"'A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS.\n\nBy David Lindsay\n\n\nContents:\n\n 1 The Seance\n 2 In the Street\n 3 Starkness\n 4 The Voice\n 5 The Night of Departure\n 6 Joiwind\n 7 Panawe\n 8 The Lusion Plain\n 9 Oceaxe\n 10 Tydomin\n 11 On Disscourn\n 12 Spadevil\n 13 The Wombflash Forest\n 14 Polecrab\n 15 Swaylone\'s Island\n 16 Leehallfae\n 17 Corpang\n 18 Haunte\n 19 Sullenbode\n 20 Barey\n 21 Muspel\n\n\n\n\nChapter 1. THE SEANCE\n\nOn a march evening, at eight o\'clock, Backhouse, the medium--a\nfast-rising star in the psychic world--was ushered into the study\nat Prolands, the Hampstead residence of Montague Faull. The room was\nilluminated only by the light of a blazing fire. The host, eying him\nwith indolent curiosity, got up, and the usual conventional greetings\nwere exchanged. Having indicated an easy chair before the fire to his\nguest, the South American merchant sank back again into his own. The\nelectric light was switched on. Faull\'s prominent, clear-cut features,\nmetallic-looking skin, and general air of bored impassiveness, did not\nseem greatly to impress the medium, who was accustomed to regard men\nfrom a special angle. Backhouse, on the contrary, was a novelty to the\nmerchant. As he tranquilly studied him through half closed lids and the\nsmoke of a cigar, he wondered how this little, thickset person with the\npointed beard contrived to remain so fresh and sane in appearance, in\nview of the morbid nature of his occupation.\n\n\"Do you smoke?\" drawled Faull, by way of starting the Conversation. \"No?\nThen will you take a drink?\"\n\n\"Not at present, I thank you.\"\n\nA pause.\n\n\"Everything is satisfactory? The materialisation will take place?\"\n\n\"I see no reason to doubt it.\"\n\n\"That\'s good, for I would not like my guests to be disappointed. I have\nyour check written out in my pocket.\"\n\n\"Afterward will do quite well.\"\n\n\"Nine o\'clock was the time specified, I believe?\"\n\n\"I fancy so.\"\n\nThe conversation continued to flag. Faull sprawled in his chair, and\nremained apathetic.\n\n\"Would you care to hear what arrangements I have made?\"\n\n\"I am unaware that any are necessary, beyond chairs for your guests.\"\n\n\"I mean the decoration of the seance room, the music, and so forth.\"\n\nBackhouse stared at his host. \"But this is not a theatrical\nperformance.\"\n\n\"That\'s correct. Perhaps I ought to explain.... There will be ladies\npresent, and ladies, you know, are aesthetically inclined.\"\n\n\"In that case I have no objection. I only hope they will enjoy the\nperformance to the end.\"\n\nHe spoke rather dryly.\n\n\"Well, that\'s all right, then,\" said Faull. Flicking his cigar into the\nfire, he got up and helped himself to whisky.\n\n\"Will you come and see the room?\"\n\n\"Thank you, no. I prefer to have nothing to do with it till the time\narrives.\"\n\n\"Then let\'s go to see my sister, Mrs. Jameson, who is in the drawing\nroom. She sometimes does me the kindness to act as my hostess, as I am\nunmarried.\"\n\n\"I will be delighted,\" said Backhouse coldly.\n\nThey found the lady alone, sitting by the open pianoforte in a pensive\nattitude. She had been playing Scriabin and was overcome. The medium\ntook in her small, tight, patrician features and porcelain-like hands,\nand wondered how Faull came by such a sister. She received him bravely,\nwith just a shade of quiet emotion. He was used to such receptions at\nthe hands of the sex, and knew well how to respond to them.\n\n\"What amazes me,\" she half whispered, after ten minutes of graceful,\nhollow conversation, \"is, if you must know it, not so much the\nmanifestation itself--though that will surely be wonderful--as\nyour assurance that it will take place. Tell me the grounds of your\nconfidence.\"\n\n\"I dream with open eyes,\" he answered, looking around at the door, \"and\nothers see my dreams. That is all.\"\n\n\"But that\'s beautiful,\" responded Mrs. Jameson. She smiled rather\nabsently, for the first guest had just entered.\n\nIt was Kent-Smith, the ex-magistrate, celebrated for his shrewd judicial\nhumour, which, however, he had the good sense not to attempt to carry\ninto private life. Although well on the wrong side of seventy, his eyes\nwere still disconcertingly bright. With the selective skill of an old\nman, he immediately settled himself in the most comfortable of many\ncomfortable chairs.\n\n\"So we are to see wonders tonight?\"\n\n\"Fresh material for your autobiography,\" remarked Faull.\n\n\"Ah, you should not have mentioned my unfortunate book. An old public\nservant is merely amusing himself in his retirement, Mr. Backhouse. You\nhave no cause for alarm--I have studied in the school of discretion.\"\n\n\"I am not alarmed. There can be no possible objection to your publishing\nwhatever you please.\"\n\n\"You are most kind,\" said the old man, with a cunning smile.\n\n\"Trent is not coming tonight,\" remarked Mrs. Jameson, throwing a curious\nlittle glance at her brother.\n\n\"I never thought he would. It\'s not in his line.\"\n\n\"Mrs. Trent, you must understand,\" she went on, addressing the\nex-magistrate, \"has placed us all under a debt of gratitude. She has\ndecorated the old lounge hall upstairs most beautifully, and has secured\nthe services of the sweetest little orchestra.\"\n\n\"But this is Roman magnificence.\"\n\n\"Backhouse thinks the spirits should be treated with more deference,\"\nlaughed Faull.\n\n\"Surely, Mr. Backhouse--a poetic environment...\"\n\n\"Pardon me. I am a simple man, and always prefer to reduce things to\nelemental simplicity. I raise no opposition, but I express my opinion.\nNature is one thing, and art is another.\"\n\n\"And I am not sure that I don\'t agree with you,\" said the ex-magistrate.\n\"An occasion like this ought to be simple, to guard against the\npossibility of deception--if you will forgive my bluntness, Mr.\nBackhouse.\"\n\n\"We shall sit in full light,\" replied Backhouse, \"and every opportunity\nwill be given to all to inspect the room. I shall also ask you to submit\nme to a personal examination.\"\n\nA rather embarrassed silence followed. It was broken by the arrival of\ntwo more guests, who entered together. These were Prior, the prosperous\nCity coffee importer, and Lang, the stockjobber, well known in his own\ncircle as an amateur prestidigitator. Backhouse was slightly acquainted\nwith the latter. Prior, perfuming the room with the faint odour of wine\nand tobacco smoke, tried to introduce an atmosphere of joviality into\nthe proceedings. Finding that no one seconded his efforts, however, he\nshortly subsided and fell to examining the water colours on the walls.\nLang, tall, thin, and growing bald, said little, but stared at Backhouse\na good deal.\n\nCoffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes were now brought in. Everyone partook,\nexcept Lang and the medium. At the same moment, Professor Halbert was\nannounced. He was the eminent psychologist, the author and lecturer\non crime, insanity, genius, and so forth, considered in their mental\naspects. His presence at such a gathering somewhat mystified the other\nguests, but all felt as if the object of their meeting had immediately\nacquired additional solemnity. He was small, meagre-looking, and mild\nin manner, but was probably the most stubborn-brained of all that mixed\ncompany. Completely ignoring the medium, he at once sat down beside\nKent-Smith, with whom he began to exchange remarks.\n\nAt a few minutes past the appointed hour Mrs. Trent entered,\nunannounced. She was a woman of about twenty-eight. She had a white,\ndemure, saintlike face, smooth black hair, and lips so crimson and full\nthat they seemed to be bursting with blood. Her tall, graceful body was\nmost expensively attired. Kisses were exchanged between her and Mrs.\nJameson. She bowed to the rest of the assembly, and stole a half glance\nand a smile at Faull. The latter gave her a queer look, and Backhouse,\nwho lost nothing, saw the concealed barbarian in the complacent gleam\nof his eye. She refused the refreshment that was offered her, and Faull\nproposed that, as everyone had now arrived, they should adjourn to the\nlounge hall.\n\nMrs. Trent held up a slender palm. \"Did you, or did you not, give me\ncarte blanche, Montague?\"\n\n\"Of course I did,\" said Faull, laughing. \"But what\'s the matter?\"\n\n\"Perhaps I have been rather presumptuous. I don\'t know. I have invited\na couple of friends to join us. No, no one knows them.... The two most\nextraordinary individuals you ever saw. And mediums, I am sure.\"\n\n\"It sounds very mysterious. Who are these conspirators?\"\n\n\"At least tell us their names, you provoking girl,\" put in Mrs. Jameson.\n\n\"One rejoices in the name of Maskull, and the other in that of\nNightspore. That\'s nearly all that I know about them, so don\'t overwhelm\nme with, any more questions.\"\n\n\"But where did you pick them up? You must have picked them up\nsomewhere.\"\n\n\"But this is a cross-examination. Have I sinned again convention? I\nswear I will tell you not another word about them. They will be here\ndirectly, and then I will deliver them to your tender mercy.\"\n\n\"I don\'t know them,\" said Faull, \"and nobody else seems to, but, of\ncourse, we will all be very pleased to have them.... Shall we wait, or\nwhat?\"\n\n\"I said nine, and it\'s past that now. It\'s quite possible they may not\nturn up after all.... Anyway, don\'t wait.\"\n\n\"I would prefer to start at once,\" said Backhouse.\n\nThe lounge, a lofty room, forty feet long by twenty wide, had been\ndivided for the occasion into two equal parts by a heavy brocade curtain\ndrawn across the middle. The far end was thus concealed. The nearer half\nhad been converted into an auditorium by a crescent of armchairs. There\nwas no other furniture. A large fire was burning halfway along the wall,\nbetween the chairbacks and the door. The room was brilliantly lighted by\nelectric bracket lamps. A sumptuous carpet covered the floor.\n\nHaving settled his guests in their seats, Faull stepped up to the\ncurtain and flung it aside. A replica, or nearly so, of the Drury Lane\npresentation of the temple scene in The Magic Flute was then exposed to\nview: the gloomy, massive architecture of the interior, the glowing sky\nabove it in the background, and, silhouetted against the latter, the\ngigantic seated statue of the Pharaoh. A fantastically carved wooden\ncouch lay before the pedestal of the statue. Near the curtain, obliquely\nplaced to the auditorium, was a plain oak armchair, for the use of the\nmedium.\n\nMany of those present felt privately that the setting was quite\ninappropriate to the occasion and savoured rather unpleasantly\nof ostentation. Backhouse in particular seemed put out. The usual\ncompliments, however, were showered on Mrs. Trent as the deviser of\nso remarkable a theatre. Faull invited his friends to step forward and\nexamine the apartment as minutely as they might desire. Prior and\nLang were the only ones to accept. The former wandered about among the\npasteboard scenery, whistling to himself and occasionally tapping a part\nof it with his knuckles. Lang, who was in his element, ignored the rest\nof his party and commenced a patient, systematic search, on his own\naccount, for secret apparatus. Faull and Mrs. Trent stood in a corner\nof the temple, talking together in low tones; while Mrs. Jameson,\npretending to hold Backhouse in conversation, watched them as only a\ndeeply interested woman knows how to watch.\n\nLang, to his own disgust, having failed to find anything of a suspicious\nnature, the medium now requested that his own clothing should be\nsearched.\n\n\"All these precautions are quite needless and beside the matter in\nhand, as you will immediately see for yourselves. My reputation demands,\nhowever, that other people who are not present would not be able to say\nafterward that trickery has been resorted to.\"\n\nTo Lang again fell the ungrateful task of investigating pockets and\nsleeves. Within a few minutes he expressed himself satisfied that\nnothing mechanical was in Backhouse\'s possession. The guests reseated\nthemselves. Faull ordered two more chairs to be brought for Mrs. Trent\'s\nfriends, who, however, had not yet arrived. He then pressed an electric\nbell, and took his own seat.\n\nThe signal was for the hidden orchestra to begin playing. A murmur of\nsurprise passed through the audience as, without previous warning, the\nbeautiful and solemn strains of Mozart\'s \"temple\" music pulsated through\nthe air. The expectation of everyone was raised, while, beneath her\npallor and composure, it could be seen that Mrs. Trent was deeply moved.\nIt was evident that aesthetically she was by far the most important\nperson present. Faull watched her, with his face sunk on his chest,\nsprawling as usual.\n\nBackhouse stood up, with one hand on the back of his chair, and began\nspeaking. The music instantly sank to pianissimo, and remained so for as\nlong as he was on his legs.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness a materialisation. That\nmeans you will see something appear in space that was not previously\nthere. At first it will appear as a vaporous form, but finally it will\nbe a solid body, which anyone present may feel and handle--and, for\nexample, shake hands with. For this body will be in the human shape.\nIt will be a real man or woman--which, I can\'t say--but a man or\nwoman without known antecedents. If, however, you demand from me an\nexplanation of the origin of this materialised form--where it comes\nfrom, whence the atoms and molecules composing its tissues are\nderived--I am unable to satisfy you. I am about to produce the\nphenomenon; if anyone can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very\ngrateful.... That is all I have to say.\"\n\nHe resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused\nfor a moment before beginning his task.\n\nIt was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door\nand announced in a subdued but distinct voice: \"Mr. Maskull, Mr.\nNightspore.\"\n\nEveryone turned round. Faull rose to welcome the late arrivals.\nBackhouse also stood up, and stared hard at them.\n\nThe two strangers remained standing by the door, which was closed\nquietly behind them. They seemed to be waiting for the mild sensation\ncaused by their appearance to subside before advancing into the room.\nMaskull was a kind of giant, but of broader and more robust physique\nthan most giants. He wore a full beard. His features were thick and\nheavy, coarsely modelled, like those of a wooden carving; but his eyes,\nsmall and black, sparkled with the fires of intelligence and audacity.\nHis hair was short, black, and bristling. Nightspore was of middle\nheight, but so tough-looking that he appeared to be trained out of all\nhuman frailties and susceptibilities. His hairless face seemed consumed\nby an intense spiritual hunger, and his eyes were wild and distant. Both\nmen were dressed in tweeds.\n\nBefore any words were spoken, a loud and terrible crash of falling\nmasonry caused the assembled party to start up from their chairs in\nconsternation. It sounded as if the entire upper part of the building\nhad collapsed. Faull sprang to the door, and called to the servant to\nsay what was happening. The man had to be questioned twice before he\ngathered what was required of him. He said he had heard nothing. In\nobedience to his master\'s order, he went upstairs. Nothing, however, was\namiss there, neither had the maids heard anything.\n\nIn the meantime Backhouse, who almost alone of those assembled had\npreserved his sangfroid, went straight up to Nightspore, who stood\ngnawing his nails.\n\n\"Perhaps you can explain it, sir?\"\n\n\"It was supernatural,\" said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled voice,\nturning away from his questioner.\n\n\"I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard it so\nloud.\"\n\nHe then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled\ndown, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured\ninterest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness.\nMaskull and Nightspore took the places allotted to them. Mrs. Trent\nkept stealing uneasy glances at them. Throughout the entire incident,\nMozart\'s hymn continued to be played. The orchestra also had heard\nnothing.\n\nBackhouse now entered on his task. It was one that began to be familiar\nto him, and he had no anxiety about the result. It was not possible\nto effect the materialisation by mere concentration of will, or the\nexercise of any faculty; otherwise many people could have done what he\nhad engaged himself to do. His nature was phenomenal--the dividing\nwall between himself and the spiritual world was broken in many places.\nThrough the gaps in his mind the inhabitants of the invisible, when he\nsummoned them, passed for a moment timidly and awfully into the solid,\ncoloured universe.... He could not say how it was brought about.... The\nexperience was a rough one for the body, and many such struggles would\nlead to insanity and early death. That is why Backhouse was stern\nand abrupt in his manner. The coarse, clumsy suspicion of some of the\nwitnesses, the frivolous aestheticism of others, were equally obnoxious\nto his grim, bursting heart; but he was obliged to live, and, to pay his\nway, must put up with these impertinences.\n\nHe sat down facing the wooden couch. His eyes remained open but seemed\nto look inward. His cheeks paled, and he became noticeably thinner. The\nspectators almost forgot to breathe. The more sensitive among them began\nto feel, or imagine, strange presences all around them. Maskull\'s\neyes glittered with anticipation, and his brows went up and down, but\nNightspore appeared bored.\n\nAfter a long ten minutes the pedestal of the statue was seen to become\nslightly blurred, as though an intervening mist were rising from the\nground. This slowly developed into a visible cloud, coiling hither and\nthither, and constantly changing shape. The professor half rose, and\nheld his glasses with one hand further forward on the bridge of his\nnose.\n\nBy slow stages the cloud acquired the dimensions and approximate outline\nof an adult human body, although all was still vague and blurred. It\nhovered lightly in the air, a foot or so above the couch. Backhouse\nlooked haggard and ghastly. Mrs. Jameson quietly fainted in her chair,\nbut she was unnoticed, and presently revived. The apparition now settled\ndown upon the couch, and at the moment of doing so seemed suddenly to\ngrow dark, solid, and manlike. Many of the guests were as pale as the\nmedium himself, but Faull preserved his stoical apathy, and glanced once\nor twice at Mrs. Trent. She was staring straight at the couch, and was\ntwisting a little lace handkerchief through the different fingers of her\nhand. The music went on playing.\n\nThe figure was by this time unmistakably that of a man lying down. The\nface focused itself into distinctness. The body was draped in a sort of\nshroud, but the features were those of a young man. One smooth hand\nfell over, nearly touching the floor, white and motionless. The weaker\nspirits of the company stared at the vision in sick horror; the rest\nwere grave and perplexed. The seeming man was dead, but somehow it did\nnot appear like a death succeeding life, but like a death preliminary to\nlife. All felt that he might sit up at any minute.\n\n\"Stop that music!\" muttered Backhouse, tottering from his chair and\nfacing the party. Faull touched the bell. A few more bars sounded, and\nthen total silence ensued.\n\n\"Anyone who wants to may approach the couch,\" said Backhouse with\ndifficulty.\n\nLang at once advanced, and stared awestruck at the supernatural youth.\n\n\"You are at liberty to touch,\" said the medium.\n\nBut Lang did not venture to, nor did any of the others, who one by one\nstole up to the couch--until it came to Faull\'s turn. He looked straight\nat Mrs. Trent, who seemed frightened and disgusted at the spectacle\nbefore her, and then not only touched the apparition but suddenly\ngrasped the drooping hand in his own and gave it a powerful squeeze.\nMrs. Trent gave a low scream. The ghostly visitor opened his eyes,\nlooked at Faull strangely, and sat up on the couch. A cryptic smile\nstarted playing over his mouth. Faull looked at his hand; a feeling of\nintense pleasure passed through his body.\n\nMaskull caught Mrs. Jameson in his arms; she was attacked by another\nspell of faintness. Mrs. Trent ran forward, and led her out of the room.\nNeither of them returned.\n\nThe phantom body now stood upright, looking about him, still with his\npeculiar smile. Prior suddenly felt sick, and went out. The other\nmen more or less hung together, for the sake of human society, but\nNightspore paced up and down, like a man weary and impatient, while\nMaskull attempted to interrogate the youth. The apparition watched him\nwith a baffling expression, but did not answer. Backhouse was sitting\napart, his face buried in his hands.\n\nIt was at this moment that the door was burst open violently, and a\nstranger, unannounced, half leaped, half strode a few yards into the\nroom, and then stopped. None of Faull\'s friends had ever seen him\nbefore. He was a thick, shortish man, with surprising muscular\ndevelopment and a head far too large in proportion to his body. His\nbeardless yellow face indicated, as a first impression, a mixture of\nsagacity, brutality, and humour.\n\n\"Aha-i, gentlemen!\" he called out loudly. His voice was piercing, and\noddly disagreeable to the ear. \"So we have a little visitor here.\"\n\nNightspore turned his back, but everyone else stared at the intruder in\nastonishment. He took another few steps forward, which brought him to\nthe edge of the theatre.\n\n\"May I ask, sir, how I come to have the honour of being your host?\"\nasked Faull sullenly. He thought that the evening was not proceeding as\nsmoothly as he had anticipated.\n\nThe newcomer looked at him for a second, and then broke into a great,\nroaring guffaw. He thumped Faull on the back playfully--but the play was\nrather rough, for the victim was sent staggering against the wall before\nhe could recover his balance.\n\n\"Good evening, my host!\"\n\n\"And good evening to you too, my lad!\" he went on, addressing the\nsupernatural youth, who was now beginning to wander about the room, in\napparent unconsciousness of his surroundings. \"I have seen someone very\nlike you before, I think.\"\n\nThere was no response.\n\nThe intruder thrust his head almost up to the phantom\'s face. \"You have\nno right here, as you know.\"\n\nThe shape looked back at him with a smile full of significance, which,\nhowever, no one could understand.\n\n\"Be careful what you are doing,\" said Backhouse quickly.\n\n\"What\'s the matter, spirit usher?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know who you are, but if you use physical violence toward that,\nas you seem inclined to do, the consequences may prove very unpleasant.\"\n\n\"And without pleasure our evening would be spoiled, wouldn\'t it, my\nlittle mercenary friend?\"\n\nHumour vanished from his face, like sunlight from a landscape, leaving\nit hard and rocky. Before anyone realised what he was doing, he\nencircled the soft, white neck of the materialised shape with his hairy\nhands and, with a double turn, twisted it completely round. A faint,\nunearthly shriek sounded, and the body fell in a heap to the floor. Its\nface was uppermost. The guests were unutterably shocked to observe that\nits expression had changed from the mysterious but fascinating smile\nto a vulgar, sordid, bestial grin, which cast a cold shadow of moral\nnastiness into every heart. The transformation was accompanied by a\nsickening stench of the graveyard.\n\nThe features faded rapidly away, the body lost its consistence, passing\nfrom the solid to the shadowy condition, and, before two minutes had\nelapsed, the spirit-form had entirely disappeared.\n\nThe short stranger turned and confronted the party, with a long, loud\nlaugh, like nothing in nature.\n\nThe professor talked excitedly to Kent-Smith in low tones. Faull\nbeckoned Backhouse behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check\nwithout a word. The medium put it in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and\nwalked out of the room. Lang followed him, in order to get a drink.\n\nThe stranger poked his face up into Maskull\'s.\n\n\"Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn\'t you like to see the\nland where this sort of fruit grows wild?\"\n\n\"What sort of fruit?\"\n\n\"That specimen goblin.\"\n\nMaskull waved him away with his huge hand. \"Who are you, and how did you\ncome here?\"\n\n\"Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me.\" Nightspore had moved\na chair to the fire, and was watching the embers with a set, fanatical\nexpression.\n\n\"Let Krag come to me, if he wants me,\" he said, in his strange voice.\n\n\"You see, he does know me,\" uttered Krag, with a humorous look. Walking\nover to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair.\n\n\"Still the same old gnawing hunger?\"\n\n\"What is doing these days?\" demanded Nightspore disdainfully, without\naltering his attitude.\n\n\"Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him.\"\n\n\"How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you speaking?\"\nasked Maskull, looking from one to the other in perplexity.\n\n\"Krag has something for us. Let us go outside,\" replied Nightspore. He\ngot up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the direction\nof his eye, observed that the few remaining men were watching their\nlittle group attentively.\n\n\n\nChapter 2. IN THE STREET\n\nThe three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was\nslightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The\nmultitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll\nof hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull felt oddly excited; he had a sense that\nsomething extraordinary was about to happen \"What brought you to this\nhouse tonight, Krag, and what made you do what you did? How are we\nunderstand that apparition?\"\n\n\"That must have been Crystalman\'s expression on face,\" muttered\nNightspore.\n\n\"We have discussed that, haven\'t we, Maskull? Maskull is anxious to\nbehold that rare fruit in its native wilds.\"\n\nMaskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings\ntoward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man\'s personality, yet\nside by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring\nup in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag.\n\n\"Why do you insist on this simile?\" he asked.\n\n\"Because it is apropos. Nightspore\'s quite right. That was Crystalman\'s\nface, and we are going to Crystalman\'s country.\"\n\n\"And where is this mysterious country?\"\n\n\"Tormance.\"\n\n\"That\'s a quaint name. But where is it?\"\n\nKrag grinned, showing his yellow teeth in the light of the street lamp.\n\n\"It is the residential suburb of Arcturus.\"\n\n\"What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of that\nname?\" he went on, to Krag.\n\n\"Which you have in front of you at this very minute,\" said Krag, pointing\na thick finger toward the brightest star in the south-eastern sky.\n\"There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one inhabited planet.\"\n\nMaskull looked at the heavy, gleaning star, and again at Krag. Then he\npulled out a pipe, and began to fill it.\n\n\"You must have cultivated a new form of humour, Krag.\"\n\n\"I am glad if I can amuse you, Maskull, if only for a few days.\"\n\n\"I meant to ask you--how do you know my name?\"\n\n\"It would be odd if I didn\'t, seeing that I only came here on your\naccount. As a matter of fact, Nightspore and I are old friends.\"\n\nMaskull paused with his suspended match. \"You came here on my account?\"\n\n\"Surely. On your account and Nightspore\'s. We three are to be fellow\ntravellers.\"\n\nMaskull now lit his pipe and puffed away coolly for a few moments.\n\n\"I\'m sorry, Krag, but I must assume you are mad.\"\n\nKrag threw his head back, and gave a scraping laugh. \"Am I mad,\nNightspore?\"\n\n\"Has Surtur gone to Tormance?\" ejaculated Nightspore in a strangled\nvoice, fixing his eyes on Krag\'s face.\n\n\"Yes, and he requires that we follow him at once.\"\n\nMaskull\'s heart began to beat strangely. It all sounded to him like a\ndream conversation.\n\n\"And since how long, Krag, have I been required to do things by a total\nstranger.... Besides, who is this individual?\"\n\n\"Krag\'s chief,\" said Nightspore, turning his head away.\n\n\"The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up.\"\n\n\"You are looking for mysteries,\" said Krag, \"so naturally you are\nfinding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. The affair is\nplain and serious.\"\n\nMaskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly.\n\n\"Where have you come from now?\" demanded Nightspore suddenly.\n\n\"From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the famous\nStarkness Observatory, Maskull?\"\n\n\"No. Where is it?\"\n\n\"On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made there\nfrom time to time.\"\n\n\"As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur turns\nout to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?\"\n\nKrag grinned again. \"How long will it take you to wind up your affairs?\nWhen can you be ready to start?\"\n\n\"You are too considerate,\" said Maskull, laughing outright. \"I was\nbeginning to fear that I would be hauled away at once.... However, I\nhave neither wife, land, nor profession, so there\'s nothing to wait\nfor.... What is the itinerary?\"\n\n\"You are a fortunate man. A bold, daring heart, and no encumbrances.\"\nKrag\'s features became suddenly grave and rigid. \"Don\'t be a fool, and\nrefuse a gift of luck. A gift declined is not offered a second time.\"\n\n\"Krag,\" replied Maskull simply, returning his pipe to his pocket. \"I ask\nyou to put yourself in my place. Even if were a man sick for adventures,\nhow could I listen seriously to such an insane proposition as this? What\ndo I know about you, or your past record? You may be a practical joker,\nor you may have come out of a madhouse--I know nothing about it. If you\nclaim to be an exceptional man, and want my cooperation, you must offer\nme exceptional proofs.\"\n\n\"And what proofs would you consider adequate, Maskull?\"\n\nAs he spoke he gripped Maskull\'s arm. A sharp, chilling pain immediately\npassed through the latter\'s body and at the same moment his brain caught\nfire. A light burst in upon him like the rising of the sun. He asked\nhimself for the first time if this fantastic conversation could by any\nchance refer to real things.\n\n\"Listen, Krag,\" he said slowly, while peculiar images and conceptions\nstarted to travel in rich disorder through his mind. \"You talk about a\ncertain journey. Well, if that journey were a possible one, and I were\ngiven the chance of making it, I would be willing never to come back.\nFor twenty-four hours on that Arcturian planet, I would give my life.\nThat is my attitude toward that journey.... Now prove to me that you\'re\nnot talking nonsense. Produce your credentials.\"\n\nKrag stared at him all the time he was speaking, his face gradually\nresuming its jesting expression.\n\n\"Oh, you will get your twenty-four hours, and perhaps longer, but not\nmuch longer. You\'re an audacious fellow, Maskull, but this trip will\nprove a little strenuous, even for you.... And so, like the unbelievers\nof old, you want a sign from heaven?\"\n\nMaskull frowned. \"But the whole thing is ridiculous. Our brains are\noverexcited by what took place in there. Let us go home, and sleep it\noff.\"\n\nKrag detained him with one hand, while groping in his breast pocket with\nthe other. He presently fished out what resembled a small folding lens.\nThe diameter of the glass did not exceed two inches.\n\n\"First take a peep at Arcturus through this, Maskull. It may serve as\na provisional sign. It\'s the best I can do, unfortunately. I am not a\ntravelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It\'s somewhat\nheavy.\"\n\nMaskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and\nthen looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least\ntwenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece.\n\n\"What stuff can this be, Krag?\"\n\n\"Look through it, my good friend. That\'s what I gave it to you for.\"\n\nMaskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming\nArcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the\nmuscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this. The star, which\nto the naked eye appeared as a single yellow point of light, now became\nclearly split into two bright but minute suns, the larger of which was\nstill yellow, while its smaller companion was a beautiful blue. But\nthis was not all. Apparently circulating around the yellow sun was a\ncomparatively small and hardly distinguishable satellite, which seemed\nto shine, not by its own, but by reflected light.... Maskull lowered and\nraised his arm repeatedly. The same spectacle revealed itself again and\nagain, but he was able to see nothing else. Then he passed back the lens\nto Krag, without a word, and stood chewing his underlip.\n\n\"You take a glimpse too,\" scraped Krag, proffering the glass to\nNightspore.\n\nNightspore turned his back and began to pace up an down. Krag laughed\nsardonically, and returned the lens to his pocket. \"Well, Maskull, are\nyou satisfied?\"\n\n\"Arcturus, then, is a double sun. And is that third point the planet\nTormance?\"\n\n\"Our future home, Maskull.\"\n\nMaskull continued to ponder. \"You inquire if I am satisfied. I don\'t\nknow, Krag. It\'s miraculous, and that\'s all I can say about it.... But\nI\'m satisfied of one thing. There must be very wonderful astronomers at\nStarkness and if you invite me to your observatory I will surely come.\"\n\n\"I do invite you. We set off from there.\"\n\n\"And you, Nightspore?\" demanded Maskull.\n\n\"The journey has to be made,\" answered his friend in indistinct tones,\n\"though I don\'t see what will come of it.\"\n\nKrag shot a penetrating glance at him. \"More remarkable adventures than\nthis would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore.\"\n\n\"Yet he is coming.\"\n\n\"But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company.\"\n\nMaskull again sought the heavy, sombre star, gleaming in solitary might,\nin the south-eastern heavens, and, as he gazed, his heart swelled with\ngrand and painful longings, for which, however, he was unable to account\nto his own intellect. He felt that his destiny was in some way bound up\nwith this gigantic, far-distant sun. But still he did not dare to admit\nto himself Krag\'s seriousness.\n\nHe heard his parting remarks in deep abstraction, and only after the\nlapse of several minutes, when, alone with Nightspore, did he realise\nthat they referred to such mundane matters as travelling routes and\ntimes of trains.\n\n\"Does Krag travel north with us, Nightspore? I didn\'t catch that.\"\n\n\"No. We go on first, and he joins us at Starkness on the evening of the\nday after tomorrow.\"\n\nMaskull remained thoughtful. \"What am I to think of that man?\"\n\n\"For your information,\" replied Nightspore wearily, \"I have never known\nhim to lie.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 3. STARKNESS\n\nA couple of days later, at two o\'clock in the afternoon, Maskull and\nNightspore arrived at Starkness Observatory, having covered the seven\nmiles from Haillar Station on foot. The road, very wild and lonely, ran\nfor the greater part of the way near the edge of rather lofty cliffs,\nwithin sight of the North Sea. The sun shone, but a brisk east wind was\nblowing and the air was salt and cold. The dark green waves were flecked\nwith white. Throughout the walk, they were accompanied by the plaintive,\nbeautiful crying of the gulls.\n\nThe observatory presented itself to their eyes as a self-contained\nlittle community, without neighbours, and perched on the extreme end\nof the land. There were three buildings: a small, stone-built dwelling\nhouse, a low workshop, and, about two hundred yards farther north, a\nsquare tower of granite masonry, seventy feet in height.\n\nThe house and the shop were separated by an open yard, littered with\nwaste. A single stone wall surrounded both, except on the side facing\nthe sea, where the house itself formed a continuation of the cliff. No\none appeared. The windows were all closed, and Maskull could have sworn\nthat the whole establishment was shut up and deserted.