, I believe?” +

+

+ “I fancy so.” +

+

+ The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and + remained apathetic. +

+

+ “Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?” +

+

+ “I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.” +

+

+ “I mean the decoration of the séance room, the music, and so forth.” +

+

+ Backhouse stared at his host. “But this is not a theatrical + performance.” +

+

+ “That’s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be + ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.” +

+

+ “In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the + performance to the end.” +

+

+ He spoke rather dryly. +

+

+ “Well, that’s all right, then,” said Faull. Flicking his + cigar into the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. +

+

+ “Will you come and see the room?” +

+

+ “Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time + arrives.” +

+

+ “Then let’s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the + drawing room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as + I am unmarried.” +

+

+ “I will be delighted,” said Backhouse coldly. +

+

+ They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive + attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium took + in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands, and + wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely, with + just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at the hands + of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them. +

+

+ “What amazes me,” she half whispered, after ten minutes of + graceful, hollow conversation, “is, if you must know it, not so much + the manifestation itself—though that will surely be wonderful—as + your assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your + confidence.” +

+

+ “I dream with open eyes,” he answered, looking around at the + door, “and others see my dreams. That is all.” +

+

+ “But that’s beautiful,” responded Mrs. Jameson. She + smiled rather absently, for the first guest had just entered. +

+

+ It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd judicial + humour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carry into + private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes were + still disconcertingly bright. With the selective skill of an old man, he + immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of many comfortable + chairs. +

+

+ “So we are to see wonders tonight?” +

+

+ “Fresh material for your autobiography,” remarked Faull. +

+

+ “Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old + public servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. + You have no cause for alarm—I have studied in the school of + discretion.” +

+

+ “I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your + publishing whatever you please.” +

+

+ “You are most kind,” said the old man, with a cunning smile. +

+

+ “Trent is not coming tonight,” remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing + a curious little glance at her brother. +

+

+ “I never thought he would. It’s not in his line.” +

+

+ “Mrs. Trent, you must understand,” she went on, addressing the + ex-magistrate, “has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has + decorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has secured + the services of the sweetest little orchestra.” +

+

+ “But this is Roman magnificence.” +

+

+ “Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference,” + laughed Faull. +

+

+ “Surely, Mr. Backhouse—a poetic environment...” +

+

+ “Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to + elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my opinion. + Nature is one thing, and art is another.” +

+

+ “And I am not sure that I don’t agree with you,” said + the ex-magistrate. “An occasion like this ought to be simple, to + guard against the possibility of deception—if you will forgive my + bluntness, Mr. Backhouse.” +

+

+ “We shall sit in full light,” replied Backhouse, “and + every opportunity will be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also + ask you to submit me to a personal examination.” +

+

+ A rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival of two + more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the prosperous City + coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well known in his own circle + as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted with the + latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine and tobacco + smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into the proceedings. + Finding that no one seconded his efforts, however, he shortly subsided and + fell to examining the water colours on the walls. Lang, tall, thin, and + growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse a good deal. +

+

+ Coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone partook, + except Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor Halbart was + announced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author and lecturer on + crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental aspects. + His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other guests, but + all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately acquired + additional solemnity. He was small, meagre-looking, and mild in manner, + but was probably the most stubborn-brained of all that mixed company. + Completely ignoring the medium, he at once sat down beside Kent-Smith, + with whom he began to exchange remarks. +

+

+ At a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered, unannounced. + She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a white, demure, saintlike + face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson and full that they seemed to + be bursting with blood. Her tall, graceful body was most expensively + attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs. Jameson. She bowed to + the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance and a smile at Faull. + The latter gave her a queer look, and Backhouse, who lost nothing, saw the + concealed barbarian in the complacent gleam of his eye. She refused the + refreshment that was offered her, and Faull proposed that, as everyone had + now arrived, they should adjourn to the lounge hall. +

+

+ Mrs. Trent held up a slender palm. “Did you, or did you not, give me + carte blanche, Montague?” +

+

+ “Of course I did,” said Faull, laughing. “But what’s + the matter?” +

+

+ “Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don’t know. I have + invited a couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... The two + most extraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I am sure.” +

+

+ “It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?” +

+

+ “At least tell us their names, you provoking girl,” put in + Mrs. Jameson. +

+

+ “One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of + Nightspore. That’s nearly all that I know about them, so don’t + overwhelm me with any more questions.” +

+

+ “But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up + somewhere.” +

+

+ “But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned against convention? + I swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be here + directly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy.” +

+

+ “I don’t know them,” said Faull, “and nobody else + seems to, but, of course, we will all be very pleased to have them.... + Shall we wait, or what?” +

+

+ “I said nine, and it’s past that now. It’s quite + possible they may not turn up after all.... Anyway, don’t wait.” +

+

+ “I would prefer to start at once,” said Backhouse. +

+

+ The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been divided + for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade curtain drawn + across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half had + been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There was no + other furniture. A large fire was burning halfway along the wall, between + the chairbacks and the door. The room was brilliantly lighted by electric + bracket lamps. A sumptuous carpet covered the floor. +

+

+ Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the curtain + and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury Lane + presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then + exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the + glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against the + latter, the gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A fantastically carved + wooden couch lay before the pedestal of the statue. Near the curtain, + obliquely placed to the auditorium, was a plain oak armchair, for the use + of the medium. +

+

+ Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite + inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of + ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual + compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of so + remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward and + examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and Lang + were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the + pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part + of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest of + his party and commenced a patient, systematic search, on his own account, + for secret apparatus. Faull and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of the + temple, talking together in low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, pretending to + hold Backhouse in conversation, watched them as only a deeply interested + woman knows how to watch. +

+

+ Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a suspicious + nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing should be searched. +

+

+ “All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in + hand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands, + however, that other people who are not present would not be able to say + afterward that trickery has been resorted to.” +

+

+ To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and + sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that nothing + mechanical was in Backhouse’s possession. The guests reseated + themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for Mrs. Trent’s + friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then pressed an electric + bell, and took his own seat. +

+

+ The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur of + surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, the + beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart’s “temple” music + pulsated through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, + beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was + deeply moved. It was evident that aesthetically she was by far the most + important person present. Faull watched her, with his face sunk on his + chest, sprawling as usual. +

+

+ Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began + speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so for as + long as he was on his legs. +

+

+ “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. + That means you will see something appear in space that was not previously + there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but finally it will be + a solid body, which anyone present may feel and handle—and, for + example, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape. It + will be a real man or woman—which, I can’t say—but a man + or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an + explanation of the origin of this materialised form—where it comes + from, whence the atoms and molecules composing its tissues are derived—I + am unable to satisfy you. I am about to produce the phenomenon; if anyone + can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very grateful.... That is all I + have to say.” +

+

+ He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused for + a moment before beginning his task. +

+

+ It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door and + announced in a subdued but distinct voice: “Mr. Maskull, Mr. + Nightspore.” +

+

+ Everyone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals. Backhouse + also stood up, and stared hard at them. +

+

+ The two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed quietly + behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild sensation caused by + their appearance to subside before advancing into the room. Maskull was a + kind of giant, but of broader and more robust physique than most giants. + He wore a full beard. His features were thick and heavy, coarsely + modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes, small and black, + sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity. His hair was short, + black, and bristling. Nightspore was of middle height, but so + tough-looking that he appeared to be trained out of all human frailties + and susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed by an intense + spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both men were + dressed in tweeds. +

+

+ Before any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling masonry + caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in consternation. + It sounded as if the entire upper part of the building had collapsed. + Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to say what was + happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he gathered what was + required of him. He said he had heard nothing. In obedience to his master’s + order, he went upstairs. Nothing, however, was amiss there, neither had + the maids heard anything. +

+

+ In the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had + preserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood gnawing + his nails. +

+

+ “Perhaps you can explain it, sir?” +

+

+ “It was supernatural,” said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled + voice, turning away from his questioner. +

+

+ “I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard + it so loud.” +

+

+ He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled + down, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured + interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness. + Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent kept + stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout the entire incident, Mozart’s + hymn continued to be played. The orchestra also had heard nothing. +

+

+ Backhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be familiar to + him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not possible to effect + the materialisation by mere concentration of will, or the exercise of any + faculty; otherwise many people could have done what he had engaged himself + to do. His nature was phenomenal—the dividing wall between himself + and the spiritual world was broken in many places. Through the gaps in his + mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he summoned them, passed for a + moment timidly and awfully into the solid, coloured universe.... He could + not say how it was brought about.... The experience was a rough one for + the body, and many such struggles would lead to insanity and early death. + That is why Backhouse was stern and abrupt in his manner. The coarse, + clumsy suspicion of some of the witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of + others, were equally obnoxious to his grim, bursting heart; but he was + obliged to live, and, to pay his way, must put up with these + impertinences. +

+

+ He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed to + look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The + spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began + to feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull’s + eyes glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but + Nightspore appeared bored. +

+

+ After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become + slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the + ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and + thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and held + his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his nose. +

+

+ By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline + of an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It + hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse looked + haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair, but she + was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled down upon + the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, + solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the medium himself, + but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once or twice at Mrs. + Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was twisting a little + lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her hand. The music + went on playing. +

+

+ The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The + face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of + shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand fell + over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker spirits + of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest were grave + and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did not + appear like a death succeeding life, but like a death preliminary to life. + All felt that he might sit up at any minute. +

+

+ “Stop that music!” muttered Backhouse, tottering from his + chair and facing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars + sounded, and then total silence ensued. +

+

+ “Anyone who wants to may approach the couch,” said Backhouse + with difficulty. +

+

+ Lang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural youth. +

+

+ “You are at liberty to touch,” said the medium. +

+

+ But Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by one + stole up to the couch—until it came to Faull’s turn. He looked + straight at Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the + spectacle before her, and then not only touched the apparition but + suddenly grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful + squeeze. Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened his + eyes, looked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A cryptic smile + started playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his hand; a feeling of + intense pleasure passed through his body. +

+

+ Maskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another spell + of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the room. Neither + of them returned. +

+

+ The phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his + peculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other men more + or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but Nightspore paced + up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while Maskull attempted to + interrogate the youth. The apparition watched him with a baffling + expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was sitting apart, his face + buried in his hands. +

+

+ It was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a + stranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the room, + and then stopped. None of Faull’s friends had ever seen him before. + He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular development and a + head far too large in proportion to his body. His beardless yellow face + indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of sagacity, brutality, and + humour. +

+

+ “Aha-i, gentlemen!” he called out loudly. His voice was + piercing, and oddly disagreeable to the ear. “So we have a little + visitor here.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder in + astonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought him to the + edge of the theatre. +

+

+ “May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?” + asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding as + smoothly as he had anticipated. +

+

+ The newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great, + roaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully—but the play + was rather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the wall + before he could recover his balance. +

+

+ “Good evening, my host!” +

+

+ “And good evening to you too, my lad!” he went on, addressing + the supernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in + apparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. “I have seen someone + very like you before, I think.” +

+

+ There was no response. +

+

+ The intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom’s face. + “You have no right here, as you know.” +

+

+ The shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, which, + however, no one could understand. +

+

+ “Be careful what you are doing,” said Backhouse quickly. +

+

+ “What’s the matter, spirit usher?” +

+

+ “I don’t know who you are, but if you use physical violence + toward that, as you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove + very unpleasant.” +

+

+ “And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn’t + it, my little mercenary friend?” +

+

+ Humour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, leaving it + hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, he encircled the + soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his hairy hands and, with + a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint, unearthly shriek + sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its face was uppermost. + The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that its expression had + changed from the mysterious but fascinating smile to a vulgar, sordid, + bestial grin, which cast a cold shadow of moral nastiness into every + heart. The transformation was accompanied by a sickening stench of the + graveyard. +

+

+ The features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, passing + from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two minutes had + elapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared. +

+

+ The short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud + laugh, like nothing in nature. +

+

+ The professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull beckoned + Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check without a + word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and walked out + of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a drink. +

+

+ The stranger poked his face up into Maskull’s. +

+

+ “Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn’t you like + to see the land where this sort of fruit grows wild?” +

+

+ “What sort of fruit?” +

+

+ “That specimen goblin.” +

+

+ Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. “Who are you, and how did + you come here?” +

+

+ “Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me.” Nightspore + had moved a chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, + fanatical expression. +

+

+ “Let Krag come to me, if he wants me,” he said, in his strange + voice. +

+

+ “You see, he does know me,” uttered Krag, with a humorous + look. Walking over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. +

+

+ “Still the same old gnawing hunger?” +

+

+ “What is doing these days?” demanded Nightspore disdainfully, + without altering his attitude. +

+

+ “Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him.” +

+

+ “How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you + speaking?” asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in + perplexity. +

+

+ “Krag has something for us. Let us go outside,” replied + Nightspore. He got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following + the direction of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were + watching their little group attentively. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 2. IN THE STREET +

+

+ The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was + slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The + multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll of + hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly excited; he had a sense that + something extraordinary was about to happen. “What brought you to + this house tonight, Krag, and what made you do what you did? How are we + understand that apparition?” +

+

+ “That must have been Crystalman’s expression on its face,” + muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “We have discussed that, haven’t we, Maskull? Maskull is + anxious to behold that rare fruit in its native wilds.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings + toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man’s personality, yet + side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring + up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag. +

+

+ “Why do you insist on this simile?” he asked. +

+

+ “Because it is apropos. Nightspore’s quite right. That was + Crystalman’s face, and we are going to Crystalman’s country.” +

+

+ “And where is this mysterious country?” +

+

+ “Tormance.” +

+

+ “That’s a quaint name. But where is it?” +

+

+ Krag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street lamp. +

+

+ “It is the residential suburb of Arcturus.” +

+

+ “What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of + that name?” he went on, to Krag. +

+

+ “Which you have in front of you at this very minute,” said + Krag, pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the + south-eastern sky. “There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one + inhabited planet.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaming star, and again at Krag. Then he + pulled out a pipe, and began to fill it. +

+

+ “You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag.” +

+

+ “I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days.” +

+

+ “I meant to ask you—how do you know my name?” +

+

+ “It would be odd if I didn’t, seeing that I only came here on + your account. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends.” +

+

+ Maskull paused with his suspended match. “You came here on my + account?” +

+

+ “Surely. On your account and Nightspore’s. We three are to be + fellow travellers.” +

+

+ Maskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments. +

+

+ “I’m sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad.” +

+

+ Krag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. “Am I mad, + Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Has Surtur gone to Tormance?” ejaculated Nightspore in a + strangled voice, fixing his eyes on Krag’s face. +

+

+ “Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once.” +

+

+ Maskull’s heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like + a dream conversation. +

+

+ “And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things + by a total stranger.... Besides, who is this individual?” +

+

+ “Krag’s chief,” said Nightspore, turning his head away. +

+

+ “The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up.” +

+

+ “You are looking for mysteries,” said Krag, “so + naturally you are finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. + The affair is plain and serious.” +

+

+ Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. +

+

+ “Where have you come from now?” demanded Nightspore suddenly. +

+

+ “From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the + famous Starkness Observatory, Maskull?” +

+

+ “No. Where is it?” +

+

+ “On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made + there from time to time.” +

+

+ “As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur + turns out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?” +

+

+ Krag grinned again. “How long will it take you to wind up your + affairs? When can you be ready to start?” +

+

+ “You are too considerate,” said Maskull, laughing outright. + “I was beginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... + However, I have neither wife, land, nor profession, so there’s + nothing to wait for.... What is the itinerary?” +

+

+ “You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no encumbrances.” + Krag’s features became suddenly grave and rigid. “Don’t + be a fool, and refuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not offered a + second time.” +

+

+ “Krag,” replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his + pocket. “I ask you to put yourself in my place. Even if I were a man + sick for adventures, how could I listen seriously to such an insane + proposition as this? What do I know about you, or your past record? You + may be a practical joker, or you may have come out of a madhouse—I + know nothing about it. If you claim to be an exceptional man, and want my + cooperation, you must offer me exceptional proofs.” +

+

+ “And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?” +

+

+ As he spoke he gripped Maskull’s arm. A sharp, chilling pain + immediately passed through the latter’s body and at the same moment + his brain caught fire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of the + sun. He asked himself for the first time if this fantastic conversation + could by any chance refer to real things. +

+

+ “Listen, Krag,” he said slowly, while peculiar images and + conceptions started to travel in rich disorder through his mind. “You + talk about a certain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, + and I were given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come + back. For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my + life. That is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me that you’re + not talking nonsense. Produce your credentials.” +

+

+ Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually + resuming its jesting expression. +

+

+ “Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but + not much longer. You’re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip + will prove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the + unbelievers of old, you want a sign from heaven?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are + overexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep + it off.” +

+

+ Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with + the other. He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens. + The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches. +

+

+ “First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve + as a provisional sign. It’s the best I can do, unfortunately. I am + not a travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It’s + somewhat heavy.” +

+

+ Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and + then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least + twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece. +

+

+ “What stuff can this be, Krag?” +

+

+ “Look through it, my good friend. That’s what I gave it to you + for.” +

+

+ Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming + Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the + muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which to + the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became + clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was + still yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But this + was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a + comparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed to + shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and + raised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and + again, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens + to Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip. +

+

+ “You take a glimpse too,” scraped Krag, proffering the glass + to Nightspore. +

+

+ Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up and down. Krag laughed + sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. “Well, Maskull, + are you satisfied?” +

+

+ “Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet + Tormance?” +

+

+ “Our future home, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull continued to ponder. “You inquire if I am satisfied. I don’t + know, Krag. It’s miraculous, and that’s all I can say about + it.... But I’m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful + astronomers at Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will + surely come.” +

+

+ “I do invite you. We set off from there.” +

+

+ “And you, Nightspore?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “The journey has to be made,” answered his friend in + indistinct tones, “though I don’t see what will come of it.” +

+

+ Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. “More remarkable adventures + than this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore.” +

+

+ “Yet he is coming.” +

+

+ “But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company.” +

+

+ Maskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary might, + in the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart swelled with + grand and painful longings, for which, however, he was unable to account + to his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was in some way bound up + with this gigantic, far-distant sun. But still he did not dare to admit to + himself Krag’s seriousness. +

+

+ He heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the lapse + of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise that they + referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and times of trains. +

+

+ “Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn’t catch + that.” +

+

+ “No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of + the day after tomorrow.” +

+

+ Maskull remained thoughtful. “What am I to think of that man?” +

+

+ “For your information,” replied Nightspore wearily, “I + have never known him to lie.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 3. STARKNESS +

+

+ A couple of days later, at two o’clock in the afternoon, Maskull and + Nightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven + miles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, ran + for the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty cliffs, + within sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk east wind was + blowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green waves were flecked + with white. Throughout the walk, they were accompanied by the plaintive, + beautiful crying of the gulls. +

+

+ The observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained little + community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end of the land. + There were three buildings: a small, stone-built dwelling house, a low + workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther north, a square tower of + granite masonry, seventy feet in height. +

+

+ The house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with + waste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side facing the + sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the cliff. No one + appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull could have sworn that + the whole establishment was shut up and deserted. +

+

+ He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked + vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had + obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but + could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the + door was looked. +

+

+ They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there was + only the one door. +

+

+ “This isn’t promising,” growled Maskull. “There’s + no one here..... Now you try the shed, while I go over to that tower.” +

+

+ Nightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the train, + complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull passed out + of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the tower, which stood + some way back from the cliff, he found the door heavily padlocked. Gazing + up, he saw six windows, one above the other at equal distances, all on the + east face—that is, overlooking the sea. Realising that no + satisfaction was to be gained here, he came away again, still more + irritated than before. When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore reported + that the workshop was also locked. +

+

+ “Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?” demanded + Maskull energetically. +

+

+ “The house is empty,” replied Nightspore, biting his nails. + “Better break a window.” +

+

+ “I certainly don’t mean to camp out till Krag condescends to + come.” +

+

+ He picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe + distance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The lower + pane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, + Maskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back the frame + fastening. A minute later they had climbed through and were standing + inside the house. +

+

+ The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and + neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken utensils + and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, everything was + covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was so foul that + Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room for several + months. Insects were crawling on the walls. +

+

+ They went into the other rooms on the lower floor—a scullery, a + barely furnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The same + dirt, mustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a year must + have elapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even entered. +

+

+ “Does your faith in Krag still hold?” asked Maskull. “I + confess mine is at vanishing point. If this affair isn’t one big + practical joke, it has every promise of being one. Krag never lived here + in his life.” +

+

+ “Come upstairs first,” said Nightspore. +

+

+ The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. All + the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The beds + had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been made + since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually preserved the + impressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that these impressions + were ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had accumulated on the sheets + and coverlets. +

+

+ “Who could have slept here, do you think?” interrogated + Maskull. “The observatory staff?” +

+

+ “More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly.” +

+

+ Maskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and held his + breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the sea; the third, + the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This library was now the only + room left unvisited, and unless they discovered signs of recent occupation + here Maskull made up his mind to regard the whole business as a gigantic + hoax. +

+

+ But the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air and + dust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell heavily + into an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend. +

+

+ “Now what is your opinion of Krag?” +

+

+ Nightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the window. + “He may still have left a message for us.” +

+

+ “What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?—I see no + message.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger + upon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old bottles on + one of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at him and at the + cupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine the bottles. +

+

+ There were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. The + smaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo-shaped, but + had flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand upright. Two of the + smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the others contained a colourless + liquid, and possessed queer-looking, nozzle-like stoppers that were + connected by a thin metal rod with a catch halfway down the side of the + bottle. They were labelled, but the labels were yellow with age and the + writing was nearly undecipherable. Maskull carried the filled bottles with + him to the table in front of the window, in order to get better light. + Nightspore moved away to make room for him. +

+

+ He now made out on the larger bottle the words “Solar Back Rays”; + and on the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could + distinguish something like “Arcturian Back Rays.” +

+

+ He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. “Have you been here + before, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “I guessed Krag would leave a message.” +

+

+ “Well, I don’t know—it may be a message, but it means + nothing to us, or at all events to me. What are ‘back rays’?” +

+

+ “Light that goes back to its source,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “And what kind of light would that be?” +

+

+ Nightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull’s eyes + still fixed on him, he brought out: “Unless light pulled, as well as + pushed, how would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after the + sun?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?” +

+

+ While he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the + other, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such a + manner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement to stop + it, his hand was actually descending, when—the bottle suddenly + disappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the table, but had + really vanished—it was nowhere at all. +

+

+ Maskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and + turned to Nightspore with a smile. “The message grows more + intricate.” +

+

+ Nightspore looked bored. “The valve became unfastened. The contents + have escaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the bottle + with them. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth’s + atmosphere, and the contents will dissipate, and will not reach the sun.” +

+

+ Maskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. “Does anything + prevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?” +

+

+ “Replace it in the cupboard,” said Nightspore. “Arcturus + is still below the horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the + house.” +

+

+ Maskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at the + sunlit moors. +

+

+ “Krag treats me like a child,” he remarked presently. “And + perhaps I really am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to + Krag. But why does he leave me to find out all this by myself—for I + don’t include you, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?” +

+

+ “Not before dark, I expect,” his friend replied. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 4. THE VOICE +

+

+ It was by this time past three o’clock. Feeling hungry, for they had + eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage, but + without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a safe in + the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was untouchable, + a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and an unopened can of + ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he came across an + uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once made preparations + for a scratch meal. +

+

+ A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it, and + he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of the + kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood made a + good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were procured and + washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the library. +

+

+ Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good appetite. + There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly black tea was + mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this concoction Maskull + drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had disappeared he was + still imbibing. +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him queerly. “Do you intend to finish the + bottle before Krag comes?” +

+

+ “Krag won’t want any, and one must do something. I feel + restless.” +

+

+ “Let us take a look at the country.” +

+

+ The cup, which was on its way to Maskull’s lips, remained poised in + the air. “Have you anything in view, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “A showplace,” answered Nightspore, biting his lip. +

+

+ Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. “Walking is + better than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How + far is it?” +

+

+ “Three or four miles each way.” +

+

+ “You probably mean something,” said Maskull, “for I’m + beginning to regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I + am growing nervous, and need incidents.” +

+

+ They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately + found themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from + Haillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower. +

+

+ Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest. + “What is that tower, Nightspore?” +

+

+ “We sail from the platform on the top.” +

+

+ “Tonight?”—throwing him a quick look. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. “Then we are looking at the + gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it.” +

+

+ “You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,” mumbled + Nightspore. +

+

+ After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved + sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it + and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way along the cliff + edge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The + two men then had some rough walking up and down hillsides and across deep + gullies. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and twilight imperceptibly + came on. They soon reached a spot where further progress appeared + impossible. The buttress of a mountain descended at a steep angle to the + very edge of the cliff, forming an impassable slope of slippery grass. + Maskull halted, stroked his beard, and wondered what the next step was to + be. +

+

+ “There’s a little scrambling here,” said Nightspore. + “We are both used to climbing, and there is not much in it.” +

+

+ He indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice a few + yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from fifteen to thirty + inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull’s consent to the + undertaking, he instantly swung himself down and started walking along + this ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing that there was no help for it, + followed him. The shelf did not extend for above a quarter of a mile, but + its passage was somewhat unnerving; there was a sheer drop to the sea, + four hundred feet below. In a few places they had to sidle along without + placing one foot before another. The sound of the breakers came up to them + in a low, threatening roar. +

+

+ Upon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized platform + of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea separated them + from the continuation of the cliffs beyond. +

+

+ “As we can’t get any further,” said Maskull, “I + presume this is your Gap of Sorgie?” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and + then lying at full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders + over the edge and began to stare straight down at the water. +

+

+ “What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?” +

+

+ Receiving no reply, however, he followed his friend’s example, and + the next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom + had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was + ineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a drum on + the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but quite distinct. + The beats were in four-four time, with the third beat slightly accented. + He now continued to hear the noise all the time he was lying there. The + beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the surf, but + seemed somehow to belong to a different world.... +

+

+ When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. “We + came here solely to hear that?” +

+

+ Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. “It’s called + locally ‘The Drum Taps of Sorgie.’ You will not hear that name + again, but perhaps you will hear the sound again.” +

+

+ “And if I do, what will it imply?” demanded Maskull in + amazement. +

+

+ “It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more + distinctly.... Now it’s growing dark, and we must get back.” +

+

+ Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It was + past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore’s words, and not of + the time. +

+
+

+ Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black + sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the + sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base of + the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was open. He + caught hold of Nightspore’s arm violently. “Look! Krag is + back.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must make haste to the house.” +

+

+ “And why not the tower? He’s probably in there, since the gate + is open. I’m going up to look.” +

+

+ Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. +

+

+ All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the + flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone + steps. “Are you coming up?” he asked. +

+

+ “No, I’ll wait here.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen + steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath. He + seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he + proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing, grew + worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his lungs + could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a ship’s + engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he completed + the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with the first + window, which was set in a high embrasure. +

+

+ Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and climbed + into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see something + from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the window at the + stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it was not a window + at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of space containing a + multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused only in one part, + where two very bright stars, like small moons in size, appeared in close + conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary object, as brilliant as + Venus and with an observable disk. One of the suns shone with a glaring + white light; the other was a weird and awful blue. Their light, though + almost solar in intensity, did not illuminate the interior of the tower. +

+

+ Maskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was gazing was + what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He had seen the sight + before, through Krag’s glass, but then the scale had been smaller, + the colors of the twin suns had not appeared in their naked reality.... + These colors seemed to him most marvellous, as if, in seeing them through + earth eyes, he was not seeing them correctly.... But it was at Tormance + that he stared the longest and the most earnestly. On that mysterious and + terrible earth, countless millions of miles distant, it had been promised + him that he would set foot, even though he might leave his bones there. + The strange creatures that he was to behold and touch were already living, + at this very moment. +

+

+ A low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard away. + “Don’t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an + instrument, to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when + he wakes you must die. You will go, but he will return.” +

+

+ Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was + in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. +

+

+ The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he redescended + to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his sensation of weight + was instantly removed, but he continued panting and palpitating, like a + man who has lifted a far too heavy load. +

+

+ Nightspore’s dark form came forward. “Was Krag there?” +

+

+ “If he was, I didn’t see him. But I heard someone speak.” +

+

+ “Was it Krag?” +

+

+ “It was not Krag—but a voice warned me against you.” +

+

+ “Yes, you will hear these voices too,” said Nightspore + enigmatically. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE +

+

+ When they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and the + door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not there. + Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every room—at + the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the man they were + expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the premises. Groping their + way into the library, they sat down in the total darkness to wait, for + nothing else remained to be done. Maskull lit his pipe, and began to drink + the remainder of the whisky. Through the open window sounded in their ears + the trainlike grinding of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. +

+

+ “Krag must be in the tower after all,” remarked Maskull, + breaking the silence. +

+

+ “Yes, he is getting ready.” +

+

+ “I hope he doesn’t expect us to join him there. It was beyond + my powers—but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic + pull of some sort.” +

+

+ “It is Tormantic gravity,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “I understand you—or, rather, I don’t—but it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ He went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the neat + liquor. “Who is Surtur?” he demanded abruptly. +

+

+ “We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master.” +

+

+ Maskull digested this. “I fancy you are right, for though I know + nothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you + personally acquainted with him?” +

+

+ “I must be... I forget...” replied Nightspore in a choking + voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the blackness + of the room. +

+

+ “Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of + them?... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where we are + going?” +

+

+ “You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions—I + can’t answer them.” +

+

+ “Then let us go on waiting for Krag,” said Maskull coldly. +

+

+ Ten minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep was + heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating heart. +

+

+ Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly + glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and + forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he + strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light hardly + served to illuminate the walls. +

+

+ “You have got here, then, Maskull?” +

+

+ “So it seems—but I shan’t thank you for your + hospitality, for it has been conspicuous by its absence.” +

+

+ Krag ignored the remark. “Are you ready to start?” +

+

+ “By all means—when you are. It is not so entertaining here.” +

+

+ Krag surveyed him critically. “I heard you stumbling about in the + tower. You couldn’t get up, it seems.” +

+

+ “It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start + takes place from the top.” +

+

+ “But your other doubts are all removed?” +

+

+ “So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing + to see what you can do.” +

+

+ “Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that + until you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the + gravitation of Tormance?” +

+

+ “Then I repeat, it’s an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can’t + get up.” +

+

+ Krag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp knife. +

+

+ “Remove your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve,” he + directed. +

+

+ “Do you propose to make an incision with that?” +

+

+ “Yes, and don’t start difficulties, because the effect is + certain, but you can’t possibly understand it beforehand.” +

+

+ “Still, a cut with a pocket-knife—” began Maskull, + laughing. +

+

+ “It will answer, Maskull,” interrupted Nightspore. +

+

+ “Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe,” said + Krag. “Let us see what your blood is made of.” +

+

+ Nightspore obeyed. +

+

+ Krag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and almost + savage slash at Maskull’s upper arm. The wound was deep, and blood + flowed freely. +

+

+ “Do I bind it up?” asked Maskull, scowling with pain. +

+

+ Krag spat on the wound. “Pull your shirt down, it won’t bleed + any more.” +

+

+ He then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation with + grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor. +

+

+ An awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through Maskull’s + body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to faint, but it + subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing but a gnawing ache + in the injured arm, just strong enough to make life one long discomfort. +

+

+ “That’s finished,” said Krag. “Now you can follow + me.” +

+

+ Picking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others hastened + after him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment later their + footsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, resounded through the + deserted house. Krag waited till they were out, and then banged the front + door after them with such violence that the windows shook. +

+

+ While they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught his + arm. “I heard a voice up those stairs.” +

+

+ “What did it say?” +

+

+ “That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return.” +

+

+ Krag smiled. “The journey is getting notorious,” he remarked, + after a pause. “There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you + want to return?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious + enough to be mentioned.” +

+

+ “It is not a bad thing to hear voices,” said Krag, “but + you mustn’t for a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you + out of the night world.” +

+

+ When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately set + foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up, bearing + the lantern. Maskull followed him with some trepidation, in view of his + previous painful experience on these stairs, but when, after the first + half-dozen steps, he discovered that he was still breathing freely, his + dread changed to relief and astonishment, and he could have chattered like + a girl. +

+

+ At the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stopping, but + Maskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his acquaintance + with the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. The lens had lost + its magic property. It had become a common sheet of glass, through which + the ordinary sky field appeared. +

+

+ The climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again mounted + and stared out, but still the common sights presented themselves. After + that, he gave up and looked through no more windows. +

+

+ Krag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so that he + had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the top, he saw + yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened door. His + companions were standing just inside a small room, shut off from the + staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely furnished and contained + nothing of astronomical interest. The lantern was resting on a table. +

+

+ Maskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. “Are we at + the top?” +

+

+ “Except for the platform over our heads,” replied Krag. +

+

+ “Why didn’t that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in + the evening?” +

+

+ “Oh, you missed your opportunity,” said Krag, grinning. + “If you had finished your climb then, you would have seen + heart-expanding sights. From the fifth window, for example, you would have + seen Tormance like a continent in relief; from the sixth you would have + seen it like a landscape.... But now there’s no need.” +

+

+ “Why not—and what has need got to do with it?” +

+

+ “Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the + same reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no + necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route.” +

+

+ “Very well,” said Maskull, not quite understanding what he + meant. “But is this Surtur’s den?” +

+

+ “He has spent time here.” +

+

+ “I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may + not get another chance.” +

+

+ “What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There’s + no need to waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately + going on to the reality.” +

+

+ “Then let us go.” He pressed his eyeballs wearily. +

+

+ “Do we strip?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “Naturally,” answered Krag, and he began to tear off his + clothes with slow, uncouth movements. +

+

+ “Why?” demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of + the other two men. +

+

+ Krag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like an + ape’s. “Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may + sprout limbs—I don’t say we shall.” +

+

+ “A-ha!” exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his + undressing. +

+

+ Krag smote him on the back. “New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. + You like that?” +

+

+ The three men stood as nature made them. Maskull’s spirits rose + fast, as the moment of departure drew near. +

+

+ “A farewell drink to success!” cried Krag, seizing a bottle + and breaking its head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, but + he poured the amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups. +

+

+ Perceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It was as + if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag dropped onto + the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his legs in the air. He + tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a little horseplay went on + between the two. Nightspore took no part in it, but walked to and fro, + like a hungry caged animal. +

+

+ Suddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, piercing wail, + such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It ceased abruptly, and was + not repeated. +

+

+ “What’s that?” called out Maskull, disengaging himself + impatiently from Krag. +

+

+ Krag rocked with laughter. “A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce + the bagpipes of its earth life—in honour of our departure.” +

+

+ Nightspore turned to Krag. “Maskull will sleep throughout the + journey?” +

+

+ “And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you + passengers can amuse yourselves as you please.” +

+

+ “Are we off at last?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a + Rubicon!... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so to + arrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours.” +

+

+ “Then you assert that Surtur is already there?” +

+

+ “Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller.” +

+

+ “Won’t I see him?” +

+

+ Krag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t forget + that you have asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will + know more about him than you do, but your memory will be your worst + friend.” +

+
+

+ He led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the flat + roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric torch. +

+

+ Maskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey them + through the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet long, eight + wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian back rays was in + front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was directed toward the + south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon a flat platform, raised + about four feet above the level of the roof, so as to encounter no + obstruction on starting its flight. +

+

+ Krag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them to enter. + Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the gigantic, + far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now onward. He frowned, + shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. Krag clambered past them + onto his pilot’s seat. He threw the flashlight through the open + door, which was then carefully closed, fastened, and screwed up. +

+

+ He pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its platform, + and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its speed increased + sensibly, though not excessively, until the approximate limits of the + earth’s atmosphere were reached. Krag then released the speed valve, + and the car sped on its way with a velocity more nearly approaching that + of thought than of light. +

+

+ Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the + rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness oppressed + him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the thirteenth + attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily. +

+

+ The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore’s face. The + alterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least + interest for him. +

+

+ Krag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness his + phosphorescent charts and gauges. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 6. JOIWIND +

+

+ IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind was + blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never + experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was + unable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A numbing pain, + which he could not identify with any region of his frame, acted from now + onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his other sensations. It gnawed + away at him continuously; sometimes it embittered and irritated him, at + other times he forgot it. +

+

+ He felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he discovered + there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, having a cavity in + the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. Then he also became + aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, an inch below the ear. +

+

+ From the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long as his + arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible. +

+

+ As soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new organs, + his heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be their use, they + proved one thing—that he was in a new world. +

+

+ One part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull cried out + to his companions, but received no response. This frightened him. He went + on shouting out, at irregular intervals—equally alarmed at the + silence and at the sound of his own voice. Finally, as no answering hail + came, he thought it wiser not to make too much noise, and after that he + lay quiet, waiting in cold blood for what might happen. +

+

+ In a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were not + his friends. +

+

+ A pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black night, + while in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one would have said + that day was breaking. The brightness went on imperceptibly increasing for + a very long time. +

+

+ Maskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the sand + was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with black stems + and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible. +

+

+ The day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before long + the brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the midday + sun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull welcomed it—it + relieved his pain and diminished his sense of crushing weight. The wind + had dropped with the rising of the sun. +

+

+ He now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. He was + unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially dissolved, and all + that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of red sand dotted with ten + or twenty bushes. +

+

+ He felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started forward in + nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the sand. Looking up + over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see a woman standing beside + him. +

+

+ She was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather + classically draped. According to earth standards she was not beautiful, + for, although her face was otherwise human, she was endowed—or + afflicted—with the additional disfiguring organs that Maskull had + discovered in himself. She also possessed the heart tentacle. But when he + sat up, and their eyes met and remained in sympathetic contact, he seemed + to see right into a soul that was the home of love, warmth, kindness, + tenderness, and intimacy. Such was the noble familiarity of that gaze, + that he thought he knew her. After that, he recognised all the loveliness + of her person. She was tall and slight. All her movements were as graceful + as music. Her skin was not of a dead, opaque colour, like that of an earth + beauty, but was opalescent; its hue was continually changing, with every + thought and emotion, but none of these tints was vivid—all were + delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very long, loosely plaited, + flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull had familiarised himself + with them, imparted something to her face that was unique and striking. He + could not quite define it to himself, but subtlety and inwardness seemed + added. The organs did not contradict the love of her eyes or the angelic + purity of her features, but nevertheless sounded a deeper note—a + note that saved her from mere girlishness. +

+

+ Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely any + humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised his + plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying over + her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a darker, more + masculine colour. +

+

+ “Do you think you can put it on by yourself?” +

+

+ He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not sounded. +

+

+ He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the + complications of the drapery. +

+

+ “Poor man—how you are suffering!” she said, in the same + inaudible language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she + said was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead. +

+

+ “Where am I? Is this Tormance?” he asked. As he spoke, he + staggered. +

+

+ She caught him, and helped him to sit down. “Yes. You are with + friends.” +

+

+ Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in English. + Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so fresh, nervous, + and girlish. “I can now understand your language. It was strange at + first. In the future I’ll speak to you with my mouth.” +

+

+ “This is extraordinary! What is this organ?” he asked, + touching his forehead. +

+

+ “It is named the ‘breve.’ By means of it we read one + another’s thoughts. Still, speech is better, for then the heart can + be read too.” +

+

+ He smiled. “They say that speech is given us to deceive others.” +

+

+ “One can deceive with thought, too. But I’m thinking of the + best, not the worst.” +

+

+ “Have you seen my friends?” +

+

+ She scrutinised him quietly, before answering. “Did you not come + alone?” +

+

+ “I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost + consciousness on arrival, and I haven’t seen them since.” +

+

+ “That’s very strange! No, I haven’t seen them. They can’t + be here, or we would have known it. My husband and I—” +

+

+ “What is your name, and your husband’s name?” +

+

+ “Mine is Joiwind—my husband’s is Panawe. We live a very + long way from here; still, it came to us both last night that you were + lying here insensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come + to you, but in the end I won.” Here she laughed. “I won, + because I am the stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in + perception.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind!” said Maskull simply. +

+

+ The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. “Oh, why do + you say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at + the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood.” +

+

+ “What is this?” he demanded, rather puzzled. +

+

+ “It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world. + Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.” +

+

+ Maskull flushed. “I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won’t + it hurt you?” +

+

+ “If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will + share the pain.” +

+

+ “This is a new kind of hospitality to me,” he muttered. +

+

+ “Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” asked Joiwind, half + smiling, half agitated. +

+

+ “I can’t answer for any of my actions in this world. I + scarcely know where I am.... Why, yes—of course I would, Joiwind.” +

+

+ While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled away + from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog-charged. The + desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, except one, where + there was a sort of little oasis—some low hills, clothed sparsely + with little purple trees from base to summit. It was about a quarter of a + mile distant. +

+

+ Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of + nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull + expostulated. +

+

+ “Really, this part of it is nothing,” she said, laughing. + “And if it were—a sacrifice that is no sacrifice—what + merit is there in that?... Come now—your arm!” +

+

+ The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a milky, + opalescent fluid. +

+

+ “Not that one!” said Maskull, shrinking. “I have already + been cut there.” He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth. +

+

+ Joiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds + together, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull’s + for a long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through + the incision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. After + about five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he wanted to + remove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his way, but it was + none too soon—she stood there pale and dispirited. +

+

+ She looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if + strange depths had opened up before her eyes. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “Where have you come from, with this awful blood?” +

+

+ “From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for + this world, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I am + sorry I let you have your way.” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t say that! There was nothing else to be done. We + must all help one another. Yet, somehow—forgive me—I feel + polluted.” +

+

+ “And well you may, for it’s a fearful thing for a girl to + accept in her own veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. + If I had not been so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it.” +

+

+ “But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? Why + did you come here, Maskull?” +

+

+ He was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. “Will you + think it foolish if I say I hardly know?—I came with those two men. + Perhaps I was attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of + adventure.” +

+

+ “Perhaps,” said Joiwind. “I wonder... These friends of + yours must be terrible men. Why did they come?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur.” +

+

+ Her face grew troubled. “I don’t understand it. One of them at + least must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur—or + Shaping, as he is called here—he can’t be really bad.” +

+

+ “What do you know of Surtur?” asked Maskull in astonishment. +

+

+ Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved + restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. “I see.... + and yet I don’t see,” she said at last. “It is very + difficult.... Your God is a dreadful Being—bodyless, unfriendly, + invisible. Here we don’t worship a God like that. Tell me, has any + man set eyes on your God?” +

+

+ “What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?” +

+

+ “I want to know.” +

+

+ “In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy + men are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are + past.” +

+

+ “Our world is still young,” said Joiwind. “Shaping goes + among us and converses with us. He is real and active—a friend and + lover. Shaping made us, and he loves his work.” +

+

+ “Have you met him?” demanded Maskull, hardly believing + his ears. +

+

+ “No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an + opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting and + talking with Shaping.” +

+

+ “I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is + the same as Surtur?” +

+

+ “Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, + but a few name him Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nail. “Have you ever heard of Crystalman?” +

+

+ “That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names—which + shows how much he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of affection.” +

+

+ “It’s odd,” said Maskull. “I came here with quite + different ideas about Crystalman.” +

+

+ Joiwind shook her hair. “In that grove of trees over there stands a + desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we’ll go on + our way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It’s a long way off, and we + must get there before Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Now, what is Blodsombre?” +

+

+ “For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell’s + rays are so hot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre.” +

+

+ “Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?” +

+

+ Joiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. “Naturally we don’t + take our names from you, Maskull. I don’t think our names are very + poetic, but they follow nature.” +

+

+ She took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the + tree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the upper + mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from a furnace, + struck Maskull’s head. He involuntarily looked up, but lowered his + eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that instant was a glaring + ball of electric white, three times the apparent diameter of the sun. For + a few minutes he was quite blind. +

+

+ “My God!” he exclaimed. “If it’s like this in + early morning you must be right enough about Blodsombre.” When he + had somewhat recovered himself he asked, “How long are the days + here, Joiwind?” +

+

+ Again he felt his brain being probed. +

+

+ “At this time of the year, for every hour’s daylight that you + have in summer, we have two.” +

+

+ “The heat is terrific—and yet somehow I don’t feel so + distressed by it as I would have expected.” +

+

+ “I feel it more than usual. It’s not difficult to account for + it; you have some of my blood, and I have some of yours.” +

+

+ “Yes, every time I realise that, I—Tell me, Joiwind, will my + blood alter, if I stay here long enough?—I mean, will it lose its + redness and thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like + yours?” +

+

+ “Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us.” +

+

+ “Do you mean food and drink?” +

+

+ “We eat no food, and drink only water.” +

+

+ “And on that you manage to sustain life?” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull, our water is good water,” replied Joiwind, + smiling. +

+

+ As soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The + enormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting + where it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep blue, + almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger than on + earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in which they were + walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently about forty miles + distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was shaped like a cup. + Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he was travelling in + dreamland, but for the intensity of the light, which made everything + vividly real. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. “That’s + Poolingdred.” +

+

+ “You didn’t come from there!” he exclaimed, quite + startled. +

+

+ “Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now.” +

+

+ “With the single object of finding me?” +

+

+ “Why, yes.” +

+

+ The colour mounted to his face. “Then you are the bravest and + noblest of all girls,” he said quietly, after a pause. “Without + exception. Why, this is a journey for an athlete!” +

+

+ She pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues stained + her cheeks in rapid transition. “Please don’t say any more + about it, Maskull. It makes me feel unpleasant.” +

+

+ “Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?” +

+

+ “Oh, yes. And you mustn’t be frightened at the distance. We + think nothing of long distances here—we have so much to think about + and feel. Time goes all too quickly.” +

+

+ During their conversation they had drawn near the base of the hills, which + sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. Maskull now began + to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What looked like a small patch + of purple grass, above five feet square, was moving across the sand in + their direction. When it came near enough he perceived that it was not + grass; there were no blades, but only purple roots. The roots were + revolving, for each small plant in the whole patch, like the spokes of a + rimless wheel. They were alternately plunged in the sand, and withdrawn + from it, and by this means the plant proceeded forward. Some uncanny, + semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together, moving at + one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in flight. +

+

+ Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a + dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind + caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed it + to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the air and fed on the + chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what was peculiar about it + was its colour. It was an entirely new colour—not a new shade or + combination, but a new primary colour, as vivid as blue, red, or yellow, + but quite different. When he inquired, she told him that it was known as + “ulfire.” Presently he met with a second new colour. This she + designated “jale.” The sense impressions caused in Maskull by + these two additional primary colors can only be vaguely hinted at by + analogy. Just as blue is delicate and mysterious, yellow clear and + unsubtle, and red sanguine and passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild + and painful, and jale dreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous. +

+

+ The hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird + shapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, covered + the slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and through. Some hard + fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a large apple, and shaped + like an egg, was lying in profusion underneath the trees. +

+

+ “Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don’t you eat it?” + asked Maskull. +

+

+ She looked at him tranquilly. “We don’t eat living things. The + thought is horrible to us.” +

+

+ “I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you + really sustain your bodies on water?” +

+

+ “Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull—would + you eat other men?” +

+

+ “I would not.” +

+

+ “Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow + creatures. So nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really live + on anything, water does very well.” +

+

+ Maskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he did so + another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. He found that + the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel fashion acquainting + him with the inward properties of the fruit. He could not only see, feel, + and smell it, but could detect its intrinsic nature. This nature was hard, + persistent and melancholy. +

+

+ Joiwind answered the questions he had not asked. +

+

+ “Those organs are called ‘poigns.’ Their use is to + enable us to understand and sympathise with all living creatures.” +

+

+ “What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull.” +

+

+ He threw the fruit away and flushed again. +

+

+ Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and + slowly smiled. “Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do + you know why you think so? It’s because you are still impure. By and + by you will listen to all language without shame.” +

+

+ Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle round + his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool pressure. + The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and sensitive that + it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that embraced him—a + pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced neither + voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the caress was + rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least trace of sex in + it—and so he received it. +

+

+ She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and + penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul. +

+

+ “Yes, I wish to be pure,” he muttered. “Without that + what can I ever be but a weak, squirming devil?” +

+

+ Joiwind released him. “This we call the ‘magn,’” + she said, indicating her tentacle. “By means of it what we love + already we love more, and what we don’t love at all we begin to + love.” +

+

+ “A godlike organ!” +

+

+ “It is the one we guard most jealously,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ The shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost + insufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward to + the zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull + looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result. + After staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but + suspicions had already begun to gather in his mind. +

+

+ A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by the + tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very middle shot up + a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and transparent, + crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural, circular well, + containing dark green water. +

+

+ When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the + well. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at it intently. “Is this the shrine you talked about?” +

+

+ “Yes. It is called Shaping’s Well. The man or woman who wishes + to invoke Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it.” +

+

+ “Pray for me,” said Maskull. “Your unspotted prayer will + carry more weight.” +

+

+ “What do you wish for?” +

+

+ “For purity,” answered Maskull, in a troubled voice. +

+

+ Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She held + it up to Maskull’s mouth. “You must drink too.” He + obeyed. She then stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the + soft murmurings of spring, prayed aloud. +

+

+ “Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has + come to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let him + know the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don’t spare him + pain, dear Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into him a + noble soul.” +

+

+ Maskull listened with tears in his heart. +

+

+ As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and, half + buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of dazzlingly white + pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro between distinctness + and indistinctness, like an object being focused. Then they faded out of + sight again. +

+

+ “Is that a sign from Shaping?” asked Maskull, in a low, awed + tone. +

+

+ “Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage.” +

+

+ “What can that be, Joiwind?” +

+

+ “You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do + so, because it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, wise men + will do hereafter in full knowledge.” +

+

+ “It is right for man to pray,” said Maskull. “Good and + evil in the world don’t originate from nothing. God and Devil must + exist. And we should pray to the one, and fight the other.” +

+

+ “Yes, we must fight Krag.” +

+

+ “What name did you say?” asked Maskull in amazement. +

+

+ “Krag—the author of evil and misery—whom you call Devil.” +

+

+ He immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from learning + his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. +

+

+ “Why do you hide your mind from me?” she demanded, looking at + him strangely and changing colour. +

+

+ “In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can + scarcely grasp its meaning.” But he lied. +

+

+ Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. “The + world is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my husband, has + travelled, and he has told me things I would almost rather have not heard. + One person he met believed the universe to be, from top to bottom, a + conjurer’s cave.” +

+

+ “I should like to meet your husband.” +

+

+ “Well, we are going home now.” +

+

+ Maskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, but + was afraid of offending her, and checked himself. +

+

+ She read the mental question. “What need is there? Is not the whole + world full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish possessions?” +

+

+ An extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five + distinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body, paddled + by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees. +

+

+ Joiwind pointed to it, as it went by. “I love that beast, grotesque + as it is—perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had + children of my own, would I still love it? Which is best—to love two + or three, or to love all?” +

+

+ “Every woman can’t be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to + have a few like you. Wouldn’t it be as well,” he went on, + “since we’ve got to walk through that sun-baked wilderness, to + make turbans for our heads out of some of those long leaves?” +

+

+ She smiled rather pathetically. “You will think me foolish, but + every tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have only to + throw our robes over our heads.” +

+

+ “No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me—weren’t + these very robes once part of a living creature?” +

+

+ “Oh, no—no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they + have never been in themselves alive.” +

+

+ “You reduce life to extreme simplicity,” remarked Maskull + meditatively, “but it is very beautiful.” +

+

+ Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began + their march across the desert. +

+

+ They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight toward + Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged their way to lie + due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very tiring to his naked feet. + The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him semi-blind. He was hot, + parched, and tormented with the craving to drink; his undertone of pain + emerged into full consciousness. +

+

+ “I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer.” +

+

+ “Yes, it is queer—if it is accidental,” said Joiwind, + with a peculiar intonation. +

+

+ “Exactly!” agreed Maskull. “If they had met with a + mishap, their bodies would still be there. It begins to look like a piece + of bad work to me. They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am + here, and I must make the best of it. I will trouble no more about them.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to speak ill of anyone,” said Joiwind, + “but my instinct tells me that you are better away from those men. + They did not come here for your sake, but for their own.” +

+

+ They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint. She + twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of + confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. +

+

+ “Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?” +

+

+ “Yes,” she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. “But + not much—and it gives me great happiness.” +

+

+ Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born + lamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to the front, + and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete + rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into pots + of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining eyes, as + they passed. +

+

+ Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. “That’s a personal friend of + mine, Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It’s always + waltzing, and always in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere.” +

+

+ “It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is + no need for anyone to get anywhere. What I don’t quite understand is + how you manage to pass your days without ennui.” +

+

+ “That’s a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for + excitement?” +

+

+ “Something of the kind,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “That must be a disease brought on by rich food.” +

+

+ “But are you never dull?” +

+

+ “How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh + is clean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you will + understand what sort of question you have asked.” +

+

+ Farther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of the + desert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, with a + cool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a fountain in + this respect—that the water of which it was composed did not return + to the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at the summit. It was in + fact a tall, graceful column of dark green fluid, with a capital of + coiling and twisting vapours. +

+

+ When they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was the + continuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down from the + direction of the mountains. The explanation of the phenomenon was + evidently that the water at this spot found chemical affinities in the + upper air, and consequently forsook the ground. +

+

+ “Now let us drink,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ She threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face downward, + by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in following her + example. She refused to quench her thirst until she had seen him drink. He + found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. He drank copiously. It + affected his palate in a new way—with the purity and cleanness of + water was combined the exhilaration of a sparkling wine, raising his + spirits—but somehow the intoxication brought out his better nature, + and not his lower. +

+

+ “We call it ‘gnawl water’,” said Joiwind. “This + is not quite pure, as you can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is + crystal clear. But we would be ungrateful if we complained. After this you’ll + find we’ll get along much better.” +

+

+ Maskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the first + time. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and wonders that + he had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring scarlet of the sands + became separated into a score of clearly distinguished shades of red. The + sky was similarly split up into different blues. The radiant heat of + Branchspell he found to affect every part of his body with unequal + intensities. His ears awakened; the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the + sands hummed, even the sun’s rays had a sound of their own—a + kind of faint Aeolian harp. Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his + nostrils. His palate lingered over the memory of the gnawl water. All the + pores of his skin were tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived + currents of air. His poigns explored actively the inward nature of + everything in his immediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew + from her person a stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve + he exchanged thoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony + stirred him to the depths, and throughout the walk of that endless morning + he felt no more fatigue. +

+

+ When it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy margin + of a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred. +

+

+ Panawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 7. PANAWE +

+

+ The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in + white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face + and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked + skin at all—it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh, + extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the + artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness and + delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the + manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair, + which fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from + vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was still + a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the appearance of + a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and harmony. +

+

+ His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull + saw his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in + her husband’s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and + smiling. Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but + submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in + the act. +

+

+ “The stranger is red-blooded, then?” +

+

+ He was startled by Panawe’s speaking in English, and the voice too + was extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed + in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of + thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected. + How this could be, he did not know. +

+

+ “How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t say if I am really + speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my + thoughts into your tongue as I utter them.” +

+

+ “Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind + gaily. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked the husband. +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “That name must have a meaning—but again, thought is a strange + thing. I connect that name with something—but with what?” +

+

+ “Try to discover,” said Joiwind. +

+

+ “Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the + Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?” +

+

+ “There is such a myth. The hero’s name was Prometheus.” +

+

+ “Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action—but + what it all means I can’t say, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks + thoughtlessly.” +

+

+ “There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,” + said Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative. +

+

+ “Where do you come from?” +

+

+ “From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.” +

+

+ “What for?” +

+

+ “I was tired of vulgarity,” returned Maskull laconically. He + intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that Krag’s + name should not come to light. +

+

+ “That’s an honourable motive,” said Panawe. “And + what’s more, it may be true, though you spoke it as a prevarication.” +

+

+ “As far as it goes, it’s quite true,” said Maskull, + staring at him with annoyance and surprise. +

+

+ The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were + standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds + showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was dark + green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it. +

+

+ Joiwind caught his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake + will bear us?” +

+

+ Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his weight. + Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip about—nevertheless + the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by watching and imitating + Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself without assistance. After + that he found the sport excellent. +

+

+ For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind’s half + falls and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either + of the men. Her slight, draped form—dipping, bending, rising, + swaying, twisting, upon the surface of the dark water—this was a + picture Maskull could not keep his eyes away from. +

+

+ The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags, + gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in detail. + A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet. The surface of + the lake grew disturbed—so much so that Maskull had difficulty in + keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and started swimming + on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and laughed so joyously + that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight. +

+

+ They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The water + on Maskull’s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed + upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange movements + on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was working + convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his hand to his + mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured pebble. He + looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked, over his + shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection, Panawe let + the object—whatever it was—fall to the ground, and took no + more interest in it. +

+

+ “May I look?” asked Maskull; and, without waiting for + permission, he picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped + crystal of pale green. +

+

+ “Where did this come from?” he asked queerly. +

+

+ Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. “It came out of my + husband.” +

+

+ “That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t believe it. But + what is it?” +

+

+ “I don’t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an + overflowing of beauty.” +

+

+ “Beauty?” +

+

+ Joiwind smiled. “If you were to regard nature as the husband, and + Panawe as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected. +

+

+ “On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are + called artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and + out of them again. The only distinction is that their productions + are more human and intelligible.” +

+

+ “Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe, and, taking + the crystal out of Maskull’s hand, he threw it into the lake. +

+

+ The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. + Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently + tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of the + two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet thoughts. + The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight. The heat of + Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing, the radiance was + shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull’s pain steadily grew + worse. +

+

+ When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of + vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. It + was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of the + cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The hills varied + in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a thousand feet + above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind of glittering + vegetation which he could not comprehend. +

+

+ Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder, and pointed upward. + “Here you have the highest peak in the whole land—that is, + until you come to the Ifdawn Marest.” +

+

+ On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable + sensation of wild vigour and restlessness—but it passed away. +

+

+ Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower + half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it + grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth + became thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the + summit, tall forest trees appeared. +

+

+ These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the small + twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast no shadows + from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and branches were + fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, however, was the + fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two plants belonged to the + same species. +

+

+ “Won’t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?” said + Joiwind, pulling her husband’s arm. +

+

+ He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for again trespassing in his + brain. But the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is + necessarily energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is + still fluid—not yet rigid—and matter is plastic. The will + forks and sports incessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.” +

+

+ “Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after + listening attentively. “But what I don’t grasp is this—if + living creatures here sport so energetically, how does it come about that + human beings wear much the same shape as in my world?” +

+

+ “I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All + creatures that resemble Shaping must of necessity resemble one another.” +

+

+ “Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?” +

+

+ “Exactly.” +

+

+ “It is most wonderful,” said Maskull. “Then the + brotherhood of man is not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.” +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into sternness. +

+

+ Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured blossoms + of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his breve he + could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, “To me! To me!” + While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to one of + these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry immediately + ceased. +

+

+ They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A lake + occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly intercepted the + view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this mountain lake was nearly + circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile across. Its shore stood a hundred + feet below them. +

+

+ Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to + wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he + found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency. He + walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths. It + was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance, without + arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out of reach of + his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and mysterious, + seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense depth. It was + like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal length, but the + accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable time, and then + ceased. +

+

+ The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that in + which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and + unbelievable—the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. + It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only + occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. +

+

+ He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his + experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down on + the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked the + desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose dimensions + could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet he could not make + out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of transparent glass, but it + did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in it could be distinguished, + except a rolling river in the far distance, and, farther off still, on the + horizon, a line of dark mountains, of strange shapes. Instead of being + rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these heights were carved by nature into + the semblance of castle battlements, but with extremely deep indentations. +

+

+ The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. It + contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the + heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the + afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset. +

+

+ Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble + became his feelings. +

+

+ “What is that light?” +

+

+ Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. “It + is Alppain—our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are + the Ifdawn Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter.” +

+

+ “Is it imagination, or am I really being affected—tormented by + that light?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not imagination—it’s real. How can it be + otherwise when two suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same + time? Luckily you are not looking at Alppain itself. It’s invisible + here. You would need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.” +

+

+ “Why do you say ‘luckily’?” +

+

+ “Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be + more than you could bear.... But I don’t know.” +

+

+ For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very + thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye + chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and + stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. + Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led + the way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain and + terminated in the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The host + took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly sprinkled + the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent light + gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and continued to + illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was no furniture. + Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches. +

+

+ The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband tended + her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, + energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the + sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was + distressed. +

+

+ Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. “It’s quite true + this has been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will + lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of + sacrifice.” +

+

+ “I can’t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,” + said Maskull, “and she has been twice the distance.” +

+

+ “Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that’s why she + is so strong.” +

+

+ “You know she gave me some of it?” +

+

+ “Otherwise you couldn’t even have started.” +

+

+ “I shall never forget that.” +

+

+ The languorous heat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern, + the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited + Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude. +

+

+ “Will it disturb her if we talk?” +

+

+ “No.” +

+

+ “But how do you feel?” +

+

+ “I require little sleep. In any case, it’s more important that + you should hear something about your new life. It’s not all as + innocent and idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be + instructed about the dangers.” +

+

+ “Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange—shall I put + questions, or will you tell me what you think is most essential?” +

+

+ Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the same + time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs. +

+

+ “I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from + them what sort of place you have come to.” +

+

+ “I shall be grateful,” said Maskull, preparing himself to + listen. +

+

+ Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in + tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones. +

+

+ PANAWE’S STORY +

+

+ “My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old + (that’s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more + slowly here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in + Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through trees + for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we went along, + until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark red colour and + the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping to think. If left + uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep abstraction. My + mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different stamp. She was + beautiful, generous, and charming—but also active. She kept urging + him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made me miserable. + On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest which bordered on + the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water that will not bear a + man’s weight, and as these light parts don’t differ in + appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed out + a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. + Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the same + day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest, + surrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big + gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a + hundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His body + was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed at + equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of great + watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I + afterward heard this saying of his: ‘To lie is to sleep, to sit is + to dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the infection, and + fell into meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol + scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too + learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a prodigy—that + is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled over this, and + wished to consult the wisest of men. +

+

+ “Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, ‘This perhaps will + not be so difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among + us is a walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the + female who was born in the same body with him—if a female, she has + killed the male. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.’ +

+

+ “‘How shall we end it?’ asked my mother. +

+

+ “‘Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, + and it will be of whichever sex it pleases.’ +

+

+ “‘You want, of course, to be a man, don’t you?’ + said my mother to me earnestly. +

+

+ “‘Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a + crime.’ +

+

+ “Something in my tone attracted Broodviol’s notice. +

+

+ “‘That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore + the male must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you + arrive home, the child will be a boy.’ +

+

+ “My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before + Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking + kindly at her. +

+

+ “I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a + few hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died. +

+

+ “His prophecy came true—before we reached home, I knew the + meaning of shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later + years, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the + conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite + straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in one + body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for life + withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was the stronger + temperament, and she sacrificed herself—though not consciously—for + me. +

+

+ “As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or + destroy anything that contained life—and I have kept it ever since. +

+

+ “While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother’s + death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I + therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother’s country, where, + as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary. +

+

+ “One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is so called + either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous + character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the + mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies + below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet—a terrible + precipice on either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not + much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley + on my right hand was plunged in shadow—that on my left was sparkling + with sunlight and dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for + some miles. Far to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, + connecting the two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most + towering pinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but + I have heard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is + that they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to + travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with + whom they reside. +

+

+ “Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, + clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the + ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like a + different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I saw + someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart again, + for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I went slowly on, + and presently we drew near enough together for me to recognise the walker. + It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I + knew him by his peculiarities of person. He was of a bright gamboge colour + and possessed a very long, proboscis-like nose, which appeared to be a + useful organ, but did not add to his beauty, as I knew beauty. He was + dubbed ‘sorcerer’ from his wondrous skill in budding limbs and + organs. The tale is told that one evening he slowly sawed his leg off with + a blunt stone and then lay for two days in agony while his new leg was + sprouting. He was not reputed to be a consistently wise man, but he had + periodical flashes of penetration and audacity that none could equal. +

+

+ “We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart. +

+

+ “‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. His + manner was as calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible + with hidden terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this + humiliation. We continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many + minutes. +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pleasure?’ he asked suddenly. +

+

+ “I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any + emergency, so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the + conversation, as if it were for that purpose we had met. +

+

+ “‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘for pain drives out pleasure.’ +

+

+ “‘What is greater than Pain?’ +

+

+ “I reflected. ‘Love. Because we will accept our loved one’s + share of pain.’ +

+

+ “‘But what is greater than Love?’ he persisted. +

+

+ “‘Nothing, Slofork.’ +

+

+ “‘And what is Nothing?’ +

+

+ “‘That you must tell me.’ +

+

+ “‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a + good child here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But + there’s another world—not Shaping’s—and there all + this is unknown, and another order of things reigns. That world we call + Nothing—but it is not Nothing, but Something.’ +

+

+ “There was a pause. +

+

+ “‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at + growing and ungrowing organs?’ +

+

+ “‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the + same story. I want to hear different stories.’ +

+

+ “‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in + pulses?’ +

+

+ “‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had + it from did not add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’ +

+

+ “‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that + wisdom is misery.’ +

+

+ “‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, + and never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful + face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own + way.’ +

+

+ “Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the + path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum + toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, and + shut my eyes. +

+

+ “Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks + it was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide. + Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to + speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others. +

+

+ “I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for + four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the + possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly + through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the + third extraordinary personage of my experience—the grim Muremaker. + It was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I + saw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was + hanging in an upright position in front of a cliff—a yawning gulf, a + thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could, + and looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to + turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I + could not even grasp what had happened. +

+

+ “‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which + shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am + sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like + this. While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but + when he gets tired—and it can’t be long now—I drop into + those depths.’ +

+

+ “Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this + ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole + existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake of + his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day. +

+

+ “In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a + month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to + part.” +

+

+ Panawe stopped speaking. +

+

+ “That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I + begin to know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me.” +

+

+ “What’s that?” +

+

+ “How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and + have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and + wise in their thoughts.” +

+

+ “Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I + see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make + up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of + stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.” +

+

+ “No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a + great deal to unlearn.” +

+

+ They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. + Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN +

+

+ Maskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and walked + out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He climbed to + the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. The afterglow of + Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The mountains stood up wild and + grand. +

+

+ They impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which are + widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and adventure + seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment that the + determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest and explore its + dangers. +

+

+ He returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts. +

+

+ Joiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. “Is this + selfishness, Maskull?” she asked, “or are you drawn by + something stronger than yourself?” +

+

+ “We must be reasonable,” he answered, smiling. “I can’t + settle down in Poolingdred before I have found out something about this + surprising new planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have come.... + But very likely I shall come back here.” +

+

+ “Will you make me a promise?” +

+

+ Maskull hesitated. “Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my + powers yet.” +

+

+ “It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this—never to raise + your hand against a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, + without first recollecting its mother, who suffered for it.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I won’t promise that,” said Maskull slowly, + “but I’ll undertake something more tangible. I will never lift + my hand against a living creature without first recollecting you, Joiwind.” +

+

+ She turned a little pale. “Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, + he might be jealous.” +

+

+ Panawe put his hand on her gently. “You would not talk like that in + Shaping’s presence,” he said. +

+

+ “No. Forgive me! I’m not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull’s + blood in my veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he will + do only honourable deeds, wherever he may be.” +

+

+ “I’ll set Maskull on his way,” said Panawe. +

+

+ “There’s no need,” replied Maskull. “The way is + plain.” +

+

+ “But talking shortens the road.” +

+

+ Maskull turned to go. +

+

+ Joiwind pulled him around toward her softly. “You won’t think + badly of other women on my account?” +

+

+ “You are a blessed spirit,” answered he. +

+

+ She trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there + thinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. Halfway down the + cliff face a little spring was encountered. Its water was colourless, + transparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull had satisfied his thirst he + felt himself different. His surroundings were so real to him in their + vividness and colour, so unreal in their phantom-like mystery, that he + scrambled downhill like one in a winter’s dream. +

+

+ When they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable forest + of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily foreign looking. + The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it was as if he were + gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they got underneath the trees + the light rays of the sun continued to come through—white, savage, + and blazing—but they were gelded of heat. Then it was not hard to + imagine that they were wandering through cool, bright elfin glades. +

+

+ Through the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly + straight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see. +

+

+ Maskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow unable + to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable smile—stern, + yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the silence, but, + strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he was singing or + speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical recitative, exactly like a + bewitching adagio from a low toned stringed instrument—but there was + a difference. Instead of the repetition and variation of one or two short + themes, as in music, Panawe’s theme was prolonged—it never + came to an end, but rather resembled a conversation in rhythm and melody. + And, at the same time, it was no recitative, for it was not declamatory. + It was a long, quiet stream of lovely emotion. +

+

+ Maskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be termed + song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear and + intelligible—not with the intelligibility of words, but in the way + one sympathises with another’s moods and feelings; and Maskull felt + that something important was about to be uttered, which would explain all + that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, he never understood—and + yet somehow he did understand. +

+

+ Late in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe ceased his + recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the fashion of a man who + wishes to convey that he intends to go no farther. +

+

+ “What is the name of this country?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is the Lusion Plain.” +

+

+ “Was that music in the nature of a temptation—do you wish me + not to go on?” +

+

+ “Your work lies before you, and not behind you.” +

+

+ “What was it, then? What work do you allude to?” +

+

+ “It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It seemed like Shaping music to me.” +

+

+ The instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why he + had done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him. +

+

+ Panawe, however, showed no surprise. “Shaping you will find + everywhere.” +

+

+ “Am I dreaming, or awake?” +

+

+ “You are awake.” +

+

+ Maskull fell into deep thought. “So be it,” he said, rousing + himself. “Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?” +

+

+ “You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of + the Marest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the forest and + river meet.” +

+

+ “Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?” +

+

+ “Only this, Maskull—wherever you go, help to make the world + beautiful, and not ugly.” +

+

+ “That’s more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, + and have no ambitions in the way of beautifying life—But tell + Joiwind I will try to keep myself pure.” +

+

+ They parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had stopped, and + watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once. +

+

+ He became aware that something was about to happen. The air was + breathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his frame + in voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced through the + sky overhead. +

+

+ A single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere behind + him. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at first; but + then it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the same time that + it increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, but now it was as if + blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his head. Then it gradually + diminished in force, and travelled away in front of him. It ended very + faintly and distantly. +

+

+ He felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his heart. + Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day did not exist + for him. He was unconscious of himself—he had no thoughts and no + feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude for him. +

+

+ A man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed that + his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was young rather + than old. Maskull observed that his countenance possessed none of the + special organs of Tormance, to which he had not even yet become + reconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person seemed to radiate an + excess of life, like the trembling of air on a hot day. His eyes had such + force that Maskull could not meet them. +

+

+ He addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a double + tone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an undertone, like + a sympathetic tanging string. +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence of + this individual. He believed that something good was happening to him. He + found it physically difficult to bring any words out. “Why do you + stop me?” +

+

+ “Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?” +

+

+ “I think you are Shaping.” +

+

+ “I am Surtur.” +

+

+ Maskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were being + stabbed. +

+

+ “You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you + here? I wish you to serve me.” +

+

+ Maskull could no longer speak. +

+

+ “Those who joke at my world,” continued the vision, “those + who make a mock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, + which are not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots—they + shall not escape.” +

+

+ “I do not mock it.” +

+

+ “Ask me your questions, and I will answer them.” +

+

+ “I have nothing.” +

+

+ “It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not + understand? You are my servant and helper.” +

+

+ “I shall not fail.” +

+

+ “This is for my sake, and not for yours.” +

+

+ These last words had no sooner left Surtur’s mouth than Maskull saw + him spring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of the + sky, he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur’s form—not + as a concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and + frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out. +

+

+ Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the + solitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the far + distance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with regularly + increasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and then grew more + and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away in the rear, until + the note was merged in the deathlike silence of the forest. It appeared to + Maskull like the closing of a marvellous and important chapter. +

+

+ Simultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed to + open up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of immeasurable + height. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his limbs, and looked + around him with a slow smile. +

+

+ After a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and confused, + but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the rest—huge, + shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul of a creative + artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of destiny. +

+

+ The more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in this + new world—and even before leaving Earth—the clearer and more + indisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own purposes, + but must be here for an end. But what that end was, he could not imagine. +

+

+ Through the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. It + looked a stupendous ball of red fire—now he could realise at his + ease what a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left and + began to descend steeply. +

+

+ A wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of him, + no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest path led him + straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and regarded the lapping, + gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite bank, the forest continued. + Miles to the south, Poolingdred could just be distinguished. On the + northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains loomed up—high, wild, + beautiful, and dangerous. They were not a dozen miles away. +

+

+ Like the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths of + cool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In spite of + his bodily fatigue, he wished to test his strength against something. This + craving he identified with the crags of the Marest. They seemed to have + the same magical attraction for his will as the lodestone for iron. He + kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that direction—wondering + if it would not be possible to conquer the heights that evening. But when + he glanced back again at Poolingdred, he remembered Joiwind and Panawe, + and grew more tranquil. He decided to make his bed at this spot, and to + set off as soon after daybreak as he should awake. +

+

+ He drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to sleep. + By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared nothing for + the possible dangers of the night—he confided in his star. +

+

+ Branchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came on, + and through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, he was + awakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, and wondered + where he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow was a terrestrial + phenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got up and went toward the + source of the light. +

+

+ Away from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled across the + form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the crimson rays was + lying on the ground, several yards away from her. It was like a small + jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He barely threw a glance at that, + however. +

+

+ The woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big, smooth, + shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a thin tentacle, + but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, which was upturned, was + wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. But he saw with surprise that in + place of a breve on her forehead, she possessed another eye. All three + were closed. The colour of her skin in the crimson glow he could not + distinguish. +

+

+ He touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up at him + without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but the two lower + ones were dull and vacant—mere carriers of vision. The middle, upper + one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, unflinching glare had + yet something seductive and alluring in it. Maskull felt a challenge in + that look of lordly, feminine will, and his manner instinctively + stiffened. +

+

+ She sat up. +

+

+ “Can you speak my language?” he asked. “I wouldn’t + put such a question, but others have been able to.” +

+

+ “Why should you imagine that I can’t read your mind? Is it so + extremely complex?” +

+

+ She spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to + listen to. +

+

+ “No, but you have no breve.” +

+

+ “Well, but haven’t I a sorb, which is better?” And she + pointed to the eye on her brow. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ “Oceaxe.” +

+

+ “And where do you come from?” +

+

+ “Ifdawn.” +

+

+ These contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere sound + of her voice was fascinating. +

+

+ “I am going there tomorrow,” he remarked. +

+

+ She laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull,” he went on. “I am a stranger—from + another world.” +

+

+ “So I should judge, from your absurd appearance.” +

+

+ “Perhaps it would be as well to say at once,” said Maskull + bluntly, “are we, or are we not, to be friends?” +

+

+ She yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. “Why should we be + friends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a lover.” +

+

+ “You must look elsewhere for that.” +

+

+ “So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace.” +

+

+ She dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her + eyes. +

+

+ “What are you doing here?” he interrogated. +

+

+ “Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there + often enough it is a night for us which has no next morning.” +