\n\nHe passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked\nvigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had\nobviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but\ncould hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the\ndoor was looked.\n\nThey walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there\nwas only the one door.\n\n\"This isn\'t promising,\" growled Maskull \"There\'s no one here..... Now\nyou try the shed, while I go over to that tower.\"\n\nNightspore, who had not spoken half a dozen words since leaving the\ntrain, complied in silence, and started off across the yard. Maskull\npassed out of the gate again. When he arrived at the foot of the tower,\nwhich stood some way back from the cliff, he found the door heavily\npadlocked. Gazing up, he saw six windows, one above the other at equal\ndistances, all on the east face--that is, overlooking the sea. Realising\nthat no satisfaction was to be gained here, he came away again, still\nmore irritated than before. When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore\nreported that the workshop was also locked.\n\n\"Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?\" demanded Maskull\nenergetically.\n\n\"The house is empty,\" replied Nightspore, biting his nails. \"Better\nbreak a window.\"\n\n\"I certainly don\'t mean to camp out till Krag condescends to come.\"\n\nHe picked up an old iron bolt from the yard and, retreating to a safe\ndistance, hurled it against a sash window on the ground floor. The lower\npane was completely shattered. Carefully avoiding the broken glass,\nMaskull thrust his hand through the aperture and pushed back the frame\nfastening. A minute later they had climbed through and were standing\ninside the house.\n\nThe room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and\nneglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken\nutensils and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap,\neverything was covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was\nso foul that Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room\nfor several months. Insects were crawling on the walls.\n\nThey went into the other rooms on the lower floor--a scullery, a barely\nfurnished dining room, and a storing place for lumber. The same dirt,\nmustiness, and neglect met their eyes. At least half a year must have\nelapsed since these rooms were last touched, or even entered.\n\n\"Does your faith in Krag still hold?\" asked Maskull. \"I confess mine is\nat vanishing point. If this affair isn\'t one big practical joke, it has\nevery promise of being one. Krag never lived here in his life.\"\n\n\"Come upstairs first,\" said Nightspore.\n\nThe upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms.\nAll the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The\nbeds had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been\nmade since. The tumbled, discoloured bed linen actually preserved the\nimpressions of the sleepers. There was no doubt that these impressions\nwere ancient, for all sorts of floating dirt had accumulated on the\nsheets and coverlets.\n\n\"Who could have slept here, do you think?\" interrogated Maskull. \"The\nobservatory staff?\"\n\n\"More likely travellers like ourselves. They left suddenly.\"\n\nMaskull flung the windows wide open in every room he came to, and held\nhis breath until he had done so. Two of the bedrooms faced the sea; the\nthird, the library, the upward-sloping moorland. This library was now\nthe only room left unvisited, and unless they discovered signs of recent\noccupation here Maskull made up his mind to regard the whole business as\na gigantic hoax.\n\nBut the library, like all the other rooms, was foul with stale air and\ndust-laden. Maskull, having flung the window up and down, fell heavily\ninto an armchair and looked disgustedly at his friend.\n\n\"Now what is your opinion of Krag?\"\n\nNightspore sat on the edge of the table which stood before the window.\n\"He may still have left a message for us.\"\n\n\"What message? Why? Do you mean in this room?--I see no message.\"\n\nNightspore\'s eyes wandered about the room, finally seeming to linger\nupon a glass-fronted wall cupboard, which contained a few old bottles on\none of the shelves and nothing else. Maskull glanced at him and at the\ncupboard. Then, without a word, he got up to examine the bottles.\n\nThere were four altogether, one of which was larger than the rest. The\nsmaller ones were about eight inches long. All were torpedo-shaped, but\nhad flattened bottoms, which enabled them to stand upright. Two of\nthe smaller ones were empty and unstoppered, the others contained a\ncolourless liquid, and possessed queer-looking, nozzle-like stoppers\nthat were connected by a thin metal rod with a catch halfway down the\nside of the bottle. They were labelled, but the labels were yellow\nwith age and the writing was nearly undecipherable. Maskull carried the\nfilled bottles with him to the table in front of the window, in order to\nget better light. Nightspore moved away to make room for him.\n\nHe now made out on the larger bottle the words \"Solar Back Rays\"; and\non the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could distinguish\nsomething like \"Arcturian Back Rays.\"\n\nHe looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. \"Have you been here\nbefore, Nightspore?\"\n\n\"I guessed Krag would leave a message.\"\n\n\"Well, I don\'t know--it may be a message, but it means nothing to us, or\nat all events to me. What are \'back rays\'?\"\n\n\"Light that goes back to its source,\" muttered Nightspore.\n\n\"And what kind of light would that be?\"\n\nNightspore seemed unwilling to answer, but, finding Maskull\'s eyes still\nfixed on him, he brought out: \"Unless light pulled, as well as pushed,\nhow would flowers contrive to twist their heads around after the sun?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know. But the point is, what are these bottles for?\"\n\nWhile he was still talking, with his hand on the smaller bottle, the\nother, which was lying on its side, accidentally rolled over in such a\nmanner that the metal caught against the table. He made a movement to\nstop it, his hand was actually descending, when--the bottle suddenly\ndisappeared before his eyes. It had not rolled off the table, but had\nreally vanished--it was nowhere at all.\n\nMaskull stared at the table. After a minute he raised his brows, and\nturned to Nightspore with a smile. \"The message grows more intricate.\"\n\nNightspore looked bored. \"The valve became unfastened. The contents have\nescaped through the open window toward the sun, carrying the bottle with\nthem. But the bottle will be burned up by the earth\'s atmosphere, and\nthe contents will dissipate, and will not reach the sun.\"\n\nMaskull listened attentively, and his smile faded. \"Does anything\nprevent us from experimenting with this other bottle?\"\n\n\"Replace it in the cupboard,\" said Nightspore. \"Arcturus is still below\nthe horizon, and you would succeed only in wrecking the house.\"\n\nMaskull remained standing before the window, pensively gazing out at the\nsunlit moors.\n\n\"Krag treats me like a child,\" he remarked presently. \"And perhaps I\nreally am a child.... My cynicism must seem most amusing to Krag. But\nwhy does he leave me to find out all this by myself--for I don\'t include\nyou, Nightspore.... But what time will Krag be here?\"\n\n\"Not before dark, I expect,\" his friend replied.\n\n\n\nChapter 4. THE VOICE\n\nIt was by this time past three o\'clock. Feeling hungry, for they had\neaten nothing since early morning, Maskull went downstairs to forage,\nbut without much hope of finding anything in the shape of food. In a\nsafe in the kitchen he discovered a bag of mouldy oatmeal, which was\nuntouchable, a quantity of quite good tea in an airtight caddy, and an\nunopened can of ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he\ncame across an uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once\nmade preparations for a scratch meal.\n\nA pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it,\nand he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of\nthe kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood\nmade a good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were\nprocured and washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the\nlibrary.\n\nNightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good\nappetite. There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly\nblack tea was mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this\nconcoction Maskull drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had\ndisappeared he was still imbibing.\n\nNightspore looked at him queerly. \"Do you intend to finish the bottle\nbefore Krag comes?\"\n\n\"Krag won\'t want any, and one must do something. I feel restless.\"\n\n\"Let us take a look at the country.\"\n\nThe cup, which was on its way to Maskull\'s lips, remained poised in the\nair. \"Have you anything in view, Nightspore?\"\n\n\"Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.\"\n\n\"What\'s that?\"\n\n\"A showplace,\" answered Nightspore, biting his lip.\n\nMaskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. \"Walking is better\nthan soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How far\nis it?\"\n\n\"Three or four miles each way.\"\n\n\"You probably mean something,\" said Maskull, \"for I\'m beginning to\nregard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I am growing\nnervous, and need incidents.\"\n\nThey left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately\nfound themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from\nHaillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower.\n\nMaskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest.\n\"What is that tower, Nightspore?\"\n\n\"We sail from the platform on the top.\"\n\n\"Tonight?\"--throwing him a quick look.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nMaskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. \"Then we are looking at the\ngateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it.\"\n\n\"You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,\" mumbled Nightspore.\n\nAfter a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved\nsharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it\nand took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the way along the cliff\nedge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The\ntwo men then had some rough walking up and down hillsides and across\ndeep gullies. The sun disappeared behind the hills, and twilight\nimperceptibly came on. They soon reached a spot where further progress\nappeared impossible. The buttress of a mountain descended at a steep\nangle to the very edge of the cliff, forming an impassable slope of\nslippery grass. Maskull halted, stroked his beard, and wondered what the\nnext step was to be.\n\n\"There\'s a little scrambling here,\" said Nightspore. \"We are both used\nto climbing, and there is not much in it.\"\n\nHe indicated a narrow ledge, winding along the face of the precipice a\nfew yards beneath where they were standing. It averaged from fifteen\nto thirty inches in width. Without waiting for Maskull\'s consent to the\nundertaking, he instantly swung himself down and started walking along\nthis ledge at a rapid pace. Maskull, seeing that there was no help for\nit, followed him. The shelf did not extend for above a quarter of a\nmile, but its passage was somewhat unnerving; there was a sheer drop\nto the sea, four hundred feet below. In a few places they had to sidle\nalong without placing one foot before another. The sound of the breakers\ncame up to them in a low, threatening roar.\n\nUpon rounding a corner, the ledge broadened out into a fair-sized\nplatform of rock and came to a sudden end. A narrow inlet of the sea\nseparated them from the continuation of the cliffs beyond.\n\n\"As we can\'t get any further,\" said Maskull, \"I presume this is your Gap\nof Sorgie?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered his friend, first dropping on his knees and then lying\nat full length, face downward. He drew his head and shoulders over the\nedge and began to stare straight down at the water.\n\n\"What is there interesting down there, Nightspore?\"\n\nReceiving no reply, however, he followed his friend\'s example, and the\nnext minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom\nhad deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was\nineffectually gazing, he heard what sounded like the beating of a\ndrum on the narrow strip of shore below. It was very faint, but quite\ndistinct. The beats were in four-four time, with the third beat slightly\naccented. He now continued to hear the noise all the time he was lying\nthere. The beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the\nsurf, but seemed somehow to belong to a different world....\n\nWhen they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. \"We came\nhere solely to hear that?\"\n\nNightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. \"It\'s called locally \'The\nDrum Taps of Sorgie.\' You will not hear that name again, but perhaps you\nwill hear the sound again.\"\n\n\"And if I do, what will it imply?\" demanded Maskull in amazement.\n\n\"It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more\ndistinctly.... Now it\'s growing dark, and we must get back.\"\n\nMaskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It\nwas past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore\'s words, and not of\nthe time.\n\nNight had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black\nsky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the\nsea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base\nof the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was\nopen. He caught hold of Nightspore\'s arm violently. \"Look! Krag is\nback.\"\n\n\"Yes, we must make haste to the house.\"\n\n\"And why not the tower? He\'s probably in there, since the gate is open.\nI\'m going up to look.\"\n\nNightspore grunted, but made no opposition.\n\nAll was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the\nflickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone\nsteps. \"Are you coming up?\" he asked.\n\n\"No, I\'ll wait here.\"\n\nMaskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen\nsteps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath.\nHe seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he\nproceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing,\ngrew worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his\nlungs could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a\nship\'s engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he\ncompleted the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with\nthe first window, which was set in a high embrasure.\n\nRealising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and\nclimbed into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see\nsomething from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the\nwindow at the stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it\nwas not a window at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of\nspace containing a multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused\nonly in one part, where two very bright stars, like small moons in size,\nappeared in close conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary\nobject, as brilliant as Venus and with an observable disk. One of the\nsuns shone with a glaring white light; the other was a weird and awful\nblue. Their light, though almost solar in intensity, did not illuminate\nthe interior of the tower.\n\nMaskull knew at once that the system of spheres at which he was gazing\nwas what is known to astronomy as the star Arcturus.... He had seen the\nsight before, through Krag\'s glass, but then the scale had been smaller,\nthe colors of the twin suns had not appeared in their naked reality....\nThese colors seemed to him most marvellous, as if, in seeing them\nthrough earth eyes, he was not seeing them correctly.... But it was\nat Tormance that he stared the longest and the most earnestly. On that\nmysterious and terrible earth, countless millions of miles distant, it\nhad been promised him that he would set foot, even though he might leave\nhis bones there. The strange creatures that he was to behold and touch\nwere already living, at this very moment.\n\nA low, sighing whisper sounded in his ear, from not more than a yard\naway. \"Don\'t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an instrument,\nto be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when he wakes\nyou must die. You will go, but he will return.\"\n\nMaskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was\nin sight, and all was quiet as the tomb.\n\nThe voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he\nredescended to the foot of the tower. On gaining the open air, his\nsensation of weight was instantly removed, but he continued panting and\npalpitating, like a man who has lifted a far too heavy load.\n\nNightspore\'s dark form came forward. \"Was Krag there?\"\n\n\"If he was. I didn\'t see him. But I heard someone speak.\"\n\n\"Was it Krag?\"\n\n\"It was not Krag--but a voice warned me against you.\"\n\n\"Yes, you will hear these voices too,\" said Nightspore enigmatically.\n\n\n\nChapter 5. THE NIGHT OF DEPARTURE\n\nWhen they returned to the house, the windows were all in darkness and\nthe door was ajar, just as they had left it; Krag presumably was not\nthere. Maskull went all over the house, striking matches in every\nroom--at the end of the examination he was ready to swear that the man\nthey were expecting had not even stuck his nose inside the premises.\nGroping their way into the library, they sat down in the total darkness\nto wait, for nothing else remained to be done. Maskull lit his pipe,\nand began to drink the remainder of the whisky. Through the open window\nsounded in their ears the trainlike grinding of the sea at the foot of\nthe cliffs.\n\n\"Krag must be in the tower after all,\" remarked Maskull, breaking the\nsilence.\n\n\"Yes, he is getting ready.\"\n\n\"I hope he doesn\'t expect us to join him there. It was beyond my\npowers--but why, heaven knows. The stairs must have a magnetic pull of\nsome sort.\"\n\n\"It is Tormantic gravity,\" muttered Nightspore.\n\n\"I understand you--or, rather, I don\'t--but it doesn\'t matter.\"\n\nHe went on smoking in silence, occasionally taking a mouthful of the\nneat liquor. \"Who is Surtur?\" he demanded abruptly.\n\n\"We others are gropers and bunglers, but he is a master.\"\n\nMaskull digested this. \"I fancy you are right, for though I know\nnothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you\npersonally acquainted with him?\"\n\n\"I must be... I forget...\" replied Nightspore in a choking voice.\n\nMaskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the\nblackness of the room.\n\n\"Do you know so many extraordinary men that you can forget some of\nthem?... Perhaps you can tell me this... will we meet him, where we are\ngoing?\"\n\n\"You will meet death, Maskull.... Ask me no more questions--I can\'t\nanswer them.\"\n\n\"Then let us go on waiting for Krag,\" said Maskull coldly.\n\nTen minutes later the front door slammed, and a light, quick footstep\nwas heard running up the stairs. Maskull got up, with a beating heart.\n\nKrag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly\nglimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and\nforbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he\nstrode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light\nhardly served to illuminate the walls.\n\n\"You have got here, then, Maskull?\"\n\n\"So it seems--but I shan\'t thank you for your hospitality, for it has\nbeen conspicuous by its absence.\"\n\nKrag ignored the remark. \"Are you ready to start?\"\n\n\"By all means--when you are. It is not so entertaining here.\"\n\nKrag surveyed him critically. \"I heard you stumbling about in the tower.\nYou couldn\'t get up, it seems.\"\n\n\"It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start\ntakes place from the top.\"\n\n\"But your other doubts are all removed?\"\n\n\"So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing to\nsee what you can do.\"\n\n\"Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that until\nyou are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the gravitation\nof Tormance?\"\n\n\"Then I repeat, it\'s an awkward obstacle, for I certainly can\'t get up.\"\n\nKrag hunted about in his pockets, and at length produced a clasp knife.\n\n\"Remove you coat, and roll up your shirt sleeve,\" he directed.\n\n\"Do you propose to make an incision with that?\"\n\n\"Yes, and don\'t start difficulties, because the effect is certain, but\nyou can\'t possibly understand it beforehand.\"\n\n\"Still, a cut with a pocket-knife--\" began Maskull, laughing.\n\n\"It will answer, Maskull,\" interrupted Nightspore.\n\n\"Then bare your arm too, you aristocrat of the universe,\" said Krag.\n\"Let us see what your blood is made of.\"\n\nNightspore obeyed.\n\nKrag pulled out the big blade of the knife, and made a careless and\nalmost savage slash at Maskull\'s upper arm. The wound was deep, and\nblood flowed freely.\n\n\"Do I bind it up?\" asked Maskull, scowling with pain.\n\nKrag spat on the wound. \"Pull your shirt down, it won\'t bleed any more.\"\n\nHe then turned his attention to Nightspore, who endured his operation\nwith grim indifference. Krag threw the knife on the floor.\n\nAn awful agony, emanating from the wound, started to run through\nMaskull\'s body, and he began to doubt whether he would not have to\nfaint, but it subsided almost immediately, and then he felt nothing but\na gnawing ache in the injured arm, just strong enough to make life one\nlong discomfort.\n\n\"That\'s finished,\" said Krag. \"Now you can follow me.\"\n\nPicking up the lantern, he walked toward the door. The others hastened\nafter him, to take advantage of the light, and a moment later their\nfootsteps, clattering down the uncarpeted stairs, resounded through\nthe deserted house. Krag waited till they were out, and then banged the\nfront door after them with such violence that the windows shook.\n\nWhile they were walking swiftly across to the tower, Maskull caught his\narm. \"I heard a voice up those stairs.\"\n\n\"What did it say?\"\n\n\"That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return.\"\n\nKrag smiled. \"The journey is getting notorious,\" he remarked, after\na pause. \"There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you want to\nreturn?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious enough to\nbe mentioned.\"\n\n\"It is not a bad thing to hear voices,\" said Krag, \"but you mustn\'t for\na minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you out of the night\nworld.\"\n\nWhen they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately\nset foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up,\nbearing the lantern. Maskull followed him with some trepidation, in view\nof his previous painful experience on these stairs, but when, after\nthe first half-dozen steps, he discovered that he was still breathing\nfreely, his dread changed to relief and astonishment, and he could have\nchattered like a girl.\n\nAt the lowest window Krag went straight ahead without stepping, but\nMaskull clambered into the embrasure, in order to renew his acquaintance\nwith the miraculous spectacle of the Arcturian group. The lens had lost\nits magic property. It had become a common sheet of glass, through which\nthe ordinary sky field appeared.\n\nThe climb continued, and at the second and third windows he again\nmounted and stared out, but still the common sights presented\nthemselves. After that, he gave up and looked through no more windows.\n\nKrag and Nightspore meanwhile had gone on ahead with the light, so that\nhe had to complete the ascent in darkness. When he was near the top, he\nsaw yellow light shining through the crack of a half-opened door. His\ncompanions were standing just inside a small room, shut off from\nthe staircase by rough wooden planking; it was rudely furnished and\ncontained nothing of astronomical interest. The lantern was resting on a\ntable.\n\nMaskull walked in and looked around him with curiosity. \"Are we at the\ntop?\"\n\n\"Except for the platform over our heads,\" replied Krag.\n\n\"Why didn\'t that lowest window magnify, as it did earlier in the\nevening?\"\n\n\"Oh, you missed your opportunity,\" said Krag, grinning. \"If you had\nfinished your climb then, you would have seen heart-expanding sights.\nFrom the fifth window, for example, you would have seen Tormance like\na continent in relief; from the sixth you would have seen it like a\nlandscape.... But now there\'s no need.\"\n\n\"Why not--and what has need got to do with it?\"\n\n\"Things are changed, my friend, since that wound of yours. For the same\nreason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no\nnecessity to stop and gape at illusions en route.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Maskull, not quite understanding what he meant. \"But\nis this Surtur\'s den?\"\n\n\"He has spent time here.\"\n\n\"I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may not\nget another chance.\"\n\n\"What I said about the windows also applies to Surtur. There\'s no need\nto waste time over visualising him, because you are immediately going on\nto the reality.\"\n\n\"Then let us go.\" He pressed his eyeballs wearily.\n\n\"Do we strip?\" asked Nightspore.\n\n\"Naturally,\" answered Krag, and he began to tear off his clothes with\nslow, uncouth movements.\n\n\"Why?\" demanded Maskull, following, however, the example of the other\ntwo men.\n\nKrag thumped his vast chest, which was covered with thick hairs, like\nan ape\'s. \"Who knows what the Tormance fashions are like? We may sprout\nlimbs--I don\'t say we shall.\"\n\n\"A-ha!\" exclaimed Maskull, pausing in the middle of his undressing.\n\nKrag smote him on the back. \"New pleasure organs possible, Maskull. You\nlike that?\"\n\nThe three men stood as nature made them. Maskull\'s spirits rose fast, as\nthe moment of departure drew near.\n\n\"A farewell drink to success!\" cried Krag, seizing a bottle and breaking\nits head off between his fingers. There were no glasses, but he poured\nthe amber-coloured wine into some cracked cups.\n\nPerceiving that the others drank, Maskull tossed off his cupful. It was\nas if he had swallowed a draught of liquid electricity.... Krag dropped\nonto the floor and rolled around on his back, kicking his legs in the\nair. He tried to drag Maskull down on top of him, and a little horseplay\nwent on between the two. Nightspore took no part in it, but walked to\nand fro, like a hungry caged animal.\n\nSuddenly, from out-of-doors, there came a single prolonged, piercing\nwail, such as a banshee might be imagined to utter. It ceased abruptly,\nand was not repeated.\n\n\"What\'s that?\" called out Maskull, disengaging himself impatiently from\nKrag.\n\nKrag rocked with laughter. \"A Scottish spirit trying to reproduce the\nbagpipes of its earth life--in honour of our departure.\"\n\nNightspore turned to Krag. \"Maskull will sleep throughout the journey?\"\n\n\"And you too, if you wish, my altruistic friend. I am pilot, and you\npassengers can amuse yourselves as you please.\"\n\n\"Are we off at last?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"Yes, you are about to cross your Rubicon, Maskull. But what a\nRubicon!... Do you know that it takes light a hundred years or so to\narrive here from Arcturus? Yet we shall do it in nineteen hours.\"\n\n\"Then you assert that Surtur is already there?\"\n\n\"Surtur is where he is. He is a great traveller.\"\n\n\"Won\'t I see him?\"\n\nKrag went up to him and looked him in the eyes. \"Don\'t forget that you\nhave asked for it, and wanted it. Few people in Tormance will know more\nabout him than you do, but your memory will be your worst friend.\"\n\nHe led the way up a short iron ladder, mounting through a trap to the\nflat roof above. When they were up, he switched on a small electric\ntorch.\n\nMaskull beheld with awe the torpedo of crystal that was to convey them\nthrough the whole breadth of visible space. It was forty feet long,\neight wide, and eight high; the tank containing the Arcturian back\nrays was in front, the car behind. The nose of the torpedo was directed\ntoward the south-eastern sky. The whole machine rested upon a flat\nplatform, raised about four feet above the level of the roof, so as to\nencounter no obstruction on starting its flight.\n\nKrag flashed the light on to the door of the car, to enable them\nto enter. Before doing so, Maskull gazed sternly once again at the\ngigantic, far-distant star, which was to be their sun from now onward.\nHe frowned, shivered slightly, and got in beside Nightspore. Krag\nclambered past them onto his pilot\'s seat. He threw the flashlight\nthrough the open door, which was then carefully closed, fastened, and\nscrewed up.\n\nHe pulled the starting lever. The torpedo glided gently from its\nplatform, and passed rather slowly away from the tower, seaward. Its\nspeed increased sensibly, though not excessively, until the approximate\nlimits of the earth\'s atmosphere were reached. Krag then released the\nspeed valve, and the car sped on its way with a velocity more nearly\napproaching that of thought than of light.\n\nMaskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls\nthe rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness\noppressed him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the\nthirteenth attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily.\n\nThe bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore\'s face. The\nalterations in the aspect of the sky seemed to possess not the least\ninterest for him.\n\nKrag sat with his hand on the lever, watching with savage intentness his\nphosphorescent charts and gauges.\n\n\n\nChapter 6. JOIWIND\n\nIT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind\nwas blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never\nexperienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was\nunable to lift his body because of its intense weight. A numbing pain,\nwhich he could not identify with any region of his frame, acted from\nnow onward as a lower, sympathetic note to all his other sensations. It\ngnawed away at him continuously; sometimes it embittered and irritated\nhim, at other times he forgot it.\n\nHe felt something hard on his forehead. Putting his hand up, he\ndiscovered there a fleshy protuberance the size of a small plum, having\na cavity in the middle, of which he could not feel the bottom. Then\nhe also became aware of a large knob on each side of his neck, an inch\nbelow the ear.\n\nFrom the region of his heart, a tentacle had budded. It was as long as\nhis arm, but thin, like whipcord, and soft and flexible.\n\nAs soon as he thoroughly realised the significance of these new organs,\nhis heart began to pump. Whatever might, or might not, be their use,\nthey proved one thing that he was in a new world.\n\nOne part of the sky began to get lighter than the rest. Maskull cried\nout to his companions, but received no response. This frightened him.\nHe went on shouting out, at irregular intervals--equally alarmed at the\nsilence and at the sound of his own voice. Finally, as no answering hail\ncame, he thought it wiser not to make too much noise, and after that he\nlay quiet, waiting in cold blood for what might happen.\n\nIn a short while he perceived dim shadows around him, but these were not\nhis friends.\n\nA pale, milky vapour over the ground began to succeed the black night,\nwhile in the upper sky rosy tints appeared. On earth, one would have\nsaid that day was breaking. The brightness went on imperceptibly\nincreasing for a very long time.\n\nMaskull then discovered that he was lying on sand. The colour of the\nsand was scarlet. The obscure shadows he had seen were bushes, with\nblack stems and purple leaves. So far, nothing else was visible.\n\nThe day surged up. It was too misty for direct sunshine, but before long\nthe brilliance of the light was already greater than that of the midday\nsun on earth. The heat, too, was intense, but Maskull welcomed it--it\nrelieved his pain and diminished his sense of crushing weight. The wind\nhad dropped with the rising of the sun.\n\nHe now tried to get onto his feet, but succeeded only in kneeling. He\nwas unable to see far. The mists had no more than partially dissolved,\nand all that he could distinguish was a narrow circle of red sand dotted\nwith ten or twenty bushes.\n\nHe felt a soft, cool touch on the back of his neck. He started forward\nin nervous fright and, in doing so, tumbled over onto the sand. Looking\nup over his shoulder quickly, he was astounded to see a woman standing\nbeside him.\n\nShe was clothed in a single flowing, pale green garment, rather\nclassically draped. According to earth standards she was not beautiful,\nfor, although her face was otherwise human, she was endowed--or\nafflicted--with the additional disfiguring organs that Maskull had\ndiscovered in himself. She also possessed the heart tentacle. But when\nhe sat up, and their eyes met and remained in sympathetic contact,\nhe seemed to see right into a soul that was the home of love, warmth,\nkindness, tenderness, and intimacy. Such was the noble familiarity of\nthat gaze, that he thought he knew her. After that, he recognised all\nthe loveliness of her person. She was tall and slight. All her movements\nwere as graceful as music. Her skin was not of a dead, opaque\ncolour, like that of an earth beauty, but was opalescent; its hue was\ncontinually changing, with every thought and emotion, but none of these\ntints was vivid--all were delicate, half-toned, and poetic. She had very\nlong, loosely plaited, flaxen hair. The new organs, as soon as Maskull\nhad familiarised himself with them, imparted something to her face that\nwas unique and striking. He could not quite define it to himself, but\nsubtlety and inwardness seemed added. The organs did not contradict the\nlove of her eyes or the angelic purity of her features, but nevertheless\nsounded a deeper note--a note that saved her from mere girlishness.\n\nHer gaze was so friendly and unembarrassed that Maskull felt scarcely\nany humiliation at sitting at her feet, naked and helpless. She realised\nhis plight, and put into his hands a garment that she had been carrying\nover her arm. It was similar to the one she was wearing, but of a\ndarker, more masculine colour.\n\n\"Do you think you can put it on by yourself?\"\n\nHe was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not\nsounded.\n\nHe forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the\ncomplications of the drapery.\n\n\"Poor man--how you are suffering!\" she said, in the same inaudible\nlanguage. This time he discovered that the sense of what she said was\nreceived by his brain through the organ on his forehead.\n\n\"Where am I? Is this Tormance?\" he asked. As he spoke, he staggered.\n\nShe caught him, and helped him to sit down. \"Yes. You are with friends.\"\n\nThen she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in\nEnglish. Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so\nfresh, nervous, and girlish. \"I can now understand your language. It was\nstrange at first. In the future I\'ll speak to you with my mouth.\"\n\n\"This is extraordinary! What is this organ?\" he asked, touching his\nforehead.\n\n\"It is named the \'breve.\' By means of it we read one another\'s thoughts.\nStill, speech is better, for then the heart can be read too.\"\n\nHe smiled. \"They say that speech is given us to deceive others.\"\n\n\"One can deceive with thought, too. But I\'m thinking of the best, not\nthe worst.\"\n\n\"Have you seen my friends?\"\n\nShe scrutinised him quietly, before answering. \"Did you not come alone?\"\n\n\"I came with two other men, in a machine. I must have lost consciousness\non arrival, and I haven\'t seen them since.\"\n\n\"That\'s very strange! No, I haven\'t seen them. They can\'t be here, or we\nwould have known it. My husband and I--\"\n\n\"What is your name, and your husband\'s name?\"\n\n\"Mine is Joiwind--my husband\'s is Panawe. We live a very long way from\nhere; still, it came to us both last night that you were lying here\ninsensible. We almost quarrelled about which of us should come to\nyou, but in the end I won.\" Here she laughed. \"I won, because I am the\nstronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in perception.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Joiwind!\" said Maskull simply.\n\nThe colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. \"Oh, why do you\nsay that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at\nthe opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood.\"\n\n\"What is this?\" he demanded, rather puzzled.\n\n\"It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world.\nUntil you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.\"\n\nMaskull flushed. \"I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won\'t it\nhurt you?\"\n\n\"If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will share\nthe pain.\"\n\n\"This is a new kind of hospitality to me,\" he muttered.\n\n\"Wouldn\'t you do the same for me?\" asked Joiwind, half smiling, half\nagitated.\n\n\"I can\'t answer for any of my actions in this world. I scarcely know\nwhere I am.... Why, yes--of course I would, Joiwind.\"\n\nWhile they were talking it had become full day. The mists had\nrolled away from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained\nfog-charged. The desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions,\nexcept one, where there was a sort of little oasis--some low hills,\nclothed sparsely with little purple trees from base to summit. It was\nabout a quarter of a mile distant.\n\nJoiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of\nnervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull\nexpostulated.\n\n\"Really, this part of it is nothing,\" she said, laughing. \"And if it\nwere--a sacrifice that is no sacrifice--what merit is there in that?...\nCome now--your arm!\"\n\nThe blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a milky,\nopalescent fluid.\n\n\"Not that one!\" said Maskull, shrinking. \"I have already been cut\nthere.\" He submitted the other, and his blood poured forth.\n\nJoiwind delicately and skilfully placed the mouths of the two wounds\ntogether, and then kept her arm pressed tightly against Maskull\'s for\na long time. He felt a stream of pleasure entering his body through the\nincision. His old lightness and vigour began to return to him. After\nabout five minutes a duel of kindness started between them; he wanted to\nremove his arm, and she to continue. At last he had his way, but it was\nnone too soon--she stood there pale and dispirited.\n\nShe looked at him with a more serious expression than before, as if\nstrange depths had opened up before her eyes.\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Maskull.\"\n\n\"Where have you come from, with this awful blood?\"\n\n\"From a world called Earth.... The blood is clearly unsuitable for this\nworld, Joiwind, but after all, that was only to be expected. I am sorry\nI let you have your way.\"\n\n\"Oh, don\'t say that! There was nothing else to be done. We must all help\none another. Yet, somehow--forgive me--I feel polluted.\"\n\n\"And well you may, for it\'s a fearful thing for a girl to accept in her\nown veins the blood of a strange man from a strange planet. If I had not\nbeen so dazed and weak I would never have allowed it.\"\n\n\"But I would have insisted. Are we not all brothers and sisters? Why did\nyou come here, Maskull?\"\n\nHe was conscious of a slight degree of embarrassment. \"Will you think\nit foolish if I say I hardly know?--I came with those two men. Perhaps I\nwas attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of adventure.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said Joiwind. \"I wonder... These friends of yours must be\nterrible men. Why did they come?\"\n\n\"That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur.\"\n\nHer face grew troubled. \"I don\'t understand it. One of them at least\nmust be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur--or Shaping, as he\nis called here--he can\'t be really bad.\"\n\n\"What do you know of Surtur?\" asked Maskull in astonishment.\n\nJoiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved\nrestlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. \"I see.... and\nyet I don\'t see,\" she said at last. \"It is very difficult.... Your God\nis a dreadful Being--bodyless, unfriendly, invisible. Here we don\'t\nworship a God like that. Tell me, has any man set eyes on your God?\"\n\n\"What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?\"\n\n\"I want to know.\"\n\n\"In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy men\nare reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are\npast.\"\n\n\"Our world is still young,\" said Joiwind. \"Shaping goes among us and\nconverses with us. He is real and active--a friend and lover. Shaping\nmade us, and he loves his work.\"\n\n\"Have you met him?\" demanded Maskull, hardly believing his ears.\n\n\"No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an\nopportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting\nand talking with Shaping.\"\n\n\"I have certainly come to another world. But why do you say he is the\nsame as Surtur?\"\n\n\"Yes, he is the same. We women call him Shaping, and so do most men, but\na few name him Surtur.\"\n\nMaskull bit his nail. \"Have you ever heard of Crystalman?\"\n\n\"That is Shaping once again. You see, he has many names--which shows how\nmuch he occupies our minds. Crystalman is a name of affection.\"\n\n\"It\'s odd,\" said Maskull. \"I came here with quite different ideas about\nCrystalman.\"\n\nJoiwind shook her hair. \"In that grove of trees over there stands a\ndesert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we\'ll go on our\nway to Poolingdred. That is my home. It\'s a long way off, and we must\nget there before Blodsombre.\"\n\n\"Now, what is Blodsombre?\"\n\n\"For about four hours in the middle of the day Branchspell\'s rays are so\nhot that no one can endure them. We call it Blodsombre.\"\n\n\"Is Branchspell another name for Arcturus?\"\n\nJoiwind threw off her seriousness and laughed. \"Naturally we don\'t take\nour names from you, Maskull. I don\'t think our names are very poetic,\nbut they follow nature.\"\n\nShe took his arm affectionately, and directed their walk towards the\ntree-covered hills. As they went along, the sun broke through the\nupper mists and a terrible gust of scorching heat, like a blast from a\nfurnace, struck Maskull\'s head. He involuntarily looked up, but lowered\nhis eyes again like lightning. All that he saw in that instant was a\nglaring ball of electric white, three times the apparent diameter of the\nsun. For a few minutes he was quite blind.\n\n\"My God!\" he exclaimed. \"If it\'s like this in early morning you must be\nright enough about Blodsombre.\" When he had somewhat recovered himself\nhe asked, \"How long are the days here, Joiwind?\"\n\nAgain he felt his brain being probed.\n\n\"At this time of the year, for every hour\'s daylight that you have in\nsummer, we have two.\"\n\n\"The heat is terrific--and yet somehow I don\'t feel so distressed by it\nas I would have expected.\"\n\n\"I feel it more than usual. It\'s not difficult to account for it; you\nhave some of my blood, and I have some of yours.\"\n\n\"Yes, every time I realise that, I--Tell me, Joiwind, will my blood\nalter, if I stay here long enough?--I mean, will it lose its redness and\nthickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like yours?\"\n\n\"Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us.\"\n\n\"Do you mean food and drink?\"\n\n\"We eat no food, and drink only water.\"\n\n\"And on that you manage to sustain life?\"\n\n\"Well, Maskull, our water is good water,\" replied Joiwind, smiling.\n\nAs soon as he could see again he stared around at the landscape. The\nenormous scarlet desert extended everywhere to the horizon, excepting\nwhere it was broken by the oasis. It was roofed by a cloudless, deep\nblue, almost violet, sky. The circle of the horizon was far larger than\non earth. On the skyline, at right angles to the direction in which\nthey were walking, appeared a chain of mountains, apparently about forty\nmiles distant. One, which was higher than the rest, was shaped like a\ncup. Maskull would have felt inclined to believe he was travelling in\ndreamland, but for the intensity of the light, which made everything\nvividly real.\n\nJoiwind pointed to the cup-shaped mountain. \"That\'s Poolingdred.\"\n\n\"You didn\'t come from there!\" he exclaimed, quite startled.\n\n\"Yes, I did indeed. And that is where we have to go to now.\"\n\n\"With the single object of finding me?\"\n\n\"Why, yes.\"\n\nThe colour mounted to his face. \"Then you are the bravest and noblest\nof all girls,\" he said quietly, after a pause. \"Without exception. Why,\nthis is a journey for an athlete!\"\n\nShe pressed his arm, while a score of unpaintable, delicate hues stained\nher cheeks in rapid transition. \"Please don\'t say any more about it,\nMaskull. It makes me feel unpleasant.\"\n\n\"Very well. But can we possibly get there before midday?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. And you mustn\'t be frightened at the distance. We think\nnothing of long distances here--we have so much to think about and feel.\nTime goes all too quickly.\"\n\nDuring their conversation they had drawn neat the base of the hills,\nwhich sloped gently, and were not above fifty feet in height. Maskull\nnow began to see strange specimens of vegetable life. What looked like\na small patch of purple grass, above five feet square, was moving across\nthe sand in their direction. When it came near enough he perceived that\nit was not grass; there were no blades, but only purple roots. The roots\nwere revolving, for each small plant in the whole patch, like the spokes\nof a rimless wheel. They were alternately plunged in the sand, and\nwithdrawn from it, and by this means the plant proceeded forward. Some\nuncanny, semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together,\nmoving at one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in\nflight.\n\nAnother remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a\ndandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind\ncaught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed\nit to Maskull. It had roots and presumably lived in the air and fed on\nthe chemical constituents of the atmosphere. But what was peculiar about\nit was its colour. It was an entirely new colour--not a new shade or\ncombination, but a new primary colour, as vivid as blue, red, or yellow,\nbut quite different. When he inquired, she told him that it was known as\n\"ulfire.\" Presently he met with a second new colour. This she designated\n\"jale.\" The sense impressions caused in Maskull by these two additional\nprimary colors can only be vaguely hinted at by analogy. Just as blue is\ndelicate and mysterious, yellow clear and unsubtle, and red sanguine\nand passionate, so he felt ulfire to be wild and painful, and jale\ndreamlike, feverish, and voluptuous.\n\nThe hills were composed of a rich, dark mould. Small trees, of weird\nshapes, all differing from each other, but all purple-coloured, covered\nthe slopes and top. Maskull and Joiwind climbed up and through. Some\nhard fruit, bright blue in colour, of the size of a large apple, and\nshaped like an egg, was lying in profusion underneath the trees.\n\n\"Is the fruit here poisonous, or why don\'t you eat it?\" asked Maskull.\n\nShe looked at him tranquilly. \"We don\'t eat living things. The thought\nis horrible to us.\"\n\n\"I have nothing to say against that, theoretically. But do you really\nsustain your bodies on water?\"\n\n\"Supposing you could find nothing else to live on, Maskull--would you\neat other men?\"\n\n\"I would not.\"\n\n\"Neither will we eat plants and animals, which are our fellow creatures.\nSo nothing is left to us but water, and as one can really live on\nanything, water does very well.\"\n\nMaskull picked up one of the fruits and handled it curiously. As he did\nso another of his newly acquired sense organs came into action. He\nfound that the fleshy knobs beneath his ears were in some novel fashion\nacquainting him with the inward properties of the fruit. He could not\nonly see, feel, and smell it, but could detect its intrinsic nature.\nThis nature was hard, persistent and melancholy.\n\nJoiwind answered the questions he had not asked.\n\n\"Those organs are called \'poigns.\' Their use is to enable us to\nunderstand and sympathise with all living creatures.\"\n\n\"What advantage do you derive from that, Joiwind?\"\n\n\"The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull.\"\n\nHe threw the fruit away and flushed again.\n\nJoiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and\nslowly smiled. \"Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do you\nknow why you think so? It\'s because you are still impure. By and by you\nwill listen to all language without shame.\"\n\nBefore he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle\nround his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool\npressure. The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and\nsensitive that it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that\nembraced him--a pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced\nneither voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the\ncaress was rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least\ntrace of sex in it--and so he received it.\n\nShe removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and\npenetrated with her eyes right into his very soul.\n\n\"Yes, I wish to be pure,\" he muttered. \"Without that what can I ever be\nbut a weak, squirming devil?\"\n\nJoiwind released him. \"This we call the \'magn,\'\" she said, indicating\nher tentacle. \"By means of it what we love already we love more, and\nwhat we don\'t love at all we begin to love.\"\n\n\"A godlike organ!\"\n\n\"It is the one we guard most jealously,\" said Joiwind.\n\nThe shade of the trees afforded a timely screen from the now almost\ninsufferable rays of Branchspell, which was climbing steadily upward to\nthe zenith. On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull\nlooked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result.\nAfter staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but\nsuspicions had already begun to gather in his mind.\n\nA small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by\nthe tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand. In the very middle\nshot up a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and\ntransparent, crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural,\ncircular well, containing dark green water.\n\nWhen they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the\nwell.\n\nMaskull gazed at it intently. \"Is this the shrine you talked about?\"\n\n\"Yes. It is called Shaping\'s Well. The man or woman who wishes to invoke\nShaping must take up some of the gnawl water, and drink it.\"\n\n\"Pray for me,\" said Maskull. \"Your unspotted prayer will carry more\nweight.\"\n\n\"What do you wish for?\"\n\n\"For purity,\" answered Maskull, in a troubled voice.\n\nJoiwind made a cup of her hand, and drank a little of the water. She\nheld it up to Maskull\'s mouth. \"You must drink too.\" He obeyed. She then\nstood erect, closed her eyes, and, in a voice like the soft murmurings\nof spring, prayed aloud.\n\n\"Shaping, my father, I am hoping you can hear me. A strange man has come\nto us weighed down with heavy blood. He wishes to be pure. Let him know\nthe meaning of love, let him live for others. Don\'t spare him pain, dear\nShaping, but let him seek his own pain. Breathe into him a noble soul.\"\n\nMaskull listened with tears in his heart.\n\nAs Joiwind finished speaking, a blurred mist came over his eyes, and,\nhalf buried in the scarlet sand, appeared a large circle of dazzlingly\nwhite pillars. For some minutes they flickered to and fro between\ndistinctness and indistinctness, like an object being focused. Then they\nfaded out of sight again.\n\n\"Is that a sign from Shaping?\" asked Maskull, in a low, awed tone.\n\n\"Perhaps it is. It is a time mirage.\"\n\n\"What can that be, Joiwind?\"\n\n\"You see, dear Maskull, the temple does not yet exist but it will do so,\nbecause it must. What you and I are now doing in simplicity, wise men\nwill do hereafter in full knowledge.\"\n\n\"It is right for man to pray,\" said Maskull. \"Good and evil in the world\ndon\'t originate from nothing. God and Devil must exist. And we should\npray to the one, and fight the other.\"\n\n\"Yes, we must fight Krag.\"\n\n\"What name did you say?\" asked Maskull in amazement.\n\n\"Krag--the author of evil and misery--whom you call Devil.\"\n\nHe immediately concealed his thoughts. To prevent Joiwind from learning\nhis relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank.\n\n\"Why do you hide your mind from me?\" she demanded, looking at him\nstrangely and changing colour.\n\n\"In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can\nscarcely grasp its meaning.\" But he lied.\n\nJoiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul. \"The\nworld is good and pure, but many men are corrupt. Panawe, my husband,\nhas travelled, and he has told me things I would almost rather have\nnot heard. One person he met believed the universe to be, from top to\nbottom, a conjurer\'s cave.\"\n\n\"I should like to meet your husband.\"\n\n\"Well, we are going home now.\"\n\nMaskull was on the point of inquiring whether she had any children, but\nwas afraid of offending her, and checked himself.\n\nShe read the mental question. \"What need is there? Is not the whole\nworld full of lovely children? Why should I want selfish possessions?\"\n\nAn extraordinary creature flew past, uttering a plaintive cry of five\ndistinct notes. It was not a bird, but had a balloon-shaped body,\npaddled by five webbed feet. It disappeared among the trees.\n\nJoiwind pointed to it, as it went by. \"I love that beast, grotesque as\nit is--perhaps all the more for its grotesqueness. But if I had children\nof my own, would I still love it? Which is best--to love two or three,\nor to love all?\"\n\n\"Every woman can\'t be like you, Joiwind, but it is good to have a few\nlike you. Wouldn\'t it be as well,\" he went on, \"since we\'ve got to walk\nthrough that sun-baked wilderness, to make turbans for our heads out of\nsome of those long leaves?\"\n\nShe smiled rather pathetically. \"You will think me foolish, but every\ntearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have only to\nthrow our robes over our heads.\"\n\n\"No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me--weren\'t these\nvery robes once part of a living creature?\"\n\n\"Oh, no--no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they have never\nbeen in themselves alive.\"\n\n\"You reduce life to extreme simplicity,\" remarked Maskull meditatively,\n\"but it is very beautiful.\"\n\nClimbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began\ntheir march across the desert.\n\nThey walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight toward\nPoolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged their way to\nlie due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very tiring to his naked\nfeet. The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him semi-blind. He was hot,\nparched, and tormented with the craving to drink; his undertone of pain\nemerged into full consciousness.\n\n\"I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer.\"\n\n\"Yes, it is queer--if it is accidental,\" said Joiwind, with a peculiar\nintonation.\n\n\"Exactly!\" agreed Maskull. \"If they had met with a mishap, their bodies\nwould still be there. It begins to look like a piece of bad work to me.\nThey must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am here, and I must make\nthe best of it, I will trouble no more about them.\"\n\n\"I don\'t wish to speak ill of anyone,\" said Joiwind, \"but my instinct\ntells me that you are better away from those men. They did not come here\nfor your sake, but for their own.\"\n\nThey walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint.\nShe twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of\nconfidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins.\n\n\"Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. \"But not much--and\nit gives me great happiness.\"\n\nPresently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born\nlamb, waltzing along on three legs. Each leg in turn moved to the front,\nand so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete\nrotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into\npots of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining\neyes, as they passed.\n\nJoiwind nodded and smiled to it. \"That\'s a personal friend of mine,\nMaskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it. It\'s always waltzing, and\nalways in a hurry, but it never seems to get anywhere.\"\n\n\"It seems to me that life is so self-sufficient here that there is no\nneed for anyone to get anywhere. What I don\'t quite understand is how\nyou manage to pass your days without ennui.\"\n\n\"That\'s a strange word. It means, does it not, craving for excitement?\"\n\n\"Something of the kind,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"That must be a disease brought on by rich food.\"\n\n\"But are you never dull?\"\n\n\"How could we be? Our blood is quick and light and free, our flesh is\nclean and unclogged, inside and out.... Before long I hope you will\nunderstand what sort of question you have asked.\"\n\nFarther on they encountered a strange phenomenon. In the heart of the\ndesert a fountain rose perpendicularly fifty feet into the air, with a\ncool and pleasant hissing sound. It differed, however, from a fountain\nin this respect--that the water of which it was composed did not return\nto the ground but was absorbed by the atmosphere at the summit. It was\nin fact a tall, graceful column of dark green fluid, with a capital of\ncoiling and twisting vapours.\n\nWhen they came closer, Maskull perceived that this water column was the\ncontinuation and termination of a flowing brook, which came down from\nthe direction of the mountains. The explanation of the phenomenon was\nevidently that the water at this spot found chemical affinities in the\nupper air, and consequently forsook the ground.\n\n\"Now let us drink,\" said Joiwind.\n\nShe threw herself unaffectedly at full length on the sand, face\ndownward, by the side of the brook, and Maskull was not long in\nfollowing her example. She refused to quench her thirst until she had\nseen him drink. He found the water heavy, but bubbling with gas. He\ndrank copiously. It affected his palate in a new way--with the purity\nand cleanness of water was combined the exhilaration of a sparkling\nwine, raising his spirits--but somehow the intoxication brought out his\nbetter nature, and not his lower.\n\n\"We call it \'gnawl water\',\" said Joiwind. \"This is not quite pure, as\nyou can see by the colour. At Poolingdred it is crystal clear. But we\nwould be ungrateful if we complained. After this you\'ll find we\'ll get\nalong much better.\"\n\nMaskull now began to realise his environment, as it were for the first\ntime. All his sense organs started to show him beauties and wonders that\nhe had not hitherto suspected. The uniform glaring scarlet of the sands\nbecame separated into a score of clearly distinguished shades of red.\nThe sky was similarly split up into different blues. The radiant heat\nof Branchspell he found to affect every part of his body with unequal\nintensities. His ears awakened; the atmosphere was full of murmurs, the\nsands hummed, even the sun\'s rays had a sound of their own--a kind of\nfaint Aeolian harp. Subtle, puzzling perfumes assailed his nostrils. His\npalate lingered over the memory of the gnawl water. All the pores of his\nskin were tickled and soothed by hitherto unperceived currents of air.\nHis poigns explored actively the inward nature of everything in his\nimmediate vicinity. His magn touched Joiwind, and drew from her person\na stream of love and joy. And lastly by means of his breve he exchanged\nthoughts with her in silence. This mighty sense symphony stirred him to\nthe depths, and throughout the walk of that endless morning he felt no\nmore fatigue.\n\nWhen it was drawing near to Blodsombre, they approached the sedgy margin\nof a dark green lake, which lay underneath Poolingdred.\n\nPanawe was sitting on a dark rock, waiting for them.\n\n\n\nChapter 7. PANAWE\n\nThe husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in\nwhite. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face\nand body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked\nskin at all--it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh,\nextending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the\nartificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness\nand delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the\nmanifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair,\nwhich fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from\nvigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was\nstill a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the\nappearance of a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and\nharmony.\n\nHis magn and Joiwind\'s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull saw\nhis face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in her\nhusband\'s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and smiling.\nMaskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but\nsubmitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in\nthe act.\n\n\"The stranger is red-blooded, then?\"\n\nHe was startled by Panawe\'s speaking in English, and the voice too was\nextraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed\nin a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of\nthoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected.\nHow this could be, he did not know.\n\n\"How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?\"\ndemanded Maskull.\n\n\"Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can\'t say if I am really speaking\nyour tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my thoughts\ninto your tongue as I utter them.\"\n\n\"Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,\" said Joiwind gaily.\n\n\"What is your name?\" asked the husband.\n\n\"Maskull.\"\n\n\"That name must have a meaning--but again, thought is a strange thing. I\nconnect that name with something--but with what?\"\n\n\"Try to discover,\" said Joiwind.\n\n\"Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the Maker\nof the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?\"\n\n\"There is such a myth, The hero\'s name was Prometheus.\"\n\n\"Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action--but what\nit all means I can\'t say, Maskull.\"\n\n\"Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks\nthoughtlessly.\"\n\n\"There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,\" said\nMaskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative.\n\n\"Where do you come from?\"\n\n\"From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.\"\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"I was tired of vulgarity,\" returned Maskull laconically. He\nintentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that\nKrag\'s name should not come to light.\n\n\"That\'s an honourable motive,\" said Panawe. \"And what\'s more, it may be\ntrue, though you spoke it as a prevarication.\"\n\n\"As far as it goes, it\'s quite true,\" said Maskull, staring at him with\nannoyance and surprise.\n\nThe swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were\nstanding to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds\nshowed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was\ndark green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it.\n\nJoiwind caught his arm. \"Perhaps you don\'t know that the lake will bear\nus?\"\n\nPanawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his\nweight. Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip\nabout--nevertheless the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by\nwatching and imitating Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself\nwithout assistance. After that he found the sport excellent.\n\nFor the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind\'s half falls\nand recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either of\nthe men. Her slight, draped form--dipping, bending, rising, swaying,\ntwisting, upon the surface of the dark water--this was a picture Maskull\ncould not keep his eyes away from.\n\nThe lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags,\ngullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in\ndetail. A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet.\nThe surface of the lake grew disturbed--so much so that Maskull had\ndifficulty in keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and\nstarted swimming on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and\nlaughed so joyously that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight.\n\nThey landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The\nwater on Maskull\'s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed\nupward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange\nmovements on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was\nworking convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his\nhand to his mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured\npebble. He looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked,\nover his shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection,\nPanawe let the object--whatever it was--fall to the ground, and took no\nmore interest in it.\n\n\"May I look?\" asked Maskull; and, without waiting for permission, he\npicked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped crystal of pale\ngreen.\n\n\"Where did this come from?\" he asked queerly.\n\nPanawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. \"It came out of my\nhusband.\"\n\n\"That\'s what I thought, but I couldn\'t believe it. But what is it?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an\noverflowing of beauty.\"\n\n\"Beauty?\"\n\nJoiwind smiled. \"If you were to regard nature as the husband, and Panawe\nas the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.\"\n\nMaskull reflected.\n\n\"On Earth,\" he said after a minute, \"men like Panawe are called artists,\npoets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and out of them\nagain. The only distinction is that their productions are more human and\nintelligible.\"\n\n\"Nothing comes from it but vanity,\" said Panawe, and, taking the crystal\nout of Maskull\'s hand, he threw it into the lake.\n\nThe precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height.\nMaskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently\ntiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of\nthe two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet\nthoughts. The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight.\nThe heat of Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing,\nthe radiance was shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull\'s pain\nsteadily grew worse.\n\nWhen they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of\nvegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see.\nIt was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of\nthe cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The\nhills varied in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a\nthousand feet above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind\nof glittering vegetation which he could not comprehend.\n\nJoiwind put her hand on Maskull\'s shoulder, and pointed upward. \"Here\nyou have the highest peak in the whole land--that is, until you come to\nthe Ifdawn Marest.\"\n\nOn hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable\nsensation of wild vigour and restlessness--but it passed away.\n\nWithout losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower\nhalf was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it\ngrew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth\nbecame thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the\nsummit, tall forest trees appeared.\n\nThese bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the\nsmall twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast\nno shadows from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and\nbranches were fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most,\nhowever, was the fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two\nplants belonged to the same species.\n\n\"Won\'t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?\" said Joiwind, pulling\nher husband\'s arm.\n\nHe smiled. \"If he\'ll forgive me for again trespassing in his brain. But\nthe difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is necessarily\nenergetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is still\nfluid--not yet rigid--and matter is plastic. The will forks and sports\nincessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.\"\n\n\"Well, I understand all that,\" replied Maskull, after listening\nattentively. \"But what I don\'t grasp is this--if living creatures here\nsport so energetically, how does it come about that human beings wear\nmuch the same shape as in my world?\"\n\n\"I\'ll explain that too,\" said Panawe. \"All creatures that resemble\nShaping must of necessity resemble one another.\"\n\n\"Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"It is most wonderful,\" said Maskull. \"Then the brotherhood of man is\nnot a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.\"\n\nJoiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into\nsternness.\n\nMaskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured\nblossoms of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his\nbreve he could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, \"To me To\nme!\" While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to\none of these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry\nimmediately ceased.\n\nThey now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond.\nA lake occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly\nintercepted the view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this\nmountain lake was nearly circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile\nacross. Its shore stood a hundred feet below them.\n\nObserving that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to\nwait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he\nfound the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency.\nHe walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths.\nIt was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance,\nwithout arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out\nof reach of his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and\nmysterious, seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense\ndepth. It was like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal\nlength, but the accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable\ntime, and then ceased.\n\nThe sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that\nin which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and\nunbelievable--the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality.\nIt resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only\noccasionally possible to be picked up by the ear.\n\nHe rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his\nexperience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down\non the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked\nthe desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose\ndimensions could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet\nhe could not make out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of\ntransparent glass, but it did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in\nit could be distinguished, except a rolling river in the far distance,\nand, farther off still, on the horizon, a line of dark mountains, of\nstrange shapes. Instead of being rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these\nheights were carved by nature into the semblance of castle battlements,\nbut with extremely deep indentations.\n\nThe sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue.\nIt contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the\nheavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the\nafterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset.\n\nMaskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble\nbecame his feelings.\n\n\"What is that light?\"\n\nPanawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. \"It\nis Alppain--our second sun,\" he replied. \"Those hills are the Ifdawn\nMarest.... Now let us get to our shelter.