+

+ “Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, + it would be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to expect + in the way of dangers.” +

+

+ “I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you,” + retorted Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Are you returning in the morning?” persisted Maskull. +

+

+ “If I wish.” +

+

+ “Then we will go together.” +

+

+ She got up again on her elbow. “Instead of making plans for other + people, I would do a very necessary thing.” +

+

+ “Pray, tell me.” +

+

+ “Well, there’s no reason why I should, but I will. I would try + to convert my women’s organs into men’s organs. It is a man’s + country.” +

+

+ “Speak more plainly.” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn + without a sorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too is + worse than useless.” +

+

+ “You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do + you advise me to do?” +

+

+ She negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the ground. +

+

+ “There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a + good while, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will do + the rest during the night. I promise nothing.” +

+

+ Oceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull. +

+

+ He considered for a few minutes, and then walked over to where the stone + was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the size of a hen’s + egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, and throwing out a + continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks. +

+

+ Finally deciding that Oceaxe’s advice was good, he applied the drude + first to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a cauterising + sensation—a feeling of healing pain. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 9. OCEAXE +

+

+ Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already + above the horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs + had changed during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelike + sorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springing from + the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physical security, + but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before he could grasp its + function. +

+

+ As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of his + three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his + understanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lower eyes + he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; with the + sorb he saw nothing as self-existent—everything appeared as an + object of importance or non-importance to his own needs. +

+

+ Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked about + him. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if she + were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up his mind + to bathe in the river. +

+

+ It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, but + its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through the trees. + A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked like animals, and + were always changing shape. The ground, as well as the leaves and branches + of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dew or rain during the + night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered his nostrils. His pain + was quiescent, and his spirits were high. +

+

+ Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In the + morning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they were + from five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellated + line seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him were + composed of gaudy rocks—vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and + black. As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy + drum, and he thrilled all over—indescribable hopes, aspirations, and + emotions came over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which + he felt—it was something different.... +

+

+ He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolled + indolently up. +

+

+ He could now perceive the colour of her skin—it was a vivid, yet + delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlingly + unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuine representative + of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curious about it. The + curves were womanly, the bones were characteristically female—yet + all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlying will. The + commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainer language. + Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex and + softness. +

+

+ She came to the river’s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. + “Now you are built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, + lingering voice. +

+

+ “You see, the experiment was successful,” he answered, smiling + gaily. +

+

+ Oceaxe continued looking him over. “Did some woman give you that + ridiculous robe?” +

+

+ “A woman did give it to me”—dropping his smile—“but + I saw nothing ridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don’t now.” +

+

+ “I think I’d look better in it.” +

+

+ As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suited + her form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed, + rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was in + fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress. Oceaxe + in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him. +

+

+ “I don’t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,” + she remarked slowly. +

+

+ “Why not? What can I be to you?” +

+

+ “I have been thinking about you during the night.” Her voice + was retarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallen + tree, and looked away. +

+

+ “In what way?” +

+

+ She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces of + the bark. +

+

+ “Last night you were so contemptuous.” +

+

+ “Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with + your head over your shoulder?” +

+

+ It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent. +

+

+ “Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can’t + go on resisting me forever.” +

+

+ “But this is preposterous,” said Maskull, opening his eyes + wide. “Granted that you are a beautiful woman—we can’t + be quite so primeval.” +

+

+ Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can + wait.” +

+

+ “From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my + society. I have no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only + on condition that you drop this language.” +

+

+ “Yet you do think me beautiful?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see + what that has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will + find plenty of men to admire—and love you.” +

+

+ At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you + imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not + Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?” +

+

+ “Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the + temptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely + woman is concerned. I am not my own master.” +

+

+ “I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you + humiliate me so?” +

+

+ Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my own + master.” +

+

+ “Then who is your master?” +

+

+ “Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.” +

+

+ “Did you speak with him?” she asked curiously. +

+

+ “I did.” +

+

+ “Tell me what he said.” +

+

+ “No, I can’t—I won’t. But whatever he said, his + beauty was more tormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that’s why I can + look at you in cold blood.” +

+

+ “Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have + thought it effeminate.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. You won’t always be so boyish. But + don’t try my patience too far.” +

+

+ “Let us talk about something else—and, above all, let us get + on our road.” +

+

+ She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he + grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. “Oh, + Maskull, Maskull—what a fool you are!” +

+

+ “In what way am I a fool?” he demanded, scowling—not at + her words, but at his own weakness. +

+

+ “Isn’t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of + lovers? And yet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away + from nature, but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?” +

+

+ “Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: + persistence.” +

+

+ “Read me well, and then it is natural law that you’ll think + twice and three times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, + we had better eat.” +

+

+ “Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “Don’t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?” +

+

+ “What food is it?” +

+

+ “Fish from the river.” +

+

+ Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felt + hungry. +

+

+ “Is there nothing milder?” +

+

+ She pulled her mouth scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’t + you? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be looked + at, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have to + change your notions.” +

+

+ “Go catch your fish,” he returned, pulling down his brows. +

+

+ The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, from + the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, and peered + into the depths. Presently her look became tense and concentrated; she + dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of little monster. It was more + like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly plates and teeth. She threw it + on the ground, and it started crawling about. Suddenly she darted all her + will into her sorb. The creature leaped into the air, and fell down dead. +

+

+ She picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales and + entrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stained with + the light scarlet blood. +

+

+ “Find the drude, Maskull,” she said, with a lazy smile. + “You had it last night.” +

+

+ He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dull and + feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it in the + interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground. +

+

+ “While it’s cooking, I’ll wash some of this blood away, + which frightens you so much. Have you never seen blood before?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back—the + contrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful, + masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with the fascinating + and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea flashed into his + mind. +

+

+ “In your country I’m told there is an act of will called + ‘absorbing.’ What is that?” +

+

+ She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a + delicious, clashing laugh. “You think I am half a man?” +

+

+ “Answer my question.” +

+

+ “I’m a woman through and through, Maskull—to the + marrowbone. But that’s not to say I have never absorbed males.” +

+

+ “And that means...” +

+

+ “New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a + stormier heart...” +

+

+ “For you, yes—But for them?...” +

+

+ “I don’t know. The victims don’t describe their + experiences. Probably unhappiness of some sort—if they still know + anything.” +

+

+ “This is a fearful business!” he exclaimed, regarding her + gloomily. “One would think Ifdawn a land of devils.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river. “Better + men than you—better in every sense of the word—are walking + about with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like, + Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simple + natures were made to be absorbed.” +

+

+ “And human rights count for nothing!” +

+

+ She had bent over the river’s edge, to wash her arms and hands, but + glanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. “They do count. + But we only regard a man as human for just as long as he’s able to + hold his own with others.” +

+

+ The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast + heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. Whether it + was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long abstention, he + did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even cannibalistic. He ate + little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled. +

+

+ “Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,” + said Oceaxe. “On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull + with me, to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.” +

+

+ They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a + sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had the + contrary effect—it caused them to exert themselves, and they moved + faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The exercise + gradually improved the circulation of Maskull’s blood, and he began + to look at things in a far more cheerful way. The hot sunshine, the + diminished wind, the marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet, crystal forests—all + was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer and nearer to the + gaily painted heights of Ifdawn. +

+

+ There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was + attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the + same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost, + painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings + produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull’s + impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices. +

+

+ He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have most extraordinary + shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular—no slopes or + curves.” +

+

+ She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. “That’s + typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and + gradual.” +

+

+ “I hear you, but I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “All over the Marest you’ll find patches of ground plunging + down or rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice + before acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.” +

+

+ Maskull was impressed. “A fresh, wild, primitive land.” +

+

+ “How is it where you come from?” asked Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years to + move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks. Originality + is a lost habit.” +

+

+ “Are there women there?” +

+

+ “As with you, and not very differently formed.” +

+

+ “Do they love?” +

+

+ He laughed. “So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and + thoughts of the whole sex.” +

+

+ “Probably they are more beautiful than I?” +

+

+ “No, I think not,” said Maskull. +

+

+ There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily + onward. +

+

+ “What is your business in Ifdawn?” demanded Oceaxe suddenly. +

+

+ He hesitated over his answer. “Can you grasp that it’s + possible to have an aim right in front of one, so big that one can’t + see it as a whole?” +

+

+ She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, “What sort of aim?” +

+

+ “A moral aim.” +

+

+ “Are you proposing to set the world right?” +

+

+ “I propose nothing—I am waiting.” +

+

+ “Don’t wait too long, for time doesn’t wait—especially + in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Something will happen,” said Maskull. +

+

+ Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. “So you have no special destination in + the Marest?” +

+

+ “No, and if you’ll permit me, I will come home with you.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. + “That’s what I have been offering all the time. Of course you + will come home with me. As for Crimtyphon...” +

+

+ “You mentioned that name before. Who is he?” +

+

+ “Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.” +

+

+ “This doesn’t improve matters,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove + him.” +

+

+ “We are certainly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, + quite startled. “Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a + compact with you?” +

+

+ “You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to + come home with me.” +

+

+ “Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?” +

+

+ “Either you or I must kill him.” +

+

+ He eyed her for a full minute. “Now we are passing from folly to + insanity.” +

+

+ “Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the too-sad truth. + And when you have seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.” +

+

+ “I’m aware I am on a strange planet,” said Maskull + slowly, “where all sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where + the very laws of morality may be different. Still as far as I am + concerned, murder is murder, and I’ll have no more to do with a + woman who wants to make use of me, to get rid of her husband.” +

+

+ “You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily. +

+

+ “Or mad.” +

+

+ “Then you had better leave me, Maskull—only—” +

+

+ “Only what?” +

+

+ “You wish to be consistent, don’t you? Leave all other mad and + wicked people as well. Then you’ll find it easier to reform the + rest.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Well?” demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile. +

+

+ “I’ll come with you, and I’ll see Crimtyphon—if + only to warn him.” +

+

+ Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether at the + image conjured up by Maskull’s last words, or from some other cause, + he did not know. The conversation dropped. +

+

+ At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the river + made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer of use to + them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully. +

+

+ “It’s a stiff climb for a hot morning.” +

+

+ “Let’s rest here a little,” said she, indicating a + smooth flat island of black rock, standing up just out of the water in the + middle of the river. +

+

+ They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however, + standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite, + and uttered a piercing and peculiar call. +

+

+ “What is that for?” She did not answer. After waiting a + minute, she repeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself + from the top of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. + It was followed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly + slow and clumsy. +

+

+ “What are they?” he asked. +

+

+ She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat down + beside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapes and + colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures with + long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminating in fins + which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legs and fins + were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhat ominous + fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thin spike + projecting from each of the heads. +

+

+ “They are shrowks,” explained Oceaxe at last. “If you + want to know their intention, I’ll tell you. To make a meal of us. + First of all their spikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are + really suckers, will drain us dry of blood—pretty thoroughly too; + there are no half measures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don’t + eat flesh.” +

+

+ “As you show such admirable sangfroid,” said Maskull dryly, + “I take it there’s no particular danger.” +

+

+ Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. A + new form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground. +

+

+ “Are you trying to get up?” asked Oceaxe smoothly. +

+

+ “Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to + the rock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in view + in waking them up?” +

+

+ “I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking + and asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with your + will.” +

+

+ “I seem to have no will, unfortunately.” +

+

+ Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich and + beautiful. “It’s obvious you aren’t a very heroic + protector, Maskull. It seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I + expected better things of your big body. Why, my husband would send those + creatures dancing all around the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing + of them. Now watch me. Two of the three I’ll kill; the third we will + ride home on. Which one shall we keep?” +

+

+ The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their + bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of + loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted + with their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift + motion. +

+

+ “Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are + equally objectionable to me.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most + energetic animal. Watch now.” +

+

+ She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt + something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The two + monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the earth, + one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and then lie + motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied that its + flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but tame and + unwilling. +

+

+ Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their island + rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure. They + immediately crossed the water. +

+

+ Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet + long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; a mane + of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome and unnatural, + with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood-sucking cavity. + There were true fins on its back and tail. +

+

+ “Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s + flank. “As I have to steer, let me jump on first.” +

+

+ She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’s + back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the fin + there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his outer + hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and for + additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it. +

+

+ Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this + ride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires. +

+

+ The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had + been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which was + communicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling, + passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but + Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his + feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The + ride will last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like + a flute, but rather malicious. +

+

+ Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm. +

+

+ The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose + slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward the + painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the + contact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, + was merely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, + holding on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the + knowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was + responding to his touch like a lovely harp. +

+

+ They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around + him. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer + rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of + islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands + were mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a + high tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless + cracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like lakes, + in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The + perpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts + of the innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; + but the level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees + alone were distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of + different shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying + but did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage. +

+

+ As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his + passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay and + bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across the + sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no + aesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for + action and possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted + to deal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky; + attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to + play a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the + scenery had no significance for him. +

+

+ So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe + turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what + she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord. +

+

+ “Cold again so quickly, Maskull?” +

+

+ “What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the + side. “It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.” +

+

+ “You wish to take a hand?” +

+

+ “I wish to get down.” +

+

+ “Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?” +

+

+ “Different from what? What are you talking about?” said + Maskull, still lost in abstraction. +

+

+ Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make + a man of you, for the material is excellent.” +

+

+ After that, she turned her back once more. +

+

+ The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were not + on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken + terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying + well above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs + confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to + enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel. + They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above + thirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many + hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted to + plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity. +

+

+ “What is at the bottom?” he asked. +

+

+ “Death for you, if you go to look for it.” +

+

+ “We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?” +

+

+ “Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of + course all things are possible.” +

+

+ “I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully. +

+

+ Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and + see?” +

+

+ “You find that amusing?” +

+

+ “No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the + beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.” +

+

+ Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance + which is not a novelty for me.” +

+

+ “Yes, but I am a novelty for you.” +

+

+ The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain, and + all the time they were gradually rising. +

+

+ “At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said + Maskull, who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last + ready for conversation. +

+

+ “What’s the matter with my voice?” +

+

+ “It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why + I mentioned it.” +

+

+ “Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.” +

+

+ “Inappropriate?” +

+

+ “I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but + whether you are speaking or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest + and strangest instrument I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is + inappropriate.” +

+

+ “You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?” +

+

+ He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken off + by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the gulf + directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder. +

+

+ “The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe. +

+

+ “Shall we escape?” +

+

+ She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such a + steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor + of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be heard, + and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip in the + wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. A + hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each second—splitting, + hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. When they had + still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, a sort of dark, indefinite + sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under their feet, ascending rapidly, + with irresistible might, accompanied by the most horrible noises. The + canal was filled up for two hundred yards, before and behind them. + Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be raised. The shrowk in its + ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. Beast and riders experienced in + that moment all the horrors of an earthquake—they were rolled + violently over, and thrown among the rocks and dirt. All was thunder, + instability, motion, confusion. +

+

+ Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the sunlight. + The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the valley floor + had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher than the old. + Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as if by magic; + not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up and examined + themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its side, panting + violently, and sweating with fright. +

+

+ “That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off + his person. +

+

+ Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe. +

+

+ “It might have been far worse.... I mean, it’s bad enough to + come up, but it’s death to go down, and that happens just as often.” +

+

+ “Whatever induces you to live in such a country?” +

+

+ “I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought + of moving out of it.” +

+

+ “A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a + place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to + another.” +

+

+ “You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling. +

+

+ She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet. +

+

+ “Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her + perch. “We haven’t too much time to waste.” +

+

+ He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the + mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his + thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into + his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit there + in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be doing + something. +

+

+ “How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without + turning her head. +

+

+ “What secrets—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I + think it wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still + enough?” +

+

+ “Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve + far too many problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some + of them.” +

+

+ He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way toward a + distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural + quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a + broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered. +

+

+ “What mountain is that?” he asked. +

+

+ “Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.” +

+

+ “Are we going there?” +

+

+ “Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might + be worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land + as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. + You can also see Alppain from it.” +

+

+ “That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.” +

+

+ “Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his + wrist. “Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn + together.” +

+

+ He grunted unintelligibly. +

+

+ There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet. + While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not + far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful + roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one + minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with the + shock. “This is frightful.” +

+

+ Oceaxe remained unmoved. +

+

+ “Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, + when he had somewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of + steel.... Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?” +

+

+ “Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” + replied Oceaxe, with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but + that doesn’t prevent our often getting caught.” +

+

+ “You had better teach me the signs.” +

+

+ “We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I + expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first + let us get home.” +

+

+ “How far is it now?” +

+

+ “It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her + forefinger. “You can see it.” +

+

+ He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made + out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two miles + distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the bottom of + which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it to the + mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in the + brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle of the + peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with sea-green + leaves. +

+

+ “I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can + I see two figures, or am I mistaken?” +

+

+ “I also see something,” said Maskull. +

+

+ In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of + about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on the + mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both descended—Maskull + with aching thighs. +

+

+ “What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without + waiting for a suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. + “Fly away home! I may want you some other time.” +

+

+ It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after half + running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air, and + paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They watched + it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of land, + followed by Maskull. +

+

+ Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The + sky had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. + The ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses. + Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—and + occasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked + extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird + Ifdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen + from a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but + only desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. He + longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed + of the least importance to him. +

+

+ On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a large + copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of small + trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps the + roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller + fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling + fountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides, overhung + with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with an air of + wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god might have + dwelt here. +

+

+ Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who + formed the centre of the picture. +

+

+ One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a tall + couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and was + eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums lay on + the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree completely + sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad in a rough + skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from his face + whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were smooth, + soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil; but his + violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the colour of + yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it was violet. + The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet away from + him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, and rather + commonplace, but there was something terrible about his appearance. The + features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, despair, and + horror. +

+

+ Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost + shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch. +

+

+ “We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking + toward the youth. +

+

+ He eyed her, but said nothing. +

+

+ “How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial + but extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the + ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down the + skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with crossed + arms. +

+

+ There was silence for a minute. +

+

+ “Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” said the + boy on the couch, in a calm, treble voice. +

+

+ The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a strangled + tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already buds on + my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.” +

+

+ Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that + although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by + the boy. +

+

+ “What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow + roots will reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well + established. Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, + and his fingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head + into a crown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that + within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from + this new and remarkable tree.” +

+

+ “I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out + his hand for another plum. “They thrill me.” +

+

+ “This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward. +

+

+ The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as if + he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat. +

+

+ “The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again + after Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I + expect, so you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your + roots. Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear + to you now, in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. + Now you may go.” +

+

+ The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe + yawned. +

+

+ Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you + joking, or are you a devil?” +

+

+ “I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will + devise a new punishment for you.” +

+

+ The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched her + beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the struggle + between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; he reached out + his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self-control + broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—his beard + wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he had to + deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a + terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered + together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight continued + his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get + away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, + recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, to + get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. Grasping + his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, so that the neck + was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died. +

+

+ The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull viewed + it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder came into + his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s face had + undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal character + had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask which + expressed nothing. +

+

+ He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen the + brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face of the + apparition at the séance, after Krag had dealt with it. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 10. TYDOMIN +

+

+ Oceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating the + plums. +

+

+ “You see, you had to kill him, Maskull,” she said, in a rather + quizzical voice. +

+

+ He came away from the corpse and regarded her—still red, and still + breathing hard. “It’s no joking matter. You especially ought + to keep quiet.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Because he was your husband.” +

+

+ “You think I ought to show grief—when I feel none?” +

+

+ “Don’t pretend, woman!” +

+

+ Oceaxe smiled. “From your manner one would think you were accusing + me of some crime.” +

+

+ Maskull literally snorted at her words. “What, you live with filth—you + live in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then—” +

+

+ “Oh, now I grasp it,” she said, in a tone of perfect + detachment. +

+

+ “I’m glad.” +

+

+ “Well, Maskull,” she proceeded, after a pause, “and who + gave you the right to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?” +

+

+ He looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another long + interval of silence. +

+

+ “I never loved him,” said Oceaxe at last, looking at the + ground. +

+

+ “That makes it all the worse.” +

+

+ “What does all this mean—what do you want?” +

+

+ “Nothing from you—absolutely nothing—thank heaven!” +

+

+ She gave a hard laugh. “You come here with your foreign + preconceptions and expect us all to bow down to them.” +

+

+ “What preconceptions?” +

+

+ “Just because Crimtyphon’s sports are strange to you, you + murder him—and you would like to murder me.” +

+

+ “Sports! That diabolical cruelty.” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re sentimental!” said Oceaxe contemptuously. + “Why do you need to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, + all the world over, and one form is as good as another. He was only to be + made a tree, like a million other trees. If they can endure the life, why + can’t he?” +

+

+ “And this is Ifdawn morality!” +

+

+ Oceaxe began to grow angry. “It’s you who have peculiar ideas. + You rave about the beauty of flowers and trees—you think them + divine. But when it’s a question of taking on this divine, fresh, + pure, enchanting loveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately + becomes a cruel and wicked degradation. Here we have a strange riddle, in + my opinion.” +

+

+ “Oceaxe, you’re a beautiful, heartless wild beast—nothing + more. If you weren’t a woman—” +

+

+ “Well”—curling her lip—“let us hear what + would happen if I weren’t a woman?” +

+

+ Maskull bit his nails. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter. I can’t touch you—though there’s + certainly not the difference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. + For this you may thank my ‘foreign preconceptions.’... + Farewell!” +

+

+ He turned to go. Oceaxe’s eyes slanted at him through their long + lashes. +

+

+ “Where are you off to, Maskull?” +

+

+ “That’s a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must + be a change for the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!” +

+

+ “Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just + starting, and you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can quickly + put that body out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so much, the + place is big enough—we needn’t talk, or even see each other.” +

+

+ “I don’t wish to breathe the same air.” +

+

+ “Singular man!” She was sitting erect and motionless, like a + beautiful statue. “And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, + and all the undone things which you set out to do?” +

+

+ “You aren’t the one I shall speak to about that. But”—he + eyed her meditatively—“while I’m still here you can tell + me this. What’s the meaning of the expression on that corpse’s + face?” +

+

+ “Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. + Ought they not to?” +

+

+ “I once heard it called ‘Crystalman’s face.’” +

+

+ “Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is + doubtless the family resemblance.” +

+

+ “It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the + same.” +

+

+ “You have wise and truthful acquaintances.” +

+

+ “Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?” said Maskull, + more to himself than to her. “That apparition was something quite + different.” +

+

+ She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, + gently pulled his arm. +

+

+ “You see—we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your + questions. I’m not excessively smart, but I’ll try to be of + assistance.” +

+

+ Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She bent + toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, cool, + feminine breath should fan his cheek. +

+

+ “Aren’t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then + what does it matter who sent you?” +

+

+ “What can you possibly know of good and evil?” +

+

+ “Are you only instructing the initiated?” +

+

+ “Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you’re quite right. I + wish to do what I can—not because I am qualified, but because I am + here.” +

+

+ Oceaxe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a giant, + both in body and soul. What you want to do, you can do.” +

+

+ “Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own + ends?” +

+

+ She sighed. “Don’t you see how difficult you are making the + conversation? Let’s talk about your work, not about ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern sky. + It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. While he was + observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a disquieting nature, + passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it struck him for the first + time that he was being unnecessarily brutal to her. He had forgotten that + she was a woman, and defenceless. +

+

+ “Won’t you stay?” she asked all of a sudden, quite + openly and frankly. +

+

+ “Yes, I think I’ll stay,” he replied slowly. “And + another thing, Oceaxe—if I’ve misjudged your character, pray + forgive me. I’m a hasty, passionate man.” +

+

+ “There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for + vicious hearts. And you didn’t misjudge my character, as far as you + went—only, every woman has more than one character. Don’t you + know that?” +

+

+ During the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and both + looked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly across the neck + that separated them from the mainland. +

+

+ “Tydomin,” muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She + immediately moved away from Maskull and stood up. +

+

+ The newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was no + longer quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who knows her + way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its quiescence there + just was a glimpse of something strange and dangerous. It was curiously + alluring, though not exactly beautiful. Her hair was clustering and + boyish, reaching only to the neck. It was of a strange indigo colour. She + was quaintly attired in a tunic and breeches, pieced together from the + square, blue-green plates of some reptile. Her small, ivory-white breasts + were exposed. Her sorb was black and sad—rather contemplative. +

+

+ Without once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided + straight toward Crimtyphon’s corpse. When she arrived within a few + feet of it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded. +

+

+ Oceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, “It’s + Crimtyphon’s other wife, who lives under Disscourn. She’s a + most dangerous woman. Be careful what you say. If she asks you to do + anything, refuse it outright.” +

+

+ “The poor soul looks harmless enough.” +

+

+ “Yes, she does—but the poor soul is quite capable of + swallowing up Krag himself.... Now, play the man.” +

+

+ The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin’s notice, for + she now slowly turned her eyes toward them. +

+

+ “Who killed him?” she demanded. +

+

+ Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able to + catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and curiously + enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter. +

+

+ Oceaxe whispered, “Don’t say a word, leave it all to me.” + Then she swung her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, + “I killed him.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s words by this time were ringing in Maskull’s head + like an actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to + ignore them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the + consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting + her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, “It + was I that killed Crimtyphon.” +

+

+ Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. “Maskull says that so as + to shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him, + Tydomin.” +

+

+ “I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own + strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose.” +

+

+ Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. “It’s of little + consequence who killed him, for he’s better dead than alive, in my + opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.” +

+

+ Tydomin appeared not to hear him—she looked beyond him at Oceaxe + musingly. “When you murdered him, didn’t it occur to you that + I would come here, to find out?” +

+

+ “I never once thought of you,” replied Oceaxe, with an angry + laugh. “Do you really imagine that I carry your image with me + wherever I go?” +

+

+ “If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?” +

+

+ “Lying hypocrite!” Oceaxe spat out. “You never were in + love with Crimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an + excellent opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon’s + gone.... For we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had + asked him. He worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly.” +

+

+ Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. “Is it necessary + for you to listen to all this?” +

+

+ Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away out + of earshot. +

+

+ Tydomin approached Oceaxe. “Perhaps because my beauty fades and I’m + no longer young, I needed him all the more.” +

+

+ Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl. “Well, he’s dead, and that’s + the end of it. What are you going to do now, Tydomin?” +

+

+ The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. “There’s + nothing left to do, except mourn the dead. You won’t grudge me that + last office?” +

+

+ “Do you want to stay here?” demanded Oceaxe suspiciously. +

+

+ “Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.” +

+

+ “Then what is to become of us?” +

+

+ “I thought that you and your lover—what is his name?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend + Blodsombre at my home.” +

+

+ Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, “Will you come with me now to + Disscourn?” +

+

+ “If you wish,” returned Maskull. +

+

+ “Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon’s + death. I won’t keep him.” +

+

+ “Why don’t you question me, rather?” demanded Oceaxe, + looking up sharply. +

+

+ Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. “We know each other too well.” +

+

+ “Play no tricks!” said Oceaxe, and she turned to go. +

+

+ “Surely you must be dreaming,” said Tydomin. “That’s + the way—unless you want to walk over the cliffside.” +

+

+ The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction which + Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty + space. +

+

+ “Shaping! I must be mad,” cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she + obediently followed the other’s finger. +

+

+ She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces away. + Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing. Tydomin + remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her. Without + hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled on—and + when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took one more + step. +

+

+ Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body + disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded. +

+

+ Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself out + of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the + ground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished. +

+

+ He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to + sob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet. +

+

+ The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some time + before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words with + difficulty. “You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want to + hear why you did it.” +

+

+ “Hadn’t I cause?” she asked, standing with downcast + eyes. +

+

+ “Was it pure fiendishness?” +

+

+ “It was for Crimtyphon’s sake.” +

+

+ “She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so.” +

+

+ “You are loyal to her, and I’m loyal to him.” +

+

+ “Loyal? You’ve made a terrible blunder. She wasn’t my + mistress. I killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely + no part in it.” +

+

+ “Wasn’t she your lover?” asked Tydomin slowly. +

+

+ “You’ve made a terrible mistake,” repeated Maskull. + “I killed him because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of + his death as you are.” +

+

+ Tydomin’s face took on a hard look. “So you are guilty of two + deaths.” +

+

+ There was a dreadful silence. +

+

+ “Why couldn’t you believe me?” asked Maskull, who was + pale and sweating painfully. +

+

+ “Who gave you the right to kill him?” demanded Tydomin + sternly. +

+

+ He said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question. +

+

+ She sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. “Since + you murdered him, you must help me bury him.” +

+

+ “What’s to be done? This is a most fearful crime.” +

+

+ “You are a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? + What are we to you?” +

+

+ “Unfortunately you are right.” +

+

+ Another pause ensued. +

+

+ “It’s no use standing here,” said Tydomin. “Nothing + can be done. You must come with me.” +

+

+ “Come with you? Where to?” +

+

+ “To Disscourn. There’s a burning lake on the far side of it. + He always wished to be cast there after death. We can do that after + Blodsombre—in the meantime we must take him home.” +

+

+ “You’re a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried + when that poor girl must remain unburied?” +

+

+ “You know that’s out of the question,” replied Tydomin + quietly. +

+

+ Maskull’s eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing. +

+

+ “We must do something,” she continued. “I shall go. You + can’t wish to stay here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I couldn’t stay here—and why should I want to? You + want me to carry the corpse?” +

+

+ “He can’t carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will + ease your mind to carry it.” +

+

+ “Ease my mind?” said Maskull, rather stupidly. +

+

+ “There’s only one relief for remorse, and that’s + voluntary pain.” +

+

+ “And have you no remorse?” he asked, fixing her with a heavy + eye. +

+

+ “These crimes are yours, Maskull,” she said in a low but + incisive voice. +

+

+ They walked over to Crimtyphon’s body, and Maskull hoisted it on to + his shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not + offer to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. +

+

+ She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through + sunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the heat + was insufferable—streams of sweat coursed down his face, and the + corpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked in front + of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her white, womanish + calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His features grew sullen. At + the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed his burden to slip off his + shoulders on to the ground, where it lay sprawled every which way. He + called out to Tydomin. +

+

+ She quickly looked around. +

+

+ “Come here. It has just occurred to me”—he laughed—“why + should I be carrying this corpse—and why should I be following you + at all? What surprises me is, why this has never struck me before.” +

+

+ She at once came back to him. “I suppose you’re tired, + Maskull. Let us sit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?” +

+

+ “Oh, it’s not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you + know of any reason why I should be acting as your porter?” He + laughed again, but nevertheless sat down on the ground beside her. +

+

+ Tydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, so as + to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still glowing. + Maskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a moment or two + in silence. +

+

+ “Why don’t you speak?” he asked at last. +

+

+ “What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I’m not speaking of that light.” +

+

+ “Doesn’t it suggest anything at all?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it doesn’t. What does it matter?” +

+

+ “Not sacrifice?” +

+

+ Maskull grew sullen again. “Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?” +

+

+ “Hasn’t it entered your head yet,” said Tydomin, looking + straight in front of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, + “that this adventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you + have made some sort of sacrifice?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes’ + time Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost + angrily, threw Crimtyphon’s corpse over his shoulder again. +

+

+ “How far do we have to go?” he asked in a surly tone. +

+

+ “An hour’s walk.” +

+

+ “Lead on.” +

+

+ “Still, this isn’t the sacrifice I mean,” said Tydomin + quietly, as she went on in front. +

+

+ Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to pass + from peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they were able + to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make use of rude + bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented path. Underneath + were the black, impenetrable abysses—on the surface were the glaring + sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the chaotic tangle of strange plants. + There were countless reptiles and insects. The latter were thicker built + than those of Earth—consequently still more disgusting, and some of + them were of enormous size. One monstrous insect, as large as a horse, + stood right in the centre of their path without budging. It was + armour-plated, had jaws like scimitars, and underneath its body was a + forest of legs. Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it + crashing into the gulf. +

+

+ “What have I to offer, except my life?” Maskull suddenly broke + out. “And what good is that? It won’t bring that poor girl + back into the world.” +

+

+ “Sacrifice is not for utility. It’s a penalty which we pay.” +

+

+ “I know that.” +

+

+ “The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has + happened.” +

+

+ She waited for Maskull to come even with her. +

+

+ “Perhaps you imagine I’m not man enough—you imagine that + because I allowed poor Oceaxe to die for me—” +

+

+ “She did die for you,” said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic + voice. +

+

+ “That would be a second blunder of yours,” returned Maskull, + just as firmly. “I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I’m not in + love with life.” +

+

+ “Your life is not required.” +

+

+ “Then I don’t understand what you want, or what you are + speaking about.” +

+

+ “It’s not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That + would be compliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until + you feel there’s nothing else for you to do.” +

+

+ “It’s all very mysterious.” +

+

+ The conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful + crashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was + accompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they stood. + They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final disappearance + of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in front of them. + Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with all its teeming + animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic story. The new chasm + was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther edge the Alppain glow burned + blue just over the horizon. +

+

+ “Now we shall have to make a detour,” said Tydomin, halting. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of her with his third hand. “Listen to me, while + I try to describe what I’m feeling. When I saw that landslip, + everything I have heard about the last destruction of the world came into + my mind. It seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, and that the + world were really falling to pieces. Then, where the land was, we now have + this empty, awful gulf—that’s to say, nothing—and + it seems to me as if our life will come to the same condition, where there + was something there will be nothing. But that terrible blue glare on the + opposite side is exactly like the eye of fate. It accuses us, and demands + what we have made of our life, which is no more. At the same time, it is + grand and joyful. The joy consists in this—that it is in our power + to give freely what will later on be taken from us by force.” +

+

+ Tydomin watched him attentively. “Then your feeling is that your + life is worthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who asks?” +

+

+ “No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living + for is to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us. + Understand me. It isn’t cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but + heroism.... It’s hard to explain.” +

+

+ “Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It’s + a heavy one, but that’s what you seem to wish.” +

+

+ “That is so. In my present mood it can’t be too heavy.” +

+

+ “Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that + Crimtyphon’s dead, I’m tired of being a woman.” +

+

+ “I fail to comprehend.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish + to be a male. I see it isn’t worth while being a woman. I mean to + dedicate my own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine + together, and give them a common funeral in the burning lake. That’s + the sacrifice I offer you. As I said, it’s a hard one.” +

+

+ “So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is + difficult to understand.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t ask you to die. You will go on living.” +

+

+ “How is it possible without a body?” +

+

+ Tydomin gazed at him earnestly. “There are many such beings, even in + your world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. They are + in reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always longing to + act and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble-minded enough to + accept such a state, do you think?” +

+

+ “If it’s possible, I accept it,” replied Maskull + quietly. “Not in spite of its heaviness, but because of it. But how + is it possible?” +

+

+ “Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of + which you have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I don’t + hold you to your word, for unless it’s a free sacrifice I will have + nothing to do with it.” +

+

+ “I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, + you have my consent, once for all.” +

+

+ “Then we’ll leave it like that for the present,” said + Tydomin sadly. +

+

+ They proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed + rather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long + divergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly + formed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature, + insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against a + tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His + beardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in other + respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual type. + His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a sorb nor a + third arm—so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn. His forehead, + however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard assortment of + eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes. They went in pairs, + and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by a peculiar shining—the + rest remained dull, until their turn came. In addition to the upper eyes + he had the two lower ones, but they were vacant and lifeless. This + extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively alive and dead, gave the + young man an appearance of almost alarming mental activity. He was wearing + nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull seemed somehow to recognise the + face, though he had certainly never set eyes on it before. +

+

+ Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to rest + in the shade. +

+

+ “Question him, Maskull,” she said, rather carelessly, jerking + her head toward the stranger. +

+

+ Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, “What’s + your name, and where do you come from?” +

+

+ The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes, then + with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to Tydomin, + who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in a dry, manly, + nervous voice. “I am Digrung. I have arrived here from Matterplay.” + His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of whom he + reminded him. It was of Joiwind. +

+

+ “Perhaps you’re going to Poolingdred, Digrung?” he + inquired, interested. +

+

+ “As a matter of fact I am—if I can find my way out of this + accursed country.” +

+

+ “Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?” +

+

+ “She’s my sister. I’m on my way to see her now. Why, do + you know her?” +

+

+ “I met her yesterday.” +

+

+ “What is your name, then?” +

+

+ “Maskull.” +

+

+ “I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four + years. Is she well, and happy?” +

+

+ “Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?” +

+

+ “Her husband—yes. But where do you come from? I’ve seen + nothing like you before.” +

+

+ “From another world. Where is Matterplay?” +

+

+ “It’s the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea.” +

+

+ “What is it like there—how do you amuse yourselves? The same + old murders and sudden deaths?” +

+

+ “Are you ill?” asked Digrung. “Who is this woman, why + are you following at her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What’s + that corpse—why are you dragging it around the country with you?” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “I’ve already heard it said about Matterplay, + that if one sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately + springs up. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, Digrung?” +

+

+ “I don’t attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, + and I see insanity. That wouldn’t matter, but I don’t like to + see a man of intelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes.” +

+

+ “I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge + character. However, I don’t mind. Your opinion’s nothing to + me, Digrung. You’d better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his + own sake—but your feminine friend is sure to be curious about your + having been seen carrying a dead man.” +

+

+ Maskull’s underlip shot out. “Tell your sister nothing, + Digrung. Don’t mention my name at all. I don’t want her to + know about this meeting of ours.” +

+

+ “Why not?” +

+

+ “I don’t wish it—isn’t that enough?” +

+

+ Digrung looked impassive. +

+

+ “Thoughts and words,” he said, “which don’t + correspond with the real events of the world are considered most shameful + in Matterplay.” +

+

+ “I’m not asking you to lie, only to keep silent.” +

+

+ “To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can’t + accede to your wish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it.” +

+

+ Maskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example. +

+

+ She touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. “The + dead man is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you’ll + understand why he wishes you to hold your tongue.” +

+

+ “I guessed there was some foul play,” said Digrung. “It + doesn’t matter—I can’t falsify facts. Joiwind must know.” +

+

+ “You refuse to consider her feelings?” said Maskull, turning + pale. +

+

+ “Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on + realities, aren’t worth considering. But Joiwind’s are not of + that kind.” +

+

+ “If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without + seeing her; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting + when she hears your news.” +

+

+ “What are these strange relations between you?” demanded + Digrung, eying him with suddenly aroused suspicion. +

+

+ Maskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. “Good God! You don’t + doubt your own sister. That pure angel!” +

+

+ Tydomin caught hold of him delicately. “I don’t know Joiwind, + but, whoever she is and whatever she’s like, I know this—she’s + more fortunate in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really value + her happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or other.” +

+

+ “I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey.” +

+

+ “If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough.” +

+

+ Maskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. “I seem to be leaving + a wake of corpses behind me on this journey.” +

+

+ “Why a corpse? There’s no need to kill him.” +

+

+ “Thanks for that!” said Digrung dryly. “All the same, + some crime is about to burst. I feel it.” +

+

+ “What must I do, then?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very + interested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate + long. Don’t you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set + their feeble, obstinate wills against yours?” +

+

+ “That is a worse crime,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales.” +

+

+ Digrung laughed, but changed colour. “I was right then. The monster + has sprung into the light of day.” +

+

+ Maskull laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have the choice, and we + are not joking. Do as I ask.” +

+

+ “You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I + can’t talk to you. As for you, woman—sin must be like a + pleasant bath to you....” +

+

+ “There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a + passer-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you.” +

+

+ “Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are + legitimate and right.” +

+

+ “Do as you please,” said Tydomin. “If you come to grief, + your thoughts will hardly have corresponded with the real events of the + world, which is what you boast about. It is no affair of mine.” +

+

+ “I shall go on, and not back!” exclaimed Digrung, with angry + emphasis. +

+

+ Tydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. “Bear witness that I + have tried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick + decision in your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, + Digrung’s happiness or Joiwind’s. Digrung won’t allow + you to preserve them both.” +

+

+ “It won’t take me long to decide, Digrung, I gave you a last + chance to change your mind.” +

+

+ “As long as it’s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister + against her criminal friends.” +

+

+ Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. Instructed in + his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young man + tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet delight + immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he comprehended + the triumphant joys of “absorbing.” It satisfied the hunger of + the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung proved + feeble—he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly and + evenly into Maskull’s. The latter became strong and gorged. The + victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in + his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his + second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected + her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to + pick up Crimtyphon’s corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung’s + dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask. +

+

+ “Why hasn’t he altered?” he muttered to himself. +

+

+ Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot. + “He isn’t dead—that’s why. The expression you mean + is waiting for your death.” +

+

+ “Then is that my real character?” +

+

+ She laughed softly. “You came here to carve a strange world, and now + it appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there’s no doubt about it, + Maskull. You needn’t stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like + the rest of us. You are not a king, or a god.” +

+

+ “Since when have I belonged to him?” +

+

+ “What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of + Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and + strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed and + looking very grave. +

+

+ The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The + character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier + and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with + rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like a + mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the + intervening spaces were so wide—Tydomin, however, knew the way. The + intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape, + emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on + Maskull’s mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of + Disscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them. +

+

+ The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely + melted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood out + with terrific brilliance. They were directly beneath the bulk of the + mountain, which was not a mile away. It did not appear dangerous to climb, + but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay. +

+

+ It was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few + pale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, motionless + threads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. It was strewn with + detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks projected everywhere like iron + teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small black hole near the base, which might be + a cave. “That is where I live.” +

+

+ “You live here alone?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “It’s an odd choice for a woman—and you are not + unbeautiful, either.” +

+

+ “A woman’s life is over at twenty-five,” she replied, + sighing. “And I am far older than that. Ten years ago it would have + been I who lived yonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn’t have + happened.” +

+
+

+ A quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. It was + ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black. +

+

+ “Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun,” directed + Tydomin. He did so. +

+

+ She cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. “Does your resolution + still hold, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t it hold? My brains are not feathers.” +

+

+ “Follow me, then.” +

+

+ They both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening crash, + like heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull’s weakened + heart thumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, and dust, + swept past the cave entrance from above. If their going in had been + delayed by a single minute, they would have been killed. +

+

+ Tydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started + walking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold as ice. + At the first bend the light from the outer world disappeared, leaving them + in absolute blackness. Maskull kept stumbling over the uneven ground, but + she kept tight hold of him, and hurried him along. +

+

+ The tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the + atmosphere changed—or such was his impression. He was somehow led to + imagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin stopped, and + then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping hand encountered + stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered that it was a sort of + stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen inches from the ground. + She told him to lie down. +

+

+ “Has the time come?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ He lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to + happen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any gradation, + he lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer able to feel his + limbs or internal organs. His mind remained active and alert. Nothing + particular appeared to be taking place. +

+

+ Then the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He could + see nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He fancied that he + heard music, but while he was listening for it, it stopped. The light grew + stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the confused sound of distant + voices. +

+

+ Suddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone scream + faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything clearly. +

+

+ He was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, lighted by + electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, but by a man + dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face he was certainly + familiar, but under what circumstances he could not recall. Other people + stood in the background—they too were vaguely known to him. He sat + up and began to smile, without any especial reason; and then stood + upright. +

+

+ Everybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion—he + wondered why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in + particular he knew—the man at the farther end of the room, who paced + restlessly backward and forward, his face transfigured by stern, holy + grandeur; and that other big, bearded man—who was himself. + Yes—he was looking at his own double. But it was just as if a + crime-riddled man of middle age were suddenly confronted with his own + photograph as an earnest, idealistic youth. +

+

+ His other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not comprehend + the sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a short, + brutish-looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in an + extraordinary manner to everyone around him; and after that came straight + up to him—Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were + incomprehensible. A terrible expression came over the newcomer’s + face, and he grasped his neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull felt his + bones bending and breaking, excruciating pains passed through all the + nerves of his body, and he experienced a sense of impending death. He + cried out, and sank helplessly on the floor, in a heap. The chamber and + the company vanished—the light went out. +

+

+ Once more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this time + lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his hand. He + was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting for the + despairing anguish that filled his mind. +

+

+ Tydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. “Why are you back + so soon? I’ve not had time yet. You must return.” +

+

+ He caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a low + scream, as though in pain. “What does this mean—what are you + doing, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Krag—” began Maskull, but the effort to produce his + words choked him, so that he was obliged to stop. +

+

+ “Krag—what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my + arm.” +

+

+ He gripped her arm tighter. +

+

+ “Yes, I’ve seen Krag. I’m awake.” +

+

+ “Oh! You are awake, awake.” +

+

+ “And you must die,” said Maskull, in an awful voice. +

+

+ “But why? What has happened?...” +

+

+ “You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no + other reason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!” +

+

+ Tydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to + regain her self-possession. +

+

+ “You won’t offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?” +

+

+ “No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured + that you must die—you must expiate your fearful crimes.” +

+

+ “You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have + escaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come outside. + I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also been courteous + to you. I make no other supplication.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 11. ON DISSCOURN +

+

+ BY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre was at + its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward—a long + succession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them the bright, + stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand feet or more. + Maskull’s eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; he was still + holding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to speak, or to get + away. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed. +

+

+ After gazing at the country for a long time in silence, he turned toward + her. “Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?” +

+

+ “It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?” +

+

+ “It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow + calmer, and that’s what I want. I wish you to understand that what + is going to happen is not a murder, but an execution.” +

+

+ “It will taste the same,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ “When I have gone out of this country, I don’t wish to feel + that I have left a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be + fair to others. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy death + for you.” +

+

+ She shrugged her shoulders. “We must wait till Blodsombre is over.” +

+

+ “Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we + will both be cool by evening. We must start at once.” +

+

+ “Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry + Crimtyphon?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her strangely. +

+

+ “I grudge no man his funeral.” +

+

+ She painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they stepped + out into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on the head. + Maskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no compassion + entered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman had done him. +

+

+ The way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its base. It + was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by cracks and water + gullies; they could see the water, but could not get at it. There was no + shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in their blood + seemed to dry up. +

+

+ Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil’s delight at Tydomin’s. + “Sing me a song!” he called out presently. “A + characteristic one.” +

+

+ She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without any + sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird. The + song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to ascertain whether + he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of the grotesque melody began + to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the words were pure nonsense—or + else their significance was too deep for him. +

+

+ “Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that + stuff, woman?” +

+

+ Tydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with ghastly + jerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with her two left + arms. “It’s a pity we could not have met as friends, Maskull. + I could have shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps you will never + see. The wild, mad side. But now it’s too late, and it doesn’t + matter.” +

+

+ They turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the western + base. +

+

+ “Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?” asked + Maskull. +

+

+ “It is easiest to go to Sant.” +

+

+ “Will we see it from anywhere?” +

+

+ “Yes, though it is a long way off.” +

+

+ “Have you been there?” +

+

+ “I am a woman, and interdicted.” +

+

+ “True. I have heard something of the sort.” +

+

+ “But don’t ask me any more questions,” said Tydomin, who + was becoming faint. +

+

+ Maskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made a cup + of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay down her + burden. The gnawl water acted like magic—it seemed to replenish all + the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty sponge pores, + sucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self-possession. +

+

+ About three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second + corner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn. +

+

+ A hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the + mountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with a + sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere + immediately over a furnace. +

+

+ “The lake is underneath,” said Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country sloped + away in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a narrow path + channelled its way up through the rocks toward the towering summit of the + pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped + plateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was Sant—and + there and then he made up his mind that that should be his destination + that day. +

+

+ Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down Crimtyphon’s + body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined her; arrived at the + brink, he immediately flung himself at full length on his chest, to see + what could be seen of the lake of fire. A gust of hot, asphyxiating air + smote his face and set him coughing, but he did not get up until he had + stared his fill at the huge sea of green, molten lava, tossing and + swirling at no great distance below, like a living will. +

+

+ A faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he did so + his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his soul. All the + world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, and without + meaning.... +

+

+ He climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead + husband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and fondling his + violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the withered + lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all three arms, + she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and, after an + instant’s hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It + disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That was + Crimtyphon’s funeral. +

+

+ “Now I am ready, Maskull.” +

+

+ He did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing, erect + and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face was wan, and + there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew that it was a + phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at Poolingdred. +

+

+ “Turn around, Tydomin,” he said oddly, “and tell me what + you see behind you.” +

+

+ “I don’t see anything,” she answered, looking around. +

+

+ “But I see Joiwind.” +

+

+ Just as he was speaking, the apparition vanished. +

+

+ “Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it.” +

+

+ The woman fingered her chin thoughtfully. +

+

+ “I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of + my own sex—but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?” +

+

+ “I really saw Krag.” +

+

+ “Yes, some miracle must have taken place.” She suddenly + shivered. “Come, let us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come + here again.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Maskull, “it stinks of death and dying. But + where are we to go—what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get + away from this hellish land.” +

+

+ Tydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an abrupt, + bitter little laugh. “We make our journey together in singular + stages. Rather than be alone, I’ll come with you—but you know + that if I set foot in Sant they will kill me.” +

+

+ “At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it + possible?” +

+

+ “If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you + not take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it won’t + hold—your luck.” +

+

+ “Let us start,” said Maskull. “The luck I’ve had + so far is nothing to brag about.” +

+

+ Blodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but the + heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence at + conversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The land + fell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward Sant there + was a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau continued to + dominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour they seemed none the + nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant. +

+

+ By and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted + Maskull’s notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still + on, imbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches sprang + out, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to twigs and + leaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been artificially + fastened on, at equal distances from each other. +

+

+ As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity + and self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was so momentary + that he could be sure of nothing. +

+

+ “What may that be, Tydomin?” +

+

+ “It is Hator’s Trifork.” +

+

+ “And what is its purpose?” +

+

+ “It’s a guide to Sant.” +

+

+ “But who or what is Hator?” +

+

+ “Hator was the founder of Sant—many thousands of years ago. He + laid down the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol. + When I was a little child my father told me the legends, but I’ve + forgotten most of them.” +

+

+ Maskull regarded it attentively. +

+

+ “Does it affect you in any way?” +

+

+ “And why should it do that?” she said, dropping her lip + scornfully. “I am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries.” +

+

+ “A sort of gladness came over me,” said Maskull, “but + perhaps I am mistaken.” +

+

+ They passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid + parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and + more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The + peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a + different order of things. +

+

+ Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the + air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and began + to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree. Maskull, + who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following her example. + A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and body, his muscles + regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat with hard, slow, strong + throbs. +

+

+ “Food and body seem to agree well in this world,” he remarked + smiling. +

+

+ She glanced toward him. “Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, + but in your body.” +

+

+ “I brought my body with me.” +

+

+ “You brought your soul with you, but that’s altering fast, + too.” +

+

+ In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but + possessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles of a + cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry animal, + somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the most + extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to realise that + the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from branch to + branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned mouse is + thrown by a cat from paw to paw. +

+

+ He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest. +

+

+ “That’s a gruesome reversal of rôles, Tydomin.” +

+

+ “One can see you’re disgusted,” she replied, stifling a + yawn. “But that is because you are a slave to words. If you called + that plant an animal, you would find its occupation perfectly natural and + pleasing. And why should you not call it an animal?” +

+

+ “I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I + shall go on listening to this sort of language.” +

+

+ They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became + overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed + into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A + chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker, the + sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at himself, + Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a kind of + green hoarfrost. +

+

+ The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them, + against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts + gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and + self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were not + waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning. +

+

+ “Then they are dangerous?” +

+

+ “So we think,” she answered, watching them closely. +

+

+ “Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion.” +

+

+ Among the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking with + a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and Tydomin. + There was something unusual in his appearance—his form looked + extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real. +

+

+ “If there’s danger, he ought to be warned,” said + Maskull. +

+

+ “He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,” + returned the woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the + arm, and continued to watch. +

+

+ The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, but + turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the + proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full + height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He + seemed to be addressing the columns. +

+

+ While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a + series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He dropped + his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood still, + waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person grew more + and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be composed of + some substance heavier and denser than solid matter. +

+

+ Tydomin looked perplexed. +

+

+ “He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. + This is a day of days for me.” +

+

+ “He must be an individual of great importance,” murmured + Maskull. +

+

+ They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed + in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the wind, the + green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, + through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron. + There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting + chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were two flat + membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes were + expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stern + eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as + though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was + middle-aged. +

+

+ His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, every + object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin’s + person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and + Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening + fire began running through his veins. +

+

+ He turned to the woman. “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear + him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.” +

+

+ “Let Tydomin come too.” +

+

+ The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as + intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English. +

+

+ “You who know my name, also know my sex,” said Tydomin + quietly. “It is death for me to enter Sant.” +

+

+ “That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law.” +

+

+ “Is it so—and will it be accepted?” +

+

+ “The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming + underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.” +

+

+ The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood + talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it. +

+

+ “What is your name?” asked Maskull, with a beating heart. +

+

+ “My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean + of space, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter + of the despised sex, shall be my second.” +

+

+ “The new law? But what is it?” +

+

+ “Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both + of you, to me!” +

+

+ Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her sorb + and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes. When he + removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into twin + membranes like Spadevil’s own. +

+

+ Tydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while, + apparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her eyes + and, snatching up Spadevil’s hand, she bent over and kissed it + hurriedly many times. +

+

+ “My past has been bad,” she said. “Numbers have received + harm from me, and none good. I have killed—and worse. But now I can + throw all that away, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, + you and I have been fools together!” +

+

+ “Don’t you repent your crimes?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Leave the past alone,” said Spadevil, “it cannot be + reshaped. The future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this + very minute. Why do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?” +

+

+ “What is the name of those organs, and what is their function?” +

+

+ “They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new + world.” +

+

+ Maskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb. +

+

+ While the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law quietly + flowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream of clean water + which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive will. The law was duty. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 12. SPADEVIL +

+

+ Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their + own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his + eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him, but + his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external things + had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to whether they + served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or otherwise, they + had been pleasant or painful. Now these words “pleasure” and + “pain” simply had no meaning. +

+

+ The other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted with his + new mental outlook. He smiled at them. +

+

+ “You were quite right, Tydomin,” he said, in a bold, cheerful + voice. “We have been fools. So near the light all the time, and we + never guessed it. Always buried in the past or future—systematically + ignoring the present—and now it turns out that apart from the + present we have no life at all.” +

+

+ “Thank Spadevil for it,” she answered, more loudly than usual. +

+

+ Maskull looked at the man’s dark, concrete form. “Spadevil, + now I mean to follow you to the end. I can do nothing less.” +

+

+ The severe face showed no sign of gratification—not a muscle + relaxed. +

+

+ “Watch that you don’t lose your gift,” he said gruffly. +

+

+ Tydomin spoke. “You promised that I should enter Sant with you.” +

+

+ “Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, + but the truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us + journey together, all three of us.” +

+

+ The words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the fine, + driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He walked with a + long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order to keep up with him. + The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the middle. The fog was so dense + that it was impossible to see a hundred yards ahead. The ground was + covered by the green snow. The wind blew in gusts from the Sant highlands + and was piercingly cold. +

+

+ “Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He that is not more than a man is nothing.” +

+

+ “Where have you now come from?” +

+

+ “From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I + have brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after many + months’ absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me in + its simple splendour, like an upturned diamond.” +

+

+ “I see its shining,” said Maskull. “But how much does it + owe to ancient Hator?” +

+

+ “Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is + to me. Hator also was a brooder—but now his followers do not brood. + In Sant all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate pleasure, and + this hatred is the greatest pleasure to them.” +

+

+ “But in what way have they fallen off from Hator’s doctrines?” +

+

+ “For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare, + a limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, mocking + enemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of life, in order + to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the soul, he shielded + himself behind pain. This also his followers do, but they do not do + it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of vanity and pride.” +

+

+ “What is the Trifork?” +

+

+ “The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is + disentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is power + over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third fork is the + healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water.” +

+

+ “From what land did Hator come?” +

+

+ “It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many + legends told of him while there.” +

+

+ “We have a long way to go,” said Tydomin. “Relate some + of these legends, Spadevil.” +

+

+ The snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like a + phantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain. +

+

+ “In those days,” said Spadevil, “there existed in Ifdawn + a mountain island separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A + handsome girl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across + which men and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn Hator + on to this rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until it tumbled + into the depths below. ‘You and I, Hator, are now together, and + there is no means of separating. I wish to see how long the famous frost + man can withstand the breath, smiles and perfume of a girl.’ Hator + said no word, either then or all that day. He stood till sunset like a + tree trunk, and thought of other things. Then the girl grew passionate, + and shook her curls. She rose from where she was sitting she looked at + him, and touched his arm; but he did not see her. She looked at him, so + that all the soul was in her eyes; and then she fell down dead. Hator + awoke from his thoughts, and saw her lying, still warm, at his feet, a + corpse. He passed to the mainland; but how, it is not related.” +

+

+ Tydomin shuddered. “You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; + but your method is a nobler one.” +

+

+ “Don’t pity other women,” said Spadevil, “but love + the right. Hator also once conversed with Shaping.” +

+

+ “With the Maker of the World?” said Maskull thoughtfully. +

+

+ “With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his + world, and tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. But + Hator, answering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, iron words, + showed how this joy and beauty was but another name for the bestiality of + souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping smiled, and said, ‘How + comes it that your wisdom is greater than that of the Master of wisdom?’ + Hator said, ‘My wisdom does not come from you, nor from your world, + but from that other world, which you, Shaping, have vainly tried to + imitate.’ Shaping replied, ‘What, then, do you do in my world?’ + Hator said, ‘I am here falsely, and therefore I am subject to your + false pleasures. But I wrap myself in pain—not because it is + good, but because I wish to keep myself as far from you as possible. For + pain is not yours, neither does it belong to the other world, but it is + the shadow cast by your false pleasures.’ Shaping then said, ‘What + is this faraway other world of which you say “This is so—this + is not so?” How happens it that you alone of all my creatures have + knowledge of it?’ But Hator spat at his feet, and said, ‘You + lie, Shaping. All have knowledge of it. You, with your pretty toys, alone + obscure it from our view.’ Shaping asked, ‘What, then, am I?’ + Hator answered, ‘You are the dreamer of impossible dreams.’ + And then the story goes that Shaping departed, ill pleased with what had + been said.” +

+

+ “What other world did Hator refer to?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here.” +

+

+ “Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference,” said + Maskull. “The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is + mean and corrupt-natured.” +

+

+ “Guard you your pride!” returned Spadevil. “Do not make + law for the universe and for all time, but for yourself and for this + small, false life of yours.” +

+

+ “In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?” + asked Tydomin. +

+

+ “He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last + hour. When he saw that death could not be staved off longer he determined + to destroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; not from vanity, + but that they might see to what lengths the human soul can go in its + perpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. Standing erect, without + support, he died by withholding his breath.” +

+

+ A silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds refused + to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their thoughts became + frozen. +

+

+ When Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued power, + Maskull’s curiosity rose once more. “Your fellow countrymen, + then, Spadevil, are sick with self-love?” +

+

+ “The men of other countries,” said Spadevil, “are the + slaves of pleasure and desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are + the slaves of pleasure and desire, not knowing it.” +

+

+ “And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has + something noble in it.” +

+

+ “He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as + well as body can a man enter into true life.” +

+

+ “On what grounds do they reject women?” +

+

+ “Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. + Love for another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore injurious to + him.” +

+

+ “A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe,” said + Maskull. “But will they allow it?” +

+

+ “Spadevil knows, Maskull,” said Tydomin, “that be it + today or be it tomorrow, love can’t be kept out of a land, even by + the disciples of Hator.” +

+

+ “Beware of love—beware of emotion!” exclaimed Spadevil. + “Love is but pleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, + but of serving them.” +

+

+ “Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine.” +

+

+ “Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you + are a woman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul.” +

+

+ “But where there are no women, there are no children,” said + Maskull. “How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?” +

+

+ “Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the + yearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all parts, in + order to have the scars of their souls healed.” +

+

+ “In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what + simple formula do you offer?” +

+

+ “Iron obedience to duty,” answered Spadevil. +

+

+ “And if they ask ‘How far is this consistent with hatred of + pleasure?’ what will your pronouncement be?” +

+

+ “I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the + question. Hatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark fires + of self. Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one side, calm and + undisturbed.” +

+

+ “What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, + in order to avoid it?” +

+

+ “Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise.” +

+

+ Later in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on Spadevil’s + arm. +

+

+ “Fearful doubts are in my mind,” she said. “This + expedition to Sant may turn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, + Spadevil, and myself lying dead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not + there.” +

+

+ “We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others + will raise it.” +

+

+ “Show me a sign that you are not as other men—so that I may + know that our blood will not be wasted.” +

+

+ Spadevil regarded her sternly. “I am not a magician. I don’t + persuade the senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, + Tydomin? Then go there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no farther. + Is not this simple? What signs are necessary?” +

+

+ “Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man + could have done that.” +

+

+ “Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man + can do another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open their + eyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my life. Will + you not still accompany me?” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Tydomin, “I will follow you to the end. It + is all the more essential, because I keep on displeasing you with my + remarks, and that means I have not yet learned my lesson properly.” +

+

+ “Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we + are thinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be + planning or shaping in our mind.” +

+

+ Tydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied. +

+

+ “Why was Maskull not in the picture?” she asked. +

+

+ “You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. + There is nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is only + right and wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does not matter. + We are not gods, constructing a world, but simple men and women, doing our + immediate duty. We may die in Sant—so you have seen it; but the + truth will go on living.” +

+

+ “Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?” + asked Maskull. “These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least + likely of any to follow a new light.” +

+

+ “Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no + tree at all can be found, nothing will grow.” +

+

+ “I understand you,” said Maskull. “Here perhaps we are + going to martyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to + cattle.” +

+

+ Shortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland plain, + above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A dizzy, + artificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand steps of + varying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to the angles of + the precipices, led to the world overhead. In the place where they stood + they were sheltered from the cutting winds. Branchspell, radiantly shining + at last, but on the point of sinking, filled the cloudy sky with violent, + lurid colors, some of the combinations of which were new to Maskull. The + circle of the horizon was so gigantic, that had he been suddenly carried + back to Earth, he would by comparison have fancied himself to be moving + beneath the dome of some little, closed-in cathedral. He realised that he + was on a foreign planet. But he was not stirred or uplifted by the + knowledge; he was conscious only of moral ideas. Looking backward, he saw + the plain, which for several miles past had been without vegetation, + stretching back away to Disscourn. So regular had been the ascent, and so + great was the distance, that the huge pyramid looked nothing more than a + slight swelling on the face of the earth. +

+

+ Spadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the evening + sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever before. His + features were set hard in grimness. +

+

+ He turned around to his companions. “What is the greatest wonder, in + all this wonderful scene?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Acquaint us,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure + to pleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping’s + world.” +

+

+ “There is another wonder,” said Tydomin, and she pointed her + finger toward the sky overhead. +

+

+ A small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five hundred + feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall of cliff. It + was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with downward-pointing + fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and one or two tiny cloudlets + beneath the fingers looked like falling drops of blood. +

+

+ “Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?” said + Tydomin. “I have been close to death twice today. The first time I + was ready, but now I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the + man who has given me my first happiness.” +

+

+ “Do not think of death, but of right persistence,” replied + Spadevil. “I am not here to tremble before Shaping’s portents; + but to snatch men from him.” +

+

+ He at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed + upward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her eyes. + Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull climbed last. He + was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but his soul was at peace. As + they steadily ascended the almost perpendicular stairs, the sun got higher + in the sky. Its light dyed their bodies a ruddy gold. +

+

+ They gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as far as + the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here and there by + large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand were reddened by + the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled by evil-shaped clouds + and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying across the desert, drove the + fine particles of sand painfully against their faces. +

+

+ “Where now do you take us?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to + me, that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find + Maulger.” +

+

+ “And where will you seek him, in this bare country?” +

+

+ Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly. +

+

+ “It is not so far,” he said. “It is his custom to be in + that part where Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be + there, but I cannot say.” +

+

+ Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles + beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness. +

+

+ “The woman is tired, Spadevil,” he said. +

+

+ She smiled. “It’s but another step into the land of death. I + can manage it. Give me your arm, Maskull.” +

+

+ He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way. +

+

+ “The sun is now sinking,” said Maskull. “Will we get + there before dark?” +

+

+ “Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil + in your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall + arrive before dark.” +

+

+ The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the + western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid + colors. The wind grew colder. +

+

+ They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of which + were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was hard, + bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but he felt + braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other trees or + shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds or insects. + It was a desolate land. +

+

+ A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the plateau. + Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began. But + daylight had vanished there; Maskull’s eyes rested only on a vague + darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of + innumerable treetops. +

+

+ In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was + standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from + their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to + the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in the + mud close by his hand. +

+

+ They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became + aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out of + the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so. +

+

+ “This is not Maulger, but Catice,” said Spadevil. +

+

+ “Maulger is dead,” said Catice, speaking the same tongue as + Spadevil, but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull’s + ear was affected painfully. +

+

+ The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in years. + He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long and heavy, but + his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, lemon-coloured, and + anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of longitudinal ruts, a + quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which seemed clogged with ancient + dirt. The hair of his head was black and sparse. Instead of the twin + membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed but one; and this was in the + centre of his brow. +

+

+ Spadevil’s dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality + among dreams. +

+

+ “Has the trifork passed to you?” he demanded. +

+

+ “Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?” +

+

+ “I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith.” +

+

+ Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. “State it.” +

+

+ “Shall I speak with many words, or few words?” +

+

+ “If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. + If you wish to say what is, a few words will be enough.” +

+

+ Spadevil frowned. +

+

+ “To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill + pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is + planning right action, it has no time to think of pleasure.” +

+

+ “Is that the whole?” asked Catice. +

+

+ “The truth is simple, even for the simplest man.” +

+

+ “Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?” +

+

+ “I destroy nature, and set up law.” +

+

+ A long silence followed. +

+

+ “My probe is double,” said Spadevil. “Suffer me to + double yours, and you will see as I see.” +

+

+ “Come you here, you big man!” said Catice to Maskull. Maskull + advanced a step closer. +

+

+ “Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?” +

+

+ “As far as death,” exclaimed Maskull. +

+

+ Catice picked up a flint. “With this stone I strike out one of your + two probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will + recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall + obey your choice.” +

+

+ “Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men,” + said Spadevil. +

+

+ “The pain is nothing,” replied Maskull, “but I fear the + result.” +

+

+ “Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,” + said Tydomin, stretching out her hand. +

+

+ He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to + thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. “What brings this + kiss-lover to Sant?” he said. “How does she presume to make + the rules of life for the sons of Hator?” +

+

+ She bit her lip, and stepped back. “Well then, Maskull, accept! I + certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can.” +

+

+ “If he bids me, I must do it,” said Maskull. “But who + knows what will come of it?” +

+

+ Spadevil spoke. “Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most + wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking me + a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed will + escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men will know + that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here will live to + see that.” +

+

+ Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice + raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, brought + it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. Maskull cried + out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the function of the organ + was destroyed. +

+

+ There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the + blood. +

+

+ “What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?” inquired + Tydomin anxiously. +

+

+ He stopped, and stared hard at her. “I now see straight,” he + said slowly. +

+

+ “What does that mean?” +

+

+ He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled. + “Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and + refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same.” +

+

+ Spadevil gazed at him sternly. “Do you renounce my teaching?” +

+

+ Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil’s + image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he + knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect. +

+

+ “It is false.” +

+

+ “Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?” demanded + Tydomin. +

+

+ “I can’t argue as yet,” said Maskull. “At this + moment the world with its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I + feel a loathing for everything in it, including myself. I know no more.” +

+

+ “Is there no duty?” asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone. +

+

+ “It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of + other people.” +

+

+ Tydomin pulled at Spadevil’s arm. “Maskull has betrayed you, + as he has so many others. Let us go.” +

+

+ He stood fast. “You have changed quickly, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. “Why do men go on + living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?” +

+

+ “Pain is the native air of Surtur’s children. To what other + air do you wish to escape?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s children? Is not Surtur Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping’s masterpiece.” +

+

+ “Answer, Maskull!” said Spadevil. “Do you repudiate + right action?” +

+

+ “Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. + I wish you no harm.” +

+

+ The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence. +

+

+ Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. “The woman + must return home,” he said. +

+

+ “She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, + must die—backslider as you are!” +

+

+ Tydomin said quietly, “He has no power to enforce this. Are you + going to allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?” +

+

+ “It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from + death. Catice, I accept your judgment.” +

+

+ Tydomin smiled. “For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, + so I shall die with him.” +

+

+ Catice said to Maskull, “Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his + mistress, according to the laws of Hator.” +

+

+ “I can’t do that. I have travelled in friendship with them.” +

+

+ “You denied duty; and now you must do your duty,” said + Spadevil, calmly stroking his beard. “Whatever law you accept, you + must obey, without turning to right or left. Your law commands that we + must be stoned; and it will soon be dark.” +

+

+ “Have you not even this amount of manhood?” exclaimed Tydomin. +

+

+ Maskull moved heavily. “Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was + forced on me.” +

+

+ “Hator is looking on, and approving,” replied Catice. +

+

+ Maskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side of + the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments of rock, + the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in his arms, he + staggered back. +

+

+ He dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. When he + could speak again, he said, “I have a bad heart for the business. Is + there no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, and in the morning go + back to where you have come from. No one shall harm you.” +

+

+ Spadevil’s ironic smile was lost in the gloom. +

+

+ “Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after + that come back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose + the heavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin.” +

+

+ Maskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces. Spadevil + confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly. +

+

+ The huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a dark + shadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his features, and + breaking his neck. He died instantaneously. +

+

+ Tydomin looked away from the fallen man. +

+

+ “Be very quick, Maskull, and don’t let me keep him waiting.” +

+

+ He panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front of + Spadevil’s body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold. +

+

+ The blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull went to + her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his arms. There she + breathed out her last sighs. +

+

+ After that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands, while + he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic, spiritual + expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman came like a + flash; but he saw it. +

+

+ He stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him. +

+

+ “Is that the true likeness of Shaping?” +

+

+ “It is Shaping stripped of illusion.” +

+

+ “How comes this horrible world to exist?” +

+

+ Catice did not answer. +

+

+ “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here.” +

+

+ “I am wading through too much blood,” said Maskull. “Nothing + good can come of it.” +

+

+ “Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy.” +

+

+ Maskull meditated. +

+

+ “Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you + really have accepted his faith?” +

+

+ “He was a great-souled man,” replied Catice. “I see that + the pride of our men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I + too shall leave Sant, to reflect on all this.” +

+

+ Maskull shuddered. “Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but + a crime!” +

+

+ “His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged + down his ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, stranger, + but go away at once out of the land.” +

+

+ “Tonight? Where shall I go?” +

+

+ “To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you + on the way.” +

+

+ He linked his arm in Maskull’s, and they walked away into the night. + For a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind was + searching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of the + clouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no familiar + constellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was visible, and if so + which one it was. +

+

+ They came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the cliffside. It + resembled the one by which he had come up; but this descended to the + Wombflash Forest. +

+

+ “That is your path,” said Catice, “and I shall not come + any farther.” +

+

+ Maskull detained him. “Say just this, before we part company—why + does pleasure appear so shameful to us?” +

+

+ “Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home.” +

+

+ “And that is—” +

+

+ “Muspel,” answered Catice. +

+

+ Having made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back, + disappeared into the darkness. +

+

+ Maskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired, but + contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to discharge matter. + He lowered himself from step to step during what seemed an interminable + time. The rustling and sighing of the trees grew louder as he approached + the bottom; the air became still and warm. Inky blackness was all around + him. +

+
+

+ He at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he began to + trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After this had happened + a few times, he determined to go no farther that night. He heaped together + some dry leaves for a pillow, and immediately flung himself down to sleep. + Deep and heavy unconsciousness seized him almost instantly. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST +

+

+ He awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on his + side, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like night, but + that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to break and objects + begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or three amazing shadowy + shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of the twilight. He did not + realise that they were trees, until he turned over on his back and + followed their course upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared not + calculate the height, he saw their tops glittering in the sunlight, + against a tiny patch of blue sky. +

+

+ Clouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept interrupting + his view. In their silent passage they were like phantoms flitting among + the trees. The leaves underneath him were sodden, and heavy drops of + moisture splashed onto his head from time to time. +

+

+ He continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the + preceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something terrible + had happened, but what it was he could not for a long time recollect. Then + suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at dusk on + the Sant plateau—Spadevil’s crushed and bloody features and + Tydomin’s dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick. +

+

+ The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had + departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had + done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have been + labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had enslaved + him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They had forced him + to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had imagined that he + was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger. What was this nightmare + journey for—and would it continue, in the same way?... +

+

+ The silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound except the + pumping of blood through his arteries. +

+

+ Putting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had + disappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third eye was + on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not guess its use. + He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless. +

+

+ Now he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to recall + that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice. +

+

+ He got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no toilet to + make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. The nearest tree + appeared to him to have a circumference of at least a hundred feet. Other + dim boles looked equally large. But what gave the scene its aspect of + immensity was the vast spaces separating tree from tree. It was like some + gigantic, supernatural hall in a life after death. The lowest branches + were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was no underbrush; the + soil was carpeted only by the dead, wet leaves. He looked all around him, + to find his direction, but the cliffs of Sant, which he had descended, + were invisible—every way was like every other way, he had no idea + which quarter to attack. He grew frightened, and muttered to himself. + Craning his neck back, he stared upward and tried to discover the points + of the compass from the direction of the sunlight, but it was impossible. +

+

+ While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum + taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen + drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him. +

+

+ “Surtur!” he said, under his breath. The next moment he + marvelled at himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not + been in his thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him + and the drumming. +

+

+ He began to reflect—but in the meantime the sounds were travelling + away. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum + beats had this peculiarity—though odd and mystical, there was + nothing awe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of + some place and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again + they caused all his other sense impressions to appear false. +

+

+ The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for five + minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull followed + them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge, indistinct trees, + in the attempt to come up with the origin of the noise, but the same + distance always seemed to separate them. The forest from now onward + descended. The gradient was mostly gentle—about one foot in ten—but + in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts again it was + practically level ground for quite long stretches. There were great swampy + marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash. It was a matter of + indifference to him how wet he became—if only he could catch sight + of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was covered, and still + he was no nearer to doing so. +

+

+ The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt despondent, + tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some while, and was + half inclined to discontinue the pursuit. +

+

+ Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against a + man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against the trunk + with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was resting on a + staff. Maskull stopped short and stared at him. +

+

+ He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a + head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes—three + in number—were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin + was hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils, + and fastened like a woman’s. His features were absolutely tranquil, + but a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Did the drumming come from you?” +

+

+ The man shook his head. +

+

+ “What is your name?” +

+

+ He replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered that + the name he gave was “Dreamsinter.” +

+

+ “What is that drumming?” +

+

+ “Surtur,” said Dreamsinter. +

+

+ “Is it advisable for me to follow it?” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face. + “Not you, but Nightspore.” +

+

+ This was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore’s name + since his arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could frame + no more questions. +

+

+ “Eat this,” said Dreamsinter. “Then we will chase the + sound together.” He picked something up from the ground and handed + it to Maskull. He could not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round + nut, of the size of a fist. +

+

+ “I can’t crack it.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. Maskull + then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely disagreeable. +

+

+ “What am I doing in Tormance, then?” he asked. +

+

+ “You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men—never + doubting if your soul could endure that burning.” +

+

+ Maskull could hardly decipher the strangled words. +

+

+ “Muspel.... That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember + ever since I awoke.” +

+

+ Dreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen for + something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet. +

+

+ “Is it the drumming?” +

+

+ “Hush! They come.” +

+

+ He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm was + heard—this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet. +

+

+ Maskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, three men + in single file separated from one another by only a yard or so. They were + travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked neither to left nor + right. They were naked. Their figures were shining against the black + background of the forest with a pale, supernatural light—green and + ghostly. When they were abreast of him, about twenty feet off, he + perceived who they were. The first man was himself—Maskull. The + second was Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their faces were grim and + set. +

+

+ The source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to come + from some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves + in motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. At the same time a + low, faint music began. +

+

+ Its rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it did not + seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. It resembled + the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies the dreamer + everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering all his experiences + emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly orchestra, and was + strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull marched, and listened; and + as he listened, it grew louder and stormier. But the pulse of the drum + interpenetrated all the other sounds, like the quiet beating of reality. +

+

+ His emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours were + passing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way ahead, on a path + parallel with his own and Dreamsinter’s. The music pulsated + violently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, murderous-looking + knife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the phantom Maskull’s + back, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the wound the second time. + Maskull threw up his arms, and fell down dead. Krag leaped into the forest + and vanished from sight. Nightspore marched on alone, stern and unmoved. +

+

+ The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was roaring + with sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from the ground + under their feet. It was so grandly passionate that Maskull felt his soul + loosening from its bodily envelope. +

+

+ He continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to glow in + front of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as he had never + seen before, and such as he could not have imagined to be possible. + Nightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his chest bursting. The + light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of the music followed hard one + upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was + incapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over in + a faint that resembled death. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 14. POLECRAB +

+

+ The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and + opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent in the + forest. The strange light had gone, the music had ceased, Dreamsinter had + vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin’s blood, and + fell into a deep muse. +

+

+ “According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. + Perhaps Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a + specimen of his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my question.... + I ought not to have asked about myself, but about Surtur. Then I would + have got a different answer. I might have learned something... I might + have seen him.” +

+

+ He remained quiet and apathetic for a bit. +

+

+ “But I couldn’t face that awful glare,” he proceeded. + “It was bursting my body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does + really exist, and my journey stands for something. But why am I here, and + what can I do? Who is Surtur? Where is he to be found?” +

+

+ Something wild came into his eyes. +

+

+ “What did Dreamsinter mean by his ‘Not you, but Nightspore’? + Am I a secondary character—is he regarded as important; and I as + unimportant? Where is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to wait for + his time and pleasure—can I originate nothing?” +

+

+ He continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs. +

+

+ “I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the + strangest things will happen in it. It’s no use making plans, for I + can’t see two steps ahead—everything is unknown. But one thing’s + evident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and I + must sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur shows + himself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means death.” +

+

+ Through the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came again. + The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the last + mutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, without + getting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not return. +

+

+ He smiled queerly, and said aloud, “Thanks, Surtur! I accept the + omen.” +

+

+ When he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that had + been his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every movement of his + body. He made perforations in it all around, as close to his chest as + possible, with the fingernails of both hands; then he carefully twisted it + off. In that world of rapid growth and ungrowth he judged that the stump + would soon disappear. After that, he rose and peered into the darkness. +

+

+ The forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking twice + about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it would bring + him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper became gloomy and + morose—he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid with hunger; + moreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be a short one. Be + that as it may, he determined to sit down no more until the whole dismal + forest was at his back. +

+

+ One after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, avoided, and + passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky was still always + visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of day. He continued + tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, slippery miles—in + some places through bogs. When, presently, the twilight seemed to thin, he + guessed that the open world was not far away. The forest grew more + palpable and grey, and now he saw its majesty better. The tree trunks were + like round towers, and so wide were the intervals that they resembled + natural amphitheatres. He could not make out the colour of the bark. + Everything he saw amazed him, but his admiration was of the growling, + grudging kind. The difference in light between the forest behind him and + the forest ahead became so marked that he could no longer doubt that he + was on the point of coming out. +

+

+ Real light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a shadow. + The trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. As the minutes + went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and vivid; it had a tinge of + blue. He also imagined that he heard the sound of surf. +

+

+ All that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich with + colour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their leaves, + high above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the ground were + of a colour he could not name. At the same time he discovered the use of + his third eye. By adding a third angle to his sight, every object he + looked at stood out in greater relief. The world looked less flat—more + realistic and significant. He had a stronger attraction toward his + surroundings; he seemed somehow to lose his egotism, and to become free + and thoughtful. +

+

+ Now through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a mile + separated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to discover what + lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf louder. It was a + peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from water, yet was unlike + the sea. Almost immediately he came within sight of an enormous horizon of + dancing waves, which he knew must be the Sinking Sea. He fell back into a + quick walk, continuing to stare hard. The wind that met him was hot, fresh + and sweet. +

+

+ When he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide sands + of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his back to a + great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in front of him. + The sands continued east and west in a straight line, broken only here and + there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant orange colour, but there + were patches of violet. The forest appeared to stand sentinel over the + shore for its entire length. Everything else was sea and sky—he had + never seen so much water. The semicircle of the skyline was so vast that + he might have imagined himself on a flat world, with a range of vision + determined only by the power of his eye. The sea was unlike any sea on + Earth. It resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body colour of rich, + magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and blue were + everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was extraordinary. + Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they attained a height of + perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would suddenly sink downward and + outward, creating in their descent a series of concentric rings for long + distances around them. Quickly moving currents, like rivers in the sea, + could be seen, racing away from land; they were of a darker green and bore + no pinnacles. Where the sea met the shore, the waves rushed over the sands + far in, with almost sinister rapidity—accompanied by a weird, + hissing, spitting sound, which was what Maskull had heard. The green + tongues rolled in without foam. +

+

+ About twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a long, + low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished in outline. + It was Swaylone’s Island. Maskull was less interested in that than + in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain had set, but the + whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by its afterlight. + Branchspell in the zenith was white and overpowering, the day was + cloudless and terrifically hot; but where the blue sun had sunk, a sombre + shadow seemed to overhang the world. Maskull had a feeling of + disintegration—just as if two chemically distinct forces were + simultaneously acting upon the cells of his body. Since the afterglow of + Alppain affected him like this, he thought it more than likely that he + would never be able to face that sun itself, and go on living. Still, some + modification might happen to him that would make it possible. +

+

+ The sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once walked + toward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow line of the + forest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on him so savagely + that for a few minutes he felt sick and his head swam. He trod quickly + across the sands. The orange-coloured parts were nearly hot enough to + roast food, he judged, but the violet parts were like fire itself. He + stepped on a patch in ignorance, and immediately jumped high into the air + with a startled yell. +

+

+ The sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he + determined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin garment, + washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the sun to dry. + Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed out his beard and + hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until the water reached his + breast, and took to swimming—avoiding the spouts as far as possible + He found it no pastime. The water was everywhere of unequal density. In + some places he could swim, in others he could barely save himself from + drowning, in others again he could not force himself beneath the surface + at all. There were no outward signs to show what the water ahead held in + store for him. The whole business was most dangerous. +

+

+ He came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up and + down the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking around him. + He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical world, and whichever + way he turned, unknown and threatening forces were glaring at him. The + gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the awful, body-changing Alppain, + the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, the dark and eerie Swaylone’s + Island, the spirit-crushing forest out of which he had just escaped—to + all these mighty powers, surrounding him on every side, what resources had + he, a feeble, ignorant traveller from a tiny planet on the other side of + space, to oppose, to avoid being utterly destroyed?... Then he smiled to + himself. “I’ve already been here two days, and still I + survive. I have luck—and with that one can balance the universe. But + what is luck—a verbal expression, or a thing?” +

+

+ As he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to him, + and this time he was grave. “Surtur brought me here, and Surtur is + watching over me. That is my ‘luck.’... But what is Surtur in + this world?... How is he able to protect me against the blind and + ungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature?...” +

+

+ Hungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, for he + wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself which way he + should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along the shore, either + east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, cutting the sands about a + mile away. He walked toward it. +

+

+ The forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so squarely + turned to the sea that it looked as though it had been planed by tools. + Maskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but kept his head + constantly turned away from them, toward the sea—there it was more + cheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to be broad and + flat-banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. Its still, dark + green water curved around a bend out of sight, into the forest. The trees + on both banks overhung the water, so that it was completely in shadow. +

+

+ He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared. A + man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water. He + was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He was + short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms, + terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face was + plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and + walnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough and + leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there was no + trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling. He + possessed three eyes, of different colors—jade-green, blue, and + ulfire. +

+

+ In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an + elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded + together. +

+

+ Maskull addressed him. “Are you another of the wise men of the + Wombflash Forest?” +

+

+ The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so. + “I’m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.” +

+

+ “What name do you go by?” +

+

+ “Polecrab. What’s yours?” +

+

+ “Maskull. If you’re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I’m + famishing.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. +

+

+ “There’s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. + It’s easy enough to get you some more.” +

+

+ Maskull found this a pleasant speech. +

+

+ “But how long will it take?” he asked. +

+

+ The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, + screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto + the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to + his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It was + about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had six + legs, ending in strong claws. +

+

+ “Arg, go fish!” said Polecrab hoarsely. +

+

+ The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam + gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath the + surface, where it remained a great while. +

+

+ “Simple fishing,” remarked Maskull. “But what’s + the raft for?” +

+

+ “To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.” +

+

+ “That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.” +

+

+ Polecrab grunted again. “I’ve trained close on a hundred of + them. The bigheads learn best, but they’re slow swimmers. The + narrowheads swim like eels, but can’t be taught. Now I’ve + started interbreeding them—he’s one of them.” +

+

+ “Do you live here alone?” +

+

+ “No, I’ve got a wife and three boys. My wife’s sleeping + somewhere, but where the lads are, Shaping knows.” +

+

+ Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being. +

+

+ “The raft’s all crazy,” he remarked, staring at it. + “If you go far out in that, you’ve got more pluck than I have.” +

+

+ “I’ve been to Matterplay on it,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time clumsily, + as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When it landed at + its master’s feet, they saw that each set of claws was clutching a + fish—six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded to cut off + the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked up; these he + threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss. +

+

+ Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, walked + toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When they reached + the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and digging a shallow + hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder of the carcasses in + it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his own dinner. Maskull’s + nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was not yet to dine. +

+

+ Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, “These + are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me, + supposing you want company.” +

+

+ “How soon will that be?” +

+

+ “About twenty minutes,” replied the fisherman, over his + shoulder. +

+

+ Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When + the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching his + fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the sand + which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to Polecrab. +

+

+ In the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched in + silence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back again. + With every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He finished + before Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no value. When he + had done, he stood up. +

+

+ “Come and drink,” he said, in his husky voice. +

+

+ Maskull looked at him inquiringly. +

+

+ The man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up to a + certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had been tapped + and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth to the aperture, + sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its mother’s breast. + Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his eyes growing brighter. +

+

+ When his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree somewhat + like coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a new sort of + intoxication, however, for neither his will not his emotions were excited, + but only his intellect—and that only in a certain way. His thoughts + and images were not freed and loosened, but on the contrary kept labouring + and swelling painfully, until they reached the full beauty of an aperçu, + which would then flame up in his consciousness, burst, and vanish. After + that, the whole process started over again. But there was never a moment + when he was not perfectly cool, and master of his senses. When each had + drunk twice, Polecrab replugged the hole, and they returned to their bank. +

+

+ “Is it Blodsombre yet?” asked Maskull, sprawling on the + ground, well content. +

+

+ Polecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in the + water. “Just beginning,” was his hoarse response. +

+

+ “Then I must stay here till it’s over.... Shall we talk?” +

+

+ “We can,” said the other, without enthusiasm. +

+

+ Maskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were + exactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a wise + light. +

+

+ “Have you travelled much, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “Not what you would call travelling.” +

+

+ “You tell me you’ve been to Matterplay—what kind of + country is that?” +

+

+ “I don’t know. I went there to pick up flints.” +

+

+ “What countries lie beyond it?” +

+

+ “Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it’s a land of + mystics... I don’t know.” +

+

+ “Mystics?” +

+

+ “So I’m told.... Still farther north there’s Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Now we’re going far afield.” +

+

+ “There are mountains there—and altogether it must be a very + dangerous place, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take care of + yourself.” +

+

+ “This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I’m going + there?” +

+

+ “As you’ve come from the south, I suppose you’ll go + north.” +

+

+ “Well, that’s right enough,” said Maskull, staring hard + at him. “But how do you know I’ve come from the south?” +

+

+ “Well, then, perhaps you haven’t—but there’s a + look of Ifdawn about you.” +

+

+ “What kind of look?” +

+

+ “A tragical look,” said Polecrab. He never even glanced at + Maskull, but was gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes. +

+

+ “What lies beyond Lichstorm?” asked Maskull, after a minute or + two. +

+

+ “Barey, where you have two suns instead of one—but beyond that + fact I know nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean.” +

+

+ “And what’s on the other side of the ocean?” +

+

+ “That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has + ever crossed it and come back.” +

+

+ Maskull was silent for a little while. +

+

+ “How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the + only one travelling from curiosity.” +

+

+ “What do you mean by ‘your people’?” +

+

+ “True—you don’t know that I don’t belong to your + planet at all. I’ve come from another world, Polecrab.” +

+

+ “What to find?” +

+

+ “I came here with Krag and Nightspore—to follow Surtur. I must + have fainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the + others had vanished. Since then I’ve been travelling at random.” +

+

+ Polecrab scratched his nose. “You haven’t found Surtur yet?” +

+

+ “I’ve heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this + morning I came quite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, + I saw a vision—a being in man’s shape, who called himself + Surtur.” +

+

+ “Well, maybe it was Surtur.” +

+

+ “No, that’s impossible,” replied Maskull reflectively. + “It was Crystalman. And it isn’t a question of my suspecting + it—I know it.” +

+

+ “How?” +

+

+ “Because this is Crystalman’s world, and Surtur’s world + is something quite different.” +

+

+ “That’s queer, then,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ “Since I’ve come out of that forest,” proceeded Maskull, + talking half to himself, “a change has come over me, and I see + things differently. Everything here looks much more solid and real in my + eyes than in other places so much so that I can’t entertain the + least doubt of its existence. It not only looks real, it is + real—and on that I would stake my life.... But at the same time that + it’s real, it is false.” +

+

+ “Like a dream?” +

+

+ “No—not at all like a dream, and that’s just what I want + to explain. This world of yours—and perhaps of mine too, for that + matter—doesn’t give me the slightest impression of a dream, or + an illusion, or anything of that sort. I know it’s really here at + this moment, and it’s exactly as we’re seeing it, you and I. + Yet it’s false. It’s false in this sense, Polecrab. Side by + side with it another world exists, and that other world is the true one, + and this one is all false and deceitful, to the very core. And so it + occurs to me that reality and falseness are two words for the same thing.” +

+

+ “Perhaps there is such another world,” said Polecrab huskily. + “But did that vision also seem real and false to you?” +

+

+ “Very real, but not false then, for then I didn’t understand + all this. But just because it was real, it couldn’t have been + Surtur, who has no connection with reality.” +

+

+ “Didn’t those drum taps sound real to you?” +

+

+ “I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. + Still, they were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. + If I didn’t hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his.” +

+

+ Polecrab growled a little. “If Surtur chooses to speak to you in + that fashion, it appears he’s trying to say something.” +

+

+ “What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what’s your opinion—is + he calling me to the life after death?” +

+

+ The old man stirred uneasily. “I’m a fisherman,” he + said, after a minute or two. “I live by killing, and so does + everybody. This life seems to me all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is + wrong, and Surtur’s world is not life at all, but something else.” +

+

+ “Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?” +

+

+ “Ask the dead,” said Polecrab, “and not a living man.” +

+

+ Maskull continued. “In the forest I heard music and saw a light, + which could not have belonged to this world. They were too strong for my + senses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a vision as + well, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked on toward the + light, alone.” +

+

+ Polecrab uttered his grunt. “You have enough to think over.” +

+

+ A short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull. +

+

+ “So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it + may come to my putting an end to myself.” The fisherman remained + quiet and immobile. +

+

+ Maskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared at + him. “What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, while + in the body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I have done?” +

+

+ “I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can’t say. Perhaps there + are many others like you who would gladly know.” +

+

+ “Where? I should like to meet them.” +

+

+ “Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of + another stuff?” +

+

+ “I can’t be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out + toward Muspel, in most cases without being aware of it.” +

+

+ “In the wrong direction,” said Polecrab. +

+

+ Maskull gave him a strange look. “How so?” +

+

+ “I don’t speak from my own wisdom,” said Polecrab, + “for I have none; but I have just now recalled what Broodviol once + told me, when I was a young man, and he was an old one. He said that + Crystalman tries to turn all things into one, and that whichever way his + shapes march, in order to escape from him, they find themselves again face + to face with Crystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this + marching of shapes (which we call ‘forking’) springs from the + unconscious desire to find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction to the + right one. For Surtur’s world does not lie on this side of the one, + which was the beginning of life, but on the other side; and to get to it + we must repass through the one. But this can only be by renouncing our + self-life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of Crystalman’s + world. And when this has been done, it is only the first stage of the + journey; though many good men imagine it to be the whole journey.... As + far as I can remember, that is what Broodviol said, but perhaps, as I was + then a young and ignorant man, I may have left out words which would + explain his meaning better.” +

+

+ Maskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained thoughtful at + the end. +

+

+ “It’s plain enough,” he said. “But what did he + mean by our reuniting ourselves to Crystalman’s world? If it is + false, are we to make ourselves false as well?” +

+

+ “I didn’t ask him that question, and you are as well qualified + to answer it as I am.” +

+

+ “He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a + false, private world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and + distorted perceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly lose + nothing in truth and reality.” +

+

+ Polecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and stretched + his limbs. +

+

+ “I have told you all I know,” he said in a surly voice. + “Now let me go to sleep.” +

+

+ Maskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man let + himself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest. +

+

+ While he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall + sounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest. + Maskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at once + guessed that it was Polecrab’s wife. He sat up, but the fisherman + did not stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, looking down from + what appeared a great height. +

+

+ Her dress was similar to her husband’s, but covered her limbs more. + She was young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was lightly + tanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. Refinement was + stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of expression for a + woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great eyes kept flashing and + glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow hair, coiled up and + fastened, but so carelessly that some of the strands were flowing down her + back. +

+

+ When she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and + shades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far away + from it. +

+

+ “Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation,” she + said, addressing Maskull. “I was resting behind the tree, and heard + it all.” +

+

+ He got up slowly. “Are you Polecrab’s wife?” +

+

+ “She is my wife,” said Polecrab, “and her name is + Gleameil. Sit down again, stranger—and you too, wife, since you are + here.” +

+

+ They both obeyed. “I heard everything,” repeated Gleameil. + “But what I did not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after + you have left us.” +

+

+ “I know no more than you do.” +

+

+ “Listen, then. There’s only one place for you to go to, and + that is Swaylone’s Island. I will ferry you across myself before + sunset.” +

+

+ “What shall I find there?” +

+

+ “He may go, wife,” put in the old man hoarsely, “but I + won’t allow you to go. I will take him over myself.” +

+

+ “No, you have always put me off,” said Gleameil, with some + emotion. “This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and + I sit on the shore here, listening to Earthrid’s music travelling + faintly across the sea, I am tortured—I can’t endure it.... I + have long since made up my mind to go to the island, and see what this + music is. If it’s bad, if it kills me—well.” +

+

+ “What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?” + demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I think the music will answer all your questions better than + Polecrab has done—and possibly in a way that will surprise you.” +

+

+ “What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the + sea?” +

+

+ “A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the + man that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up + the most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.” +

+

+ “That may be so,” growled Polecrab. “But I have been to + the island by daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and + ancient. Those are Earthrid’s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.” +

+

+ “But will that music play tonight?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. “When + Teargeld rises, which is our moon.” +

+

+ “If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death + is due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as + for taking you with me, Gleameil—women die too easily in Tormance. I + have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another + woman.” +

+

+ Gleameil laughed, but said nothing. +

+

+ “Now go to sleep,” said Polecrab. “When the time comes, + I will take you across myself.” +

+

+ He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example; but + Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her. +

+

+ “Who was that other woman, Maskull?” she asked presently. +

+

+ He did not answer, but pretended to sleep. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 15. SWAYLONE’S ISLAND +

+

+ When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late + afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another meal + of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him. +

+

+ “Is it decided who is to go with me?” he asked, before sitting + down. +

+

+ “I go,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ “Do you agree, Polecrab?” +

+

+ The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others to + take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering. +

+

+ “Something strong is attracting her, and I can’t hold her + back. I don’t think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are + now nearly old enough to fend for themselves.” +

+

+ “Don’t take dejected views,” replied Gleameil sternly. + She was not eating. “I shall come back, and make amends to you. It’s + only for a night.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. “Let me go alone. + I would be sorry if anything happened.” +

+

+ Gleameil shook her head. +

+

+ “Don’t regard this as a woman’s caprice,” she + said. “Even if you hadn’t passed this way, I would have heard + that music soon. I have a hunger for it.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you any such feeling, Polecrab?” +

+

+ “No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are + attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she + is set on it. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps Earthrid’s music will + answer your questions, and hers too.” +

+

+ “What are your questions, Gleameil?” +

+

+ The woman shed a strange smile. “You may be sure that a question + which requires music for an answer can’t be put into words.” +

+

+ “If you are not back by the morning,” remarked her husband, + “I will know you are dead.” +

+

+ The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his mouth, + and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket. +

+

+ “Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?” She + considered a moment. +

+

+ “Yes—yes, I must see them.” +

+

+ He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed + through the air. +

+

+ A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the boys + were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity at the + first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was carrying the + youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance behind. The + child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in front of + Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked + on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with proudly raised head + and a baffling expression. +

+

+ Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, + respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest + was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked, and + his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. His facial muscles indicated + a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires. The second + showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was large and + heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes were almost + too sombre and penetrating for a child’s. +

+

+ “That one,” said Polecrab, pinching the boy’s ear, + “may perhaps grow up to be a second Broodviol.” +

+

+ “Who was that?” demanded the boy, bending his head forward to + hear the answer. +

+

+ “A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up + his mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.” +

+

+ “If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about + him.” +

+

+ “That would not have mattered,” replied the father. +

+

+ The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face was + mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity about it, + that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would wrinkle up + and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a tawny gold, + seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of his age. +

+

+ “He puzzles me,” said Polecrab. “He has a soul like sap, + and he’s interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most + remarkable of the bunch.” +

+

+ Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. He + took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never changed + countenance. +

+

+ “What do you make of him?” asked the fisherman. +

+

+ “It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. + Let me drink again, and then I shall have it.” +

+

+ “Go and drink, then.” +

+

+ Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. “In ages to + come,” he said, speaking deliberately, “he will be a grand and + awful tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well.” +

+

+ The eldest boy looked scornful. “I want to be none of those things. + I would like to be like that big fellow.” And he pointed his finger + at Maskull. +

+

+ He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. “Thanks + for the compliments old warrior!” he said. +

+

+ “He’s great and brawny,” continued the boy, “and + can hold his own with other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you + did that child?” +

+

+ Maskull complied. +

+

+ “That is being a man!” exclaimed the boy. “Enough!” + said Polecrab impatiently. “I called you lads here to say goodbye to + your mother. She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, + but we don’t know.” +

+

+ The second boy’s face became suddenly inflamed. “Is she going + of her own choice?” he inquired. +

+

+ “Yes,” replied the father. +

+

+ “Then she is bad.” He brought the words out with such force + and emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip. +

+

+ The old man cuffed him twice. “Is it your mother you are speaking + of?” +

+

+ The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said nothing. +

+

+ The youngest child spoke, for the first time. “My mother will not + come back, but she will die dancing.” +

+

+ Polecrab and his wife looked at one another. +

+

+ “Where are you going to, Mother?” asked the eldest lad. +

+

+ Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. “To the Island.” +

+

+ “Well then, if you don’t come back by tomorrow morning, I will + go and look for you.” +

+

+ Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. “This seems to me to + be a man’s journey,” he said. “I think it would be + better for you not to come, Gleameil.” +

+

+ “I am not to be dissuaded,” she replied. +

+

+ He stroked his beard in perplexity. “Is it time to start?” +

+

+ “It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “I’ll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait + there for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, + Gleameil.” +

+

+ He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. “Adieu, fisherman!” +

+

+ “You have repaid me well for my answers,” said the old man + gruffly. “But it’s not your fault, and in Shaping’s + world the worst things happen.” +

+

+ The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. “Farewell, + big man!” he said. “But guard my mother well, as well as you + are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you.” +

+

+ Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The + glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes + again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far + as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled on + to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of Alppain + had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating wind, + listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea with its + pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone’s Island. +

+

+ “What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all + she loves the most?” he meditated. “It sounds unholy. Will it + tell me what I want to know? Can it?” +

+

+ In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning + his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. + Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed + by Maskull, without looking at him, or making any salutation, and + proceeded out to sea. +

+

+ While he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the boys + came in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest-born was + holding her hand, and talking; and the other two were behind. She was calm + and smiling, but seemed abstracted. +

+

+ “What is your husband doing with the raft?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “He’s putting it in position and we shall wade out and join + it,” she answered, in her low-toned voice. +

+

+ “But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?” +

+

+ “Don’t you see that current running away from land? See, he is + approaching it. That will take us straight there.” +

+

+ “But how can you get back?” +

+

+ “There is a way; but we need not think of that today.” +

+

+ “Why shouldn’t I come too?” demanded the eldest boy. +

+

+ “Because the raft won’t carry three. Maskull is a heavy man.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said the boy. “I know where + there is wood for another raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to + work.” +

+

+ Polecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position he + desired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point made a + sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his wife and + Maskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and broke down a + little. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and tears glistened in + his eyes; but the younger children stared wide-eyed, and displayed no + emotion. +

+

+ Gleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water covered + first their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as high as their + waists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let himself down into the + water, and assisted his wife to climb over the side. When she was up, she + bent down and kissed him. No words were exchanged. Maskull scrambled up on + to the front part of the raft. The woman sat cross-legged in the stern, + and seized the pole. +

+

+ Polecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her pole + until they had got within its power. The raft immediately began to travel + swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion. +

+

+ The boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull turned his + back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was wading back to the + shore. +

+

+ For upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. No + sound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around them, + and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its way smoothly + through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway of safety, the + beautiful dangers surrounding them were an exhilarating experience. The + air was fresh and clean, and the heat from Branchspell, now low in the + west, was at last endurable. The riot of sea colors had long since + banished all sadness and anxiety from his heart. Yet he felt such a grudge + against the woman for selfishly forsaking those who should have been dear + to her that he could not bring himself to begin a conversation. +

+

+ But when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught sight + of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon-pink in the + evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the silence by inquiring + what they were. +

+

+ “It is Lichstorm,” said Gleameil. +

+

+ Maskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her, his + eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he continued + to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles, and now he could + better estimate the enormous height of the trees. Overtopping them, far + away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not quite sure, that he could + distinguish Disscourn as well. +

+

+ “Now that we are alone in a strange place,” said Gleameil, + averting her head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the + water, “tell me what you thought of Polecrab.” +

+

+ Maskull paused before answering. “He seemed to me like a mountain + wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all. But + then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of more + mountain—and even then it is not the top.” +

+

+ “You read character well, and have great perception,” remarked + Gleameil quietly. “Now say what I am.” +

+

+ “In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that’s + all I know about you.” +

+

+ “What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?” +

+

+ “You heard.” +

+

+ “Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and + boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world + for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear + all false and vulgar.” +

+

+ “Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to + satisfy our self-nature at the expense of other people?” +

+

+ “No, it’s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other + world these words have no meaning.” +

+

+ There was a silence. +

+

+ “It’s useless to discuss such topics,” said Maskull. + “The choice is now out of our hands, and we must go where we are + taken. What I would rather speak about is what awaits us on the island.” +

+

+ “I am ignorant—except that we shall find Earthrid there.” +

+

+ “Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone’s Island?” +

+

+ “They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about + him. As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.” +

+

+ “If you please,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “In a far-back age,” began Gleameil, “when the seas were + hot, and clouds hung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with + transformations, Swaylone came to this island, on which men had never + before set foot, and began to play his music—the first music in + Tormance. Nightly, when the moon shone, people used to gather on this + shore behind us, and listen to the faint, sweet strains floating from over + the sea. One night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was passing this + way in company with Krag. They listened a while to the music, and Shaping + said ‘Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This is my world and my + music.’ Krag stamped with his foot, and laughed. ‘You must do + better than that, if I am to admire it. Let us pass over, and see this + bungler at work.’ Shaping consented, and they passed over to the + island. Swaylone was not able to see their presence. Shaping stood behind + him, and breathed thoughts into his soul, so that his music became ten + times lovelier, and people listening on that shore went mad with sick + delight. ‘Can any strains be nobler?’ demanded Shaping. Krag + grinned and said, ‘You are naturally effeminate. Now let me try.’ + Then he stood behind Swaylone, and shot ugly discords fast into his head. + His instrument was so cracked, that never since has it played right. From + that time forth Swaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called + to folk more than the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island + during his lifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could endure + them; all died. After Swaylone’s death, another musician took up the + tale; and so the light has passed down from torch to torch, till now + Earthrid bears it.” +

+

+ “An interesting legend,” commented Maskull. “But who is + Krag?” +

+

+ “They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it—a + spirit compounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not know + how to transform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the world, for he + dogs Shaping’s footsteps everywhere, and whatever the latter does, + he undoes. To love he joins death; to sex, shame; to intellect, madness; + to virtue, cruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody entrails. These are Krag’s + actions, so the lovers of the world call him ‘devil.’ They don’t + understand, Maskull, that without him the world would lose its beauty.” +

+

+ “Krag and beauty!” exclaimed he, with a cynical smile. +

+

+ “Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to + discover. That beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, children, + and happiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?” +

+

+ “Surely.” +

+

+ “That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see + beauty in its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from it.” +

+

+ “Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far + from my mind.” +

+

+ She did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes, to + hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more. There + was no more talk until they reached the island. +

+

+ The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores. + Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared to + be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all broad + sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness of + insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The current + bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a sharp + angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land. +

+

+ Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed + her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the + current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the + way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set. +

+

+ Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a single + glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed her. The + cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and easy, while + the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon. +

+

+ A little way off, on their left, something white was shining. +

+

+ “You need not go to it,” said the woman. “It can be + nothing else than one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look—there + is another one over there!” +

+

+ “This brings it home!” remarked Maskull, smiling. +

+

+ “There is nothing comical in having died for beauty,” said + Gleameil, bending her brows at him. +

+

+ And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones, + from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it were + a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell into a + sombre mood. +

+

+ It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set eyes + on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way + different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were + fast becoming invisible. +

+

+ “That is Matterplay,” said the woman, pointing her finger + toward some low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off + than Wombflash. +

+

+ “I wonder how Digrung passed over,” meditated Maskull. +

+

+ Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they saw a + small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The sunset + colors of the sky were reflected in its waters. +

+

+ “That must be Irontick,” remarked Gleameil. +

+

+ “What is that?” +

+

+ “I have heard that it’s the instrument Earthrid plays on.” +

+

+ “We are getting close,” responded he. “Let us go and + investigate.” +

+

+ When they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the + farther side, in an attitude of sleep. +

+

+ “If that’s not the man himself, who can it be?” said + Maskull. “Let’s get across the water, if it will bear us; it + will save time.” +

+

+ He now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope which + bounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with greater dignity, + keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if fascinated. When Maskull + reached the water’s edge, he tried it with one foot, to discover if + it would carry his weight. Something unusual in its appearance led him to + have doubts. It was a tranquil, dark, and beautifully reflecting sheet of + water; it resembled a mirror of liquid metal. Finding that it would bear + him, and that nothing happened, he placed his second foot on its surface. + Instantly he sustained a violent shock throughout his body, as from a + powerful electric current; and he was hurled in a tumbled heap back on to + the bank. +

+

+ He picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started walking + around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the half circuit + together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him with his foot. He + woke up, and blinked at them. +

+

+ His face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable + expression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and head. On + his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a perfectly circular + organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. He had an unpleasant + smell. He appeared to be of young middle age. +

+

+ “Wake up, man,” said Maskull sharply, “and tell us if + you are Earthrid.” +

+

+ “What time is it?” counterquestioned the man. “Does it + want long to moonrise?” +

+

+ Without appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning away + from them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and to eat it + halfheartedly. +

+

+ “Now, how can you eat that filth?” demanded Maskull, in + disgust. +

+

+ “Don’t be angry, Maskull,” said Gleameil, laying hold of + his arm, and flushing a little. “It is Earthrid—the man who is + to help us.” +

+

+ “He has not said so.” +

+

+ “I am Earthrid,” said the other, in his weak and muffled + voice, which, however, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. + “What do you want here? Or rather, you had better get away as + quickly as you can, for it will be too late when Teargeld rises.” +

+

+ “You need not explain,” exclaimed Maskull. “We know your + reputation, and we have come to hear your music. But what’s that + organ for on your forehead?” +

+

+ Earthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again. +

+

+ “That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don’t + stand and argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the island + with corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else.” +

+

+ Darkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape. +

+

+ “You are rather bigmouthed,” said Maskull coolly. “But + after we have heard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself.” +

+

+ “You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?” +

+

+ A flame danced in Gleameil’s eyes. +

+

+ “Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument,” she said in + her intense way. “But it is in the soul of the Master.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Earthrid, “but that is not all. I will tell + you what it is. In Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the + mystery of the Three in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, + has three directions. Length is the line which shuts off what is, from + what is not. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what manner one + thing of what-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the path which leads + from what-is, to our own body. In music it is not otherwise. Tone is + existence, without which nothing at all can be. Symmetry and Numbers are + the manner in which tones exist, one with another. Emotion is the movement + of our soul toward the wonderful world that is being created. Now, men + when they make music are accustomed to build beautiful tones, because of + the delight they cause. Therefore their music world is based on pleasure; + its symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet and lovely.... + But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its symmetry is wild, + and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and terrible.” +

+

+ “If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come + here,” said Maskull. “Still, explain—why can’t + harsh tones have simple symmetry of form? And why must they necessarily + cause more profound emotions in us who listen?” +

+

+ “Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of + their clashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, which is + rough and earnest.” +

+

+ “You may call it music,” remarked Maskull thoughtfully, + “but to me it bears a closer resemblance to actual life.” +

+

+ “If Shaping’s plans had gone straight, life would have been + like that other sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that + intention in the world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life + resembles my music and mine is the true music.” +

+

+ “Shall we see living shapes?” +

+

+ “I don’t know what my mood will be,” returned Earthrid. + “But when I have finished, you shall adventure your tune, and + produce whatever shapes you please—unless, indeed, the tune is out + of your own big body.” +

+

+ “The shocks you are preparing may kill us,” said Gleameil, in + a low, taut voice, “but we shall die, seeing beauty.” +

+

+ Earthrid looked at her with a dignified expression. +

+

+ “Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I + put into my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed a woman + to call it ‘beauty.’ But if this is beauty, what is ugliness?” +

+

+ “That I can tell you, Master,” replied Gleameil, smiling at + him. “Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues + fresh from the womb of nature.” +

+

+ Earthrid stared at her, without response. “Teargeld is rising,” + he said at last. “And now you shall see—though not for long.” +

+

+ As the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in the + dark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was wholly up. + It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. Its shadowy parts + stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it did not give Maskull + the impression of being a dead world. Branchspell shone on the whole of + it, but Alppain only on a part. The broad crescent that reflected + Branchspell’s rays alone was white and brilliant; but the part that + was illuminated by both suns shone with a greenish radiance that had + almost solar power, and yet was cold and cheerless. On gazing at that + combined light, he felt the same sense of disintegration that the + afterglow of Alppain had always caused in him; but now the feeling was not + physical, but merely aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to him, + but disturbing and mystical. +

+

+ Earthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright moonlight, + his face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its loose, weak, + disagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty grandeur. He clapped his + hands together meditatively two or three times, and walked up and down. + The others stood together, watching him. +

+

+ Then he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side, placed + his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same time + stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact with the + water. +

+

+ While Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he felt a + stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had been pierced + by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, and as he did so he + saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was now subsiding again. The + next moment he was knocked down by a violent blow in the mouth, delivered + by an invisible hand. He picked himself up; and observed that a second + spout had formed. No sooner was he on his legs, than a hideous pain + hammered away inside his brain, as if caused by a malignant tumour. In his + agony, he stumbled and fell again; this time on the arm Krag had wounded. + All his other mishaps were forgotten in this one, which half stunned him. + It lasted only a moment, and then sudden relief came, and he found that + Earthrid’s rough music had lost its power over him. +

+

+ He saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming thick + and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But Gleameil was + not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a heap, without moving. + Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was dead. When he reached + her, he discovered that she was dead. In what state of mind she had died, + he did not know, for her face wore the vulgar Crystalman grin. The whole + tragedy had not lasted five minutes. +

+

+ He went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his playing. +

+

+ “You have been as good as your word, musician,” he said. + “Gleameil is dead.” +

+

+ Earthrid tried to collect his scattered senses. +

+

+ “I warned her,” he replied, sitting up. “Did I not beg + her to go away? But she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty + she spoke about. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the rhythm. + Neither have you.” +

+

+ Maskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing. +

+

+ “You should not have interrupted me,” went on Earthrid. + “When I am playing, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost + the thread of my ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over + again.” +

+

+ “If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next.” +

+

+ The man glanced up quickly. +

+

+ “That can’t be.” +

+

+ “It must be,” said Maskull decisively. “I prefer playing + to listening. Another reason is that you will have every night, but I have + only tonight.” +

+

+ Earthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. “With + your recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick belongs to me, + and until you have learned how to play, you would only break the + instrument.” +

+

+ “Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try.” +

+

+ The musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. “Do you intend + to take it from me by violence?” +

+

+ “Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I + shall give you time to go away somewhere.” +

+

+ “How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don’t + understand what you are doing.” +

+

+ “Go, or stay!” responded Maskull. “I give you till the + water gets smooth again. After that, I begin playing.” +

+

+ Earthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to Maskull. +

+

+ “Do you swear it?” +

+

+ “How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you + are safe.” +

+

+ Earthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and then + moved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up he glanced + over his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was happening. In + another minute or so, he had disappeared over the crest, travelling in the + direction of the shore that faced Matterplay. +

+

+ Later, when the water was once more tranquil, Maskull sat down by its + edge, in imitation of Earthrid’s attitude. He knew neither how to + set about producing his music, nor what would come of it. But audacious + projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes—and, + above all, one shape, that of Surtur. +

+

+ Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in + his mind. +

+

+ He said, “What themes are in common music, shapes are + in this music. The composer does not find his theme by picking out single + notes; but the whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it + must be with shapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the + undivided ideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and then, + reflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the first time + made acquainted with them. So it must be.” +

+

+ The instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing from + him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of flowing created a + sensation of joyful mastery. With this was curiosity to learn what they + would prove to be. Spouts formed on the lake in increasing numbers, but he + experienced no pain. His thoughts, which he knew to be music, did not + issue from him in a steady, unbroken stream, but in great, rough gushes, + succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these gushes came, the whole lake + broke out in an eruption of spouts. +

+

+ He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his + intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will. He + could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to force + them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition. +

+

+ At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a + strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased so + imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the + Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not give + it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and sacred + awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The spouts thickened + like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high. Teargeld looked + faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast no shadows. The + wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm. Shortly afterward + it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He saw no shapes, and + redoubled his efforts. +

+

+ His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole + soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not know + their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills began + to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from their + bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the landscape had + altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon disappeared + entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying, but Maskull + played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would take shape. The + hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping from the tops of the + spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was dry. +

+

+ The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that it + was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was + becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He + strained and strained.... +

+

+ Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell + through, and his instrument was broken. +

+

+ The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could not + see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in total + blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a dead silence. His + thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his foot no longer touched + water, but hung in space. +

+

+ He was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or + feel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in the + newly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its descent had met + fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many yards high, and came down + heavily. He lost consciousness.... +

+

+ When he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was gleaming + brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but it was now a + crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not penetrate. The hills + encircling it were torn, as if by heavy gunfire. A few thunderclouds were + floating in the air at no great height, from which branched lightning + descended to the earth incessantly, accompanied by alarming and singular + crashes. +

+

+ He got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was uninjured, + he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and then started to + walk painfully toward the northern shore. +

+

+ When he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped gently + down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through traces of his + rough work. The country was carved into scarps, grooves, channels, and + craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs overlooking the beach, and + found that these also were partly broken down by landslips. He got down + onto the sand and stood looking over the moonlit, agitated sea, wondering + how he could contrive to escape from this island of failure. +

+

+ Then he saw Earthrid’s body, lying quite close to him. It was on its + back. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see them + anywhere. Earthrid’s teeth were buried in the flesh of his right + forearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning physical agony. + The skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was stained by darker + discolourations, which were wounds. The sand about him was dyed by the + pool of blood which had long since filtered through. +

+

+ Maskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the + sweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for daybreak. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 16. LEEHALLFAE +

+

+ At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow straight + toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day, he saw a + great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty feet out of + the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must have been enormously + deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, through the heavy seas. + Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few minutes. Then it dawned on him that + it might be a good thing to investigate its nature. Without stopping to + weigh the danger, he immediately swam out, caught hold of the lowest + branch, and swung himself up. +

+

+ He looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top, + terminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made his + way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were covered + with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at the crown, + he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there were membranes + like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting some form of low + intelligence. +

+

+ At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore, + and began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his hand out, + and, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the membranes. The tree + sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was steady again, + Maskull removed his hand; they at once drifted back to shore. He thought a + bit, and then started experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was as + he had guessed—these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon, + and whichever way the light came from, the tree would travel. +

+

+ A rather defiant smile crossed Maskull’s face as it struck him that + it might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as + Matterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into execution. + Tearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up all the membranes + except the ones that faced the north. The tree instantly left the island, + and definitely put out to sea. It travelled due north. It was not moving + at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay was possibly forty + miles distant. +

+

+ The great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the + breaking seas hissed through the lower branches—Maskull rested high + and dry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow rate of + progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward the + north-west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to juggle + with the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in piloting his + tree into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were fairly in its + rapids, he blinded the crown entirely, and thenceforward the current acted + in the double capacity of road and steed. +

+

+ Maskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the remainder + of the night. +

+

+ When his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld was + setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with the + colours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the light over + the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land—probably + Matterplay—lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, perhaps a + mile away. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but began to skirt + the coast without drawing any closer to it. As soon as Maskull realised + the fact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its channel and started drifting + it inshore. The eastern sky blazed up suddenly with violent dyes, and the + outer rim of Branchspell lifted itself above the sea. The moon had already + sunk. +

+

+ The shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was like + Swaylone’s Island—the same wide sands, small cliffs, and + rounded, insignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the + early-morning sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed + and morose, cared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, + clambered swiftly down through the branches and dropped into the sea. By + the time he had swam ashore, the white, stupendous sun was high above the + horizon. +

+

+ He walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable distance, + without having any special intention in his mind. He thought he would go + on until he came to some creek or valley, and then turn up it. The sun’s + rays were cheering, and began to relieve him of his oppressive night + weight. After strolling along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped + by a broad stream that flowed into the sea out of a kind of natural + gateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid green, + all filled with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did it look + that he flung himself face downward on the ground and took a prolonged + draught. When he got up again his eyes started to play pranks—they + became alternately blurred and clear.... It may have been pure + imagination, but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him. +

+

+ He followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and then + for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared, like a + jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare and lifeless, + but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely fertile; he had + never seen such fertility. It wound up among the hills, and all that he + was looking at was its broad lower end. The floor of the valley was about + half a mile wide; the stream that ran down its middle was nearly a hundred + feet across, but was exceedingly shallow—in most places not more + than a few inches deep. The sides of the valley were about seventy feet + high, but very sloping; they were clothed from top to bottom with little, + bright-leaved trees—not of varied tints of one colour, like Earth + trees, but of widely diverse colours, most of which were brilliant and + positive. +

+

+ The floor itself was like a magician’s garden. Densely interwoven + trees, shrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for possession + of it. The forms were strange and grotesque, and each one seemed + different; the colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and stem were + equally peculiar—all the different combinations of the five primary + colours of Tormance seemed to be represented, and the result, for Maskull + was a sort of eye chaos. So rank was the vegetation that he could not + fight his way through it; he was obliged to take to the riverbed. The + contact of the water created an odd tingling sensation throughout his + body, like a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a few + extraordinary-looking winged reptiles of small size kept crossing the + valley from hill to hill. Swarms of flying insects clustered around him, + threatening mischief, but in the end it turned out that his blood was + disagreeable to them, for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling + creatures resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in + myriads on the banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use + their weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into + the water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a + hideous monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape—if + it resembled anything—a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. + They stared at one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with cool + and wary ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened to him. +

+

+ His eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring passed + away and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in character. He + was looking right through the animal’s body and could distinguish + all its interior parts. The outer crust, however, and all the hard tissues + were misty and semi-transparent; through them a luminous network of + blood-red veins and arteries stood out in startling distinctness. The hard + parts faded away to nothingness, and the blood system alone was left. Not + even the fleshy ducts remained. The naked blood alone was visible, flowing + this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the shape of the + monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a continuous + liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a million + individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by the rapid + motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled minute suns + in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a double drift of + stars, streaming through space. One drift was travelling toward a fixed + point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it. He + recognised the former as the veins of the beast, the latter as the + arteries, and the fixed point as the heart. +

+

+ While he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network went out + suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean had stood, there + was nothing. Yet through this “nothing” he could not see the + landscape. Something was standing there that intercepted the light, though + it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. And now the object, + which could no longer be perceived by vision, began to be felt by emotion. + A delightful, springlike sense of rising sap, of quickening pulses of + love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity—took possession of his + being, and, strangely enough, he identified it with the monster. Why that + invisible brute should cause him to feel young, sexual, and audacious, he + did not ask himself, for he was fully occupied with the effect. But it was + as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and he were face to face + with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into his own body. +

+

+ The sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the + streaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed to the + red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with more and + more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew fainter. + Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed by the crust—the + creature stood opposite Maskull in its old formidable ugliness, hard, + painted, and concrete. +

+

+ Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and stumbled + awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive movements, + toward the other bank of the stream. +

+

+ Maskull’s apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and + thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through + Digrung’s eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately + ahead. The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down with his + will, and nothing happened. +

+

+ The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed + considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and + higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was deeper—it + was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric sensations caused + by its water became more pronounced, almost disagreeably so; but there was + nowhere else to walk. With its deafening confusion of sounds from the + multitude of living creatures, the little valley resembled a vast + conversation hall of Nature. The life was still more prolific than before; + every square foot of space was a tangle of struggling wills, both animal + and vegetable. For a naturalist it would have been paradise, for no two + shapes were alike, and all were fantastic, with individual character. +

+

+ It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that there + was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on Earth, where + a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be sown. Here the + young forms seemed to survive, while, to find accommodation for them, the + old ones perished; everywhere he looked they were withering and dying, + without any ostensible cause—they were simply being killed by new + life. +

+

+ Other creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that they + became of different “kingdoms” altogether. For example, a + fruit was lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with + a tougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; but + inside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of bursting its + shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back toward him; by the + time he was even with it, its downward motion had stopped and it was + swimming against the current. He fished it out and discovered that it had + sprouted six rudimentary legs. +

+

+ Maskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously overcrowded + valley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and depressed. He thought + that the unseen power—whether it was called Nature, Life, Will, or + God—that was so frantic to rush forward and occupy this small, + vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was not + worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical + existence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important + business was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he longed + for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the ravine, he + began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up from tree to + tree. +

+

+ When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such brutal, + white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He looked + around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He had + travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare, + undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in + the distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone’s + Island. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he + could see. Over the crest—that is to say, some miles away—a + line of black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed + themselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against the sky, + perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of Lichstorm, + most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the sunlight. +

+

+ They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were + conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced + themselves at what looked like impossible angles—overhanging without + apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought: + extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there, + and to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get + there before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted + him than the country which lay beyond—the prospect of setting eyes + on the blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance. +

+

+ The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question, + because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed, however, + that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and decided to keep + to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared it. Into the + hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself. +

+

+ Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for several + miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly difficult. + The cliffs closed in on either side until they were less than a hundred + yards apart, while the bed of the ravine was blocked by boulders, great + and small, so that the little stream, which was now diminished to the + proportions of a brook, had to come down where and how it could. The forms + of life grew stranger. Pure plants and pure animals disappeared by + degrees, and their place was filled by singular creatures that seemed to + partake of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will, and intelligence, + but they remained for the greater part of their time rooted in the ground + by preference, and they fed only on soil and air. Maskull saw no sexual + organs and failed to understand how the young came into existence. +

+

+ Then he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed + plant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. He + could not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long time in + amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before him, as thought + it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull resumed his + striding from rock to rock up the gorge, and then, quietly and without + warning, the same phenomenon occurred again. No longer could he doubt that + he was seeing miracles—that Nature was precipitating its shapes into + the world without making use of the medium of parentage.... No solution of + the problem presented itself. +

+

+ The brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up from + its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the air. He had + not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its quality. He + felt new life entering his body, from his feet upward; it resembled a + slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. The sensation was quite new + in his experience, yet he knew by instinct what it was. The energy emitted + by the brook was ascending his body neither as friend nor foe but simply + because it happened to be the direct road to its objective elsewhere. But, + although it had no hostile intentions, it was likely to prove a rough + traveller—he was clearly conscious that its passage through his body + threatened to bring about some physical transformation, unless he could do + something to prevent it. Leaping quickly out of the water, he leaned + against a rock, tightened his muscles, and braced himself against the + impending change. At that very moment the blurring again attacked his + sight, and, while he was guarding against that, his forehead sprouted out + into a galaxy of new eyes. He put his hand up and counted six, in addition + to his old ones. +

+

+ The danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on having + got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were for—whether + they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a dozen steps up the + ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the act of jumping down from + the top of a boulder, his vision altered and he came to an automatic + standstill. He was perceiving two worlds simultaneously. With his own eyes + he saw the gorge as before, with its rocks, brook, plant-animals, + sunshine, and shadows. But with his acquired eyes he saw differently. All + the details of the valley were visible, but the light seemed turned down, + and everything appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured. The sun was obscured + by masses of cloud which filled the whole sky. This vapour was in violent + and almost living motion. It was thick in extension, but thin in texture; + some parts, however, were far denser than others, as the particles were + crushed together or swept apart by the motion. The green sparks from the + brook, when closely watched, could be distinguished individually, each one + wavering up toward the clouds, but the moment they got within them a + fearful struggle seemed to begin. The spark endeavoured to escape through + to the upper air, while the clouds concentrated around it whichever way it + darted, trying to create so dense a prison that further movement would be + impossible. As far as Maskull could detect, most of the sparks succeeded + eventually in finding their way out after frantic efforts; but one that he + was looking at was caught, and what happened was this. A complete ring of + cloud surrounded it, and, in spite of its furious leaps and flashes in all + directions—as if it were a live, savage creature caught in a net—nowhere + could it find an opening, but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with + it, wherever it went. The vapours continued to thicken around it, until + they resembled the black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a bad + thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the + interior, ceased its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent. The + cloud shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly spherical; as + it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend toward the + valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its lower end + only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether and there + was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like a stab of + forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became small, indented, + and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on legs and + rooting up the ground in search of food. The concluding stage of the + phenomenon he witnessed with his normal eyesight. It showed him the + creature’s appearing miraculously out of nowhere. +

+

+ Maskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to + curiosity and awe. “That was exactly like the birth of a thought,” + he said to himself, “but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind + is at work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are + different, and he has character, for all belong to the same general + type.... If I’m not wrong, and if it’s the force called + Shaping or Crystalman, I’ve seen enough to make me want to find out + something more about him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other + riddles before I have solved these.” +

+

+ A voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a human + figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. It looked + more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but nimble, and was + clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached from the neck to below + the knees. Around his head was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for him, + and when he was nearer went a little way to meet him. +

+

+ Then he experienced another surprise, for this person, although clearly a + human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything between the two, but + was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which was remarkable to behold + and difficult to understand. In order to translate into words the sexual + impression produced in Maskull’s mind by the stranger’s + physical aspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in + earthly use would be applicable. Instead of “he,” “she,” + or “it,” therefore “ae” will be used. +

+

+ He found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily + peculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, and + not from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. Body, + face, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but something + quite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a woman at the + first glance by some indefinable difference of expression and atmospheres + altogether apart from the contour of the figure, so the stranger was + separated in appearance from both. As with men and women, the whole person + expressed a latent sensuality, which gave body and face alike their + peculiar character.... Maskull decided that it was love—but + what love—love for whom? It was neither the shame-carrying passion + of a male, nor the deep-rooted instinct of a female to obey her destiny. + It was as real and irresistible as these, but quite different. +

+

+ As he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an + intuitive feeling that aer lover was no other than Shaping himself. It + came to him that the design of this love was not the continuance of the + race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No children were + produced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal child. Further, ae + sought like a man, but received like a woman. All these things were dimly + and confusedly expressed by this extraordinary being, who seemed to have + dropped out of another age, when creation was different. +

+

+ Of all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, this + one struck him as infinitely the most foreign—that is, the + farthest removed from him in spiritual structure. If they were to live + together for a hundred years, they could never be companions. +

+

+ Maskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing the + newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to account for + the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae possessed broad + shoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so far ae + resembled a man. But the bones were so flat and angular that aer flesh + presented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces + in place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down by + the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung together + in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea. The + face too was broken and irregular. With his racial prejudices, Maskull + found little beauty in it, yet beauty there was, though neither of a + masculine nor of a feminine type, for it had the three essentials of + beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper-coloured + and strangely luminous, as if lighted from within. The face was beardless, + but the hair of the head was as long as a woman’s, and, dressed in a + single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae possessed only two + eyes. That part of the turban which went across the forehead protruded so + far in front that it evidently concealed some organ. +

+

+ Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared active, + vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes were + powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless, + the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable + ancientness came upon him—aer real youth seemed as far away as the + view observed through a reversed telescope. +

+

+ At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were + conversing with a dream. “To what sex do you belong?” he + asked. +

+

+ The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was + oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance. +

+

+ “Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world + was peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only survivor of all + those beings who were then passing through Faceny’s mind.” +

+

+ “Faceny?” +

+

+ “Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names + invented by a race of superficial creatures.” +

+

+ “What’s your own name?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae.” +

+

+ “What?” +

+

+ “Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have + just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess + extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of it.” +

+

+ “Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never + mind that now. It is your sex that interests me. How do you satisfy your + desires?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on her brow. “With that I + gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay + valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been + spent trying to find Faceny himself. I’ve hunted so long that if I + were to state the number of years you would believe I lied.” +

+

+ Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else + from Matterplay—a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.” +

+

+ “You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.” +

+

+ “It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. “In Matterplay he will + stir inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I + knew him.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may + happen. Keep out of the water.” +

+

+ “This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.” +

+

+ “Don’t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by + right to the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work + to remove them.” +

+

+ Maskull continued thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have + to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?” +

+

+ “Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to + serve me. Together we will search for Threal.” +

+

+ “Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?” +

+

+ “I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.” +

+

+ “You said Faceny, Leehallfae.” +

+

+ The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. “This + stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its + source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is in + Threal that we must look for Faceny.” +

+

+ “But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s + a well-known country?” +

+

+ “It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are + few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have + scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of + Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants + beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, + dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.” +

+

+ “Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have + found Faceny, what do you gain?” +

+

+ Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and + its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that + Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief + and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the scents + and traces of whose person were always present. This passion stamped aer + features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual beauty, far + transcending any beauty of woman or man. +

+

+ But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast showed + Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but vulgar—it + was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims with + untiring persistence. +

+

+ He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. + “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any case I + shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as + yourself.” +

+

+ “But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different + creations. A phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s + body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman. + Faceny may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not + feel this?” +

+

+ “I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions + I can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the + phaen’s thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he + proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not + forgetting your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as + Maskull and finish it as Digrung.” +

+

+ The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road + was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it + warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they + could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a long + time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel + to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. + The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, + where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears + vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream. +

+

+ Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying + to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, + Maskull, or what is the matter?” +

+

+ “Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, + if anyone does. What is Muspel?” +

+

+ The phaen’s face was blank. “I don’t know the name.” +

+

+ “It is another world of some sort.” +

+

+ “That cannot be. There is only this one world—Faceny’s.” +

+

+ Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. “I’m + glad I fell in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything + connected with it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot + there are hardly any organic forms left—why have they all + disappeared? You call this brook a ‘life stream,’ yet the + nearer its source we get, the less life it produces. A mile or two lower + down we had those spontaneous plant-animals appearing out of nowhere, + while right down by the sea, plants and animals were tumbling over one + another. Now, if all this is connected in some mysterious way or other + with your Faceny, it seems to me he must have a most paradoxical nature. + His essence doesn’t start creating shapes until it has become + thoroughly weakened and watered.... But perhaps both of us are talking + nonsense.” +

+

+ Leehallfae shook aer head. “Everything hangs together. The stream is + life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these + sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes. The + nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous is its + life. You’ll see for yourself when we reach the head of the valley + that there are no living shapes there at all. That means that there is no + kind of matter tough enough to capture and hold the terrible sparks that + are to be found there. Lower down the stream, most of the sparks are + vigorous enough to escape to the upper air, but some are held when they + are a little way up, and these burst suddenly into shapes. I myself am of + this nature. Lower down still, toward the sea, the stream has lost a great + part of its vital power and the sparks are lazy and sluggish. They spread + out, rather than rise into the air. There is hardly any kind of matter, + however delicate, that is incapable of capturing these feeble sparks, and + they are captured in multitudes—that accounts for the innumerable + living shapes you see there. But not only that—the sparks are passed + from one body to another by way of generation, and can never hope to cease + being so until they are worn out by decay. Lowest of all, you have the + Sinking Sea itself. There the degenerate and enfeebled life of the + Matterplay streams has for its body the whole sea. So weak is it’s + power that it can’t succeed in creating any shapes at all but you + can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to do so, in those spouts.” +

+

+ “So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness + of the life germ in their case?” +

+

+ “Exactly. It can’t attain all its desires at once. And now you + can see how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously + from the more electric and vigorous sparks.” +

+

+ “But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?” +

+

+ “When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its + place is constantly taken by new matter.” +

+

+ “But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?” +

+

+ “Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left + his brain they are nothing—mere dying embers.” +

+

+ “This is a cheerless philosophy,” said Maskull. “But who + is Faceny himself, then, and why does he think at all?” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. “That I’ll explain + too. Faceny is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He + has no back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It + must necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and + Nothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally contemplates + Nothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could he + feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in empty + places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.” +

+

+ “That rings true,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny’s face backward. Since + his face is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught + of thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of + Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the + world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not + outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like a + gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never see.” +

+

+ Maskull pondered deeply for a while. +

+

+ “Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, + since you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought.” +

+

+ “Have you never loved a woman?” asked the phaen, regarding him + fixedly. +

+

+ “Perhaps I have.” +

+

+ “When you loved, did you have no high moments?” +

+

+ “That’s asking the same question in other words.” +

+

+ “In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have + drawn nearer still, would you not have done so?” +

+

+ “I would, regardless of the consequences.” +

+

+ “Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?” +

+

+ “But I would have that to hope for.” +

+

+ Leehallfae walked on in silence. +

+

+ “A man is the half of Life,” ae broke out suddenly. “A + woman is the other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. + Moreover, when life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped + out of it—something that belongs only to the whole. Between your + love and mine there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn + to Faceny, without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you + suppose it is with me?” +

+

+ “I don’t question the genuineness of your passion,” + replied Maskull, “but it’s a pity you can’t see your way + to carry it forward into the next world.” +

+

+ Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion. + “Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see + the world only as it really is.” +

+

+ That ended the conversation. +

+

+ The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the head + of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except at those + moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode along all + the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot and relaxing. + All life had ceased. A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was presented by the + cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that choked the entire + width of the gorge. They were of a snow-white crystalline limestone, + heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue. The rivulet was no + longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal. Its noise was musical, and + altogether it looked most romantic and charming, but Leehallfae seemed to + find something else in it—aer features grew more and more set and + tortured. +

+

+ About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another + plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes. It was + as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous appearance, + as befitted a creature just out of Nature’s mint. It started to walk + about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder. Nothing + remained of it—the whole body disappeared instantaneously into the + same invisible mist from which it had sprung. +

+

+ “That bears out what you said,” commented Maskull, turning + rather pale. +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the + region of terrible life.” +

+

+ “Then, since you’re right in this, I must believe all that you’ve + been telling me.” +

+

+ As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine. + There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three + hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the head + of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed. +

+

+ “In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now + lend me your luck.” +

+

+ They walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it + reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be + difficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a few + feet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be heard. The + floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up the precipice the + sun was shining. +

+

+ “What do you want me to do?” demanded Maskull. “Everything + is now in your hands, and I have no suggestions to make. Now it’s + your luck that must help us.” +

+

+ Maskull continued gazing up a little while longer. “We had better + wait till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I’ll probably have to climb to + the top, but it’s too hot at present—and besides, I’m + tired. I’ll snatch a few hours’ sleep. After that, we’ll + see.” +

+

+ Leehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 17. CORPANG +

+

+ Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was standing + by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae had slept at + all. +

+

+ “What time is it?” Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting + up. +

+

+ “The day is passing,” was the vague reply. +

+

+ Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. “Now I’m + going to climb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so + you wait here, and if I find anything on top I’ll call you.” +

+

+ A phaen glanced at him strangely. “There’s nothing up there + except a bare hillside. I’ve been there often. Have you anything + special in mind?” +

+

+ “Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait.” +

+

+ Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the + cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it grew + precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and + intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect before + every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no novice at + the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it half blinded + him with its glittering whiteness. +

+

+ After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating + copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two + projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling upward, + his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the larger of + the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a huge, dark + shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to the foot of + the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones. Maskull + steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments before he + dared to look down behind him. +

+

+ At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight of legs + and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He perceived + that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising something, + and waited for aer to reappear. +

+

+ Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice, + “The entrance is here!” +

+

+ “I’m coming down!” roared Maskull. “Wait for me!” +

+

+ He descended swiftly—without taking too much care, for he thought he + recognised his “luck” in this discovery—and within + twenty minutes was standing beside the phaen. +

+

+ “What happened?” +

+

+ “The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the + spring. It tore it out of its bed. See—now there’s room for us + to get in!” +

+

+ “Don’t get excited!” said Maskull. “It’s a + remarkable accident, but we have plenty of time. Let me look.” +

+

+ He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man without + stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet a peculiar + glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock tunnel went + straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight. The valley + brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had expected, but + came up as a spring just inside the entrance. +

+

+ “Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe + that your stream parts company with us here.” +

+

+ As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was + trembling from head to foot. +

+

+ “Why, what’s the matter?” +

+

+ Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. “The stream leaves us, but + what makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there.” +

+

+ “But surely you don’t expect to see him in person? Why are you + shaking?” +

+

+ “Perhaps it will be too much for me after all.” +

+

+ “Why? How is it affecting you?” +

+

+ The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm’s length, + endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. “Faceny’s + thoughts are obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he + grants to you what he denies to me.” +

+

+ “What does he grant to me?” +

+

+ “To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it’s + immaterial. Tomorrow both of us will be dead.” +

+

+ Maskull impatiently shook himself free. “Your sensations may be + reliable in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?” +

+

+ “Life is flaming up inside you,” replied Leehallfae, shaking + aer head. “But after it has reached its climax—perhaps tonight—it + will sink rapidly and you’ll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter + Threal I shan’t come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to + me out of this hole.” +

+

+ “You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing.” +

+

+ “I am not frightened,” said Leehallfae quietly—ae had + been gradually recovering aer tranquillity—“but when one has + lived as long as I have, it is a serious matter to die. Every year one + puts out new roots.” +

+

+ “Decide what you’re going to do,” said Maskull with a + touch of contempt, “for I’m going in at once.” +

+

+ The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that + walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his head, + followed close at aer heels. +

+

+ The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere + altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear and + refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts. The daylight + disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that, Maskull could not + say where the light came from. The air itself must have been luminous, for + though it was as light as full moon on Earth, neither he nor Leehallfae + cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the light was that both the walls of + the tunnel and their own bodies appeared colourless. Everything was black + and white, like a lunar landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal + feelings created by the atmosphere. +

+

+ After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to widen + out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could have walked + side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged aerself along + slowly and painfully, with sunken head. +

+

+ Maskull caught hold of aer. “You can’t go on like that. Better + let me take you back.” +

+

+ The phaen smiled, and staggered. “I’m dying.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. It’s only a passing + indisposition. Let me take you back to the daylight.” +

+

+ “No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny.” +

+

+ “The sick must have their way,” said Maskull. Lifting aer + bodily in his arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or + so. They then emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of + which he had never set eyes upon before. +

+

+ “Set me down!” directed Leehallfae feebly. “Here I’ll + die.” +

+

+ Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground. The + phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with + fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape. +

+

+ Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain, lighted + as if by the moon—but there was of course no moon, and there were no + shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside them were + trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but the branches + also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other plants could be + seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice. Beyond a mile or + two in any direction the light merged into obscurity. At their back a + great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not square like a + wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented line of sea + cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight. Here and there + a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered, towered aloft into + the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof. There were no colours—every + detail of the landscape was black, white, or grey. The scene appeared so + still, so solemn and religious, that all his feelings quieted down to + absolute tranquillity. +

+

+ Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and + helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a + candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of + Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen’s dead features. +

+

+ While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone standing + beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at once rise. +

+

+ “Another phaen dead,” said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, + and intellectual voice. +

+

+ Maskull got up. +

+

+ The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not + disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were energetic + and rather coarse—yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure, hard + life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine eyes carried a + twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was apparently in the + forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the hair of his head was + short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed in a black, sleeveless + robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There was an air of cleanness and + austerity about the whole man that was attractive. +

+

+ He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so, kept + passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. “They all + find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live to + an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because of their + spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured children of + Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at once.” +

+

+ “I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?” +

+

+ “I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you + doing here?” +

+

+ “My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. + As for what I am doing here—I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, + from Matterplay.” +

+

+ “But a man doesn’t accompany a phaen out of friendship. What + do you want in Threal?” +

+

+ “Then this is Threal?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ Maskull remained silent. +

+

+ Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. “Are you + ignorant, or merely reticent, Maskull?” +

+

+ “I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them.” +

+

+ The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred, + and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as + though they were in a cathedral. +

+

+ “Then do you want my society, or not?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is—not to talk + about myself.” +

+

+ “But you must at least tell me where you want to go to.” +

+

+ “I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “I can guide you through, if that’s all you want. Come, let us + start.” +

+

+ “First let’s do our duty and bury the dead, if possible.” +

+

+ “Turn around,” directed Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae’s body had disappeared. +

+

+ “What does this mean—what has happened?” +

+

+ “The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for + it to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required.” +

+

+ “Was the phaen an illusion, then?” +

+

+ “In no sense.” +

+

+ “Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be + going mad.” +

+

+ “There’s nothing unintelligible in it, if you’ll only + listen calmly. The phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible + world—to Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny’s world, but + Thire’s, and Faceny’s creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. + As this applies not only to whole bodies, but even to the last particles + of bodies, the phaen has dissolved into Nothingness.” +

+

+ “But don’t you and I belong to the outside world too?” +

+

+ “We belong to all three worlds.” +

+

+ “What three worlds—what do you mean?” +

+

+ “There are three worlds,” said Corpang composedly. “The + first is Faceny’s, the second is Amfuse’s, the third is Thire’s. + From him Threal gets its name.” +

+

+ “But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three + worlds?” +

+

+ Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. “All this we can discuss + as we go along. It’s a torment to me to be standing still.” +

+

+ Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae’s body had lain, + quite bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely + tear himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang + called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him. +

+

+ They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, + directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the + absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the + jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly + silence, the knowledge that he was underground—the combination of + all these things predisposed Maskull’s mind to mysticism, and he + prepared himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang’s explanation of + the land and its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of + the outside world and the reality of this world were two quite different + things. +

+

+ “In what sense are there three worlds?” he demanded, repeating + his former question. +

+

+ Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. “First of all, + Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it’s mere intellectual + curiosity, tell me, for we mustn’t play with awful matters.” +

+

+ “No, it isn’t that,” said Maskull slowly. “I’m + not a student. My journey is no holiday tour.” +

+

+ “Isn’t there blood on your soul?” asked Corpang, eying + him intently. +

+

+ The blood rose steadily to Maskull’s face, but in that light it + caused it to appear black. +

+

+ “Unfortunately there is, and not a little.” +

+

+ The other’s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment. +

+

+ “And so you see,” went on Maskull, with a short laugh, “I’m + in the very best condition for receiving your instruction.” +

+

+ Corpang still paused. “Underneath your crimes I see a man,” he + said, after a few minutes. “On that account, and because we are + commanded to help one another, I won’t leave you at present, though + I little thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your + question.... Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three + ways—length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is + relation, depth is feeling.” +

+

+ “Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who + came from Threal.” +

+

+ “I don’t know him. What else did he tell you?” +

+

+ “He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the + interruption.” +

+

+ “These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is + Faceny’s world, relation is Amfuse’s world, feeling is Thire’s + world.” +

+

+ “Can’t we come down to hard facts?” said Maskull, + frowning. “I understand no more than I did before what you mean by + three worlds.” +

+

+ “There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first + world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of + nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.” +

+

+ “That I understand.” +

+

+ “The second world is Love—by which I don’t mean lust. + Without love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable + deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy—not + even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect + and distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny’s world of + Nature, therefore, we have Amfuse’s world of Love, or Relation.” +

+

+ “What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world + is not contained in the first?” +

+

+ “They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover + lives for others.” +

+

+ “It may be so. It’s rather mystical. But go on—who is + Thire?” +

+

+ “Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and + love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the + need of men to stretch out toward their creator.” +

+

+ “You mean prayer and worship?” +

+

+ “I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in + either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as + depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between + Thire and man.” +

+

+ “But what is Thire himself?” +

+

+ “Thire is the afterworld.” +

+

+ “I still don’t understand,” said Maskull. “Do you + believe in three separate gods, or are these merely three ways of + regarding one God?” +

+

+ “There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they + are somehow united.” +

+

+ Maskull reflected a while. “How have you arrived at these + conclusions?” +

+

+ “None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Why in Threal—what is there peculiar here?” +

+

+ “I will show you presently.” +

+

+ They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what + had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the + banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,” + he remarked. +

+

+ Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and + uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance. +

+

+ “How has this come about—and how did you know it?” +

+

+ “They were Faceny’s organs. They have vanished, just as the + phaen’s body vanished.” +

+

+ Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. “I feel more human without them. + But why isn’t the rest of my body affected?” +

+

+ “Because its living will contains the element of Thire.” +

+

+ “Why are we stopping here?” +

+

+ Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and + proffered it to him. “Eat this, Maskull.” +

+

+ “For food, or something else?” +

+

+ “Food for body and soul.” +

+

+ Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was + bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change of + perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline, became + several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang he was + impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed expression + was still in his eyes. +

+

+ “Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Occasionally I go above, but not often.” +

+

+ “What fastens you to this gloomy world?” +

+

+ “The search for Thire.” +

+

+ “Then it’s still a search?” +

+

+ “Let us walk on.” +

+

+ As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, the + conversation became even more earnest in character than before. “Although + I was not born here,” proceeded Corpang, “I’ve lived + here for twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing + nearer to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it—the + first stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. + The longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the + beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a + voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and + harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles + off.” +

+

+ “How do you explain that?” +

+

+ “When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull.” +

+

+ “But this is troubling you?” +

+

+ “My days are spent in torture.” +

+

+ “You still persist, though? This day darkness can’t be the + ultimate state?” +

+

+ “My questions will be answered.” +

+

+ A silence ensued. +

+

+ “What do you propose to show me?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three + Figures, which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, + we will pray.” +

+

+ “And what then?” +

+

+ “If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily + forget.” +

+

+ They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two + parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills + on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as it + curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view. They came + to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed a trickling + brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was flowing up + the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by other + miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized stream. + Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead. +

+

+ “Nature has other laws here, it seems?” +

+

+ “Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds.” +

+

+ “Yet the water is flowing somewhere.” +

+

+ “I can’t explain it, but there are three wills in it.” +

+

+ “Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?” +

+

+ “Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without + Faceny.” +

+

+ Maskull thought this over for some minutes. “That must be so,” + he said at last. “Without life there can be no love, and without + love there can be no religious feeling.” +

+

+ In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the valley + presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The sides + were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower at every + step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and sepulchral. +

+

+ Maskull said, “I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another + world.” +

+

+ “I still do not know what you are doing here,” answered + Corpang. +

+

+ “Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur.” +

+

+ “That name I’ve heard—but under what circumstances?” +

+

+ “You forget?” +

+

+ Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled. + “Who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull shook his head, and said nothing. +

+

+ The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching + fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock + walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but just + when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by cliffs on + all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly into the + open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of precipices. +

+

+ A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the + way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred + yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with + perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet, but + its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one + another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too + proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged + onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher than + that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double line of + lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible. +

+

+ The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight + forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a waterfall, + it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then disappeared + through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side. +

+

+ To Maskull’s mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural + phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here than + on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms. +

+

+ Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When they + had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet. Three large + rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three upright + giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of the chasm. + Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that they were + statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship was of the + rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and trunks had been + barely chipped into shape—the faces alone had had care bestowed on + them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was obviously the + work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with knees closed and + arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were exactly alike. +

+

+ As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted. +

+

+ “Is this a representation of your three Beings?” asked + Maskull, awed by the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity. +

+

+ “Ask no questions, but kneel,” replied Corpang. He dropped + onto his own knees, but Maskull remained standing. +

+

+ Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a few + minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he + continued looking. +

+

+ It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight + and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit. +

+

+ Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had + ceased to be a statue—it was a living person. Out of the blackness + of space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy + glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew + stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow came + from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist. +

+

+ Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that of + a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl and + the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull felt + the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one who awakes + from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark, delicate + colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and looked beyond + him. He began to shudder, with delight—and many emotions. As he + gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and indefinable + character that he could endure it no more; he burst into tears. +

+

+ When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few + moments more he was plunged back into total darkness. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured into + a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its face and + body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from them. This + light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden fire. It + illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges, the cliffs, + himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted statues—all + appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and strongly + defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat. Maskull was + unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart melting to + womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded imperceptibly + away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left behind was not + freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate and nearly savage + mental state of pity and distress. He felt a tormenting desire to serve. + All this came from the heat of the statue, and was without an object. He + glanced anxiously around him, and fastened his eyes on Corpang. He put a + hand on his shoulder and aroused him from his praying. +

+

+ “You must know what I am feeling, Corpang.” +

+

+ Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing. +

+

+ “I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?” +

+

+ “So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to + the invisible worlds.” +

+

+ As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to die + away from the landscape. Maskull’s emotion slowly subsided, but it + was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became master + of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition of + enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting in + his character. He got up onto his feet. +