\"\n\n\"Is it imagination, or am I really being affected--tormented by that\nlight?\"\n\n\"No, it\'s not imagination--it\'s real. How can it be otherwise when two\nsuns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same time? Luckily\nyou are not looking at Alppain itself. It\'s invisible here. You would\nneed to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.\"\n\n\"Why do you say \'luckily\'?\"\n\n\"Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be more\nthan you could bear.... But I don\'t know.\"\n\nFor the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very\nthoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye\nchanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and\nstillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting.\nPanawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led\nthe way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain\nand terminated in the mouth of a cave.\n\nThis cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The\nhost took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly\nsprinkled the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent\nlight gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and\ncontinued to illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was\nno furniture. Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches.\n\nThe moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband\ntended her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips,\nenergised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At\nthe sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was\ndistressed.\n\nPanawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. \"It\'s quite true this\nhas been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it\nwill lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of\nsacrifice.\"\n\n\"I can\'t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,\" said Maskull,\n\"and she has been twice the distance.\"\n\n\"Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that\'s why she is so\nstrong.\"\n\n\"You know she gave me some of it?\"\n\n\"Otherwise you couldn\'t even have started.\"\n\n\"I shall never forget that.\"\n\nThe languorous beat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern,\nthe cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited\nMaskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude.\n\n\"Will it disturb her if we talk?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"But how do you feel?\"\n\n\"I require little sleep. In any case, it\'s more important that you\nshould hear something about your new life. It\'s not all as innocent and\nidyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be instructed\nabout the dangers.\"\n\n\"Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange--shall I put questions,\nor will you tell me what you think is most essential?\"\n\nPanawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the\nsame time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs.\n\n\"I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from\nthem what sort of place you have come to.\"\n\n\"I shall be grateful,\" said Maskull, preparing himself to listen.\n\nPanawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in\ntranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones.\n\nPANAWE\'S STORY\n\n\"My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old\n(that\'s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more slowly\nhere), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in\nTormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through\ntrees for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we\nwent along, until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark\nred colour and the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping\nto think. If left uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep\nabstraction. My mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different\nstamp. She was beautiful, generous, and charming--but also active. She\nkept urging him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made\nme miserable. On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest\nwhich bordered on the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water\nthat will not bear a man\'s weight, and as these light parts don\'t differ\nin appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed\nout a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone\'s Island.\nMen sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the\nsame day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest,\nsurrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big\ngnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a\nhundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His\nbody was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed\nat equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of\ngreat watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance.\nI afterward heard this saying of his: \'To lie is to sleep, to sit is to\ndream, to stand is to think.\' My father caught the infection, and fell\ninto meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol\nscowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I\ntoo learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a\nprodigy--that is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled\nover this, and wished to consult the wisest of men.\n\n\"Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, \'This perhaps will not be so\ndifficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among us is a\nwalking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the female\nwho was born in the same body with him--if a female, she has killed the\nmale. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.\'\n\n\"\'How shall we end it?\' asked my mother.\n\n\"\'Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, and it will\nbe of whichever sex it pleases.\'\n\n\"\'You want, of course, to be a man, don\'t you?\' said my mother to me\nearnestly.\n\n\"\'Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a crime.\'\n\n\"Something in my tone attracted Broodviol\'s notice.\n\n\"\'That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore the male\nmust have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you arrive\nhome, the child will be a boy.\'\n\n\"My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before\nBroodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking\nkindly at her.\n\n\"I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a few\nhours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died.\n\n\"His prophecy came true--before we reached home, I knew the meaning of\nshame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later\nyears, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the\nconclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite\nstraight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in\none body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for\nlife withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was\nthe stronger temperament, and she sacrificed herself--though not\nconsciously--for me.\n\n\"As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or destroy\nanything that contained life--and I have kept it ever since.\n\n\"While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother\'s\ndeath followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I\ntherefore made up my mind to travel into my mother\'s country, where, as\nshe had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary.\n\n\"One hot morning I came to Shaping\'s Causeway. It is so called either\nbecause Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous character.\nIt is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the mountains\nbordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies below at\na depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet--a terrible precipice\non either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not much over a\nfoot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley on my right\nhand was plunged in shadow--that on my left was sparkling with sunlight\nand dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for some miles.\nFar to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, connecting\nthe two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most towering\npinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but I have\nheard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is\nthat they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to\ntravelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with\nwhom they reside.\n\n\"Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while,\nclutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the\nground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like\na different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I\nsaw someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart\nagain, for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I\nwent slowly on, and presently we drew near enough together for me to\nrecognise the walker. It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had\nnever met him before, but I knew him by his peculiarities of person. He\nwas of a bright gamboge colour and possessed a very long, proboscis-like\nnose, which appeared to be a useful organ, but did not add to his\nbeauty, as I knew beauty. He was dubbed \'sorcerer\' from his wondrous\nskill in budding limbs and organs. The tale is told that one evening he\nslowly sawed his leg off with a blunt stone and then lay for two days\nin agony while his new leg was sprouting. He was not reputed to be a\nconsistently wise man, but he had periodical flashes of penetration and\naudacity that none could equal.\n\n\"We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart.\n\n\"\'Which of us walks over the other?\' asked Slofork. His manner was as\ncalm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible with hidden\nterrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this humiliation. We\ncontinued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many minutes.\n\n\"\'What is greater than Pleasure?\' he asked suddenly.\n\n\"I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any emergency,\nso, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the conversation, as if\nit were for that purpose we had met.\n\n\"\'Pain,\' I replied, \'for pain drives out pleasure.\'\n\n\"\'What is greater than Pain?\'\n\n\"I reflected. \'Love. Because we will accept our loved one\'s share of\npain.\'\n\n\"\'But what is greater than Love?\' he persisted.\n\n\"\'Nothing, Slofork.\'\n\n\"\'And what is Nothing?\'\n\n\"\'That you must tell me.\'\n\n\"\'Tell you I will. This is Shaping\'s world. He that is a good child\nhere, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But there\'s\nanother world--not Shaping\'s and there all this is unknown, and another\norder of things reigns. That world we call Nothing--but it is not\nNothing, but Something.\'\n\n\"There was a pause.\n\n\"\'I have heard,\' said I, \'that you are good at growing and ungrowing\norgans?\'\n\n\"\'That\'s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the same story. I want\nto hear different stories.\'\n\n\"\'Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in pulses?\'\n\n\"\'Quite true,\' replied Slofork. \'But those you had it from did not add\nthat they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.\'\n\n\"\'My experience is,\' said I sententiously, \'that wisdom is misery.\'\n\n\"\'Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and never\nwill. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful face. You\nwill never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own way.\'\n\n\"Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the\npath, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum\ntoward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground,\nand shut my eyes.\n\n\"Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks it\nwas that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide.\nWhichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to\nspeak for my own pleasure, but only to help others.\n\n\"I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for\nfour days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the\npossibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly\nthrough, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the\nthird extraordinary personage of my experience--the grim Muremaker. It\nwas under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I\nsaw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was\nhanging in an upright position in front of a cliff--a yawning gulf, a\nthousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could,\nand looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to\nturn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I\ncould not even grasp what had happened.\n\n\"\'I am Muremaker,\' he cried in a scraping voice which shocked my ears.\n\'All my life I have sorbed others--now I am sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell\nout over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. While the strength\nof his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but when he gets tired--and\nit can\'t be long now--I drop into those depths.\'\n\n\"Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this\nogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole\nexistence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake\nof his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day.\n\n\"In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a\nmonth, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to\npart.\"\n\nPanawe stopped speaking.\n\n\"That is a fascinating story,\" remarked Maskull. \"Now I begin to know my\nway around better. But one thing puzzles me.\"\n\n\"What\'s that?\"\n\n\"How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and have\nno civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and wise\nin their thoughts.\"\n\n\"Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I see\nhow it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make\nup for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of\nstones and metals. That\'s by no means a sign of superiority.\"\n\n\"No, I suppose not,\" said Maskull, \"but I see I have a great deal to\nunlearn.\"\n\nThey talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep.\nJoiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again.\n\n\n\nChapter 8. THE LUSION PLAIN\n\nMaskull awoke before the others. He got up, stretched himself, and\nwalked out into the sunlight. Branchspell was already declining. He\nclimbed to the top of the crater edge and looked away toward Ifdawn. The\nafterglow of Alppain had by now completely disappeared. The mountains\nstood up wild and grand.\n\nThey impressed him like a simple musical theme, the notes of which\nare widely separated in the scale; a spirit of rashness, daring, and\nadventure seemed to call to him from them. It was at that moment that\nthe determination flashed into his heart to walk to the Marest and\nexplore its dangers.\n\nHe returned to the cavern to say good-by to his hosts.\n\nJoiwind looked at him with her brave and honest eyes. \"Is this\nselfishness, Maskull?\" she asked, \"or are you drawn by something\nstronger than yourself?\"\n\n\"We must be reasonable,\" he answered, smiling. \"I can\'t settle down in\nPoolingdred before I have found out something about this surprising\nnew planet of yours. Remember what a long way I have come.... But very\nlikely I shall come back here.\"\n\n\"Will you make me a promise?\"\n\nMaskull hesitated. \"Ask nothing difficult, for I hardly know my powers\nyet.\"\n\n\"It is not hard, and I wish it. Promise this--never to raise your hand\nagainst a living creature, either to strike, pluck, or eat, without\nfirst recollecting its mother, who suffered for it.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I won\'t promise that,\" said Maskull slowly, \"but I\'ll undertake\nsomething more tangible. I will never lift my hand against a living\ncreature without first recollecting you, Joiwind.\"\n\nShe turned a little pale. \"Now if Panawe knew that Panawe existed, he\nmight be jealous.\"\n\nPanawe put his hand on her gently. \"You would not talk like that in\nShaping\'s presence,\" he said.\n\n\"No. Forgive me! I\'m not quite myself. Perhaps it is Maskull\'s blood in\nmy veins.... Now let us bid him adieu. Let us pray that he will do only\nhonourable deeds, wherever he may be.\"\n\n\"I\'ll set Maskull on his way,\" said Panawe.\n\n\"There\'s no need,\" replied Maskull. \"The way is plain.\"\n\n\"But talking shortens the road.\"\n\nMaskull turned to go.\n\nJoiwind pulled him around toward her softly. \"You won\'t think badly of\nother women on my account?\"\n\n\"You are a blessed spirit,\" answered he.\n\nShe trod quietly to the inner extremity of the cave and stood there\nthinking. Panawe and Maskull emerged into the open air. Halfway down the\ncliff face a little spring was encountered. Its water was colourless,\ntransparent, but gaseous. As soon as Maskull had satisfied his thirst\nhe felt himself different. His surroundings were so real to him in their\nvividness and colour, so unreal in their phantom-like mystery, that he\nscrambled downhill like one in a winter\'s dream.\n\nWhen they reached the plain he saw in front of them an interminable\nforest of tall trees, the shapes of which were extraordinarily foreign\nlooking. The leaves were crystalline and, looking upward, it was as if\nhe were gazing through a roof of glass. The moment they got underneath\nthe trees the light rays of the sun continued to come through--white,\nsavage, and blazing--but they were gelded of heat. Then it was not hard\nto imagine that they were wandering through cool, bright elfin glades.\n\nThrough the forest, beginning at their very feet an avenue, perfectly\nstraight and not very wide, went forward as far as the eye could see.\n\nMaskull wanted to talk to his travelling companion, but was somehow\nunable to find words. Panawe glanced at him with an inscrutable\nsmile--stern, yet enchanting and half feminine. He then broke the\nsilence, but, strangely enough, Maskull could not make out whether he\nwas singing or speaking. From his lips issued a slow musical\nrecitative, exactly like a bewitching adagio from a low toned stringed\ninstrument--but there was a difference. Instead of the repetition and\nvariation of one or two short themes, as in music, Panawe\'s theme was\nprolonged--it never came to an end, but rather resembled a conversation\nin rhythm and melody. And, at the same time, it was no recitative, for\nit was not declamatory. It was a long, quiet stream of lovely emotion.\n\nMaskull listened entranced, yet agitated. The song, if it might be\ntermed song, seemed to be always just on the point of becoming clear and\nintelligible--not with the intelligibility of words, but in the way one\nsympathises with another\'s moods and feelings; and Maskull felt that\nsomething important was about to be uttered, which would explain\nall that had gone before. But it was invariably postponed, he never\nunderstood--and yet somehow he did understand.\n\nLate in the afternoon they came to a clearing, and there Panawe ceased\nhis recitative. He slowed his pace and stopped, in the fashion of a man\nwho wishes to convey that he intends to go no farther.\n\n\"What is the name of this country?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"It is the Lusion Plain.\"\n\n\"Was that music in the nature of a temptation--do you wish me not to go\non?\"\n\n\"Your work lies before you, and not behind you.\"\n\n\"What was it, then? What work do you allude to?\"\n\n\"It must have seemed like something to you, Maskull.\"\n\n\"It seemed like Shaping music to me.\"\n\nThe instant he had absently uttered these words, Maskull wondered why he\nhad done so, as they now appeared meaningless to him.\n\nPanawe, however, showed no surprise. \"Shaping you will find everywhere.\"\n\n\"Am I dreaming, or awake?\"\n\n\"You are awake.\"\n\nMaskull fell into deep thought. \"So be it,\" he said, rousing himself.\n\"Now I will go on. But where must I sleep tonight?\"\n\n\"You will reach a broad river. On that you can travel to the foot of the\nMarest tomorrow; but tonight you had better sleep where the forest and\nriver meet.\"\n\n\"Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?\"\n\n\"Only this, Maskull--wherever you go, help to make the world beautiful,\nand not ugly.\"\n\n\"That\'s more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, and have\nno ambitions in the way of beautifying life--But tell Joiwind I will try\nto keep myself pure.\"\n\nThey parted rather coldly. Maskull stood erect where they had stopped,\nand watched Panawe out of sight. He sighed more than once.\n\nHe became aware that something was about to happen. The air was\nbreathless. The late-afternoon sunshine, unobstructed, wrapped his frame\nin voluptuous heat. A solitary cloud, immensely high, raced through the\nsky overhead.\n\nA single trumpet note sounded in the far distance from somewhere behind\nhim. It gave him an impression of being several miles away at first; but\nthen it slowly swelled, and came nearer and nearer at the same time that\nit increased in volume. Still the same note sounded, but now it was\nas if blown by a giant trumpeter immediately over his head. Then it\ngradually diminished in force, and travelled away in front of him. It\nended very faintly and distantly.\n\nHe felt himself alone with Nature. A sacred stillness came over his\nheart. Past and future were forgotten. The forest, the sun, the day did\nnot exist for him. He was unconscious of himself--he had no thoughts and\nno feelings. Yet never had Life had such an altitude for him.\n\nA man stood, with crossed arms, right in his path. He was so clothed\nthat his limbs were exposed, while his body was covered. He was young\nrather than old. Maskull observed that his countenance possessed none\nof the special organs of Tormance, to which he had not even yet become\nreconciled. He was smooth-faced. His whole person seemed to radiate an\nexcess of life, like the trembling of air on a hot day. His eyes had\nsuch force that Maskull could not meet them.\n\nHe addressed Maskull by name, in an extraordinary voice. It had a double\ntone. The primary one sounded far away; the second was an undertone,\nlike a sympathetic tanging string.\n\nMaskull felt a rising joy, as he continued standing in the presence of\nthis individual. He believed that something good was happening to him.\nHe found it physically difficult to bring any words out. \"Why do you\nstop me?\"\n\n\"Maskull, look well at me. Who am I?\"\n\n\"I think you are Shaping.\"\n\n\"I am Surtur.\"\n\nMaskull again attempted to meet his eyes, but felt as if he were being\nstabbed.\n\n\"You know that this is my world. Why do you think I have brought you\nhere? I wish you to serve me.\"\n\nMaskull could no longer speak.\n\n\"Those who joke at my world,\" continued the vision, \"those who make a\nmock of its stern, eternal rhythm, its beauty and sublimity, which\nare not skin-deep, but proceed from fathomless roots--they shall not\nescape.\"\n\n\"I do not mock it.\"\n\n\"Ask me your questions, and I will answer them.\"\n\n\"I have nothing.\"\n\n\"It is necessary for you to serve me, Maskull. Do you not understand?\nYou are my servant and helper.\"\n\n\"I shall not fail.\"\n\n\"This is for my sake, and not for yours.\"\n\nThese last words had no sooner left Surtur\'s mouth than Maskull saw him\nspring suddenly upward and outward. Looking up at the vault of the sky,\nhe saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur\'s form--not as\na concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and\nfrowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out.\n\nMaskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the\nsolitary trumpet note. The sound began this time faintly in the far\ndistance in front of him, travelled slowly toward him with regularly\nincreasing intensity, passed overhead at its loudest, and then grew\nmore and more quiet, wonderful, and solemn, as it fell away in the rear,\nuntil the note was merged in the deathlike silence of the forest. It\nappeared to Maskull like the closing of a marvellous and important\nchapter.\n\nSimultaneously with the fading away of the sound, the heavens seemed to\nopen up with the rapidity of lightning into a blue vault of immeasurable\nheight. He breathed a great breath, stretched all his limbs, and looked\naround him with a slow smile.\n\nAfter a while he resumed his journey. His brain was all dark and\nconfused, but one idea was already beginning to stand out from the\nrest--huge, shapeless, and grand, like the growing image in the soul of\na creative artist: the staggering thought that he was a man of destiny.\n\nThe more he reflected upon all that had occurred since his arrival in\nthis new world--and even before leaving Earth--the clearer and more\nindisputable it became, that he could not be here for his own purposes,\nbut must be here for an end. But what that end was, he could not\nimagine.\n\nThrough the forest he saw Branchspell at last sinking in the west. It\nlooked a stupendous ball of red fire--now he could realise at his ease\nwhat a sun it was! The avenue took an abrupt turn to the left and began\nto descend steeply.\n\nA wide, rolling river of clear and dark water was visible in front of\nhim, no great way off. It flowed from north to south. The forest path\nled him straight to its banks. Maskull stood there, and regarded the\nlapping, gurgling waters pensively. On the opposite bank, the forest\ncontinued. Miles to the south, Poolingdred could just be distinguished.\nOn the northern skyline the Ifdawn Mountains loomed up--high, wild,\nbeautiful, and dangerous. They were not a dozen miles away.\n\nLike the first mutterings of a thunderstorm, the first faint breaths of\ncool wind, Maskull felt the stirrings of passion in his heart. In\nspite of his bodily fatigue, he wished to test his strength against\nsomething. This craving he identified with the crags of the Marest. They\nseemed to have the same magical attraction for his will as the lodestone\nfor iron. He kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that\ndirection--wondering if it would not be possible to conquer the\nheights that evening. But when he glanced back again at Poolingdred,\nhe remembered Joiwind and Panawe, and grew more tranquil. He decided to\nmake his bed at this spot, and to set off as soon after daybreak as he\nshould awake.\n\nHe drank at the river, washed himself, and lay down on the bank to\nsleep. By this time, so far had his idea progressed, that he cared\nnothing for the possible dangers of the night--he confided in his star.\n\nBranchspell set, the day faded, night with its terrible weight came on,\nand through it all Maskull slept. Long before midnight, however, he was\nawakened by a crimson glow in the sky. He opened his eyes, and wondered\nwhere he was. He felt heaviness and pain. The red glow was a terrestrial\nphenomenon; it came from among the trees. He got up and went toward the\nsource of the light.\n\nAway from the river, not a hundred feet off, he nearly stumbled across\nthe form of a sleeping woman. The object which emitted the crimson rays\nwas lying on the ground, several yards away from her. It was like a\nsmall jewel, throwing off sparks of red light. He barely threw a glance\nat that, however.\n\nThe woman was clothed in the large skin of an animal. She had big,\nsmooth, shapely limbs, rather muscular than fat. Her magn was not a thin\ntentacle, but a third arm, terminating in a hand. Her face, which was\nupturned, was wild, powerful, and exceedingly handsome. But he saw with\nsurprise that in place of a breve on her forehead, she possessed another\neye. All three were closed. The colour of her skin in the crimson glow\nhe could not distinguish.\n\nHe touched her gently with his hand. She awoke calmly and looked up at\nhim without stirring a muscle. All three eyes stared at him; but the two\nlower ones were dull and vacant--mere carriers of vision. The middle,\nupper one alone expressed her inner nature. Its haughty, unflinching\nglare had yet something seductive and alluring in it. Maskull felt\na challenge in that look of lordly, feminine will, and his manner\ninstinctively stiffened.\n\nShe sat up.\n\n\"Can you speak my language?\" he asked. \"I wouldn\'t put such a question,\nbut others have been able to.\"\n\n\"Why should you imagine that I can\'t read your mind? Is it so extremely\ncomplex?\"\n\nShe spoke in a rich, lingering, musical voice, which delighted him to\nlisten to.\n\n\"No, but you have no breve.\"\n\n\"Well, but haven\'t I a sorb, which is better?\" And she pointed to the\neye on her brow.\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\n\"Oceaxe.\"\n\n\"And where do you come from?\"\n\n\"Ifdawn.\"\n\nThese contemptuous replies began to irritate him, and yet the mere sound\nof her voice was fascinating.\n\n\"I am going there tomorrow,\" he remarked.\n\nShe laughed, as if against her will, but made no comment.\n\n\"My name is Maskull,\" he went on. \"I am a stranger--from another world.\"\n\n\"So I should judge, from your absurd appearance.\"\n\n\"Perhaps it would be as well to say at once,\" said Maskull bluntly, \"are\nwe, or are we not, to be friends?\"\n\nShe yawned and stretched her arms, without rising. \"Why should we be\nfriends? If I thought you were a man, I might accept you as a lover.\"\n\n\"You must look elsewhere for that.\"\n\n\"So be it, Maskull! Now go away, and leave me in peace.\"\n\nShe dropped her head again to the ground, but did not at once close her\neyes.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" he interrogated.\n\n\"Oh, we Ifdawn folk occasionally come here to sleep, for there often\nenough it is a night for us which has no next morning.\"\n\n\"Being such a terrible place, and seeing that I am a total stranger, it\nwould be merely courteous if you were to warn me what I have to expect\nin the way of dangers.\"\n\n\"I am perfectly and utterly indifferent to what becomes of you,\"\nretorted Oceaxe.\n\n\"Are you returning in the morning?\" persisted Maskull.\n\n\"If I wish.\"\n\n\"Then we will go together.\"\n\nShe got up again on her elbow. \"Instead of making plans for other\npeople, I would do a very necessary thing.\"\n\n\"Pray, tell me.\"\n\n\"Well, there\'s no reason why I should, but I will. I would try to\nconvert my women\'s organs into men\'s organs. It is a man\'s country.\"\n\n\"Speak more plainly.\"\n\n\"Oh, it\'s plain enough. If you attempt to pass through Ifdawn without a\nsorb, you are simply committing suicide. And that magn too is worse than\nuseless.\"\n\n\"You probably know what you are talking about, Oceaxe. But what do you\nadvise me to do?\"\n\nShe negligently pointed to the light-emitting stone lying on the ground.\n\n\"There is the solution. If you hold that drude to your organs for a good\nwhile, perhaps it will start the change, and perhaps nature will do the\nrest during the night. I promise nothing.\"\n\nOceaxe now really turned her back on Maskull.\n\nHe considered for a few minutes, and then walked over and to where the\nstone was lying, and took it in his hand. It was a pebble the size of a\nhen\'s egg, radiant with crimson light, as though red-hot, and throwing\nout a continuous shower of small, blood-red sparks.\n\nFinally deciding that Oceaxe\'s advice was good, he applied the drude\nfirst to his magn, and then to his breve. He experienced a cauterising\nsensation--a feeling of healing pain.\n\n\n\nChapter 9. OCEAXE\n\nMaskull\'s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already above\nthe horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs had\nchanged during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelike\nsorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springing\nfrom the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physical\nsecurity, but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before he\ncould grasp its function.\n\nAs he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of\nhis three eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served his\nunderstanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lower\neyes he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; with\nthe sorb he saw nothing as self-existent--everything appeared as an\nobject of importance or non-importance to his own needs.\n\nRather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked about\nhim. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if\nshe were still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up his\nmind to bathe in the river.\n\nIt was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare,\nbut its heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through\nthe trees. A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked like\nanimals, and were always changing shape. The ground, as well as the\nleaves and branches of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dew\nor rain during the night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered his\nnostrils. His pain was quiescent, and his spirits were high.\n\nBefore he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In the\nmorning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they were\nfrom five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellated\nline seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him were\ncomposed of gaudy rocks--vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and black.\nAs he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy drum,\nand he thrilled all over--indescribable hopes, aspirations, and emotions\ncame over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which he\nfelt--it was something different....\n\nHe bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolled\nindolently up.\n\nHe could now perceive the colour of her skin--it was a vivid, yet\ndelicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was\nstartlingly unearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuine\nrepresentative of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curious\nabout it. The curves were womanly, the bones were characteristically\nfemale--yet all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlying\nwill. The commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainer\nlanguage. Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sex\nand softness.\n\nShe came to the river\'s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. \"Now you\nare built more like a man,\" she said, in her lovely, lingering voice.\n\n\"You see, the experiment was successful,\" he answered, smiling gaily.\n\nOceaxe continued looking him over. \"Did some woman give you that\nridiculous robe?\"\n\n\"A woman did give it to me\"--dropping his smile--\"but I saw nothing\nridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don\'t now.\"\n\n\"I think I\'d look better in it.\"\n\nAs she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suited\nher form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed,\nrather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was\nin fact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress.\nOceaxe in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him.\n\n\"I don\'t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,\" she\nremarked slowly.\n\n\"Why not? What can I be to you?\"\n\n\"I have been thinking about you during the night.\" Her voice was\nretarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallen\ntree, and looked away.\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\nShe returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces of\nthe bark.\n\n\"Last night you were so contemptuous.\"\n\n\"Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with your\nhead over your shoulder?\"\n\nIt was now Maskull\'s turn to be silent.\n\n\"Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can\'t go\non resisting me forever.\"\n\n\"But this is preposterous,\" said Maskull, opening his eyes wide. \"Granted\nthat you are a beautiful woman--we can\'t be quite so primeval.\"\n\nOceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. \"It doesn\'t matter. I can wait.\"\n\n\"From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my society.\nI have no objection--in fact I shall be glad--but only on condition that\nyou drop this language.\"\n\n\"Yet you do think me beautiful?\"\n\n\"Why shouldn\'t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see what that\nhas to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will find\nplenty of men to admire--and love you.\"\n\nAt that she blazed up. \"Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you\nimagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is not\nCrimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?\"\n\n\"Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry the\ntemptation no farther--for it is a temptation, where a lovely woman is\nconcerned. I am not my own master.\"\n\n\"I\'m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you humiliate\nme so?\"\n\nMaskull put his hands behind his back. \"I repeat, I am not my own\nmaster.\"\n\n\"Then who is your master?\"\n\n\"Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.\"\n\n\"Did you speak with him?\" she asked curiously.\n\n\"I did.\"\n\n\"Tell me what he said.\"\n\n\"No, I can\'t--I won\'t. But whatever he said, his beauty was more\ntormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that\'s why I can look at you in cold\nblood.\"\n\n\"Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?\"\n\nMaskull frowned. \"Is love such a manly sport, then? I should have\nthought it effeminate.\"\n\n\"It doesn\'t matter. You won\'t always be so boyish. But don\'t try my\npatience too far.\"\n\n\"Let us talk about something else--and, above all, let us get on our\nroad.\"\n\nShe suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he\ngrew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. \"Oh,\nMaskull, Maskull--what a fool you are!\"\n\n\"In what way am I a fool?\" he demanded, scowling not at her words, but\nat his own weakness.\n\n\"Isn\'t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of lovers? And\nyet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away from nature,\nbut where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?\"\n\n\"Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: persistence.\"\n\n\"Read me well, and then it is natural law that you\'ll think twice and\nthree times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, we had\nbetter eat.\"\n\n\"Eat?\" said Maskull thoughtfully.\n\n\"Don\'t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?\"\n\n\"What food is it?\"\n\n\"Fish from the river.\"\n\nMaskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felt\nhungry.\n\n\"Is there nothing milder?\"\n\nShe pulled her mouth scornfully. \"You came through Poolingdred, didn\'t\nyou? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be looked\nat, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have to\nchange your notions.\"\n\n\"Go catch your fish,\" he returned, pulling down his brows.\n\nThe broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations,\nfrom the direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank,\nand peered into the depths. Presently her look became tense and\nconcentrated; she dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of little\nmonster. It was more like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly plates\nand teeth. She threw it on the ground, and it started crawling about.\nSuddenly she darted all her will into her sorb. The creature leaped into\nthe air, and fell down dead.\n\nShe picked up a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales and\nentrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stained\nwith the light scarlet blood.\n\n\"Find the drude, Maskull,\" she said, with a lazy smile. \"You had it last\nnight.\"\n\nHe searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dull\nand feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it in\nthe interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground.\n\n\"While it\'s cooking, I\'ll wash some of this blood away, which frightens\nyou so much. Have you never seen blood before?\"\n\nMaskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back--the\ncontrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful,\nmasculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with the\nfascinating and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea\nflashed into his mind.\n\n\"In your country I\'m told there is an act of will called \'absorbing.\'\nWhat is that?\"\n\nShe held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered a\ndelicious, clashing laugh. \"You think I am half a man?\"\n\n\"Answer my question.\"\n\n\"I\'m a woman through and through, Maskull--to the marrowbone. But that\'s\nnot to say I have never absorbed males.\"\n\n\"And that means...\"\n\n\"New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a stormier\nheart...\"\n\n\"For you, yes--But for them?...\"\n\n\"I don\'t know. The victims don\'t describe their experiences. Probably\nunhappiness of some sort--if they still know anything.\"\n\n\"This is a fearful business!\" he exclaimed, regarding her gloomily. \"One\nwould think Ifdawn a land of devils.\"\n\nOceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river.\n\"Better men than you--better in every sense of the word--are walking\nabout with foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like,\nMaskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simple\nnatures were made to be absorbed.\"\n\n\"And human rights count for nothing!\"\n\nShe had bent over the river\'s edge, to wash her arms and hands, but\nglanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. \"They do count. But\nwe only regard a man as human for just as long as he\'s able to hold his\nown with others.\"\n\nThe flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast\nheavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion.\nWhether it was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long\nabstention, he did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even\ncannibalistic. He ate little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled.\n\n\"Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,\" said\nOceaxe. \"On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull with me,\nto shock.... Now we have to take to the river.\"\n\nThey stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a\nsluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had\nthe contrary effect--it caused them to exert themselves, and they\nmoved faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The\nexercise gradually improved the circulation of Maskull\'s blood, and\nhe began to look at things in a far more way. The hot sunshine, the\ndiminished wind, the cheerful marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet,\ncrystal forests--all was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer\nand nearer to the gaily painted heights of Ifdawn.\n\nThere was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was\nattracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the\nsame time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost,\npainted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings\nproduced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull\'s\nimpressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices.\n\nHe broke the long silence. \"Those mountains have most extraordinary\nshapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular--no slopes or\ncurves.\"\n\nShe walked backward on the water, in order to face him. \"That\'s\ntypical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and\ngradual.\"\n\n\"I hear you, but I don\'t understand you.\"\n\n\"All over the Marest you\'ll find patches of ground plunging down or\nrushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don\'t think twice before\nacting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.\"\n\nMaskull was impressed. \"A fresh, wild, primitive land.\"\n\n\"How is it where you come from?\" asked Oceaxe.\n\n\"Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years\nto move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks.\nOriginality is a lost habit.\"\n\n\"Are there women there?\"\n\n\"As with you, and not very differently formed.\"\n\n\"Do they love?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, and\nthoughts of the whole sex.\"\n\n\"Probably they are more beautiful than I?\"\n\n\"No, I think not,\" said Maskull.\n\nThere was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadily\nonward.\n\n\"What is your business in Ifdawn?\" demanded Oceaxe suddenly.\n\nHe hesitated over his answer. \"Can you grasp that it\'s possible to have\nan aim right in front of one, so big that one can\'t see it as a whole?\"\n\nShe stole a long, inquisitive look at him, \"What sort of aim?\"\n\n\"A moral aim.\"\n\n\"Are you proposing to set the world right?\"\n\n\"I propose nothing--I am waiting.\"\n\n\"Don\'t wait too long, for time doesn\'t wait--especially in Ifdawn.\"\n\n\"Something will happen,\" said Maskull.\n\nOceaxe threw a subtle smile. \"So you have no special destination in the\nMarest?\"\n\n\"No, and if you\'ll permit me, I will come home with you.\"\n\n\"Singular man!\" she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. \"That\'s what I\nhave been offering all the time. Of course you will come home with me.\nAs for Crimtyphon...\"\n\n\"You mentioned that name before. Who is he?\"\n\n\"Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.\"\n\n\"This doesn\'t improve matters,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove him.\"\n\n\"We are certainly misunderstanding each other,\" said Maskull, quite\nstartled. \"Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a compact with\nyou?\"\n\n\"You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to come\nhome with me.\"\n\n\"Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?\"\n\n\"Either you or I must kill him.\"\n\nHe eyed her for a full minute. \"Now we are passing from folly to\ninsanity.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" replied Oceaxe. \"It is the too-sad truth. And when you\nhave seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.\"\n\n\"I\'m aware I am on a strange planet,\" said Maskull slowly, \"where\nall sorts of unheard of things may happen, and where the very laws of\nmorality may be different. Still as far as I am concerned, murder is\nmurder, and I\'ll have no more to do with a woman who wants to make use\nof me, to get rid of her husband.\"\n\n\"You think me wicked?\" demanded Oceaxe steadily.\n\n\"Or mad.\"\n\n\"Then you had better leave me, Maskull--only--\"\n\n\"Only what?\"\n\n\"You wish to be consistent, don\'t you? Leave all other mad and wicked\npeople as well. Then you\'ll find it easier to reform the rest.\"\n\nMaskull frowned, but said nothing.\n\n\"Well?\" demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile.\n\n\"I\'ll come with you, and I\'ll see Crimtyphon--if only to warn him.\"\n\nOceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether at\nthe image conjured up by Maskull\'s last words, or from some other cause,\nhe did not know. The conversation dropped.\n\nAt a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, the\nriver made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer of\nuse to them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully.\n\n\"It\'s a stiff climb for a hot morning.\"\n\n\"Let\'s rest here a little,\" said she, indicating a smooth flat island\nof black rock, standing up just out of the water in the middle of the\nriver.\n\nThey accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however,\nstanding graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite,\nand uttered a piercing and peculiar call.\n\n\"What is that for?\" She did not answer. After waiting a minute, she\nrepeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself from the\ntop of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. It was\nfollowed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly slow\nand clumsy.\n\n\"What are they?\" he asked.\n\nShe still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat down\nbeside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapes\nand colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures\nwith long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminating\nin fins which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legs\nand fins were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhat\nominous fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thin\nspike projecting from each of the heads.\n\n\"They are shrowks,\" explained Oceaxe at last. \"If you want to know\ntheir intention, I\'ll tell you. To make a meal of us. First of all their\nspikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are really suckers,\nwill drain us dry of blood--pretty thoroughly too; there are no half\nmeasures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don\'t eat flesh.\"\n\n\"As you show such admirable sangfroid,\" said Maskull dryly, \"I take it\nthere\'s no particular danger.\"\n\nNevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. A\nnew form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground.\n\n\"Are you trying to get up?\" asked Oceaxe smoothly.\n\n\"Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to the\nrock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in view\nin waking them up?\"\n\n\"I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking\nand asking questions, you had much better see what you can do with your\nwill.\"\n\n\"I seem to have no will, unfortunately.\"\n\nOceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich and\nbeautiful. \"It\'s obvious you aren\'t a very heroic protector, Maskull. It\nseems I must play the man, and you the woman. I expected better things\nof your big body. Why, my husband would send those creatures dancing all\naround the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing of them. Now watch\nme.. Two of the three I\'ll kill; the third we will ride home on. Which\none shall we keep?\"\n\nThe shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their\nbodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of\nloathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted\nwith their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift\nmotion.\n\n\"Choose which you please,\" he said shortly. \"They are equally\nobjectionable to me.\"\n\n\"Then I\'ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most energetic\nanimal. Watch now.\"\n\nShe stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt\nsomething snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The\ntwo monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the\nearth, one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and\nthen lie motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied\nthat its flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but\ntame and unwilling.\n\nOceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their\nisland rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure.\nThey immediately crossed the water.\n\nMaskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet\nlong. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery;\na mane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome\nand unnatural, with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and\nblood-sucking cavity. There were true fins on its back and tail.\n\n\"Have you a good seat?\" asked Oceaxe, patting the creature\'s flank. \"As\nI have to steer, let me jump on first.\"\n\nShe pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal\'s\nback, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the\nfin there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his\nouter hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe\'s back, and for\nadditional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it.\n\nDirectly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this\nride had been planned for one purpose only--to inflame his desires.\n\nThe third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had\nbeen ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which\nwas communicated to it was no longer pure and noble--it was boiling,\npassionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but\nOceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his\nfeelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. \"The ride\nwill last some time, so hold on well!\" Her voice was soft like a flute,\nbut rather malicious.\n\nMaskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm.\n\nThe shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose\nslowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward\nthe painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the\ncontact of the brute\'s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, was\nmerely, background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, holding\non to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the\nknowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was\nresponding to his touch like a lovely harp.\n\nThey climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around\nhim. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer\nrampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of\nislands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands\nwere mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a\nhigh tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless\ncracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like\nlakes, in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The\nperpendicular sides of the islands--that is, the upper, visible parts\nof the innumerable cliff faces--were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; but\nthe level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller\ntrees alone were distinguishable from the shrowk\'s back. They were\nof different shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and\nswaying but did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and\nsavage.\n\nAs Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his\npassion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay\nand bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across\nthe sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no\naesthetic sensations--he felt nothing but an intense longing for action\nand possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted to\ndeal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky;\nattraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to\nplay a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the\nscenery had no significance for him.\n\nSo preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe\nturned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what\nshe saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord.\n\n\"Cold again so quickly, Maskull?\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" he asked absently, still looking over the side.\n\"It\'s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.\"\n\n\"You wish to take a hand?\"\n\n\"I wish to get down.\"\n\n\"Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?\"\n\n\"Different from what? What are you talking about?\" said Maskull, still\nlost in abstraction.\n\nOceaxe laughed again. \"It would be strange if we couldn\'t make a man of\nyou, for the material is excellent.\"\n\nAfter that, she turned her back once more.\n\nThe air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were\nnot on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken\nterraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying\nwell above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs\nconfronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to\nenter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel.\nThey were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above\nthirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many\nhundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted\nto plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity.\n\n\"What is at the bottom?\" he asked.\n\n\"Death for you, if you go to look for it.\"\n\n\"We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?\"\n\n\"Not that I have ever heard of,\" said Oceaxe, \"but of course all things\nare possible.\"\n\n\"I think very likely there is life,\" he returned thoughtfully.\n\nHer ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. \"Shall we go down and see?\"\n\n\"You find that amusing?\"\n\n\"No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the\nbeard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.\"\n\nMaskull then laughed too. \"I happen to be the only thing in Tormance\nwhich is not a novelty for me.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I am a novelty for you.\"\n\nThe channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain,\nand all the time they were gradually rising.\n\n\"At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,\" said Maskull,\nwho, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last ready for\nconversation.\n\n\"What\'s the matter with my voice?\"\n\n\"It\'s all that I can distinguish of you now; that\'s why I mentioned it.\"\n\n\"Isn\'t it clear--don\'t I speak distinctly?\"\n\n\"Oh, it\'s clear enough, but--it\'s inappropriate.\"\n\n\"Inappropriate?\"\n\n\"I won\'t explain further,\" said Maskull, \"but whether you are speaking\nor laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest and strangest instrument\nI have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is inappropriate.\"\n\n\"You mean that my nature doesn\'t correspond?\"\n\nHe was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken\noff by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the\ngulf directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder.\n\n\"The ground is rising under us!\" cried Oceaxe.\n\n\"Shall we escape?\"\n\nShe made no answer, but urged the shrowk\'s flight upward, at such a\nsteep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor\nof the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be\nheard, and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip\nin the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall.\nA hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each\nsecond--splitting, hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding,\nroaring. When they had still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top,\na sort of dark, indefinite sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under\ntheir feet, ascending rapidly, with irresistible might, accompanied by\nthe most horrible noises. The canal was filled up for two hundred yards,\nbefore and behind them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be\nraised. The shrowk in its ascent was caught by the uplifted debris.\nBeast and riders experienced in that moment all the horrors of an\nearthquake--they were rolled violently over, and thrown among the rocks\nand dirt. All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion.\n\nBefore they had time to realise their position, they were in the\nsunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the\nvalley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher\nthan the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as\nif by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves\nup and examined themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its\nside, panting violently, and sweating with fright.\n\n\"That was a nasty affair,\" said Maskull, flicking the dirt off his\nperson.\n\nOceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe.\n\n\"It might have been far worse.... I mean, it\'s bad enough to come up,\nbut it\'s death to go down, and that happens just as often.\"\n\n\"Whatever induces you to live in such a country?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought of moving\nout of it.\"\n\n\"A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a\nplace like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to\nanother.\"\n\n\"You will learn by degrees,\" she answered, smiling.\n\nShe looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet.\n\n\"Get on again, Maskull!\" she directed, climbing back to her perch. \"We\nhaven\'t too much time to waste.\"\n\nHe obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the\nmountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his\nthoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into\nhis brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit\nthere in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be\ndoing something.\n\n\"How secretive you are, Maskull!\" said Oceaxe quietly, without turning\nher head.\n\n\"What secrets--what do you mean?\"\n\n\"Oh, I know perfectly well what\'s passing inside you. Now I think it\nwouldn\'t be amiss to ask you--is friendship still enough?\"\n\n\"Oh, don\'t ask me anything,\" growled Maskull. \"I\'ve far too many\nproblems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some of them.\"\n\nHe stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way\ntoward a distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural\nquadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a\nbroad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered.\n\n\"What mountain is that?\" he asked.\n\n\"Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.\"\n\n\"Are we going there?\"\n\n\"Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might be\nworth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land\nas far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone\'s Island--and beyond. You can\nalso see Alppain from it.\"\n\n\"That\'s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.\"\n\n\"Do you, Maskull?\" She turned around and put her hand on his wrist.\n\"Stay with me, and one day we\'ll go to Disscourn together.\"\n\nHe grunted unintelligibly.\n\nThere were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet.\nWhile Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not\nfar ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful\nroar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one\nminute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with\nthe shock. \"This is frightful.\"\n\nOceaxe remained unmoved.\n\n\"Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,\" he went on, when he had\nsomewhat recovered himself. \"A man would need nerves of steel.... Is\nthere no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?\"\n\n\"Oh, I suppose we wouldn\'t be alive if there weren\'t,\" replied Oceaxe,\nwith composure. \"We are more or less clever at it--but that doesn\'t\nprevent our often getting caught.\"\n\n\"You had better teach me the signs.\"\n\n\"We\'ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I expect,\nwill be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first let us\nget home.\"\n\n\"How far is it now?\"\n\n\"It is right in front of you,\" said Oceaxe, pointing with her\nforefinger. \"You can see it.\"\n\nHe followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made\nout the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two\nmiles distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the\nbottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it\nto the mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in\nthe brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle\nof the peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with\nsea-green leaves.\n\n\"I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,\" remarked Oceaxe. \"Can I see two\nfigures, or am I mistaken?\"\n\n\"I also see something,\" said Maskull.\n\nIn twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of\nabout fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on\nthe mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both\ndescended--Maskull with aching thighs.\n\n\"What shall we do with the monster?\" asked Oceaxe. Without waiting for a\nsuggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. \"Fly away home! I\nmay want you some other time.\"\n\nIt gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after\nhalf running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air,\nand paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They\nwatched it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of\nland, followed by Maskull.\n\nBranchspell\'s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The sky\nhad by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. The\nground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses.\nThrough these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil--and\noccasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked\nextraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird\nIfdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen\nfrom a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but\nonly desired to meet human beings--so intense had grown his will. He\nlonged to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else\nseemed of the least importance to him.\n\nOn the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a\nlarge copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of\nsmall trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space--perhaps the\nroots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller\nfry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling\nfountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides,\noverhung with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with\nan air of wild and charming seclusion--a mythological mountain god might\nhave dwelt here.\n\nMaskull\'s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who\nformed the centre of the picture.\n\nOne was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a\ntall couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and\nwas eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums\nlay on the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree\ncompletely sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad\nin a rough skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from\nhis face whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were\nsmooth, soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil;\nbut his violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the\ncolour of yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb--it was\nviolet. The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet\naway from him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded,\nand rather commonplace, but there was something terrible about his\nappearance. The features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain,\ndespair, and horror.\n\nOceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost\nshadows of the tree, some distance from the couch.\n\n\"We have met with an uplift,\" she remarked carelessly, looking toward\nthe youth.\n\nHe eyed her, but said nothing.\n\n\"How is your plant man getting on?\" Her tone was artificial but\nextremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the\nground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down\nthe skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with\ncrossed arms.\n\nThere was silence for a minute.\n\n\"Why don\'t you answer your mistress, Sature?\" said the boy on the couch,\nin a calm, treble voice.\n\nThe man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a\nstrangled tone, \"I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already\nbuds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.\"\n\nMaskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that\nalthough these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by\nthe boy.\n\n\"What he says is quite true,\" remarked the latter. \"Tomorrow roots will\nreach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well established.\nThen I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, and his\nfingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head into\na crown, but still I hope--in fact I can almost promise that within a\nmonth you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from this\nnew and remarkable tree.\"\n\n\"I love these natural experiments,\" he concluded, putting out his hand\nfor another plum. \"They thrill me.\"\n\n\"This must be a joke,\" said Maskull, taking a step forward.\n\nThe youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as\nif he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat.\n\n\"The morning\'s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again after\nBlodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I expect,\nso you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your roots.\nNever forget--however fresh and charming these plants appear to you now,\nin the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. Now you\nmay go.\"\n\nThe man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe\nyawned.\n\nMaskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. \"Are you joking,\nor are you a devil?\"\n\n\"I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will devise\na new punishment for you.\"\n\nThe duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched\nher beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the\nstruggle between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too;\nhe reached out his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull\'s\nself-control broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red\nfury--his beard wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with\nwhom he had to deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the\ncouch, and threw a terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull\nstaggered. He gathered together all the brute force of his will, and by\nsheer weight continued his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the\ncouch, trying to get away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull\nstumbled forward, recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the\nhigh pile of mosses, to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him\nwith all his bulk. Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head\ncompletely around, so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately\ndied.\n\nThe corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull\nviewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder\ncame into his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon\'s face\nhad undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal\ncharacter had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask\nwhich expressed nothing.\n\nHe did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen\nthe brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face\nof the apparition at the seance, after Krag had dealt with it.\n\n\n\nChapter 10. TYDOMIN\n\nOceaxe sat down carelessly on the couch of mosses, and began eating the\nplums.\n\n\"You see, you had to kill him, Maskull,\" she said, in a rather quizzical\nvoice.\n\nHe came away from the corpse and regarded her--still red, and still\nbreathing hard. \"It\'s no joking matter. You especially ought to keep\nquiet.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because he was your husband.\"\n\n\"You think I ought to show grief--when I feel none?\"\n\n\"Don\'t pretend, woman!\"\n\nOceaxe smiled. \"From your manner one would think you were accusing me of\nsome crime.\"\n\nMaskull literally snorted at her words. \"What, you live with filth--you\nlive in the arms of a morbid monstrosity and then--\"\n\n\"Oh, now I grasp it,\" she said, in a tone of perfect detachment.\n\n\"I\'m glad.\"\n\n\"Well, Maskull,\" she proceeded, after a pause, \"and who gave you the\nright to rule my conduct? Am I not mistress of my own person?\"\n\nHe looked at her with disgust, but said nothing. There was another long\ninterval of silence.\n\n\"I never loved him,\" said Oceaxe at last, looking at the ground.\n\n\"That makes it all the worse.\"\n\n\"What does all this mean--what do you want?\"\n\n\"Nothing from you--absolutely nothing--thank heaven!\"\n\nShe gave a hard laugh. \"You come here with your foreign preconceptions\nand expect us all to bow down to them.\"\n\n\"What preconceptions?\"\n\n\"Just because Crimtyphon\'s sports are strange to you, you murder\nhim--and you would like to murder me.\"\n\n\"Sports! That diabolical cruelty.\"\n\n\"Oh, you\'re sentimental!\" said Oceaxe contemptuously. \"Why do you need\nto make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, all the world over, and\none form is as good as another. He was only to be made a tree, like a\nmillion other trees. If they can endure the life, why can\'t he?\"\n\n\"And this is Ifdawn morality!\"\n\nOceaxe began to grow angry. \"It\'s you who have peculiar ideas. You rave\nabout the beauty of flowers and trees--you think them divine. But\nwhen it\'s a question of taking on this divine, fresh, pure, enchanting\nloveliness yourself, in your own person, it immediately becomes a cruel\nand wicked degradation. Here we have a strange riddle, in my opinion.