+

+ The very moment that he arose, a man’s voice sounded, not a yard + from his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could + distinguish that it was not Corpang’s. As he listened he was unable + to prevent himself from physically trembling. +

+

+ “Maskull, you are to die,” said the unseen speaker. +

+

+ “Who is speaking?” +

+

+ “You have only a few hours of life left. Don’t trifle the time + away.” +

+

+ Maskull could bring nothing out. +

+

+ “You have despised life,” went on the low-toned voice. “Do + you really imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is + a joke?” +

+

+ “What must I do?” +

+

+ “Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to...” +

+

+ The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again. All + remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken his + departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of + catalepsy. +

+

+ At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, + white glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining. +

+

+ In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got + up, and shook him out of his trance. +

+

+ Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. “Whose statue was + the last?” he demanded. +

+

+“Thire’s.” +

+

+ “Did you hear me speaking?” +

+

+ “I heard your voice, but no one else’s.” +

+

+ “I’ve just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long + to live. Leehallfae prophesied the same thing.” +

+

+ Corpang shook his head. “What value do you set on life?” he + asked. +

+

+ “Very little. But it’s a fearful thing all the same.” +

+

+ “Your death is?” +

+

+ “No, but this warning.” +

+

+ They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men + seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard + the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way + off and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked. It + appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where they + were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull’s heart beat + quickly. +

+

+ “What can that sound be?” asked Corpang, peering into the + obscurity. +

+

+ “It is Surtur.” +

+

+ “Once again, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance + was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in + intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer + seen by Their’s light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows. +

+

+ Corpang’s nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. + “What fire is that?” +

+

+ “It is Muspel-light.” +

+

+ They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange glow + they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in the + sordid and horrible Crystalman mask. +

+

+ Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. “What can this + mean?” he asked a minute later. +

+

+ “It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, + whether he is one person or three.” +

+

+ Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a shocking + sight. “Dare we believe this?” +

+

+ “You must,” replied Maskull. “You have always served the + highest, and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that + Thire is not the highest.” +

+

+ Corpang’s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. “Life + is clearly false—I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I + find—this.” +

+

+ “You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had + eternity to practice his cunning in, so it’s no wonder if a man can’t + see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?” +

+

+ “The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “But where will it take us?” +

+

+ “Perhaps out of Threal altogether.” +

+

+ “It sounds to me more real than reality,” said Corpang. + “Tell me, who is Surtur?” +

+

+ “Surtur’s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of + which this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is + other than life.” +

+

+ “How do you know this?” +

+

+ “It has sprung together somehow—from inspiration, from + experience, from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour + it grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape.” +

+

+ Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, + energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. “I believe + you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not + the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but + the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming + with you—but don’t play the traitor. These signs may be for + you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me—” +

+

+ “I make no promises. I don’t ask you to come with me. If you + prefer to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, + you had better not come.” +

+

+ “Don’t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to + me... Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound.” +

+

+ Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the + direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along the + ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually + departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical + beats continued, but a very long way ahead—neither was able to + diminish the distance. +

+

+ “What kind of man are you?” Corpang suddenly broke out. +

+

+ “In what respect?” +

+

+ “How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it + that I’ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my + never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to + me?” +

+

+ “To hear voices perhaps can’t be made a profession,” + replied Maskull. “I have a simple and unoccupied mind—that may + be why I sometimes hear things that up to the present you have not been + able to.” +

+

+ Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his + pride. +

+

+ The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on + the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the right, + and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a bridge, coming + out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of precipices + immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along the base of + these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large cave the + sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps inward. +

+

+ “This leads to the outer world,” remarked Corpang. “I’ve + occasionally been there by this passage.” +

+

+ “Then that’s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan’t + be sorry to see sunlight once more.” +

+

+ “Can you find time to think of sunlight?” asked Corpang with a + rough smile. +

+

+ “I love the sun, and perhaps I’m rather lacking in the spirit + of a zealot.” +

+

+ “Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.” +

+

+ “Don’t be bitter,” said Maskull. “I’ll tell + you another thing. Muspel can’t be willed, for the simple reason + that Muspel does not concern the will. To will is a property of this + world.” +

+

+ “Then what is your journey for?” +

+

+ “It’s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over + the walk, and quite another to run there at top speed.” +

+

+ “Perhaps I’m not so easily deceived as you think,” said + Corpang with another smile. +

+

+ The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep + ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to + climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the + confined dreams of his childhood. +

+

+ Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the last + stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all dirty + and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a hillside, bathed + in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang followed closely at his + heels. He was obliged to shield his eyes with his hands for a few minutes, + so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell’s blinding rays. +

+

+ “The drum beats have stopped!” he exclaimed suddenly. +

+

+ “You can’t expect music all the time,” answered Maskull + dryly. “We mustn’t be luxurious.” +

+

+ “But now we have no guide. We’re no better off than before.” +

+

+ “Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, + Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north.” +

+

+ “That will take us to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. “I + saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they + did then, and there’s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm + from here?” +

+

+ Corpang looked away to the distant range. “I don’t know, but + unless a miracle happens we shan’t get there tonight.” +

+

+ “I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not + only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my + life.” +

+

+ And he sat down passively to rest. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 18. HAUNTE +

+

+ While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his + arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed + impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped + short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. “What do you + intend to do?” +

+

+ Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. + “Since we can’t walk, we must wait.” +

+

+ “For what?” +

+

+ “I don’t know... How’s this, though? Those peaks have + changed colour, from red to green.” +

+

+ “Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.” +

+

+ “The lich wind?” +

+

+ “It’s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the + mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as + Threal.” +

+

+ “It’s a sort of fog, then?” +

+

+ “A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.” +

+

+ “So we are to have lovemaking,” said Maskull, laughing. +

+

+ “Perhaps you won’t find it so joyous,” replied Corpang a + little grimly. +

+

+ “But tell me—these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?” +

+

+ Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast fading + into obscurity. +

+

+ “Passion keeps them from falling.” +

+

+ Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. + “What, the love of rock for rock?” +

+

+ “It is comical, but true.” +

+

+ “We’ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the + mountains is Barey, is it not?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?” +

+

+ “That is told only to those who die beside it.” +

+

+ “Is the secret so precious, Corpang?” +

+

+ Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than two + hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. It was + a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now appeared only + as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling, and was exciting + in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional inflammation, as though a + very slight external cause would serve to overturn his self-control. + Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron. +

+

+ Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. +

+

+ “That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something + from the top.” +

+

+ Without waiting for his companion’s opinion, he began to scramble up + the tor, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined + him. +

+

+ From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the + sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. Leaving + all that, however, Maskull’s eyes immediately fastened themselves on + a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which was travelling + rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the air. +

+

+ “What do you make of that?” he asked in a tone of + astonishment. +

+

+ Corpang shook his head and said nothing. +

+

+ Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished the + distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and more, but + its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was continually + jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull now made out a + man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large dead animal lying + amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he observed a thick, blue haze + underneath it, and a similar haze behind, but the front, facing them, was + clear. +

+

+ “Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth + carries it?” +

+

+ He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had not + been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made wild + motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred yards + distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a way + that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence. +

+

+ The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a walking + man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was shaped rather + queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides tapered off from a + flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern. The flat bottom was + not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked, and carried only one + living occupant; the other object they had distinguished was really the + carcass of an animal, of about the size of a large sheep. The blue haze + trailing behind the boat appeared to emanate from the glittering point of + a short upright pole fastened in the stern. When the craft was within a + few feet of them, and they were looking down at it in wonder from above, + the man removed this pole and covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. + The forward motion then ceased altogether, and the boat began to drift + hither and thither, but still it remained suspended in the air, while the + haze underneath persisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against + the pile of rocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore + and immediately clambered up to meet them. +

+

+ Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a young + man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His limbs were + quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long, and he had the + biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in a man. His + hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding teeth, and a + spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped upward. On his + forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been mutilated—it + was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short and thin. + Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed to stand in + the same relation to jale as green to red. +

+

+ Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two + companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. + Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the + first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background. +

+

+ “What men are you?” demanded the aerial navigator at last. His + voice was extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It + sounded to Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way + through a narrow orifice. +

+

+ “I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where + I come from, don’t ask.” +

+

+ “I am Haunte, from Sarclash.” +

+

+ “Where may that be?” +

+

+ “Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got + too murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm.” +

+

+ “Are you returning there now?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “And how long will it take to get there in that boat?” +

+

+ “Two—three hours.” +

+

+ “Will it accommodate us too?” +

+

+ “What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?” +

+

+ “To see the sights,” responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. + “But first of all, to dine. I can’t remember having eaten all + day. You seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won’t lack + for food.” +

+

+ Haunte eyed him quizzically. “You certainly don’t lack + impudence. However, I’m a man of that sort myself, and it is the + sort I prefer. Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a + meal of a stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up + out of a dark hole.” +

+

+ Maskull took Corpang’s arm, and constrained him to silence. +

+

+ “Where have you been hunting, Haunte?” +

+

+ “Matterplay. I had the worst luck—I speared one wold horse, + and there it lies.” +

+

+ “What is Lichstorm like?” +

+

+ “There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no + men-women, as with you.” +

+

+ “What do you call men-women?” +

+

+ “Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are + pure.” +

+

+ “I have always regarded myself as a man.” +

+

+ “Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?” +

+

+ “Why, do you?” +

+

+ Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. “Things are different in + Lichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?” +

+

+ “I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what + you say.” +

+

+ “Then I’ll introduce you to Sullenbode.” +

+

+ He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a + great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook. +

+

+ “Let us share the joke,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “Oh, you’ll understand it later.” +

+

+ “If you play pranks with me, I won’t stand on ceremony with + you.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed again. “I won’t be the one to play pranks. + Sullenbode will be deeply obliged to me. If I don’t visit her myself + as often as she would like, I’m always glad to serve her in other + ways.... Well, you shall have your boat ride.” +

+

+ Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. “If the sexes hate one another + in your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?” +

+

+ “In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm + there is hard passion.” +

+

+ “But what do you call hard passion?” +

+

+ “Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure.” +

+

+ “I intend to understand, before I’ve finished.” +

+

+ “Yes,” answered Haunte, with a taunting look, “it would + be a pity to let the chance slip, since you’re going to Lichstorm.” +

+

+ It was now Corpang’s turn to take Maskull by the arm. “This + journey will end badly.” +

+

+ “Why so?” +

+

+ “Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women.” +

+

+ “Let me alone,” said Maskull. “Give luck a slack rein. + What brought this boat here?” +

+

+ “What is this talk about Muspel?” demanded Haunte. +

+

+ Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes. + “What do you know?” +

+

+ “Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high + time to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn’t child’s + play, let me tell you.” +

+

+ “I shall not forget,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull gazed down at the boat. “Are we to get in?” +

+

+ “Gently, my friend. It’s only canework and skin.” +

+

+ “First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived + to dispense with the laws of gravitation.” +

+

+ Haunte smiled sarcastically. “A secret in your ear, Maskull. All + laws are female. A true male is an outlaw—outside the law.” +

+

+ “I don’t understand.” +

+

+ “The great body of the earth is continually giving out female + particles, and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally + continually trying to reach them. That’s gravitation.” +

+

+ “Then how do you manage with your boat?” +

+

+ “My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat + prevents it from falling to the ground; the one in the stern shuts it off + from solid objects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any + part of the earth is the bow, for that’s the only part the light of + the male stones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels.” +

+

+ “And what are these wondrous male stones?” +

+

+ “They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they + are showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the + female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left over + to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the least + attracted in that direction.” +

+

+ Maskull ruminated for a minute. +

+

+ “With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very + handy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun’s sinking, and we’d + better start.” +

+

+ “Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then + you and your gloomy friend can sit amidships.” +

+

+ Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but + then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom, + still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear, as + though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but the + rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and he + was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty. +

+

+ After the first moment’s shock, he quietly accepted the new order of + things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight in + the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then + descended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his + settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last; + grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to erect + it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near view of + the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of Nature, acted + indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In the last ruddy + gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it looked little more + impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating blue-white jewel, + but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured mist that it threw + out for many yards around. +

+

+ The steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to the + top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment of the + male stone’s rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be shut + off at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial vessel quietly + detached itself from the rock to which it had been drawn, and passed + slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. Branchspell sank below + the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out everything outside a radius of + a few miles. The air grew cool and fresh. +

+

+ Soon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte withdrew + the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. +

+

+ “You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night,” + exclaimed Maskull. “I would have thought it impossible.” +

+

+ Haunte grunted. “You will have to take risks, and think yourself + fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. But one + thing I can tell you—if you go on disturbing me with your chitchat + we shan’t get as far as the mountains.” +

+

+ Thereafter Maskull was silent. +

+

+ The twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to look at, + but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to the + never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of + gravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing of a + small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy. Haunte, + from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with one eye. The + darkness now came on rapidly. +

+

+ About ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they arrived at + the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There was no daylight + left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides of them and in the + rear, the landscape was lighted up for a considerable distance by the now + vivid blue rays of the twin male stones. Ahead, where these rays did not + shine, Haunte was guided by the self-luminous nature of the rocks, grass, + and trees. These were faintly phosphorescent; the vegetation shone out + more strongly than the soil. +

+

+ The moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore + inferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or twice, + from his sensations of choking, he thought that they were entering a + fogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the effect of + doubling the intensity of every light in front of them. Whenever this + happened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he experienced transitory, + unreasoning fright and horror. +

+

+ Now they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills from + the mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many thousands of + feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to manoeuvre carefully with + the rear light in order to keep clear of them. Maskull watched the + delicacy of his movements, not without admiration. A long time went by. It + grew much colder; the air was damp and drafty. The fog began to deposit + something like snow on their persons. Maskull kept sweating with terror, + not because of the danger they were in, but because of the cloud banks + that continued to envelop them. +

+

+ They cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this time + with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by the + male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out of + sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke + through. In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling + hither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through + one of which Teargeld was shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic + peak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and was + then swallowed up again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the mist. + The moon went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him long for + the aerial voyage to end. +

+

+ The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new + cliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, downward, and on + both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. After coasting it a + little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out. It was square, + measuring about a dozen feet each way. Green snow covered it to a depth of + some inches. Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which + promised to be the mouth of a cave. +

+

+ Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he raised + the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then removed both + male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. His face was thrown + into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white rays. It looked + rather surly. +

+

+ “Do we get out?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes. I live here.” +

+

+ “Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.” +

+

+ “Yes, it has been touch-and-go.” +

+

+ Corpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. “There + has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a + ferryman, Haunte.” +

+

+ “Is that so?” returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. + “I thought I was carrying men, not gods.” +

+

+ “Where are we?” asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but + Haunte remained standing a minute in the boat. +

+

+ “This is Sarclash—the second highest mountain in the land.” +

+

+ “Which is the highest, then?” +

+

+ “Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—very + difficult in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, + lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you + know the lay of the land.” +

+

+ “Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?” +

+

+ “Near enough.” Haunte grinned. +

+

+ He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, + walked straight into the cave. +

+

+ Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to a + doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed his + way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made no + comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its + fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard + at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. +

+

+ The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with + walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways: that + by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly opposite. + The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from door to door. + Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground. A number of lumps + of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the wall, and a few + bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were tusks, horns, and + bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two short hunting spears, + having beautiful crystal heads. +

+

+ Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther door; + thire light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the meat + and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. +

+

+ “Are we invited to the feast?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not + pause in his chewing. +

+

+ “Where’s a cup?” inquired Maskull, lifting one of the + skins. +

+

+ Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up, + undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the cup. + Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed off the + draught, and then felt much better. +

+

+ The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, + swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to + drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, + and began to throw off care. +

+

+ Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat down + on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and coarse, but + he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not understand the flavour, + which was not surprising in a world of strange animals. The meal proceeded + in silence. Corpang ate sparingly, standing up, and afterward lay down on + a bundle of furs. His bold eyes watched all the movements of the other + two. Haunte had not drunk as yet. +

+

+ At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed + pleasantly, and prepared to talk. +

+

+ “Now explain further about your women, Haunte.” +

+

+ Haunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off the + string with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in quick + succession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to Maskull. +

+

+ “Well?” +

+

+ “So they are objectionable?” +

+

+ “They are deadly.” +

+

+ “Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?” +

+

+ “You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had + some bad feelings, eh?” +

+

+ “I don’t conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were + struggling with a nightmare. What caused it?” +

+

+ “The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion.” +

+

+ “I had no passion.” +

+

+ “That was passion—the first stage. Nature tickles your + people into marriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You’ll + have a return of those sensations—only ten times worse. The drink + you’ve had will see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?” +

+

+ “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you questions.” +

+

+ Haunte laughed loudly. “Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?” +

+

+ “But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, + fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?” +

+

+ Maskull coolly drank another cup. “And why should she give all that + to a passerby?” +

+

+ “Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn’t it to give. No, what + she will give you, and what you’ll accept from her, because you can’t + help it, is—anguish, insanity, possibly death.” +

+

+ “You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why + should I accept insanity and death?” +

+

+ “Because your passion will force you to.” +

+

+ “What about yourself?” Maskull asked, biting his nails. +

+

+ “Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune.” +

+

+ “Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?” +

+

+ “Yes, but don’t attempt any tricks, Maskull.” +

+

+ Maskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. “So + men and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?” + he proceeded at last. +

+

+ “That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love + between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is + Maskull’s female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land + the men are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the female side.” +

+

+ “Where do the male stones come from?” +

+

+ “Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff + somewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure female + world. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual + shapes.” +

+

+ “Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?” +

+

+ “The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is + dangerous to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?” +

+

+ Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. “I remind you of + your promise to tell about Muspel.” +

+

+ Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. “Ha! The underground + man has come to life.” +

+

+ “Yes, tell us,” put in Maskull carelessly. +

+

+ Haunte drank, and laughed a little. “Well, the tale’s short, + and hardly worth telling, but since you’re interested.... A stranger + came here five years ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was Lodd. + He came from the east. He came up to me one bright morning in summer, + outside this very cave. If you ask me to describe him—I can’t + imagine a second man like him. He looked so proud, noble, superior, that I + felt my own blood to be dirty by comparison. You can guess I don’t + have this feeling for everyone. Now that I am recalling him, he was not so + much superior as different. I was so impressed that I rose and talked to + him standing. He inquired the direction of the mountain Adage. He went on + to say, ‘They say Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you + know of such a thing?’ I told him the truth—that I knew + nothing about it, and then he went on, ‘Well, I am going to Adage. + And tell those who come after me on the same errand that they had better + do the same thing.’ That was the whole conversation. He started on + his way, and I’ve never seen him or heard of him since.” +

+

+ “So you didn’t have the curiosity to follow him?” +

+

+ “No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in + the man somehow seemed to vanish.” +

+

+ “Probably because he was useless to you.” +

+

+ Corpang glanced at Maskull. “Our road is marked out for us.” +

+

+ “So it would appear,” said Maskull indifferently. +

+

+ The talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, and grew + restless. +

+

+ “What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in + daylight? It struck me as strange.” +

+

+ “Dolm,” said Haunte. +

+

+ “A compound of ulfire and blue,” explained Corpang. +

+

+ “Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger.” +

+

+ “What colours have you in your world?” asked Corpang. +

+

+ “Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how + it comes about I can’t imagine.” +

+

+ “There are two sets of three primary colours here,” said + Corpang, “but as one of the colours—blue—is identical in + both sets, altogether there are five primary colours.” +

+

+ “Why two sets?” +

+

+ “Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and + red; Alppain, ulfire, blue, and jale.” +

+

+ “It’s remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me + before.” +

+

+ “So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity of + nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a + contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In yellow + light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red is feeling. + When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal feelings.... As + regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle and is therefore + not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it must be a + different sort of existence.” +

+

+ Haunte yawned. “There are marvellous philosophers in your + underground hole.” +

+

+ Maskull got up and looked about him. +

+

+ “Where does that other door lead to?” +

+

+ “Better explore,” said Haunte. +

+

+ Maskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging the + curtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose abruptly and + hurried after him. +

+

+ Corpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit skins, + untied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to the floor. + Next he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the points between his + hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, Haunte and Maskull + reappeared. The host’s quick, shifty eyes at once took in what had + happened. He smiled, and turned pale. +

+

+ “You haven’t been idle, friend.” +

+

+ Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. “I thought it well + to draw your teeth.” +

+

+ Maskull burst out laughing. “The toad’s come into the light to + some purpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?” +

+

+ Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly + uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him. + The two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They were as often on the + floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the + better of it. He made no attempt to separate them. A thought came into his + head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, laughing, + through the upper doorway, into the open night air. +

+

+ The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A narrow + ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it + was the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the + chasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers + than stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind. While Maskull was + still watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern, + followed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull’s arm excitedly. +

+

+ “What in Krag’s name have you done?” +

+

+ “Overboard they have gone,” replied Maskull, renewing his + laughter. +

+

+ “You accursed madman!” +

+

+ Haunte’s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal + light were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion of + his will. +

+

+ “You know this kills me?” +

+

+ “Haven’t you been doing your best this last hour to make me + ripe for Sullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!” +

+

+ “You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.” +

+

+ Haunte’s jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a + sick man—yet somehow his face had become nobler. +

+

+ “I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my + being also very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the + same errand—which doesn’t appear to have struck you yet.” +

+

+ “But why this errand at all?” asked Corpang quietly. “Can’t + you men exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?” +

+

+ Haunte fixed him with wild eyes. “No. The phantoms come trooping in + on me already.” +

+

+ He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again. +

+

+ “And I cannot wait.... the game is started.” +

+

+ Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte in + front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme caution was + demanded. The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and rocks. +

+

+ When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the + party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down. +

+

+ “The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse.” +

+

+ Haunte turned back. “Then you are a doomed man.” +

+

+ Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, imagined + that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural being, who + was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled violently, + yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in great drops. The + waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that space it kept coming + and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the point of departing; the + next it almost took shape—which he knew would be his death. Suddenly + it vanished altogether—he was free. A fresh spring breeze fanned his + face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet bird; and it seemed + to him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. Such flashing, + heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all his life! Almost + immediately that too vanished. +

+

+ Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like + one who has been visited by an angel. +

+

+ “Your colour changed to white,” said Corpang. “What + happened?” +

+

+ “I passed through torture to love,” replied Maskull simply. +

+

+ He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. “Will you not describe + that passage?” +

+

+ Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. “When I was in Matterplay, + I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living + animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to + consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy + would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is not + accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through my + brain.... You men of Lichstorm don’t go far enough. You stop at the + pangs, without realising that they are birth pangs.” +

+

+ “If this is true, you are a great pioneer,” muttered Haunte. +

+

+ “How does this sensation differ from common love?” + interrogated Corpang. +

+

+ “This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.” +

+

+ Corpang fingered his chin awhile. “The Lichstorm men, however, will + never reach this stage, for they are too masculine.” +

+

+ Haunte turned pale. “Why should we alone suffer?” +

+

+ “Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn’t act according to + justice.... Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all.” +

+

+ “I’ll see,” muttered Haunte. “Perhaps I will.” +

+

+ “Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “No, her home’s under the hanging cap of Sarclash.” +

+

+ “What is to happen tonight?” Maskull spoke to himself, but + Haunte answered him. +

+

+ “Don’t expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just + occurred. She is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will + draw her out into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were + permanent, you would have endowed her with a soul.” +

+

+ “Perhaps the change might be made permanent.” +

+

+ “To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as + well. But why should she desire you?” +

+

+ “Nothing turns out as one expects,” said Maskull, shaking his + head. “We had better get on again.” +

+

+ They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner + of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which + mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use + both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the + overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. +

+

+ The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and + bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. +

+

+ “This must be under the cap,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode.” +

+

+ When he spoke his words, Maskull’s lips surprised him by their + tender sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills + throughout his body. +

+

+ The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into + sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but no + leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful light—a + mingling of jale and white—gleamed softly through the darkness. She + sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in a singular skin + garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one shoulder, and ended as + loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her forearms were lightly + folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten fruit. +

+

+ Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he + had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting in + its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked + scarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In their + richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a background of + slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour could not be + distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked into her + garment behind, for convenience. +

+

+ Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly agitated. + Maskull’s heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte pulled + him, and said, “My head feels as if it were being torn from my + shoulders.” +

+

+ “What can that mean?” +

+

+ “Yet there’s a horrible joy in it,” added Haunte, with a + sickly smile. +

+

+ He put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced + up at them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not + imagine that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped + on his knees, and kissed her lips. +

+

+ She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull + noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged from + their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The smile + faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her feet, + and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn. Maskull + came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but nothing + indicated what she thought. +

+

+ Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She + suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, he + fell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in contact with + an electric wire. The back of his head struck the ground, and he lay there + motionless. +

+

+ Corpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had + happened, he left him where he was. +

+

+ “Maskull, come here quickly!” +

+

+ The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte’s skin, as Maskull bent + over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had been + split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with + strange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from an + axe. +

+

+ “This couldn’t be from the fall,” said Maskull. +

+

+ “No, Sullenbode did it.” +

+

+ Maskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her former + attitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had vanished from her + face, and she was again smiling. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 19. SULLENBODE +

+

+ Sullenbode’s naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the + clothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her senseless, + smiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through his body. +

+

+ Corpang spoke out of the night. “She looks like an evil spirit + filled with deadliness.” +

+

+ “It was like deliberately kissing lightning.” +

+

+ “Haunte was insane with passion.” +

+

+ “So am I,” said Maskull quietly. “My body seems full of + rocks, all grinding against one another.” +

+

+ “This is what I was afraid of.” +

+

+ “It appears I shall have to kiss her too.” +

+

+ Corpang pulled his arm. “Have you lost all manliness?” +

+

+ But Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at his + beard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After this had + gone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the woman, and + lifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright against the rugged tree + trunk, he kissed her. +

+

+ A cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it was + death, and lost consciousness. +

+

+ When his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder with + one hand at arm’s length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. At + first he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but + another. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with that + which Haunte’s action had called into existence. A great calmness + came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. +

+

+ Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her + features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power. + She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her + face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth + crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous as + before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her—she + looked the kingliest of all women. She appeared not more than + twenty-five. +

+

+ Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way + and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a + long, bowlike smile. “Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?” +

+

+ Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream. +

+

+ “My name is Maskull.” +

+

+ She motioned to him to come a step nearer. “Listen, Maskull. Man + after man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, + for I did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for + good or evil.” +

+

+ Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said + quietly, “What have you to say about him?” +

+

+ “Who was it?” +

+

+ “Haunte.” +

+

+ “So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a + famous man.” +

+

+ “It’s a horrible affair. I can’t think that you killed + him deliberately.” +

+

+ “We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only + protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.” +

+

+ “I might have died, too.” +

+

+ “You came together?” +

+

+ “There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.” +

+

+ “I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?” +

+

+ “Nothing.” +

+

+ “Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.” +

+

+ “No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.” +

+

+ “This is not that pleasure, then?” demanded the low, earnest + voice, out of the darkness. +

+

+ “No, that pleasure has not returned.” +

+

+ Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. “What pleasure are you speaking of?” +

+

+ “A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.” +

+

+ “But what do you feel now?” +

+

+ “Calm and free.” +

+

+ Sullenbode’s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling + sea of elemental passions. “I do not know how it will end, Maskull, + but we will still keep together a little. Where are you going?” +

+

+ “To Adage,” said Corpang, stepping forward. +

+

+ “But why?” +

+

+ “We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to + find Muspel-light.” +

+

+“What light is that?” +

+

+ “It’s the light of another world.” +

+

+ “The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?” +

+

+ “On one condition,” said Corpang. “They must forget + their sex. Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.” +

+

+ “I give you all other men,” said Sullenbode. “Maskull is + mine.” +

+

+ “No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of + the existence of nobler things.” +

+

+ “You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to + Adage.” +

+

+ “Are you acquainted with it?” +

+

+ Again the woman gripped Maskull’s arm. “What is love—which + Corpang despises?” +

+

+ Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, “Love is that + which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake + of the beloved.” +

+

+ Corpang wrinkled his forehead. “A magnanimous female lover is new in + my experience.” +

+

+ Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, “Are + you contemplating a sacrifice?” +

+

+ She gazed at her feet, and smiled. “What does it matter what my + thoughts are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest + first? It’s a rough road to Adage.” +

+

+ “What’s in your mind?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash + and Adage, perhaps I shall turn back.” +

+

+ “And then?” +

+

+ “Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, + but if it is dark it’s hardly likely.” +

+

+ “That’s not what I meant. What will become of you after we + have parted company?” +

+

+ “I shall return somewhere—perhaps here.” +

+

+ Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. “Shall + you sink back into—the old state?” +

+

+ “No, Maskull, thank heaven.” +

+

+ “Then how will you live?” +

+

+ Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There + was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. “And who said I would go + on living?” +

+

+ Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he + spoke again. “You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can’t + leave you like this.” +

+

+ Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed. +

+

+ “You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us + go.... Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others—who + aren’t so single-minded—can do is to help him to his + destination. We mustn’t inquire whether the destination of + single-minded men is as a rule worth arriving at.” +

+

+ “If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.” +

+

+ “Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.” +

+

+ Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have + picked up wisdom.” +

+

+ “Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.” +

+

+ As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte. +

+

+ “Can we not bury that poor fellow?” +

+

+ “By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not + include Corpang.” +

+

+ “We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I + am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.” +

+

+ “Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” + They left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three + men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the + same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, + pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies + shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but + Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. + They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and + fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an + alluring girl and a half-infatuated man. +

+

+ For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, + maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a false + step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right. After a + while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground, and they + seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The ascending slope on + the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards more. Then Sullenbode + bore sharply to the left, and they found level ground all around them. +

+

+ “We are on the ridge,” announced the woman, halting. +

+

+ The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst through + the clouds, illuminating the whole scene. +

+

+ Maskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view was + quite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, shining down + on them from behind. Straight in front, like an enormously wide, smoothly + descending road, lay the great ridge which went on to Adage, though Adage + itself was out of sight. It was never less than two hundred yards wide. It + was covered with green snow, in some places entirely, but in other places + the naked rocks showed through like black teeth. From where they stood + they were unable to see the sides of the ridge, or what lay underneath. On + the right hand, which was north, the landscape was blurred and indistinct. + There were no peaks there; it was the distant, low-lying land of Barey. + But on the left hand appeared a whole forest of mighty pinnacles, near and + far, as far as the eye could see in moonlight. All glittered green, and + all possessed the extraordinary hanging caps that characterised the + Lichstorm range. These caps were of fantastic shapes, and each one was + different. The valley directly opposite them was filled with rolling mist. +

+

+ Sarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two + ends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile or more of + empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which they stood. The + southern end was the long line of cliffs on that part of the mountain + where Haunte’s cave was situated. The connecting curve was the steep + slope they had just traversed. One peak of Sarclash was invisible. +

+

+ In the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a few + summits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared over the + south side of the horseshoe. +

+

+ Maskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw her + for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on his lips. + The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, and the face, + pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly became almost + beautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of rose-red. Her hair was + a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly disturbed; he thought that she + resembled a spirit, rather than a woman. +

+

+ “What puzzles you?” she asked, smiling. +

+

+ “Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight.” +

+

+ “Perhaps you never will.” +

+

+ “Your life must be most solitary.” +

+

+ She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. “Why + do you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means + I can’t say.” +

+

+ Sullenbode laughed outright. “It assuredly does not mean the + approach of night.” +

+

+ Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly + broke in. “The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I’ll + go on alone.” +

+

+ “No, we’ll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us.” +

+

+ “A little way,” said the woman, “but not to Adage, to + pit my strength against unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know + how to renounce love, but I will never be a traitor to it.” +

+

+ “Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang + is as ignorant as myself.” +

+

+ Corpang looked him full in the face. “Maskull, you are quite well + aware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a + beautiful woman.” +

+

+ Maskull gave an uneasy laugh. “What Corpang doesn’t tell you, + Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than he, + and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying his + prayers in Threal.” +

+

+ “Still, what he says must be true,” she replied, looking from + one to the other. +

+

+ “And so I am not to be allowed to—” +

+

+ “So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not + backward, Maskull.” +

+

+ “We need not quarrel yet,” he remarked, with a forced smile. + “No doubt things will straighten themselves out.” +

+

+ Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. “I picked up + another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.” +

+

+ “Tell it to me, then.” +

+

+ “Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their + strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but the + law-abiders live at their ease—they have conquered nothing for + themselves.” +

+

+ “It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and + perfect. You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.” +

+

+ “No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.” +

+

+ They started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three were + abreast, Sullenbode in the middle. +

+

+ The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance + comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth, for + the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm to + their naked feet. Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides. The + moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows + were sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked on + Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the + galaxy of glorious distant peaks. +

+

+ “You cannot belong to this world,” said the woman. “Men + of your stamp are not to be looked for here.” +

+

+ “No, I have come here from Earth.” +

+

+ “Is that larger than our world?” +

+

+ “Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With + all those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and + therefore the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without + encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure + among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.” +

+

+ “Do men hate women there, and women men?” +

+

+ “No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant + is the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes. + There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.” +

+

+ “That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. + But now say—why did you come here?” +

+

+ “To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer + interested me.” +

+

+ “How long have you been in this world?” +

+

+ “This is the end of my fourth day.” +

+

+ “Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. + You cannot have been inactive.” +

+

+ “Great misfortunes have happened to me.” +

+

+ He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from the + moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode listened, + with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. Only twice did + she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin’s death, she + said, speaking in a low voice—“None of us women ought by right + of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act of hers, + I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.” Again, + speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, “That grand-souled girl I admire + the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing else + besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?” +

+

+ When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, “Does it not strike + you, Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the + men?” +

+

+ “I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a + substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love the + sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally noble.” +

+

+ Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet, + that he was struck into silence. +

+

+ They tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, “Now + you understand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, scant + pity for anyone—Oh, it has been a bloody journey!” +

+

+ She laid her hand on his arm. “I, for one, would not have it less + rugged.” +

+

+ “Nothing good can be said of my crimes.” +

+

+ “To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not + what.... The grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause to + look up to women.” +

+

+ “Thanks, Sullenbode!” he responded, with a troubled smile. +

+

+ “When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of + your road. You go on, looking neither to right nor left.” +

+

+ “Take care that you are not thrown as well,” said Corpang + gravely. +

+

+ “Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for + whatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have a bag + of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have had it + described to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, selfish joy. + It is not that—it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, and + bloody.... How should you know.” +

+

+ “Selfishness has far too many disguises.” +

+

+ “If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?” +

+

+ “Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too + swift for you both.” +

+

+ Sullenbode studied him through her lashes. “Do you mean death—his + death as well as mine?” +

+

+ “You go too far, Corpang,” said Maskull, turning a shade + darker. “I don’t accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes.” +

+

+ “If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead.” +

+

+ The woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. “I wish you to + stay with us.” +

+

+ “Why?” +

+

+ “I think you may know what you are talking about. I don’t wish + to bring harm to Maskull. Presently I’ll leave you.” +

+

+ “That will be best,” said Corpang. +

+

+ Maskull looked angry. “I shall decide—Sullenbode, whether you + go on, or back, I stay with you. My mind is made up.” +

+

+ An expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her efforts + to conceal it. “Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?” +

+

+ He returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered brows. + After a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. “Wait, Sullenbode!” +

+

+ The others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the woman + smiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her lips. Then he + relinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang. +

+

+ “How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?” +

+

+ “It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to me.” +

+

+ “Then I say no more; but you are a fated man.” +

+

+ From that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the others. +

+

+ A heavy gleam appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Now things are + changed, Maskull. Where are you taking me?” +

+

+ “Choose, you.” +

+

+ “The man I love must complete his journey. I won’t have it + otherwise. You shall not stand lower than Corpang.” +

+

+ “Where you go, I will go.” +

+

+ “And I—as long as your love endures, I will accompany you—even + to Adage.” +

+

+ “Do you doubt its lasting?” +

+

+ “I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you + before. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love me no + longer, I must die.” +

+

+ “And why?” asked Maskull slowly. +

+

+ “Yes, that’s the responsibility you incurred when you kissed + me for the first time. I never meant to tell you.” +

+

+ “Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?” +

+

+ “I have no other life but what you give me.” +

+

+ He gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then slowly + placed his arms around her body. During this embrace he turned very pale, + but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk. +

+

+ A few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed. +

+

+ They had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky and + nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the character + of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow disappeared, and + gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little grassy hillocks and + marshes. They began to slip about and become draggled with mud. + Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and the men followed in her + tracks. The southern half of the landscape grew grander. The greenish + light of the brilliant moon, shining on the multitude of snow-green peaks, + caused it to appear like a spectral world. Their nearest neighbour towered + high above them on the other side of the valley, due south, some five + miles distant. It was a slender, inaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, + the angles of which were too steep to retain snow. A great upward-curving + horn of rock sprang out from its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it + constituted their cheif landmark. +

+

+ The whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The surface soil + was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed in the damp mists + by night, and breathed them out again by day, under Branchspell’s + rays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then difficult, and finally + dangerous. None of the party could distinguish firm ground from bog. + Sullenbode sank up to her waist in a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her, + but after this incident took the lead himself. Corpang was the next to + meet with trouble. Exploring a new path for himself, he tumbled into + liquid mud up to his shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death. After + Maskull had got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded once more; + but now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had to be + thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the test + frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end they no + longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered from top to + toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. He not only had + the exhausting task of beating the way, but was continually called upon to + help his companions out of their difficulties. Without him they could not + have got through. +

+

+ After a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength. + Corpang’s breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, + and depressed. +

+

+ Maskull gazed at them doubtfully. “Does this continue?” he + inquired. +

+

+ “No. I think,” replied the woman, “we can’t be far + from the Mornstab Pass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then + the road will improve perhaps.” +

+

+ “Can you have been here before?” +

+

+ “Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then.” +

+

+ “You are tired out, Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “What of it?” she replied, smiling faintly. “When one + has a terrible lover, one must pay the price.” +

+

+ “We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we + come to.” +

+

+ “I leave it to you.” +

+

+ He paced up and down, while the others sat. “Do you regret anything?” + he demanded suddenly. +

+

+ “No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.” +

+

+ “Your feelings are unchanged?” +

+

+ “Love can’t go back—it can only go on.” +

+

+ “Yes, eternally on. It is so.” +

+

+ “No, I don’t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax + has been reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.” +

+

+ “That’s a dreadful creed,” he said in a low voice, + turning pale beneath his coating of mud. +

+

+ “Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don’t know + what I feel.” +

+

+ In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey + recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain + off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge of + the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was nothing + but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was the + lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces of + earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with stunted + vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands that way, + but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to east and west, + the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. A low haze + concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air, broken only + by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall. +

+

+ Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country. The + moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an Earth + day. +

+

+ “Tonight is like life,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ “How so?” +

+

+ “So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.” +

+

+ Maskull sighed. “Poor girl, you are unhappy.” +

+

+ “And you—are you happy?” +

+

+ He thought a while, and then replied—“No. No, I’m not + happy. Love is not happiness.” +

+

+ “What is it, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Restlessness—unshed tears—thoughts too grand for our + soul to think...” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Sullenbode. +

+

+ After a time she asked, “Why were we created, just to live for a few + years and then disappear?” +

+

+ “We are told that we shall live again.” +

+

+ “Yes, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Perhaps in Muspel,” he added thoughtfully. +

+

+ “What kind of life will that be?” +

+

+ “Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a + thing to remain uncompleted.” +

+

+ She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. “This dream is + untrue. Love is completed here.” +

+

+ “How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by + Fate?” +

+

+ “It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment + for us? Can’t we suffer—can’t we go on suffering, + forever and ever? Maskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and + without remedy, we don’t begin to feel ourselves.” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. “Can the memory of + love be worth more than its presence and reality?” +

+

+ “You don’t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all + the rest beside.” She caught at him. “Oh, if you could only + see inside my mind, Maskull! You would see strange things.... I can’t + explain. It is all confused, even to myself.... This love is quite + different from what I thought.” +

+

+ He sighed again. “Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong + for human beings. And I think that it overturns our reason in different + ways.” +

+

+ They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with + unseeing eyes. +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” said Sullenbode at last, with a + smile, getting up. “Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, + let us be off!” +

+

+ Maskull too got up. +

+

+ “Where’s Corpang?” he asked listlessly. +

+

+ They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the point + where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly toward + the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy list. + Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards, but then + a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from side to + side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out all further + view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to the other, was + crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining brightly in the + moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were about thirty in + all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that there was little + doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some were + perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme + antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing the + hill, not far from the top. +

+

+ “He wishes to arrive,” said Maskull, watching the energetic + ascent with a rather cynical smile. +

+

+ “The heavens won’t open for Corpang,” returned + Sullenbode. “He need not be in such a hurry.... What do these + pillars seem like to you?” +

+

+ “They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have + planted them there?” +

+

+ She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill, and + disappear through the line of posts. +

+

+ Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. “Now we two are alone in a + lonely world.” +

+

+ She regarded him steadily. “Our last night on this earth must be a + grand one. I am ready to go on.” +

+

+ “I don’t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go + down the pass a little, and find shelter.” +

+

+ She half smiled. “We won’t study our poor bodies tonight. I + mean you to go to Adage, Maskull.” +

+

+ “Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, + terrible climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?” +

+

+ She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to + him. “Come, Maskull!” +

+
+

+ When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the foot + of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the hill, + and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode, but she + appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind and above + the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began to be + illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter faded; + the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the light of + Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid, peculiar, and + awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing—it was + supernatural and indescribable. Maskull’s spirit swelled. He stood + fast, with expanded nostrils and terrible eyes. +

+

+ Sullenbode touched him lightly. +

+

+ “What do you see, Maskull?” +

+

+ “Muspel-light.” +

+

+ “I see nothing.” +

+

+ The light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It burned + with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot the + existence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. Each beat + was like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the sky and making + the air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and one continuous roar + of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm persisted—the four + beats, with the third accented, still came pulsing through the atmosphere, + only now against a background of thunder, and not of silence. +

+

+ Maskull’s heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed + to throw it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the sublime + universe which was beginning to unveil itself. +

+

+ Sullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed him—passionately, + again and again. He made no response; he was unaware of what she was + doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and streaming eyes, went + noiselessly away. She started to go back toward the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ A few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died down. + The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside were again + bright. In a short time the supernatural light had entirely vanished, but + the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled rhythm, from behind the + hill. Maskull started violently, and stared around him like a suddenly + awakened sleeper. +

+

+ He saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards off. + At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, calling out.... + She did not look around. When he had lessened the distance between them by + a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and fall. She did not get up again, + but lay motionless where she fell. +

+

+ He flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were realised. + Life had departed. +

+

+ Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman + grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful + to him as at that moment. +

+
+

+ He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept—but, + between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and + listened to the distant drum beats. +

+

+ An hour passed—two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. + Maskull lifted Sullenbode’s dead body on to his shoulders, and + started to walk toward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He intended + to look for water in which to wash the corpse of his beloved, and earth in + which to bury her. +

+

+ When he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which they + had sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead girl on the + stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over toward Barey. +

+

+ After that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass. +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 20. BAREY +

+

+ The day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull awoke + from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The air was cool + and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was singing; the song + consisted of only two notes, but it was so plaintive and heartbreaking + that he scarcely knew how to endure it. +

+

+ The eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band of + chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was blue-tinted, + mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was visible. +

+

+ The saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had descended + that distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, like a huge + flying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay perhaps fifteen + hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was rough, and the angle was + excessively steep, though not precipitous. It was above a mile across. On + each side of it, east and west, the dark walls of the ridge descended + sheer. At the point where the pass sprang outward they were two thousand + feet from top to bottom, but as the ridge went upward, on the one hand + toward Adage, on the other toward Sarclash, they attained almost + unbelievable heights. Despite the great breadth and solidity of the pass, + Maskull felt as though he were suspended in midair. +

+

+ The patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked + Sullenbode’s grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, + with a long, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white steam + of a hot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where he sat he + was unable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately flowed, but it + was in that pool that he had last night washed first of all the dead girl’s + body, and then his own. +

+

+ He got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him dully. + For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed by + imperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. The sky + was nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the mighty ridge + behind him began to emerge from the morning mist... there was a part of + Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic Adage itself, which he could + only take in by throwing his head right back. +

+

+ He gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his desires + were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do nothing. He thought + he would go to Barey. +

+

+ He went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting + beside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag. +

+

+ Maskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin shirt + and breeches. His face was stern, yellow, and ugly. He eyed Maskull + without smiling or getting up. +

+

+ “Where in the devil’s name have you come from, Krag?” +

+

+ “The great point is, I am here.” +

+

+ “Where’s Nightspore?” +

+

+ “Not far away.” +

+

+ “It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me + in such a damnable fashion?” +

+

+ “You were strong enough to get through alone.” +

+

+ “So it turned out, but how were you to know?.... Anyway, you’ve + timed it well. It seems I am to die today.” +

+

+ Krag scowled. “You will die this morning.” +

+

+ “If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?” +

+

+ “You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is + there to live for?” +

+

+ “Nothing,” said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. “I am + quite ready. I have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... + So now you’ve come to rejoin me. Where are we going?” +

+

+ “Through Barey.” +

+

+ “And what about Nightspore?” +

+

+ Krag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. “We won’t wait + for him. He’ll be there as soon as we shall.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “At our destination.... Come! The sun’s rising.” +

+
+

+ As they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, huge + and white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of the dawn + vanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some trees and plants, + the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in sleep. +

+

+ Maskull pointed them out to his companion. +

+

+ “How is it the sunshine doesn’t open them?” +

+

+ “Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain.” +

+

+ “How long will it be before that sun rises?” +

+

+ “Some time yet.” +

+

+ “Shall I live to see it, do you think?” +

+

+ “Do you want to?” +

+

+ “At one time I did, but now I’m indifferent.” +

+

+ “Keep in that humour, and you’ll do well. Once for all, there’s + nothing worth seeing on Tormance.” +

+

+ After a few minutes Maskull said, “Why did we come here, then?” +

+

+ “To follow Surtur.” +

+

+ “True. But where is he?” +

+

+ “Closer at hand than you think, perhaps.” +

+

+ “Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is + supernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow + connected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what is + Surtur?” +

+

+ “Don’t disturb yourself about that. You will never know.” +

+

+ “Do you know?” +

+

+ “I know,” snarled Krag. +

+

+ “The devil here is called Krag,” went on Maskull, peering into + his face. +

+

+ “As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil.” +

+

+ “Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I + to believe of you?” +

+

+ “Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman.” +

+

+ They continued descending the landslip. The sun’s rays had grown + insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, + Maskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were + travelling toward a lake district. +

+

+ “What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days, + Krag? What happened to the torpedo?” +

+

+ “You’re just about on the same mental level as a man who sees + a brand-new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding.” +

+

+ “What palace have you been building, then?” +

+

+ “We have not been idle,” said Krag. “While you have been + murdering and lovemaking, we have had our work.” +

+

+ “And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?” +

+

+ “Oh, you’re an open book. Now you’ve got a mortal heart + wound on account of a woman you knew for six hours.” +

+

+ Maskull turned pale. “Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman + for six hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your leather + heart. You haven’t even the feelings of an insect.” +

+

+ “Behold the child defending its toys!” said Krag, grinning + faintly. +

+

+ Maskull stopped short. “What do you want with me, and why did you + bring me here?” +

+

+ “It’s no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect,” + said Krag, pulling him into motion again. “The distance has got to + be covered, however often we pull up.” +

+

+ When he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through his + heart. +

+

+ “I can’t go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You’re + something more than a man—whether good or evil, I can’t say.” +

+

+ Krag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull’s + remark, but after a pause said, “So you’ve been trying to find + Surtur on your own account, during the intervals between killing and + fondling?” +

+

+ “What was that drumming?” demanded Maskull. +

+

+ “You needn’t look so important. We know you had your ear to + the keyhole. But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing + for you, my friend.” +

+

+ Maskull smiled rather bitterly. “At all events, I listen through no + more keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing + any more, from this time forward.” +

+

+ “Brave words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will + make one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more.” +

+

+ “Now I don’t understand you.” +

+

+ “You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don’t you? Well, + that may prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all.” +

+

+ The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour + later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was + approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it would + clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive, saucer-shaped + ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was glowing with bright + morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands of feet higher still, + guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In front of them, starting + from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting wilderness of little + lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark green; the forests were + asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain. +

+

+ “Are we now in Barey?” asked Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes—and there is one of the natives.” +

+

+ There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull did + not see it. +

+

+ A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees, apparently + waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and beardless, and was + still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark blue, loosely flowing + robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His face, which was not + disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest, and grave, yet + somehow remarkably pleasing. +

+

+ Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull’s hand, but even + while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The + latter responded with a scowling grin. +

+

+ When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone, but + it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and variety + of tone. +

+

+ “I’ve been waiting for you here since sunrise,” he said. + “Welcome to Barey, Maskull! Let’s hope you’ll forget + your sorrows here, you over-tested man.” +

+

+ Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. “What made you + expect me, and how do you know my name?” +

+

+ The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. “I’m + Gangnet. I know most things.” +

+

+ “Haven’t you a greeting for me too—Gangnet?” asked + Krag, thrusting his forbidding features almost into the other’s + face. +

+

+ “I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome.” +

+

+ “And I know you, Gangnet—you man-woman.... Well, we are here + together, and you must make what you can of it. We are going down to the + Ocean.” +

+

+ The smile faded from Gangnet’s face. “I can’t drive you + away, Krag—but I can make you the unwelcome third.” +

+

+ Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. “That + bargain suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have + the shadow, and much good may it do you.” +

+

+ “Now that it’s all arranged so satisfactorily,” said + Maskull, with a hard smile, “permit me to say that I don’t + desire any society at all at present.... You take too much for granted, + Krag. You have played the false friend once already.... I presume I’m + a free agent?” +

+

+ “To be a free man, one must have a universe of one’s own,” + said Krag, with a jeering look. “What do you say, Gangnet—is + this a free world?” +

+

+ “Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man’s + privilege,” returned Gangnet tranquilly. “Maskull is quite + within his rights, and if you’ll engage to leave him I’ll do + the same.” +

+

+ “Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won’t + get rid of me so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull.” +

+

+ “It doesn’t matter,” muttered Maskull. “Let + everyone join in the procession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, + anyhow, if what they say is true.” +

+

+ “I’ll lead the way,” said Gangnet. “You don’t + know this country, of course, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some + miles farther down, we shall be able to travel by water, but at present we + must walk, I fear.” +

+

+ “Yes, you fear—you fear!” broke out Krag, in a + highpitched, scraping voice. “You eternal loller!” +

+

+ Maskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There seemed to + be a determined hostility between the two, which indicated an intimate + previous acquaintance. +

+

+ They set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for a + mile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that flowed + beside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured leaves were + all folded. There was no underbrush—they walked on clean, brown + earth, A distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, but the air was + pleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate them. The bright lake + outside looked cool and poetic. +

+

+ Gangnet pressed Maskull’s arm affectionately. “If the bringing + of you from your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would have + brought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have escaped + the dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to you.” +

+

+ “And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the + same.” +

+

+ “You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference + whether one sees darkness through the light, or brightness through the + shadows.” +

+

+ “A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly + prefer to know it as it really is.” +

+

+ “The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman’s + thoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and + Pleasantness. Even Krag won’t have the effrontery to deny that.” +

+

+ “It’s very nice here,” said Krag, looking around him + malignantly. “One only wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to + complete it.” +

+

+ Maskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. “Last night, when I was + struggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight—then I thought + the world beautiful.” +

+

+ “Poor Sullenbode!” said Gangnet, sighing. +

+

+ “What! You knew her?” +

+

+ “I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show + your own nobility. I think all women are noble.” +

+

+ “There may be millions of noble women, but there’s only one + Sullenbode.” +

+

+ “If Sullenbode can exist,” said Gangnet, “the world + cannot be a bad place.” +

+

+ “Change the subject.... The world’s hard and cruel, and I am + thankful to be leaving it.” +

+

+ “On one point, though, you both agree,” said Krag, smiling + evilly. “Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced at him coldly. “We know your peculiar theories, + Krag. You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could + not go on being, without pleasure.” +

+

+ “So Gangnet thinks!” jeered Krag. +

+

+ They came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a + little cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh series of + lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big mountain slope, + built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose border they had been + travelling was not banked at the end, but overflowed to the lower level in + half a dozen beautiful, threadlike falls, white and throwing off spray. + The cliff was not perpendicular, and the men found it easy to negotiate. +

+

+ At the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and they + had nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled through the + heart of it; they followed its bank. +

+

+ “It has occurred to me,” said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, + “that Alppain may be my death. Is that so?” +

+

+ “These trees don’t fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is + a wonderful, life-bringing sun.” +

+

+ “The reason I ask is—I’ve seen its afterglow, and it + produced such violent sensations that a very little more would have proved + too much.” +

+

+ “Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain + itself, it will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling of + wills inside you.” +

+

+ “And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull,” said Krag, + grinning, “is Crystalman’s trump card.” +

+

+ “How do you mean?” +

+

+ “You’ll see. You’ll renounce the world so eagerly that + you’ll want to stay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled. “Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither + enjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?” +

+

+ Maskull turned toward Krag. “It’s very odd, but I don’t + understand your creed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?” +

+

+ Krag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. “What, + because they have left off stroking you?” he exclaimed, laughing and + showing his discoloured teeth. +

+

+ “Whoever you are, and whatever you want,” said Maskull, + “you seem very certain of yourself.” +

+

+ “Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn’t + you! That would be an excellent way of destroying lies.” +

+

+ Gangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and picked + up two or three objects that resembled eggs. +

+

+ “To eat?” asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift. +

+

+ “Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one + mustn’t insult Krag by offering him a pleasure—especially such + a low pleasure.” +

+

+ Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid + contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the remaining egg + out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and + stuck, a splash of slime. +

+

+ “I don’t wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a + filthier sight than a smashed pleasure?” +

+

+ Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull’s arm. +

+

+ After they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs and + slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep + mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles, + during which space the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet, + at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this + immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous + forest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they + had hitherto passed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in sleep, + but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the fact that they + were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been completely + intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with light, and this + light, being tinged with the colour of the branches, was a soft and lovely + rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the illumination, that Maskull’s + spirits immediately started to rise, although he did not wish it. +

+

+ He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive. +

+

+ “What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!” + rasped Krag mockingly. “Why isn’t Sullenbode here?” +

+

+ Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag + recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit + discomposed. +

+

+ “Still what I said—was it true or untrue?” +

+

+ Maskull gazed at him sternly. “You seem to regard yourself as a + necessary evil. I’m under no obligation to go on with you any + farther. I think we had better part.” +

+

+ Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness. +

+

+ “What do you say—do we part when Maskull pleases, or + when I please?” +

+

+ “Keep your temper, Maskull,” said Gangnet, showing Krag his + back. “I know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened + onto you there’s only one way of making him lose his hold, by + ignoring him. Despise him—say nothing to him, don’t answer his + questions. If you refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not + here.” +

+

+ “I’m beginning to be tired of it all,” said Maskull. + “It seems as if I shall add one more to my murders, before I have + finished.” +

+

+ “I smell murder in the air,” exclaimed Krag, pretending to + sniff. “But whose?” +

+

+ “Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on + fire.” +

+

+ “I’ll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this + accursed forest?” +

+

+ “It’s some way yet, but when we’re once out we can take + to the water, and you will be able to rest, and think.” +

+

+ “And brood comfortably over your sufferings,” added Krag. +

+

+ None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the open + day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to run, + rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation, even if + they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an hour they + were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of them as far + as they could see. +

+

+ Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a succession + of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of tree-covered land. + The lake immediately before them had its small end to the forest. It was + there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the sides and end was + shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but in the middle, beginning + a few yards from the shore, there was a perceptible current away from + them. In view of this current, it was difficult to decide whether it was a + lake or a river. Some little floating islands were in the shallows. +

+

+ “Is it here that we take to the water?” inquired Maskull. +

+

+ “Yes, here,” answered Gangnet. +

+

+ “But how?” +

+

+ “One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the + stream.” +

+

+ Maskull frowned. “Where will it carry us to?” +

+

+ “Come, get on, get on!” said Krag, laughing uncouthly. “The + morning’s wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are + going to the Ocean.” +

+

+ “If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?” +

+

+ “Gangnet will murder you.” +

+

+ “You lie!” said Gangnet. “I wish Maskull nothing but + good.” +

+

+ “At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it + matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well, + Gangnet, I see you’re as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the + work.” +

+

+ He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, + splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was up + to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet from + end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there was no + form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it, and started + shoving it toward the current, apparently without having unduly to exert + himself. When it was within the influence of the stream the others waded + out to him, and all three climbed on. +

+

+ The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles an + hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there was no + shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and + periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches + next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an + animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of the + stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to be + floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary. +

+

+ Krag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet’s hat, crushing it + together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream. +

+

+ “Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?” he asked with + a harsh guffaw—“Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it + somewhere.” +

+

+ Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His + dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and noble, + and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was + strangely appealing to the feelings. +

+

+ “Let Maskull judge,” he said with proud composure, “whether + I have anything to be ashamed of.” +

+

+ “There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head,” + muttered Maskull, staring hard at him. +

+

+ “A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens + when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?” +

+

+ “What enterprises?” asked Maskull, in astonishment. +

+

+ “What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull.” +

+

+ “There are two forms of practical activity,” replied Gangnet + calmly. “One may either build up, or destroy.” +

+

+ “No, there’s a third species. One may steal—and not even + know one is stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money.” +

+

+ Maskull raised his eyebrows. “Where have you two met before?” +

+

+ “I’m paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull, but once upon a + time Gangnet paid me a visit.” +

+

+ “Where?” +

+

+ “In my home—whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief.” +

+

+ “You are speaking in riddles, and I don’t understand you. I + don’t know either of you, but it’s clear that if Gangnet is a + poet, you’re a buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet.” +

+

+ Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length, with + his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep, and snoring + disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow, repulsive face + with strong disfavour. +

+

+ Two hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile distant. In + front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, the Lichstorm + Mountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had gathered together. + The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to be of a strange colour. It + was an intense jale-blue. The whole northern atmosphere was stained with + ulfire. +

+

+ Maskull’s mind grew disturbed. “Alppain is rising, Gangnet.” +

+

+ Gangnet smiled wistfully. “It begins to trouble you?” +

+

+ “It is so solemn—tragical, almost—yet it recalls me to + Earth. Life was no longer important—but this is important.” +

+

+ “Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you + will be like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open day. + Then you will ask yourself how you could have been blind.” +

+

+ The two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in the + north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary colours, + among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the principal character of + an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding character of this dawn + was wildness. It did not baffle the understanding, but the heart. Maskull + felt no inarticulate craving to seize and perpetuate the sunrise, and make + it his own. Instead of that, it agitated and tormented him, like the + opening bars of a supernatural symphony. +

+

+ When he looked back to the south, Branchspell’s day had lost its + glare, and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. He + instinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from darkness to + light. +

+

+ “If those were Crystalman’s thoughts that you showed me + before, Gangnet, these must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I + am feeling now, he must have felt before me.” +

+

+ “He is all feeling, Maskull—don’t you understand + that?” +

+

+ Maskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not + reply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the + beginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious that + Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had by this + time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides they were + surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and shut out all sight + of land. Krag was still sleeping—an ugly, wrinkled monstrosity. +

+

+ Maskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its dark + green colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency. +

+

+ “Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Then nothing remains except my death.” +

+

+ “Don’t think of death, but life.” +

+

+ “It’s growing brighter—at the same time, more sombre. + Krag seems to be fading away....” +

+

+ “There is Alppain!” said Gangnet, touching his arm. +

+

+ The deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull was + struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. His emotions + were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his body. The great blue + orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an awful eye watching him.... it + shot above the sea with a bound, and Alppain’s day commenced. +

+

+ “What do you feel?” Gangnet still held his arm. +

+

+ “I have set myself against the Infinite,” muttered Maskull. +

+

+ Suddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea swept + through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy. +

+

+ “Why, Gangnet—I am nothing.” +

+

+ “No, you are nothing.” +

+

+ The mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the two + suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast by Alppain + were not black, but were composed of white daylight. +

+

+ “Then nothing can hurt me,” said Maskull with a peculiar + smile. +

+

+ Gangnet smiled too. “How could it?” +

+

+ “I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped + away, leaving me clean and free.” +

+

+ “Do you now understand life, Maskull?” +

+

+ Gangnet’s face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual + beauty; he looked as if he had descended from heaven. +

+

+ “I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this + is life.” +

+

+ “Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?” said a + jeering voice above them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his + feet. +

+

+ They both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to obscure + Alppain’s disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale. +

+

+ “What do you want with us, Krag?” asked Maskull with simple + composure. +

+

+ Krag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped around + them. +

+

+ “Don’t you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?” +

+

+ Maskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his shoulder, and + suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the ground, near the edge of + the island raft. His heart was thumping heavily and queerly; its beating + reminded him of the drum taps. He gazed languidly at the rippling water, + and it seemed to him as if he could see right through it... away, + away down... to a strange fire.... +

+

+ The water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island was + transformed into a cloud, and Maskull—alone on it—was floating + through the atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire—the fire of + Muspel. The light mounted higher and higher, until it filled the whole + world.... +

+

+ He floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, without + top or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was dealing + terrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The rhythmical, + clanging sounds were hideous. +

+

+ Presently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum beats. + “What are you doing, Krag?” he asked. +

+

+ Krag suspended his work, and turned around. +

+

+ “Beating on your heart, Maskull,” was his grinning response. +

+
+

+ The cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the air—but + it was not Gangnet—it was Crystalman. He seemed to be trying to + escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and licking him, + whichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire caught him. He + shrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a vulgar, slobbering face—and + then that too disappeared. +

+
+

+ He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by + Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there. +

+

+ “What is this Ocean called?” asked Maskull, bringing out the + words with difficulty. +

+

+ “Surtur’s Ocean.” +

+

+ Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his + arm. “Where’s Nightspore?” he asked suddenly. +

+

+ Krag bent over him with a grave expression. “You are Nightspore.” +

+

+ The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. +

+

+ Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, + “Who are you?” +

+

+ Krag maintained a gloomy silence. +

+

+ Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull’s heart, + and he died immediately. +

+

+ Krag turned his head around. “The night is really past at last, + Nightspore.... The day is here.” +

+

+ Nightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull’s body. “Why + was all this necessary?” +

+

+ “Ask Crystalman,” replied Krag sternly. “His world is no + joke. He has a strong clutch—but I have a stronger... Maskull was + his, but Nightspore is mine.” +

+

+ + +

+
+



+
+

+ Chapter 21. MUSPEL +

+

+ The fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all grew as + black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his companion. The water + lapped gently against the side of the island raft. +

+

+ “You say the night is past,” said Nightspore. “But the + night is still here. Am I dead, or alive?” +

+

+ “You are still in Crystalman’s world, but you belong to it no + more. We are approaching Muspel.” +

+

+ Nightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air—a rhythmical + pulsation, in four-four time. “There is the drumming,” he + exclaimed. +

+

+ “Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?” +

+

+ “I half understand it, but I’m all confused.” +

+

+ “It’s evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty + deeply,” said Krag. “The sound comes from Muspel, but the + rhythm is caused by its travelling through Crystalman’s atmosphere. + His nature is rhythm as he loves to call it—or dull, deadly + repetition, as I name it.” +

+

+ “I remember,” said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark. +

+

+ The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A small + patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of them, began + faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea around it. +

+

+ “Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few + like me?” asked Nightspore. +

+

+ “If all escaped, I shouldn’t sweat, my friend... There’s + hard work, and anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us + yonder.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart sank. “Have I not yet finished, then?” +

+

+ “If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?” +

+

+ The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a tiny + oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag’s grim + and rocklike features were revealed. +

+

+ “I can’t face rebirth,” said Nightspore. “The + horror of death is nothing to it.” +

+

+ “You will choose.” +

+

+ “I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with + my own soul.” +

+

+ “You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,” + said Krag. +

+

+ Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something. The + water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that they + scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull’s + corpse had disappeared. +

+

+ The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of light + grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness above, below, + and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the semblance of a + huge, black wall, without bounds. +

+

+ “Is that really a wall we are coming to?” +

+

+ “You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is + the gate you have to enter.” +

+

+ Nightspore’s heart beat wildly. +

+

+ “Shall I remember?” he muttered. +

+

+ “Yes, you’ll remember.” +

+

+ “Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.” +

+

+ “There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for + you.” +

+

+ “You are returning to the struggle?” demanded Nightspore, + gnawing his fingertips. +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “I dare not.” +

+

+ The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like + actual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer able to + look at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous lightning, but + it possessed this further peculiarity—that it seemed somehow to give + out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. They continued to + approach the wall of darkness, straight toward the door. The glasslike + water flowed right against it, its surface reaching up almost to the + threshold. +

+

+ They could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening. +

+

+ In a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his back + and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded by the + light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed to enlarge + itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently. +

+

+ The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and pulled + Nightspore after him. +

+

+ Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound—blows + totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark and quiet as + an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim, burning passion, which + was to light and sound what light itself is to opaque colour. +

+

+ Nightspore pressed his hand to his heart. “I don’t know if I + can endure it,” he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his + person far more vividly and distinctly than if he had been able to see + him. +

+

+ “Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious + than on earth. We can’t squander the minutes. There are terrible and + tragic affairs to attend to, which won’t wait for us... Go in at + once. Stop for nothing.” +

+

+ “Where shall I go to?” muttered Nightspore. “I have + forgotten everything.” +

+

+ “Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can’t mistake it.” +

+

+ “Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?” +

+

+ “To have your wounds healed.” +

+

+ Almost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to the + island raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at once + recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was completely + invisible; everything outside was black night. +

+

+ The moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore’s heart like + a thousand trumpets. +

+
+

+ Straight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a + steep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other way + forward. +

+

+ He put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft. He + saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was + perceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, and + deserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a ladder + to heaven. +

+

+ After he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. Each + step was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he were + carrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar chord in his + mind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a window set in a high + embrasure. +

+

+ On to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a sort of + glass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, from the world + outside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his senses, causing his + blood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a low, mocking, vulgar + laugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at the next it was like a + rhythmical vibration of the air—the silent, continuous throbbing of + some mighty engine. The two sensations were identical, yet different. They + seemed to be related in the same manner as soul and body. After feeling + them for a long time, Nightspore got down from the embrasure, and + continued his ascent, having meanwhile grown very serious. +

+

+ The climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop at + every third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. When he + had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a second window. + Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of the air, too, had + ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as distinct as before, and + its rhythm had become double. There were two separate pulses; one was in + the time of a march, the other in the time of a waltz. The first was + bitter and petrifying to feel, but the second was gay, enervating, and + horrible. +

+

+ Nightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was on + the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more important + awaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent grew more and more + exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to sit down, utterly crushed + by his own dead weight. Still, he got to the third window. +

+

+ He climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves into + vision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A gigantic, + self-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying nearly the whole of + it. This sphere was composed entirely of two kinds of active beings. There + were a myriad of tiny green corpuscles, varying in size from the very + small to the almost indiscernible. They were not green, but he somehow saw + them so. They were all striving in one direction—toward himself, + toward Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any headway. + Their action produced the marching rhythm he had previously felt, but this + rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves, but was a + consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding these atoms + of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light that gyrated + hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with them wherever they + desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the waltzing rhythm. It + seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were not only being danced about + against their will but were suffering excruciating shame and degradation + in consequence. The larger ones were steadier than the extremely small, a + few were even almost stationary, and one was advancing in the direction it + wished to go. +

+

+ He turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and + searched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what he + had just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began to take + possession of him. +

+

+ On his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him to + be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but he never + dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did not once permit + himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by the time that he had + clambered into the recess, that for several minutes he could see nothing + at all—the world seemed to be spinning round him rapidly. +

+

+ When at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all was + changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants, animals, + and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything was so + magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of life. In the + interior of every individual, of every aggregate of individuals, of every + chemical atom, he clearly perceived the presence of the green corpuscles. + But, according to the degree of dignity of the life form, they were + fragmentary or comparatively large. In the crystal, for example, the + green, imprisoned life was so minute as to be scarcely visible; in some + men it was hardly bigger; but in other men and women it was twenty or a + hundred times greater. But, great or small, it played an important part in + every individual. It appeared as if the whirls of white light, which were + the individuals, and plainly showed themselves beneath the enveloping + bodies, were delighted with existence and wished only to enjoy it, but the + green corpuscles were in a condition of eternal discontent, yet, blind and + not knowing which way to turn for liberation, kept changing form, as + though breaking a new path, by way of experiment. Whenever the old + grotesque became metamorphosed into the new grotesque, it was in every + case the direct work of the green atoms, trying to escape toward Muspel, + but encountering immediate opposition. These subdivided sparks of living, + fiery spirit were hopelessly imprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft + pleasure. They were being effeminated and corrupted—that is to say, + absorbed in the foul, sickly enveloping forms. +

+

+ Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that + spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and + understood why Krag was waiting for him below. +

+

+ He mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against him was + as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and irregularity, so that + he was not for an instant suffered to relax his efforts. Nevertheless, not + a breath stirred. +

+

+ Looking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The sphere was + still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which he was standing + he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any distinguishable shape, but + somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting sweetness. Nightspore knew that + it was Crystalman. A flood of fierce light—but it was not light, but + passion—was streaming all the time from Muspel to the Shadow, and + through it. When, however, it emerged on the other side, which was the + sphere, the light was altered in character. It became split, as by a + prism, into the two forms of life which he had previously seen—the + green corpuscles and the whirls. What had been fiery spirit but a moment + ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling individuals, each + whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a fragmentary spark of + living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back rays of Starkness, and + it flashed across him with the certainty of truth that the green sparks + were the back rays, and the whirls the forward rays, of Muspel. The former + were trying desperately to return to their place of origin, but were + overpowered by the brute force of the latter, which wished only to remain + where they were. The individual whirls were jostling and fighting with, + and even devouring, each other. This created pain, but, whatever pain they + felt, it was always pleasure that they sought. Sometimes the green sparks + were strong enough for a moment to move a little way in the direction of + Muspel; the whirls would then accept the movement, not only without demur, + but with pride and pleasure, as if it were their own handiwork—but + they never saw beyond the Shadow, they thought that they were travelling + toward it. The instant the direct movement wearied them, as + contrary to their whirling nature, they fell again to killing, dancing, + and loving. +

+

+ Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to be the + last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for he guessed + that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become manifest. Every + step upward was like a bloody life-and-death struggle. The stairs nailed + him to the ground; the air pressure caused blood to gush from his nose and + ears; his head clanged like an iron bell. When he had fought his way up a + dozen steps, he found himself suddenly at the top; the staircase + terminated in a small, bare chamber of cold stone, possessing a single + window. On the other side of the apartment another short flight of stairs + mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of the building. Before + ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the window and stared out. +

+

+ The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled the + whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow. It + had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way suggested the delicate + tints of early morning. It was so nebulous that the sphere could be + clearly distinguished through it; in extension, however, it was thick. The + sweet smell emanating from it was strong, loathsome, and terrible; it + seemed to spring from a sort of loose, mocking slime inexpressibly vulgar + and ignorant. +

+

+ The spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. It was + not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or the Many, + but something else far beyond either. It approached Crystalman, and + entered his body—if that bright mist could be called a body. It + passed right through him, and the passage caused him the most exquisite + pleasure. The Muspel-stream was Crystalman’s food. The stream + emerged from the other side on to the sphere, in a double condition. Part + of it reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but shivered into a million + fragments. These were the green corpuscles. In passing through Crystalman + they had escaped absorption by reason of their extreme minuteness. The + other part of the stream had not escaped. Its fire had been abstracted, + its cement was withdrawn, and, after being fouled and softened by the + horrible sweetness of the host, it broke into individuals, which were + the whirls of living will. +

+

+ Nightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of will + was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel joy. +

+

+ Presently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he + remembered vaguely that now only that remained. +

+

+ Halfway up, he fainted—but when he recovered consciousness he + persisted as though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head was + above the trap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical sensation + as a man stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and stood + expectantly on the stone-floored roof, looking round for his first glimpse + of Muspel. +

+

+ There was nothing. +

+

+ He was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen feet + each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the stone parapet, + with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed him. +

+

+ Suddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct + impression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was + grinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was wholly + surrounded by Crystalman’s world, and that Muspel consisted of + himself and the stone tower on which he was sitting. +

+

+ Fire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque, vulgar, + ridiculous, sweetened individuals—once Spirit—were + calling out from their degradation and agony for salvation from Muspel.... + To answer that cry there was only himself... and Krag waiting below... and + Surtur—But where was Surtur? +

+

+ The truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. Muspel was + no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure indifference the existence + side by side with it of another false world, which had no right to be. + Muspel was fighting for its life—against all that is most shameful + and frightful—against sin masquerading as eternal beauty, against + baseness masquerading as Nature, against the Devil masquerading as God.... +

+

+ Now he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no + Valhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night; but + a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death—namely, + spiritual death—inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By + what means could he hold back from this horrible war! +

+

+ During those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self—the corruption + of his life on Earth—were scorched out of Nightspore’s soul, + perhaps not for the first time. +

+

+ After sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, a + strange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in awful + mystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery that he could + not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was the voice of + Crystalman. +

+
+

+Krag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a stern + glance at Nightspore. +

+

+ “Have you seen everything?” +

+

+ “The struggle is hopeless,” muttered Nightspore. +

+

+ “Did I not say I am the stronger?” +

+

+ “You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier.” +

+

+ “I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman’s Empire is + but a shadow on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the + bloodiest blows.... What do you mean to do?” +

+

+ Nightspore looked at him strangely. “Are you not Surtur, Krag?” +

+

+ “Yes.” +

+

+ “Yes,” said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. + “But what is your name on Earth?” +

+

+ “It is pain.” +

+

+ “That, too, I must have known.” +

+

+ He was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the raft. + Krag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness. +