\"\n\n\"Oceaxe, you\'re a beautiful, heartless wild beast--nothing more. If you\nweren\'t a woman--\"\n\n\"Well\"--curling her lip--\"let us hear what would happen if I weren\'t a\nwoman?\"\n\nMaskull bit his nails.\n\n\"It doesn\'t matter. I can\'t touch you--though there\'s certainly not the\ndifference of a hair between you and your boy-husband. For this you may\nthank my \'foreign preconceptions.\'... Farewell!\"\n\nHe turned to go. Oceaxe\'s eyes slanted at him through their long lashes.\n\n\"Where are you off to, Maskull?\"\n\n\"That\'s a matter of no importance, for wherever I go it must be a change\nfor the better. You walking whirlpools of crime!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute. I only want to say this. Blodsombre is just starting,\nand you had better stay here till the afternoon. We can quickly put that\nbody out of sight, and, as you seem to detest me so much, the place is\nbig enough--we needn\'t talk, or even see each other.\"\n\n\"I don\'t wish to breathe the same air.\"\n\n\"Singular man!\" She was sitting erect and motionless, like a beautiful\nstatue. \"And what of your wonderful interview with Surtur, and all the\nundone things which you set out to do?\"\n\n\"You aren\'t the one I shall speak to about that. But\"--he eyed her\nmeditatively--\"while I\'m still here you can tell me this. What\'s the\nmeaning of the expression on that corpse\'s face?\"\n\n\"Is that another crime, Maskull? All dead people look like that. Ought\nthey not to?\"\n\n\"I once heard it called \'Crystalman\'s face.\'\"\n\n\"Why not? We are all daughters and sons of Crystalman. It is doubtless\nthe family resemblance.\"\n\n\"It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the\nsame.\"\n\n\"You have wise and truthful acquaintances.\"\n\n\"Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?\" said Maskull, more to\nhimself than to her. \"That apparition was something quite different.\"\n\nShe dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him,\ngently pulled his arm.\n\n\"You see--we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your\nquestions. I\'m not excessively smart, but I\'ll try to be of assistance.\"\n\nMaskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She\nbent toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet,\ncool, feminine breath should fan his cheek.\n\n\"Aren\'t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then what does\nit matter who sent you?\"\n\n\"What can you possibly know of good and evil?\"\n\n\"Are you only instructing the initiated?\"\n\n\"Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you\'re quite right. I wish to\ndo what I can--not because I am qualified, but because I am here.\"\n\nOceaxe\'s voice dropped to a whisper. \"You\'re a giant, both in body and\nsoul. What you want to do, you can do.\"\n\n\"Is that your honest opinion, or are you flattering me for your own\nends?\"\n\nShe sighed. \"Don\'t you see how difficult you are making the\nconversation? Let\'s talk about your work, not about ourselves.\"\n\nMaskull suddenly noticed a strange blue light glowing in the northern\nsky. It was from Alppain, but Alppain itself was behind the hills. While\nhe was observing it, a peculiar wave of self-denial, of a disquieting\nnature, passed through him. He looked at Oceaxe, and it struck him for\nthe first time that he was being unnecessarily brutal to her. He had\nforgotten that she was a woman, and defenceless.\n\n\"Won\'t you stay?\" she asked all of a sudden, quite openly and frankly.\n\n\"Yes, I think I\'ll stay,\" he replied slowly. \"And another thing,\nOceaxe--if I\'ve misjudged your character, pray forgive me. I\'m a hasty,\npassionate man.\"\n\n\"There are enough easygoing men. Hard knocks are a good medicine for\nvicious hearts. And you didn\'t misjudge my character, as far as you\nwent--only, every woman has more than one character. Don\'t you know\nthat?\"\n\nDuring the pause that followed, a snapping of twigs was heard, and both\nlooked around, startled. They saw a woman stepping slowly across the\nneck that separated them from the mainland.\n\n\"Tydomin,\" muttered Oceaxe, in a vexed, frightened voice. She\nimmediately moved away from Maskull and stood up.\n\nThe newcomer was of middle height, very slight and graceful. She was no\nlonger quite young. Her face wore the composure of a woman who knows\nher way about the world. It was intensely pale, and under its quiescence\nthere just was a glimpse of something strange and dangerous. It\nwas curiously alluring, though not exactly beautiful. Her hair was\nclustering and boyish, reaching only to the neck. It was of a strange\nindigo colour. She was quaintly attired in a tunic and breeches, pieced\ntogether from the square, blue-green plates of some reptile. Her small,\nivory-white breasts were exposed. Her sorb was black and sad--rather\ncontemplative.\n\nWithout once glancing up at Oceaxe and Maskull, she quietly glided\nstraight toward Crimtyphon\'s corpse. When she arrived within a few feet\nof it, she stopped and looked down, with arms folded.\n\nOceaxe drew Maskull a little away, and whispered, \"It\'s Crimtyphon\'s\nother wife, who lives under Disscourn. She\'s a most dangerous woman.\nBe careful what you say. If she asks you to do anything, refuse it\noutright.\"\n\n\"The poor soul looks harmless enough.\"\n\n\"Yes, she does--but the poor soul is quite capable of swallowing up Krag\nhimself.... Now, play the man.\"\n\nThe murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin\'s notice, for she\nnow slowly turned her eyes toward them.\n\n\"Who killed him?\" she demanded.\n\nHer voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able\nto catch the words. The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and\ncuriously enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter.\n\nOceaxe whispered, \"Don\'t say a word, leave it all to me.\" Then she swung\nher body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, \"I killed\nhim.\"\n\nTydomin\'s words by this time were ringing in Maskull\'s head like an\nactual physical sound. There was no question of being able to ignore\nthem; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the\nconsequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting\nher behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, \"It was\nI that killed Crimtyphon.\"\n\nOceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. \"Maskull says that so as to\nshield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him,\nTydomin.\"\n\n\"I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own strength,\nfor you brought this man along for the purpose.\"\n\nMaskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. \"It\'s of little\nconsequence who killed him, for he\'s better dead than alive, in my\nopinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.\"\n\nTydomin appeared not to hear him--she looked beyond him at Oceaxe\nmusingly. \"When you murdered him, didn\'t it occur to you that I would\ncome here, to find out?\"\n\n\"I never once thought of you,\" replied Oceaxe, with an angry laugh. \"Do\nyou really imagine that I carry your image with me wherever I go?\"\n\n\"If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?\"\n\n\"Lying hypocrite!\" Oceaxe spat out. \"You never were in love with\nCrimtyphon. You always hated me, and now you think it an excellent\nopportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon\'s gone.... For we\nboth know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had asked him. He\nworshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly.\"\n\nTydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. \"Is it necessary for\nyou to listen to all this?\"\n\nWithout question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away\nout of earshot.\n\nTydomin approached Oceaxe. \"Perhaps because my beauty fades and I\'m no\nlonger young, I needed him all the more.\"\n\nOceaxe gave a kind of snarl. \"Well, he\'s dead, and that\'s the end of it.\nWhat are you going to do now, Tydomin?\"\n\nThe other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically. \"There\'s\nnothing left to do, except mourn the dead. You won\'t grudge me that last\noffice?\"\n\n\"Do you want to stay here?\" demanded Oceaxe suspiciously.\n\n\"Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.\"\n\n\"Then what is to become of us?\"\n\n\"I thought that you and your lover--what is his name?\"\n\n\"Maskull.\"\n\n\"I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend\nBlodsombre at my home.\"\n\nOceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, \"Will you come with me now to\nDisscourn?\"\n\n\"If you wish,\" returned Maskull.\n\n\"Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon\'s death.\nI won\'t keep him.\"\n\n\"Why don\'t you question me, rather?\" demanded Oceaxe, looking up\nsharply.\n\nTydomin gave the shadow of a smile. \"We know each other too well.\"\n\n\"Play no tricks!\" said Oceaxe, and she turned to go.\n\n\"Surely you must be dreaming,\" said Tydomin. \"That\'s the way--unless you\nwant to walk over the cliffside.\"\n\nThe path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus. The direction which\nTydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty\nspace.\n\n\"Shaping! I must be mad,\" cried Oceaxe, with a laugh. And she obediently\nfollowed the other\'s finger.\n\nShe walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces\naway. Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing.\nTydomin remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her.\nWithout hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled\non--and when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took\none more step.\n\nMaskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge. Her body\ndisappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded.\n\nDisillusionment had come to her an instant too late. He tore himself\nout of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the\nground recklessly, and looked over.... Oceaxe had vanished.\n\nHe continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to\nsob. Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet.\n\nThe blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again. It was some\ntime before he could speak at all. Then he brought out the words with\ndifficulty. \"You shall pay for this, Tydomin. But first I want to hear\nwhy you did it.\"\n\n\"Hadn\'t I cause?\" she asked, standing with downcast eyes.\n\n\"Was it pure fiendishness?\"\n\n\"It was for Crimtyphon\'s sake.\"\n\n\"She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so.\"\n\n\"You are loyal to her, and I\'m loyal to him.\"\n\n\"Loyal? You\'ve made a terrible blunder. She wasn\'t my mistress. I killed\nCrimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely no part in it.\"\n\n\"Wasn\'t she your lover?\" asked Tydomin slowly.\n\n\"You\'ve made a terrible mistake,\" repeated Maskull. \"I killed him\nbecause he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of his death as you\nare.\"\n\nTydomin\'s face took on a hard look. \"So you are guilty of two deaths.\"\n\nThere was a dreadful silence.\n\n\"Why couldn\'t you believe me?\" asked Maskull, who was pale and sweating\npainfully.\n\n\"Who gave you the right to kill him?\" demanded Tydomin sternly.\n\nHe said nothing, and perhaps did not hear her question.\n\nShe sighed two or three times and began to stir restlessly. \"Since you\nmurdered him, you must help me bury him.\"\n\n\"What\'s to be done? This is a most fearful crime.\"\n\n\"You art a most fearful man. Why did you come here, to do all this? What\nare we to you?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately you are right.\"\n\nAnother pause ensued.\n\n\"It\'s no use standing here,\" said Tydomin. \"Nothing can be done. You\nmust come with me.\"\n\n\"Come with you? Where to?\"\n\n\"To Disscourn. There\'s a burning lake on the far side of it. He always\nwished to be cast there after death. We can do that after Blodsombre--in\nthe meantime we must take him home.\"\n\n\"You\'re a callous, heartless woman. Why should he be buried when that\npoor girl must remain unburied?\"\n\n\"You know that\'s out of the question,\" replied Tydomin quietly.\n\nMaskull\'s eyes roamed about agitatedly, apparently seeing nothing.\n\n\"We must do something,\" she continued. \"I shall go. You can\'t wish to\nstay here alone?\"\n\n\"No, I couldn\'t stay here--and why should I want to? You want me to\ncarry the corpse?\"\n\n\"He can\'t carry himself, and you murdered him. Perhaps it will ease your\nmind to carry it.\"\n\n\"Ease my mind?\" said Maskull, rather stupidly.\n\n\"There\'s only one relief for remorse, and that\'s voluntary pain.\"\n\n\"And have you no remorse?\" he asked, fixing her with a heavy eye.\n\n\"These crimes are yours, Maskull,\" she said in a low but incisive voice.\n\nThey walked over to Crimtyphon\'s body, and Maskull hoisted it on to his\nshoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not offer\nto assist him to adjust the ghastly burden.\n\nShe crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through\nsunshine and shadow. Branchspell was blazing in a cloudless sky, the\nheat was insufferable--streams of sweat coursed down his face, and the\ncorpse seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Tydomin always walked in\nfront of him. His eyes were fastened in an unseeing stare on her white,\nwomanish calves; he looked neither to right nor left. His features grew\nsullen. At the end of ten minutes he suddenly allowed his burden to slip\noff his shoulders on to the ground, where it lay sprawled every which\nway. He called out to Tydomin.\n\nShe quickly looked around.\n\n\"Come here. It has just occurred to me\"--he laughed--\"why should I be\ncarrying this corpse--and why should I be following you at all? What\nsurprises me is, why this has never struck me before.\"\n\nShe at once came back to him. \"I suppose you\'re tired, Maskull. Let us\nsit down. Perhaps you have come a long way this morning?\"\n\n\"Oh, it\'s not tiredness, but a sudden gleam of sense. Do you know of\nany reason why I should be acting as your porter?\" He laughed again, but\nnevertheless sat down on the ground beside her.\n\nTydomin neither looked at him nor answered. Her head was half bent, so\nas to face the northern sky, where the Alppain light was still glowing.\nMaskull followed her gaze, and also watched the glow for a moment or two\nin silence.\n\n\"Why don\'t you speak?\" he asked at last.\n\n\"What does that light suggest to you, Maskull?\"\n\n\"I\'m not speaking of that light.\"\n\n\"Doesn\'t it suggest anything at all?\"\n\n\"Perhaps it doesn\'t. What does it matter?\"\n\n\"Not sacrifice?\"\n\nMaskull grew sullen again. \"Sacrifice of what? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Hasn\'t it entered your head yet,\" said Tydomin, looking straight in\nfront of her, and speaking in her delicate, hard manner, \"that this\nadventure of yours will scarcely come to an end until you have made some\nsort of sacrifice?\"\n\nHe returned no answer, and she said nothing more. In a few minutes\' time\nMaskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost angrily,\nthrew Crimtyphon\'s corpse over his shoulder again.\n\n\"How far do we have to go?\" he asked in a surly tone.\n\n\"An hour\'s walk.\"\n\n\"Lead on.\"\n\n\"Still, this isn\'t the sacrifice I mean,\" said Tydomin quietly, as she\nwent on in front.\n\nAlmost immediately they reached more difficult ground. They had to pass\nfrom peak to peak, as from island to island. In some cases they were\nable to stride or jump across, but in others they had to make use of\nrude bridges of fallen timber. It appeared to be a frequented path.\nUnderneath were the black, impenetrable abysses--on the surface were the\nglaring sunshine, the gay, painted rocks, the chaotic tangle of strange\nplants. There were countless reptiles and insects. The latter were\nthicker built than those of Earth--consequently still more disgusting,\nand some of them were of enormous size. One monstrous insect, as large\nas a horse, stood right in the centre of their path without budging. It\nwas armour-plated, had jaws like scimitars, and underneath its body was\na forest of legs. Tydomin gave one malignant look at it, and sent it\ncrashing into the gulf.\n\n\"What have I to offer, except my life?\" Maskull suddenly broke out. \"And\nwhat good is that? It won\'t bring that poor girl back into the world.\"\n\n\"Sacrifice is not for utility. It\'s a penalty which we pay.\"\n\n\"I know that.\"\n\n\"The point is whether you can go on enjoying life, after what has\nhappened.\"\n\nShe waited for Maskull to come even with her.\n\n\"Perhaps you imagine I\'m not man enough--you imagine that because I\nallowed poor Oceaxe to die for me--\"\n\n\"She did die for you,\" said Tydomin, in a quiet, emphatic voice.\n\n\"That would be a second blunder of yours,\" returned Maskull, just as\nfirmly. \"I was not in love with Oceaxe, and I\'m not in love with life.\"\n\n\"Your life is not required.\"\n\n\"Then I don\'t understand what you want, or what you are speaking about.\"\n\n\"It\'s not for me to ask a sacrifice from you, Maskull. That would be\ncompliance on your part, but not sacrifice. You must wait until you feel\nthere\'s nothing else for you to do.\"\n\n\"It\'s all very mysterious.\"\n\nThe conversation was abruptly cut short by a prolonged and frightful\ncrashing, roaring sound, coming from a short distance ahead. It was\naccompanied by a violent oscillation of the ground on which they\nstood. They looked up, startled, just in time to witness the final\ndisappearance of a huge mass of forest land, not two hundred yards in\nfront of them. Several acres of trees, plants, rocks, and soil, with all\nits teeming animal life, vanished before their eyes, like a magic story.\nThe new chasm was cut, as if by a knife. Beyond its farther edge the\nAlppain glow burned blue just over the horizon.\n\n\"Now we shall have to make a detour,\" said Tydomin, halting.\n\nMaskull caught hold of her with his third hand. \"Listen to me, while I\ntry to describe what I\'m feeling. When I saw that landslip, everything I\nhave heard about the last destruction of the world came into my mind.\nIt seemed to me as if I were actually witnessing it, and that the world\nwere really falling to pieces. Then, where the land was, we now have\nthis empty, awful gulf--that\'s to say, nothing--and it seems to me as\nif our life will come to the same condition, where there was something\nthere will be nothing. But that terrible blue glare on the opposite side\nis exactly like the eye of fate. It accuses us, and demands what we have\nmade of our life, which is no more. At the same time, it is grand and\njoyful. The joy consists in this--that it is in our power to give freely\nwhat will later on be taken from us by force.\"\n\nTydomin watched him attentively. \"Then your feeling is that your life is\nworthless, and you make a present of it to the first one who asks?\"\n\n\"No, it goes beyond that. I feel that the only thing worth living for\nis to be so magnanimous that fate itself will be astonished at us.\nUnderstand me. It isn\'t cynicism, or bitterness, or despair, but\nheroism.... It\'s hard to explain.\"\n\n\"Now you shall hear what sacrifice I offer you, Maskull. It\'s a heavy\none, but that\'s what you seem to wish.\"\n\n\"That is so. In my present mood it can\'t be too heavy.\"\n\n\"Then, if you are in earnest, resign your body to me. Now that\nCrimtyphon\'s dead, I\'m tired of being a woman.\"\n\n\"I fail to comprehend.\"\n\n\"Listen, then. I wish to start a new existence in your body. I wish to\nbe a male. I see it isn\'t worth while being a woman. I mean to dedicate\nmy own body to Crimtyphon. I shall tie his body and mine together, and\ngive them a common funeral in the burning lake. That\'s the sacrifice I\noffer you. As I said, it\'s a hard one.\"\n\n\"So you do ask me to die. Though how you can make use of my body is\ndifficult to understand.\"\n\n\"No, I don\'t ask you to die. You will go on living.\"\n\n\"How is it possible without a body?\"\n\nTydomin gazed at him earnestly. \"There are many such beings, even in\nyour world. There you call them spirits, apparitions, phantoms. They are\nin reality living wills, deprived of material bodies, always longing to\nact and enjoy, but quite unable to do so. Are you noble-minded enough to\naccept such a state, do you think?\"\n\n\"If it\'s possible, I accept it,\" replied Maskull quietly. \"Not in spite\nof its heaviness, but because of it. But how is it possible?\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly there are very many things possible in our world of which\nyou have no conception. Now let us wait till we get home. I don\'t hold\nyou to your word, for unless it\'s a free sacrifice I will have nothing\nto do with it.\"\n\n\"I am not a man who speaks lightly. If you can perform this miracle, you\nhave my consent, once for all.\"\n\n\"Then we\'ll leave it like that for the present,\" said Tydomin sadly.\n\nThey proceeded on their way. Owing to the subsidence, Tydomin seemed\nrather doubtful at first as to the right road, but by making a long\ndivergence they eventually got around to the other side of the newly\nformed chasm. A little later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature,\ninsulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against\na tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His\nbeardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in\nother respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual\ntype. His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a\nsorb nor a third arm--so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn.\nHis forehead, however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard\nassortment of eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes.\nThey went in pairs, and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by\na peculiar shining--the rest remained dull, until their turn came. In\naddition to the upper eyes he had the two lower ones, but they were\nvacant and lifeless. This extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively\nalive and dead, gave the young man an appearance of almost alarming\nmental activity. He was wearing nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull\nseemed somehow to recognise the face, though he had certainly never set\neyes on it before.\n\nTydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to\nrest in the shade.\n\n\"Question him, Maskull,\" she said, rather carelessly, jerking her head\ntoward the stranger.\n\nMaskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, \"What\'s\nyour name, and where do you come from?\"\n\nThe man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes,\nthen with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to\nTydomin, who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in\na dry, manly, nervous voice. \"I am Digrung. I have arrived here from\nMatterplay.\" His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of\nwhom he reminded him. It was of Joiwind.\n\n\"Perhaps you\'re going to Poolingdred, Digrung?\" he inquired, interested.\n\n\"As a matter of fact I am--if I can find my way out of this accursed\ncountry.\"\n\n\"Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?\"\n\n\"She\'s my sister. I\'m on my way to see her now. Why, do you know her?\"\n\n\"I met her yesterday.\"\n\n\"What is your name, then?\"\n\n\"Maskull.\"\n\n\"I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four\nyears. Is she well, and happy?\"\n\n\"Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?\"\n\n\"Her husband--yes. But where do you come from? I\'ve seen nothing like\nyou before.\"\n\n\"From another world. Where is Matterplay?\"\n\n\"It\'s the first country one comes to beyond the Sinking Sea.\"\n\n\"What is it like there--how do you amuse yourselves? The same old\nmurders and sudden deaths?\"\n\n\"Are you ill?\" asked Digrung. \"Who is this woman, why are you following\nat her heels like a slave? She looks insane to me. What\'s that\ncorpse--why are you dragging it around the country with you?\"\n\nTydomin smiled. \"I\'ve already heard it said about Matterplay, that if\none sows an answer there, a rich crop of questions immediately springs\nup. But why do you make this unprovoked attack on me, Digrung?\"\n\n\"I don\'t attack you, woman, but I know you. I see into you, and I\nsee insanity. That wouldn\'t matter, but I don\'t like to see a man of\nintelligence like Maskull caught in your filthy meshes.\"\n\n\"I suppose even you clever Matterplay people sometimes misjudge\ncharacter. However, I don\'t mind. Your opinion\'s nothing to me, Digrung.\nYou\'d better answer his questions, Maskull. Not for his own sake--but\nyour feminine friend is sure to be curious about your having been seen\ncarrying a dead man.\"\n\nMaskull\'s underlip shot out. \"Tell your sister nothing, Digrung. Don\'t\nmention my name at all. I don\'t want her to know about this meeting of\nours.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I don\'t wish it--isn\'t that enough?\"\n\nDigrung looked impassive.\n\n\"Thoughts and words,\" he said, \"which don\'t correspond with the real\nevents of the world are considered most shameful in Matterplay.\"\n\n\"I\'m not asking you to lie, only to keep silent.\"\n\n\"To hide the truth is a special branch of lying. I can\'t accede to your\nwish. I must tell Joiwind everything, as far as I know it.\"\n\nMaskull got up, and Tydomin followed his example.\n\nShe touched Digrung on the arm and gave him a strange look. \"The dead\nman is my husband, and Maskull murdered him. Now you\'ll understand why\nhe wishes you to hold your tongue.\"\n\n\"I guessed there was some foul play,\" said Digrung. \"It doesn\'t\nmatter--I can\'t falsify facts. Joiwind must know.\"\n\n\"You refuse to consider her feelings?\" said Maskull, turning pale.\n\n\"Feelings which flourish on illusions, and sicken and die on realities,\naren\'t worth considering. But Joiwind\'s are not of that kind.\"\n\n\"If you decline to do what I ask, at least return home without seeing\nher; your sister will get very little pleasure out of the meeting when\nshe hears your news.\"\n\n\"What are these strange relations between you?\" demanded Digrung, eying\nhim with suddenly aroused suspicion.\n\nMaskull stared back in a sort of bewilderment. \"Good God! You don\'t\ndoubt your own sister. That pure angel!\"\n\nTydomin caught hold of him delicately. \"I don\'t know Joiwind, but,\nwhoever she is and whatever she\'s like, I know this--she\'s more\nfortunate in her friend than in her brother. Now, if you really value\nher happiness, Maskull, you will have to take some firm step or other.\"\n\n\"I mean to. Digrung, I shall stop your journey.\"\n\n\"If you intend a second murder, no doubt you are big enough.\"\n\nMaskull turned around to Tydomin and laughed. \"I seem to be leaving a\nwake of corpses behind me on this journey.\"\n\n\"Why a corpse? There\'s no need to kill him.\"\n\n\"Thanks for that!\" said Digrung dryly. \"All the same, some crime is\nabout to burst. I feel it.\"\n\n\"What must I do, then?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"It is not my business, and to tell the truth I am not very\ninterested.... If I were in your place, Maskull, I would not hesitate\nlong. Don\'t you understand how to absorb these creatures, who set their\nfeeble, obstinate wills against yours?\"\n\n\"That is a worse crime,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"Who knows? He will live, but he will tell no tales.\"\n\nDigrung laughed, but changed colour. \"I was right then. The monster has\nsprung into the light of day.\"\n\nMaskull laid a hand on his shoulder. \"You have the choice, and we are\nnot joking. Do as I ask.\"\n\n\"You have fallen low, Maskull. But you are walking in a dream, and I\ncan\'t talk to you. As for you, woman--sin must be like a pleasant bath\nto you....\"\n\n\"There are strange ties between Maskull and myself; but you are a\npasser-by, a foreigner. I care nothing for you.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless, I shall not be frightened out of my plans, which are\nlegitimate and right.\"\n\n\"Do as you please,\" said Tydomin. \"If you come to grief, your thoughts\nwill hardly have corresponded with the real events of the world, which\nis what you boast about. It is no affair of mine.\"\n\n\"I shall go on, and not back!\" exclaimed Digrung, with angry emphasis.\n\nTydomin threw a swift, evil smile at Maskull. \"Bear witness that I have\ntried to persuade this young man. Now you must come to a quick decision\nin your own mind as to which is of the greatest importance, Digrung\'s\nhappiness or Joiwind\'s. Digrung won\'t allow you to preserve them both.\"\n\n\"It won\'t take me long to decide. Digrung, I gave you a last chance to\nchange your mind.\"\n\n\"As long as it\'s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister against\nher criminal friends.\"\n\nMaskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence. Instructed\nin his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young\nman tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet\ndelight immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he\ncomprehended the triumphant joys of \"absorbing.\" It satisfied the hunger\nof the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung\nproved feeble--he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly\nand evenly into Maskull\'s. The latter became strong and gorged. The\nvictim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in\nhis arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his\nsecond crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but...\n\nTydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected\nher to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to\npick up Crimtyphon\'s corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung\'s\ndead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask.\n\n\"Why hasn\'t he altered?\" he muttered to himself.\n\nTydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot.\n\"He isn\'t dead--that\'s why. The expression you mean is waiting for your\ndeath.\"\n\n\"Then is that my real character?\"\n\nShe laughed softly. \"You came here to carve a strange world, and now it\nappears you are carved yourself. Oh, there\'s no doubt about it, Maskull.\nYou needn\'t stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like the rest of\nus. You are not a king, or a god.\"\n\n\"Since when have I belonged to him?\"\n\n\"What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of\nTormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.\"\n\nWithout waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and\nstrode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed\nand looking very grave.\n\nThe journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The\ncharacter of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier\nand more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with\nrolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like\na mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the\nintervening spaces were so wide--Tydomin, however, knew the way. The\nintense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape,\nemerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on\nMaskull\'s mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of\nDisscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them.\n\nThe green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely\nmelted away. The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood\nout with terrific brilliance. They were directly beneath the bulk of\nthe mountain, which was not a mile away. It did not appear dangerous to\nclimb, but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay.\n\nIt was split from top to bottom by numerous straight fissures. A few\npale-green waterfalls descended here and there, like narrow, motionless\nthreads. The face of the mountain was rugged and bare. It was strewn\nwith detached boulders, and great, jagged rocks projected everywhere\nlike iron teeth. Tydomin pointed to a small black hole near the base,\nwhich might be a cave. \"That is where I live.\"\n\n\"You live here alone?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"It\'s an odd choice for a woman--and you are not unbeautiful, either.\"\n\n\"A woman\'s life is over at twenty-five,\" she replied, sighing. \"And I\nam far older than that. Ten years ago it would have been I who lived\nyonder, and not Oceaxe. Then all this wouldn\'t have happened.\"\n\nA quarter of an hour later they stood within the mouth of the cave. It\nwas ten feet high, and its interior was impenetrably black.\n\n\"Put down the body in the entrance, out of the sun,\" directed Tydomin.\nHe did so.\n\nShe cast a keenly scrutinising glance at him. \"Does your resolution\nstill hold, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Why shouldn\'t it hold? My brains are not feathers.\"\n\n\"Follow me, then.\"\n\nThey both stepped into the cave. At that very moment a sickening crash,\nlike heavy thunder just over their heads, set Maskull\'s weakened heart\nthumping violently. An avalanche of boulders, stones, and dust, swept\npast the cave entrance from above. If their going in had been delayed by\na single minute, they would have been killed.\n\nTydomin did not even look up. She took his hand in hers, and started\nwalking with him into the darkness. The temperature became as cold\nas ice. At the first bend the light from the outer world disappeared,\nleaving them in absolute blackness. Maskull kept stumbling over the\nuneven ground, but she kept tight hold of him, and hurried him along.\n\nThe tunnel seemed of interminable length. Presently, however, the\natmosphere changed--or such was his impression. He was somehow led to\nimagine that they had come to a larger chamber. Here Tydomin stopped,\nand then forced him down with quiet pressure. His groping hand\nencountered stone and, by feeling it all over, he discovered that it was\na sort of stone slab, or couch, raised a foot or eighteen inches from\nthe ground. She told him to lie down.\n\n\"Has the time come?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nHe lay there waiting in the darkness, ignorant of what was going to\nhappen. He felt her hand clasping his. Without perceiving any gradation,\nhe lost all consciousness of his body; he was no longer able to feel his\nlimbs or internal organs. His mind remained active and alert. Nothing\nparticular appeared to be taking place.\n\nThen the chamber began to grow light, like very early morning. He could\nsee nothing, but the retina of his eyes was affected. He fancied that\nhe heard music, but while he was listening for it, it stopped. The\nlight grew stronger, the air grew warmer; he heard the confused sound of\ndistant voices.\n\nSuddenly Tydomin gave his hand a powerful squeeze. He heard someone\nscream faintly, and then the light leaped up, and he saw everything\nclearly.\n\nHe was lying on a wooden couch, in a strangely decorated room, lighted\nby electricity. His hand was being squeezed, not by Tydomin, but by\na man dressed in the garments of civilisation, with whose face he was\ncertainly familiar, but under what circumstances he could not recall.\nOther people stood in the background--they too were vaguely known to\nhim. He sat up and began to smile, without any especial reason; and then\nstood upright.\n\nEverybody seemed to be watching him with anxiety and emotion--he\nwondered why. Yet he felt that they were all acquaintances. Two in\nparticular he knew--the man at the farther end of the room, who paced\nrestlessly backward and forward, his face transfigured by stern, holy\ngrandeur; and that other big, bearded man--who was himself. Yes--he was\nlooking at his own double. But it was just as if a crime-riddled man\nof middle age were suddenly confronted with his own photograph as an\nearnest, idealistic youth.\n\nHis other self spoke to him. He heard the sounds, but did not comprehend\nthe sense. Then the door was abruptly flung open, and a short,\nbrutish-looking individual leaped in. He began to behave in an\nextraordinary manner to everyone around him; and after that came\nstraight up to him--Maskull. He spoke some words, but they were\nincomprehensible. A terrible expression came over the newcomer\'s face,\nand he grasped his neck with a pair of hairy hands. Maskull felt his\nbones bending and breaking, excruciating pains passed through all the\nnerves of his body, and he experienced a sense of impending death. He\ncried out, and sank helplessly on the floor, in a heap. The chamber and\nthe company vanished--the light went out.\n\nOnce more he found himself in the blackness of the cave. He was this\ntime lying on the ground, but Tydomin was still with him, holding his\nhand. He was in horrible bodily agony, but this was only a setting for\nthe despairing anguish that filled his mind.\n\nTydomin addressed him in tones of gentle reproach. \"Why are you back so\nsoon? I\'ve not had time yet. You must return.\"\n\nHe caught hold of her, and pulled himself up to his feet. She gave a\nlow scream, as though in pain. \"What does this mean--what are you doing,\nMaskull?\"\n\n\"Krag--\" began Maskull, but the effort to produce his words choked him,\nso that he was obliged to stop.\n\n\"Krag--what of Krag? Tell me quickly what has happened. Free my arm.\"\n\nHe gripped her arm tighter.\n\n\"Yes, I\'ve seen Krag. I\'m awake.\"\n\n\"Oh! You are awake, awake.\"\n\n\"And you must die,\" said Maskull, in an awful voice.\n\n\"But why? What has happened?...\"\n\n\"You must die, and I must kill you. Because I am awake, and for no other\nreason. You blood-stained dancing mistress!\"\n\nTydomin breathed hard for a little time. Then she seemed suddenly to\nregain her self-possession.\n\n\"You won\'t offer me violence, surely, in this black cave?\"\n\n\"No, the sun shall look on, for it is not a murder. But rest assured\nthat you must die--you must expiate your fearful crimes.\"\n\n\"You have already said so, and I see you have the power. You have\nescaped me. It is very curious. Well, then, Maskull, let us come\noutside. I am not afraid. But kill me courteously, for I have also been\ncourteous to you. I make no other supplication.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 11. ON DISSCOURN\n\nBY THE TIME that they regained the mouth of the cavern, Blodsombre was\nat its height. In front of them the scenery sloped downward--a long\nsuccession of mountain islands in a sea of clouds. Behind them the\nbright, stupendous crags of Disscourn loomed up for a thousand feet or\nmore. Maskull\'s eyes were red, and his face looked stupid; he was still\nholding the woman by the arm. She made no attempt to speak, or to get\naway. She seemed perfectly gentle and composed.\n\nAfter gazing at the country for along time in silence, he turned toward\nher. \"Whereabouts is the fiery lake you spoke of?\"\n\n\"It lies on the other side of the mountain. But why do you ask?\"\n\n\"It is just as well if we have some way to walk. I shall grow calmer,\nand that\'s what I want. I wish you to understand that what is going to\nhappen is not a murder, but an execution.\"\n\n\"It will taste the same,\" said Tydomin.\n\n\"When I have gone out of this country, I don\'t wish to feel that I have\nleft a demon behind me, wandering at large. That would not be fair to\nothers. So we will go to the lake, which promises an easy death for\nyou.\"\n\nShe shrugged her shoulders. \"We must wait till Blodsombre is over.\"\n\n\"Is this a time for luxurious feelings? However hot it is now, we will\nboth be cool by evening. We must start at once.\"\n\n\"Without doubt, you are the master, Maskull.... May I not carry\nCrimtyphon?\"\n\nMaskull looked at her strangely.\n\n\"I grudge no man his funeral.\"\n\nShe painfully hoisted the body on her narrow shoulders, and they stepped\nout into the sunlight. The heat struck them like a blow on the head.\nMaskull moved aside, to allow her to precede him, but no compassion\nentered his heart. He brooded over the wrongs the woman had done him.\n\nThe way went along the south side of the great pyramid, near its base.\nIt was a rough road, clogged with boulders and crossed by cracks and\nwater gullies; they could see the water, but could not get at it. There\nwas no shade. Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in\ntheir blood seemed to dry up.\n\nMaskull forgot his own tortures in his devil\'s delight at Tydomin\'s.\n\"Sing me a song!\" he called out presently. \"A characteristic one.\"\n\nShe turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without\nany sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird.\nThe song was so extraordinary that he had to rub his eyes to ascertain\nwhether he was awake or dreaming. The slow surprises of the grotesque\nmelody began to agitate him in a horrible fashion; the words were pure\nnonsense--or else their significance was too deep for him.\n\n\"Where, in the name of all unholy things, did you acquire that stuff,\nwoman?\"\n\nTydomin shed a sickly smile, while the corpse swayed about with ghastly\njerks over her left shoulder. She held it in position with her two left\narms. \"It\'s a pity we could not have met as friends, Maskull. I could\nhave shown you a side of Tormance which now perhaps you will never see.\nThe wild, mad, side. But now it\'s too late, and it doesn\'t matter.\"\n\nThey turned the angle of the mountain, and started to traverse the\nwestern base.\n\n\"Which is the quickest way out of this miserable land?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"It is easiest to go to Sant.\"\n\n\"Will we see it from anywhere?\"\n\n\"Yes, though it is a long way off.\"\n\n\"Have you been there?\"\n\n\"I am a woman, and interdicted.\"\n\n\"True. I have heard something of the sort.\"\n\n\"But don\'t ask me any more questions,\" said Tydomin, who was becoming\nfaint.\n\nMaskull stopped at a little spring. He himself drank, and then made a\ncup of his hand for the woman, so that she might not have to lay down\nher burden. The gnawl water acted like magic--it seemed to replenish\nall the cells of his body as though they had been thirsty sponge pores,\nsucking up liquid. Tydomin recovered her self-possession.\n\nAbout three-quarters of an hour later they worked around the second\ncorner, and entered into full view of the north aspect of Disscourn.\n\nA hundred yards lower down the slope on which they were walking, the\nmountain ended abruptly in a chasm. The air above it was filled with\na sort of green haze, which trembled violently like the atmosphere\nimmediately over a furnace.\n\n\"The lake is underneath,\" said Tydomin.\n\nMaskull looked curiously about him. Beyond the crater the country sloped\naway in a continuous descent to the skyline. Behind them, a narrow path\nchannelled its way up through the rocks toward the towering summit of\nthe pyramid. Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped\nplateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was\nSant--and there and then he made up his mind that that should be his\ndestination that day.\n\nTydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down\nCrimtyphon\'s body on the edge. In a minute or two, Maskull joined her;\narrived at the brink, he immediately flung himself at full length on\nhis chest, to see what could be seen of the lake of fire. A gust of hot,\nasphyxiating air smote his face and set him coughing, but he did not get\nup until he had stared his fill at the huge sea of green, molten lava,\ntossing and swirling at no great distance below, like a living will.\n\nA faint sound of drumming came up. He listened intently, and as he did\nso his heart quickened and the black cares rolled away from his soul.\nAll the world and its accidents seemed at that moment false, and without\nmeaning....\n\nHe climbed abstractedly to his feet. Tydomin was talking to her dead\nhusband. She was peering into the hideous face of ivory, and fondling\nhis violet hair. When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the\nwithered lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all\nthree arms, she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and,\nafter an instant\'s hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It\ndisappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That\nwas Crimtyphon\'s funeral.\n\n\"Now I am ready, Maskull.\"\n\nHe did not answer, but stared past her. Another figure was standing,\nerect and mournful, not far behind her. It was Joiwind. Her face was\nwan, and there was an accusing look in her eyes. Maskull knew that\nit was a phantasm, and that the real Joiwind was miles away, at\nPoolingdred.\n\n\"Turn around, Tydomin,\" he said oddly, \"and tell me what you see behind\nyou.\"\n\n\"I don\'t see anything,\" she answered, looking around.\n\n\"But I see Joiwind.\"\n\nJust as he was speaking, the apparition vanished.\n\n\"Now I present you with your life, Tydomin. She wishes it.\"\n\nThe woman fingered her chin thoughtfully.\n\n\"I little expected I should ever be beholden for my life to one of my\nown sex--but so be it. What really happened to you in my cavern?\"\n\n\"I really saw Krag.\"\n\n\"Yes, some miracle must have taken place.\" She suddenly shivered. \"Come,\nlet us leave this horrible spot. I shall never come here again.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Maskull, \"it stinks of death and dying. But where are we\nto go--what are we to do? Take me to Sant. I must get away from this\nhellish land.\"\n\nTydomin remained standing, dull and hollow-eyed. Then she gave an\nabrupt, bitter little laugh. \"We make our journey together in singular\nstages. Rather than be alone, I\'ll come with you--but you know that if I\nset foot in Sant they will kill me.\"\n\n\"At least set me on the way. I wish to get there before night. Is it\npossible?\"\n\n\"If you are willing to take risks with nature. And why should you\nnot take risks today? Your luck holds. But someday or other it won\'t\nhold--your luck.\"\n\n\"Let us start,\" said Maskull. \"The luck I\'ve had so far is nothing to\nbrag about.\"\n\nBlodsombre was over when they set off; it was early afternoon, but\nthe heat seemed more stifling than ever. They made no more pretence at\nconversation; both were buried in their own painful thoughts. The land\nfell away from Disscourn in all other directions, but toward Sant there\nwas a gentle, persistent rise. Its dark, distant plateau continued to\ndominate the landscape, and after walking for an hour they seemed none\nthe nearer to it. The air was stale and stagnant.\n\nBy and by, an upright object, apparently the work of man, attracted\nMaskull\'s notice. It was a slender tree stem, with the bark still on,\nimbedded in the stony ground. From the upper end three branches sprang\nout, pointing aloft at a sharp angle. They were stripped to twigs and\nleaves and, getting closer, he saw that they had been artificially\nfastened on, at equal distances from each other.\n\nAs he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity\nand self-sufficiency seemed to pass through him, but it was so momentary\nthat he could be sure of nothing.\n\n\"What may that be, Tydomin?\"\n\n\"It is Hator\'s Trifork.\"\n\n\"And what is its purpose?\"\n\n\"It\'s a guide to Sant.\"\n\n\"But who or what is Hator?\"\n\n\"Hator was the founder of Sant--many thousands of years ago. He laid\ndown the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol.\nWhen I was a little child my father told me the legends, but I\'ve\nforgotten most of them.\"\n\nMaskull regarded it attentively.\n\n\"Does it affect you in any way?\"\n\n\"And why should it do that?\" she said, dropping her lip scornfully. \"I\nam only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries.\"\n\n\"A sort of gladness came over me,\" said Maskull, \"but perhaps I am\nmistaken.\"\n\nThey passed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid\nparts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and\nmore infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The\npeculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a\ndifferent order of things.\n\nLater on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the\nair. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and\nbegan to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree.\nMaskull, who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following\nher example. A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and\nbody, his muscles regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat\nwith hard, slow, strong throbs.\n\n\"Food and body seem to agree well in this world,\" he remarked smiling.\n\nShe glanced toward him. \"Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, but\nin your body.\"\n\n\"I brought my body with me.\"\n\n\"You brought your soul with you, but that\'s altering fast, too.\"\n\nIn a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but\npossessing a multitude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles\nof a cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry\nanimal, somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the\nmost extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to\nrealise that the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from\nbranch to branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned\nmouse is thrown by a cat from paw to paw.\n\nHe watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest.\n\n\"That\'s a gruesome reversal of roles, Tydomin.\"\n\n\"One can see you\'re disgusted,\" she replied, stifling a yawn. \"But that\nis because you are a slave to words. If you called that plant an animal,\nyou would find its occupation perfectly natural and pleasing. And why\nshould you not call it an animal?\"\n\n\"I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I\nshall go on listening to this sort of language.\"\n\nThey trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became\novercast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed\ninto an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A\nchill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker,\nthe sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at\nhimself, Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a\nkind of green hoarfrost.\n\nThe land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them,\nagainst a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts\ngyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and\nself-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were\nnot waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning.\n\n\"Then they are dangerous?\"\n\n\"So we think,\" she answered, watching them closely.\n\n\"Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion.\"\n\nAmong the spouts, and entirely encompassed by them, a man was walking\nwith a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and\nTydomin. There was something unusual in his appearance--his form looked\nextraordinarily distinct, solid, and real.\n\n\"If there\'s danger, he ought to be warned,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,\" returned the\nwoman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the arm, and\ncontinued to watch.\n\nThe base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed,\nbut turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the\nproximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full\nheight, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He\nseemed to be addressing the columns.\n\nWhile they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with\na series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He\ndropped his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood\nstill, waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person\ngrew more and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be\ncomposed of some substance heavier and denser than solid matter.\n\nTydomin looked perplexed.\n\n\"He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. This\nis a day of days for me.\"\n\n\"He must be an individual of great importance,\" murmured Maskull.\n\nThey now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was\nclothed in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the\nwind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming\nmoisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of\npale iron. There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and\na projecting chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were\ntwo flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes\nwere expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the\nstem eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt\nas though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was\nmiddle-aged.\n\nHis physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him,\nevery object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin\'s\nperson suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and\nMaskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening\nfire began running through his veins.\n\nHe turned to the woman. \"If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him\ncompany. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.\"\n\n\"Let Tydomin come too.\"\n\nThe words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as\nintelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English.\n\n\"You who know my name, also know my sex,\" said Tydomin quietly. \"It is\ndeath for me to enter Sant.\"\n\n\"That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law.\"\n\n\"Is it so--and will it be accepted?\"\n\n\"The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming\nunderneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.\"\n\nThe storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood\ntalking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it.\n\n\"What is your name?\" asked Maskull, with a beating heart.\n\n\"My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean of\nspace, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter\nof the despised sex, shall be my second.\"\n\n\"The new law? But what is it?\"\n\n\"Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both of\nyou, to me!\"\n\nTydomin went to him unhesitatingly. Spadevil pressed his hand on her\nsorb and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes.\nWhen he removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into\ntwin membranes like Spadevil\'s own.\n\nTydomin looked dazed. She glanced quietly about for a little while,\napparently testing her new faculty. Then the tears started to her eyes\nand, snatching up Spadevil\'s hand, she bent over and kissed it hurriedly\nmany times.\n\n\"My past has been bad,\" she said. \"Numbers have received harm from me,\nand none good. I have killed and worse. But now I can throw all that\naway, and laugh. Nothing can now injure me. Oh, Maskull, you and I have\nbeen fools together!\"\n\n\"Don\'t you repent your crimes?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"Leave the past alone,\" said Spadevil, \"it cannot be reshaped. The\nfuture alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this very minute.\nWhy do you hesitate, Maskull? Are you afraid?\"\n\n\"What is the name of, those organs, and what is their function?\"\n\n\"They are probes, and they are the gates opening into a new world.\"\n\nMaskull lingered no longer, but permitted Spadevil to cover his sorb.\n\nWhile the iron hand was still pressing his forehead, the new law quietly\nflowed into his consciousness, like a smooth-running stream of clean\nwater which had hitherto been dammed by his obstructive will. The law\nwas duty.\n\n\n\nChapter 12. SPADEVIL\n\nMaskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their\nown, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his\neyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him,\nbut his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external\nthings had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to\nwhether they served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or\notherwise, they had been pleasant or painful. Now these words \"pleasure\"\nand \"pain\" simply had no meaning.\n\nThe other two watched him, while he was making himself acquainted with\nhis new mental outlook. He smiled at them.\n\n\"You were quite right, Tydomin,\" he said, in a bold, cheerful voice. \"We\nhave been fools. So near the light all the time, and we never guessed\nit. Always buried in the past or future--systematically ignoring the\npresent--and now it turns out that apart from the present we have no\nlife at all.\"\n\n\"Thank Spadevil for it,\" she answered, more loudly than usual.\n\nMaskull looked at the man\'s dark, concrete form. \"Spadevil, now I mean\nto follow you to the end. I can do nothing less.\"\n\nThe severe face showed no sign of gratification--not a muscle relaxed.\n\n\"Watch that you don\'t lose your gift,\" he said gruffly.\n\nTydomin spoke. \"You promised that I should enter Sant with you.\"\n\n\"Attach yourself to the truth, not to me. For I may die before you, but\nthe truth will accompany you to your death. However, now let us journey\ntogether, all three of us.\"\n\nThe words had not left his mouth before he put his face against the\nfine, driving snow, and pressed onward toward his destination. He walked\nwith a long stride; Tydomin was obliged to half run in order to keep up\nwith him. The three travelled abreast; Spadevil in the middle. The fog\nwas so dense that it was impossible to see a hundred yards ahead. The\nground was covered by the green snow. The wind blew in gusts from the\nSant highlands and was piercingly cold.\n\n\"Spadevil, are you a man, or more than a man?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"He that is not more than a man is nothing.\"\n\n\"Where have you now come from?\"\n\n\"From brooding, Maskull. Out of no other mother can truth be born. I\nhave brooded, and rejected; and I have brooded again. Now, after many\nmonths\' absence from Sant, the truth at last shines forth for me in its\nsimple splendour, like an upturned diamond.\"\n\n\"I see its shining,\" said Maskull. \"But how much does it owe to ancient\nHator?\"\n\n\"Knowledge has its seasons. The blossom was to Hator, the fruit is to\nme. Hator also was a brooder--but now his followers do not brood. In\nSant all is icy selfishness, a living death. They hate pleasure, and\nthis hatred is the greatest pleasure to them.\"\n\n\"But in what way have they fallen off from Hator\'s doctrines?\"\n\n\"For him, in his sullen purity of nature, all the world was a snare,\na limed twig. Knowing that pleasure was everywhere, a fierce, mocking\nenemy, crouching and waiting at every corner of the road of life, in\norder to kill with its sweet sting the naked grandeur of the soul, he\nshielded himself behind pain. This also his followers do, but they\ndo not do it for the sake of the soul, but for the sake of vanity and\npride.\"\n\n\"What is the Trifork?\"\n\n\"The stem, Maskull, is hatred of pleasure. The first fork is\ndisentanglement from the sweetness of the world. The second fork is\npower over those who still writhe in the nets of illusion. The third\nfork is the healthy glow of one who steps into ice-cold water.\"\n\n\"From what land did Hator come?\"\n\n\"It is not said. He lived in Ifdawn for a while. There are many legends\ntold of him while there.\"\n\n\"We have a long way to go,\" said Tydomin. \"Relate some of these legends,\nSpadevil.\"\n\nThe snow had ceased, the day brightened, Branchspell reappeared like a\nphantom sun, but bitter blasts of wind still swept over the plain.\n\n\"In those days,\" said Spadevil, \"there existed in Ifdawn a mountain\nisland separated by wide spaces from the land around it. A handsome\ngirl, who knew sorcery, caused a bridge to be constructed across which\nmen and women might pass to it. Having by a false tale drawn Hator on to\nthis rock, she pushed at the bridge with her foot until it tumbled into\nthe depths below. \'You and I, Hator, are now together, and there is no\nmeans of separating. I wish to see how long the famous frost man can\nwithstand the breath, smiles and perfume of a girl.\' Hator said no word,\neither then or all that day. He stood till sunset like a tree trunk, and\nthought of other things. Then the girl grew passionate, and shook\nher curls. She rose from where she was sitting she looked at him, and\ntouched his arm; but he did not see her. She looked at him, so that all\nthe soul was in her eyes; and then she fell down dead. Hator awoke from\nhis thoughts, and saw her lying, still warm, at his feet, a corpse. He\npassed to the mainland; but how, it is not related.\"\n\nTydomin shuddered. \"You too have met your wicked woman, Spadevil; but\nyour method is a nobler one.\"\n\n\"Don\'t pity other women,\" said Spadevil, \"but love the right. Hator also\nonce conversed with Shaping.\"\n\n\"With the Maker of the World?\" said Maskull thoughtfully.\n\n\"With the Maker of Pleasure. It is told how Shaping defended his world,\nand tried to force Hator to acknowledge loveliness and joy. But Hator,\nanswering all his marvellous speeches in a few concise, iron words,\nshowed how this joy and beauty was but another name for the bestiality\nof souls wallowing in luxury and sloth. Shaping smiled, and said, \'How\ncomes it that your wisdom is greater than that of the Master of wisdom?\'\nHator said, \'My wisdom does not come from you, nor from your world,\nbut from that other world, which you, Shaping, have vainly tried to\nimitate.\' Shaping replied, \'What, then, do you do in my world?\' Hator\nsaid, \'I am here falsely, and therefore I am subject to your false\npleasures. But I wrap myself in pain--not because it is good, but\nbecause I wish to keep myself as far from you as possible. For pain\nis not yours, neither does it belong to the other world, but it is the\nshadow cast by your false pleasures.\' Shaping then said, \'What is this\nfaraway other world of which you say \"This is so--this is not so?\" How\nhappens it that you alone of all my creatures have knowledge of it?\' But\nHator spat at his feet, and said, \'You lie, Shaping. All have knowledge\nof it. You, with your pretty toys, alone obscure it from our view.\'\nShaping asked, \'What, then, am I?\' Hator answered, \'You are the dreamer\nof impossible dreams.\' And then the story goes that Shaping departed,\nill pleased with what had been said.\"\n\n\"What other world did Hator refer to?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"One where grandeur reigns, Maskull, just as pleasure reigns here.\"\n\n\"Whether grandeur or pleasure, it makes no difference,\" said Maskull.\n\"The individual spirit that lives and wishes to live is mean and\ncorrupt-natured.\"\n\n\"Guard you your pride!\" returned Spadevil. \"Do not make law for the\nuniverse and for all time, but for yourself and for this small, false\nlife of yours.\"\n\n\"In what shape did death come to that hard, unconquerable man?\" asked\nTydomin.\n\n\"He lived to be old, but went upright and free-limbed to his last hour.\nWhen he saw that death could not be staved off longer he determined to\ndestroy himself. He gathered his friends around him; not from vanity,\nbut that they might see to what lengths the human soul can go in its\nperpetual warfare with the voluptuous body. Standing erect, without\nsupport, he died by withholding his breath.\"\n\nA silence followed, which lasted for perhaps an hour. Their minds\nrefused to acknowledge the icy winds, but the current of their thoughts\nbecame frozen.\n\nWhen Branchspell, however, shone out again, though with subdued power,\nMaskull\'s curiosity rose once more. \"Your fellow countrymen, then,\nSpadevil, are sick with self-love?\"\n\n\"The men of other countries,\" said Spadevil, \"are the slaves of pleasure\nand desire, knowing it. But the men of my country are the slaves of\npleasure and desire, not knowing it.\"\n\n\"And yet that proud pleasure, which rejoices in self-torture, has\nsomething noble in it.\"\n\n\"He who studies himself at all is ignoble. Only by despising soul as\nwell as body can a man enter into true life.\"\n\n\"On what grounds do they reject women?\"\n\n\"Inasmuch as a woman has ideal love, and cannot live for herself. Love\nfor another is pleasure for the loved one, and therefore injurious to\nhim.\"\n\n\"A forest of false ideas is waiting for your axe,\" said Maskull. \"But\nwill they allow it?\"\n\n\"Spadevil knows, Maskull,\" said Tydomin, \"that be it today or be it\ntomorrow, love can\'t be kept out of a land, even by the disciples of\nHator.\"\n\n\"Beware of love--beware of emotion!\" exclaimed Spadevil. \"Love is but\npleasure once removed. Think not of pleasing others, but of serving\nthem.\"\n\n\"Forgive me, Spadevil, if I am still feminine.\"\n\n\"Right has no sex. So long, Tydomin, as you remember that you are a\nwoman, so long you will not enter into divine apathy of soul.\"\n\n\"But where there are no women, there are no children,\" said Maskull.\n\"How came there to be all these generations of Hator men?\"\n\n\"Life breeds passion, passion breeds suffering, suffering breeds the\nyearning for relief from suffering. Men throng to Sant from all parts,\nin order to have the scars of their souls healed.\"\n\n\"In place of hatred of pleasure, which all can understand, what simple\nformula do you offer?\"\n\n\"Iron obedience to duty,\" answered Spadevil.\n\n\"And if they ask \'How far is this consistent with hatred of pleasure?\'\nwhat will your pronouncement be?\"\n\n\"I do not answer them, but I answer you, Maskull, who ask the question.\nHatred is passion, and all passion springs from the dark fires of\nself. Do not hate pleasure at all, but pass it by on one side, calm and\nundisturbed.\"\n\n\"What is the criterion of pleasure? How can we always recognise it, in\norder to avoid it?\"\n\n\"Rigidly follow duty, and such questions will not arise.\"\n\nLater in the afternoon, Tydomin timidly placed her fingers on Spadevil\'s\narm.\n\n\"Fearful doubts are in my mind,\" she said. \"This expedition to Sant may\nturn out badly. I have seen a vision of you, Spadevil, and myself lying\ndead and covered in blood, but Maskull was not there.\"\n\n\"We may drop the torch, but it will not be extinguished, and others will\nraise it.\"\n\n\"Show me a sign that you are not as other men--so that I may know that\nour blood will not be wasted.\"\n\nSpadevil regarded her sternly. \"I am not a magician. I don\'t persuade\nthe senses, but the soul. Does your duty call you to Sant, Tydomin? Then\ngo there. Does it not call you to Sant? Then go no farther. Is not this\nsimple? What signs are necessary?\"\n\n\"Did I not see you dispel those spouts of lightning? No common man could\nhave done that.\"\n\n\"Who knows what any man can do? This man can do one thing, that man can\ndo another. But what all men can do is their duty; and to open their\neyes to this, I must go to Sant, and if necessary lay down my life. Will\nyou not still accompany me?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Tydomin, \"I will follow you to the end. It is all the more\nessential, because I keep on displeasing you with my remarks, and that\nmeans I have not yet learned my lesson properly.\"\n\n\"Do not be humble, for humility is only self-judgment, and while we are\nthinking of self, we must be neglecting some action we could be planning\nor shaping in our mind.\"\n\nTydomin continued to be uneasy and preoccupied.\n\n\"Why was Maskull not in the picture?\" she asked.\n\n\"You dwell on this foreboding because you imagine it is tragical. There\nis nothing tragical in death, Tydomin, nor in life. There is only right\nand wrong. What arises from right or wrong action does not matter. We\nare not gods, constructing a world, but simple men and women, doing our\nimmediate duty. We may die in Sant--so you have seen it; but the truth\nwill go on living.\"\n\n\"Spadevil, why do you choose Sant to start your work in?\" asked Maskull.\n\"These men with fixed ideas seem to me the least likely of any to follow\na new light.\"\n\n\"Where a bad tree thrives, a good tree will flourish. But where no tree\nat all can be found, nothing will grow.\"\n\n\"I understand you,\" said Maskull. \"Here perhaps we are going to\nmartyrdom, but elsewhere we should resemble men preaching to cattle.\"\n\nShortly before sunset they arrived at the extremity of the upland\nplain, above which towered the black cliffs of the Sant Levels. A dizzy,\nartificially constructed staircase, of more than a thousand steps of\nvarying depth, twisting and forking in order to conform to the angles of\nthe precipices, led to the world overhead. In the place where they\nstood they were sheltered from the cutting winds. Branchspell, radiantly\nshining at last, but on the point of sinking, filled the cloudy sky with\nviolent, lurid colors, some of the combinations of which were new to\nMaskull. The circle of the horizon was so gigantic, that had he been\nsuddenly carried back to Earth, he would by comparison have fancied\nhimself to be moving beneath the dome of some little, closed-in\ncathedral. He realised that he was on a foreign planet. But he was not\nstirred or uplifted by the knowledge; he was conscious only of moral\nideas. Looking backward, he saw the plain, which for several miles\npast had been without vegetation, stretching back away to Disscourn.\nSo regular had been the ascent, and so great was the distance, that the\nhuge pyramid looked nothing more than a slight swelling on the face of\nthe earth.\n\nSpadevil stopped, and gazed over the landscape in silence. In the\nevening sunlight his form looked more dense, dark, and real than ever\nbefore. His features were set hard in grimness.\n\nHe turned around to his companions. \"What is the greatest wonder, in all\nthis wonderful scene?\" he demanded.\n\n\"Acquaint us,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"All that you see is born from pleasure, and moves on, from pleasure to\npleasure. Nowhere is right to be found. It is Shaping\'s world.\"\n\n\"There is another wonder,\" said Tydomin, and she pointed her finger\ntoward the sky overhead.\n\nA small cloud, so low down that it was perhaps not more than five\nhundred feet above them, was sailing along in front of the dark wall\nof cliff. It was in the exact shape of an open human hand, with\ndownward-pointing fingers. It was stained crimson by the sun; and one\nor two tiny cloudlets beneath the fingers looked like falling drops of\nblood.\n\n\"Who can doubt now that our death is close at hand?\" said Tydomin. \"I\nhave been close to death twice today. The first time I was ready, but\nnow I am more ready, for I shall die side by side with the man who has\ngiven me my first happiness.\"\n\n\"Do not think of death, but of right persistence,\" replied Spadevil. \"I\nam not here to tremble before Shaping\'s portents; but to snatch men from\nhim.\"\n\nHe at once proceeded to lead the way up the staircase. Tydomin gazed\nupward after him for a moment, with an odd, worshiping light in her\neyes. Then she followed him, the second of the party. Maskull climbed\nlast. He was travel stained, unkempt, and very tired; but his soul was\nat peace. As they steadily ascended the almost perpendicular stairs, the\nsun got higher in the sky. Its light dyed their bodies a ruddy gold.\n\nThey gained the top. There they found rolling in front of them, as far\nas the eye could see, a barren desert of white sand, broken here and\nthere by large, jagged masses of black rock. Tracts of the sand were\nreddened by the sinking sun. The vast expanse of sky was filled by\nevil-shaped clouds and wild colors. The freezing wind, flurrying across\nthe desert, drove the fine particles of sand painfully against their\nfaces.\n\n\"Where now do you take us?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"He who guards the old wisdom of Sant must give up that wisdom to\nme, that I may change it. What he says, others will say. I go to find\nMaulger.\"\n\n\"And where will you seek him, in this bare country?\"\n\nSpadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly.\n\n\"It is not so far,\" he said. \"It is his custom to be in that part where\nSant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be there, but I\ncannot say.\"\n\nMaskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles\nbeneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness.\n\n\"The woman is tired, Spadevil,\" he said.\n\nShe smiled, \"It\'s but another step into the land of death. I can manage\nit. Give me your arm, Maskull.\"\n\nHe put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way.\n\n\"The sun is now sinking,\" said Maskull. \"Will we get there before dark?\"\n\n\"Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil in\nyour nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall\narrive before dark.\"\n\nThe sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the\nwestern boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid\ncolors. The wind grew colder.\n\nThey passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of\nwhich were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was\nhard, bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but\nhe felt braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other\ntrees or shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds\nor insects. It was a desolate land.