+

+



+

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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +A Voyage to Arcturus. +By David Lindsay + + + + +1 The Seance +2 In the Street +3 Starkness +4 The Voice +5 The Night of Departure +6 Joiwind +7 Panawe +8 The Lusion Plain +9 Oceaxe +10 Tydomin +11 On Disscourn +12 Spadevil +13 The Wombflash Forest +14 Polecrab +15 Swaylone's Island +16 Leehallfae +17 Corpang +18 Haunte +19 Sullenbode +20 Barey +21 Muspel + + + + +Chapter 1 + +THE SEANCE + +On a march evening, at eight o'clock, Backhouse, the medium--a +fast-rising star in the psychic world--was ushered into the study at +Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was +illuminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him +with indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings +were exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to +his guest, the South American merchant sank back again into his own. +The electric light was switched on. Faull's prominent, clear-cut +features, metallic-looking skin, and general air of bored +impassiveness, did not seem greatly to impress the medium, who was +accustomed to regard men from a special angle. Backhouse, on the +contrary, was a novelty to the merchant. As he tranquilly studied +him through half closed lids and the smoke of a cigar, he wondered +how this little, thickset person with the pointed beard contrived to +remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in view of the morbid nature +of his occupation. + +"Do you smoke?" drawled Faull, by way of starting the Conversation. +"No? Then will you take a drink?" + +"Not at present, I thank you." + +A pause. + +"Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?" + +"I see no reason to doubt it." + +"That's good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I +have your check written out in my pocket." + +"Afterward will do quite well." + +"Nine o'clock was the time specified, I believe?" + +"I fancy so." + +The conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and +remained apathetic. + +"Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?" + +"I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests." + +"I mean the decoration of the seance room, the music, and so forth." + +Backhouse stared at his host. "But this is not a theatrical +performance." + +"That's correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be +ladies present, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined." + +"In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the +performance to the end." + +He spoke rather dryly. + +"Well, that's all right, then," said Faull. Flicking his cigar into +the fire, he got up and helped himself to whisky. + +"Will you come and see the room?" + +"Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time +arrives." + +"Then let's go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the drawing +room. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as I +am unmarried." + +"I will be delighted," said Backhouse coldly. + +They found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a +pensive attitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. +The medium took in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain- +like hands, and wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She +received him bravely, with just a shade of quiet emotion. He was +used to such receptions at the hands of the sex, and knew well how to +respond to them. + +"What amazes me," she half whispered, after ten minutes of graceful, +hollow conversation, "is, if you must know it, not so much the +manifestation itself--though that will surely be wonderful--as your +assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your +confidence." + +"I dream with open eyes," he answered, looking around at the door, +"and others see my dreams. That is all." + +"But that's beautiful," responded Mrs. Jameson. She smiled rather +absently, for the first guest had just entered. + +It was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd +judicial humour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt +to carry into private life. Although well on the wrong side of +seventy, his eyes were still disconcertingly bright. With the +selective skill of an old man, he immediately settled himself in the +most comfortable of many comfortable chairs. + +"So we are to see wonders tonight?" + +"Fresh material for your autobiography," remarked Faull. + +"Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old +public servant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. +Backhouse. You have no cause for alarm--I have studied in the +school of discretion." + +"I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your +publishing whatever you please." + +"You are most kind," said the old man, with a cunning smile. + +"Trent is not coming tonight," remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing a +curious little glance at her brother. + +"I never thought he would. It's not in his line." + +"Mrs. Trent, you must understand," she went on, addressing the ex- +magistrate, "has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has +decorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has +secured the services of the sweetest little orchestra." + +"But this is Roman magnificence." + +"Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference," +laughed Faull. + +"Surely, Mr. Backhouse--a poetic environment..." + +"Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to +elemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my +opinion. Nature is one thing, and art is another." + +"And I am not sure that I don't agree with you," said the ex- +magistrate. "An occasion like this ought to be simple, to guard +against the possibility of deception--if you will forgive my +bluntness, Mr. Backhouse." + +"We shall sit in full light," replied Backhouse, "and every +opportunity will be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also +ask you to submit me to a personal examination." + +A rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival +of two more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the +prosperous City coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well +known in his own circle as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was +slightly acquainted with the latter. Prior, perfuming the room with +the faint odour of wine and tobacco smoke, tried to introduce an +atmosphere of joviality into the proceedings. Finding that no one +seconded his efforts, however, he shortly subsided and fell to +examining the water colours on the walls. Lang, tall, thin, and +growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse a good deal. + +Coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone +partook, except Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor +Halbert was announced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author +and lecturer on crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in +their mental aspects. His presence at such a gathering somewhat +mystified the other guests, but all felt as if the object of their +meeting had immediately acquired additional solemnity. He was small, +meagre-looking, and mild in manner, but was probably the most +stubborn-brained of all that mixed company. Completely ignoring the +medium, he at once sat down beside Kent-Smith, with whom he began to +exchange remarks. + +At a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered, +unannounced. She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a +white, demure, saintlike face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson +and full that they seemed to be bursting with blood. Her tall, +graceful body was most expensively attired. Kisses were exchanged +between her and Mrs. Jameson. She bowed to the rest of the assembly, +and stole a half glance and a smile at Faull. The latter gave her a +queer look, and Backhouse, who lost nothing, saw the concealed +barbarian in the complacent gleam of his eye. She refused the +refreshment that was offered her, and Faull proposed that, as +everyone had now arrived, they should adjourn to the lounge hall. + +Mrs. Trent held up a slender palm. "Did you, or did you not, give me +carte blanche, Montague?" + +"Of course I did," said Faull, laughing. "But what's the matter?" + +"Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don't know. I have +invited a couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... +The two most extraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I +am sure." + +"It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?" + +"At least tell us their names, you provoking girl," put in Mrs. +Jameson. + +"One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of +Nightspore. That's nearly all that I know about them, so don't +overwhelm me with, any more questions." + +"But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up +somewhere." + +"But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned again convention? +I swear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be +here directly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy." + +"I don't know them," said Faull, "and nobody else seems to, but, of +course, we will all be very pleased to have them.... Shall we wait, +or what?" + +"I said nine, and it's past that now. It's quite possible they may +not turn up after all.... Anyway, don't wait." + +"I would prefer to start at once," said Backhouse. + +The lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been +divided for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade +curtain drawn across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. +The nearer half had been converted into an auditorium by a crescent +of armchairs. There was no other furniture. A large fire was burning +halfway along the wall, between the chairbacks and the door. The +room was brilliantly lighted by electric bracket lamps. A sumptuous +carpet covered the floor. + +Having settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the +curtain and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury +Lane presentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then +exposed to view: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, +the glowing sky above it in the background, and, silhouetted against +the latter, the gigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A +fantastically carved wooden couch lay before the pedestal of the +statue. Near the curtain, obliquely placed to the auditorium, was a +plain oak armchair, for the use of the medium. + +Many of those present felt privately that the setting was quite +inappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly of +ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual +compliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of +so remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward +and examine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior +and Lang were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about +among the pasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally +tapping a part of it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his +element, ignored the rest of his party and commenced a patient, +systematic search, on his own account, for secret apparatus. Faull +and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner of the temple, talking together in +low tones; while Mrs. Jameson, pretending to hold Backhouse in +conversation, watched them as only a deeply interested woman knows +how to watch. + +Lang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a +suspicious nature, the medium now requested that his own clothing +should be searched. + +"All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in +hand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation +demands, however, that other people who are not present would not be +able to say afterward that trickery has been resorted to." + +To Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and +sleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that +nothing mechanical was in Backhouse's possession. The guests +reseated themselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for +Mrs. Trent's friends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then +pressed an electric bell, and took his own seat. + +The signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur +of surprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, +the beautiful and solemn strains of Mozart's "temple" music pulsated +through the air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, +beneath her pallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent +was deeply moved. It was evident that aesthetically she was by far +the most important person present. Faull watched her, with his face +sunk on his chest, sprawling as usual. + +Backhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began +speaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so +for as long as he was on his legs. + +"Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. +That means you will see something appear in space that was not +previously there. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but +finally it will be a solid body, which anyone present may feel and +handle--and, for example, shake hands with. For this body will be +in the human shape. It will be a real man or woman--which, I can't +say--but a man or woman without known antecedents. If, however, you +demand from me an explanation of the origin of this materialised +form--where it comes from, whence the atoms and molecules composing +its tissues are derived--I am unable to satisfy you. I am about to +produce the phenomenon; if anyone can explain it to me afterward, I +shall be very grateful.... That is all I have to say." + +He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and +paused for a moment before beginning his task. + +It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door +and announced in a subdued but distinct voice: "Mr. Maskull, Mr. +Nightspore." + +Everyone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals. +Backhouse also stood up, and stared hard at them. + +The two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed +quietly behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild +sensation caused by their appearance to subside before advancing into +the room. Maskull was a kind of giant, but of broader and more +robust physique than most giants. He wore a full beard. His +features were thick and heavy, coarsely modelled, like those of a +wooden carving; but his eyes, small and black, sparkled with the +fires of intelligence and audacity. His hair was short, black, and +bristling. Nightspore was of middle height, but so tough-looking +that he appeared to be trained out of all human frailties and +susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed by an intense +spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both men were +dressed in tweeds. + +Before any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling +masonry caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in +consternation. It sounded as if the entire upper part of the +building had collapsed. Faull sprang to the door, and called to the +servant to say what was happening. The man had to be questioned +twice before he gathered what was required of him. He said he had +heard nothing. In obedience to his master's order, he went upstairs. +Nothing, however, was amiss there, neither had the maids heard +anything. + +In the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had +preserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood +gnawing his nails. + +"Perhaps you can explain it, sir?" + +"It was supernatural," said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled voice, +turning away from his questioner. + +"I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard +it so loud." + +He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they +settled down, but it was observable that their former easy and good- +humoured interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained +watchfulness. Maskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to +them. Mrs. Trent kept stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout +the entire incident, Mozart's hymn continued to be played. The +orchestra also had heard nothing. + +Backhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be +familiar to him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not +possible to effect the materialisation by mere concentration of will, +or the exercise of any faculty; otherwise many people could have done +what he had engaged himself to do. His nature was phenomenal--the +dividing wall between himself and the spiritual world was broken in +many places. Through the gaps in his mind the inhabitants of the +invisible, when he summoned them, passed for a moment timidly and +awfully into the solid, coloured universe.... He could not say how it +was brought about.... The experience was a rough one for the body, +and many such struggles would lead to insanity and early death. That +is why Backhouse was stern and abrupt in his manner. The coarse, +clumsy suspicion of some of the witnesses, the frivolous aestheticism +of others, were equally obnoxious to his grim, bursting heart; but he +was obliged to live, and, to pay his way, must put up with these +impertinences. + +He sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but +seemed to look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably +thinner. The spectators almost forgot to breathe. The more +sensitive among them began to feel, or imagine, strange presences all +around them. Maskull's eyes glittered with anticipation, and his +brows went up and down, but Nightspore appeared bored. + +After a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to +become slightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising +from the ground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling +hither and thither, and constantly changing shape. The professor +half rose, and held his glasses with one hand further forward on the +bridge of his nose. + +By slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate +outline of an adult human body, although all was still vague and +blurred. It hovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the +couch. Backhouse looked haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly +fainted in her chair, but she was unnoticed, and presently revived. +The apparition now settled down upon the couch, and at the moment of +doing so seemed suddenly to grow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of +the guests were as pale as the medium himself, but Faull preserved +his stoical apathy, and glanced once or twice at Mrs. Trent. She was +staring straight at the couch, and was twisting a little lace +handkerchief through the different fingers of her hand. The music +went on playing. + +The figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. +The face focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a +sort of shroud, but the features were those of a young man. One +smooth hand fell over, nearly touching the floor, white and +motionless. The weaker spirits of the company stared at the vision +in sick horror; the rest were grave and perplexed. The seeming man +was dead, but somehow it did not appear like a death succeeding life, +but like a death preliminary to life. All felt that he might sit up +at any minute. + +"Stop that music!" muttered Backhouse, tottering from his chair and +facing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars sounded, +and then total silence ensued. + +"Anyone who wants to may approach the couch," said Backhouse with +difficulty. + +Lang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural +youth. + +"You are at liberty to touch," said the medium. + +But Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by +one stole up to the couch--until it came to Faull's turn. He looked +straight at Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the +spectacle before her, and then not only touched the apparition but +suddenly grasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful +squeeze. Mrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened +his eyes, looked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A +cryptic smile started playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his +hand; a feeling of intense pleasure passed through his body. + +Maskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another +spell of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the +room. Neither of them returned. + +The phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his +peculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other +men more or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but +Nightspore paced up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while +Maskull attempted to interrogate the youth. The apparition watched +him with a baffling expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was +sitting apart, his face buried in his hands. + +It was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a +stranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the +room, and then stopped. None of Faull's friends had ever seen him +before. He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular +development and a head far too large in proportion to his body. His +beardless yellow face indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of +sagacity, brutality, and humour. + +"Aha-i, gentlemen!" he called out loudly. His voice was piercing, +and oddly disagreeable to the ear. "So we have a little visitor +here." + +Nightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder +in astonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought +him to the edge of the theatre. + +"May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?" +asked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding +as smoothly as he had anticipated. + +The newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great, +roaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully--but the +play was rather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the +wall before he could recover his balance. + +"Good evening, my host!" + +"And good evening to you too, my lad!" he went on, addressing the +supernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, +in apparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. "I have seen +someone very like you before, I think." + +There was no response. + +The intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom's face. "You +have no right here, as you know." + +The shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, +which, however, no one could understand. + +"Be careful what you are doing," said Backhouse quickly. + +"What's the matter, spirit usher?" + +"I don't know who you are, but if you use physical violence toward +that, as you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove very +unpleasant." + +"And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn't it, my +little mercenary friend?" + +Humour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, +leaving it hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, +he encircled the soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his +hairy hands and, with a double turn, twisted it completely round. A +faint, unearthly shriek sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the +floor. Its face was uppermost. The guests were unutterably shocked +to observe that its expression had changed from the mysterious but +fascinating smile to a vulgar, sordid, bestial grin, which cast a +cold shadow of moral nastiness into every heart. The transformation +was accompanied by a sickening stench of the graveyard. + +The features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, +passing from the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two +minutes had elapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared. + +The short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud +laugh, like nothing in nature. + +The professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull +beckoned Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check +without a word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, +and walked out of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a +drink. + +The stranger poked his face up into Maskull's. + +"Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn't you like to see +the land where this sort of fruit grows wild?" + +"What sort of fruit?" + +"That specimen goblin." + +Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. "Who are you, and how did +you come here?" + +"Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me." Nightspore had +moved a chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, +fanatical expression. + +"Let Krag come to me, if he wants me," he said, in his strange voice. + +"You see, he does know me," uttered Krag, with a humorous look. +Walking over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. + +"Still the same old gnawing hunger?" + +"What is doing these days?" demanded Nightspore disdainfully, without +altering his attitude. + +"Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him." + +"How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you +speaking?" asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in +perplexity. + +"Krag has something for us. Let us go outside," replied Nightspore. +He got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the +direction of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were +watching their little group attentively. + + + +Chapter 2 + +IN THE STREET + +The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night +was slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind +blowing. The multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear +like a vast scroll of hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly +excited; he had a sense that something extraordinary was about to +happen "What brought you to this house tonight, Krag, and what made +you do what you did? How are we understand that apparition?" + +"That must have been Crystalman's expression on face," muttered +Nightspore. + +"We have discussed that, haven't we, Maskull? Maskull is anxious to +behold that rare fruit in its native wilds." + +Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings +toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man's personality, yet +side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to +spring up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable +to Krag. + +"Why do you insist on this simile?" he asked. + +"Because it is apropos. Nightspore's quite right. That was +Crystalman's face, and we are going to Crystalman's country." + +"And where is this mysterious country?" + +"Tormance." + +"That's a quaint name. But where is it?" + +Krag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street +lamp. + +"It is the residential suburb of Arcturus." + +"What is he talking about, Nightspore? ... Do you mean the star of +that name?" he went on, to Krag. + +"Which you have in front of you at this very minute" said Krag, +pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the south- +eastern sky. "There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one +inhabited planet." + +Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaning star, and again at Krag. Then +he pulled out a pipe, and began to fill it. + +"You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag." + +"I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days." + +"I meant to ask you--how do you know my name?" + +"It would be odd if I didn't, seeing that I only came here on your +account. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends." + +Maskull paused with his suspended match. "You came here on my +account?" + +"Surely. On your account and Nightspore's. We three are to be +fellow travellers." + +Maskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments. + +"I'm sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad." + +Krag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. "Am I mad, +Nightspore?" + +"Has Surtur gone to Tormance?" ejaculated Nightspore in a strangled +voice, fixing his eyes on Krag's face. + +"Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once." + +Maskull's heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like +a dream conversation. + +"And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things by a +total stranger.... Besides, who is this individual?" + +"Krag's chief," said Nightspore, turning his head away. + +"The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up." + +"You are looking for mysteries," said Krag, "so naturally you are +finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. The affair is +plain and serious." + +Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. + +"Where have you come from now?" demanded Nightspore suddenly. + +"From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the +famous Starkness Observatory, Maskull?" + +"No. Where is it?" + +"On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made +there from time to time." + +"As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur +turns out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?" + +Krag grinned again. "How long will it take you to wind up your +affairs? When can you be ready to start?" + +"You are too considerate," said Maskull, laughing outright. "I was +beginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... However, I +have neither wife, land, nor profession, so there's nothing to wait +for.... What is the itinerary?" + +"You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no +encumbrances." Krag's features became suddenly grave and rigid. +"Don't be a fool, and refuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not +offered a second time." + +"Krag," replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his pocket. "I +ask you to put yourself in my place. Even if were a man sick for +adventures, how could I listen seriously to such an insane +proposition as this? What do I know about you, or your past record? +You may be a practical joker, or you may have come out of a madhouse-- +I know nothing about it. If you claim to be an exceptional man, +and want my cooperation, you must offer me exceptional proofs." + +"And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?" + +As he spoke he gripped Maskull's arm. A sharp, chilling pain +immediately passed through the latter's body and at the same moment +his brain caught fire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of +the sun. He asked himself for the first time if this fantastic +conversation could by any chance refer to real things. + +"Listen, Krag," he said slowly, while peculiar images and conceptions +started to travel in rich disorder through his mind. "You talk about +a certain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, and I +were given the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come +back. For twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give +my life. That is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me +that you're not talking nonsense. Produce your credentials." + +Krag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually +resuming its jesting expression. + +"Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but +not much longer. You're an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip +will prove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the +unbelievers of old, you want a sign from heaven?" + +Maskull frowned. "But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are +overexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep +it off." + +Krag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket +with the other. He presently fished out what resembled a small +folding lens. The diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches. + +"First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve +as a provisional sign. It's the best I can do, unfortunately. I am +not a travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It's +somewhat heavy." + +Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, +and then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at +least twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown +piece. + +"What stuff can this be, Krag?" + +"Look through it, my good friend. That's what I gave it to you for." + +Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming +Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as +the muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The +star, which to the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of +light, now became clearly split into two bright but minute suns, the +larger of which was still yellow, while its smaller companion was a +beautiful blue. But this was not all. Apparently circulating around +the yellow sun was a comparatively small and hardly distinguishable +satellite, which seemed to shine, not by its own, but by reflected +light.... Maskull lowered and raised his arm repeatedly. The same +spectacle revealed itself again and again, but he was able to see +nothing else. Then he passed back the lens to Krag, without a word, +and stood chewing his underlip. + +"You take a glimpse too," scraped Krag, proffering the glass to +Nightspore. + +Nightspore turned his back and began to pace up an down. Krag +laughed sardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. "Well, +Maskull, are you satisfied?" + +"Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet +Tormance?" + +"Our future home, Maskull." + +Maskull continued to ponder. "You inquire if I am satisfied. I don't +know, Krag. It's miraculous, and that's all I can say about it.... +But I'm satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful +astronomers at Starkness and if you invite me to your observatory I +will surely come." + +"I do invite you. We set off from there." + +"And you, Nightspore?" demanded Maskull. + +"The journey has to be made," answered his friend in indistinct +tones, "though I don't see what will come of it." + +Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. "More remarkable adventures +than this would need to be arranged before we could excite +Nightspore." + +"Yet he is coming." + +"But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company." + +Maskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary +might, in the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart +swelled with grand and painful longings, for which, however, he was +unable to account to his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was +in some way bound up with this gigantic, far-distant sun. But +still he did not dare to admit to himself Krag's seriousness. + +He heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the +lapse of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise +that they referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and +times of trains. + +"Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn't catch that." + +"No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of +the day after tomorrow." + +Maskull remained thoughtful. "What am I to think of that man?" + +"For your information," replied Nightspore wearily, "I have never +known him to lie." + + + +Chapter 3 + +STARKNESS + +A couple of days later, at two o'clock in the afternoon, Maskull and +Nightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven +miles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, +ran for the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty +cliffs, within sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk +east wind was blowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green +waves were flecked with white. Throughout the walk, they were +accompanied by the plaintive, beautiful crying of the gulls. + +The observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained +little community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end +of the land. There were three buildings: a small, stone-built +dwelling house, a low workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther +north, a square tower of granite masonry, seventy feet in height. + +The house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with +waste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side +facing the sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the +cliff. No one appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull +could have sworn that the whole establishment was shut up and +deserted. + +He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked +vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and +had obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the +door, but could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried +the handle; the door was looked. + +They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there +was only the one door. + +"This isn't promising," growled Maskull "There's no one here..... +Now you try the shed, while I go over to that tower." + +Nightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the +train, complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull +passed out of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the +tower, which stood some way back from the cliff, he found the door +heavily padlocked. Gazing up, he saw six windows, one above the +other at equal distances, all on the east face--that is, overlooking +the sea. Realising that no satisfaction was to be gained here, he +came away again, still more irritated than before. When he rejoined +his friend, Nightspore reported that the workshop was also locked. + +"Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?" demanded Maskull +energetically. + +"The house is empty," replied Nightspore, biting his nails. "Better +break a window." + +"I certainly don't mean to camp out till Krag condescends to come." + +He picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe +distance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The +lower pane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken +glass, Maskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back +the frame fastening. A minute later they had climbed through and +were standing inside the house. + +The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and +neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken +utensils and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, +everything was covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere +was so foul that Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the +room for several months. Insects were crawling on the walls. + +They went into the other rooms on the lower floor--a scullery, a +barely furnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The +same dirt, mustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a +year must have elapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even +entered. + +"Does your faith in Krag still hold?" asked Maskull. "I confess mine +is at vanishing point. If this affair isn't one big practical joke, +it has every promise of being one. Krag never lived here in his +life." + +"Come upstairs first," said Nightspore. + +The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. +All the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. +The beds had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never +been made since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually +preserved the impressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that +these impressions were ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had +accumulated on the sheets and coverlets. + +"Who could have slept here, do you think?" interrogated Maskull. +"The observatory staff?" + +"More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly." + +Maskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and +held his breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the +sea; the third, the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This +library was now the only room left unvisited, and unless they +discovered signs of recent occupation here Maskull made up his mind +to regard the whole business as a gigantic hoax. + +But the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air +and dust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell +heavily into an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend. + +"Now what is your opinion of Krag?" + +Nightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the +window. "He may still have left a message for us." + +"What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?--I see no message." + +Nightspore's eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger +upon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old +bottles on one of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at +him and at the cupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine +the bottles. + +There were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. +The smaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo- +shaped, but had flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand +upright. Two of the smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the +others contained a colourless liquid, and possessed queer-looking, +nozzle-like stoppers that were connected by a thin metal rod with a +catch halfway down the side of the bottle. They were labelled, but +the labels were yellow with age and the writing was nearly +undecipherable. Maskull carried the filled bottles with him to the +table in front of the window, in order to get better light. +Nightspore moved away to make room for him. + +He now made out on the larger bottle the words "Solar Back Rays"; and +on the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could +distinguish something like "Arcturian Back Rays." + +He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. "Have you been here +before, Nightspore?" + +"I guessed Krag would leave a message." + +"Well, I don't know--it may be a message, but it means nothing to +us, or at all events to me. What are 'back rays'?" + +"Light that goes back to its source," muttered Nightspore. + +"And what kind of light would that be?" + +Nightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull's eyes +still fixed on him, he brought out: "Unless light pulled, as well as +pushed, how would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after +the sun?" + +"I don't know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?" + +While he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the +other, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such +a manner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement +to stop it, his hand was actually descending, when--the bottle +suddenly disappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the +table, but had really vanished--it was nowhere at all. + +Maskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and +turned to Nightspore with a smile. "The message grows more +intricate." + +Nightspore looked bored. "The valve became unfastened. The contents +have escaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the +bottle with them. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth's +atmosphere, and the contents will dissipate, and will not reach the +sun." + +Maskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. "Does anything +prevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?" + +"Replace it in the cupboard," said Nightspore. "Arcturus is still +below the horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the house." + +Maskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at +the sunlit moors. + +"Krag treats me like a child," he remarked presently. "And perhaps I +really am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to Krag. +But why does he leave me to find out all this by myself--for I don't +include you, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?" + +"Not before dark, I expect," his friend replied. + + + +Chapter 4 + +THE VOICE + +It was by this time past three o'clock. Feeling hungry, for they had +eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage, +but without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a +safe in the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was +untouchable, a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and +an unopened can of ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room +cupboard he came across an uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch +whisky. He at once made preparations for a scratch meal. + +A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it, +and he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one +of the kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty +wood made a good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups +were procured and washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining +in the library. + +Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good +appetite. There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the +nearly black tea was mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of +this concoction Maskull drank cup after cup, and long after the +tongue had disappeared he was still imbibing. + +Nightspore looked at him queerly. "Do you intend to finish the +bottle before Krag comes?" + +"Krag won't want any, and one must do something. I feel restless." + +"Let us take a look at the country." + +The cup, which was on its way to Maskull's lips, remained poised in +the air. "Have you anything in view, Nightspore?" + +"Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie." + +"What's that?" + +"A showplace," answered Nightspore, biting his lip. + +Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. "Walking is +better than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like +this.... How far is it?" + +"Three or four miles each way." + +"You probably mean something," said Maskull, "for I'm beginning to +regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. +I am growing nervous, and need incidents." + +They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and +immediately found themselves again on the moorland road that had +brought them from Haillar. This time they continued along it, past +the tower. + +Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled +interest. "What is that tower, Nightspore?" + +"We sail from the platform on the top." + +"Tonight?"--throwing him a quick look. + +"Yes." + +Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. "Then we are looking at the +gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it." + +"You no longer think it impossible, I fancy," mumbled Nightspore. + +After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved +sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they +left it and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way +along the cliff edge for some distance, but at the end of another +mile it vanished. The two men then had some rough walking up and +down hillsides and across deep gullies. The sun disappeared behind +the hills, and twilight imperceptibly came on. They soon reached a +spot where further progress appeared impossible. The buttress of a +mountain descended at a steep angle to the very edge of the cliff, +forming an impassable slope of slippery grass. Maskull halted, +stroked his beard, and wondered what the next step was to be. + +"There's a little scrambling here," said Nightspore. "We are both +used to climbing, and there is not much in it." + +He indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice +a few yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from +fifteen to thirty inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull's +consent to the undertaking, he instantly swung himself down and +started walking along this ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing +that there was no help for it, followed him. The shelf did not +extend for above a quarter of a mile, but its passage was somewhat +unnerving; there was a sheer drop to the sea, four hundred feet +below. In a few places they had to sidle along without placing one +foot before another. The sound of the breakers came up to them in a +low, threatening roar. + +Upon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized +platform of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea +separated them from the continuation of the cliffs beyond. + +"As we can't get any further," said Maskull, "I presume this is your +Gap of Sorgie?" + +"Yes," answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and then +lying at full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders +over the edge and began to stare straight down at the water. + +"What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?" + +Receiving no reply, however, he followed his friend's example, and +the next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the +gloom had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he +was ineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a +drum on the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but +quite distinct. The beats were in four-four time, with the third +beat slightly accented. He now continued to hear the noise all the +time he was lying there. The beats were in no way drowned by the far +louder sound of the surf, but seemed somehow to belong to a different +world.... + +When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. "We +came here solely to hear that?" + +Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. "It's called locally +'The Drum Taps of Sorgie.' You will not hear that name again, but +perhaps you will hear the sound again." + +"And if I do, what will it imply?" demanded Maskull in amazement. + +"It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more +distinctly.... Now it's growing dark, and we must get back." + +Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. +It was past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore's words, and +not of the time. + +Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The +black sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way +above the sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were +passing the base of the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock +that the gate was open. He caught hold of Nightspore's arm +violently. "Look! Krag is back." + +"Yes, we must make haste to the house." + +"And why not the tower? He's probably in there, since the gate is +open. I'm going up to look." + +Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. + +All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and +the flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of +stone steps. "Are you coming up?" he asked. + +"No, I'll wait here." + +Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a +dozen steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain +breath. He seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but +three. As he proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far +from diminishing, grew worse and worse. It was nearly physically +impossible to go on; his lungs could not take in enough oxygen, while +his heart thumped like a ship's engine. Sweat coursed down his face. +At the twentieth step he completed the first revolution of the tower +and came face to face with the first window, which was set in a high +embrasure. + +Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and +climbed into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see +something from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the +window at the stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it +was not a window at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide +expanse of space containing a multitude of stars, but a blurred +darkness, focused only in one part, where two very bright stars, like +small moons in size, appeared in close conjunction; and near them a +more minute planetary object, as brilliant as Venus and with an +observable disk. One of the suns shone with a glaring white light; +the other was a weird and awful blue. Their light, though almost +solar in intensity, did not illuminate the interior of the tower. + +Maskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was +gazing was what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He +had seen the sight before, through Krag's glass, but then the scale +had been smaller, the colors of the twin suns had not appeared in +their naked reality.... These colors seemed to him most marvellous, +as if, in seeing them through earth eyes, he was not seeing them +correctly.... But it was at Tormance that he stared the longest and +the most earnestly. On that mysterious and terrible earth, countless +millions of miles distant, it had been promised him that he would set +foot, even though he might leave his bones there. The strange +creatures that he was to behold and touch were already living, at +this very moment. + +A low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard +away. "Don't you understand, Maskull, that you are only an +instrument, to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, +but when he wakes you must die. You will go, but he will return." + +Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one +was in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. + +The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he +redescended to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his +sensation of weight was instantly removed, but he continued panting +and palpitating, like a man who has lifted a far too heavy load. + +Nightspore's dark form came forward. "Was Krag there?" + +"If he was. I didn't see him. But I heard someone speak." + +"Was it Krag?" + +"It was not Krag--but a voice warned me against you." + +"Yes, you will hear these voices too," said Nightspore enigmatically. + + + +Chapter 5 + +THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE + +When they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and +the door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not +there. Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every +room--at the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the +man they were expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the +premises. Groping their way into the library, they sat down in the +total darkness to wait, for nothing else remained to be done. +Maskull lit his pipe, and began to drink the remainder of the whisky. +Through the open window sounded in their ears the trainlike grinding +of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. + +"Krag must be in the tower after all," remarked Maskull, breaking the +silence. + +"Yes, he is getting ready." + +"I hope he doesn't expect us to join him there. It was beyond my +powers--but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic pull +of some sort." + +"It is Tormantic gravity," muttered Nightspore. + +"I understand you--or, rather, I don't--but it doesn't matter." + +He went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the +neat liquor. "Who is Surtur?" he demanded abruptly. + +"We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master." + +Maskull digested this. "I fancy you are right, for though I know +nothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are +you personally acquainted with him?" + +"I must be... I forget..." replied Nightspore in a choking voice. + +Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the +blackness of the room. + +"Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of +them? ... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where +we are going?" + +"You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions--I can't +answer them." + +"Then let us go on waiting for Krag," said Maskull coldly. + +Ten minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep +was heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating +heart. + +Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a +feebly glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked +stern and forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a +moment or so, he strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the +table. Its light hardly served to illuminate the walls. + +"You have got here, then, Maskull?" + +"So it seems--but I shan't thank you for your hospitality, for it +has been conspicuous by its absence." + +Krag ignored the remark. "Are you ready to start?" + +"By all means--when you are. It is not so entertaining here." + +Krag surveyed him critically. "I heard you stumbling about in the +tower. You couldn't get up, it seems." + +"It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start +takes place from the top." + +"But your other doubts are all removed?" + +"So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing +to see what you can do." + +"Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that +until you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the +gravitation of Tormance?" + +"Then I repeat, it's an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can't get +up." + +Krag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp +knife. + +"Remove you coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve," he directed. + +"Do you propose to make an incision with that?" + +"Yes, and don't start difficulties, because the effect is certain, +but you can't possibly understand it beforehand." + +"Still, a cut with a pocket-knife--" began Maskull, laughing. + +"It will answer, Maskull," interrupted Nightspore. + +"Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe," said Krag. +"Let us see what your blood is made of." + +Nightspore obeyed. + +Krag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and +almost savage slash at Maskull's upper arm. The wound was deep, and +blood flowed freely. + +"Do I bind it up?" asked Maskull, scowling with pain. + +Krag spat on the wound. "Pull your shirt down, it won't bleed any +more." + +He then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation +with grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor. + +An awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through +Maskull's body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to +faint, but it subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing +but a gnawing ache in the injured arm, just strong enough to make +life one long discomfort. + +"That's finished," said Krag. "Now you can follow me." + +Picking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others +hastened after him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment +later their footsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, +resounded through the deserted house. Krag waited till they were +out, and then banged the front door after them with such violence +that the windows shook. + +While they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught +his arm. "I heard a voice up those stairs." + +"What did it say?" + +"That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return." + +Krag smiled. "The journey is getting notorious," he remarked, after +a pause. "There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you want to +return?" + +"I don't know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious +enough to be mentioned." + +"It is not a bad thing to hear voices," said Krag, "but you mustn't +for a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you out of the +night world." + +When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he +immediately set foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and +ran nimbly up, bearing the lantern. Maskull followed him with some +trepidation, in view of his previous painful experience on these +stairs, but when, after the first half-dozen steps, he discovered +that he was still breathing freely, his dread changed to relief and +astonishment, and he could have chattered like a girl. + +At the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stepping, but +Maskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his +acquaintance with the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. +The lens had lost its magic property. It had become a common sheet +of glass, through which the ordinary sky field appeared. + +The climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again +mounted and stared out, but still the common sights presented +themselves. After that, he gave up and looked through no more +windows. + +Krag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so +that he had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the +top, he saw yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened +door. His companions were standing just inside a small room, shut +off from the staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely +furnished and contained nothing of astronomical interest. The +lantern was resting on a table. + +Maskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. "Are we at +the top?" + +"Except for the platform over our heads," replied Krag. + +"Why didn't that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in the +evening?" + +"Oh, you missed your opportunity," said Krag, grinning. "If you had +finished your climb then, you would have seen heart-expanding +sights. From the fifth window, for example, you would have seen +Tormance like a continent in relief; from the sixth you would have +seen it like a landscape.... But now there's no need." + +"Why not--and what has need got to do with it?" + +"Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the +same reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there +was no necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route." + +"Very well," said Maskull, not quite understanding what he meant. +"But is this Surtur's den?" + +"He has spent time here." + +"I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may +not get another chance." + +"What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There's no +need to waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately +going on to the reality." + +"Then let us go." He pressed his eyeballs wearily. + +"Do we strip?" asked Nightspore. + +"Naturally," answered Krag, and he began to tear off his clothes with +slow, uncouth movements. + +"Why?" demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of the other +two men. + +Krag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like +an ape's. "Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may +sprout limbs--I don't say we shall." + +"A-ha!" exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his undressing. + +Krag smote him on the back. "New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. +You like that?" + +The three men stood as nature made them. Maskull's spirits rose +fast, as the moment of departure drew near. + +"A farewell drink to success!" cried Krag, seizing a bottle and +breaking its head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, +but he poured the amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups. + +Perceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It +was as if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag +dropped onto the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his +legs in the air. He tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a +little horseplay went on between the two. Nightspore took no part in +it, but walked to and fro, like a hungry caged animal. + +Suddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, +piercing wail, such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It +ceased abruptly, and was not repeated. + +"What's that?" called out Maskull, disengaging himself impatiently +from Krag. + +Krag rocked with laughter. "A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce +the bagpipes of its earth life--in honour of our departure." + +Nightspore turned to Krag. "Maskull will sleep throughout the +journey?" + +"And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you +passengers can amuse yourselves as you please." + +"Are we off at last?" asked Maskull. + +"Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a +Rubicon! ... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so +to arrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours." + +"Then you assert that Surtur is already there?" + +"Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller." + +"Won't I see him?" + +Krag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. "Don't forget that +you have asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will +know more about him than you do, but your memory will be your worst +friend." + +He led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the +flat roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric +torch. + +Maskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey +them through the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet +long, eight wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian +back rays was in front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was +directed toward the south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon +a flat platform, raised about four feet above the level of the roof, +so as to encounter no obstruction on starting its flight. + +Krag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them to +enter. Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the +gigantic, far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now +onward. He frowned, shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. +Krag clambered past them onto his pilot's seat. He threw the +flashlight through the open door, which was then carefully closed, +fastened, and screwed up. + +He pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its +platform, and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its +speed increased sensibly, though not excessively, until the +approximate limits of the earth's atmosphere were reached. Krag then +released the speed valve, and the car sped on its way with a velocity +more nearly approaching that of thought than of light. + +Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the +rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness +oppressed him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on +the thirteenth attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept +heavily. + +The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore's face. The +alterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least +interest for him. + +Krag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness +his phosphorescent charts and gauges. + + + +Chapter 6 + +JOIWIND + +IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A +wind was blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had +never experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as +he was unable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A +numbing pain, which he could not identify with any region of his +frame, acted from now onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his +other sensations. It gnawed away at him continuously; sometimes it +embittered and irritated him, at other times he forgot it. + +He felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he +discovered there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, +having a cavity in the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. +Then he also became aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, +an inch below the ear. + +From the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long +as his arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible. + +As soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new +organs, his heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be +their use, they proved one thing that he was in a new world. + +One part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull +cried out to his companions, but received no response. This +frightened him. He went on shouting out, at irregular intervals-- +equally alarmed at the silence and at the sound of his own voice. +Finally, as no answering hail came, he thought it wiser not to make +too much noise, and after that he lay quiet, waiting in cold blood +for what might happen. + +In a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were +not his friends. + +A pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black +night, while in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one +would have said that day was breaking. The brightness went on +imperceptibly increasing for a very long time. + +Maskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the +sand was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with +black stems and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible. + +The day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before +long the brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the +midday sun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull +welcomed it--it relieved his pain and diminished his sense of +crushing weight. The wind had dropped with the rising of the sun. + +He now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. +He was unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially +dissolved, and all that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of +red sand dotted with ten or twenty bushes. + +He felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started +forward in nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the +sand. Looking up over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see +a woman standing beside him. + +She was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather +classically draped. According to earth standards she was not +beautiful, for, although her face was otherwise human, she was +endowed--or afflicted--with the additional disfiguring organs that +Maskull had discovered in himself. She also possessed the heart +tentacle. But when he sat up, and their eyes met and remained in +sympathetic contact, he seemed to see right into a soul that was the +home of love, warmth, kindness, tenderness, and intimacy. Such was +the noble familiarity of that gaze, that he thought he knew her. +After that, he recognised all the loveliness of her person. She was +tall and slight. All her movements were as graceful as music. Her +skin was not of a dead, opaque colour, like that of an earth beauty, +but was opalescent; its hue was continually changing, with every +thought and emotion, but none of these tints was vivid--all were +delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very long, loosely +plaited, flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull had +familiarised himself with them, imparted something to her face that +was unique and striking. He could not quite define it to himself, +but subtlety and inwardness seemed added. The organs did not +contradict the love of her eyes or the angelic purity of her +features, but nevertheless sounded a deeper note--a note that saved +her from mere girlishness. + +Her gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely +any humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She +realised his plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had +been carrying over her arm. It was similar to the one she was +wearing, but of a darker, more masculine colour. + +"Do you think you can put it on by yourself?" + +He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not +sounded. + +He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the +complications of the drapery. + +"Poor man--how you are suffering!" she said, in the same inaudible +language. This time he discovered that the sense of what she said +was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead. + +"Where am I? Is this Tormance?" he asked. As he spoke, he staggered. + +She caught him, and helped him to sit down. "Yes. You are with +friends." + +Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in +English. Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so +fresh, nervous, and girlish. "I can now understand your language. +It was strange at first. In the future I'll speak to you with my +mouth." + +"This is extraordinary! What is this organ?" he asked, touching his +forehead. + +"It is named the 'breve.' By means of it we read one another's +thoughts. Still, speech is better, for then the heart can be read +too." + +He smiled. "They say that speech is given us to deceive others." + +"One can deceive with thought, too. But I'm thinking of the best, +not the worst." + +"Have you seen my friends?" + +She scrutinised him quietly, before answering. "Did you not come +alone?" + +"I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost +consciousness on arrival, and I haven't seen them since." + +"That's very strange! No, I haven't seen them. They can't be here, +or we would have known it. My husband and I--" + +"What is your name, and your husband's name?" + +"Mine is Joiwind--my husband's is Panawe. We live a very long way +from here; still, it came to us both last night that you were lying +here insensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come +to you, but in the end I won." Here she laughed. "I won, because I +am the stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in perception." + +"Thanks, Joiwind!" said Maskull simply. + +The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. "Oh, why do +you say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I +rejoiced at the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood." + +"What is this?" he demanded, rather puzzled. + +"It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world. +Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up." + +Maskull flushed. "I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won't it +hurt you?" + +"If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will +share the pain." + +"This is a new kind of hospitality to me," he muttered. + +"Wouldn't you do the same for me?" asked Joiwind, half smiling, +half agitated. + +"I can't answer for any of my actions in this world. I scarcely know +where I am.... Why, yes--of course I would, Joiwind." + +While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled +away from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog- +charged. The desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, +except one, where there was a sort of little oasis--some low hills, +clothed sparsely with little purple trees from base to summit. It +was about a quarter of a mile distant. + +Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace +of nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. +Maskull expostulated. + +"Really, this part of it is nothing," she said, laughing. "And if it +were--a sacrifice that is no sacrifice--what merit is there in +that? ... Come now--your arm!" + +The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a +milky, opalescent fluid. + +"Not that one!" said Maskull, shrinking. "I have already been cut +there." He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth. + +Joiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds +together, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull's for +a long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through +the incision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. +After about five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he +wanted to remove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his +way, but it was none too soon--she stood there pale and dispirited. + +She looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if +strange depths had opened up before her eyes. + +"What is your name?" + +"Maskull." + +"Where have you come from, with this awful blood?" + +"From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for +this world, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I +am sorry I let you have your way." + +"Oh, don't say that! There was nothing else to be done. We must all +help one another. Yet, somehow--forgive me--I feel polluted." + +"And well you may, for it's a fearful thing for a girl to accept in +her own veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. If I +had not been so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it." + +"But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? +Why did you come here, Maskull?" + +He was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. "Will you +think it foolish if I say I hardly know?--I came with those two men. +Perhaps I was attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of +adventure." + +"Perhaps," said Joiwind. "I wonder... These friends of yours must +be terrible men. Why did they come?" + +"That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur." + +Her face grew troubled. "I don't understand it. One of them at +least must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur--or +Shaping, as he is called here--he can't be really bad." + +"What do you know of Surtur?" asked Maskull in astonishment. + +Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain +moved restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. "I +see.... and yet I don't see," she said at last. "It is very +difficult.... Your God is a dreadful Being--bodyless, unfriendly, +invisible. Here we don't worship a God like that. Tell me, has any +man set eyes on your God?" + +"What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?" + +"I want to know." + +"In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy men +are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are +past." + +"Our world is still young," said Joiwind. "Shaping goes among us and +converses with us. He is real and active--a friend and lover. +Shaping made us, and he loves his work." + +"Have you met him?" demanded Maskull, hardly believing his ears. + +"No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an +opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by +meeting and talking with Shaping." + +"I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is +the same as Surtur?" + +"Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, +but a few name him Surtur." + +Maskull bit his nail. "Have you ever heard of Crystalman?" + +"That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names--which +shows how much he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of +affection." + +"It's odd," said Maskull. "I came here with quite different ideas +about Crystalman." + +Joiwind shook her hair. "In that grove of trees over there stands a +desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we'll go on +our way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It's a long way off, and +we must get there before Blodsombre." + +"Now, what is Blodsombre?" + +"For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell's rays are +so hot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre." + +"Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?" + +Joiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. "Naturally we don't +take our names from you, Maskull. I don't think our names are very +poetic, but they follow nature." + +She took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the +tree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the +upper mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from +a furnace, struck Maskull's head. He involuntarily looked up, but +lowered his eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that +instant was a glaring ball of electric white, three times the +apparent diameter of the sun. For a few minutes he was quite blind. + +"My God!" he exclaimed. "If it's like this in early morning you must +be right enough about Blodsombre." When he had somewhat recovered +himself he asked, "How long are the days here, Joiwind?" + +Again he felt his brain being probed. + +"At this time of the year, for every hour's daylight that you have in +summer, we have two." + +"The heat is terrific--and yet somehow I don't feel so distressed by +it as I would have expected." + +"I feel it more than usual. It's not difficult to account for it; +you have some of my blood, and I have some of yours." + +"Yes, every time I realise that, I--Tell me, Joiwind, will my blood +alter, if I stay here long enough?--I mean, will it lose its redness +and thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like +yours?" + +"Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us." + +"Do you mean food and drink?" + +"We eat no food, and drink only water." + +"And on that you manage to sustain life?" + +"Well, Maskull, our water is good water," replied Joiwind, smiling. + +As soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The +enormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting +where it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep +blue, almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger +than on earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in +which they were walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently +about forty miles distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was +shaped like a cup. Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he +was travelling in dreamland, but for the intensity of the light, +which made everything vividly real. + +Joiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. "That's Poolingdred." + +"You didn't come from there!" he exclaimed, quite startled. + +"Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now." + +"With the single object of finding me?" + +"Why, yes." + +The colour mounted to his face. "Then you are the bravest and +noblest of all girls," he said quietly, after a pause. "Without +exception. Why, this is a journey for an athlete!" + +She pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues +stained her cheeks in rapid transition. "Please don't say any more +about it, Maskull. It makes me feel unpleasant." + +"Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?" + +"Oh, yes. And you mustn't be frightened at the distance. We think +nothing of long distances here--we have so much to think about and +feel. Time goes all too quickly." + +During their conversation they had drawn neat the base of the hills, +which sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. +Maskull now began to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What +looked like a small patch of purple grass, above five feet square, +was moving across the sand in their direction. When it came near +enough he perceived that it was not grass; there were no blades, but +only purple roots. The roots were revolving, for each small plant in +the whole patch, like the spokes of a rimless wheel. They were +alternately plunged in the sand, and withdrawn from it, and by this +means the plant proceeded forward. Some uncanny, semi-intelligent +instinct was keeping all the plants together, moving at one pace, in +one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in flight. + +Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a +dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. +Joiwind caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, +and showed it to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the +air and fed on the chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what +was peculiar about it was its colour. It was an entirely new colour-- +not a new shade or combination, but a new primary colour, as vivid +as blue, red, or yellow, but quite different. When he inquired, she +told him that it was known as "ulfire." Presently he met with a +second new colour. This she designated "jale." The sense impressions +caused in Maskull by these two additional primary colors can only be +vaguely hinted at by analogy. Just as blue is delicate and +mysterious, yellow clear and unsubtle, and red sanguine and +passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild and painful, and jale +dreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous. + +The hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird +shapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, +covered the slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and +through. Some hard fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a +large apple, and shaped like an egg, was lying in profusion +underneath the trees. + +"Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don't you eat it?" asked +Maskull. + +She looked at him tranquilly. "We don't eat living things. The +thought is horrible to us." + +"I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you +really sustain your bodies on water?" + +"Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull--would +you eat other men?" + +"I would not." + +"Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow +creatures. So nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really +live on anything, water does very well." + +Maskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he +did so another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. +He found that the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel +fashion acquainting him with the inward properties of the fruit. He +could not only see, feel, and smell it, but could detect its +intrinsic nature. This nature was hard, persistent and melancholy. + +Joiwind answered the questions he had not asked. + +"Those organs are called 'poigns.' Their use is to enable us to +understand and sympathise with all living creatures." + +"What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?" + +"The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull." + +He threw the fruit away and flushed again. + +Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment +and slowly smiled. "Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? +Do you know why you think so? It's because you are still impure. By +and by you will listen to all language without shame." + +Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle +round his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its +cool pressure. The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so +moist and sensitive that it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw +who it was that embraced him--a pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly +enough, he experienced neither voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The +love expressed by the caress was rich, glowing, and personal, but +there was not the least trace of sex in it--and so he received it. + +She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and +penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul. + +"Yes, I wish to be pure," he muttered. "Without that what can I ever +be but a weak, squirming devil?" + +Joiwind released him. "This we call the 'magn,'" she said, +indicating her tentacle. "By means of it what we love already we +love more, and what we don't love at all we begin to love." + +"A godlike organ!" + +"It is the one we guard most jealously," said Joiwind. + +The shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost +insufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward +to the zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, +Maskull looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but +without result. After staring about him for a few minutes he +shrugged his shoulders; but suspicions had already begun to gather in +his mind. + +A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled +by the tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very +middle shot up a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, +and transparent, crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a +natural, circular well, containing dark green water. + +When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to +the well. + +Maskull gazed at it intently. "Is this the shrine you talked about?" + +"Yes. It is called Shaping's Well. The man or woman who wishes to +invoke Shaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it." + +"Pray for me," said Maskull. "Your unspotted prayer will carry more +weight." + +"What do you wish for?" + +"For purity," answered Maskull, in a troubled voice. + +Joiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She +held it up to Maskull's mouth. "You must drink too." He obeyed. She +then stood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the soft +murmurings of spring, prayed aloud. + +"Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has +come to us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let +him know the meaning of love, let him live for others. Don't spare +him pain, dear Shaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into +him a noble soul." + +Maskull listened with tears in his heart. + +As Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and, +half buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of +dazzlingly white pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro +between distinctness and indistinctness, like an object being +focused. Then they faded out of sight again. + +"Is that a sign from Shaping?" asked Maskull, in a low, awed tone. + +"Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage." + +"What can that be, Joiwind?" + +"You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do +so, because it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, +wise men will do hereafter in full knowledge." + +"It is right for man to pray," said Maskull. "Good and evil in the +world don't originate from nothing. God and Devil must exist. And +we should pray to the one, and fight the other." + +"Yes, we must fight Krag." + +"What name did you say?" asked Maskull in amazement. + +"Krag--the author of evil and misery--whom you call Devil." + +He immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from +learning his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. + +"Why do you hide your mind from me?" she demanded, looking at him +strangely and changing colour. + +"In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can +scarcely grasp its meaning." But he lied. + +Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. +"The world is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my +husband, has travelled, and he has told me things I would almost +rather have not heard. One person he met believed the universe to +be, from top to bottom, a conjurer's cave." + +"I should like to meet your husband." + +"Well, we are going home now." + +Maskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, +but was afraid of offending her, and checked himself. + +She read the mental question. "What need is there? Is not the whole +world full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish +possessions?" + +An extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five +distinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body, +paddled by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees. + +Joiwind pointed to it, as it went by. "I love that beast, grotesque +as it is--perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had +children of my own, would I still love it? Which is best--to love +two or three, or to love all?" + +"Every woman can't be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to have a few +like you. Wouldn't it be as well," he went on, "since we've got to +walk through that sun-baked wilderness, to make turbans for our +heads out of some of those long leaves?" + +She smiled rather pathetically. "You will think me foolish, but +every tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have +only to throw our robes over our heads." + +"No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me--weren't +these very robes once part of a living creature?" + +"Oh, no--no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they have +never been in themselves alive." + +"You reduce life to extreme simplicity," remarked Maskull +meditatively, "but it is very beautiful." + +Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began +their march across the desert. + +They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight +toward Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged +their way to lie due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very +tiring to his naked feet. The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him +semi-blind. He was hot, parched, and tormented with the craving to +drink; his undertone of pain emerged into full consciousness. + +"I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer." + +"Yes, it is queer--if it is accidental," said Joiwind, with a +peculiar intonation. + +"Exactly!" agreed Maskull. "If they had met with a mishap, their +bodies would still be there. It begins to look like a piece of bad +work to me. They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am here, +and I must make the best of it, I will trouble no more about them." + +"I don't wish to speak ill of anyone," said Joiwind, "but my instinct +tells me that you are better away from those men. They did not come +here for your sake, but for their own." + +They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint. +She twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current +of confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. + +"Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?" + +"Yes," she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. "But not much-- +and it gives me great happiness." + +Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new- +born lamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to +the front, and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a +series of complete rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it +had been dipped into pots of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked +up with small, shining eyes, as they passed. + +Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. "That's a personal friend of mine, +Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It's always waltzing, +and always in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere." + +"It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is +no need for anyone to get anywhere. What I don't quite understand is +how you manage to pass your days without ennui." + +"That's a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for +excitement?" + +"Something of the kind," said Maskull. + +"That must be a disease brought on by rich food." + +"But are you never dull?" + +"How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh +is clean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you +will understand what sort of question you have asked." + +Farther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of +the desert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, +with a cool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a +fountain in this respect--that the water of which it was composed +did not return to the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at +the summit. It was in fact a tall, graceful column of dark green +fluid, with a capital of coiling and twisting vapours. + +When they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was +the continuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down +from the direction of the mountains. The explanation of the +phenomenon was evidently that the water at this spot found chemical +affinities in the upper air, and consequently forsook the ground. + +"Now let us drink," said Joiwind. + +She threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face +downward, by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in +following her example. She refused to quench her thirst until she +had seen him drink. He found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. +He drank copiously. It affected his palate in a new way--with the +purity and cleanness of water was combined the exhilaration of a +sparkling wine, raising his spirits--but somehow the intoxication +brought out his better nature, and not his lower. + +"We call it 'gnawl water'," said Joiwind. "This is not quite pure, as +you can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is crystal clear. But +we would be ungrateful if we complained. After this you'll find +we'll get along much better." + +Maskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the +first time. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and +wonders that he had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring +scarlet of the sands became separated into a score of clearly +distinguished shades of red. The sky was similarly split up into +different blues. The radiant heat of Branchspell he found to affect +every part of his body with unequal intensities. His ears awakened; +the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the sands hummed, even the sun's +rays had a sound of their own--a kind of faint Aeolian harp. +Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his nostrils. His palate lingered +over the memory of the gnawl water. All the pores of his skin were +tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived currents of air. His +poigns explored actively the inward nature of everything in his +immediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew from her +person a stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve he +exchanged thoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony +stirred him to the depths, and throughout the walk of that endless +morning he felt no more fatigue. + +When it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy +margin of a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred. + +Panawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them. + + + +Chapter 7 + +PANAWE + +The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed +in white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, +on face and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it +scarcely looked skin at all--it rather resembled a new kind of pure, +snowy flesh, extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in +common with the artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised +woman. Its whiteness and delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it +was obviously the manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity +of nature. His hair, which fell to the nape of his neck, also was +white; but again, from vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet +and fathomless. He was still a young man, but so stern were his +features that he had the appearance of a lawgiver, and this in spite +of their great beauty and harmony. + +His magn and Joiwind's intertwined for a single moment and Maskull +saw his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put +him in her husband's arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing +and smiling. Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a +man, but submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed +through him in the act. + +"The stranger is red-blooded, then?" + +He was startled by Panawe's speaking in English, and the voice too +was extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity +seemed in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a +rapidity of thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could +not be detected. How this could be, he did not know. + +"How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?" +demanded Maskull. + +"Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can't say if I am really +speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating +my thoughts into your tongue as I utter them." + +"Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am," said Joiwind gaily. + +"What is your name?" asked the husband. + +"Maskull." + +"That name must have a meaning--but again, thought is a strange +thing. I connect that name with something--but with what?" + +"Try to discover," said Joiwind. + +"Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the +Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?" + +"There is such a myth, The hero's name was Prometheus." + +"Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action--but +what it all means I can't say, Maskull." + +"Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks +thoughtlessly." + +"There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me," said +Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative. + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth." + +"What for?" + +"I was tired of vulgarity," returned Maskull laconically. He +intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that +Krag's name should not come to light. + +"That's an honourable motive," said Panawe. "And what's more, it may +be true, though you spoke it as a prevarication." + +"As far as it goes, it's quite true," said Maskull, staring at him +with annoyance and surprise. + +The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were +standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple +reeds showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The +water was dark green. Maskull did not see how they were going to +cross it. + +Joiwind caught his arm. "Perhaps you don't know that the lake will +bear us?" + +Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his +weight. Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip +about--nevertheless the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, +by watching and imitating Panawe, that he was soon able to balance +himself without assistance. After that he found the sport excellent. + +For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind's half falls +and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either +of the men. Her slight, draped form--dipping, bending, rising, +swaying, twisting, upon the surface of the dark water--this was a +picture Maskull could not keep his eyes away from. + +The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The +crags, gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be +distinguished in detail. A waterfall was visible, descending several +hundred feet. The surface of the lake grew disturbed--so much so +that Maskull had difficulty in keeping his balance. He therefore +threw himself down and started swimming on the face of the water. +Joiwind turned her head, and laughed so joyously that all her teeth +flashed in the sunlight. + +They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The +water on Maskull's garment and body evaporated very quickly. He +gazed upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some +strange movements on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His +face was working convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then +he put his hand to his mouth and took from it what looked like a +bright-coloured pebble. He looked at it carefully for some +seconds. Joiwind also looked, over his shoulder, with quickly +changing colors. After this inspection, Panawe let the object-- +whatever it was--fall to the ground, and took no more interest in +it. + +"May I look?" asked Maskull; and, without waiting for permission, he +picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped crystal of +pale green. + +"Where did this come from?" he asked queerly. + +Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. "It came out of my +husband." + +"That's what I thought, but I couldn't believe it. But what is it?" + +"I don't know that it has either name or use. It is merely an +overflowing of beauty." + +"Beauty?" + +Joiwind smiled. "If you were to regard nature as the husband, and +Panawe as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained." + +Maskull reflected. + +"On Earth," he said after a minute, "men like Panawe are called +artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and +out of them again. The only distinction is that their productions +are more human and intelligible." + +"Nothing comes from it but vanity," said Panawe, and, taking the +crystal out of Maskull's hand, he threw it into the lake. + +The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in +height. Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She +was evidently tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still +the nimbler of the two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe +seemed lost in quiet thoughts. The rock was sound, and did not +crumble under their weight. The heat of Branchspell, however, was by +this time almost killing, the radiance was shocking in its white +intensity, and Maskull's pain steadily grew worse. + +When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of +vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could +see. It was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from +the edge of the cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills +inland. The hills varied in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred +was approximately a thousand feet above them. The upper part of it +was covered with a kind of glittering vegetation which he could not +comprehend. + +Joiwind put her hand on Maskull's shoulder, and pointed upward. +"Here you have the highest peak in the whole land--that is, until +you come to the Ifdawn Marest." + +On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary +unaccountable sensation of wild vigour and restlessness--but it +passed away. + +Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The +lower half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, +however, it grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small +trees. The growth became thicker as they continued to ascend, and +when they neared the summit, tall forest trees appeared. + +These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the +small twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast +no shadows from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and +branches were fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, +however, was the fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two +plants belonged to the same species. + +"Won't you help Maskull out of his difficulty?" said Joiwind, pulling +her husband's arm. + +He smiled. "If he'll forgive me for again trespassing in his brain. +But the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is +necessarily energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. +Nature is still fluid--not yet rigid--and matter is plastic. The +will forks and sports incessantly, and thus no two creatures are +alike." + +"Well, I understand all that," replied Maskull, after listening +attentively. "But what I don't grasp is this--if living creatures +here sport so energetically, how does it come about that human beings +wear much the same shape as in my world?" + +"I'll explain that too," said Panawe. "All creatures that resemble +Shaping must of necessity resemble one another." + +"Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?" + +"Exactly." + +"It is most wonderful," said Maskull. "Then the brotherhood of man +is not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact." + +Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into +sternness. + +Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured +blossoms of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his +breve he could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, "To me +To me!" While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air +to one of these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral +cry immediately ceased. + +They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A +lake occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly +intercepted the view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this +mountain lake was nearly circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile +across. Its shore stood a hundred feet below them. + +Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them +to wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got +there, he found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless +transparency. He walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered +into the depths. It was weirdly clear: he could see down for an +indefinite distance, without arriving at any bottom. Some dark, +shadowy objects, almost out of reach of his eyes, were moving about. +Then a sound, very faint and mysterious, seemed to come up through +the gnawl water from an immense depth. It was like the rhythm of a +drum. There were four beats of equal length, but the accent was on +the third. It went on for a considerable time, and then ceased. + +The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that +in which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and +unbelievable--the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. +It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only +occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. + +He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his +experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed +down on the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had +overlooked the desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland +plain, whose dimensions could not be measured by the eye. It was +solid land, yet he could not make out its prevailing colour. It was +as if made of transparent glass, but it did not glitter in the +sunlight. No objects in it could be distinguished, except a rolling +river in the far distance, and, farther off still, on the horizon, a +line of dark mountains, of strange shapes. Instead of being rounded, +conical, or hogbacked, these heights were carved by nature into the +semblance of castle battlements, but with extremely deep +indentations. + +The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. +It contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of +the heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact +like the afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset. + +Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and +noble became his feelings. + +"What is that light?" + +Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. "It +is Alppain--our second sun," he replied. "Those hills are the +Ifdawn Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter." + +"Is it imagination, or am I really being affected--tormented by that +light?" + +"No, it's not imagination--it's real. How can it be otherwise when +two suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same time? +Luckily you are not looking at Alppain itself. It's invisible here. +You would need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it." + +"Why do you say 'luckily'?" + +"Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be +more than you could bear.... But I don't know." + +For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very +thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his +eye chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The +silence and stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, +mysterious, and waiting. Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, +and without further delay led the way down a little track, which +traversed the side of the mountain and terminated in the mouth of a +cave. + +This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. +The host took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, +carelessly sprinkled the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, +phosphorescent light gradually spread to the furthest limits of the +cavern, and continued to illuminate it for the whole time they were +there. There was no furniture. Some dried, fernlike leaves served +for couches. + +The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband +tended her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her +lips, energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to +sleep. At the sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his +account, Maskull was distressed. + +Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. "It's quite true this +has been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will +lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of +sacrifice." + +"I can't conceive how I have walked so far in a morning," said +Maskull, "and she has been twice the distance." + +"Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that's why she is so +strong." + +"You know she gave me some of it?" + +"Otherwise you couldn't even have started." + +"I shall never forget that." + +The languorous beat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the +cavern, the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, +invited Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his +lassitude. + +"Will it disturb her if we talk?" + +"No." + +"But how do you feel?" + +"I require little sleep. In any case, it's more important that you +should hear something about your new life. It's not all as innocent +and idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be +instructed about the dangers." + +"Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange--shall I put +questions, or will you tell me what you think is most essential?" + +Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the +same time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched +legs. + +"I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from +them what sort of place you have come to." + +"I shall be grateful," said Maskull, preparing himself to listen. + +Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in +tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones. + +PANAWE'S STORY + +"My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old +(that's equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more +slowly here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest +man in Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked +through trees for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew +taller as we went along, until the tops were out of sight. The +trunks were of a dark red colour and the leaves were of pale ulfire. +My father kept stopping to think. If left uninterrupted, he would +remain for half a day in deep abstraction. My mother came out of +Poolingdred, and was of a different stamp. She was beautiful, +generous, and charming--but also active. She kept urging him on. +This led to many disputes between them, which made me miserable. On +the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest which bordered +on the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water that will +not bear a man's weight, and as these light parts don't differ in +appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father +pointed out a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was +Swaylone's Island. Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In +the evening of the same day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, +miry pit in the forest, surrounded on all sides by trees three +hundred feet high. He was a big gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy +old man. His age at that time was a hundred and twenty of our years, +or nearly six hundred of yours. His body was trilateral: he had +three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed at equal distances all +around his head. This gave him an aspect of great watchfulness and +sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I afterward heard +this saying of his: 'To lie is to sleep, to sit is to dream, to stand +is to think.' My father caught the infection, and fell into +meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol +scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too +learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a +prodigy--that is to say, I was without sex. My parents were +troubled over this, and wished to consult the wisest of men. + +"Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, 'This perhaps will not be +so difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among +us is a walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and +killed the female who was born in the same body with him--if a +female, she has killed the male. But in this child the struggle is +still continuing.' + +"'How shall we end it?' asked my mother. + +"'Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, and it +will be of whichever sex it pleases.' + +"'You want, of course, to be a man, don't you?' said my mother to me +earnestly. + +"'Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a crime.' + +"Something in my tone attracted Broodviol's notice. + +"'That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore the +male must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before +you arrive home, the child will be a boy.' + +"My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before +Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time +looking kindly at her. + +"I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a few +hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died. + +"His prophecy came true--before we reached home, I knew the meaning +of shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later +years, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to +the conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see +quite straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, +enclosed in one body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive +reverence for life withheld both of us from fighting for existence. +Hers was the stronger temperament, and she sacrificed herself-- +though not consciously--for me. + +"As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or destroy +anything that contained life--and I have kept it ever since. + +"While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother's +death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. +I therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother's country, +where, as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary. + +"One hot morning I came to Shaping's Causeway. It is so called +either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous +character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which +links the mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. +The valley lies below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand +feet--a terrible precipice on either side. The knife edge of the +ridge is generally not much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due +north and south. The valley on my right hand was plunged in shadow-- +that on my left was sparkling with sunlight and dew. I walked +fearfully along this precarious path for some miles. Far to the east +the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, connecting the two chains +of mountains, but overtopping even the most towering pinnacles. This +is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but I have heard two +curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is that they +have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to +travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples +with whom they reside. + +"Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, +clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at +the ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I +felt like a different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway +across I saw someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear +into my heart again, for I did not see how we could very well pass. +However, I went slowly on, and presently we drew near enough together +for me to recognise the walker. It was Slofork, the so-called +sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I knew him by his +peculiarities of person. He was of a bright gamboge colour and +possessed a very long, proboscis-like nose, which appeared to be a +useful organ, but did not add to his beauty, as I knew beauty. He +was dubbed 'sorcerer' from his wondrous skill in budding limbs and +organs. The tale is told that one evening he slowly sawed his leg +off with a blunt stone and then lay for two days in agony while his +new leg was sprouting. He was not reputed to be a consistently wise +man, but he had periodical flashes of penetration and audacity that +none could equal. + +"We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart. + +"'Which of us walks over the other?' asked Slofork. His manner was +as calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible with +hidden terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this +humiliation. We continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many +minutes. + +"'What is greater than Pleasure?' he asked suddenly. + +"I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any +emergency, so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the +conversation, as if it were for that purpose we had met. + +"'Pain,' I replied, 'for pain drives out pleasure.' + +"'What is greater than Pain?' + +"I reflected. 'Love. Because we will accept our loved one's share +of pain.' + +"'But what is greater than Love?' he persisted. + +"'Nothing, Slofork.' + +"'And what is Nothing?' + +"'That you must tell me.' + +"'Tell you I will. This is Shaping's world. He that is a good child +here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But +there's another world--not Shaping's and there all this is unknown, +and another order of things reigns. That world we call Nothing--but +it is not Nothing, but Something.' + +"There was a pause. + +"'I have heard,' said I, 'that you are good at growing and ungrowing +organs?' + +"'That's not enough for me. Every organ tells me the same story. I +want to hear different stories.' + +"'Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in +pulses?' + +"'Quite true,' replied Slofork. 'But those you had it from did not +add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.' + +"'My experience is,' said I sententiously, 'that wisdom is misery.' + +"'Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and +never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful +face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your +own way.' + +"Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the +path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing +momentum toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on +the ground, and shut my eyes. + +"Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks +it was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit +suicide. Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid +law never to speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others. + +"I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for +four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the +possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was +nearly through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled +across the third extraordinary personage of my experience--the grim +Muremaker. It was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, +cloudy and stormy, I saw, suspended in the air without visible +support, a living man. He was hanging in an upright position in +front of a cliff--a yawning gulf, a thousand feet deep, lay beneath +his feet. I climbed as near as I could, and looked on. He saw me, +and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to turn his humiliation +into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I could not even +grasp what had happened. + +"'I am Muremaker,' he cried in a scraping voice which shocked my +ears. 'All my life I have sorbed others--now I am sorbed. Nuclamp +and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. +While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but +when he gets tired--and it can't be long now--I drop into those +depths.' + +"Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this +ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his +whole existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for +the sake of his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again +that day. + +"In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a +month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to +part." + +Panawe stopped speaking. + +"That is a fascinating story," remarked Maskull. "Now I begin to +know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me." + +"What's that?" + +"How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and +have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits +and wise in their thoughts." + +"Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I +see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to +make up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the +assistance of stones and metals. That's by no means a sign of +superiority." + +"No, I suppose not," said Maskull, "but I see I have a great deal to +unlearn." + +They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. +Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again. + + + +Chapter 8 + +THE LUSION PLAIN + +Maskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and +walked out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He +climbed to the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. +The afterglow of Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The +mountains stood up wild and grand. + +They impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which +are widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and +adventure seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment +that the determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest +and explore its dangers. + +He returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts. + +Joiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. "Is this +selfishness, Maskull?" she asked, "or are you drawn by something +stronger than yourself?" + +"We must be reasonable," he answered, smiling. "I can't settle down +in Poolingdred before I have found out something about this +surprising new planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have +come.... But very likely I shall come back here." + +"Will you make me a promise?" + +Maskull hesitated. "Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my +powers yet." + +"It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this--never to raise your +hand against a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, +without first recollecting its mother, who suffered for it." + +"Perhaps I won't promise that," said Maskull slowly, "but I'll +undertake something more tangible. I will never lift my hand against +a living creature without first recollecting you, Joiwind." + +She turned a little pale. "Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, +he might be jealous." + +Panawe put his hand on her gently. "You would not talk like that in +Shaping's presence," he said. + +"No. Forgive me! I'm not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull's. +blood in my veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he +will do only honourable deeds, wherever he may be." + +"I'll set Maskull on his way," said Panawe. + +"There's no need," replied Maskull. "The way is plain." + +"But talking shortens the road." + +Maskull turned to go. + +Joiwind pulled him around toward her softly. "You won't think badly +of other women on my account?" + +"You are a blessed spirit," answered he. + +She trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there +thinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. +Halfway down the cliff face a little spring was encountered. Its +water was colourless, transparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull +had satisfied his thirst he felt himself different. His surroundings +were so real to him in their vividness and colour, so unreal in their +phantom-like mystery, that he scrambled downhill like one in a +winter's dream. + +When they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable +forest of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily +foreign looking. The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it +was as if he were gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they +got underneath the trees the light rays of the sun continued to come +through--white, savage, and blazing--but they were gelded of heat. +Then it was not hard to imagine that they were wandering through +cool, bright elfin glades. + +Through the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly +straight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see. + +Maskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow +unable to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable +smile--stern, yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the +silence, but, strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he +was singing or speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical +recitative, exactly like a bewitching adagio from a low toned +stringed instrument--but there was a difference. Instead of the +repetition and variation of one or two short themes, as in music, +Panawe's theme was prolonged--it never came to an end, but rather +resembled a conversation in rhythm and melody. And, at the same +time, it was no recitative, for it was not declamatory. It was a +long, quiet stream of lovely emotion. + +Maskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be +termed song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear +and intelligible--not with the intelligibility of words, but in the +way one sympathises with another's moods and feelings; and Maskull +felt that something important was about to be uttered, which would +explain all that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, +he never understood--and yet somehow he did understand. + +Late in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe +ceased his recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the +fashion of a man who wishes to convey that he intends to go no +farther. + +"What is the name of this country?" asked Maskull. + +"It is the Lusion Plain." + +"Was that music in the nature of a temptation--do you wish me not to +go on?" + +"Your work lies before you, and not behind you." + +"What was it, then? What work do you allude to?" + +"It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull." + +"It seemed like Shaping music to me." + +The instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why +he had done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him. + +Panawe, however, showed no surprise. "Shaping you will find +everywhere." + +"Am I dreaming, or awake?" + +"You are awake." + +Maskull fell into deep thought. "So be it," he said, rousing +himself. "Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?" + +"You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of +the Marest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the +forest and river meet." + +"Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?" + +"Only this, Maskull--wherever you go, help to make the world +beautiful, and not ugly." + +"That's more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, and +have no ambitions in the way of beautifying life--But tell Joiwind I +will try to keep myself pure." + +They parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had +stopped, and watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once. + +He became aware that something was about to happen. The air was +breathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his +frame in voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced +through the sky overhead. + +A single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere +behind him. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at +first; but then it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the +same time that it increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, +but now it was as if blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his +head. Then it gradually diminished in force, and travelled away in +front of him. It ended very faintly and distantly. + +He felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his +heart. Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day +did not exist for him. He was unconscious of himself--he had no +thoughts and no feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude +for him. + +A man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed +that his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was +young rather than old. Maskull observed that his countenance +possessed none of the special organs of Tormance, to which he had not +even yet become reconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person +seemed to radiate an excess of life, like the trembling of air on a +hot day. His eyes had such force that Maskull could not meet them. + +He addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a +double tone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an +undertone, like a sympathetic tanging string. + +Maskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence +of this individual. He believed that something good was happening to +him. He found it physically difficult to bring any words out. "Why +do you stop me?" + +"Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?" + +"I think you are Shaping." + +"I am Surtur." + +Maskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were +being stabbed. + +"You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you +here? I wish you to serve me." + +Maskull could no longer speak. + +"Those who joke at my world," continued the vision, "those who make a +mock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, which +are not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots--they shall +not escape." + +"I do not mock it." + +"Ask me your questions, and I will answer them." + +"I have nothing." + +"It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not +understand? You are my servant and helper." + +"I shall not fail." + +"This is for my sake, and not for yours." + +These last words had no sooner left Surtur's mouth than Maskull saw +him spring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of +the sky, he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur's form-- +not as a concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking +down and frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light +goes out. + +Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard +the solitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the +far distance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with +regularly increasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and +then grew more and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away +in the rear, until the note was merged in the deathlike silence of +the forest. It appeared to Maskull like the closing of a marvellous +and important chapter. + +Simultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed +to open up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of +immeasurable height. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his +limbs, and looked around him with a slow smile. + +After a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and +confused, but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the +rest--huge, shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul +of a creative artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of +destiny. + +The more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in +this new world--and even before leaving Earth--the clearer and more +indisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own +purposes, but must be here for an end. But what that end was, he +could not imagine. + +Through the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. +It looked a stupendous ball of red fire--now he could realise at his +ease what a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left +and began to descend steeply. + +A wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of +him, no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest +path led him straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and +regarded the lapping, gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite +bank, the forest continued. Miles to the south, Poolingdred could +just be distinguished. On the northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains +loomed up--high, wild, beautiful, and dangerous. They were not a +dozen miles away. + +Like the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths +of cool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In +spite of his bodily fatigue, he in wished to test his strength +against something. This craving he identified with the crags of the +Marest. They seemed to have the same magical attraction for his will +as the lodestone for iron. He kept biting his nails, as he turned +his eyes in that direction--wondering if it would not be possible to +conquer the heights that evening. But when he glanced back again at +Poolingdred, he remembered Joiwind and Panawe, and grew more +tranquil. He decided to make his bed at this spot, and to set off as +soon after daybreak as he should awake. + +He drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to +sleep. By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared +nothing for the possible dangers of the night--he confided in his +star. + +Branchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came +on, and through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, +he was awakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, +and wondered where he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow +was a terrestrial phenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got +up and went toward the source of the light. + +Away from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled +across the form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the +crimson rays was lying on the ground, several yards away from her. +It was like a small jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He +barely threw a glance at that, however. + +The woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big, +smooth, shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a +thin tentacle, but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, +which was upturned, was wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. +But he saw with surprise that in place of a breve on her forehead, +she possessed another eye. All three were closed. The colour of her +skin in the crimson glow he could not distinguish. + +He touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up +at him without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but +the two lower ones were dull and vacant--mere carriers of vision. +The middle, upper one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, +unflinching glare had yet something seductive and alluring in it. +Maskull felt a challenge in that look of lordly, feminine will, and +his manner instinctively stiffened. + +She sat up. + +"Can you speak my language?" he asked. "I wouldn't put such a +question, but others have been able to." + +"Why should you imagine that I can't read your mind? Is it so +extremely complex?" + +She spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to +listen to. + +"No, but you have no breve." + +"Well, but haven't I a sorb, which is better?" And she pointed to the +eye on her brow. + +"What is your name?" + +"Oceaxe." + +"And where do you come from?" + +"Ifdawn." + +These contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere +sound of her voice was fascinating. + +"I am going there tomorrow," he remarked. + +She laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment. + +"My name is Maskull," he went on. "I am a stranger--from another +world." + +"So I should judge, from your absurd appearance." + +"Perhaps it would be as well to say at once," said Maskull bluntly, +"are we, or are we not, to be friends?" + +She yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. "Why should we be +friends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a +lover." + +"You must look elsewhere for that." + +"So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace." + +She dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her +eyes. + +"What are you doing here?" he interrogated. + +"Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there often +enough it is a night for us which has no next morning." + +"Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, +it would be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to +expect in the way of dangers." + +"I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you," +retorted Oceaxe. + +"Are you returning in the morning?" persisted Maskull. + +"If I wish." + +"Then we will go together." + +She got up again on her elbow. "Instead of making plans for other +people, I would do a very necessary thing." + +"Pray, tell me." + +"Well, there's no reason why I should, but I will. I would try to +convert my women's organs into men's organs. It is a man's country." + +"Speak more plainly." + +"Oh, it's plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn +without a sorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too +is worse than useless." + +"You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do +you advise me to do?" + +She negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the +ground. + +"There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a +good while, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will +do the rest during the night. I promise nothing." + +Oceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull. + +He considered for a few minutes, and then walked over and to where +the stone was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the +size of a hen's egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, +and throwing out a continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks. + +Finally deciding that Oceaxe's advice was good, he applied the drude +first to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a +cauterising sensation--a feeling of healing pain. + + + +Chapter 9 + +OCEAXE + +Maskull's second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already +above the horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his +organs had changed during the night. His fleshy breve was altered +into an eyelike sorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third +arm, springing from the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of +greater physical security, but with the sorb he was obliged to +experiment, before he could grasp its function. + +As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of +his three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his +understanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the +lower eyes he saw things in clear detail, but without personal +interest; with the sorb he saw nothing as self-existent-- +everything appeared as an object of importance or non-importance to +his own needs. + +Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked +about him. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to +learn if she were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he +made up his mind to bathe in the river. + +It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, +but its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through +the trees. A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked +like animals, and were always changing shape. The ground, as well as +the leaves and branches of the forest trees, still held traces of +heavy dew or rain during the night. A poignantly sweet smell of +nature entered his nostrils. His pain was quiescent, and his spirits +were high. + +Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In +the morning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that +they were from five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, +castellated line seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs +fronting him were composed of gaudy rocks--vermilion, emerald, +yellow, ulfire, and black. As he gazed at them, his heart began to +beat like a slow, heavy drum, and he thrilled all over-- +indescribable hopes, aspirations, and emotions came over him. It was +more than the conquest of a new world which he felt--it was +something different.... + +He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe +strolled indolently up. + +He could now perceive the colour of her skin--it was a vivid, yet +delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was +startlingly unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a +genuine representative of a strange planet. Her frame also had +something curious about it. The curves were womanly, the bones were +characteristically female--yet all seemed somehow to express a +daring, masculine underlying will. The commanding eye on her +forehead set the same puzzle in plainer language. Its bold, +domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex and softness. + +She came to the river's edge and reviewed him from top to toe. "Now +you are built more like a man," she said, in her lovely, lingering +voice. + +"You see, the experiment was successful," he answered, smiling gaily. + +Oceaxe continued looking him over. "Did some woman give you that +ridiculous robe?" + +"A woman did give it to me"--dropping his smile--"but I saw +nothing ridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don't now." + +"I think I'd look better in it." + +As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which +suited her form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. +He obeyed, rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed +exchange was in fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin +a freer dress. Oceaxe in her drapery appeared more dangerously +feminine to him. + +"I don't want you to receive gifts at all from other women," she +remarked slowly. + +"Why not? What can I be to you?" + +"I have been thinking about you during the night." Her voice was +retarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a +fallen tree, and looked away. + +"In what way?" + +She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces +of the bark. + +"Last night you were so contemptuous." + +"Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with +your head over your shoulder?" + +It was now Maskull's turn to be silent. + +"Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can't +go on resisting me forever." + +"But this is preposterous" said Maskull, opening his eyes wide. +"Granted that you are a beautiful woman--we can't be quite so +primeval." + +Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. "It doesn't matter. I can +wait." + +"From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my +society. I have no objection--in fact I shall be glad--but only on +condition that you drop this language." + +"Yet you do think me beautiful?" + +"Why shouldn't I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see what +that has to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You +will find plenty of men to admire--and love you." + +At that she blazed up. "Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you +imagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is +not Crimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?" + +"Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the +temptation no farther--for it is a temptation, where a lovely woman +is concerned. I am not my own master." + +"I'm not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you +humiliate me so?" + +Maskull put his hands behind his back. "I repeat, I am not my own +master." + +"Then who is your master?" + +"Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him." + +"Did you speak with him?" she asked curiously. + +"I did." + +"Tell me what he said." + +"No, I can't--I won't. But whatever he said, his beauty was more +tormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that's why I can look at you in +cold blood." + +"Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?" + +Maskull frowned. "Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have +thought it effeminate." + +"It doesn't matter. You won't always be so boyish. But don't try my +patience too far." + +"Let us talk about something else--and, above all, let us get on +our road." + +She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that +he grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. +"Oh, Maskull, Maskull--what a fool you are!" + +"In what way am I a fool?" he demanded, scowling not at her words, +but at his own weakness. + +"Isn't the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of lovers? +And yet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away from +nature, but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?" + +"Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: +persistence." + +"Read me well, and then it is natural law that you'll think twice and +three times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, we +had better eat." + +"Eat?" said Maskull thoughtfully. + +"Don't you eat? Is food in the same category as love?" + +"What food is it?" + +"Fish from the river." + +Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he +felt hungry. + +"Is there nothing milder?" + +She pulled her mouth scornfully. "You came through Poolingdred, +didn't you? All the people there are the same. They think life is +to be looked at, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, +you will have to change your notions." + +"Go catch your fish," he returned, pulling down his brows. + +The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, +from the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, +and peered into the depths. Presently her look became tense and +concentrated; she dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of +little monster. It was more like a reptile than a fish, with its +scaly plates and teeth. She threw it on the ground, and it started +crawling about. Suddenly she darted all her will into her sorb. The +creature leaped into the air, and fell down dead. + +She picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales +and entrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became +stained with the light scarlet blood. + +"Find the drude, Maskull," she said, with a lazy smile. "You had it +last night." + +He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown +dull and feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe +placed it in the interior of the monster, and left the body lying on +the ground. + +"While it's cooking, I'll wash some of this blood away, which +frightens you so much. Have you never seen blood before?" + +Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back--the +contrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, +masterful, masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with +the fascinating and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling +idea flashed into his mind. + +"In your country I'm told there is an act of will called 'absorbing.' +What is that?" + +She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered +a delicious, clashing laugh. "You think I am half a man?" + +"Answer my question." + +"I'm a woman through and through, Maskull--to the marrowbone. But +that's not to say I have never absorbed males." + +"And that means..." + +"New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a +stormier heart..." + +"For you, yes--But for them?..." + +"I don't know. The victims don't describe their experiences. +Probably unhappiness of some sort--if they still know anything." + +"This is a fearful business!" he exclaimed, regarding her gloomily. +"One would think Ifdawn a land of devils." + +Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river. +"Better men than you--better in every sense of the word--are +walking about with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as +you like, Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be +eaten, and simple natures were made to be absorbed." + +"And human rights count for nothing!" + +She had bent over the river's edge, to wash her arms and hands, but +glanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. "They do count. +But we only regard a man as human for just as long as he's able to +hold his own with others." + +The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull +cast heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. +Whether it was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long +abstention, he did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even +cannibalistic. He ate little, and the moment he got up he felt +defiled. + +"Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time," said +Oceaxe. "On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull with +me, to shock.... Now we have to take to the river." + +They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them +with a sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering +them, had the contrary effect--it caused them to exert themselves, +and they moved faster. They climbed the river in this way for +several miles. The exercise gradually improved the circulation of +Maskull's blood, and he began to look at things in a far more way. +The hot sunshine, the diminished wind, the cheerful marvellous cloud +scenery, the quiet, crystal forests--all was soothing and delightful. +They approached nearer and nearer to the gaily painted heights of +Ifdawn. + +There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was +attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at +the same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a +ghost, painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the +feelings produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to +Maskull's impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices. + +He broke the long silence. "Those mountains have most extraordinary +shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular--no slopes or +curves." + +She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. "That's +typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft +and gradual." + +"I hear you, but I don't understand you." + +"All over the Marest you'll find patches of ground plunging down or +rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don't think twice before +acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions." + +Maskull was impressed. "A fresh, wild, primitive land." + +"How is it where you come from?" asked Oceaxe. + +"Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years to +move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks. +Originality is a lost habit." + +"Are there women there?" + +"As with you, and not very differently formed." + +"Do they love?" + +He laughed. "So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and +thoughts of the whole sex." + +"Probably they are more beautiful than I?" + +"No, I think not," said Maskull. + +There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily +onward. + +"What is your business in Ifdawn?" demanded Oceaxe suddenly. + +He hesitated over his answer. "Can you grasp that it's possible to +have an aim right in front of one, so big that one can't see it as a +whole?" + +She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, "What sort of aim?" + +"A moral aim." + +"Are you proposing to set the world right?" + +"I propose nothing--I am waiting." + +"Don't wait too long, for time doesn't wait--especially in Ifdawn." + +"Something will happen," said Maskull. + +Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. "So you have no special destination in +the Marest?" + +"No, and if you'll permit me, I will come home with you." + +"Singular man!" she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. "That's +what I have been offering all the time. Of course you will come home +with me. As for Crimtyphon..." + +"You mentioned that name before. Who is he?" + +"Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband." + +"This doesn't improve matters," said Maskull. + +"It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove +him." + +"We are certainly misunderstanding each other," said Maskull, quite +startled. "Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a compact +with you?" + +"You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to +come home with me." + +"Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?" + +"Either you or I must kill him." + +He eyed her for a full minute. "Now we are passing from folly to +insanity." + +"Not at all," replied Oceaxe. "It is the too-sad truth. And when +you have seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it." + +"I'm aware I am on a strange planet," said Maskull slowly, "where all +sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where the very laws of +morality may be different. Still as far as I am concerned, murder is +murder, and I'll have no more to do with a woman who wants to make +use of me, to get rid of her husband." + +"You think me wicked?" demanded Oceaxe steadily. + +"Or mad." + +"Then you had better leave me, Maskull--only--" + +"Only what?" + +"You wish to be consistent, don't you? Leave all other mad and +wicked people as well. Then you'll find it easier to reform the +rest." + +Maskull frowned, but said nothing. + +"Well?" demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile. + +"I'll come with you, and I'll see Crimtyphon--if only to warn him." + +Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether +at the image conjured up by Maskull's last words, or from some other +cause, he did not know. The conversation dropped. + +At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the +river made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no +longer of use to them on their journey. Maskull stared up +doubtfully. + +"It's a stiff climb for a hot morning." + +"Let's rest here a little," said she, indicating a smooth flat island +of black rock, standing up just out of the water in the middle of the +river. + +They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however, +standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs +opposite, and uttered a piercing and peculiar call. + +"What is that for?" She did not answer. After waiting a minute, she +repeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself from +the top of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. +It was followed by two others. The flight of these birds was +exceedingly slow and clumsy. + +"What are they?" he asked. + +She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat +down beside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the +shapes and colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but +creatures with long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, +terminating in fins which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright +blue, the legs and fins were yellow. They were flying, without +haste, but in a somewhat ominous fashion, straight toward them. He +could make out a long, thin spike projecting from each of the heads. + +"They are shrowks," explained Oceaxe at last. "If you want to know +their intention, I'll tell you. To make a meal of us. First of all +their spikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are really +suckers, will drain us dry of blood--pretty thoroughly too; there +are no half measures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so +don't eat flesh." + +"As you show such admirable sangfroid," said Maskull dryly, "I take +it there's no particular danger." + +Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. +A new form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground. + +"Are you trying to get up?" asked Oceaxe smoothly. + +"Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to +the rock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object +in view in waking them up?" + +"I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking +and asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with +your will." + +"I seem to have no will, unfortunately." + +Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich +and beautiful. "It's obvious you aren't a very heroic protector, +Maskull. It seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I expected +better things of your big body. Why, my husband would send those +creatures dancing all around the sky, by way of a joke, before +disposing of them. Now watch me.. Two of the three I'll kill; the +third we will ride home on. Which one shall we keep?" + +The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their +bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same +sensation of loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood +that as they hunted with their wills, there was no necessity for them +to possess a swift motion. + +"Choose which you please," he said shortly. "They are equally +objectionable to me." + +"Then I'll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most energetic +animal. Watch now." + +She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull +felt something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. +The two monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost +toward the earth, one after the other. He watched them crash on the +ground, and then lie motionless. The leader still came toward them, +but he fancied that its flight was altered in character; it was no +longer menacing, but tame and unwilling. + +Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their +island rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her +pleasure. They immediately crossed the water. + +Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty +feet long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and +leathery; a mane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was +awesome and unnatural, with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, +and blood-sucking cavity. There were true fins on its back and +tail. + +"Have you a good seat?" asked Oceaxe, patting the creature's flank. +"As I have to steer, let me jump on first." + +She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal's +back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the +fin there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with +his outer hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe's back, +and for additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist +with it. + +Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that +this ride had been planned for one purpose only--to inflame his +desires. + +The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he +had been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love +which was communicated to it was no longer pure and noble--it was +boiling, passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept +quiet, but Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious +of his feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. +"The ride will last some time, so hold on well!" Her voice was soft +like a flute, but rather malicious. + +Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm. + +The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and +rose slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward +toward the painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and +sickening; the contact of the brute's slimy skin was disgusting. All +this, however, was merely, background to Maskull, as he sat there +with closed eyes, holding on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of +his consciousness was the knowledge that he was gripping a fair +woman, and that her flesh was responding to his touch like a lovely +harp. + +They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look +around him. By this time they were already level with the top of the +outer rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild +archipelago of islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of +air. The islands were mountain summits; or, more accurately +speaking, the country was a high tableland, fissured everywhere by +narrow and apparently bottomless cracks. These cracks were in some +cases like canals, in others like lakes, in others merely holes in +the ground, closed in all round. The perpendicular sides of the +islands--that is, the upper, visible parts of the innumerable cliff +faces--were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; but the level surfaces +were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees alone were +distinguishable from the shrowk's back. They were of different +shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying but +did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage. + +As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and +his passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning +was gay and bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds +sailed across the sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he +experienced no aesthetic sensations--he felt nothing but an intense +longing for action and possession. When he looked at anything, he +immediately wanted to deal with it. The atmosphere of the land +seemed not free, but sticky; attraction and repulsion were its +constituents. Apart from this wish to play a personal part in what +was going on around and beneath him, the scenery had no significance +for him. + +So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe +turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with +what she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord. + +"Cold again so quickly, Maskull?" + +"What do you want?" he asked absently, still looking over the side. +"It's extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this." + +"You wish to take a hand?" + +"I wish to get down." + +"Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?" + +"Different from what? What are you talking about?" said Maskull, +still lost in abstraction. + +Oceaxe laughed again. "It would be strange if we couldn't make a man +of you, for the material is excellent." + +After that, she turned her back once more. + +The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They +were not on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of +broken terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto +been flying well above the ground; but now, when a new line of +towering cliffs confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast +upward, but caused it to enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the +mountains like a channel. They were instantly plunged into deep +shade. The canal was not above thirty feet wide; the walls stretched +upward on both sides for many hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice +chamber. When Maskull attempted to plumb the chasm with his eyes, he +saw nothing but black obscurity. + +"What is at the bottom?" he asked. + +"Death for you, if you go to look for it." + +"We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?" + +"Not that I have ever heard of," said Oceaxe, "but of course all +things are possible." + +"I think very likely there is life," he returned thoughtfully. + +Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. "Shall we go down and +see?" + +"You find that amusing?" + +"No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the +beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself." + +Maskull then laughed too. "I happen to be the only thing in Tormance +which is not a novelty for me." + +"Yes, but I am a novelty for you." + +The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the +mountain, and all the time they were gradually rising. + +"At least I have heard nothing like your voice before," said Maskull, +who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last ready +for conversation. + +"What's the matter with my voice?" + +"It's all that I can distinguish of you now; that's why I mentioned +it." + +"Isn't it clear--don't I speak distinctly?" + +"Oh, it's clear enough, but--it's inappropriate." + +"Inappropriate?" + +"I won't explain further," said Maskull, "but whether you are +speaking or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest and +strangest instrument I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it +is inappropriate." + +"You mean that my nature doesn't correspond?" + +He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly +broken off by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising +up from the gulf directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, +roaring thunder. + +"The ground is rising under us!" cried Oceaxe. + +"Shall we escape?" + +She made no answer, but urged the shrowk's flight upward, at such a +steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The +floor of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, +could be heard, and almost felt, coming up after them, like a +gigantic landslip in the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and +fragments began to fall. A hundred awful noises filled the air, +growing louder and louder each second--splitting, hissing, cracking, +grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. When they had still fifty +feet or so to go, to reach the top, a sort of dark, indefinite sea of +broken rocks and soil appeared under their feet, ascending rapidly, +with irresistible might, accompanied by the most horrible noises. +The canal was filled up for two hundred yards, before and behind +them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be raised. The +shrowk in its ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. Beast and +riders experienced in that moment all the horrors of an earthquake-- +they were rolled violently over, and thrown among the rocks and dirt. +All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion. + +Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the +sunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two +the valley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more +higher than the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise +stopped, as if by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked +themselves up and examined themselves for cuts and bruises. The +shrowk lay on its side, panting violently, and sweating with fright. + +"That was a nasty affair," said Maskull, flicking the dirt off his +person. + +Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe. + +"It might have been far worse.... I mean, it's bad enough to come up, +but it's death to go down, and that happens just as often." + +"Whatever induces you to live in such a country?" + +"I don't know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought of +moving out of it." + +"A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a +place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to +another." + +"You will learn by degrees," she answered, smiling. + +She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet. + +"Get on again, Maskull!" she directed, climbing back to her perch. +"We haven't too much time to waste." + +He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the +mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his +thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak +into his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely +to sit there in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure +not to be doing something. + +"How secretive you are, Maskull!" said Oceaxe quietly, without +turning her head. + +"What secrets--what do you mean?" + +"Oh, I know perfectly well what's passing inside you. Now I think it +wouldn't be amiss to ask you--is friendship still enough?" + +"Oh, don't ask me anything," growled Maskull. "I've far too many +problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some of +them." + +He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way +toward a distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous +natural quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and +terminating in a broad, flat top, on which what looked like green +snow still lingered. + +"What mountain is that?" he asked. + +"Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn." + +"Are we going there?" + +"Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might +be worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole +land as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone's Island--and beyond. +You can also see Alppain from it." + +"That's a sight I mean to see before I have finished." + +"Do you, Maskull?" She turned around and put her hand on his wrist. +"Stay with me, and one day we'll go to Disscourn together." + +He grunted unintelligibly. + +There were no signs of human existence in the country under their +feet. While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of +forest not far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided +with an awful roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was +solid land one minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped +violently up with the shock. "This is frightful." + +Oceaxe remained unmoved. + +"Why, life here must be absolutely impossible," he went on, when he +had somewhat recovered himself. "A man would need nerves of steel.... +Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?" + +"Oh, I suppose we wouldn't be alive if there weren't," replied +Oceaxe, with composure. "We are more or less clever at it--but that +doesn't prevent our often getting caught." + +"You had better teach me the signs." + +"We'll have many things to go over together. And among them, I +expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But +first let us get home." + +"How far is it now?" + +"It is right in front of you," said Oceaxe, pointing with her +forefinger. "You can see it." + +He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, +made out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, +about two miles distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake +of air, the bottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a +bottleneck, joining it to the mainland. It was overgrown with bright +vegetation, distinct in the brilliant atmosphere. A single tall +tree, shooting up in the middle of the peninsula, dwarfed everything +else; it was wide and shady with sea-green leaves. + +"I wonder if Crimtyphon is there," remarked Oceaxe. "Can I see two +figures, or am I mistaken?" + +"I also see something," said Maskull. + +In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height +of about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth +on the mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both +descended--Maskull with aching thighs. + +"What shall we do with the monster?" asked Oceaxe. Without waiting +for a suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. "Fly +away home! I may want you some other time." + +It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after +half running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the +air, and paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. +They watched it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the +neck of land, followed by Maskull. + +Branchspell's white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The +sky had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped +entirely. The ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, +shrubs, and grasses. Through these could be seen here and there the +golden chalky soil--and occasionally a glittering, white metallic +boulder. Everything looked extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was +at last walking in the weird Ifdawn Marest which had created such +strange feelings in him when seen from a distance.... And now he felt +no wonder or curiosity at all, but only desired to meet human beings-- +so intense had grown his will. He longed to test his powers on his +fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed of the least importance to +him. + +On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a +large copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle +of small trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space-- +perhaps the roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed +off the smaller fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled +a little, bubbling fountain, whose water was iron-red. The +precipices on all sides, overhung with thorns, flowers, and creepers, +invested the enclosure with an air of wild and charming seclusion--a +mythological mountain god might have dwelt here. + +Maskull's restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who +formed the centre of the picture. + +One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a +tall couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, +and was eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these +plums lay on the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of +the tree completely sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish +form was clad in a rough skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull +could not tell from his face whether he were a young boy or a grown +man. The features were smooth, soft, and childish, their expression +was seraphically tranquil; but his violet upper eye was sinister and +adult. His skin was of the colour of yellow ivory. His long, +curling hair matched his sorb--it was violet. The second man was +standing erect before the other, a few feet away from him. He was +short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, and rather +commonplace, but there was something terrible about his appearance. +The features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, despair, +and horror. + +Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the +outermost shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch. + +"We have met with an uplift," she remarked carelessly, looking toward +the youth. + +He eyed her, but said nothing. + +"How is your plant man getting on?" Her tone was artificial but +extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on +the ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled +down the skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind +her, with crossed arms. + +There was silence for a minute. + +"Why don't you answer your mistress, Sature?" said the boy on the +couch, in a calm, treble voice. + +The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a +strangled tone, "I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are +already buds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root." + +Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that +although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated +by the boy. + +"What he says is quite true," remarked the latter. "Tomorrow roots +will reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well +established. Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into +branches, and his fingers into leaves. It will take longer to +transform his head into a crown, but still I hope--in fact I can +almost promise that within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be +plucking and enjoying fruit from this new and remarkable tree." + +"I love these natural experiments," he concluded, putting out his +hand for another plum. "They thrill me." + +"This must be a joke," said Maskull, taking a step forward. + +The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt +as if he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat. + +"The morning's work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again after +Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I +expect, so you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for +your roots. Never forget--however fresh and charming these plants +appear to you now, in the future they will be your deadliest rivals +and enemies. Now you may go." + +The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. +Oceaxe yawned. + +Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. "Are you +joking, or are you a devil?" + +"I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will +devise a new punishment for you." + +The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, +stretched her beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to +witness the struggle between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon +smiled too; he reached out his hand for more fruit, but did not eat +it. Maskull's self-control broke down and he dashed at the boy, +choking with red fury--his beard wagged and his face was crimson. +When he realised with whom he had to deal, Crimtyphon left off +smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a terrible and malignant +glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered together all +the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight continued his advance. +The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get away.... +His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, +recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, +to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. +Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, +so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died. + +The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull +viewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and +wonder came into his own countenance. In the moment of death +Crimtyphon's face had undergone a startling and even shocking +alteration. Its personal character had wholly vanished, giving place +to a vulgar, grinning mask which expressed nothing. + +He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had +seen the brother of that expression. It was identical with that on +the face of the apparition at the seance, after Krag had dealt with +it. + + + +Chapter 10 + +TYDOMIN + +Oceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating +the plums. + +"You see, you had to kill him, Maskull," she said, in a rather +quizzical voice. + +He came away from the corpse and regarded her--still red, and still +breathing hard. "It's no joking matter. You especially ought to +keep quiet." + +"Why?" + +"Because he was your husband." + +"You think I ought to show grief--when I feel none?" + +"Don't pretend, woman!" + +Oceaxe smiled. "From your manner one would think you were accusing +me of some crime." + +Maskull literally snorted at her words. "What, you live with filth-- +you live in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then--" + +"Oh, now I grasp it," she said, in a tone of perfect detachment. + +"I'm glad." + +"Well, Maskull," she proceeded, after a pause, "and who gave you the +right to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?" + +He looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another +long interval of silence. + +"I never loved him," said Oceaxe at last, looking at the ground. + +"That makes it all the worse." + +"What does all this mean--what do you want?" + +"Nothing from you--absolutely nothing--thank heaven!" + +She gave a hard laugh. "You come here with your foreign +preconceptions and expect us all to bow down to them." + +"What preconceptions?" + +"Just because Crimtyphon's sports are strange to you, you murder +him--and you would like to murder me." + +"Sports! That diabolical cruelty." + +"Oh, you're sentimental!" said Oceaxe contemptuously. "Why do you +need to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, all the world +over, and one form is as good as another. He was only to be made a +tree, like a million other trees. If they can endure the life, why +can't he?" + +"And this is Ifdawn morality!" + +Oceaxe began to grow angry. "It's you who have peculiar ideas. You +rave about the beauty of flowers and trees--you think them divine. +But when it's a question of taking on this divine, fresh, pure, +enchanting loveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately +becomes a cruel and wicked degradation. Here we have a strange +riddle, in my opinion." + +"Oceaxe, you're a beautiful, heartless wild beast--nothing more. If +you weren't a woman--" + +"Well"--curling her lip--"let us hear what would happen if I +weren't a woman?" + +Maskull bit his nails. + +"It doesn't matter. I can't touch you--though there's certainly not +the difference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. For +this you may thank my 'foreign preconceptions.'... Farewell!" + +He turned to go. Oceaxe's eyes slanted at him through their long +lashes. + +"Where are you off to, Maskull?" + +"That's a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must be a +change for the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!" + +"Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just +starting, and you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can +quickly put that body out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so +much, the place is big enough--we needn't talk, or even see each +other." + +"I don't wish to breathe the same air." + +"Singular man!" She was sitting erect and motionless, like a +beautiful statue. "And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, +and all the undone things which you set out to do?" + +"You aren't the one I shall speak to about that. But"--he eyed her +meditatively--"while I'm still here you can tell me this. What's +the meaning of the expression on that corpse's face?" + +"Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. +Ought they not to?" + +"I once heard it called 'Crystalman's face.'" + +"Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is +doubtless the family resemblance." + +"It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the +same." + +"You have wise and truthful acquaintances." + +"Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?" said Maskull, more +to himself than to her. "That apparition was something quite +different." + +She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, +gently pulled his arm. + +"You see--we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your +questions. I'm not excessively smart, but I'll try to be of +assistance." + +Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She +bent toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, +cool, feminine breath should fan his cheek. + +"Aren't you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then what +does it matter who sent you?" + +"What can you possibly know of good and evil?" + +"Are you only instructing the initiated?" + +"Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you're quite right. I wish +to do what I can--not because I am qualified, but because I am +here." + +Oceaxe's voice dropped to a whisper. "You're a giant, both in body +and soul. What you want to do, you can do." + +"Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own +ends?" + +She sighed. "Don't you see how difficult you are making the +conversation? Let's talk about your work, not about ourselves." + +Maskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern +sky. It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. +While he was observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a +disquieting nature, passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it +struck him for the first time that he was being unnecessarily brutal +to her. He had forgotten that she was a woman, and defenceless. + +"Won't you stay?" she asked all of a sudden, quite openly and +frankly. + +"Yes, I think I'll stay," he replied slowly. "And another thing, +Oceaxe--if I've misjudged your character, pray forgive me. I'm a +hasty, passionate man." + +"There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for +vicious hearts. And you didn't misjudge my character, as far as you +went--only, every woman has more than one character. Don't you know +that?" + +During the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and +both looked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly +across the neck that separated them from the mainland. + +"Tydomin," muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She +immediately moved away from Maskull and stood up. + +The newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was +no longer quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who +knows her way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its +quiescence there just was a glimpse of something strange and +dangerous. It was curiously alluring, though not exactly beautiful. +Her hair was clustering and boyish, reaching only to the neck. It +was of a strange indigo colour. She was quaintly attired in a tunic +and breeches, pieced together from the square, blue-green plates of +some reptile. Her small, ivory-white breasts were exposed. Her sorb +was black and sad--rather contemplative. + +Without once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided +straight toward Crimtyphon's corpse. When she arrived within a few +feet of it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded. + +Oceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, "It's Crimtyphon's +other wife, who lives under Disscourn. She's a most dangerous woman. +Be careful what you say. If she asks you to do anything, refuse it +outright." + +"The poor soul looks harmless enough." + +"Yes, she does--but the poor soul is quite capable of swallowing up +Krag himself.... Now, play the man." + +The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin's notice, for +she now slowly turned her eyes toward them. + +"Who killed him?" she demanded. + +Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able +to catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and +curiously enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter. + +Oceaxe whispered, "Don't say a word, leave it all to me." Then she +swung her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, "I +killed him." + +Tydomin's words by this time were ringing in Maskull's head like an +actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to ignore +them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the +consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and +putting her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct +voice, "It was I that killed Crimtyphon." + +Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. "Maskull says that so as +to shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed +him, Tydomin." + +"I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own +strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose." + +Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. "It's of little +consequence who killed him, for he's better dead than alive, in my +opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair." + +Tydomin appeared not to hear him--she looked beyond him at Oceaxe +musingly. "When you murdered him, didn't it occur to you that I +would come here, to find out?" + +"I never once thought of you," replied Oceaxe, with an angry laugh. +"Do you really imagine that I carry your image with me wherever I +go?" + +"If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?" + +"Lying hypocrite!" Oceaxe spat out. "You never were in love with +Crimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an excellent +opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon's gone.... For +we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had asked +him. He worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly." + +Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. "Is it necessary +for you to listen to all this?" + +Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked +away out of earshot. + +Tydomin approached Oceaxe. "Perhaps because my beauty fades and I'm +no longer young, I needed him all the more." + +Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl. "Well, he's dead, and that's the end +of it. What are you going to do now, Tydomin?" + +The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. "There's +nothing left to do, except mourn the dead. You won't grudge me that +last office?" + +"Do you want to stay here?" demanded Oceaxe suspiciously. + +"Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone." + +"Then what is to become of us?" + +"I thought that you and your lover--what is his name?" + +"Maskull." + +"I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend +Blodsombre at my home." + +Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, "Will you come with me now to +Disscourn?" + +"If you wish," returned Maskull. + +"Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon's +death. I won't keep him." + +"Why don't you question me, rather?" demanded Oceaxe, looking up +sharply. + +Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. "We know each other too well." + +"Play no tricks!" said Oceaxe, and she turned to go. + +"Surely you must be dreaming," said Tydomin. "That's the way-- +unless you want to walk over the cliffside." + +The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction +which Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, +into empty space. + +"Shaping! I must be mad," cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she +obediently followed the other's finger. + +She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces +away. Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was +doing. Tydomin remained standing with outstretched finger, watching +her. Without hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe +strolled on--and when she had reached the extreme end of the land +she still took one more step. + +Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body +disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded. + +Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself +out of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on +the ground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished. + +He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began +to sob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet. + +The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some +time before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words +with difficulty. "You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want +to hear why you did it." + +"Hadn't I cause?" she asked, standing with downcast eyes. + +"Was it pure fiendishness?" + +"It was for Crimtyphon's sake." + +"She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so." + +"You are loyal to her, and I'm loyal to him." + +"Loyal? You've made a terrible blunder. She wasn't my mistress. I +killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely no +part in it." + +"Wasn't she your lover?" asked Tydomin slowly. + +"You've made a terrible mistake," repeated Maskull. "I killed him +because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of his death as you +are." + +Tydomin's face took on a hard look. "So you are guilty of two +deaths." + +There was a dreadful silence. + +"Why couldn't you believe me?" asked Maskull, who was pale and +sweating painfully. + +"Who gave you the right to kill him?" demanded Tydomin sternly. + +He said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question. + +She sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. "Since +you murdered him, you must help me bury him." + +"What's to be done? This is a most fearful crime." + +"You art a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? +What are we to you?" + +"Unfortunately you are right." + +Another pause ensued. + +"It's no use standing here," said Tydomin. "Nothing can be done. You +must come with me." + +"Come with you? Where to?" + +"To Disscourn. There's a burning lake on the far side of it. He +always wished to be cast there after death. We can do that after +Blodsombre--in the meantime we must take him home." + +"You're a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried when +that poor girl must remain unburied?" + +"You know that's out of the question," replied Tydomin quietly. + +Maskull's eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing. + +"We must do something," she continued. "I shall go. You can't wish +to stay here alone?" + +"No, I couldn't stay here--and why should I want to? You want me to +carry the corpse?" + +"He can't carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will ease +your mind to carry it." + +"Ease my mind?" said Maskull, rather stupidly. + +"There's only one relief for remorse, and that's voluntary pain." + +"And have you no remorse?" he asked, fixing her with a heavy eye. + +"These crimes are yours, Maskull," she said in a low but incisive +voice. + +They walked over to Crimtyphon's body, and Maskull hoisted it on to +his shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did +not offer to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. + +She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through +sunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the +heat was insufferable--streams of sweat coursed down his face, and +the corpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked +in front of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her +white, womanish calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His +features grew sullen. At the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed +his burden to slip off his shoulders on to the ground, where it lay +sprawled every which way. He called out to Tydomin. + +She quickly looked around. + +"Come here. It has just occurred to me"--he laughed--"why should I +be carrying this corpse--and why should I be following you at all? +What surprises me is, why this has never struck me before." + +She at once came back to him. "I suppose you're tired, Maskull. Let +us sit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?" + +"Oh, it's not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you know of +any reason why I should be acting as your porter?" He laughed again, +but nevertheless sat down on the ground beside her. + +Tydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, +so as to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still +glowing. Maskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a +moment or two in silence. + +"Why don't you speak?" he asked at last. + +"What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?" + +"I'm not speaking of that light." + +"Doesn't it suggest anything at all?" + +"Perhaps it doesn't. What does it matter?" + +"Not sacrifice?" + +Maskull grew sullen again. "Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?" + +"Hasn't it entered your head yet," said Tydomin, looking straight in +front of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, "that this +adventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you have made +some sort of sacrifice?" + +He returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes' +time Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost +angrily, threw Crimtyphon's corpse over his shoulder again. + +"How far do we have to go?" he asked in a surly tone. + +"An hour's walk." + +"Lead on." + +"Still, this isn't the sacrifice I mean," said Tydomin quietly, as +she went on in front. + +Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to +pass from peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they +were able to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make +use of rude bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented +path. Underneath were the black, impenetrable abysses--on the +surface were the glaring sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the +chaotic tangle of strange plants. There were countless reptiles and +insects. The latter were thicker built than those of Earth-- +consequently still more disgusting, and some of them were of enormous +size. One monstrous insect, as large as a horse, stood right in the +centre of their path without budging. It was armour-plated, had jaws +like scimitars, and underneath its body was a forest of legs. +Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it crashing into the +gulf. + +"What have I to offer, except my life?" Maskull suddenly broke out. +"And what good is that? It won't bring that poor girl back into the +world." + +"Sacrifice is not for utility. It's a penalty which we pay." + +"I know that." + +"The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has +happened." + +She waited for Maskull to come even with her. + +"Perhaps you imagine I'm not man enough--you imagine that because I +allowed poor Oceaxe to die for me--" + +"She did die for you," said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic voice. + +"That would be a second blunder of yours," returned Maskull, just as +firmly. "I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I'm not in love with +life." + +"Your life is not required." + +"Then I don't understand what you want, or what you are speaking +about." + +"It's not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That would be +compliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until you +feel there's nothing else for you to do." + +"It's all very mysterious." + +The conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful +crashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was +accompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they +stood. They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final +disappearance of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in +front of them. Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with +all its teeming animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic +story. The new chasm was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther +edge the Alppain glow burned blue just over the horizon. + +"Now we shall have to make a detour," said Tydomin, halting. + +Maskull caught hold of her with his third hand. "Listen to me, while +I try to describe what I'm feeling. When I saw that landslip, +everything I have heard about the last destruction of the world came +into my mind. It seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, +and that the world were really falling to pieces. Then, where the +land was, we now have this empty, awful gulf--that's to say, +nothing--and it seems to me as if our life will come to the same +condition, where there was something there will be nothing. But that +terrible blue glare on the opposite side is exactly like the eye of +fate. It accuses us, and demands what we have made of our life, +which is no more. At the same time, it is grand and joyful. The joy +consists in this--that it is in our power to give freely what will +later on be taken from us by force." + +Tydomin watched him attentively. "Then your feeling is that your +life is worthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who +asks?" + +"No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living for +is to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us. +Understand me. It isn't cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but +heroism.... It's hard to explain." + +"Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It's a +heavy one, but that's what you seem to wish." + +"That is so. In my present mood it can't be too heavy." + +"Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that +Crimtyphon's dead, I'm tired of being a woman." + +"I fail to comprehend." + +"Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish +to be a male. I see it isn't worth while being a woman. I mean to +dedicate my own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine +together, and give them a common funeral in the burning lake. That's +the sacrifice I offer you. As I said, it's a hard one." + +"So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is +difficult to understand." + +"No, I don't ask you to die. You will go on living." + +"How is it possible without a body?" + +Tydomin gazed at him earnestly. "There are many such beings, even in +your world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. +They are in reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always +longing to act and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble- +minded enough to accept such a state, do you think?" + +"If it's possible, I accept it," replied Maskull quietly. "Not in +spite of its heaviness, but because of it. But how is it possible?" + +"Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of +which you have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I +don't hold you to your word, for unless it's a free sacrifice I will +have nothing to do with it." + +"I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, +you have my consent, once for all." + +"Then we'll leave it like that for the present," said Tydomin sadly. + +They proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed +rather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long +divergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly +formed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a +miniature, insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting +himself against a tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. +He was young. His beardless expression bore an expression of unusual +sincerity, and in other respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking +youth, of an intellectual type. His hair was thick, short, and +flaxen. He possessed neither a sorb nor a third arm--so presumably +he was not a native of Ifdawn. His forehead, however, was disfigured +by what looked like a haphazard assortment of eyes, eight in number, +of different sizes and shapes. They went in pairs, and whenever two +were in use, it was indicated by a peculiar shining--the rest +remained dull, until their turn came. In addition to the upper eyes +he had the two lower ones, but they were vacant and lifeless. This +extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively alive and dead, gave the +young man an appearance of almost alarming mental activity. He was +wearing nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull seemed somehow to +recognise the face, though he had certainly never set eyes on it +before. + +Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to +rest in the shade. + +"Question him, Maskull," she said, rather carelessly, jerking her +head toward the stranger. + +Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, "What's +your name, and where do you come from?" + +The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes, +then with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention +to Tydomin, who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at +last, in a dry, manly, nervous voice. "I am Digrung. I have arrived +here from Matterplay." His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly +realised of whom he reminded him. It was of Joiwind. + +"Perhaps you're going to Poolingdred, Digrung?" he inquired, +interested. + +"As a matter of fact I am--if I can find my way out of this accursed +country." + +"Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?" + +"She's my sister. I'm on my way to see her now. Why, do you know +her?" + +"I met her yesterday." + +"What is your name, then?" + +"Maskull." + +"I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four +years. Is she well, and happy?" + +"Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?" + +"Her husband--yes. But where do you come from? I've seen nothing +like you before." + +"From another world. Where is Matterplay?" + +"It's the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea." + +"What is it like there--how do you amuse yourselves? The same old +murders and sudden deaths?" + +"Are you ill?" asked Digrung. "Who is this woman, why are you +following at her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What's +that corpse--why are you dragging it around the country with you?" + +Tydomin smiled. "I've already heard it said about Matterplay, that +if one sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately +springs up. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, +Digrung?" + +"I don't attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, and I +see insanity. That wouldn't matter, but I don't like to see a man of +intelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes." + +"I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge +character. However, I don't mind. Your opinion's nothing to me, +Digrung. You'd better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his +own sake--but your feminine friend is sure to be curious about your +having been seen carrying a dead man." + +Maskull's underlip shot out. "Tell your sister nothing, Digrung. +Don't mention my name at all. I don't want her to know about this +meeting of ours." + +"Why not?" + +"I don't wish it--isn't that enough?" + +Digrung looked impassive. + +"Thoughts and words," he said, "which don't correspond with the real +events of the world are considered most shameful in Matterplay." + +"I'm not asking you to lie, only to keep silent." + +"To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can't accede to +your wish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it." + +Maskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example. + +She touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. "The +dead man is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you'll +understand why he wishes you to hold your tongue." + +"I guessed there was some foul play," said Digrung. "It doesn't +matter--I can't falsify facts. Joiwind must know." + +"You refuse to consider her feelings?" said Maskull, turning pale. + +"Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on +realities, aren't worth considering. But Joiwind's are not of that +kind." + +"If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without seeing +her; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting +when she hears your news." + +"What are these strange relations between you?" demanded Digrung, +eying him with suddenly aroused suspicion. + +Maskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. "Good God! You don't +doubt your own sister. That pure angel!" + +Tydomin caught hold of him delicately. "I don't know Joiwind, but, +whoever she is and whatever she's like, I know this--she's more +fortunate in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really +value her happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or +other." + +"I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey." + +"If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough." + +Maskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. "I seem to be leaving +a wake of corpses behind me on this journey." + +"Why a corpse? There's no need to kill him." + +"Thanks for that!" said Digrung dryly. "All the same, some crime is +about to burst. I feel it." + +"What must I do, then?" asked Maskull. + +"It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very +interested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate +long. Don't you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set +their feeble, obstinate wills against yours?" + +"That is a worse crime," said Maskull. + +"Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales." + +Digrung laughed, but changed colour. "I was right then. The monster +has sprung into the light of day." + +Maskull laid a hand on his shoulder. "You have the choice, and we +are not joking. Do as I ask." + +"You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I +can't talk to you. As for you, woman--sin must be like a pleasant +bath to you...." + +"There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a +passer-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you." + +"Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are +legitimate and right." + +"Do as you please," said Tydomin. "If you come to grief, your +thoughts will hardly have corresponded with the real events of the +world, which is what you boast about. It is no affair of mine." + +"I shall go on, and not back!" exclaimed Digrung, with angry +emphasis. + +Tydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. "Bear witness that I +have tried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick +decision in your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, +Digrung's happiness or Joiwind's. Digrung won't allow you to +preserve them both." + +"It won't take me long to decide. Digrung, I gave you a last chance +to change your mind." + +"As long as it's in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister +against her criminal friends." + +Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. +Instructed in his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he +pressed the young man tightly to his body with all three arms. A +feeling of wild, sweet delight immediately passed through him. Then +for the first time he comprehended the triumphant joys of +"absorbing." It satisfied the hunger of the will, exactly as food +satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung proved feeble--he made +little opposition. His personality passed slowly and evenly into +Maskull's. The latter became strong and gorged. The victim +gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in his +arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed +his second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... + +Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half +expected her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a +sign to him to pick up Crimtyphon's corpse. As he obeyed, he +wondered why Digrung's dead face did not wear the frightful +Crystalman mask. + +"Why hasn't he altered?" he muttered to himself. + +Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot. +"He isn't dead--that's why. The expression you mean is waiting for +your death." + +"Then is that my real character?" + +She laughed softly. "You came here to carve a strange world, and now +it appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there's no doubt about it, +Maskull. You needn't stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, +like the rest of us. You are not a king, or a god." + +"Since when have I belonged to him?" + +"What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of +Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago." + +Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and +strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically +distressed and looking very grave. + +The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The +character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became +loftier and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were +filled with rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the +peaks like a mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard +work, the intervening spaces were so wide--Tydomin, however, knew +the way. The intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of +vivid landscape, emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a +profound impression on Maskull's mind. The glow of Alppain was +hidden by the huge mass of Disscourn, which loomed up straight in +front of them. + +The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now +completely melted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty +cliffs stood out with terrific brilliance. They were directly +beneath the bulk of the mountain, which was not a mile away. It did +not appear dangerous to climb, but he was unaware on which side of it +their destination lay. + +It was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few +pale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, +motionless threads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. +It was strewn with detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks +projected everywhere like iron teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small +black hole near the base, which might be a cave. "That is where I +live." + +"You live here alone?" + +"Yes." + +"It's an odd choice for a woman--and you are not unbeautiful, +either." + +"A woman's life is over at twenty-five," she replied, sighing. "And +I am far older than that. Ten years ago it would have been I who +lived yonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn't have happened." + +A quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. +It was ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black. + +"Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun," directed +Tydomin. He did so. + +She cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. "Does your resolution +still hold, Maskull?" + +"Why shouldn't it hold? My brains are not feathers." + +"Follow me, then." + +They both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening +crash, like heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull's +weakened heart thumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, +and dust, swept past the cave entrance from above. If their going in +had been delayed by a single minute, they would have been killed. + +Tydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started +walking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold +as ice. At the first bend the light from the outer world +disappeared, leaving them in absolute blackness. Maskull kept +stumbling over the uneven ground, but she kept tight hold of him, and +hurried him along. + +The tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the +atmosphere changed--or such was his impression. He was somehow led +to imagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin +stopped, and then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping +hand encountered stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered +that it was a sort of stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen +inches from the ground. She told him to lie down. + +"Has the time come?" asked Maskull. + +"Yes." + +He lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to +happen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any +gradation, he lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer +able to feel his limbs or internal organs. His mind remained active +and alert. Nothing particular appeared to be taking place. + +Then the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He +could see nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He +fancied that he heard music, but while he was listening for it, it +stopped. The light grew stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the +confused sound of distant voices. + +Suddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone +scream faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything +clearly. + +He was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, +lighted by electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, +but by a man dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face +he was certainly familiar, but under what circumstances he could not +recall. Other people stood in the background--they too were vaguely +known to him. He sat up and began to smile, without any especial +reason; and then stood upright. + +Everybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion--he +wondered why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in +particular he knew--the man at the farther end of the room, who +paced restlessly backward and forward, his face transfigured by +stern, holy grandeur; and that other big, bearded man--who was +himself. Yes--he was looking at his own double. But it was just as +if a crime-riddled man of middle age were suddenly confronted with +his own photograph as an earnest, idealistic youth. + +His other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not +comprehend the sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a +short, brutish-looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in +an extraordinary manner to everyone around him; and after that came +straight up to him--Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were +incomprehensible. A terrible expression came over the newcomer's +face, and he grasped his neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull +felt his bones bending and breaking, excruciating pains passed +through all the nerves of his body, and he experienced a sense of +impending death. He cried out, and sank helplessly on the floor, in +a heap. The chamber and the company vanished--the light went out. + +Once more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this +time lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his +hand. He was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting +for the despairing anguish that filled his mind. + +Tydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. "Why are you back +so soon? I've not had time yet. You must return." + +He caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a +low scream, as though in pain. "What does this mean--what are you +doing, Maskull?" + +"Krag--" began Maskull, but the effort to produce his words choked +him, so that he was obliged to stop. + +"Krag--what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my +arm." + +He gripped her arm tighter. + +"Yes, I've seen Krag. I'm awake." + +"Oh! You are awake, awake." + +"And you must die," said Maskull, in an awful voice. + +"But why? What has happened?..." + +"You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no +other reason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!" + +Tydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to +regain her self-possession. + +"You won't offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?" + +"No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured +that you must die--you must expiate your fearful crimes." + +"You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have +escaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come +outside. I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also +been courteous to you. I make no other supplication." + + + +Chapter 11 + +ON DISSCOURN + +BY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre +was at its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward--a +long succession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them +the bright, stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand +feet or more. Maskull's eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; +he was still holding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to +speak, or to get away. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed. + +After gazing at the country for along time in silence, he turned +toward her. "Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?" + +"It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?" + +"It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow calmer, +and that's what I want. I wish you to understand that what is going +to happen is not a murder, but an execution." + +"It will taste the same," said Tydomin. + +"When I have gone out of this country, I don't wish to feel that I +have left a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be +fair to others. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy +death for you." + +She shrugged her shoulders. "We must wait till Blodsombre is over." + +"Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we +will both be cool by evening. We must start at once." + +"Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry +Crimtyphon?" + +Maskull looked at her strangely. + +"I grudge no man his funeral." + +She painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they +stepped out into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on +the head. Maskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no +compassion entered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman +had done him. + +The way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its +base. It was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by +cracks and water gullies; they could see the water, but could not get +at it. There was no shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all +the water in their blood seemed to dry up. + +Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil's delight at Tydomin's. +"Sing me a song!" he called out presently. "A characteristic one." + +She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without +any sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and +weird. The song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to +ascertain whether he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of +the grotesque melody began to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the +words were pure nonsense--or else their significance was too deep +for him. + +"Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that stuff, +woman?" + +Tydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with +ghastly jerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with +her two left arms. "It's a pity we could not have met as friends, +Maskull. I could have shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps +you will never see. The wild, mad, side. But now it's too late, and +it doesn't matter." + +They turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the +western base. + +"Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?" asked +Maskull. + +"It is easiest to go to Sant." + +"Will we see it from anywhere?" + +"Yes, though it is a long way off." + +"Have you been there?" + +"I am a woman, and interdicted." + +"True. I have heard something of the sort." + +"But don't ask me any more questions," said Tydomin, who was becoming +faint. + +Maskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made +a cup of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay +down her burden. The gnawl water acted like magic--it seemed to +replenish all the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty +sponge pores, sucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self- +possession. + +About three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second +corner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn. + +A hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the +mountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with +a sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere +immediately over a furnace. + +"The lake is underneath," said Tydomin. + +Maskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country +sloped away in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a +narrow path channelled its way up through the rocks toward the +towering summit of the pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east +quarter, a long, flat-topped plateau raised its head far above all +the surrounding country. It was Sant--and there and then he made up +his mind that that should be his destination that day. + +Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down +Crimtyphon's body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined +her; arrived at the brink, he immediately flung himself at full +length on his chest, to see what could be seen of the lake of fire. +A gust of hot, asphyxiating air smote his face and set him coughing, +but he did not get up until he had stared his fill at the huge sea of +green, molten lava, tossing and swirling at no great distance below, +like a living will. + +A faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he +did so his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his +soul. All the world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, +and without meaning.... + +He climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead +husband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and +fondling his violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily +kissed the withered lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the +corpse with all three arms, she staggered with it to the extreme edge +of the gulf and, after an instant's hesitation, allowed it to drop +into the lava. It disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic +splash came up. That was Crimtyphon's funeral. + +"Now I am ready, Maskull." + +He did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing, +erect and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face +was wan, and there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew +that it was a phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at +Poolingdred. + +"Turn around, Tydomin," he said oddly, "and tell me what you see +behind you." + +"I don't see anything," she answered, looking around. + +"But I see Joiwind." + +Just as he was speaking, the apparition vanished. + +"Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it." + +The woman fingered her chin thoughtfully. + +"I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of my +own sex--but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?" + +"I really saw Krag." + +"Yes, some miracle must have taken place." She suddenly shivered. +"Come, let us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come here +again." + +"Yes," said Maskull, "it stinks of death and dying. But where are we +to go--what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get away from +this hellish land." + +Tydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an +abrupt, bitter little laugh. "We make our journey together in +singular stages. Rather than be alone, I'll come with you--but you +know that if I set foot in Sant they will kill me." + +"At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it +possible?" + +"If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you +not take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it +won't hold--your luck." + +"Let us start," said Maskull. "The luck I've had so far is nothing +to brag about." + +Blodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but +the heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence +at conversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The +land fell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward +Sant there was a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau +continued to dominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour +they seemed none the nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant. + +By and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted +Maskull's notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still +on, imbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches +sprang out, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to +twigs and leaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been +artificially fastened on, at equal distances from each other. + +As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident +vanity and self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was +so momentary that he could be sure of nothing. + +"What may that be, Tydomin?" + +"It is Hator's Trifork." + +"And what is its purpose?" + +"It's a guide to Sant." + +"But who or what is Hator?" + +"Hator was the founder of Sant--many thousands of years ago. He +laid down the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his +symbol. When I was a little child my father told me the legends, but +I've forgotten most of them." + +Maskull regarded it attentively. + +"Does it affect you in any way?" + +"And why should it do that?" she said, dropping her lip scornfully. +"I am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries." + +"A sort of gladness came over me," said Maskull, "but perhaps I am +mistaken." + +They passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The +solid parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became +narrower and more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or +upheavals. The peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be +giving place to a different order of things. + +Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in +the air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her +hand and began to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked +from a tree. Maskull, who had fasted since early morning, was not +slow in following her example. A sort of electric vigour at once +entered his limbs and body, his muscles regained their elasticity, +his heart began to beat with hard, slow, strong throbs. + +"Food and body seem to agree well in this world," he remarked +smiling. + +She glanced toward him. "Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, +but in your body." + +"I brought my body with me." + +"You brought your soul with you, but that's altering fast, too." + +In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but +possessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles +of a cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A +furry animal, somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them +in the most extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was +shocked to realise that the beast was not leaping at all, but was +being thrown from branch to branch by the volition of the tree, +exactly as an imprisoned mouse is thrown by a cat from paw to paw. + +He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest. + +"That's a gruesome reversal of roles, Tydomin." + +"One can see you're disgusted," she replied, stifling a yawn. "But +that is because you are a slave to words. If you called that plant +an animal, you would find its occupation perfectly natural and +pleasing. And why should you not call it an animal?" + +"I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I +shall go on listening to this sort of language." + +They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day +became overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the +sun changed into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at +without flinching. A chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently +it grew still darker, the sun disappeared and, glancing first at his +companion and then at himself, Maskull noticed that their skin and +clothing were coated by a kind of green hoarfrost. + +The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of +them, against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall +waterspouts gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They +were green and self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin +explained that they were not waterspouts at all, but mobile columns +of lightning. + +"Then they are dangerous?" + +"So we think," she answered, watching them closely. + +"Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion." + +Among the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking +with a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and +Tydomin. There was something unusual in his appearance--his form +looked extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real. + +"If there's danger, he ought to be warned," said Maskull. + +"He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing," returned the +woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the arm, and +continued to watch. + +The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained +unharmed, but turned sharply around, as if for the first time made +aware of the proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised +himself to his full height, and stretched both arms aloft above his +head, like a diver. He seemed to be addressing the columns. + +While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with +a series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. +He dropped his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and +stood still, waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of +his person grew more and more noticeable as they approached; his body +seemed to be composed of some substance heavier and denser than solid +matter. + +Tydomin looked perplexed. + +"He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. +This is a day of days for me." + +"He must be an individual of great importance," murmured Maskull. + +They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was +clothed in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to +the wind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to +streaming moisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it +was that of pale iron. There was no third arm. His face was harsh +and frowning, and a projecting chin pushed the beard forward. On his +forehead there were two flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no +sorb. These membranes were expressionless, but in some strange way +seemed to add vigour to the stem eyes underneath. When his glance +rested on Maskull, the latter felt as though his brain were being +thoroughly travelled through. The man was middle-aged. + +His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, +every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. +Tydomin's person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without +significance, and Maskull realised that it was no better with +himself. A queer, quickening fire began running through his veins. + +He turned to the woman. "If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear +him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high +time." + +"Let Tydomin come too." + +The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as +intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English. + +"You who know my name, also know my sex," said Tydomin quietly. "It +is death for me to enter Sant." + +"That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law." + +"Is it so--and will it be accepted?" + +"The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming +underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived." + +The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood +talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it. + +"What is your name?" asked Maskull, with a beating heart. + +"My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean +of space, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a +daughter of the despised sex, shall be my second." + +"The new law? But what is it?" + +"Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear? .... Come, both +of you, to me!" + +Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her +sorb and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own +eyes. When he removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was +transformed into twin membranes like Spadevil's own. + +Tydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while, +apparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her +eyes and, snatching up Spadevil's hand, she bent over and kissed it +hurriedly many times. + +"My past has been bad," she said. "Numbers have received harm from +me, and none good. I have killed and worse. But now I can throw all +that away, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, you +and I have been fools together!" + +"Don't you repent your crimes?" asked Maskull. + +"Leave the past alone," said Spadevil, "it cannot be reshaped. The +future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this very +minute. Why do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?" + +"What is the name of, those organs, and what is their function?" + +"They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new world." + +Maskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb. + +While the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law +quietly flowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream +of clean water which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive +will. The law was duty. + + + +Chapter 12 + +SPADEVIL + +Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of +their own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When +he used his eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented +themselves to him, but his judgment concerning them was different. +Previously all external things had existed for him; now he existed +for them. According to whether they served his purpose or were in +harmony with his nature, or otherwise, they had been pleasant or +painful. Now these words "pleasure" and "pain" simply had no +meaning. + +The other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted +with his new mental outlook. He smiled at them. + +"You were quite right, Tydomin," he said, in a bold, cheerful voice. +"We have been fools. So near the light all the time, and we never +guessed it. Always buried in the past or future--systematically +ignoring the present--and now it turns out that apart from the +present we have no life at all." + +"Thank Spadevil for it," she answered, more loudly than usual. + +Maskull looked at the man's dark, concrete form. "Spadevil, now I +mean to follow you to the end. I can do nothing less." + +The severe face showed no sign of gratification--not a muscle +relaxed. + +"Watch that you don't lose your gift," he said gruffly. + +Tydomin spoke. "You promised that I should enter Sant with you." + +"Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, +but the truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us +journey together, all three of us." + +The words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the +fine, driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He +walked with a long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order +to keep up with him. The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the +middle. The fog was so dense that it was impossible to see a hundred +yards ahead. The ground was covered by the green snow. The wind +blew in gusts from the Sant highlands and was piercingly cold. + +"Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?" asked Maskull. + +"He that is not more than a man is nothing." + +"Where have you now come from?" + +"From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I +have brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after +many months' absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me +in its simple splendour, like an upturned diamond." + +"I see its shining," said Maskull. "But how much does it owe to +ancient Hator?" + +"Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is +to me. Hator also was a brooder--but now his followers do not +brood. In Sant all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate +pleasure, and this hatred is the greatest pleasure to them." + +"But in what way have they fallen off from Hator's doctrines?" + +"For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare, +a limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, +mocking enemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of +life, in order to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the +soul, he shielded himself behind pain. This also his followers do, +but they do not do it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of +vanity and pride." + +"What is the Trifork?" + +"The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is +disentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is +power over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third +fork is the healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water." + +"From what land did Hator come?" + +"It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many +legends told of him while there." + +"We have a long way to go," said Tydomin. "Relate some of these +legends, Spadevil." + +The snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like +a phantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain. + +"In those days," said Spadevil, "there existed in Ifdawn a mountain +island separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A handsome +girl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across +which men and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn +Hator on to this rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until +it tumbled into the depths below. 'You and I, Hator, are now +together, and there is no means of separating. I wish to see how long +the famous frost man can withstand the breath, smiles and perfume of +a girl.' Hator said no word, either then or all that day. He stood +till sunset like a tree trunk, and thought of other things. Then the +girl grew passionate, and shook her curls. She rose from where she +was sitting she looked at him, and touched his arm; but he did not +see her. She looked at him, so that all the soul was in her eyes; +and then she fell down dead. Hator awoke from his thoughts, and saw +her lying, still warm, at his feet, a corpse. He passed to the +mainland; but how, it is not related." + +Tydomin shuddered. "You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; +but your method is a nobler one." + +"Don't pity other women," said Spadevil, "but love the right. Hator +also once conversed with Shaping." + +"With the Maker of the World?" said Maskull thoughtfully. + +"With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his +world, and tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. +But Hator, answering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, +iron words, showed how this joy and beauty was but another name for +the bestiality of souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping +smiled, and said, 'How comes it that your wisdom is greater than that +of the Master of wisdom?' Hator said, 'My wisdom does not come from +you, nor from your world, but from that other world, which you, +Shaping, have vainly tried to imitate.' Shaping replied, 'What, then, +do you do in my world?' Hator said, 'I am here falsely, and therefore +I am subject to your false pleasures. But I wrap myself in pain-- +not because it is good, but because I wish to keep myself as far from +you as possible. For pain is not yours, neither does it belong to +the other world, but it is the shadow cast by your false pleasures.' +Shaping then said, 'What is this faraway other world of which you say +"This is so--this is not so?" How happens it that you alone of all +my creatures have knowledge of it?' But Hator spat at his feet, and +said, 'You lie, Shaping. All have knowledge of it. You, with your +pretty toys, alone obscure it from our view.' Shaping asked, 'What, +then, am I?' Hator answered, 'You are the dreamer of impossible +dreams.' And then the story goes that Shaping departed, ill pleased +with what had been said." + +"What other world did Hator refer to?" asked Maskull. + +"One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here." + +"Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference," said Maskull. +"The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is mean and +corrupt-natured." + +"Guard you your pride!" returned Spadevil. "Do not make law for the +universe and for all time, but for yourself and for this small, false +life of yours." + +"In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?" asked +Tydomin. + +"He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last +hour. When he saw that death could not be staved off longer he +determined to destroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; +not from vanity, but that they might see to what lengths the human +soul can go in its perpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. +Standing erect, without support, he died by withholding his breath." + +A silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds +refused to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their +thoughts became frozen. + +When Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued +power, Maskull's curiosity rose once more. "Your fellow countrymen, +then, Spadevil, are sick with self-love?" + +"The men of other countries," said Spadevil, "are the slaves of +pleasure and desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are the +slaves of pleasure and desire, not knowing it." + +"And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has +something noble in it." + +"He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as +well as body can a man enter into true life." + +"On what grounds do they reject women?" + +"Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. +Love for another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore +injurious to him." + +"A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe," said Maskull. +"But will they allow it?" + +"Spadevil knows, Maskull," said Tydomin, "that be it today or be it +tomorrow, love can't be kept out of a land, even by the disciples of +Hator." + +"Beware of love--beware of emotion!" exclaimed Spadevil. "Love is +but pleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, but of +serving them." + +"Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine." + +"Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you are a +woman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul." + +"But where there are no women, there are no children," said Maskull. +"How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?" + +"Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the +yearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all +parts, in order to have the scars of their souls healed." + +"In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what +simple formula do you offer?" + +"Iron obedience to duty," answered Spadevil. + +"And if they ask 'How far is this consistent with hatred of +pleasure?' what will your pronouncement be?" + +"I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the +question. Hatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark +fires of self. Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one +side, calm and undisturbed." + +"What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, +in order to avoid it?" + +"Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise." + +Later in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on +Spadevil's arm. + +"Fearful doubts are in my mind," she said. "This expedition to Sant +may turn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, Spadevil, and myself +lying dead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not there." + +"We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others +will raise it." + +"Show me a sign that you are not as other men--so that I may know +that our blood will not be wasted." + +Spadevil regarded her sternly. "I am not a magician. I don't +persuade the senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, +Tydomin? Then go there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no +farther. Is not this simple? What signs are necessary?" + +"Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man +could have done that." + +"Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man +can do another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open +their eyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my +life. Will you not still accompany me?" + +"Yes," said Tydomin, "I will follow you to the end. It is all the +more essential, because I keep on displeasing you with my remarks, +and that means I have not yet learned my lesson properly." + +"Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we +are thinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be +planning or shaping in our mind." + +Tydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied. + +"Why was Maskull not in the picture?" she asked. + +"You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. +There is nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is +only right and wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does +not matter. We are not gods, constructing a world, but simple men +and women, doing our immediate duty. We may die in Sant--so you +have seen it; but the truth will go on living." + +"Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?" asked +Maskull. "These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least likely of +any to follow a new light." + +"Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no +tree at all can be found, nothing will grow." + +"I understand you," said Maskull. "Here perhaps we are going to +martyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to cattle." + +Shortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland +plain, above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A +dizzy, artificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand +steps of varying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to +the angles of the precipices, led to the world overhead. In the +place where they stood they were sheltered from the cutting winds. +Branchspell, radiantly shining at last, but on the point of sinking, +filled the cloudy sky with violent, lurid colors, some of the +combinations of which were new to Maskull. The circle of the horizon +was so gigantic, that had he been suddenly carried back to Earth, he +would by comparison have fancied himself to be moving beneath the +dome of some little, closed-in cathedral. He realised that he was on +a foreign planet. But he was not stirred or uplifted by the +knowledge; he was conscious only of moral ideas. Looking backward, +he saw the plain, which for several miles past had been without +vegetation, stretching back away to Disscourn. So regular had been +the ascent, and so great was the distance, that the huge pyramid +looked nothing more than a slight swelling on the face of the earth. + +Spadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the +evening sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever +before. His features were set hard in grimness. + +He turned around to his companions. "What is the greatest wonder, in +all this wonderful scene?" he demanded. + +"Acquaint us," said Maskull. + +"All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure +to pleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping's world." + +"There is another wonder," said Tydomin, and she pointed her finger +toward the sky overhead. + +A small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five +hundred feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall +of cliff. It was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with +downward-pointing fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and +one or two tiny cloudlets beneath the fingers looked like falling +drops of blood. + +"Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?" said Tydomin. +"I have been close to death twice today. The first time I was ready, +but now I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the man +who has given me my first happiness." + +"Do not think of death, but of right persistence," replied Spadevil. +"I am not here to tremble before Shaping's portents; but to snatch +men from him." + +He at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed +upward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her +eyes. Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull +climbed last. He was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but +his soul was at peace. As they steadily ascended the almost +perpendicular stairs, the sun got higher in the sky. Its light dyed +their bodies a ruddy gold. + +They gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as +far as the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here +and there by large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand +were reddened by the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled +by evil-shaped clouds and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying +across the desert, drove the fine particles of sand painfully against +their faces. + +"Where now do you take us?" asked Maskull. + +"He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to me, +that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find +Maulger." + +"And where will you seek him, in this bare country?" + +Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly. + +"It is not so far," he said. "It is his custom to be in that part +where Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be there, +but I cannot say." + +Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark +circles beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness. + +"The woman is tired, Spadevil," he said. + +She smiled, "It's but another step into the land of death. I can +manage it. Give me your arm, Maskull." + +He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way. + +"The sun is now sinking," said Maskull. "Will we get there before +dark?" + +"Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil +in your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We +shall arrive before dark." + +The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed +the western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into +more vivid colors. The wind grew colder. + +They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of +which were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It +was hard, bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, +but he felt braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. +No other trees or shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals +appeared, no birds or insects. It was a desolate land. + +A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the +plateau. Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest +began. But daylight had vanished there; Maskull's eyes rested only +on a vague darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant +sighing of innumerable treetops. + +In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He +was standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden +him from their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A +trifork, similar to the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but +smaller, had been stuck in the mud close by his hand. + +They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he +became aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and +waded out of the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing +so. + +"This is not Maulger, but Catice," said Spadevil. + +"Maulger is dead," said Catice, speaking the same tongue as Spadevil, +but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull's +ear was affected painfully. + +The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in +years. He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long +and heavy, but his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, +lemon-coloured, and anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number +of longitudinal ruts, a quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of +which seemed clogged with ancient dirt. The hair of his head was +black and sparse. Instead of the twin membranous organs of Spadevil, +he possessed but one; and this was in the centre of his brow. + +Spadevil's dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality +among dreams. + +"Has the trifork passed to you?" he demanded. + +"Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?" + +"I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith." + +Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. "State it." + +"Shall I speak with many words, or few words?" + +"If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. If you +wish to say what is, a few words will be enough." + +Spadevil frowned. + +"To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To +kill pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is +planning right action, it has no time to think of pleasure." + +"Is that the whole?" asked Catice. + +"The truth is simple, even for the simplest man." + +"Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?" + +"I destroy nature, and set up law." + +A long silence followed. + +"My probe is double," said Spadevil. "Suffer me to double yours, and +you will see as I see." + +"Come you here, you big man!" said Catice to Maskull. Maskull +advanced a step closer. + +"Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?" + +"As far as death," exclaimed Maskull. + +Catice picked up a flint. "With this stone I strike out one of your +two probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you +will recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, +and I shall obey your choice." + +"Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men," said +Spadevil. + +"The pain is nothing," replied Maskull, "but I fear the result." + +"Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice," +said Tydomin, stretching out her hand. + +He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to +thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. "What brings this kiss- +lover to Sant?" he said. "How does she presume to make the rules of +life for the sons of Hator?" + +She bit her lip, and stepped back. "Well then, Maskull, accept! I +certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly +can." + +"If he bids me, I must do it," said Maskull. "But who knows what +will come of it?" + +Spadevil spoke. "Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most +wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, +thinking me a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this +land. But a seed will escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will +wash it. Then men will know that my destroying evil is their +greatest good. But none here will live to see that." + +Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice +raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, +brought it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. +Maskull cried out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the +function of the organ was destroyed. + +There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the +blood. + +"What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?" inquired Tydomin +anxiously. + +He stopped, and stared hard at her. "I now see straight," he said +slowly. + +"What does that mean?" + +He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked +troubled. "Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my +nature, and refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the +same." + +Spadevil gazed at him sternly. "Do you renounce my teaching?" + +Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil's +image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face +he knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect. + +"It is false." + +"Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?" demanded Tydomin. + +"I can't argue as yet," said Maskull. "At this moment the world with +its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I feel a loathing +for everything in it, including myself. I know no more." + +"Is there no duty?" asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone. + +"It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of +other people." + +Tydomin pulled at Spadevil's arm. "Maskull has betrayed you, as he +has so many others. Let us go." + +He stood fast. "You have changed quickly, Maskull." + +Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. "Why do men go on +living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?" + +"Pain is the native air of Surtur's children. To what other air do +you wish to escape?" + +"Surtur's children? Is not Surtur Shaping?" + +"It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping's masterpiece." + +"Answer, Maskull!" said Spadevil. "Do you repudiate right action?" + +"Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. +I wish you no harm." + +The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence. + +Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. "The woman +must return home," he said. + +"She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, +must die--backslider as you are!" + +Tydomin said quietly, "He has no power to enforce this. Are you +going to allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?" + +"It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from +death. Catice, I accept your judgment." + +Tydomin smiled. "For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, +so I shall die with him." + +Catice said to Maskull, "Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his +mistress, according to the laws of Hator." + +"I can't do that. I have travelled in friendship with them." + +"You denied duty; and now you must do your duty," said Spadevil, +calmly stroking his beard. "Whatever law you accept, You must obey, +without turning to right or left. Your law commands that we must be +stoned; and it will soon be dark." + +"Have you not even this amount of manhood?" exclaimed Tydomin. + +Maskull moved heavily. "Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was +forced on me." + +"Hator is looking on, and approving," replied Catice. + +Maskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side +of the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments +of rock, the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in +his arms, he staggered back. + +He dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. +When he could speak again, he said, "I have a bad heart for the +business. Is there no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, +and in the morning go back to where you have come from. No one shall +harm you." + +Spadevil's ironic smile was lost in the gloom. + +"Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after that +come back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose +the heavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin." + +Maskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces. +Spadevil confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly. + +The huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a +dark shadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his +features, and breaking his neck. He died instantaneously. + +Tydomin looked away from the fallen man. + +"Be very quick, Maskull, and don't let me keep him waiting." + +He panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front +of Spadevil's body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold. + +The blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull +went to her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his +arms. There she breathed out her last sighs. + +After that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands, +while he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic, +spiritual expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman +came like a flash; but he saw it. + +He stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him. + +"Is that the true likeness of Shaping?" + +"It is Shaping stripped of illusion." + +"How comes this horrible world to exist?" + +Catice did not answer. + +"Who is Surtur?" + +"You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here." + +"I am wading through too much blood," said Maskull. "Nothing good +can come of it." + +"Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy." + +Maskull meditated. + +"Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you +really have accepted his faith?" + +"He was a great-souled man," replied Catice. "I see that the pride +of our men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I +too shall leave Sant, to reflect on all this." + +Maskull shuddered. "Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but +a crime!" + +"His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged +down his ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, +stranger, but go away at once out of the land." + +"Tonight? Where shall I go?" + +"To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you +on the way." + +He linked his arm in Maskull's, and they walked away into the night. +For a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind +was searching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of +the clouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no +familiar constellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was +visible, and if so which one it was. + +They came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the +cliffside. It resembled the one by which he had come up; but this +descended to the Wombflash Forest. + +"That is your path," said Catice, "and I shall not come any +farther." + +Maskull detained him. "Say just this, before we part company--why +does pleasure appear so shameful to us?" + +"Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home." + +"And that is--" + +"Muspel," answered Catice. + +Having made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back, +disappeared into the darkness. + +Maskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired, +but contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to +discharge matter. He lowered himself from step to step during what +seemed an interminable time. The rustling and sighing of the trees +grew louder as he approached the bottom; the air became still and +warm. + +He at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he +began to trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After +this had happened a few times, he determined to go no farther that +night. He heaped together some dry leaves for a pillow, and +immediately flung himself down to sleep. Deep and heavy +unconsciousness seized him almost instantly. + + + +Chapter 13 + +THE WOMBFLASH FOREST + +He awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on +his side, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like +night, but that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to +break and objects begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or +three amazing shadowy shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of +the twilight. He did not realise that they were trees, until he +turned over on his back and followed their course upward. Far +overhead, so high up that he dared not calculate the height, he saw +their tops glittering in the sunlight, against a tiny patch of blue +sky. + +Clouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept +interrupting his view. In their silent passage they were like +phantoms flitting among the trees. The leaves underneath him were +sodden, and heavy drops of moisture splashed onto his head from time +to time. + +He continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the +preceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something +terrible had happened, but what it was he could not for a long time +recollect. Then suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly +closing scene at dusk on the Sant plateau--Spadevil's crushed and +bloody features and Tydomin's dying sighs.... He shuddered +convulsively, and felt sick. + +The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had +departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had +done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have been +labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had +enslaved him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They +had forced him to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had +imagined that he was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger. +What was this nightmare journey for--and would it continue, in the +same way? ... + +The silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound +except the pumping of blood through his arteries. + +Putting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had +disappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third +eye was on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not +guess its use. He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless. + +Now he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to +recall that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice. + +He got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no +toilet to make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. +The nearest tree appeared to him to have a circumference of at least +a hundred feet. Other dim boles looked equally large. But what gave +the scene its aspect of immensity was the vast spaces separating tree +from tree. It was like some gigantic, supernatural hall in a life +after death. The lowest branches were fifty yards or more from the +ground. There was no underbrush; the soil was carpeted only by the +dead, wet leaves. He looked all around him, to find his direction, +but the cliffs of Sant, which he had descended, were invisible-- +every way was like every other way, he had no idea which quarter to +attack. He grew frightened, and muttered to himself. Craning his +neck back, he stared upward and tried to discover the points of the +compass from the direction of the sunlight, but it was impossible. + +While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the +drum taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. +The unseen drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away +from him. + +"Surtur!" he said, under his breath. The next moment he marvelled at +himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not been in +his thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him and +the drumming. + +He began to reflect--but in the meantime the sounds were travelling +away. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The +drum beats had this peculiarity--though odd and mystical, there was +nothing awe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him +of some place and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. +Once again they caused all his other sense impressions to appear +false. + +The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for +five minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. +Maskull followed them as well as he could. He walked hard among the +huge, indistinct trees, in the attempt to come up with the origin of +the noise, but the same distance always seemed to separate them. The +forest from now onward descended. The gradient was mostly gentle-- +about one foot in ten--but in some places it was much steeper, and +in other parts again it was practically level ground for quite long +stretches. There were great swampy marshes, through which Maskull +was obliged to splash. It was a matter of indifference to him how +wet he became--if only he could catch sight of that individual with +the drum. Mile after mile was covered, and still he was no nearer to +doing so. + +The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt +despondent, tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for +some while, and was half inclined to discontinue the pursuit. + +Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled +against a man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning +against the trunk with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other +hand was resting on a staff. Maskull stopped short and started at +him. + +He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull +by a head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes-- +three in number--were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. +His skin was hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in +thick, black coils, and fastened like a woman's. His features were +absolutely tranquil, but a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just +underneath the surface. + +Maskull addressed him. "Did the drumming come from you?" + +The man shook his head. + +"What is your name?" + +He replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered +that the name he gave was "Dreamsinter." + +"What is that drumming?" + +"Surtur," said Dreamsinter. + +"Is it advisable for me to follow it?" + +"Why?" + +"Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth." + +Dreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face. +"Not you, but Nightspore." + +This was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore's name +since his arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could +frame no more questions. + +"Eat this," said Dreamsinter. "Then we will chase the sound +together." He picked something up from the ground and handed it to +Maskull. He could not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round +nut, of the size of a fist. + +"I can't crack it." + +Dreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. +Maskull then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely +disagreeable. + +"What am I doing in Tormance, then?" he asked. + +"You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men--never +doubting if your soul could endure that burning." + +Maskull could hardly decipher the strangled words. + +"Muspel.... That's the name I've been trying to remember ever since +I awoke." + +Dreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen +for something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet. + +"Is it the drumming?" + +"Hush! They come." + +He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm +was heard--this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet. + +Maskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, +three men in single file separated from one another by only a yard or +so. They were travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked +neither to left nor right. They were naked. Their figures were +shining against the black background of the forest with a pale, +supernatural light--green and ghostly. When they were abreast of +him, about twenty feet off, he perceived who they were. The first +man was himself--Maskull. The second was Krag. The third man was +Nightspore. Their faces were grim and set. + +The source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to +come from some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put +themselves in motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. +At the same time a low, faint music began. + +Its rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it +did not seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. +It resembled the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies +the dreamer everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering +all his experiences emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly +orchestra, and was strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull +marched, and listened; and as he listened, it grew louder and +stormier. But the pulse of the drum interpenetrated all the other +sounds, like the quiet beating of reality. + +His emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours +were passing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way +ahead, on a path parallel with his own and Dreamsinter's. The music +pulsated violently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, +murderous-looking knife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the +phantom Maskull's back, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the +wound the second time. Maskull threw up his arms, and fell down +dead. Krag leaped into the forest and vanished from sight. +Nightspore marched on alone, stern and unmoved. + +The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was +roaring with sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from +the ground under their feet. It was so grandly passionate that +Maskull felt his soul loosening from its bodily envelope. + +He continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to +glow in front of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as +he had never seen before, and such as he could not have imagined to +be possible. Nightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his +chest bursting. The light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of +the music followed hard one upon another, like the waves of a wild, +magic ocean.... His body was incapable of enduring such shocks, and +all of a sudden he tumbled over in a faint that resembled death. + + + +Chapter 14 + +POLECRAB + +The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, +and opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and +silent in the forest. The strange light had gone, the music had +ceased, Dreamsinter had vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted +with Tydomin's blood, and fell into a deep muse. + +"According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. +Perhaps Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen +was a specimen of his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my +question.... I ought not to have asked about myself, but about +Surtur. Then I would have got a different answer. I might have +learned something... I might have seen him." + +He remained quiet and apathetic for a bit. + +"But I couldn't face that awful glare," he proceeded. "It was +bursting my body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does really +exist, and my journey stands for something. But why am I here, and +what can I do? Who is Surtur? Where is he to be found?" + +Something wild came into his eyes. + +"What did Dreamsinter mean by his 'Not you, but Nightspore'? Am I a +secondary character--is he regarded as important; and I as +unimportant? Where is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to +wait for his time and pleasure--can I originate nothing?" + +He continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs. + +"I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the +strangest things will happen in it. It's no use making plans, for I +can't see two steps ahead--everything is unknown. But one thing's +evident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and +I must sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur +shows himself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means +death." + +Through the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came +again. The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the +last mutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, +without getting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not +return. + +He smiled queerly, and said aloud, "Thanks, Surtur! I accept the +omen." + +When he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that +had been his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every +movement of his body. He made perforations in it all around, as +close to his chest as possible, with the fingernails of both hands; +then he carefully twisted it off. In that world of rapid growth and +ungrowth he judged that the stump would soon disappear. After that, +he rose and peered into the darkness. + +The forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking +twice about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it +would bring him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper +became gloomy and morose--he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid +with hunger; moreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be +a short one. Be that as it may, he determined to sit down no more +until the whole dismal forest was at his back. + +One after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, +avoided, and passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky +was still always visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of +day. He continued tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, +slippery miles--in some places through bogs. When, presently, the +twilight seemed to thin, he guessed that the open world was not far +away. The forest grew more palpable and grey, and now he saw its +majesty better. The tree trunks were like round towers, and so wide +were the intervals that they resembled natural amphitheatres. He +could not make out the colour of the bark. Everything he saw amazed +him, but his admiration was of the growling, grudging kind. The +difference in light between the forest behind him and the forest +ahead became so marked that he could no longer doubt that he was on +the point of coming out. + +Real light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a +shadow. The trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. +As the minutes went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and +vivid; it had a tinge of blue. He also imagined that he heard the +sound of surf. + +All that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich +with colour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their +leaves, high above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the +ground were of a colour he could not name. At the same time he +discovered the use of his third eye. By adding a third angle to his +sight, every object he looked at stood out in greater relief. The +world looked less flat--more realistic and significant. He had a +stronger attraction toward his surroundings; he seemed somehow to +lose his egotism, and to become free and thoughtful. + +Now through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a +mile separated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to +discover what lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf +louder. It was a peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from +water, yet was unlike the sea. Almost immediately he came within +sight of an enormous horizon of dancing waves, which he knew must be +the Sinking Sea. He fell back into a quick walk, continuing to stare +hard. The wind that met him was hot, fresh and sweet. + +When he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide +sands of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his +back to a great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in +front of him. The sands continued east and west in a straight line, +broken only here and there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant +orange colour, but there were patches of violet. The forest appeared +to stand sentinel over the shore for its entire length. Everything +else was sea and sky--he had never seen so much water. The +semicircle of the skyline was so vast that he might have imagined +himself on a flat world, with a range of vision determined only by +the power of his eye. The sea was unlike any sea on Earth. It +resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body colour of rich, +magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and blue were +everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was +extraordinary. Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they +attained a height of perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would +suddenly sink downward and outward, creating in their descent a +series of concentric rings for long distances around them. Quickly +moving currents, like rivers in the sea, could be seen, racing away +from land; they were of a darker green and bore no pinnacles. Where +the sea met the shore, the waves rushed over the sands far in, with +almost sinister rapidity--accompanied by a weird, hissing, spitting +sound, which was what Maskull had heard. The green tongues rolled in +without foam. + +About twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a +long, low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished +in outline. It was Swaylone's Island. Maskull was less interested in +that than in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain +had set, but the whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by +its afterlight. Branchspell in the zenith was white and +overpowering, the day was cloudless and terrifically hot; but where +the blue sun had sunk, a sombre shadow seemed to overhang the world. +Maskull had a feeling of disintegration--just as if two chemically +distinct forces were simultaneously acting upon the cells of his +body. Since the afterglow of Alppain affected him like this, he +thought it more than likely that he would never be able to face that +sun itself, and go on living. Still, some modification might happen +to him that would make it possible. + +The sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once +walked toward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow +line of the forest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on +him so savagely that for a few minutes he felt sick and his head +swam. He trod quickly across the sands. The orange-coloured parts +were nearly hot enough to roast food, he judged, but the violet parts +were like fire itself. He stepped on a patch in ignorance, and +immediately jumped high into the air with a startled yell. + +The sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he +determined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin +garment, washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the +sun to dry. Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed +out his beard and hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until +the water reached his breast, and took to swimming--avoiding the +spouts as far as possible He found it no pastime. The water was +everywhere of unequal density. In some places he could swim, in +others he could barely save himself from drowning, in others again he +could not force himself beneath the surface at all. There were no +outward signs to show what the water ahead held in store for him. +The whole business was most dangerous. + +He came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up +and down the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking +around him. He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical +world, and whichever way he turned, unknown and threatening forces +were glaring at him. The gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the +awful, body-changing Alppain, the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, +the dark and eerie Swaylone's Island, the spirit-crushing forest out +of which he had just escaped--to all these mighty powers, +surrounding him on every side, what resources had he, a feeble, +ignorant traveller to oppose, from a tiny planet on the other side of +space, to avoid being utterly destroyed? ... Then he smiled to +himself. "I've already been here two days, and still I survive. I +have luck--and with that one can balance the universe. But what is +luck--a verbal expression, or a thing?" + +As he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to +him, and this time he was grave. "Surtur brought me here, and Surtur +is watching over me. That is my 'luck.'... But what is Surtur in +this world? ... How is he able to protect me against the blind and +ungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature? ..." + +Hungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, +for he wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself +which way he should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along +the shore, either east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, +cutting the sands about a mile away. He walked toward it. + +The forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so +squarely turned to the sea that it looked as though it had been +planed by tools. Maskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but +kept his head constantly turned away from them, toward the sea-- +there it was more cheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to +be broad and flat-banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. +Its still, dark green water curved around a bend out of sight, into +the forest. The trees on both banks overhung the water, so that it +was completely in shadow. + +He went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach +appeared. A man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet +in the water. He was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his +limbs bare. He was short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a +long, powerful arms, terminating in hands of an extraordinary size. +He was oldish. His face was plain, slablike, and expressionless; it +was full of wrinkles, and walnut-coloured. Both face and head were +bald, and his skin was tough and leathery. He seemed to be some sort +of peasant, or fisherman; there was no trace in his face of thought +for others, or delicacy of feeling. He possessed three eyes, of +different colors--jade-green, blue, and ulfire. + +In front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an +elementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded +together. + +Maskull addressed him. "Are you another of the wise men of the +Wombflash Forest?" + +The man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did +so. "I'm a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom." + +"What name do you go by?" + +"Polecrab. What's yours?" + +"Maskull. If you're a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I'm +famishing." + +Polecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering. + +"There's fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. It's +easy enough to get you some more." + +Maskull found this a pleasant speech. + +"But how long will it take?" he asked. + +The man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill, +screeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered +onto the bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came +crawling up to his feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, +like a dog. It was about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a +small seal, but had six legs, ending in strong claws. + +"Arg, go fish!" said Polecrab hoarsely. + +The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam +gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath +the surface, where it remained a great while. + +"Simple fishing," remarked Maskull. "But what's the raft for?" + +"To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are +eatable." + +"That arg seems a highly intelligent creature." + +Polecrab grunted again. "I've trained close on a hundred of them. +The bigheads learn best, but they're slow swimmers. The narrowheads +swim like eels, but can't be taught. Now I've started interbreeding +them--he's one of them." + +"Do you live here alone?" + +"No, I've got a wife and three boys. My wife's sleeping somewhere, +but where the lads are, Shaping knows." + +Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated +being. + +"The raft's all crazy," he remarked, staring at it. "If you go far +out in that, you've got more pluck than I have." + +"I've been to Matterplay on it," said Polecrab. + +The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time +clumsily, as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. +When it landed at its master's feet, they saw that each set of claws +was clutching a fish--six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He +proceeded to cut off the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone +which he picked up; these he threw to the arg, which devoured them +without any fuss. + +Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish, +walked toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When +they reached the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and +digging a shallow hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the +remainder of the carcasses in it, and covered them over again. Then +he dug up his own dinner. Maskull's nostrils quivered at the savoury +smell, but he was not yet to dine. + +Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, +"These are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back +and join me, supposing you want company." + +"How soon will that be?" + +"About twenty minutes," replied the fisherman, over his shoulder. + +Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. +When the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, +scorching his fingers in the operation, although it was only the +surface of the sand which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to +Polecrab. + +In the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched +in silence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back +again. With every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He +finished before Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no +value. When he had done, he stood up. + +"Come and drink," he said, in his husky voice. + +Maskull looked at him inquiringly. + +The man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up +to a certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had +been tapped and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth +to the aperture, sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its +mother's breast. Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his +eyes growing brighter. + +When his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree +somewhat like coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a +new sort of intoxication, however, for neither his will not his +emotions were excited, but only his intellect--and that only in a +certain way. His thoughts and images were not freed and loosened, but +on the contrary kept labouring and swelling painfully, until they +reached the full beauty of an aperu, which would then flame up in +his consciousness, burst, and vanish. After that, the whole process +started over again. But there was never a moment when he was not +perfectly cool, and master of his senses. When each had drunk twice, +Polecrab replugged the hole, and they returned to their bank. + +"Is it Blodsombre yet?" asked Maskull, sprawling on the ground, well +content. + +Polecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in +the water. "Just beginning," was his hoarse response. + +"Then I must stay here till it's over.... Shall we talk?" + +"We can," said the other, without enthusiasm. + +Maskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were +exactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a +wise light. + +"Have you travelled much, Polecrab?" + +"Not what you would call travelling." + +"You tell me you've been to Matterplay--what kind of country is +that?" + +"I don't know. I went there to pick up flints." + +"What countries lie beyond it?" + +"Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it's a land of +mystics... I don't know." + +"Mystics?" + +"So I'm told.... Still farther north there's Lichstorm." + +"Now we're going far afield." + +"There are mountains there--and altogether it must be a very +dangerous place, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take +care of yourself." + +"This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I'm going +there?" + +"As you've come from the south, I suppose you'll go north." + +"Well, that's right enough," said Maskull, staring hard at him. "But +how do you know I've come from the south?" + +"Well, then, perhaps you haven't--but there's a look of Ifdawn about +you." + +"What kind of look?" + +"A tragical look," said Polecrab. He never even glanced at Maskull, +but was gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes. + +"What lies beyond Lichstorm?" asked Maskull, after a minute or two. + +"Barey, where you have two suns instead of one--but beyond that fact +I know nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean." + +"And what's on the other side of the ocean?" + +"That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has ever +crossed it and come back." + +Maskull was silent for a little while. + +"How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the +only one travelling from curiosity." + +"What do you mean by 'your people'?" + +"True--you don't know that I don't belong to your planet at all. +I've come from another world, Polecrab." + +"What to find?" + +"I came here with Krag and Nightspore--to follow Surtur. I must have +fainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the +others had--vanished. Since then I've been travelling at random." + +Polecrab scratched his nose. "You haven't found Surtur yet?" + +"I've heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this morning I +came quite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, I +saw a vision--a being in man's shape, who called himself Surtur." + +"Well, maybe it was Surtur." + +"No, that's impossible," replied Maskull reflectively. "It was +Crystalman. And it isn't a question of my suspecting it--I know +it." + +"How?" + +"Because this is Crystalman's world, and Surtur's world is something +quite different." + +"That's queer, then," said Polecrab. + +"Since I've come out of that forest," proceeded Maskull, talking half +to himself, "a change has come over me, and I see things differently. +Everything here looks much more solid and real in my eyes than in +other places so much so that I can't entertain the least doubt of its +existence. It not only looks real, it is real--and on that I would +stake my life.... But at the same time that it's real, it is false." + +"Like a dream?" + +"No--not at all like a dream, and that's just what I want to +explain. This world of yours--and perhaps of mine too, for that +matter--doesn't give me the slightest impression of a dream, or an +illusion, or anything of that sort. I know it's really here at this +moment, and it's exactly as we're seeing it, you and I. Yet it's +false. It's false in this sense, Polecrab. Side by side with it +another world exists, and that other world is the true one, and this +one is all false and deceitful, to the very core. And so it occurs +to me that reality and falseness are two words for the same thing." + +"Perhaps there is such another world," said Polecrab huskily. "But +did that vision also seem real and false to you?" + +"Very real, but not false then, for then I didn't understand all +this. But just because it was real, it couldn't have been Surtur, +who has no connection with reality." + +"Didn't those drum taps sound real to you?" + +"I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. +Still, they were somehow different, and they certainly came from +Surtur. If I didn't hear them correctly, that was my fault and not +his." + +Polecrab growled a little. "If Surtur chooses to speak to you in +that fashion, it appears he's trying to say something." + +"What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what's your opinion--is he +calling me to the life after death?" + +The old man stirred uneasily. "I'm a fisherman," he said, after a +minute or two. "I live by killing, and so does everybody. This life +seems to me all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is wrong, and +Surtur's world is not life at all, but something else." + +"Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?" + +"Ask the dead," said Polecrab, "and not a living man." + +Maskull continued. "In the forest I heard music and saw a light, +which could not have belonged to this world. They were too strong +for my senses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a +vision as well, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked +on toward the light, alone." + +Polecrab uttered his grunt. "You have enough to think over." + +A short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull. + +"So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it +may come to my putting an end to myself." The fisherman remained +quiet and immobile. + +Maskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared +at him. "What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, +while in the body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I +have done?" + +"I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can't say. Perhaps there are +many others like you who would gladly know." + +"Where? I should like to meet them." + +"Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of +another stuff?" + +"I can't be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out +toward Muspel, in most cases without being aware of it." + +"In the wrong direction," said Polecrab. + +Maskull gave him a strange look. "How so?" + +"I don't speak from my own wisdom," said Polecrab, "for I have none; +but I have just now recalled what Broodviol once told me, when I was +a young man, and he was an old one. He said that Crystalman tries to +turn all things into one, and that whichever way his shapes march, in +order to escape from him, they find themselves again face to face +with Crystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this +marching of shapes (which we call 'forking') springs from the +unconscious desire to find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction +to the right one. For Surtur's world does not lie on this side of +the one, which was the beginning of life, but on the other side; and +to get to it we must repass through the one. But this can only be by +renouncing our self-life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of +Crystalman's world. And when this has been done, it is only the +first stage of the journey; though many good men imagine it to be the +whole journey.... As far as I can remember, that is what Broodviol +said, but perhaps, as I was then a young and ignorant man, I may have +left out words which would explain his meaning better." + +Maskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained +thoughtful at the end. + +"It's plain enough," he said. "But what did he mean by our reuniting +ourselves to Crystalman's world? If it is false, are we to make +ourselves false as well?" + +"I didn't ask him that question, and you are as well qualified to +answer it as I am." + +"He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a +false, private world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and +distorted perceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly +lose nothing in truth and reality." + +Polecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and +stretched his limbs. + +"I have told you all I know," he said in a surly voice. "Now let me +go to sleep." + +Maskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man +let himself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest. + +While he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall +sounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest. +Maskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at +once guessed that it was Polecrab's wife. He sat up, but the +fisherman did not stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, +looking down from what appeared a great height. + +Her dress was similar to her husband's, but covered her limbs more. +She was young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was +lightly tanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. +Refinement was stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of +expression for a woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great +eyes kept flashing and glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow +hair, coiled up and fastened, but so carelessly that some of the +strands were flowing down her back. + +When she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and +shades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far +away from it. + +"Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation," she said, +addressing Maskull. "I was resting behind the tree, and heard it +all." + +He got up slowly. "Are you Polecrab's wife?" + +"She is my wife," said Polecrab, "and her name is Gleameil. Sit down +again, stranger--and you too, wife, since you are here." + +They both obeyed. "I heard everything," repeated Gleameil. "But +what I did not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after you +have left us." + +"I know no more than you do." + +"Listen, then. There's only one place for you to go to, and that is +Swaylone's Island. I will ferry you across myself before sunset." + +"What shall I find there?" + +"He may go, wife," put in the old man hoarsely, "but I won't allow +you to go. I will take him over myself." + +"No, you have always put me off," said Gleameil, with some emotion. +"This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and I sit on +the shore here, listening to Earthrid's music travelling faintly +across the sea, I am tortured--I can't endure it.... I have long +since made up my mind to go to the island, and see what this music +is. If it's bad, if it kills me--well." + +"What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?" demanded +Maskull. + +"I think the music will answer all your questions better than +Polecrab has done--and possibly in a way that will surprise you." + +"What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the +sea?" + +"A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And +the man that can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to +conjure up the most astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but +realities." + +"That may be so," growled Polecrab. "But I have been to the island +by daylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and +ancient. Those are Earthrid's victims. And you, wife, shall not +go." + +"But will that music play tonight?" asked Maskull. + +"Yes," replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. "When Teargeld +rises, which is our moon." + +"If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death +is due. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. +But as for taking you with me, Gleameil--women die too easily in +Tormance. I have only just now washed myself clean of the death blood +of another woman." + +Gleameil laughed, but said nothing. + +"Now go to sleep," said Polecrab. "When the time comes, I will take +you across myself." + +He lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his +example; but Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under +her. + +"Who was that other woman, Maskull?" she asked presently. + +He did not answer, but pretended to sleep. + + + +Chapter 15 + +SWALONE'S ISLAND + +When he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late +afternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and +another meal of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him. + +"Is it decided who is to go with me?" he asked, before sitting down. + +"I go," said Gleameil. + +"Do you agree, Polecrab?" + +The fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the +others to take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering. + +"Something strong is attracting her, and I can't hold her back. I +don't think I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are now nearly +old enough to fend for themselves." + +"Don't take dejected views," replied Gleameil sternly. She was not +eating. "I shall come back, and make amends to you. It's only for a +night." + +Maskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. "Let me go alone. +I would be sorry if anything happened." + +Gleameil shook her head. + +"Don't regard this as a woman's caprice," she said. "Even if you +hadn't passed this way, I would have heard that music soon. I have a +hunger for it." + +"Haven't you any such feeling, Polecrab?" + +"No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are +attractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since +she is set on it. Maybe she's right. Perhaps Earthrid's music will +answer your questions, and hers too." + +"What are your questions, Gleameil?" + +The woman shed a strange smile. "You may be sure that a question +which requires music for an answer can't be put into words." + +"If you are not back by the morning," remarked her husband, "I will +know you are dead." + +The meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his +mouth, and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket. + +"Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?" She +considered a moment. + +"Yes--yes, I must see them." + +He put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise +passed through the air. + +A few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the +boys were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with +curiosity at the first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest +boy was carrying the youngest on his back, while the third trotted +some distance behind. The child was let down, and all the three +formed a semicircle in front of Maskull, standing staring up at him +with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked on stolidly, but Gleameil +glanced away from them, with proudly raised head and a baffling +expression. + +Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five +years, respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. +The eldest was tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his +brothers, was naked, and his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. +His facial muscles indicated a wild and daring nature, and his eyes +were like green fires. The second showed promise of being a broad, +powerful man. His head was large and heavy, and drooped. His face +and skin were reddish. His eyes were almost too sombre and +penetrating for a child's. + +"That one," said Polecrab, pinching the boy's ear, "may perhaps grow +up to be a second Broodviol." + +"Who was that?" demanded the boy, bending his head forward to hear +the answer. + +"A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up +his mind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself." + +"If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about +him." + +"That would not have mattered," replied the father. + +The youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His +face was mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this +peculiarity about it, that every few minutes, without any apparent +cause, it would wrinkle up and look perplexed. At these times his +eyes, which were of a tawny gold, seemed to contain secrets difficult +to associate with one of his age. + +"He puzzles me," said Polecrab. "He has a soul like sap, and he's +interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most remarkable of +the bunch." + +Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his +head. He took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy +never changed countenance. + +"What do you make of him?" asked the fisherman. + +"It's on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. Let me +drink again, and then I shall have it." + +"Go and drink, then." + +Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. "In ages to +come," he said, speaking deliberately, "he will be a grand and awful +tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him +well." + +The eldest boy looked scornful. "I want to be none of those things. +I would like to be like that big fellow." And he pointed his finger +at Maskull. + +He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. "Thanks +for the compliments old warrior!" he said. + +"He's great and brawny" continued the boy, "and can hold his own with +other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you did that child?" + +Maskull complied. + +"That is being a man!" exclaimed the boy. "Enough!" said Polecrab +impatiently. "I called you lads here to say goodbye to your mother. +She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, but we +don't know." + +The second boy's face became suddenly inflamed. "Is she going of her +own choice?" he inquired. + +"Yes," replied the father. + +"Then she is bad." He brought the words out with such force and +emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip. + +The old man cuffed him twice. "Is it your mother you are speaking +of?" + +The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said +nothing. + +The youngest child spoke, for the first time. "My mother will not +come back, but she will die dancing." + +Polecrab and his wife looked at one another. + +"Where are you going to, Mother?" asked the eldest lad. + +Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. "To the Island." + +"Well then, if you don't come back by tomorrow morning, I will go and +look for you." + +Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. "This seems to me to +be a man's journey," he said. "I think it would be better for you +not to come, Gleameil." + +"I am not to be dissuaded," she replied. + +He stroked his beard in perplexity. "Is it time to start?" + +"It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that." + +Maskull sighed. "I'll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait there +for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, +Gleameil." + +He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. "Adieu, fisherman!" + +"You have repaid me well for my answers," said the old man gruffly. +"But it's not your fault, and in Shaping's world the worst things +happen." + +The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. "Farewell, +big man!" he said. "But guard my mother well, as well as you are +well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you." + +Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. +The glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his +eyes again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He +continued as far as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of +the forest, strolled on to the sands, and sat down in the full +sunlight. The radiance of Alppain had long since disappeared. He +drank in the hot, invigorating wind, listened to the hissing waves, +and stared over the coloured sea with its pinnacles and currents, at +Swaylone's Island. + +"What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all +she loves the most?" he meditated. "It sounds unholy. Will it tell +me what I want to know? Can it?" + +In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, +turning his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward +the open sea. Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a +rude pole. He passed by Maskull, without looking at him. or making +any salutation, and proceeded out to sea. + +While he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the +boys came in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest- +born was holding her hand, and talking; and the other two were +behind. She was calm and smiling, but seemed abstracted. + +"What is your husband doing with the raft?" asked Maskull. + +"He's putting it in position and we shall wade out and join it," she +answered, in her low-toned voice. + +"But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?" + +"Don't you see that current running away from land? See, he is +approaching it. That will take us straight there." + +"But how can you get back?" + +"There is a way; but we need not think of that today." + +"Why shouldn't I come too?" demanded the eldest boy. + +"Because the raft won't carry three. Maskull is a heavy man." + +"It doesn't matter," said the boy. "I know where there is wood for +another raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to work." + +Polecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position +he desired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point +made a sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his +wife and Maskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and +broke down a little. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and +tears glistened in his eyes; but the younger children stared wide- +eyed, and displayed no emotion. + +Gleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water +covered first their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as +high as their waists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let +himself down into the water, and assisted his wife to climb over the +side. When she was up, she bent down and kissed him. No words were +exchanged. Maskull scrambled up on to the front part of the raft. +The woman sat cross-legged in the stem, and seized the pole. + +Polecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her +pole until they had got within its power. The raft immediately began +to travel swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion. + +The boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull +turned his back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was +wading back to the shore. + +For upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. +No sound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around +them, and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its +way smoothly through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway +of safety, the beautiful dangers surrounding them were an +exhilarating experience. The air was fresh and clean, and the heat +from Branchspell, now low in the west, was at last endurable. The +riot of sea colors had long since banished all sadness and anxiety +from his heart. Yet he felt such a grudge against the woman for +selfishly forsaking those who should have been dear to her that he +could not bring himself to begin a conversation. + +But when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught +sight of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon- +pink in the evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the +silence by inquiring what they were. + +"It is Lichstorm," said Gleameil. + +Maskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her, +his eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he +continued to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles, +and now he could better estimate the enormous height of the trees. +Overtopping them, far away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not +quite sure, that he could distinguish Disscourn as well. + +"Now that we are alone in a strange place," said Gleameil, averting +her head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the water, +"tell me what you thought of Polecrab." + +Maskull paused before answering. "He seemed to me like a mountain +wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is +all. But then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch +sight of more mountain--and even then it is not the top." + +"You read character well, and have great perception," remarked +Gleameil quietly. "Now say what I am." + +"In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that's all I +know about you." + +"What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?" + +"You heard." + +"Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband +and boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is +another world for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my +real world appear all false and vulgar." + +"Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to +satisfy our self-nature at the expense of other people?" + +"No, it's not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other world +these words have no meaning." + +There was a silence. + +"It's useless to discuss such topics," said Maskull. "The choice is +now out of our hands, and we must go where we are taken. What I +would rather speak about is what awaits us on the island." + +"I am ignorant--except that we shall find Earthrid there." + +"Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone's Island?" + +"They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about +him. As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend." + +"If you please," said Maskull. + +"In a far-back age," began Gleameil, "when the seas were hot, and +clouds hung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with +transformations, Swaylone came to this island, on which men had never +before set foot, and began to play his music--the first music in +Tormance. Nightly, when the moon shone, people used to gather on +this shore behind us, and listen to the faint, sweet strains floating +from over the sea. One night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was +passing this way in company with Krag. They listened a while to the +music, and Shaping said 'Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This +is my world and my music.' Krag stamped with his foot, and laughed. +'You must do better than that, if I am to admire it. Let us pass +over, and see this bungler at work.' Shaping consented, and they +passed over to the island. Swaylone was not able to see their +presence. Shaping stood behind him, and breathed thoughts into his +soul, so that his music became ten times lovelier, and people +listening on that shore went mad with sick delight. 'Can any strains +be nobler?' demanded Shaping. Krag grinned and said, 'You are +naturally effeminate. Now let me try.' Then he stood behind +Swaylone, and shot ugly discords fast into his head. His instrument +was so cracked, that never since has it played right. From that time +forth Swaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called to +folk more than the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island +during his lifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could +endure them; all died. After Swaylone's death, another musician took +up the tale; and so the light has passed down from torch to torch, +till now Earthrid bears it." + +"An interesting legend," commented Maskull. "But who is Krag?" + +"They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it--a +spirit compounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not +know how to transform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the +world, for he dogs Shaping's footsteps everywhere, and whatever the +latter does, he undoes. To love he joins death; to sex, shame; to +intellect, madness; to virtue, cruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody +entrails. These are Krag's actions, so the lovers of the world call +him 'devil.' They don't understand, Maskull, that without him the +world would lose its beauty." + +"Krag and beauty!" exclaimed he, with a cynical smile. + +"Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to +discover. That beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, +children, and happiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?" + +"Surely." + +"That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see +beauty in its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from +it." + +"Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far +from my mind." + +She did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes, +to hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once +more. There was no more talk until they reached the island. + +The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its +shores. Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The +Island appeared to be some three or four miles in length. There were +first of all broad sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a +wilderness of insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of +vegetation. The current bore them to within a hundred yards of the +coast, when it made a sharp angle, and proceeded to skirt the length +of the land. + +Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull +followed her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away +by the current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the +rest of the way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set. + +Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a +single glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, +followed her. The cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent +was gentle and easy, while the rich, dry, brown mould was good to +walk upon. + +A little way off, on their left, something white was shining. + +"You need not go to it," said the woman. "It can be nothing else +than one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look--there +is another one over there!" + +"This brings it home!" remarked Maskull, smiling. + +"There is nothing comical in having died for beauty," said Gleameil, +bending her brows at him. + +And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human +bones, from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as +if it were a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and +fell into a sombre mood. + +It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set +eyes on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no +way different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors +were fast becoming invisible. + +"That is Matterplay," said the woman, pointing her finger toward some +low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off than +Wombflash. + +"I wonder how Digrung passed over," meditated Maskull. + +Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they +saw a small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. +The sunset colors of the sky were reflected in its waters. + +"That must be Irontick," remarked Gleameil. + +"What is that?" + +"I have heard that it's the instrument Earthrid plays on." + +"We are getting close," responded he. "Let us go and investigate." + +When they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the +farther side, in an attitude of sleep. + +"If that's not the man himself, who can it be?" said Maskull. "Let's +get across the water, if it will bear us; it will save time." + +He now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope +which bounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with +greater dignity, keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if +fascinated. When Maskull reached the water's edge, he tried it with +one foot, to discover if it would carry his weight. Something +unusual in its appearance led him to have doubts. It was a tranquil, +dark, and beautifully reflecting sheet of water; it resembled a +mirror of liquid metal. Finding that it would bear him, and that +nothing happened, he placed his second foot on its surface. +Instantly he sustained a violent shock throughout his body, as from a +powerful electric current; and he was hurled in a tumbled heap back +on to the bank. + +He picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started +walking around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the +half circuit together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him +with his foot. He woke up, and blinked at them. + +His face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable +expression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and +head. On his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a +perfectly circular organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. +He had an unpleasant smell. He appeared to be of young middle age. + +"Wake up, man," said Maskull sharply, "and tell us if you are +Earthrid." + +"What time is it?" counterquestioned the man. "Does it want long to +moonrise?" + +Without appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning +away from them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and +to eat it halfheartedly. + +"Now, how can you eat that filth?" demanded Maskull, in disgust. + +"Don't be angry, Maskull," said Gleameil, laying hold of his arm, and +flushing a little. "It is Earthrid--the man who is to help us." + +"He has not said so." + +"I am Earthrid," said the other, in his weak and muffled voice, +which, however, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. "What +do you want here? Or rather, you had better get away as quickly as +you can, for it will be too late when Teargeld rises." + +"You need not explain," exclaimed Maskull. "We know your reputation, +and we have come to hear your music. But what's that organ for on +your forehead?" + +Earthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again. + +"That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don't +stand and argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the +island with corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else." + +Darkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape. + +"You are rather bigmouthed," said Maskull coolly. "But after we have +heard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself." + +"You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?" + +A flame danced in Gleameil's eyes. + +"Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument," she said in her +intense way. "But it is in the soul of the Master." + +"Yes," said Earthrid, "but that is not all. I will tell you what it +is. In Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the mystery +of the Three in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, +has three directions. Length is the line which shuts off what is, +from what is not. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what +manner one thing of what-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the +path which leads from what-is, to our own body. In music it is not +otherwise. Tone is existence, without which nothing at all can be. +Symmetry and Numbers are the manner in which tones exist, one with +another. Emotion is the movement of our soul toward the wonderful +world that is being created. Now, men when they make music are +accustomed to build beautiful tones, because of the delight they +cause. Therefore their music world is based on pleasure; its +symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet and lovely.... +But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its symmetry is +wild, and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and terrible." + +"If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come +here," said Maskull. "Still, explain--why can't harsh tones have +simple symmetry of form? And why must they necessarily cause more +profound emotions in us who listen?" + +"Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of +their clashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, +which is rough and earnest." + +"You may call it music," remarked Maskull thoughtfully, "but to me it +bears a closer resemblance to actual life." + +"If Shaping's plans had gone straight, life would have been like that +other sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that intention +in the world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life +resembles my music and mine is the true music." + +"Shall we see living shapes?" + +"I don't know what my mood will be," returned Earthrid. "But when I +have finished, you shall adventure your tune, and produce whatever +shapes you please--unless, indeed, the tune is out of your own big +body." + +"The shocks you are preparing may kill us," said Gleameil, in a low, +taut voice, "but we shall die, seeing beauty." + +Earthrid looked at her with a dignified expression. + +"Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I +put into my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed +a woman to call it 'beauty.' But if this is beauty, what is +ugliness?" + +"That I can tell you, Master," replied Gleameil, smiling at him. +"Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues fresh +from the womb of nature." + +Earthrid stared at her, without response. "Teargeld is rising," he +said at last. "And now you shall see--though not for long." + +As the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in +the dark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was +wholly up. It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. +Its shadowy parts stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it +did not give Maskull the impression of being a dead world. +Branchspell shone on the whole of it, but Alppain only on a part. +The broad crescent that reflected Branchspell's rays alone was white +and brilliant; but the part that was illuminated by both suns shone +with a greenish radiance that had almost solar power, and yet was +cold and cheerless. On gazing at that combined light, he felt the +same sense of disintegration that the afterglow of Alppain had always +caused in him; but now the feeling was not physical, but merely +aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to him, but disturbing +and mystical. + +Earthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright +moonlight, his face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its +loose, weak, disagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty +grandeur. He clapped his hands together meditatively two or three +times, and walked up and down. The others stood together, watching +him. + +Then he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side, +placed his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same +time stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact +with the water. + +While Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he +felt a stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had +been pierced by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, +and as he did so he saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was +now subsiding again. The next moment he was knocked down by a +violent blow in the mouth, delivered by an invisible hand. He picked +himself up; and observed that a second spout had formed. No sooner +was he on his legs, than a hideous pain hammered away inside his +brain, as if caused by a malignant tumour. In his agony, he stumbled +and fell again; this time on the arm Krag had wounded. All his other +mishaps were forgotten in this one, which half stunned him. It +lasted only a moment, and then sudden relief came, and he found that +Earthrid's rough music had lost its power over him. + +He saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming +thick and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But +Gleameil was not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a +heap, without moving. Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was +dead. When he reached her, he discovered that she was dead. In what +state of mind she had died, he did not know, for her face wore the +vulgar Crystalman grin. The whole tragedy had not lasted five +minutes. + +He went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his +playing. + +"You have been as good as your word, musician," he said. "Gleameil +is dead." + +Earthrid tried to collect his scattered senses. + +"I warned her," he replied, sitting up. "Did I not beg her to go +away? But she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty she +spoke about. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the +rhythm. Neither have you." + +Maskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing. + +"You should not have interrupted me," went on Earthrid. "When I am +playing, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost the thread +of my ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over again." + +"If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next." + +The man glanced up quickly. + +"That can't be." + +"It must be," said Maskull decisively. "I prefer playing to +listening. Another reason is that you will have every night, but I +have only tonight." + +Earthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. +"With your recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick +belongs to me, and until you have learned how to play, you would only +break the instrument." + +"Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try." + +The musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. "Do you intend to +take it from me by violence?" + +"Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I +shall give you time to go away somewhere." + +"How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don't understand +what you are doing." + +"Go, or stay!" responded Maskull. "I give you till the water gets +smooth again. After that, I begin playing." + +Earthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to +Maskull. + +"Do you swear it?" + +"How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you +are safe." + +Earthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and +then moved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up +he glanced over his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was +happening. In another minute or so, he had disappeared over the +crest, travelling in the direction of the shore that faced +Matterplay. + +Later, when the water was once more tranquil. Maskull sat down by +its edge, in imitation of Earthrid's attitude. He knew neither how +to set about producing his music, nor what would come of it. But +audacious projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical +shapes--and, above all, one shape, that of Surtur. + +Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little +in his mind. + +He said, "What themes are in common music, shapes are in this music. +The composer does not find his theme by picking out single notes; but +the whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it must be +with shapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the +undivided ideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and +then, reflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the +first time made acquainted with them. So it must be." + +The instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing +from him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of +flowing created a sensation of joyful mastery. With this was +curiosity to learn what they would prove to be. Spouts formed on the +lake in increasing numbers, but he experienced no pain. His +thoughts, which he knew to be music, did not issue from him in a +steady, unbroken stream, but in great, rough gushes, succeeding +intervals of quiescence. When these gushes came, the whole lake +broke out in an eruption of spouts. + +He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his +intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will. +He could not decide what character they should have, but he was able +to force them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition. + +At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and +a strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It +increased so imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised +it as the Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He +could not give it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort +of stern and sacred awe. He called up the resources of his powerful +will. The spouts thickened like a forest, and many of them were +twenty feet high. Teargeld looked faint and pale; the radiance +became intense; but it cast no shadows. The wind got up, but where +Maskull was sitting, it was calm. Shortly afterward it began to +shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He saw no shapes, and +redoubled his efforts. + +His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his +whole soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he +did not know their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same +moment the hills began to crack and break. Great masses of loose +soil were erupted from their bowels, and in the next period of +quietness, he saw that the landscape had altered. Still the +mysterious light intensified. The moon disappeared entirely. The +noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying, but Maskull played +heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would take shape. The +hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping from the tops +of the spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was dry. + +The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied +that it was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that +it was becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid +form. He strained and strained.... + +Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters +fell through, and his instrument was broken. + +The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull +could not see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself +to be in total blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a +dead silence. His thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his +foot no longer touched water, but hung in space. + +He was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or +feel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in +the newly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its +descent had met fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many +yards high, and came down heavily. He lost consciousness.... + + + +When he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was +gleaming brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but +it was now a crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not +penetrate. The hills encircling it were torn, as if by heavy +gunfire. A few thunderclouds were floating in the air at no great +height, from which branched lightning descended to the earth +incessantly, accompanied by alarming and singular crashes. + +He got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was +uninjured, he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and +then started to walk painfully toward the northern shore. + +When he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped +gently down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through +traces of his rough work. The country was carved into scarps, +grooves, channels, and craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs +overlooking the beach, and found that these also were partly broken +down by landslips. He got down onto the sand and stood looking over +the moonlit, agitated sea, wondering how he could contrive to escape +from this island of failure. + +Then he saw Earthrid's body, lying quite close to him. It was on its +back. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see +them anywhere. Earthrid's teeth were buried in the flesh of his +right forearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning +physical agony. The skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was +stained by darker discolourations, which were wounds. The sand about +him was dyed by the pool of blood which had long since filtered +through. + +Maskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the +sweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for +daybreak. + + + +Chapter 16 + +LEEHALLFAE + +At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow +straight toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as +day, he saw a great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was +thirty feet out of the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must +have been enormously deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, +through the heavy seas. Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few +minutes. Then it dawned on him that it might be a good thing to +investigate its nature. Without stopping to weigh the danger, he +immediately swam out, caught hold of the lowest branch, and swung +himself up. + +He looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top, +terminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made +his way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were +covered with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving +at the crown, he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there +were membranes like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting +some form of low intelligence. + +At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the +shore, and began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his +hand out, and, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the +membranes. The tree sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. +When it was steady again, Maskull removed his hand; they at once +drifted back to shore. He thought a bit, and then started +experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was as he had guessed-- +these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon, and whichever +way the light came from, the tree would travel. + +A rather defiant smile crossed Maskull's face as it struck him that +it might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as +Matterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into +execution. Tearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up +all the membranes except the ones that faced the north. The tree +instantly left the island, and definitely put out to sea. It +travelled due north. It was not moving at more than a mile an hour, +however, while Matterplay was possibly forty miles distant. + +The great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the +breaking seas hissed through the lower branches--Maskull rested high +and dry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow +rate of progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward +the north-west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to +juggle with the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in +piloting his tree into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were +fairly in its rapids, he blinded the crown entirely, and +thenceforward the current acted in the double capacity of road and +steed. + +Maskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the +remainder of the night. + +When his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld +was setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with +the colours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the +light over the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land-- +probably Matterplay--lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, +perhaps a mile away. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but +began to skirt the coast without drawing any closer to it. As soon +as Maskull realised the fact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its +channel and started drifting it inshore. The eastern sky blazed up +suddenly with violent dyes, and the outer rim of Branchspell lifted +itself above the sea. The moon had already sunk. + +The shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was +like Swaylone's Island--the same wide sands, small cliffs, and +rounded, insignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the +early-morning sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, +hollow-eyed and morose, cared nothing for all that, but the moment +the tree grounded, clambered swiftly down through the branches and +dropped into the sea. By the time he had swam ashore, the white, +stupendous sun was high above the horizon. + +He walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable +distance, without having any special intention in his mind. He +thought he would go on until he came to some creek or valley, and +then turn up it. The sun's rays were cheering, and began to relieve +him of his oppressive night weight. After strolling along the beach +for about a mile, he was stopped by a broad stream that flowed into +the sea out of a kind of natural gateway in the line of cliffs. Its +water was of a beautiful, limpid green, all filled with bubbles. So +ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did it look that he flung himself +face downward on the ground and took a prolonged draught. When he +got up again his eyes started to play pranks--they became +alternately blurted and clear.... It may have been pure imagination, +but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him. + +He followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and +then for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared, +like a jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare +and lifeless, but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely +fertile; he had never seen such fertility. It wound up among the +hills, and all that he was looking at was its broad lower end. The +floor of the valley was about half a mile wide; the stream that ran +down its middle was nearly a hundred feet across, but was exceedingly +shallow--in most places not more than a few inches deep. The sides +of the valley were about seventy feet high, but very sloping; they +were clothed from top to bottom with little, bright-leaved trees-- +not of varied tints of one colour, like Earth trees, but of widely +diverse colours, most of which were brilliant and positive. + +The floor itself was like a magician's garden. Densely interwoven +trees, shrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for +possession of it. The forms were strange and grotesque, and each one +seemed different; the colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and +stem were equally peculiar--all the different combinations of the +five primary colours of Tormance seemed to be represented, and the +result, for Maskull was a sort of eye chaos. So rank was the +vegetation that he could not fight his way through it; he was obliged +to take to the riverbed. The contact of the water created an odd +tingling sensation throughout his body, like a mild electric shock. +There were no birds, but a few extraordinary-looking winged +reptiles of small size kept crossing the valley from hill to hill. +Swarms of flying insects clustered around him, threatening mischief, +but in the end it turned out that his blood was disagreeable to them. +for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling creatures resembling +centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in myriads on the +banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use their +weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into the +water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a +hideous monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape--if +it resembled anything--a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. +They stared at one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with +cool and wary ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened +to him. + +His eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring +passed away and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in +character. He was looking right through the animal's body and could +distinguish all its interior parts. The outer crust, however, and +all the hard tissues were misty and semi-transparent; through them a +luminous network of blood-red veins and arteries stood out in +startling distinctness. The hard parts faded away to nothingness, +and the blood system alone was left. Not even the fleshy ducts +remained. The naked blood alone was visible, flowing this way and +that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the shape of the monster. +Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a continuous liquid +stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a million +individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by the +rapid motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled +minute suns in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a +double drift of stars, streaming through space. One drift was +travelling toward a fixed point in the centre, while the other was +moving away from it. He recognised the former as the veins of the +beast, the latter as the arteries, and the fixed point as the heart. + +While he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network +went out suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean +had stood, there was nothing. Yet through this "nothing" he could +not see the landscape. Something was standing there that intercepted +the light, though it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. +And now the object, which could no longer be perceived by vision, +began to be felt by emotion. A delightful, springlike sense of +rising sap, of quickening pulses of love, adventure, mystery, beauty, +femininity--took possession of his being, and, strangely enough, he +identified it with the monster. Why that invisible brute should +cause him to feel young, sexual, and audacious, he did not ask +himself, for he was fully occupied with the effect. But it was as if +flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and he were face to face +with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into his own body. + +The sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the +streaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed +to the red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with +more and more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood +grew fainter. Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed +by the crust--the creature stood opposite Maskull in its old +formidable ugliness, hard, painted, and concrete. + +Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and +stumbled awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive +movements, toward the other bank of the stream. + +Maskull's apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and +thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through +Digrung's eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately +ahead. The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down +with his will, and nothing happened. + +The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed +considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and +higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was +deeper--it was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric +sensations caused by its water became more pronounced, almost +disagreeably so; but there was nowhere else to walk. With its +deafening confusion of sounds from the multitude of living creatures, +the little valley resembled a vast conversation hall of Nature. The +life was still more prolific than before; every square foot of space +was a tangle of struggling wills, both animal and vegetable. For a +naturalist it would have been paradise, for no two shapes were alike, +and all were fantastic, with individual character. + +It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that +there was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on +Earth, where a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be +sown. Here the young forms seemed to survive, while, to find +accommodation for them, the old ones perished; everywhere he looked +they were withering and dying, without any ostensible cause--they +were simply being killed by new life. + +Other creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that +they became of different "kingdoms" altogether. For example, a fruit +was lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with a +tougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; +but inside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of +bursting its shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back +toward him; by the time he was even with it, its downward motion had +stopped and it was swimming against the current. He fished it out +and discovered that it had sprouted six rudimentary legs. + +Maskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously +overcrowded valley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and +depressed. He thought that the unseen power--whether it was called +Nature, Life, Will, or God--that was so frantic to rush forward and +occupy this small, vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very +high aims and was not worth much. How this sordid struggle for an +hour or two of physical existence could ever be regarded as a deeply +earnest and important business was beyond his comprehension The +atmosphere choked him, he longed for air and space. Thrusting his +way through to the side of the ravine, he began to climb the +overhanging cliff, swinging his way up from tree to tree. + +When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such +brutal, white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. +He looked around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come +to. He had travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow +flies. The bare, undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; +the water glittered in the distance; and on the horizon he was just +able to make out Swaylone's Island. Looking north, the land +continued sloping upward as far as he could see. Over the crest-- +that is to say, some miles away--a line of black, fantastic-shaped +rocks of quite another character showed themselves; this was probably +Threal. Behind these again, against the sky, perhaps fifty or even a +hundred miles off, were the peaks of Lichstorm, most of them covered +with greenish snow that glittered in the sunlight. + +They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were +conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain +balanced themselves at what looked like impossible angles-- +overhanging without apparent support. A land like that promised +something new, he thought: extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took +shape in his mind to go there, and to travel as swiftly as possible, +it might even be feasible to get there before sunset. It was less +the mountains themselves that attracted him than the country which +lay beyond--the prospect of setting eyes on the blue sun, which he +judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance. + +The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the +question, because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He +guessed, however, that the valley would not take him far out of his +way, and decided to keep to that for the time being, much as he hated +and feared it. Into the hotbed of life, therefore, he once more +swung himself. + +Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for +several miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became +increasingly difficult. The cliffs closed in on either side until +they were less than a hundred yards apart, while the bed of the +ravine was blocked by boulders, great and small, so that the little +stream, which was now diminished to the proportions of a brook, had +to come down where and how it could. The forms of life grew +stranger. Pure plants and pure animals disappeared by degrees, and +their place was filled by singular creatures that seemed to partake +of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will, and intelligence, +but they remained for the greater part of their time rooted in the +ground by preference, and they fed only on soil and air. Maskull saw +no sexual organs and failed to understand how the young came into +existence. + +Then he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed +plant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. +He could not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long +time in amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before +him, as thought it had been there all its life. Giving up the +puzzle, Maskull resumed his striding from rock to rock up the gorge, +and then, quietly and without warning, the same phenomenon occurred +again. No longer could he doubt than he was seeing miracles--that +Nature was precipitating its shapes into the world without making use +of the medium of parentage.... No solution of the problem presented +itself. + +The brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up +from its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the +air. He had not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test +its quality. He felt new life entering his body, from his feet +upward; it resembled a slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. +The sensation was quite new in his experience, yet he knew by +instinct what it was. The energy emitted by the brook was ascending +his body neither as friend nor foe but simply because it happened to +be the direct road to its objective elsewhere. But, although it had +no hostile intentions, it was likely to prove a rough traveller--he +was clearly conscious that its passage through his body threatened to +bring about some physical transformation, unless he could do +something to prevent it. Leaping quickly out of the water, he leaned +against a rock, tightened his muscles, and braced himself against the +impending charge. At that very moment the blurring again attacked +his sight, and, while he was guarding against that, his forehead +sprouted out into a galaxy of new eyes. He put his hand up and +counted six, in addition to his old ones. + +The danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on +having got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were +for--whether they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a +dozen steps up the ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the +act of jumping down from the top of a boulder, his vision altered and +he came to an automatic standstill. He was perceiving two worlds +simultaneously. With his own eyes he saw the gorge as before, with +its rocks, brook, plant-animals, sunshine, and shadows. But with +his acquired eyes he saw differently. All the details of the valley +were visible, but the light seemed turned down, and everything +appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured. The sun was obscured by masses +of cloud which filled the whole sky. This vapour was in violent and +almost living motion. It was thick in extension, but thin in +texture; some parts, however, were far denser than others, as the +particles were crushed together or swept apart by the motion. The +green sparks from the brook, when closely watched, could be +distinguished individually, each one wavering up toward the clouds, +but the moment they got within them a fearful struggle seemed to +begin. The spark endeavoured to escape through to the upper air, +while the clouds concentrated around it whichever way it darted, +trying to create so dense a prison that further movement would be +impossible. As far as Maskull could detect, most of the sparks +succeeded eventually in finding their way out after frantic efforts; +but one that he was looking at was caught, and what happened was +this. A complete ring of cloud surrounded it, and, in spite of its +furious leaps and flashes in all directions--as if it were a live, +savage creature caught in a net--nowhere could it find an opening, +but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with it, wherever it went. +The vapours continued to thicken around it, until they resembled the +black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a bad thunderstorm. +Then the green spark, which was still visible in the interior, ceased +its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent. The cloud +shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly spherical; as +it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend toward the +valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its lower +end only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether and +there was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like +a stab of forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became +small, indented, and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking +around on legs and rooting up the ground in search of food. The +concluding stage of the phenomenon he witnessed with his normal +eyesight. It showed him the creature's appearing miraculously out of +nowhere. + +Maskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to +curiosity and awe. "That was exactly like the birth of a thought," +he said to himself, "but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind +is at work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are +different, and he has character, for all belong to the same general +type.... If I'm not wrong, and if it's the force called Shaping or +Crystalman, I've seen enough to make me want to find out something +more about him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other riddles +before I have solved these." + +A voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a +human figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. +It looked more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but +nimble, and was clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached +from the neck to below the knees. Around his head was rolled a +turban. Maskull waited for him, and when he was nearer went a little +way to meet him. + +Then he experienced another surprise, for this person, although +clearly a human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything +between the two, but was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which +was remarkable to behold and difficult to understand. In order to +translate into words the sexual impression produced in Maskull's mind +by the stranger's physical aspect, it is necessary to coin a new +pronoun, for none in earthly use would be applicable. Instead of +"he," "she," or "it," therefore "ae" will be used. + +He found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily +peculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, +and not from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. +Body, face, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but +something quite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a +woman at the first glance by some indefinable difference of +expression and atmospheres altogether apart from the contour of the +figure, so the stranger was separated in appearance from both. As +with men and women, the whole person expressed a latent sensuality, +which gave body and face alike their peculiar character.... Maskull +decided that it was love--but what love--love for whom? it was +neither the shame-carrying passion of a male, nor the deep-rooted +instinct of a female to obey her destiny. It was as real and +irresistible as these, but quite different. + +As he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an +intuitive feeling that aer lover was no other than Shaping himself. +it came to him that the design of this love was not the continuance +of the race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No +children were produced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal +child. Further, ae sought like a man, but received like a woman. +All these things were dimly and confusedly expressed by this +extraordinary being, who seemed to have dropped out of another age, +when creation was different. + +Of all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, +this one struck him as infinitely the most foreign--that is, the +farthest removed from him in spiritual structure. If they were to +live together for a hundred years, they could never be companions. + +Maskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing +the newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to +account for the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae +possessed broad shoulders and big bones, and was without female +breasts, and so far ae resembled a man. But the bones were so flat +and angular that aer flesh presented something of the character of a +crystal, having plane surfaces in place of curves. The body looked +as if it had not been ground down by the sea of ages into smooth and +rounded regularity but had sprung together in angles and facets as +the result of a single, sudden idea. The face too was broken and +irregular. With his racial prejudices, Maskull found little beauty +in it, yet beauty there was, though neither of a masculine nor of a +feminine type, for it had the three essentials of beauty: character, +intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper-coloured and strangely +luminous, as if lighted from within. The face was beardless, but the +hair of the head was as long as a woman's, and, dressed in a single +plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae possessed only two +eyes. That part of the turban which went across the forehead +protruded so far in front that it evidently concealed some organ. + +Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared +active, vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the +eyes were powerful and alert--ae might well be in early youth. +Nevertheless, the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of +unbelievable ancientness came upon him--aer real youth seemed as far +away as the view observed through a reversed telescope. + +At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were +conversing with a dream. "To what sex do you belong?" he asked. + +The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but +was oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great +distance. + +"Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world +was peopled by 'phaens.' I think I am the only survivor of all those +beings who were then passing through Faceny's mind." + +"Faceny?" + +"Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names +invented by a race of superficial creatures." + +"What's your own name?" + +"Leehallfae." + +"What?" + +"Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have +just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess +extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use +of it." + +"Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit? ... But never +mind that now. It is your sex that interests me. How do you satisfy +your desires?" + +Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on aer brow. "With that I +gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay +valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has +been spent trying to find Faceny himself. I've hunted so long that +if I were to state the number of years you would believe I lied." + +Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. "In Ifdawn I met someone else +from Matterplay--a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him." + +"You can't be telling me this out of vanity." + +"It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?" + +Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. "In Matterplay he will +stir inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his +eyes.... I knew him.... Take care of yourself, or something more +startling may happen. Keep out of the water." + +"This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen." + +"Don't torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by right +to the phaens--the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to +remove them." + +Maskull continued thoughtful. "I say no more, but I see I will have +to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my +luck?" + +"Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to +serve me. Together we will search for Threal." + +"Search for Threal--why, is it so hard to find?" + +"I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest." + +"You said Faceny, Leehallfae." + +The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. +"This stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, +has its source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from +Threal, it is in Threal that we must look for Faceny." + +"But what's to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it's a well-known +country?" + +"It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are +few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I +have scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates +of Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn +infants beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green +youth, dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens." + +"Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have +found Faceny, what do you gain?" + +Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, +and its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow +that Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by +the grief and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved +one, the scents and traces of whose person were always present. This +passion stamped her features at that moment with a wild, stern, +spiritual beauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man. + +But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast +showed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but +vulgar--it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal +aims with untiring persistence. + +He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his +thigh. "Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in +any case I shan't be sorry to converse with such a singular +individual as yourself." + +"But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different +creations. A phaen's body contains the whole of life, a man's body +contains only the half of life--the other half is in woman. Faceny +may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not +feel this?" + +"I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions +I can, and chance the rest." He bent down, and, taking hold of the +phaen's thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he +proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. "I'm not forgetting +your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as +Maskull and finish it as Digrung." + +The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The +road was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and +found it warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, +which they could surmount only by climbing. There was no more +conversation for a long time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted +his companion's counsel to avoid the water, but here and there he was +forced to set foot in it. The second or third time he did so, he +felt a sudden agony in his arm, where it had been wounded by Krag. +His eyes grew joyful; his fears vanished; and he began deliberately +to tread the stream. + +Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, +trying to comprehend what had happened. "Is your luck speaking to +you, Maskull, or what is the matter?" + +"Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, +if anyone does. What is Muspel?" + +The phaen's face was blank. "I don't know the name." + +"It is another world of some sort." + +"That cannot be. There is only this one world--Faceny's." + +Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. "I'm glad I +fell in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything +connected with it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this +spot there are hardly any organic forms left--why have they all +disappeared? You call this brook a 'life stream,' yet the nearer its +source we get, the less life it produces. A mile or two lower down +we had those spontaneous plant-animals appearing out of nowhere, +while right down by the sea, plants and animals were tumbling over +one another. Now, if all this is connected in some mysterious way or +other with your Faceny, it seems to me he must have a most +paradoxical nature. His essence doesn't start creating shapes until +it has become thoroughly weakened and watered.... But perhaps both of +us are talking nonsense." + +Leehallfae shook aer head. "Everything hangs together. The stream +is life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When +these sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living +shapes. The nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible +and vigorous is its life. You'll see for yourself when we reach the +head of the valley that there are no living shapes there at all. +That means that there is no kind of matter tough enough to capture +and hold the terrible sparks that are to be found there. Lower down +the stream, most of the sparks are vigorous enough to escape to the +upper air, but some are held when they are a little way up, and +these burst suddenly into shapes. I myself am of this nature. Lower +down still, toward the sea, the stream has lost a great part of its +vital power and the sparks are lazy and sluggish. They spread out, +rather than rise into the air. There is hardly any kind of matter, +however delicate, that is incapable of capturing these feeble sparks, +and they are captured in multitudes--that accounts for the +innumerable living shapes you see there. But not only that--the +sparks are passed from one body to another by way of generation, and +can never hope to cease being so until they are worn out by decay. +Lowest of all, you have the Sinking Sea itself. There the degenerate +and enfeebled life of the Matterplay streams has for its body the +whole sea. So weak is it's power that it can't succeed in creating +any shapes at all but you can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to +do so, in those spouts." + +"So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness of +the life germ in their case?" + +"Exactly. It can't attain all its desires at once. And now you can +see how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring +spontaneously from the more electric and vigorous sparks." + +"But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?" + +"When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its +place is constantly taken by new matter." + +"But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?" + +"Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left +his brain they are nothing--mere dying embers." + +"This is a cheerless philosophy," said Maskull. "But who is Faceny +himself, then, and why does he think at all?" + +Leehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. "That I'll explain too. +Faceny is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. +He has no back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his +shape. It must necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between +him and Nothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally +contemplates Nothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no +other way could he feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and +even men love to be in empty places and vast solitudes, for each one +is a little Faceny." + +"That rings true," said Maskull. + +"Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny's face backward. Since his +face is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A +draught of thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the +inside of Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, +and people the world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying +all around us, is not outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The +visible universe is like a gigantic stomach, and the real outside of +the world we shall never see." + +Maskull pondered deeply for a while. + +"Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, +since you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought." + +"Have you never loved a woman?" asked the phaen, regarding him +fixedly. + +"Perhaps I have." + +"When you loved, did you have no high moments?" + +"That's asking the same question in other words." + +"In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have +drawn nearer still, would you not have done so?" + +"I would, regardless of the consequences." + +"Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?" + +"But I would have that to hope for." + +Leehallfae walked on in silence. + +"A man is the half of Life," ae broke out suddenly. "A woman is the +other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. Moreover, when +life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped out of it-- +something that belongs only to the whole. Between your love and +mine there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn to +Faceny, without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you +suppose it is with me?" + +"I don't question the genuineness of your passion," replied Maskull, +"but it's a pity you can't see your way to carry it forward into the +next world." + +Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what +emotion. "Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they +can see the world only as it really is." + +That ended the conversation. + +The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the +head of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, +except at those moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, +they strode along all the time in deep shade; but still it was +disagreeably hot and relaxing. All life had ceased. A beautiful, +fantastic spectacle was presented by the cliff faces, the rocky +ground, and the boulders that choked the entire width of the gorge. +They were a snow-white crystalline limestone, heavily scored by veins +of bright, gleaming blue. The rivulet was no longer green, but a +clear, transparent crystal. Its noise was musical, and altogether it +looked most romantic and charming, but Leehallfae seemed to find +something else in it--aer features grew more and more set and +tortured. + +About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, +another plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their +eyes. It was as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and +vigorous appearance, as befitted a creature just out of Nature's +mint. It started to walk about; but hardly had it done so when it +burst silently asunder. Nothing remained of it--the whole body +disappeared instantaneously into the same invisible mist from which +it had sprung. + +"That bears out what you said," commented Maskull, turning rather +pale. + +"Yes," answered Leehallfae, "we have now come to the region of +terrible life." + +"Then, since you're right in this, I must believe all that you've +been telling me." + +As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine. +There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three +hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the +head of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed. + +"In return for my wisdom," said the phaen, "you will now lend me your +luck." + +They walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it +reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be +difficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a +few feet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be +beard. The floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up +the precipice the sun was shining. + +"What do you want me to do?" demanded Maskull. "Everything is now in +your hands, and I have no suggestions to make. Now it's your luck +that must help us." + +Maskull continued gazing up a little while longer. "We had better +wait till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I'll probably have to climb to +the top, but it's too hot at present--and besides, I'm tired. I'll +snatch a few hours' sleep. After that, we'll see." + +Leehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition. + + + +Chapter 17 + +CORPANG + +Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was +standing by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether +ae had slept at all. + +"What time is it?" Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. + +"The day is passing," was the vague reply. + +Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. "Now I'm +going to climb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so +you wait here, and if I find anything on top I'll call you." + +Ale phaen glanced at him strangely. "There's nothing up there except +a bare hillside. I've been there often. Have you anything special +in mind?" + +"Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait." + +Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the +cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it grew +precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and +intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect +before every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was +no novice at the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that +it half blinded him with its glittering whiteness. + +After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, +sweating copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught +hold of two projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time +scrambling upward, his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, +which was the larger of the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, +flying like a huge, dark shadow past his head, crashed down with a +terrifying sound to the foot of the precipice, followed by an +avalanche of smaller stones. Maskull steadied himself as well as he +could, but it was some moments before he dared to look down behind +him. + +At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight +of legs and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He +perceived that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was +scrutinising something, and waited for aer to reappear. + +Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike +voice, "The entrance is here!" + +"I'm coming down!" roared Maskull. "Wait for me!" + +He descended swiftly--without taking too much care, for he thought +he recognised his "luck" in this discovery--and within twenty +minutes was standing beside the phaen. + +"What happened?" + +"The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the spring. +It tore it out of its bed. See--now there's room for us to get in!" + +"Don't get excited!" said Maskull. "It's a remarkable accident, but +we have plenty of time. Let me look." + +He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man +without stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, +yet a peculiar glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. +A rock tunnel went straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out +of sight. The valley brook did not flow along the floor of this +tunnel, as he had expected, but came up as a spring just inside the +entrance. + +"Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe +that your stream parts company with us here." + +As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was +trembling from head to foot. + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. "The stream leaves us, but +what makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is +there." + +"But surely you don't expect to see him in person? Why are you +shaking?" + +"Perhaps it will be too much for me after all." + +"Why? How is it affecting you?" + +The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm's length, +endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. "Faceny's thoughts +are obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he grants +to you what he denies to me." + +"What does he grant to me?" + +"To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it's immaterial. +Tomorrow both of us will be dead." + +Maskull impatiently shook himself free. "Your sensations may be +reliable in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?" + +"Life is flaming up inside you," replied Leehallfae, shaking aer +head. "But after it has reached its climax--perhaps tonight--it +will sink rapidly and you'll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter +Threal I shan't come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to +me out of this hole." + +"You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing." + +"I am not frightened," said Leehallfae quietly--ae had been +gradually recovering aer tranquillity--"but when one has lived as +long as I have, it is a serious matter to die. Every year one puts +out new roots." + +"Decide what you're going to do," said Maskull with a touch of +contempt, "for I'm going in at once." + +The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after +that walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, +scratching his head, followed close at aer heels. + +The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere +altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear +and refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts. +The daylight disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After +that, Maskull could not say where the light came from. The air +itself must have been luminous, for though it was as light as full +moon on Earth, neither he nor Leehallfae cast a shadow. Another +peculiarity of the light was that both the walls of the tunnel and +their own bodies appeared colourless. Everything was black and +white, like a lunar landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal +feelings created by the atmosphere. + +After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to +widen out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could +have walked side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae +dragged aerself along slowly and painfully, with sunken head. + +Maskull caught hold of aer. "You can't go on like that. Better let +me take you back." + +The phaen smiled, and staggered. "I'm dying." + +"Don't talk like that. It's only a passing indisposition. Let me +take you back to the daylight." + +"No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny." + +"The sick must have their way," said Maskull. Lifting aer bodily in +his arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or so. +They then emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of +which he had never set eyes upon before. + +"Set me down!" directed Leehallfae feebly. "Here I'll die." + +Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground. +The phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with +fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape. + +Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain, +lighted as if by the moon--but there was of course no moon, and +there were no shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. +Beside them were trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the +ground, but the branches also were aerial roots, and there were no +leaves. No other plants could be seen. The soil was soft, porous +rock, resembling pumice. Beyond a mile or two in any direction the +light merged into obscurity. At their back a great rocky wall +extended on either hand; but it was not square like a wall, but full +of bays and promontories like an indented line of sea cliffs. The +roof of this huge underworld was out of sight. Here and there a +mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered, towered aloft +into the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof. There were no +colours--every detail of the landscape was black, white, or grey. +The scene appeared so still, so solemn and religious, that all his +feelings quieted down to absolute tranquillity. + +Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and +helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like +a candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful +grin of Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen's dead +features. + +While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone +standing beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not +at once rise. + +"Another phaen dead," said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, and +intellectual voice. + +Maskull got up. + +The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not +disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were +energetic and rather coarse--yet it seemed to Maskull as though a +pure, hard life had done something toward refining them. His +sanguine eyes carried a twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable +problem was apparently in the forefront of his brain. His face was +hairless; the hair of his head was short and manly; his brow was +wide. He was clothed in a black, sleeveless robe, and bore a long +staff in his hand. There was an air of cleanness and austerity about +the whole man that was attractive. + +He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so, +kept passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. "They +all find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There +they live to an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly +because of their spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the +favoured children of Faceny. But when they come here to find him, +they die at once." + +"I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?" + +"I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you +doing here?" + +"My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. +As for what I am doing here--I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, +from Matterplay." + +"But a man doesn't accompany a phaen out of friendship. What do you +want in Threal?" + +"Then this is Threal?" + +"Yes." + +Maskull remained silent. + +Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. "Are you +ignorant, or merely reticent, Maskull?" + +"I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them." + +The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze +stirred, and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been +lowered, as though they were in a cathedral. + +"Then do you want my society, or not?" asked Corpang. + +"Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is--not to talk about +myself." + +"But you must at least tell me where you want to go to." + +"I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm." + +"I can guide you through, if that's all you want. Come, let us +start." + +"First let's do our duty and bury the dead, if possible." + +"Turn around," directed Corpang. + +Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae's body had disappeared. + +"What does this mean--what has happened?" + +"The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for +it to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required." + +"Was the phaen an illusion, then?" + +"In no sense." + +"Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be +going mad." + +"There's nothing unintelligible in it, if you'll only listen calmly. +The phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible world--to +Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny's world, but Thire's, and +Faceny's creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. As this applies +not only to whole bodies, but even to the last particles of bodies, +the phaen has dissolved into Nothingness." + +"But don't you and I belong to the outside world too?" + +"We belong to all three worlds." + +"What three worlds--what do you mean?" + +"There are three worlds," said Corpang composedly. "The first is +Faceny's, the second is Amfuse's, the third is Thire's. From him +Threal gets it name." + +"But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three +worlds?" + +Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. "All this we can discuss +as we go along. It's a torment to me to be standing still." + +Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae's body had lain, +quite bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could +scarcely tear himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not +until Corpang called to him a second time did he make up his mind to +follow him. + +They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, +directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, +the absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out +of the jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the +deathly silence, the knowledge that he was underground--the +combination of all these things predisposed Maskull's mind to +mysticism, and he prepared himself with some anxiety to hear +Corpang's explanation of the land and its wonders. He already began +to grasp that the reality of the outside world and the reality of +this world were two quite different things. + +"In what sense are there three worlds?" he demanded, repeating his +former question. + +Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. "First of all, +Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it's mere intellectual +curiosity, tell me, for we mustn't play with awful matters." + +"No, it isn't that," said Maskull slowly. "I'm not a student. My +journey is no holiday tour." + +"Isn't there blood on your soul?" asked Corpang, eying him intently. + +The blood rose steadily to Maskull's face, but in that light it +caused it to appear black. + +"Unfortunately there is, and not a little." + +The other's face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment. + +"And so you see," went on Maskull, with a short laugh, "I'm in the +very best condition for receiving your instruction." + +Corpang still paused. "Underneath your crimes I see a man," he said, +after a few minutes. "On that account, and because we are commanded +to help one another, I won't leave you at present, though I little +thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... +Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways-- +length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, +depth is feeling." + +"Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who +came from Threal." + +"I don't know him. What else did he tell you?" + +"He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the +interruption." + +"These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is +Faceny's world, relation is Amfuse's world, feeling is Thire's +world." + +"Can't we come down to hard facts?" said Maskull, frowning. "I +understand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds." + +"There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first +world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of +nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence." + +"That I understand." + +"The second world is Love--by which I don't mean lust. Without +love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable +deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no +sympathy--not even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. +These are all imperfect and distorted forms of pure love. +Interpenetrating Faceny's world of Nature, therefore, we have +Amfuse's world of Love, or Relation." + +"What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world +is not contained in the first?" + +"They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover +lives for others." + +"It may be so. It's rather mystical. But go on--who is Thire?" + +"Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and +love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling +is the need of men to stretch out toward their creator." + +"You mean prayer and worship?" + +"I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in +either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. +Just as depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the +line between Thire and man." + +"But what is Thire himself?" + +"Thire is the afterworld." + +"I still don't understand," said Maskull. "Do you believe in three +separate gods, or are these merely three ways of regarding one God?" + +"There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they +are somehow united." + +Maskull reflected a while. "How have you arrived at these +conclusions?" + +"None other are possible in Threal, Maskull." + +"Why in Threal--what is there peculiar here?" + +"I will show you presently." + +They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested +what had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew +along the banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang +halted. + +"That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary," +he remarked. + +Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth +and uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in +Tormance. + +"How has this come about--and how did you know it?" + +"They were Faceny's organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen's +body vanished." + +Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. "I feel more human without them. +But why isn't the rest of my body affected?" + +"Because its living will contains the element of Thire." + +"Why are we stopping here?" + +Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and +proffered it to him. "Eat this, Maskull." + +"For food, or something else?" + +"Food for body and soul." + +Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was +bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a +change of perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or +outline, became several degrees more stern and sacred. When he +looked at Corpang he was impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, +but the perplexed expression was still in his eyes. + +"Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?" + +"Occasionally I go above, but not often." + +"What fastens you to this gloomy world?" + +"The search for Thire." + +"Then it's still a search?" + +"Let us walk on." + +As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain, +the conversation became even more earnest in character than before. +"Although I was not born here," proceeded Corpang, "I've lived here +for twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing +nearer to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it-- +the first stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the +later ones. The longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to +absent himself. In the beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as +a shape, sometimes as a voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. +Later on all is dry, dark, and harsh in the soul. Then you would +think that Thire was a million miles off." + +"How do you explain that?" + +"When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull." + +"But this is troubling you?" + +"My days are spent in torture." + +"You still persist, though? This day darkness can't be the ultimate +state?" + +"My questions will be answered." + +A silence ensued. + +"What do you propose to show me?" asked Maskull. + +"The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three +Figures, which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. +There, we will pray." + +"And what then?" + +"If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily +forget." + +They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two +parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the +hills on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley +and, as it curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from +view. They came to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It +formed a trickling brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that +it was flowing up the valley instead of down. Before long it was +joined by other miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a +fair-sized stream. Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his +forehead. + +"Nature has other laws here, it seems?" + +"Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds." + +"Yet the water is flowing somewhere." + +"I can't explain it, but there are three wills in it." + +"Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?" + +"Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without +Faceny." + +Maskull thought this over for some minutes. "That must be so," he +said at last. "Without life there can be no love, and without love +there can be no religious feeling." + +In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the +valley presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. +The sides were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew +narrower at every step. Not a living organism was visible. All was +unnatural and sepulchral. + +Maskull said, "I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another +world." + +"I still do not know what you are doing here," answered Corpang. + +"Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur." + +"That name I've heard--but under what circumstances?" + +"You forget?" + +Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously +troubled. "Who is Surtur?" + +Maskull shook his head, and said nothing. + +The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching +fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the +rock walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de- +sac, but just when the road seemed least promising, and they were +shut in by cliffs on all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought +them suddenly into the open. They emerged through a mere crack in +the line of precipices. + +A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to +the way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few +hundred yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm +with perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred +feet, but its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, +facing one another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in +width; they too proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull +and Corpang emerged onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite +was a few feet higher than that on which they stood. The platforms +were backed by a double line of lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose +tops were invisible. + +The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight +forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a +waterfall, it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It +then disappeared through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side. + +To Maskull's mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural +phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here +than on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of +phantoms. + +Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. +When they had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred +feet. Three large rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they +resembled three upright giants, standing motionless side by side on +the extreme edge of the chasm. Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and +then Maskull saw that they were statues. Each was about thirty feet +high, and the workmanship was of the rudest. They represented naked +men, but the limbs and trunks had been barely chipped into shape-- +the faces alone had had care bestowed on them, and even these faces +were merely generalised. It was obviously the work of primitive +artists. The statues stood erect with knees closed and arms hanging +straight down their sides. All three were exactly alike. + +As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted. + +"Is this a representation of your three Beings?" asked Maskull, awed +by the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity. + +"Ask no questions, but kneel," replied Corpang. He dropped onto his +own knees, but Maskull remained standing. + +Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a +few minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, +but he continued looking. + +It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. +Sight and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit. + +Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it +had ceased to be a statue--it was a living person. Out of the +blackness of space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by +a mystic, rosy glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. +As the light grew stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent +and that the glow came from within. The limbs of the apparition were +wreathed in mist. + +Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was +that of a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty +of a girl and the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic +smile. Maskull felt the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and +rapture of one who awakes from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the +gleaming, dark, delicate colours of the half-dawn. The vision +smiled, kept still, and looked beyond him. He began to shudder, with +delight--and many emotions. As he gazed, his poetic sensibility +acquired such a nervous and indefinable character that he could +endure it no more; he burst into tears. + +When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a +few moments more he was plunged back into total darkness. + +Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was +transfigured into a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the +details of its face and body, because of the brightness of the light +that radiated from them. This light, which started as pale gold, +ended as flaming golden fire. It illumined the whole underground +landscape. The rock ledges, the cliffs, himself and Corpang on their +knees, the two unlighted statues--all appeared as if in sunlight, +and the shadows were black and strongly defined. The light carried +heat with it, but a singular heat. Maskull was unaware of any rise +in temperature, but he felt his heart melting to womanish softness. +His male arrogance and egotism faded imperceptibly away; his +personality seemed to disappear. What was left behind was not +freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate and nearly +savage mental state of pity and distress. He felt a tormenting +desire to serve. All this came from the heat of the statue, and was +without an object. He glanced anxiously around him, and fastened his +eyes on Corpang. He put a hand on his shoulder and aroused him from +his praying. + +"You must know what I am feeling, Corpang." + +Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing. + +"I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?" + +"So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to +the invisible worlds." + +As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light +to die away from the landscape. Maskull's emotion slowly subsided, +but it was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he +became master of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish +exhibition of enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be +something wanting in his character. He got up onto his feet. + +The very moment that he arose, a man's voice sounded, not a yard from +his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could +distinguish that it was not Corpang's. As he listened he was unable +to prevent himself from physically trembling. + +"Maskull, you are to die," said the unseen speaker. + +"Who is speaking?" + +"You have only a few hours of life left. Don't trifle the time +away." + +Maskull could bring nothing out. + +"You have despised life," went on the low-toned voice. "Do you +really imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life +is a joke?" + +"What must I do?" + +"Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to..." + +The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak +again. All remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have +taken his departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a +sort of catalepsy. + +At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, +white glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining. + +In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang +got up, and shook him out of his trance. + +Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. "Whose statue was +the last?" he demanded. + +"Did you hear me speaking?" + +"I heard your voice, but no one else's." + +"I've just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long to +live. Leehallfae prophesied the same thing." + +Corpang shook his head. "What value do you set on life?" he asked. + +"Very little. But it's a fearful thing all the same." + +"Your death is?" + +"No, but this warning." + +They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the +two men seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of +them heard the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and +impressive, a long way off and not loud, but against the background +of quietness, very marked. It appeared to come from some point out +of sight, to the left of where they were standing, but on the same +rock shelf. Maskull's heart beat quickly. + +"What can that sound be?" asked Corpang, peering into the obscurity. + +"It is Surtur." + +"Once again, who is Surtur?" + +Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange +radiance was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It +increased in intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. +Things were no longer seen by Thire's light, but by this new light. +It cast no shadows. + +Corpang's nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. "What +fire is that?" + +"It is Muspel-light." + +They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange +glow they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was +clothed in the sordid and horrible Crystalman mask. + +Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. "What can this +mean?" he asked a minute later. + +"It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, +whether he is one person or three." + +Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a +shocking sight. "Dare we believe this?" + +"You must," replied Maskull. "You have always served the highest, +and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire +is not the highest." + +Corpang's face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. "Life is +clearly false--I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I +find--this." + +"You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had +eternity to practice his cunning in, so it's no wonder if a man can't +see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided +to do?" + +"The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?" + +"Yes." + +"But where will it take us?" + +"Perhaps out of Threal altogether." + +"It sounds to me more real than reality," said Corpang. "Tell me, +who is Surtur?" + +"Surtur's world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which +this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is +other than life." + +"How do you know this?" + +"It has sprung together somehow--from inspiration, from experience, +from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it +grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape." + +Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, +energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. "I believe +you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not +the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but +the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am +coming with you--but don't play the traitor. These signs may be for +you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me--" + +"I make no promises. I don't ask you to come with me. If you prefer +to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you +had better not come." + +"Don't talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me... +Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound." + +Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in +the direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went +along the ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance +gradually departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. +The rhythmical beats continued, but a very long way ahead--neither +was able to diminish the distance. + +"What kind of man are you?" Corpang suddenly broke out. + +"In what respect?" + +"How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it +that I've never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my +never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you +superior to me?" + +"To hear voices perhaps can't be made a profession," replied Maskull. +"I have a simple and unoccupied mind--that may be why I sometimes +hear things that up to the present you have not been able to." + +Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to +his pride. + +The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform +on the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to +the right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a +bridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line +of precipices immediately confronted them. They followed the +drumming along the base of these heights, but as they were passing +the mouth of a large cave the sound came from its recesses, and they +turned their steps inward. + +"This leads to the outer world," remarked Corpang. "I've +occasionally been there by this passage." + +"Then that's where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan't be +sorry to see sunlight once more." + +"Can you find time to think of sunlight?" asked Corpang with a rough +smile. + +"I love the sun, and perhaps I'm rather lacking in the spirit of a +zealot." + +"Yet, for all that, you may get there before me." + +"Don't be bitter," said Maskull. "I'll tell you another thing. +Muspel can't be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not +concern the will. To will is a property of this world." + +"Then what is your journey for?" + +"It's one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the +walk, and quite another to run there at top speed." + +"Perhaps I'm not so easily deceived as you think," said Corpang with +another smile. + +The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a +steep ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and +they had to climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was +reminded of the confined dreams of his childhood. + +Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the +last stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, +all dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a +hillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang +followed closely at his heels, He was obliged to shield his eyes with +his hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell's +blinding rays. + +"The drum beats have stopped!" he exclaimed suddenly. + +"You can't expect music all the time," answered Maskull dryly. "We +mustn't be luxurious." + +"But now we have no guide. We're no better off than before." + +"Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, +Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north." + +"That will take us to Lichstorm." + +Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. "I +saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now +as they did them, and there's not much of the day left. How far is +Lichstorm from here?" + +Corpang looked away to the distant range. "I don't know, but unless +a miracle happens we shan't get there tonight." + +"I have a feeling," said Maskull, "that we shall not only get there +tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life." + +And he sat down passively to rest. + + + +Chapter 18 + +HAUNTE + +While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his +arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed +impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he +stopped short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. "What do +you intend to do?" + +Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant +mountains. "Since we can't walk, we must wait." + +"For what?" + +"I don't know... How's this, though? Those peaks have changed +colour, from red to green." + +"Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way." + +"The lich wind?" + +"It's the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the +mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as +Threal." + +"It's a sort of fog, then?" + +"A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions." + +"So we are to have lovemaking," said Maskull, laughing. + +"Perhaps you won't find it so joyous," replied Corpang a little +grimly. + +"But tell me--these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?" + +Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast +fading into obscurity. + +"Passion keeps them from falling." + +Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of +spirit. "What, the love of rock for rock?" + +"It is comical, but true." + +"We'll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the mountains is +Barey, is it not?" + +"Yes." + +"And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?" + +"That is told only to those who die beside it." + +"Is the secret so precious, Corpang?" + +Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than +two hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became +murky. It was a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm +Range now appeared only as a blur on the sky. The air was electric +and tingling, and was exciting in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of +emotional inflammation, as though a very slight external cause would +serve to overturn his self-control. Corpang stood silent with a +mouth like iron. + +Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. + +"That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something +from the top." + +Without waiting for his companion's opinion, he began to scramble up +the tower, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang +joined him. + +From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to +the sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. +Leaving all that, however, Maskull's eyes immediately fastened +themselves on a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, +which was travelling rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet +in the air. + +"What do you make of that?" he asked in a tone of astonishment. + +Corpang shook his head and said nothing. + +Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished +the distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and +more, but its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was +continually jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. +Maskull now made out a man sitting in the stern, and what looked like +a large dead animal lying amidships. As the aerial craft drew +nearer, he observed a thick, blue haze underneath it, and a similar +haze behind, but the front, facing them, was clear. + +"Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth +carries it?" + +He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had +not been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and +made wild motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a +few hundred yards distant, slightly altered its course, now heading +toward them in a way that left no doubt that the steersman had +detected their presence. + +The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a +walking man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was +shaped rather queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides +tapered off from a flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled +stern. The flat bottom was not above ten feet from the ground. It +was undecked, and carried only one living occupant; the other object +they had distinguished was really the carcass of an animal, of about +the size of a large sheep. The blue haze trailing behind the boat +appeared to emanate from the glittering point of a short upright pole +fastened in the stem. When the craft was within a few feet of them, +and they were looking down at it in wonder from above, the man +removed this pole and covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. +The forward motion then ceased altogether, and the boat began to +drift hither and thither, but still it remained suspended in the air, +while the haze underneath persisted. Finally the broad side came +gently up against the pile of rocks on which they were standing. The +steersman jumped ashore and immediately clambered up to meet them. + +Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a +young man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. +His limbs were quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately +long, and he had the biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever +seen in a man. His hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with +protruding teeth, and a spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and +brows sloped upward. On his forehead was an organ which looked as +though it had been mutilated--it was a mere disagreeable stump of +flesh. His hair was short and thin. Maskull could not name the +colour of his skin, but it seemed to stand in the same relation to +jale as green to red. + +Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two +companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. +Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be +the first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the +background. + +"What men are you?" demanded the aerial navigator at last. His voice +was extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It +sounded to Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way +through a narrow orifice. + +"I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where +I come from, don't ask." + +"I am Haunte, from Sarclash." + +"Where may that be?" + +"Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got +too murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm." + +"Are you returning there now?" + +"Yes." + +"And how long will it take to get there in that boat?" + +"Two--three hours." + +"Will it accommodate us too?" + +"What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?" + +"To see the sights," responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. "But +first of all, to dine. I can't remember having eaten all day. You +seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won't lack for +food." + +Haunte eyed him quizzically. "You certainly don't lack impudence. +However, I'm a man of that sort myself, and it is the sort I prefer. +Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a meal of a +stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up out +of a dark hole." + +Maskull took Corpang's arm, and constrained him to silence. + +"Where have you been hunting, Haunte?" + +"Matterplay. I had the worst luck--I speared one wold horse, and +there it lies." + +"What is Lichstorm like?" + +"There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no +men-women, as with you." + +"What do you call men-women?" + +"Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are +pure." + +"I have always regarded myself as a man." + +"Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?" + +"Why, do you?" + +Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. "Things are different in +Lichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?" + +"I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what +you say." + +"Then I'll introduce you to Sullenbode." + +He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly +uttered a great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook. + +"Let us share the joke," said Maskull. + +"Oh, you'll understand it later." + +"If you play pranks with me, I won't stand on ceremony with you." + +Haunte laughed again. "I won't be the one to play pranks. +Sullenbode will be deeply obliged to me. If I don't visit her myself +as often as she would like, I'm always glad to serve her in other +ways.... Well, you shall have your boat ride." + +Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. "If the sexes hate one another +in your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?" + +"In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm +there is hard passion." + +"But what do you call hard passion?" + +"Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure." + +"I intend to understand, before I've finished." + +"Yes," answered Haunte, with a taunting look, "it would be a pity to +let the chance slip, since you're going to Lichstorm." + +It was now Corpang's turn to take Maskull by the arm. "This journey +will end badly." + +"Why so?" + +"Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women." + +"Let me alone," said Maskull. "Give luck a slack rein. What brought +this boat here?" + +"What is this talk about Muspel?" demanded Haunte. + +Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his +eyes. "What do you know?" + +"Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high +time to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn't child's play, +let me tell you." + +"I shall not forget," said Corpang. + +Maskull gazed down at the boat. "Are we to get in?" + +"Gently, my friend. It's only canework and skin." + +"First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived to +dispense with the laws of gravitation." + +Haunte smiled sarcastically. "A secret in your ear, Maskull. All +laws are female. A true male is an outlaw--outside the law." + +"I don't understand." + +"The great body of the earth is continually giving out female +particles, and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally +continually trying to reach them. That's gravitation." + +"Then how do you manage with your boat?" + +"My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat +prevents it from falling to the ground; the one in the stem shuts it +off from solid objects in the rear. The only part of the boat +attracted by any part of the earth is the bow, for that's the only +part the light of the male stones does not fall on. So in that +direction the boat travels." + +"And what are these wondrous male stones?" + +"They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they +are showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all +the female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are +left over to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not +in the least attracted in that direction." + +Maskull ruminated for a minute. + +"With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very +handy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun's sinking, and we'd +better start." + +"Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then +you and your gloomy friend can sit amidships." + +Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; +but then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail +bottom, still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely +disappear, as though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt +water, but the rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of +electricity, and he was able to withdraw his hands only with +difficulty. + +After the first moment's shock, he quietly accepted the new order of +things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no +weight in the boat this was effected without any great labour. +Corpang then descended. The astonishing physical change had no power +to disturb his settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. +Haunte came last; grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, +he proceeded to erect it, after removing the cap. Maskull then +obtained his first near view of the mysterious light, which, by +counteracting the forces of Nature, acted indirectly not only as +elevator but as motive force. In the last ruddy gleams of the great +sun, its rays were obscured, and it looked little more impressive +than an extremely brilliant, scintillating blue-white jewel, but its +power could be gauged by the visible, coloured mist that it threw out +for many yards around. + +The steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to +the top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment +of the male stone's rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be +shut off at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial +vessel quietly detached itself from the rock to which it had been +drawn, and passed slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. +Branchspell sank below the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out +everything outside a radius of a few miles. The air grew cool and +fresh. + +Soon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte +withdrew the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. + +"You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night," +exclaimed Maskull. "I would have thought it impossible." + +Haunte grunted. "You will have to take risks, and think yourself +fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. +But one thing I can tell you--if you go on disturbing me with your +chitchat we shan't get as far as the mountains." + +Thereafter Maskull was silent. + +The twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to +look at, but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to +the never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of +gravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing +of a small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy. +Haunte, from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with +one eye. The darkness now came on rapidly. + +About ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they +arrived at the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There +was no daylight left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides +of them and in the rear, the landscape was lighted up for a +considerable distance by the now vivid blue rays of the twin male +stones. Ahead, where these rays did not shine, Haunte was guided by +the self-luminous nature of the rocks, grass, and trees. These were +faintly phosphorescent; the vegetation shone out more strongly than +the soil. + +The moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore +inferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or +twice, from his sensations of choking, he thought that they were +entering a fogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the +effect of doubling the intensity of every light in front of them. +Whenever this happened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he +experienced transitory, unreasoning fright and horror. + +Now they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills +from the mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many +thousands of feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to +manoeuvre carefully with the rear light in order to keep clear of +them. Maskull watched the delicacy of his movements, not without +admiration. A long time went by. It grew much colder; the air was +damp and drafty. The fog began to deposit something like snow on +their persons. Maskull kept sweating with terror, not because of the +danger they were in, but because of the cloud banks that continued to +envelop them. + +They cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this +time with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours +illuminated by the male stones through which they passed, they were +soon altogether out of sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite +unexpectedly the moon broke through. In the upper atmosphere thick +masses of fog were seen crawling hither and thither, broken in many +places by thin rifts of sky, through one of which Teargeld was +shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic peak, glittering with +green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and was then swallowed up +again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the mist. The moon +went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him long for +the aerial voyage to end. + +The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a +new cliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, +downward, and on both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. +After coasting it a little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting +out. It was square, measuring about a dozen feet each way. Green +snow covered it to a depth of some inches. Immediately behind it was +a dark slit in the rock, which promised to be the mouth of a cave. + +Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he +raised the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then +removed both male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. +His face was thrown into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue- +white rays. It looked rather surly. + +"Do we get out?" inquired Maskull. + +"Yes. I live here." + +"Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey." + +"Yes, it has been touch-and-go." + +Corpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. "There +has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely +a ferryman, Haunte." + +"Is that so?" returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. "I +thought I was carrying men, not gods." + +"Where are we?" asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but Haunte +remained standing a minute in the boat. + +"This is Sarclash--the second highest mountain in the land." + +"Which is the highest, then?" + +"Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge--very +difficult in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest +point, lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to +Barey. Now you know the lay of the land." + +"Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?" + +"Near enough." Haunte grinned. + +He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without +ceremony, walked straight into the cave. + +Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led +to a doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host +pushed his way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. +Maskull made no comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it +away from its fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, +and then stared hard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but +neither said anything. + +The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, +with walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two +doorways: that by which they had entered, and another of smaller size +directly opposite. The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft +passed from door to door. Many skins of wild animals lay scattered +on the ground. A number of lumps of sun-dried flesh were hanging on +a string along the wall, and a few bulging liquor skins reposed in a +corner. There were tusks, horns, and bones everywhere. Resting +against the wall were two short hunting spears, having beautiful +crystal heads. + +Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther +door; their light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to +the meat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. + +"Are we invited to the feast?" asked Maskull. + +Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did +not pause in his chewing. + +"Where's a cup?" inquired Maskull, lifting one of the skins. + +Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it +up, undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled +the cup. Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He +tossed off the draught, and then felt much better. + +The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single +sip, swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He +refused to drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull +finished the cup, and began to throw off care. + +Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat +down on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and +coarse, but he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not +understand the flavour, which was not surprising in a world of +strange animals. The meal proceeded in silence. Corpang ate +sparingly, standing up, and afterward lay down on a bundle of furs. +His bold eyes watched all the movements of the other two. Haunte had +not drunk as yet. + +At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed +pleasantly, and prepared to talk. + +"Now explain further about your women, Haunte." + +Haunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off +the string with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in +quick succession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to +Maskull. + +"Well?" + +"So they are objectionable?" + +"They are deadly." + +"Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?" + +"You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had +some bad feelings, eh?" + +"I don't conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were +struggling with a nightmare. What caused it?" + +"The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion." + +"I had no passion." + +"That was passion--the first stage. Nature tickles your people into +marriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You'll +have a return of those sensations--only ten times worse. The drink +you've had will see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?" + +"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you questions." + +Haunte laughed loudly. "Sullenbode." + +"You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?" + +"But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, +fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?" + +Maskull coolly drank another cup. "And why should she give all that +to a passerby?" + +"Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn't it to give. No, what she will +give you, and what you'll accept from her, because you can't help it, +is--anguish, insanity, possibly death." + +"You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why +should I accept insanity and death?" + +"Because your passion will force you to." + +"What about yourself?" Maskull asked, biting his nails. + +"Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune." + +"Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?" + +"Yes, but don't attempt any tricks, Maskull." + +Maskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. "So +men and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?" +he proceeded at last. + +"That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love +between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, +it is Maskull's female ancestors who are loving her. But here in +this land the men are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the +female side." + +"Where do the male stones come from?" + +"Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff +somewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure +female world. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without +individual shapes." + +"Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?" + +"The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is +dangerous to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?" + +Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. "I remind you of +your promise to tell about Muspel." + +Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. "Ha! The underground +man has come to life." + +"Yes, tell us," put in Maskull carelessly. + +Haunte drank, and laughed a little. "Well, the tale's short, and +hardly worth telling, but since you're interested.... A stranger came +here five years ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was +Lodd. He came from the east. He came up to me one bright morning in +summer, outside this very cave. If you ask me to describe him--I +can't imagine a second man like him. He looked so proud, noble, +superior, that I felt my own blood to be dirty by comparison. You +can guess I don't have this feeling for everyone. Now that I am +recalling him, he was not so much superior as different. I was so +impressed that I rose and talked to him standing. He inquired the +direction of the mountain Adage. He went on to say, 'They say +Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you know of such a +thing?' I told him the truth--that I knew nothing about it, and then +he went on, 'Well, I am going to Adage. And tell those who come +after me on the same errand that they had better do the same thing.' +That was the whole conversation. He started on his way, and I've +never seen him or heard of him since." + +"So you didn't have the curiosity to follow him?" + +"No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in the +man somehow seemed to vanish." + +"Probably because he was useless to you." + +Corpang glanced at Maskull. "Our road is marked out for us." + +"So it would appear," said Maskull indifferently. + +The talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, +and grew restless. + +"What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in +daylight? It struck me as strange." + +"Dolm," said Haunte. + +"A compound of ulfire and blue," explained Corpang. + +"Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger." + +"What colours have you in your world?" asked Corpang. + +"Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how +it comes about I can't imagine." + +"There are two sets of three primary colours here," said Corpang, +"but as one of the colours--blue--is identical in both sets, +altogether there are five primary colours." + +"Why two sets?" + +"Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and +red; Alppain, ulfire, blue, and jale." + +"It's remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me before." + +"So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity of +nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a +contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In +yellow light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red +is feeling. When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal +feelings.... As regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the +middle and is therefore not existence, but relation. Ulfire is +existence; so it must be a different sort of existence." + +Haunte yawned. "There are marvellous philosophers in your +underground hole." + +Maskull got up and looked about him. + +"Where does that other door lead to?" + +"Better explore," said Haunte. + +Maskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging +the curtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose +abruptly and hurried after him. + +Corpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit +skins, untied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to +the floor. Next he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the +points between his hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, +Haunte and Maskull reappeared. The host's quick, shifty eyes at once +took in what had happened. He smiled, and turned pale. + +"You haven't been idle, friend." + +Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. "I thought it well +to draw your teeth." + +Maskull burst out laughing. "The toad's come into the light to some +purpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?" + +Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, +suddenly uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung +himself upon him. The two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They +were as often on the floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not +see who was getting the better of it. He made no attempt to separate +them. A thought came into his head and, snatching up the two male +stones, he ran with them, laughing, through the upper doorway, into +the open night air. + +The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A +narrow ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the +right; it was the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over +the edge of the chasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they +sank more like feathers than stones, and left a long trail of vapour +behind. While Maskull was still watching them disappear, Haunte came +rushing out of the cavern, followed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull's +arm excitedly. + +"What in Krag's name have you done?" + +"Overboard they have gone," replied Maskull, renewing his laughter. + +"You accursed madman!" + +Haunte's luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal +light were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme +exertion of his will. + +"You know this kills me?" + +"Haven't you been doing your best this last hour to make me ripe for +Sullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!" + +"You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth." + +Haunte's jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a +sick man--yet somehow his face had become nobler. + +"I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my being +also very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the +same errand--which doesn't appear to have struck you yet." + +"But why this errand at all?" asked Corpang quietly. "Can't you men +exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?" + +Haunte fixed him with wild eyes. "No. The phantoms come trooping in +on me already." + +He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again. + +"And I cannot wait.... the game is started." + +Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, +Haunte in front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that +extreme caution was demanded. The way was lighted by the self- +luminous snow and rocks. + +When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of +the party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down. + +"The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse." + +Haunte turned back. "Then you are a doomed man." + +Maskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation, +imagined that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, +supernatural being, who was trying to clasp him. He was filled with +horror, trembled violently, yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled +off his face in great drops. The waking nightmare lasted a long +time, but during that space it kept coming and going. At one moment +the vision seemed on the point of departing; the next it almost took +shape--which he knew would be his death. Suddenly it vanished +altogether--he was free. A fresh spring breeze fanned his face; he +heard the slow, solitary singing of a sweet bird; and it seemed to +him as if a poem had shot together in his soul. Such flashing, +heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before in all his life! +Almost immediately that too vanished. + +Sitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, +like one who has been visited by an angel. + +"Your colour changed to white," said Corpang. "What happened?" + +"I passed through torture to love," replied Maskull simply. + +He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. "Will you not describe +that passage?" + +Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. "When I was in Matterplay, +I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, +living animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now +seemed to consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of +joy. The joy would not have been possible without the preliminary +nightmare. It is not accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth +has just flashed through my brain.... You men of Lichstorm don't go +far enough. You stop at the pangs, Without realising that they are +birth pangs." + +"If this is true, you are a great pioneer," muttered Haunte. + +"How does this sensation differ from common love?" interrogated +Corpang. + +"This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness." + +Corpang fingered his chin awhile. "The Lichstorm men, however, will +never reach this stage, for they are too masculine." + +Haunte turned pale. "Why should we alone suffer?" + +"Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn't act according to +justice.... Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all." + +"I'll see," muttered Haunte. "Perhaps I will." + +"Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?" inquired Maskull. + +"No, her home's under the hanging cap of Sarclash." + +"What is to happen tonight?" Maskull spoke to himself, but Haunte +answered him. + +"Don't expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just occurred. +She is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will draw +her out into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were +permanent, you would have endowed her with a soul." + +"Perhaps the change might be made permanent." + +"To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as +well. But why should she desire you?" + +"Nothing turns out as one expects," said Maskull, shaking his head. +"We had better get on again." + +They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a +corner of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep +gully, which mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were +compelled to use both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while +of nothing but the overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. + +The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, +and bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. + +"This must be under the cap," said Maskull. + +"It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode." + +When he spoke his words, Maskull's lips surprised him by their tender +sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills +throughout his body. + +The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into +sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but +no leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her +beautiful light--a mingling of jale and white--gleamed softly +through the darkness. She sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She +was clothed in a singular skin garment, which started as a cloak +thrown over one shoulder, and ended as loose breeches terminating +above the knees. Her forearms were lightly folded, and in one hand +she held a half-eaten fruit. + +Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He +thought he had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was +almost melting in its softness. So undeveloped were the facial +organs that they looked scarcely human; only the lips were full, +pouting, and expressive. In their richness, these lips seemed like a +splash of vivid will on a background of slumbering protoplasm. Her +hair was undressed. Its colour could not be distinguished. It was +long and tangled, and had been tucked into her garment behind, for +convenience. + +Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly +agitated. Maskull's heart was hammering away under his chest. +Haunte pulled him, and said, "My head feels as if it were being torn +from my shoulders." + +"What can that mean?" + +"Yet there's a horrible joy in it," added Haunte, with a sickly +smile. + +He put his hand on the woman's shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced +up at them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did +not imagine that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte +suddenly dropped on his knees, and kissed her lips. + +She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull +noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features +emerged from their indistinctness and became human, and almost +powerful. The smile faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust +Haunte away, rose to her feet, and stared beneath bent brows at the +three men, each one in turn. Maskull came last; his face she studied +for quite a long time, but nothing indicated what she thought. + +Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She +suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, +he fell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in +contact with an electric wire. The back of his head struck the +ground, and he lay there motionless. + +Corpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had +happened, he left him where he was. + +"Maskull, come here quickly!" + +The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte's skin, as Maskull bent +over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had +been split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with +strange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow +from an axe. + +"This couldn't be from the fall," said Maskull. + +"No, Sullenbode did it." + +Maskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her +former attitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had +vanished from her face, and she was again smiling. + + + +Chapter 19 + +SULLENBODE + +Sullenbode's naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the +clothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her +senseless, smiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through +his body. + +Corpang spoke out of the night. "She looks like an evil spirit +filled with deadliness." + +"It was like deliberately kissing lightning." + +"Haunte was insane with passion." + +"So am I," said Maskull quietly. "My body seems full of rocks, all +grinding against one another." + +"This is what I was afraid of." + +"It appears I shall have to kiss her too." + +Corpang pulled his arm. "Have you lost all manliness?" + +But Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at +his beard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After +this had gone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the +woman, and lifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright +against the rugged tree trunk, he kissed her. + +A cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it +was death, and lost consciousness. + +When his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder +with one hand at arm's length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. +At first he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had +kissed, but another. Then he gradually realised that her face was +identical with that which Haunte's action had called into existence. +A great calmness came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. + +Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, +her features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of +power. She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and +movements. Her face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely +lighted, while the mouth crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. +The lips were as voluptuous as before. Her brows were heavy. There +was nothing vulgar in her--she looked the kingliest of all women. +She appeared not more than twenty-five. + +Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little +way and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth +into a long, bowlike smile. "Whom have I to thank for this gift of +life?" + +Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream. + +"My name is Maskull." + +She motioned to him to come a step nearer. "Listen, Maskull. Man +after man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me +there, for I did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for +all time, for good or evil." + +Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said +quietly, "What have you to say about him?" + +"Who was it?" + +"Haunte." + +"So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a +famous man." + +"It's a horrible affair. I can't think that you killed him +deliberately." + +"We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only +protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them." + +"I might have died, too." + +"You came together?" + +"There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there." + +"I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?" + +"Nothing." + +"Then go away, and leave me with Maskull." + +"No need, Corpang. I am coming with you." + +"This is not that pleasure, then?" demanded the low, earnest voice, +out of the darkness. + +"No, that pleasure has not returned." + +Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. "What pleasure are you speaking +of?" + +"A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago." + +"But what do you feel now?" + +"Calm and free." + +Sullenbode's face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling +sea of elemental passions. "I do not know how it will end, Maskull, +but we will still keep together a little. Where are you going?" + +"To Adage," said Corpang, stepping forward. + +"But why?" + +"We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to +find Muspel-light." + +"It's the light of another world." + +"The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?" + +"On one condition," said Corpang. "They must forget their sex. +Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life." + +"I give you all other men," said Sullenbode. "Maskull is mine." + +"No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of +the existence of nobler things." + +"You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to +Adage." + +"Are you acquainted with it?" + +Again the woman gripped Maskull's arm. "What is love--which Corpang +despises?" + +Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, "Love is that +which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the +sake of the beloved." + +Corpang wrinkled his forehead. "A magnanimous female lover is new in +my experience." + +Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, "Are you +contemplating a sacrifice?" + +She gazed at her feet, and smiled. "What does it matter what my +thoughts are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to +rest first? It's a rough road to Adage." + +"What's in your mind?" demanded Maskull. + +"I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash +and Adage, perhaps I shall turn back." + +"And then?" + +"Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, but +if it is dark it's hardly likely." + +"That's not what I meant. What will become of you after we have +parted company?" + +"I shall return somewhere--perhaps here." + +Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. +"Shall you sink back into--the old state?" + +"No, Maskull, thank heaven." + +"Then how will you live?" + +Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. +There was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. "And who said I +would go on living?" + +Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before +he spoke again. "You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can't +leave you like this." + +Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed. + +"You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us +go.... Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we +others--who aren't so single-minded--can do is to help him to his +destination. We mustn't inquire whether the destination of single- +minded men is as a rule worth arriving at." + +"If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me." + +"Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure." + +Corpang gave a wry smile. "During your long sleep you appear to have +picked up wisdom." + +"Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds." + +As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte. + +"Can we not bury that poor fellow?" + +"By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not +include Corpang." + +"We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I +am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light." + +"Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me." They +left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three +men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. +At the same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse +a steep, pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, +their own bodies shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists +swirled around them, but Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze +was cold, pure, and steady. They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; +her movements were slow and fascinating. Corpang came last. His +stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an alluring girl and a half- +infatuated man. + +For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, +maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a +false step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their +right. After a while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level +ground, and they seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. +The ascending slope on the right hand persisted for a few hundred +yards more. Then Sullenbode bore sharply to the left, and they found +level ground all around them. + +"We are on the ridge," announced the woman, halting. + +The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst +through the clouds, illuminating the whole scene. + +Maskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view +was quite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, +shining down on them from behind. Straight in front, like an +enormously wide, smoothly descending road, lay the great ridge which +went on to Adage, though Adage itself was out of sight. It was never +less than two hundred yards wide. It was covered with green snow, in +some places entirely, but in other places the naked rocks showed +through like black teeth. From where they stood they were unable to +see the sides of the ridge, or what lay underneath. On the right +hand, which was north, the landscape was blurred and indistinct. +There were no peaks there; it was the distant, low-lying land of +Barey. But on the left hand appeared a whole forest of mighty +pinnacles, near and far, as far as the eye could see in moonlight. +All glittered green, and all possessed the extraordinary hanging caps +that characterised the Lichstorm range. These caps were of fantastic +shapes, and each one was different. The valley directly opposite +them was filled with rolling mist. + +Sarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its +two ends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile +or more of empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which +they stood. The southern end was the long line of cliffs on that +part of the mountain where Haunte's cave was situated. The +connecting curve was the steep slope they had just traversed. One +peak of Sarclash was invisible. + +In the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a +few summits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared +over the south side of the horseshoe. + +Maskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw +her for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on +his lips. The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, +and the face, pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly +became almost beautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of +rose-red. Her hair was a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly +disturbed; he thought that she resembled a spirit, rather than a +woman. + +"What puzzles you?" she asked, smiling. + +"Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight." + +"Perhaps you never will." + +"Your life must be most solitary." + +She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. "Why +do you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?" + +"Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means I +can't say." + +Sullenbode laughed outright. "It assuredly does not mean the +approach of night." + +Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly +broke in. "The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I'll go +on alone." + +"No, we'll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us." + +"A little way," said the woman, "but not to Adage, to pit my strength +against unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know how to +renounce love, but I will never be a traitor to it." + +"Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang +is as ignorant as myself." + +Corpang looked him full in the face. "Maskull, you are quite well +aware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of +a beautiful woman." + +Maskull gave an uneasy laugh. "What Corpang doesn't tell you, +Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than +he, and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be +saying his prayers in Threal." + +"Still, what he says must be true," she replied, looking from one to +the other. + +"And so I am not to be allowed to--" + +"So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not backward, +Maskull." + +"We need not quarrel yet," he remarked, with a forced smile. "No +doubt things will straighten themselves out." + +Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. "I picked up +another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang." + +"Tell it to me, then." + +"Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their +strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, +but the law-abiders live at their ease--they have conquered nothing +for themselves." + +"It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and +perfect. You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well." + +"No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm." + +They started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three +were abreast, Sullenbode in the middle. + +The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance +comparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on +Earth, for the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt +almost warm to their naked feet. Maskull's soles were by now like +tough hides. The moonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their +slanting, abbreviated shadows were sharply defined, and red-black in +colour. Maskull, who walked on Sullenbode's right hand, looked +constantly to the left, toward the galaxy of glorious distant peaks. + +"You cannot belong to this world," said the woman. "Men of your +stamp are not to be looked for here." + +"No, I have come here from Earth." + +"Is that larger than our world?" + +"Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With +all those people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and +therefore the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible +without encroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of +adventure among the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and +completed." + +"Do men hate women there, and women men?" + +"No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant +is the sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open +eyes. There is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons." + +"That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. +But now say--why did you come here?" + +"To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer +interested me." + +"How long have you been in this world?" + +"This is the end of my fourth day." + +"Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. +You cannot have been inactive." + +"Great misfortunes have happened to me." + +He proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from +the moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode +listened, with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. +only twice did she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin's +death, she said, speaking in a low voice--"None of us women ought by +right of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one +act of hers, I almost love her, although she brought evil to your +door." Again, speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, "That grand-souled +girl I admire the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and +to nothing else besides. Which of us others is strong enough for +that?" + +When his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, "Does it not strike +you, Maskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than +the men?" + +"I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a +substantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You +love the sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are +naturally noble." + +Turning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so +sweet, that he was struck into silence. + +They tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, "Now you +understand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, +scant pity for anyone--Oh, it has been a bloody journey!" + +She laid her hand on his arm. "I, for one, would not have it less +rugged." + +"Nothing good can be said of my crimes." + +"To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not +what.... The grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause +to look up to women." + +"Thanks, Sullenbode!" he responded, with a troubled smile. + +"When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of +your road. You go on, looking neither to right nor left." + +"Take care that you are not thrown as well," said Corpang gravely. + +"Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for +whatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have +a bag of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have +had it described to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, +selfish joy. It is not that--it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, +and bloody.... How should you know." + +"Selfishness has far too many disguises." + +"If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?" + +"Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too +swift for you both." + +Sullenbode studied him through her lashes. "Do you mean death--his +death as well as mine?" + +"You go too far, Corpang," said Maskull, turning a shade darker. "I +don't accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes." + +"If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead." + +The woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. "I wish you to +stay with us." + +"Why?" + +"I think you may know what you are talking about. I don't wish to +bring harm to Maskull. Presently I'll leave you." + +"That will be best," said Corpang. + +Maskull looked angry. "I shall decide--Sullenbode, whether you go +on, or back, I stay with you. My mind is made up." + +An expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her +efforts to conceal it. "Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?" + +He returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered +brows. After a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. "Wait, +Sullenbode!" + +The others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the +woman smiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her +lips. Then he relinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang. + +"How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?" + +"It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull." + +"Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to +me." + +"Then I say no more; but you are a fated man." + +From that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the +others. + +A heavy gleam appeared in the woman's eyes. "Now things are changed, +Maskull. Where are you taking me?" + +"Choose, you." + +"The man I love must complete his journey. I won't have it otherwise. +You shall not stand lower than Corpang." + +"Where you go, I will go." + +"And I--as long as your love endures, I will accompany you even to +Adage." + +"Do you doubt its lasting?" + +"I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you +before. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love +me no longer, I must die." + +"And why?" asked Maskull slowly. + +"Yes, that's the responsibility you incurred when you kissed me for +the first time. I never meant to tell you." + +"Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?" + +"I have no other life but what you give me." + +He gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then +slowly placed his arms around her body. During this embrace he +turned very pale, but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk. + +A few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed. + +They had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky +and nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the +character of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow +disappeared, and gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little +grassy hillocks and marshes. They began to slip about and become +draggled with mud. Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and +the men followed in her tracks. The southern half of the landscape +grew grander. The greenish light of the brilliant moon, shining on +the multitude of snow-green peaks, caused it to appear like a +spectral world. Their nearest neighbour towered high above them on +the other side of the valley, due south, some five miles distant. It +was a slender, inaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, the angles of +which were too steep to retain snow. A great upward-curving horn +of rock sprang out from its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it +constituted their clues landmark. + +The whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The +surface soil was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed +in the damp mists by night, and breathed them out again by day, under +Branchspell's rays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then +difficult, and finally dangerous. None of the party could +distinguish firm ground from bog. Sullenbode sank up to her waist in +a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her, but after this incident took the +lead himself. Corpang was the next to meet with trouble. Exploring +a new path for himself, he tumbled into liquid mud up to his +shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death. After Maskull had +got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded once more; but +now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had to be +thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the test +frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end +they no longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered +from top to toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. +He not only had the exhausting task of beating the way, but was +continually called upon to help his companions out of their +difficulties. Without him they could not have got through. + +After a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength. +Corpang's breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, +and depressed. + +Maskull gazed at them doubtfully. "Does this continue?" he inquired. + +"No. I think," replied the woman, "we can't be far from the Mornstab +Pass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then the road +will improve perhaps." + +"Can you have been here before?" + +"Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then." + +"You are tired out, Sullenbode." + +"What of it?" she replied, smiling faintly. "When one has a terrible +lover, one must pay the price." + +"We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we +come too." + +"I leave it to you." + +He paced up and down, while the others sat. "Do you regret +anything?" he demanded suddenly. + +"No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing." + +"Your feelings are unchanged?" + +"Love can't go back--it can only go on." + +"Yes, eternally on. It is so." + +"No, I don't mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax has +been reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to +sacrifice." + +"That's a dreadful creed," he said in a low voice, turning pale +beneath his coating of mud. + +"Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don't know what I +feel." + +In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey +recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass. + +The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to +drain off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the +northern edge of the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. +The pass was nothing but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the +ridge, where it was the lowest above the underlying land. A series +of huge broken terraces of earth and rock descended toward Barey. +They were overgrown with stunted vegetation. It was quite possible +to get down to the lowlands that way, but rather difficult. On +either side of the landslip, to cast and west, the ridge came down in +a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. A low haze concealed Barey +from view. Complete stillness was in the air, broken only by the +distant thundering of an invisible waterfall. + +Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open +country. The moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost +as light as an Earth day. + +"Tonight is like life," said Sullenbode. + +"How so?" + +"So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot." + +Maskull sighed. "Poor girl, you are unhappy." + +"And you--are you happy?" + +He thought a while, and then replied--"No. No, I'm not happy. Love +is not happiness." + +"What is it, Maskull?" + +"Restlessness--unshed tears--thoughts too grand for our soul to +think..." + +"Yes," said Sullenbode. + +After a time she asked, "Why were we created, just to live for a few +years and then disappear?" + +"We are told that we shall live again." + +"Yes, Maskull?" + +"Perhaps in Muspel," he added thoughtfully. + +"What kind of life will that be?" + +"Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a +thing to remain uncompleted." + +She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. "This dream is +untrue. Love is completed here." + +"How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by +Fate?" + +"It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment +for us? Can't we suffer--can't we go on suffering, forever and +ever? Maskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and without +remedy, we don't begin to feel ourselves." + +Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. "Can the memory of +love be worth more than its presence and reality?" + +"You don't understand. Those pangs are more precious than all the +rest beside." She caught at him. "Oh, if you could only see inside +my mind, Maskull! You would see strange things.... I can't explain. +It is all confused, even to myself.... This love is quite different +from what I thought." + +He sighed again. "Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong +for human beings. And I think that it overtures our reason in +different ways." + +They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with +unseeing eyes. + +"It doesn't matter," said Sullenbode at last, with a smile, getting +up. "Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, let us be +off!" + +Maskull too got up. + +"Where's Corpang?" he asked listlessly. + +They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the +point where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped +perceptibly toward the southern edge, giving all the earth the +appearance of a heavy list. Toward the west the ground continued +level for a thousand yards, but then a high, sloping, grassy hill +went right across the ridge from side to side, like a vast billow on +the verge of breaking. It shut out all further view beyond. The +whole crest of this hill, from one end to the other, was crowned by a +long row of enormous stone posts, shining brightly in the moonlight +against a background of dark sky. There were about thirty in all, +and they were placed at such regular intervals that there was little +doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some were +perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme +antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen +climbing the hill, not far from the top. + +"He wishes to arrive," said Maskull, watching the energetic ascent +with a rather cynical smile. + +"The heavens won't open for Corpang," returned Sullenbode. "He need +not be in such a hurry.... What do these pillars seem like to you?" + +"They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have +planted them there?" + +She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the +hill, and disappear through the line of posts. + +Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. "Now we two are alone in a +lonely world." + +She regarded him steadily. "Our last night on this earth must be a +grand one. I am ready to go on." + +"I don't think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go down +the pass a little, and find shelter." + +She half smiled. "We won't study our poor bodies tonight. I mean you +to go to Adage, Maskull." + +"Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, +terrible climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?" + +She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand +to him. "Come, Maskull!" + +When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the +foot of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind +the hill, and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at +Sullenbode, but she appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the +whole sky behind and above the long chain of stone posts on the crest +of the hill began to be illuminated by a strange radiance. The +moonlight in that quarter faded; the posts stood out black on a +background of fire. It was the light of Muspel. As the moments +passed, it grew more and more vivid, peculiar, and awful. It was of +no colour, and resembled nothing--it was supernatural and +indescribable. Maskull's spirit swelled. He stood fast, with +expanded nostrils and terrible eyes. + +Sullenbode touched him lightly. + +"What do you see, Maskull?" + +"Muspel-light." + +"I see nothing." + +The light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It +burned with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot +the existence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. +Each beat was like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the +sky and making the air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and +one continuous roar of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm +persisted--the four beats, with the third accented, still came +pulsing through the atmosphere, only now against a background of +thunder, and not of silence. + +Maskull's heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed +to throw it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the +sublime universe which was beginning to unveil itself. + +Sullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed him-- +passionately, again and again. He made no response; he was unaware +of what she was doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and +streaming eyes, went noiselessly away. She started to go back toward +the Mornstab Pass. + +A few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died +down. The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside +were again bright. In a short time the supernatural light had +entirely vanished, but the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled +rhythm, from behind the hill. Maskull started violently, and stared +around him like a suddenly awakened sleeper. + +He saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards +off. At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, +calling out.... She did not look around. When he had lessened the +distance between them by a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and +fall. She did not get up again, but lay motionless where she fell. + +He flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were +realised. Life had departed. + +Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly +Crystalman grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never +appeared so beautiful to him as at that moment. + +He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept--but, +between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, +and listened to the distant drum beats. + +An hour passed--two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. +Maskull lifted Sullenbode's dead body on to his shoulders, and +started to walk toward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He +intended to look for water in which to wash the corpse of his +beloved, and earth in which to bury her. + +When he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which +they had sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead +girl on the stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over +toward Barey. + +After that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass. + + + +Chapter 20 + +BAREY + +The day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull +awoke from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The +air was cool and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was +singing; the song consisted of only two notes, but it was so +plaintive and heartbreaking that he scarcely knew how to endure it. + +The eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band of +chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was blue- +tinted, mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was +visible. + +The saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had +descended that distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, +like a huge flying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay +perhaps fifteen hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was +rough, and the angle was excessively steep, though not precipitous. +It was above a mile across. On each side of it, east and west, the +dark walls of the ridge descended sheer. At the point where the pass +sprang outward they were two thousand feet from top to bottom, but as +the ridge went upward, on the one hand toward Adage, on the other +toward Sarclash, they attained almost unbelievable heights. Despite +the great breadth and solidity of the pass, Maskull felt as though he +were suspended in midair. + +The patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked +Sullenbode's grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, +with a long, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white +steam of a hot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where +he sat he was unable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately +flowed, but it was in that pool that he had last night washed first +of all the dead girl's body, and then his own. + +He got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him +dully. For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed +by imperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. +The sky was nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the +mighty ridge behind him began to emerge from the morning mist... +there was a part of Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic +Adage itself, which he could only take in by throwing his head right +back. + +He gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his +desires were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do +nothing. He thought he would go to Barey. + +He went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting +beside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag. + +Maskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin +shirt and breeches. His face was stem, yellow, and ugly. He eyed +Maskull without smiling or getting up. + +"Where in the devil's name have you come from, Krag?" + +"The great point is, I am here." + +"Where's Nightspore?" + +"Not far away." + +"It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me +in such a damnable fashion?" + +"You were strong enough to get through alone." + +"So it turned out, but how were you to know? .... Anyway, you've +timed it well. It seems I am to die today." + +Krag scowled. "You will die this morning." + +"If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?" + +"You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is +there to live for?" + +"Nothing," said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. "I am quite ready. +I have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... So now +you've come to rejoin me. Where are we going?" + +"Through Barey." + +"And what about Nightspore?" + +Krag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. "We won't wait for him. +He'll be there as soon as we shall." + +"Where?" + +"At our destination.... Come! The sun's rising." + +As they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, +huge and white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of +the dawn vanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some +trees and plants, the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in +sleep. + +Maskull pointed them out to his companion. + +"How is it the sunshine doesn't open them?" + +"Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain." + +"How long will it be before that sun rises?" + +"Some time yet." + +"Shall I live to see it, do you think?" + +"Do you want to?" + +"At one time I did, but now I'm indifferent." + +"Keep in that humour, and you'll do well. Once for all, there's +nothing worth seeing on Tormance." + +After a few minutes Maskull said, "Why did we come here, then?" + +"To follow Surtur." + +"True. But where is he?" + +"Closer at hand than you think, perhaps." + +"Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is +supernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow +connected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what +is Surtur?" + +"Don't disturb yourself about that. You will never know." + +"Do you know?" + +"I know," snarled Krag. + +"The devil here is called Krag," went on Maskull, peering into his +face. + +"As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil." + +"Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I to +believe of you?" + +"Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman." + +They continued descending the landslip. The sun's rays had grown +insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, +Maskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were +travelling toward a lake district. + +"What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days, +Krag? What happened to the torpedo?" + +"You're just about on the same mental level as a man who sees a +brand-new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding." + +"What palace have you been building, then?" + +"We have not been idle," said Krag. "While you have been murdering +and lovemaking, we have had our work." + +"And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?" + +"Oh, you're an open book. Now you've got a mortal heart wound on +account of a woman you knew for six hours." + +Maskull turned pale. "Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman +for six hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your +leather heart. You haven't even the feelings of an insect." + +"Behold the child defending its toys!" said Krag, grinning faintly. + +Maskull stopped short. "What do you want with me, and why did you +bring me here?" + +"It's no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect," said +Krag, pulling him into motion again. "The distance has got to be +covered, however often we pull up." + +When he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through +his heart. + +"I can't go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You're something more +than a man--whether good or evil, I can't say." + +Krag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull's +remark, but after a pause said, "So you've been trying to find Surtur +on your own account, during the intervals between killing and +fondling?" + +"What was that drumming?" demanded Maskull. + +"You needn't look so important. We know you had your ear to the +keyhole. But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing +for you, my friend." + +Maskull smiled rather bitterly. "At all events, I listen through no +more keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and +nothing any more, from this time forward." + +"Brave Words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will +make one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more." + +"Now I don't understand you." + +"You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don't you? Well, that +may prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all." + +The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an +hour later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It +was approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not +it would clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, +massive, saucer-shaped ridge behind them, with its terrific +precipices, was glowing with bright morning colours. Adage, towering +up many thousands of feet higher still, guarded the end of it like a +lonely Colossus. In front of them, starting from where they stood, +was a cool and enchanting wilderness of little lakes and forests. +The water of the lakes was dark green; the forests were asleep, +waiting for the rising of Alppain. + +"Are we now in Barey?" asked Maskull. + +"Yes--and there is one of the natives." + +There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull +did not see it. + +A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees, +apparently waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and +beardless, and was still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark +blue, loosely flowing robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His +face, which was not disfigured by any special organs, was pale, +earnest, and grave, yet somehow remarkably pleasing. + +Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull's hand, but even +while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. +The latter responded with a scowling grin. + +When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating +baritone, but it was at the same time strangely womanish in its +modulations and variety of tone. + +"I've been waiting for you here since sunrise," he said. "Welcome to +Barey, Maskull! Let's hope you'll forget your sorrows here, you +over-tested man." + +Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. "What made you +expect me, and how do you know my name?" + +The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. "I'm +Gangnet. I know most things." + +"Haven't you a greeting for me too--Gangnet?" asked Krag, thrusting +his forbidding features almost into the other's face. + +"I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome." + +"And I know you, Gangnet--you man-woman.... Well, we are here +together, and you must make what you can of it. We are going down to +the Ocean." + +The smile faded from Gangnet's face. "I can't drive you away, Krag-- +but I can make you the unwelcome third." + +Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. "That +bargain suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may +have the shadow, and much good may it do you." + +"Now that it's all arranged so satisfactorily," said Maskull, with a +hard smile, "permit me to say that I don't desire any society at all +at present.... You take too much for granted, Krag. You have played +the false friend once already.... I presume I'm a free agent?" + +"To be a free man, one must have a universe of one's own," said Krag, +with a jeering look. "What do you say, Gangnet--is this a free +world?" + +"Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man's privilege," +returned Gangnet tranquilly. "Maskull is quite within his rights, +and if you'll engage to leave him I'll do the same." + +"Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won't get rid +of me so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull." + +"It doesn't matter," muttered Maskull. "Let everyone join in the +procession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, anyhow, if what +they say is true." + +"I'll lead the way," said Gangnet. "You don't know this country, of +course, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some miles farther +down, we shall be able to travel by water, but at present we must +walk, I fear." + +"Yes, you fear--you fear!" broke out Krag, in a highpitched, +scraping voice. "You eternal loller!" + +Maskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There +seemed to be a determined hostility between the two, which indicated +an intimate previous acquaintance. + +They set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for +a mile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that +flowed beside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured +leaves were all folded. There was no underbrush--they walked on +clean, brown earth, A distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, +but the air was pleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate +them. The bright lake outside looked cool and poetic. + +Gangnet pressed Maskull's arm affectionately. "If the bringing of +you from your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would +have brought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have +escaped the dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to +you." + +"And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the +same." + +"You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference +whether one sees darkness through the light, or brightness through +the shadows." + +"A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly +prefer to know it as it really is." + +"The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman's +thoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and +Pleasantness. Even Krag won't have the effrontery to deny that." + +"It's very nice here," said Krag, looking around him malignantly. +"One only wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to complete it." + +Maskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. "Last night, when I was +struggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight--then I thought +the world beautiful." + +"Poor Sullenbode!" said Gangnet sighing. + +"What! You knew her?" + +"I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show +your own nobility. I think all women are noble." + +"There may be millions of noble women, but there's only one +Sullenbode." + +"If Sullenbode can exist," said Gangnet, "the world cannot be a bad +place." + +"Change the subject.... The world's hard and cruel, and I am thankful +to be leaving it." + +"On one point, though, you both agree," said Krag, smiling evilly. +"Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad." + +Gangnet glanced at him coldly. "We know your peculiar theories, +Krag. You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world +could not go on being, without pleasure." + +"So Gangnet thinks!" jeered Krag. + +They came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a +little cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh +series of lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big +mountain slope, built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose +border they had been travelling was not banked at the end, but +overflowed to the lower level in half a dozen beautiful, threadlike +falls, white and throwing off spray. The cliff was not +perpendicular, and the men found it easy to negotiate. + +At the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and +they had nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled +through the heart of it; they followed its bank. + +"It has occurred to me," said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, "that +Alppain may be my death. Is that so?" + +"These trees don't fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is a +wonderful, life-bringing sun." + +"The reason I ask is--I've seen its afterglow, and it produced such +violent sensations that a very little more would have proved too +much." + +"Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain +itself, it will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling +of wills inside you." + +"And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull," said Krag, grinning, +"is Crystalman's trump card." + +"How do you mean?" + +"You'll see. You'll renounce the world so eagerly that you'll want +to stay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations." + +Gangnet smiled. "Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither +enjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?" + +Maskull turned toward Krag. "It's very odd, but I don't understand +your creed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?" + +Krag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. "What, +because they have left off stroking you?" he exclaimed, laughing and +showing his discoloured teeth. + +"Whoever you are, and whatever you want," said Maskull, "you seem +very certain of yourself." + +"Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn't +you! That would be an excellent way of destroying lies." + +Gangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and +picked up two or three objects that resembled eggs. + +"To eat?" asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift. + +"Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one +mustn't insult Krag by offering him a pleasure--especially such a +low pleasure." + +Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the +liquid contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the +remaining, egg out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, +where it broke and stuck, a splash of slime. + +"I don't wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a filthier sight +than a smashed pleasure?" + +Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull's arm. + +After they had alternately walked through forests and descended +cliffs and slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A +steep mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of +miles, during which space the land must have dropped nearly four +thousand feet, at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen +nothing like this immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope +carried an enormous forest on its back. This forest, however, was +different from those they had hitherto passed through. The leaves of +the trees were curled in sleep, but the boughs were so close and +numerous that, but for the fact that they were translucent, the rays +of the sun would have been completely intercepted. As it was, the +whole forest was flooded with light, and this light, being tinged +with the colour of the branches, was a soft and lovely rose. So gay, +feminine, and dawnlike was the illumination, that Maskull's spirits +immediately started to rise, although he did not wish it. + +He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive. + +"What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!" +rasped Krag mockingly. "Why isn't Sullenbode here?" + +Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. +Krag recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a +whit discomposed. + +"Still what I said--was it true or untrue?" + +Maskull gazed at him sternly. "You seem to regard yourself as a +necessary evil. I'm under no obligation to go on with you any +farther. I think we had better part." + +Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness. + +"What do you say--do we part when Maskull pleases, or when I +please?" + +"Keep your temper, Maskull," said Gangnet, showing Krag his back. "I +know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened onto you +there's only one way of making him lose his hold, by ignoring him. +Despise him--say nothing to him, don't answer his questions. If you +refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not here." + +"I'm beginning to be tired of it all," said Maskull. "It seems as if +I shall add one more to my murders, before I have finished." + +"I smell murder in the air," exclaimed Krag, pretending to sniff. +"But whose?" + +"Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on +fire." + +"I'll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this accursed +forest?" + +"It's some way yet, but when we're once out we can take to the water, +and you will be able to rest, and think." + +"And brood comfortably over your sufferings," added Krag. + +None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the +open day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced +to run, rather than walk, and this would have prevented any +conversation, even if they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In +less than half an hour they were through. A flat, open landscape lay +stretched in front of them as far as they could see. + +Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a +succession of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of +tree-covered land. The lake immediately before them had its small +end to the forest. It was there about a third of a mile wide. The +water at the sides and end was shallow, and choked with dolm-colored +rushes; but in the middle, beginning a few yards from the shore, +there was a perceptible current away from them. In view of this +current, it was difficult to decide whether it was a lake or a river. +Some little floating islands were in the shallows. + +"Is it here that we take to the water?" inquired Maskull. + +"Yes, here," answered Gangnet. + +"But how?" + +"One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the +stream." + +Maskull frowned. "Where will it carry us to?" + +"Come, get on, get on!" said Krag, laughing uncouthly. "The +morning's wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are +going to the Ocean." + +"If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?" + +"Gangnet will murder you." + +"You lie!" said Gangnet. "I wish Maskull nothing but good." + +"At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it +matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... +Well, Gangnet, I see you're as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the +work." + +He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, +splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water +was up to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about +fifteen feet from end to end. It was composed of a sort of light +brown peat; there was no form of living vegetation on its surface. +Krag went behind it, and started shoving it toward the current, +apparently without having unduly to exert himself. When it was +within the influence of the stream the others waded out to him, and +all three climbed on. + +The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two +miles an hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and +there was no shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the +edge, and periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on +his haunches next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick +steps, like an animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, +and the width of the stream increased in proportion, until they +seemed to themselves to be floating on the bosom of some broad, +flowing estuary. + +Krag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet's hat, crushing it +together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream. + +"Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?" he asked with a +harsh guffaw--"Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it +somewhere." + +Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. +His dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and +noble, and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man +that was strangely appealing to the feelings. + +"Let Maskull judge," he said with proud composure, "whether I have +anything to be ashamed of." + +"There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head," +muttered Maskull, staring hard at him. + +"A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what +happens when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?" + +"What enterprises?" asked Maskull, in astonishment. + +"What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull." + +"There are two forms of practical activity," replied Gangnet calmly. +"One may either build up, or destroy." + +"No, there's a third species. One may steal--and not even know one +is stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money." + +Maskull raised his eyebrows. "Where have you two met before?" + +"I'm paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull but once upon a time +Gangnet paid me a visit." + +"Where?" + +"In my home--whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief." + +"You are speaking in riddles, and I don't understand you. I don't +know either of you, but it's clear that if Gangnet is a poet, you're +a buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet." + +Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full +length, with his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast +asleep, and snoring disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his +yellow, repulsive face with strong disfavour. + +Two hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile +distant. In front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, +the Lichstorm Mountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had +gathered together. The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to +be of a strange colour. It was an intense jale-blue. The whole +northern atmosphere was stained with ulfire. + +Maskull's mind grew disturbed. "Alppain is rising, Gangnet." + +Gangnet smiled wistfully. "It begins to trouble you?" + +"It is so solemn--tragical, almost--yet it recalls me to Earth. +Life was no longer important--but this is important." + +"Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you +will be like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open +day. Then you will ask yourself how you could have been blind." + +The two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in the +north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary +colours, among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the +principal character of an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding +character of this dawn was wildness. It did not baffle the +understanding, but the heart. Maskull felt no inarticulate craving +to seize and perpetuate the sunrise, and make it his own. Instead of +that, it agitated and tormented him, like the opening bars of a +supernatural symphony. + +When he looked back to the south, Branchspell's day had lost its +glare, and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. +He instinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from +darkness to light. + +"If those were Crystalman's thoughts that you showed me before, +Gangnet, these must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I am +feeling now, he must have felt before me." + +"He is all feeling, Maskull--don't you understand that?" + +Maskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not +reply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the +beginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious +that Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had +by this time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides +they were surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and +shut out all sight of land. Krag was still sleeping--an ugly, +wrinkled monstrosity. + +Maskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its +dark green colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency. + +"Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?" + +"Yes." + +"Then nothing remains except my death." + +"Don't think of death, but life." + +"It's growing brighter--at the same time, more sombre, Krag seems to +be fading away...." + +"There is Alppain!" said Gangnet, touching his arm. + +The deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull +was struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. +His emotions were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his +body. The great blue orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an +awful eye watching him.... it shot above the sea with a bound, and +Alppain's day commenced. + +"What do you feel?" Gangnet still held his arm. + +"I have set myself against the Infinite," muttered Maskull. + +Suddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea +swept through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy. + +"Why, Gangnet--I am nothing." + +"No, you are nothing." + +The mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the +two suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast +by Alppain were not black, but were composed of white daylight. + +"Then nothing can hurt me," said Maskull with a peculiar smile. + +Gangnet smiled too. "How could it?" + +"I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped +away, leaving me clean and free." + +"Do you now understand life, Maskull?" + +Gangnet's face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual +beauty; he looked as if he had descended from heaven. + +"I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this +is life." + +"Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?" said a jeering voice +above them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his feet. + +They both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to +obscure Alppain's disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale. + +"What do you want with us, Krag?" asked Maskull with simple +composure. + +Krag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped +around them. + +"Don't you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?" + +Maskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his +shoulder, and suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the +ground, near the edge of the island raft. His heart was thumping +heavily and queerly; its beating reminded him of the drum taps. He +gazed languidly at the rippling water, and it seemed to him as if he +could see right through it... away, away down... to a strange +fire.... + +The water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island +was transformed into a cloud, and Maskull--alone on it--was +floating through the atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire-- +the fire of Muspel. The light mounted higher and higher, until it +filled the whole world.... + +He floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, +without top or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was +dealing terrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The +rhythmical, clanging sounds were hideous. + +Presently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum +beats. "What are you doing, Krag?" he asked. + +Krag suspended his work, and turned around. + +"Beating on Your heart, Maskull," was his grinning response. + +The cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the +air--but it was not Gangnet--it was Crystalman. He seemed to be +trying to escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and +licking him, whichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire +caught him. He shrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a +vulgar, slobbering face--and then that too disappeared. + +He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly +illuminated by Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet +was no longer there. + +"What is this Ocean called?" asked Maskull, bringing out the words +with difficulty. + +"Surtur's Ocean." + +Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on +his arm. "Where's Nightspore?" he asked suddenly. + +Krag bent over him with a grave expression. "You are Nightspore." + +The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. + +Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, +"Who are you?" + +Krag maintained a gloomy silence. + +Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull's heart, +and he died immediately. + +Krag turned his head around. "The night is really past at last, +Nightspore.... The day is here." + +Nightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull's body. "Why was all +this necessary?" + +"Ask Crystalman," replied Krag sternly. "His world is no joke. He +has a strong clutch--but I have a stronger... Maskull was his, but +Nightspore is mine." + + + +Chapter 21 + +MUSPEL + +The fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all +grew as black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his +companion. The water lapped gently against the side of the island +raft. + +"You say the night is past," said Nightspore. "But the night is +still here. Am I dead, or alive?" + +"You are still in Crystalman's world, but you belong to it no more. +We are approaching Muspel." + +Nightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air--a rhythmical +pulsation, in four-four time. "There is the drumming," he exclaimed. + +"Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?" + +"I half understand it, but I'm all confused." + +"It's evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty deeply," +said Krag. "The sound comes from Muspel, but the rhythm is caused by +its travelling through Crystalman's atmosphere. His nature is rhythm +as he loves to call it--or dull, deadly repetition, as I name it." + +"I remember," said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark. + +The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A +small patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of +them, began faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy +sea around it. + +"Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few like +me?" asked Nightspore. + +"If all escaped, I shouldn't sweat, my friend... There's hard work, +and anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us yonder." + +Nightspore's heart sank. "Have I not yet finished, then?" + +"If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?" + +The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a +tiny oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag's +grim and rocklike features were revealed. + +"I can't face rebirth," said Nightspore. "The horror of death is +nothing to it." + +"You will choose." + +"I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with-- +my own soul." + +"You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight," +said Krag. + +Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall +something. The water around them was so still, colourless, and +transparent, that they scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid +matter at all. Maskull's corpse had disappeared. + +The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of +light grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness +above, below, and on either side of it, began to shape itself into +the semblance of a huge, black wall, without bounds. + +"Is that really a wall we are coming to?" + +"You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is +the gate you have to enter." + +Nightspore's heart beat wildly. + +"Shall I remember?" he muttered. + +"Yes, you'll remember." + +"Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost." + +"There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for +you." + +"You are returning to the struggle?" demanded Nightspore, gnawing his +fingertips. + +"Yes." + +"I dare not." + +The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head +like actual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer +able to look at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous +lightning, but it possessed this further peculiarity--that it seemed +somehow to give out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. +They continued to approach the wall of darkness, straight toward the +door. The glasslike water flowed right against it, its surface +reaching up almost to the threshold. + +They could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening. + +In a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his +back and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded +by the light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed +to enlarge itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered +violently. + +The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and +pulled Nightspore after him. + +Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound-- +blows totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark +and quiet as an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim, +burning passion, which was to light and sound what light itself is to +opaque colour. + +Nightspore pressed his hand to his heart. "I don't know if I can +endure it," he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his person far +more vividly and distinctly than if he had been able to see him. + +"Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious +than on earth. We can't squander the minutes. There are terrible +and tragic affairs to attend to, which won't wait for us... Go in at +once. Stop for nothing." + +"Where shall I go to?" muttered Nightspore. "I have forgotten +everything." + +"Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can't mistake it." + +"Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?" + +"To have your wounds healed." + +Almost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to +the island raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at +once recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was +completely invisible; everything outside was black night. + +The moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore's heart like +a thousand trumpets. + +Straight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a +steep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other +way forward. + +He put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft. +He saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was +perceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, +and deserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a +ladder to heaven. + +After he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. +Each step was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he +were carrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar +chord in his mind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a +window set in a high embrasure. + +On to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a +sort of glass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, +from the world outside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his +senses, causing his blood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a +low, mocking, vulgar laugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at +the next it was like a rhythmical vibration of the air--the silent, +continuous throbbing of some mighty engine. The two sensations were +identical, yet different. They seemed to be related in the same +manner as soul and body. After feeling them for a long time, +Nightspore got down from the embrasure, and continued his ascent, +having meanwhile grown very serious. + +The climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop +at every third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. +When he had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a +second window. Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of +the air, too, had ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as +distinct as before, and its rhythm had become double. There were two +separate pulses; one was in the time of a march, the other in the +time of a waltz. The first was bitter and petrifying to feel, but +the second was gay, enervating, and horrible. + +Nightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was +on the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more +important awaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent +grew more and more exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to +sit down, utterly crushed by his own dead weight. Still, he got to +the third window. + +He climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves +into vision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A +gigantic, self-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying +nearly the whole of it. This sphere was composed entirely of two +kinds of active beings. There were a myriad of tiny green +corpuscles, varying in size from the very small to the almost +indiscernible. They were not green, but he somehow saw them so. +They were all striving in one direction--toward himself, toward +Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any headway. Their +action produced the marching rhythm he had previously felt, but this +rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves, but was a +consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding these +atoms of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light that +gyrated hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with them +wherever they desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the +waltzing rhythm. It seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were +not only being danced about against their will but were suffering +excruciating shame and degradation in consequence. The larger ones +were steadier than the extremely small, a few were even almost +stationary, and one was advancing in the direction it wished to go. + +He turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and +searched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what +he had just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began +to take possession of him. + +On his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him +to be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but +he never dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did +not once permit himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by +the time that he had clambered into the recess, that for several +minutes he could see nothing at all--the world seemed to be spinning +round him rapidly. + +When at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all +was changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants, +animals, and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything +was so magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of +life. In the interior of every individual, of every aggregate of +individuals, of every chemical atom, he clearly perceived the +presence of the green corpuscles. But, according to the degree of +dignity of the life form, they were fragmentary or comparatively +large. In the crystal, for example, the green, imprisoned life was +so minute as to be scarcely visible; in some men it was hardly +bigger; but in other men and women it was twenty or a hundred times +greater. But, great or small, it played an important part in every +individual. It appeared as if the whirls of white light, which were +the individuals, and plainly showed themselves beneath the enveloping +bodies, were delighted with existence and wished only to enjoy it, +but the green corpuscles were in a condition of eternal discontent, +yet, blind and not knowing which way to turn for liberation, kept +changing form, as though breaking a new path, by way of experiment. +Whenever the old grotesque became metamorphosed into the new +grotesque, it was in every case the direct work of the green atoms, +trying to escape toward Muspel, but encountering immediate +opposition. These subdivided sparks of living, fiery spirit were +hopelessly imprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft pleasure. They were +being effeminated and corrupted--that is to say, absorbed in the +foul, sickly enveloping forms. + +Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that +spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his +nails, and understood why Krag was waiting for him below. + +He mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against +him was as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and +irregularity, so that he was not for an instant suffered to relax his +efforts. Nevertheless, not a breath stirred. + +Looking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The +sphere was still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which +he was standing he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any +distinguishable shape, but somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting +sweetness. Nightspore knew that it was Crystalman. A flood of +fierce light--but it was not light, but passion--was streaming all +the time from Muspel to the Shadow, and through it. When, however, +it emerged on the other side, which was the sphere, the light was +altered in character. It became split, as by a prism, into the two +forms of life which he had previously seen--the green corpuscles and +the whirls. What had been fiery spirit but a moment ago was now a +disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling individuals, each whirl of +pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a fragmentary spark of +living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back rays of +Starkness, and it flashed across him with the certainty of truth that +the green sparks were the back rays, and the whirls the forward rays, +of Muspel. The former were trying desperately to return to their +place of origin, but were overpowered by the brute force of the +latter, which wished only to remain where they were. The individual +whirls were jostling and fighting with, and even devouring, each +other. This created pain, but, whatever pain they felt, it was +always pleasure that they sought. Sometimes the green sparks were +strong enough for a moment to move a little way in the direction of +Muspel; the whirls would then accept the movement, not only without +demur, but with pride and pleasure, as if it were their own handiwork-- +but they never saw beyond the Shadow, they thought that they were +travelling toward it. The instant the direct movement wearied them, +as contrary to their whirling nature, they fell again to killing, +dancing, and loving. + +Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to +be the last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for +he guessed that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become +manifest. Every step upward was like a bloody life-and-death +struggle. The stairs nailed him to the ground; the air pressure +caused blood to gush from his nose and ears; his head clanged like an +iron bell. When he had fought his way up a dozen steps, he found +himself suddenly at the top; the staircase terminated in a small, +bare chamber of cold stone, possessing a single window. On the other +side of the apartment another short flight of stairs mounted through +a trap, apparently to the roof of the building. Before ascending +these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the window and stared out. + +The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and +filled the whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a +bright shadow. It had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way +suggested the delicate tints of early morning. It was so nebulous +that the sphere could be clearly distinguished through it; in +extension, however, it was thick. The sweet smell emanating from it +was strong, loathsome, and terrible; it seemed to spring from a sort +of loose, mocking slime inexpressibly vulgar and ignorant. + +The spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. +It was not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or +the Many, but something else far beyond either. It approached +Crystalman, and entered his body--if that bright mist could be +called a body. It passed right through him, and the passage caused +him the most exquisite pleasure. The Muspel-stream was Crystalman's +food. The stream emerged from the other side on to the sphere, in a +double condition. Part of it reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but +shivered into a million fragments. These were the green corpuscles. +In passing through Crystalman they had escaped absorption by reason +of their extreme minuteness. The other part of the stream had not +escaped. Its fire had been abstracted, its cement was withdrawn, +and, after being fouled and softened by the horrible sweetness of the +host, it broke into individuals, which were the whirls of living +will. + +Nightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of +will was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel +joy. + +Presently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he +remembered vaguely that now only that remained. + +Halfway up, he fainted--but when he recovered consciousness he +persisted as though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head +was above the trap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical +sensation as a man stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and +stood expectantly on the stone-floored roof, looking round for his +first glimpse of Muspel. + +There was nothing. + +He was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen +feet each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the +stone parapet, with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed +him. + +Suddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct +impression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was +grinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was +wholly surrounded by Crystalman's world, and that Muspel consisted of +himself and the stone tower on which he was sitting.. + +Fire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque, +vulgar, ridiculous, sweetened individuals--once Spirit--were +calling out from their degradation and agony for salvation from +Muspel.... To answer that cry there was only himself... and Krag +waiting below... and Surtur--But where was Surtur? + +The truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. +Muspel was no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure +indifference the existence side by side with it of another false +world, which had no right to be. Muspel was fighting for its life-- +against all that is most shameful and frightful--against sin +masquerading as eternal beauty, against baseness masquerading as +Nature, against the Devil masquerading as God.... + +Now he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no +Valhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night; +but a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death--namely, +spiritual death--inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By +what means could he hold back from this horrible war! + +During those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self--the +corruption of his life on Earth--were scorched out of Nightspore's +soul, perhaps not for the first time. + +After sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, +a strange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in +awful mystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery +that he could not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was +the voice of Crystalman. + +Krag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a stern glance +at Nightspore. + +"Have you seen everything?" + +"The struggle is hopeless," muttered Nightspore. + +"Did I not say I am the stronger?" + +"You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier." + +"I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman's Empire is but a +shadow on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the +bloodiest blows.... What do you mean to do?" + +Nightspore looked at him strangely. "Are you not Surtur, Krag?" + +"Yes." + +"Yes," said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. "But what +is your name on Earth?" + +"It is pain." + +"That, too, I must have known." + +He was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the +raft. Krag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Voyage to Arcturus, by Lindsay + diff --git a/old/old/vrctr10.zip b/old/old/vrctr10.zip new file mode 100644 index 0000000..051c486 Binary files /dev/null and b/old/old/vrctr10.zip differ -- cgit v1.2.3