\n\nA mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the\nplateau. Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began.\nBut daylight had vanished there; Maskull\'s eyes rested only on a vague\ndarkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of\ninnumerable treetops.\n\nIn the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was\nstanding in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from\ntheir view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to\nthe one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in\nthe mud close by his hand.\n\nThey stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became\naware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out\nof the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so.\n\n\"This is not Maulger, but Catice,\" said Spadevil.\n\n\"Maulger is dead,\" said Catice, speaking the same tongue as Spadevil,\nbut with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull\'s ear\nwas affected painfully.\n\nThe latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in\nyears. He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long\nand heavy, but his legs were rather short. His face was beardless,\nlemon-coloured, and anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of\nlongitudinal ruts, a quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which\nseemed clogged with ancient dirt. The hair of his head was black and\nsparse. Instead of the twin membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed\nbut one; and this was in the centre of his brow.\n\nSpadevil\'s dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality\namong dreams.\n\n\"Has the trifork passed to you?\" he demanded.\n\n\"Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?\"\n\n\"I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith.\"\n\nCatice stood motionless, and looked troubled. \"State it.\"\n\n\"Shall I speak with many words, or few words?\"\n\n\"If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. If you\nwish to say what is, a few words will be enough.\"\n\nSpadevil frowned.\n\n\"To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill\npleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is planning\nright action, it has no time to think of pleasure.\"\n\n\"Is that the whole?\" asked Catice.\n\n\"The truth is simple, even for the simplest man.\"\n\n\"Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?\"\n\n\"I destroy nature, and set up law.\"\n\nA long silence followed.\n\n\"My probe is double,\" said Spadevil. \"Suffer me to double yours, and you\nwill see as I see.\"\n\n\"Come you here, you big man!\" said Catice to Maskull. Maskull advanced a\nstep closer.\n\n\"Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?\"\n\n\"As far as death,\" exclaimed Maskull.\n\nCatice picked up a flint. \"With this stone I strike out one of your\ntwo probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will\nrecollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall\nobey your choice.\"\n\n\"Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men,\" said\nSpadevil.\n\n\"The pain is nothing,\" replied Maskull, \"but I fear the result.\"\n\n\"Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,\" said\nTydomin, stretching out her hand.\n\nHe struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to\nthumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. \"What brings this kiss-lover\nto Sant?\" he said. \"How does she presume to make the rules of life for\nthe sons of Hator?\"\n\nShe bit her lip, and stepped back. \"Well then, Maskull, accept! I\ncertainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can.\"\n\n\"If he bids me, I must do it,\" said Maskull. \"But who knows what will\ncome of it?\"\n\nSpadevil spoke. \"Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most\nwholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking\nme a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed\nwill escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men\nwill know that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here\nwill live to see that.\"\n\nMaskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice\nraised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment,\nbrought it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe.\nMaskull cried out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the\nfunction of the organ was destroyed.\n\nThere was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the\nblood.\n\n\"What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?\" inquired Tydomin\nanxiously.\n\nHe stopped, and stared hard at her. \"I now see straight,\" he said\nslowly.\n\n\"What does that mean?\"\n\nHe continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled.\n\"Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and\nrefuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same.\"\n\nSpadevil gazed at him sternly. \"Do you renounce my teaching?\"\n\nMaskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil\'s\nimage-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he\nknew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect.\n\n\"It is false.\"\n\n\"Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?\" demanded Tydomin.\n\n\"I can\'t argue as yet,\" said Maskull. \"At this moment the world with\nits sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I feel a loathing for\neverything in it, including myself. I know no more.\"\n\n\"Is there no duty?\" asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone.\n\n\"It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of other\npeople.\"\n\nTydomin pulled at Spadevil\'s arm. \"Maskull has betrayed you, as he has\nso many others. Let us go.\"\n\nHe stood fast. \"You have changed quickly, Maskull.\"\n\nMaskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. \"Why do men go on\nliving in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?\"\n\n\"Pain is the native air of Surtur\'s children. To what other air do you\nwish to escape?\"\n\n\"Surtur\'s children? Is not Surtur Shaping?\"\n\n\"It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping\'s masterpiece.\"\n\n\"Answer, Maskull!\" said Spadevil. \"Do you repudiate right action?\"\n\n\"Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. I\nwish you no harm.\"\n\nThe darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence.\n\nCatice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. \"The woman must\nreturn home,\" he said.\n\n\"She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, must\ndie--backslider as you are!\"\n\nTydomin said quietly, \"He has no power to enforce this. Are you going to\nallow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?\"\n\n\"It will not perish by my death, but by my efforts to escape from death.\nCatice, I accept your judgment.\"\n\nTydomin smiled. \"For my part, I am too tired to walk farther today, so I\nshall die with him.\"\n\nCatice said to Maskull, \"Prove your sincerity. Kill this man and his\nmistress, according to the laws of Hator.\"\n\n\"I can\'t do that. I have travelled in friendship with them.\"\n\n\"You denied duty; and now you must do your duty,\" said Spadevil, calmly\nstroking his beard. \"Whatever law you accept, You must obey, without\nturning to right or left. Your law commands that we must be stoned; and\nit will soon be dark.\"\n\n\"Have you not even this amount of manhood?\" exclaimed Tydomin.\n\nMaskull moved heavily. \"Be my witness, Catice, that the thing was forced\non me.\"\n\n\"Hator is looking on, and approving,\" replied Catice.\n\nMaskull then went apart to the pile of boulders scattered by the side\nof the pool. He glanced about him, and selected two large fragments of\nrock, the heaviest that he thought he could carry. With these in his\narms, he staggered back.\n\nHe dropped them on the ground, and stood, recovering his breath. When\nhe could speak again, he said, \"I have a bad heart for the business. Is\nthere no alternative? Sleep here tonight, Spadevil, and in the morning\ngo back to where you have come from. No one shall harm you.\"\n\nSpadevil\'s ironic smile was lost in the gloom.\n\n\"Shall I brood again, Maskull, for still another year, and after that\ncome back to Sant with other truths? Come, waste no time, but choose the\nheavier stone for me, for I am stronger than Tydomin.\"\n\nMaskull lifted one of the rocks, and stepped out four full paces.\nSpadevil confronted him, erect, and waited tranquilly.\n\nThe huge stone hurtled through the air. Its flight looked like a dark\nshadow. It struck Spadevil full in the face, crushing his features, and\nbreaking his neck. He died instantaneously.\n\nTydomin looked away from the fallen man.\n\n\"Be very quick, Maskull, and don\'t let me keep him waiting.\"\n\nHe panted, and raised the second stone. She placed herself in front of\nSpadevil\'s body, and stood there, unsmiling and cold.\n\nThe blow caught her between breast and chin, and she fell. Maskull went\nto her, and, kneeling on the ground, half-raised her in his arms. There\nshe breathed out her last sighs.\n\nAfter that, he laid her down again, and rested heavily on his hands,\nwhile he peered into the dead face. The transition from its heroic,\nspiritual expression to the vulgar and grinning mask of Crystalman came\nlike a flash; but he saw it.\n\nHe stood up in the darkness, and pulled Catice toward him.\n\n\"Is that the true likeness of Shaping?\"\n\n\"It is Shaping stripped of illusion.\"\n\n\"How comes this horrible world to exist?\"\n\nCatice did not answer.\n\n\"Who is Surtur?\"\n\n\"You will get nearer to him tomorrow; but not here.\"\n\n\"I am wading through too much blood,\" said Maskull. \"Nothing good can\ncome of it.\"\n\n\"Do not fear change and destruction; but laughter and joy.\"\n\nMaskull meditated.\n\n\"Tell me, Catice. If I had elected to follow Spadevil, would you really\nhave accepted his faith?\"\n\n\"He was a great-souled man,\" replied Catice. \"I see that the pride of\nour men is only another sprouting-out of pleasure. Tomorrow I too shall\nleave Sant, to reflect on all this.\"\n\nMaskull shuddered. \"Then these two deaths were not a necessity, but a\ncrime!\"\n\n\"His part was played and henceforward the woman would have dragged down\nhis ideas, with her soft love and loyalty. Regret nothing, stranger, but\ngo away at once out of the land.\"\n\n\"Tonight? Where shall I go?\"\n\n\"To Wombflash, where you will meet the deepest minds. I will put you on\nthe way.\"\n\nHe linked his arm in Maskull\'s, and they walked away into the night.\nFor a mile or more they skirted the edge of the precipice. The wind was\nsearching, and drove grit into their faces. Through the rifts of the\nclouds, stars, faint and brilliant, appeared. Maskull saw no familiar\nconstellations. He wondered if the sun of earth was visible, and if so\nwhich one it was.\n\nThey came to the head of a rough staircase, leading down the cliffside.\nIt resembled the one by which he had come up; but this descended to the\nWombflash Forest.\n\n\"That is your path,\" said Catice, \"and I shall not come any farther.\"\n\nMaskull detained him. \"Say just this, before we part company--why does\npleasure appear so shameful to us?\"\n\n\"Because in feeling pleasure, we forget our home.\"\n\n\"And that is--\"\n\n\"Muspel,\" answered Catice.\n\nHaving made this reply, he disengaged himself, and, turning his back,\ndisappeared into the darkness.\n\nMaskull stumbled down the staircase as best he could. He was tired,\nbut contemptuous of his pains. His uninjured probe began to discharge\nmatter. He lowered himself from step to step during what seemed an\ninterminable time. The rustling and sighing of the trees grew louder as\nhe approached the bottom; the air became still and warm.\n\nHe at last reached level ground. Still attempting to proceed, he began\nto trip over roots, and to collide with tree trunks. After this had\nhappened a few times, he determined to go no farther that night. He\nheaped together some dry leaves for a pillow, and immediately flung\nhimself down to sleep. Deep and heavy unconsciousness seized him almost\ninstantly.\n\n\n\nChapter 13. THE WOMBFLASH FOREST\n\nHe awoke to his third day on Tormance. His limbs ached. He lay on his\nside, looking stupidly at his surroundings. The forest was like night,\nbut that period of the night when the grey dawn is about to break and\nobjects begin to be guessed at, rather than seen. Two or three amazing\nshadowy shapes, as broad as houses, loomed up out of the twilight. He\ndid not realise that they were trees, until he turned over on his back\nand followed their course upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared\nnot calculate the height, he saw their tops glittering in the sunlight,\nagainst a tiny patch of blue sky.\n\nClouds of mist, rolling over the floor of the forest, kept interrupting\nhis view. In their silent passage they were like phantoms flitting among\nthe trees. The leaves underneath him were sodden, and heavy drops of\nmoisture splashed onto his head from time to time.\n\nHe continued lying there, trying to reconstruct the events of the\npreceding day. His brain was lethargic and confused. Something terrible\nhad happened, but what it was he could not for a long time recollect.\nThen suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at\ndusk on the Sant plateau--Spadevil\'s crushed and bloody features and\nTydomin\'s dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick.\n\nThe peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had\ndeparted from him during the night, and now he recognised what he\nhad done! During the whole of the previous day he seemed to have\nbeen labouring under a series of heavy enchantments. First Oceaxe had\nenslaved him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and lastly Catice. They\nhad forced him to murder and violate; he had guessed nothing, but had\nimagined that he was travelling as a free and enlightened stranger.\nWhat was this nightmare journey for--and would it continue, in the same\nway?...\n\nThe silence of the forest was so intense that he heard no sound except\nthe pumping of blood through his arteries.\n\nPutting his hand to his face, he found that his remaining probe had\ndisappeared and that he was in possession of three eyes. The third eye\nwas on his forehead, where the old sorb had been. He could not guess its\nuse. He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless.\n\nNow he puzzled his head for a long time, trying unsuccessfully to recall\nthat name which had been the last word spoken by Catice.\n\nHe got up, with the intention of resuming his journey. He had no toilet\nto make, and no meal to prepare. The forest was tremendous. The nearest\ntree appeared to him to have a circumference of at least a hundred feet.\nOther dim boles looked equally large. But what gave the scene its aspect\nof immensity was the vast spaces separating tree from tree. It was\nlike some gigantic, supernatural hall in a life after death. The\nlowest branches were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was\nno underbrush; the soil was carpeted only by the dead, wet leaves. He\nlooked all around him, to find his direction, but the cliffs of Sant,\nwhich he had descended, were invisible--every way was like every other\nway, he had no idea which quarter to attack. He grew frightened, and\nmuttered to himself. Craning his neck back, he stared upward and\ntried to discover the points of the compass from the direction of the\nsunlight, but it was impossible.\n\nWhile he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum\ntaps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen\ndrummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him.\n\n\"Surtur!\" he said, under his breath. The next moment he marvelled at\nhimself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not been in his\nthoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him and the\ndrumming.\n\nHe began to reflect--but in the meantime the sounds were travelling\naway. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum\nbeats had this peculiarity--though odd and mystical, there was nothing\nawe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of some\nplace and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again\nthey caused all his other sense impressions to appear false.\n\nThe sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for\nfive minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull\nfollowed them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge,\nindistinct trees, in the attempt to come up with the origin of the\nnoise, but the same distance always seemed to separate them. The forest\nfrom now onward descended. The gradient was mostly gentle--about one\nfoot in ten--but in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts\nagain it was practically level ground for quite long stretches. There\nwere great swampy marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash.\nIt was a matter of indifference to him how wet he became--if only he\ncould catch sight of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was\ncovered, and still he was no nearer to doing so.\n\nThe gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt\ndespondent, tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some\nwhile, and was half inclined to discontinue the pursuit.\n\nPassing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against\na man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against\nthe trunk with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was\nresting on a staff. Maskull stopped short and started at him.\n\nHe was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a\nhead. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes--three in\nnumber--were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin was\nhairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils,\nand fastened like a woman\'s. His features were absolutely tranquil, but\na terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface.\n\nMaskull addressed him. \"Did the drumming come from you?\"\n\nThe man shook his head.\n\n\"What is your name?\"\n\nHe replied in a strange, strained, twisted voice. Maskull gathered that\nthe name he gave was \"Dreamsinter.\"\n\n\"What is that drumming?\"\n\n\"Surtur,\" said Dreamsinter.\n\n\"Is it advisable for me to follow it?\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Perhaps he intends me to. He brought me here from Earth.\"\n\nDreamsinter caught hold of him, bent down, and peered into his face.\n\"Not you, but Nightspore.\"\n\nThis was the first time that Maskull had heard Nightspore\'s name since\nhis arrival on the planet. He was so astonished that he could frame no\nmore questions.\n\n\"Eat this,\" said Dreamsinter. \"Then we will chase the sound together.\"\nHe picked something up from the ground and handed it to Maskull. He\ncould not see distinctly, but it felt like a hard, round nut, of the\nsize of a fist.\n\n\"I can\'t crack it.\"\n\nDreamsinter took it between his hands, and broke it into pieces. Maskull\nthen ate some of the pulpy interior, which was intensely disagreeable.\n\n\"What am I doing in Tormance, then?\" he asked.\n\n\"You came to steal Muspel-fire, to give a deeper life to men--never\ndoubting if your soul could endure that burning.\"\n\nMaskull could hardly decipher the strangled words.\n\n\"Muspel.... That\'s the name I\'ve been trying to remember ever since I\nawoke.\"\n\nDreamsinter suddenly turned his head sideways, and appeared to listen\nfor something. He motioned with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet.\n\n\"Is it the drumming?\"\n\n\"Hush! They come.\"\n\nHe was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar drum rhythm was\nheard--this time accompanied by the tramp of marching feet.\n\nMaskull saw, marching through the trees and heading toward them, three\nmen in single file separated from one another by only a yard or so. They\nwere travelling down hill at a swift pace, and looked neither to left\nnor right. They were naked. Their figures were shining against the black\nbackground of the forest with a pale, supernatural light--green and\nghostly. When they were abreast of him, about twenty feet off, he\nperceived who they were. The first man was himself--Maskull. The second\nwas Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their faces were grim and set.\n\nThe source of the drumming was out of sight. The sound appeared to come\nfrom some point in front of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves\nin motion, to keep up with the swiftly moving marchers. At the same time\na low, faint music began.\n\nIts rhythm stepped with the drum beats, but, unlike the latter, it\ndid not seem to proceed from any particular quarter of the forest. It\nresembled the subjective music heard in dreams, which accompanies the\ndreamer everywhere, as a sort of natural atmosphere, rendering all his\nexperiences emotional. It seemed to issue from an unearthly orchestra,\nand was strongly troubled, pathetic and tragic. Maskull marched, and\nlistened; and as he listened, it grew louder and stormier. But the pulse\nof the drum interpenetrated all the other sounds, like the quiet beating\nof reality.\n\nHis emotion deepened. He could not have said if minutes or hours were\npassing. The spectral procession marched on, a little way ahead, on\na path parallel with his own and Dreamsinter\'s. The music pulsated\nviolently. Krag lifted his arm, and displayed a long, murderous-looking\nknife. He sprang forward and, raising it over the phantom Maskull\'s\nback, stabbed him twice, leaving the knife in the wound the second time.\nMaskull threw up his arms, and fell down dead. Krag leaped into the\nforest and vanished from sight. Nightspore marched on alone, stern and\nunmoved.\n\nThe music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, gigantic forest was roaring\nwith sound. The tones came from all sides, from above, from the ground\nunder their feet. It was so grandly passionate that Maskull felt his\nsoul loosening from its bodily envelope.\n\nHe continued to follow Nightspore. A strange brightness began to glow in\nfront of them. It was not daylight, but a radiance such as he had never\nseen before, and such as he could not have imagined to be possible.\nNightspore moved straight toward it. Maskull felt his chest bursting.\nThe light flashed higher. The awful harmonies of the music followed hard\none upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was\nincapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over\nin a faint that resembled death.\n\n\n\nChapter 14. POLECRAB\n\nThe morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and\nopened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent\nin the forest. The strange light had gone, the music had ceased,\nDreamsinter had vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin\'s\nblood, and fell into a deep muse.\n\n\"According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. Perhaps\nDreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a specimen\nof his wisdom. It looked almost like an answer to my question.... I\nought not to have asked about myself, but about Surtur. Then I would\nhave got a different answer. I might have learned something... I might\nhave seen him.\"\n\nHe remained quiet and apathetic for a bit.\n\n\"But I couldn\'t face that awful glare,\" he proceeded. \"It was bursting\nmy body. He warned me, too. And so Surtur does really exist, and my\njourney stands for something. But why am I here, and what can I do? Who\nis Surtur? Where is he to be found?\"\n\nSomething wild came into his eyes.\n\n\"What did Dreamsinter mean by his \'Not you, but Nightspore\'? Am I a\nsecondary character--is he regarded as important; and I as unimportant?\nWhere is Nightspore, and what is he doing? Am I to wait for his time and\npleasure--can I originate nothing?\"\n\nHe continued sitting up, with straight-extended legs.\n\n\"I must make up my mind that this is a strange journey, and that the\nstrangest things will happen in it. It\'s no use making plans, for\nI can\'t see two steps ahead--everything is unknown. But one thing\'s\nevident: nothing but the wildest audacity will carry me through, and I\nmust sacrifice everything else to that. And therefore if Surtur shows\nhimself again, I shall go forward to meet him, even if it means death.\"\n\nThrough the black, quiet aisles of the forest the drum beats came\nagain. The sound was a long way off and very faint. It was like the last\nmutterings of thunder after a heavy storm. Maskull listened, without\ngetting up. The drumming faded into silence, and did not return.\n\nHe smiled queerly, and said aloud, \"Thanks, Surtur! I accept the omen.\"\n\nWhen he was about to get up, he found that the shrivelled skin that had\nbeen his third arm was flapping disconcertingly with every movement of\nhis body. He made perforations in it all around, as close to his chest\nas possible, with the fingernails of both hands; then he carefully\ntwisted it off. In that world of rapid growth and ungrowth he judged\nthat the stump would soon disappear. After that, he rose and peered into\nthe darkness.\n\nThe forest at that point sloped rather steeply and, without thinking\ntwice about it, he took the downhill direction, never doubting it would\nbring him somewhere. As soon as he started walking, his temper became\ngloomy and morose--he was shaken, tired, dirty, and languid with hunger;\nmoreover, he realised that the walk was not going to be a short one. Be\nthat as it may, he determined to sit down no more until the whole dismal\nforest was at his back.\n\nOne after another the shadowy, houselike trees were observed, avoided,\nand passed. Far overhead the little patch of glowing sky was still\nalways visible; otherwise he had no clue to the time of day. He\ncontinued tramping sullenly down the slope for many damp, slippery\nmiles--in some places through bogs. When, presently, the twilight seemed\nto thin, he guessed that the open world was not far away. The forest\ngrew more palpable and grey, and now he saw its majesty better. The tree\ntrunks were like round towers, and so wide were the intervals that they\nresembled natural amphitheatres. He could not make out the colour of\nthe bark. Everything he saw amazed him, but his admiration was of the\ngrowling, grudging kind. The difference in light between the forest\nbehind him and the forest ahead became so marked that he could no longer\ndoubt that he was on the point of coming out.\n\nReal light was in front of him; looking back, he found he had a shadow.\nThe trunks acquired a reddish tint. He quickened his pace. As the\nminutes went by, the bright patch ahead grew luminous and vivid; it had\na tinge of blue. He also imagined that he heard the sound of surf.\n\nAll that part of the forest toward which he was moving became rich with\ncolour. The boles of the trees were of a deep, dark red; their leaves,\nhigh above his head, were ulfire-hued; the dead leaves on the ground\nwere of a colour he could not name. At the same time he discovered the\nuse of his third eye. By adding a third angle to his sight, every\nobject he looked at stood out in greater relief. The world looked less\nflat--more realistic and significant. He had a stronger attraction\ntoward his surroundings; he seemed somehow to lose his egotism, and to\nbecome free and thoughtful.\n\nNow through the last trees he saw full daylight. Less than half a mile\nseparated him from the border of the forest, and, eager to discover\nwhat lay beyond, he broke into a run. He heard the surf louder. It was\na peculiar hissing sound that could proceed only from water, yet was\nunlike the sea. Almost immediately he came within sight of an enormous\nhorizon of dancing waves, which he knew must be the Sinking Sea. He fell\nback into a quick walk, continuing to stare hard. The wind that met him\nwas hot, fresh and sweet.\n\nWhen he arrived at the final fringe of forest, which joined the wide\nsands of the shore without any change of level, he leaned with his back\nto a great tree and gazed his fill, motionless, at what lay in front of\nhim. The sands continued east and west in a straight line, broken only\nhere and there by a few creeks. They were of a brilliant orange colour,\nbut there were patches of violet. The forest appeared to stand sentinel\nover the shore for its entire length. Everything else was sea and\nsky--he had never seen so much water. The semicircle of the skyline\nwas so vast that he might have imagined himself on a flat world, with\na range of vision determined only by the power of his eye. The sea was\nunlike any sea on Earth. It resembled an immense liquid opal. On a body\ncolour of rich, magnificent emerald-green, flashes of red, yellow, and\nblue were everywhere shooting up and vanishing. The wave motion was\nextraordinary. Pinnacles of water were slowly formed until they attained\na height of perhaps ten or twenty feet, when they would suddenly sink\ndownward and outward, creating in their descent a series of concentric\nrings for long distances around them. Quickly moving currents, like\nrivers in the sea, could be seen, racing away from land; they were of\na darker green and bore no pinnacles. Where the sea met the shore,\nthe waves rushed over the sands far in, with almost sinister\nrapidity--accompanied by a weird, hissing, spitting sound, which was\nwhat Maskull had heard. The green tongues rolled in without foam.\n\nAbout twenty miles distant, as he judged, directly opposite him, a\nlong, low island stood up from the sea, black and not distinguished in\noutline. It was Swaylone\'s Island. Maskull was less interested in that\nthan in the blue sunset that glowed behind its back. Alppain had\nset, but the whole northern sky was plunged into the minor key by its\nafterlight. Branchspell in the zenith was white and overpowering, the\nday was cloudless and terrifically hot; but where the blue sun had sunk,\na sombre shadow seemed to overhang the world. Maskull had a feeling\nof disintegration--just as if two chemically distinct forces were\nsimultaneously acting upon the cells of his body. Since the afterglow of\nAlppain affected him like this, he thought it more than likely that he\nwould never be able to face that sun itself, and go on living. Still,\nsome modification might happen to him that would make it possible.\n\nThe sea tempted him. He made up his mind to bathe, and at once walked\ntoward the shore. The instant he stepped outside the shadow line of the\nforest trees, the blinding rays of the sun beat down on him so savagely\nthat for a few minutes he felt sick and his head swam. He trod quickly\nacross the sands. The orange-coloured parts were nearly hot enough to\nroast food, he judged, but the violet parts were like fire itself. He\nstepped on a patch in ignorance, and immediately jumped high into the\nair with a startled yell.\n\nThe sea was voluptuously warm. It would not bear his weight, so he\ndetermined to try swimming. First of all he stripped off his skin\ngarment, washed it thoroughly with sand and water, and laid it in the\nsun to dry. Then he scrubbed himself as well as he could and washed out\nhis beard and hair. After that, he waded in a long way, until the water\nreached his breast, and took to swimming--avoiding the spouts as far\nas possible He found it no pastime. The water was everywhere of unequal\ndensity. In some places he could swim, in others he could barely save\nhimself from drowning, in others again he could not force himself\nbeneath the surface at all. There were no outward signs to show what\nthe water ahead held in store for him. The whole business was most\ndangerous.\n\nHe came out, feeling clean and invigorated. For a time he walked up and\ndown the sands, drying himself in the hot sunshine and looking around\nhim. He was a naked stranger in a huge, foreign, mystical world, and\nwhichever way he turned, unknown and threatening forces were glaring\nat him. The gigantic, white, withering Branchspell, the awful,\nbody-changing Alppain, the beautiful, deadly, treacherous sea, the dark\nand eerie Swaylone\'s Island, the spirit-crushing forest out of which he\nhad just escaped--to all these mighty powers, surrounding him on every\nside, what resources had he, a feeble, ignorant traveller to oppose,\nfrom a tiny planet on the other side of space, to avoid being utterly\ndestroyed?... Then he smiled to himself. \"I\'ve already been here two\ndays, and still I survive. I have luck--and with that one can balance\nthe universe. But what is luck--a verbal expression, or a thing?\"\n\nAs he was putting on his skin, which was now dry, the answer came to\nhim, and this time he was grave. \"Surtur brought me here, and Surtur\nis watching over me. That is my \'luck.\'... But what is Surtur in\nthis world?... How is he able to protect me against the blind and\nungovernable forces of nature? Is he stronger than Nature?...\"\n\nHungry as he was for food, he was hungrier still for human society, for\nhe wished to inquire about all these things. He asked himself which way\nhe should turn his steps. There were only two ways; along the shore,\neither east or west. The nearest creek lay to the east, cutting the\nsands about a mile away. He walked toward it.\n\nThe forest face was forbidding and enormously high. It was so squarely\nturned to the sea that it looked as though it had been planed by tools.\nMaskull strode along in the shade of the trees, but kept his head\nconstantly turned away from them, toward the sea--there it was more\ncheerful. The creek, when he reached it, proved to be broad and\nflat-banked. It was not a river, but an arm of the sea. Its still, dark\ngreen water curved around a bend out of sight, into the forest. The\ntrees on both banks overhung the water, so that it was completely in\nshadow.\n\nHe went as far as the bend, beyond which another short reach appeared.\nA man was sitting on a narrow shelf of bank, with his feet in the water.\nHe was clothed in a coarse, rough hide, which left his limbs bare. He\nwas short, thick, and sturdy, with short legs and a long, powerful arms,\nterminating in hands of an extraordinary size. He was oldish. His face\nwas plain, slablike, and expressionless; it was full of wrinkles, and\nwalnut-coloured. Both face and head were bald, and his skin was tough\nand leathery. He seemed to be some sort of peasant, or fisherman; there\nwas no trace in his face of thought for others, or delicacy of feeling.\nHe possessed three eyes, of different colors--jade-green, blue, and\nulfire.\n\nIn front of him, riding on the water, moored to the bank, was an\nelementary raft, consisting of the branches of trees, clumsily corded\ntogether.\n\nMaskull addressed him. \"Are you another of the wise men of the Wombflash\nForest?\"\n\nThe man answered him in a gruff, husky voice, looking up as he did so.\n\"I\'m a fisherman. I know nothing about wisdom.\"\n\n\"What name do you go by?\"\n\n\"Polecrab. What\'s yours?\"\n\n\"Maskull. If you\'re a fisherman, you ought to have fish. I\'m famishing.\"\n\nPolecrab grunted, and paused a minute before answering.\n\n\"There\'s fish enough. My dinner is cooking in the sands now. It\'s easy\nenough to get you some more.\"\n\nMaskull found this a pleasant speech.\n\n\"But how long will it take?\" he asked.\n\nThe man slid the palms of his hands together, producing a shrill,\nscreeching noise. He lifted his feet from the water, and clambered onto\nthe bank. In a minute or two a curious little beast came crawling up to\nhis feet, turning its face and eyes up affectionately, like a dog. It\nwas about two feet long, and somewhat resembled a small seal, but had\nsix legs, ending in strong claws.\n\n\"Arg, go fish!\" said Polecrab hoarsely.\n\nThe animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam\ngracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath\nthe surface, where it remained a great while.\n\n\"Simple fishing,\" remarked Maskull. \"But what\'s the raft for?\"\n\n\"To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable.\"\n\n\"That arg seems a highly intelligent creature.\"\n\nPolecrab grunted again. \"I\'ve trained close on a hundred of them. The\nbigheads learn best, but they\'re slow swimmers. The narrowheads\nswim like eels, but can\'t be taught. Now I\'ve started interbreeding\nthem--he\'s one of them.\"\n\n\"Do you live here alone?\"\n\n\"No, I\'ve got a wife and three boys. My wife\'s sleeping somewhere, but\nwhere the lads are, Shaping knows.\"\n\nMaskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being.\n\n\"The raft\'s all crazy,\" he remarked, staring at it. \"If you go far out\nin that, you\'ve got more pluck than I have.\"\n\n\"I\'ve been to Matterplay on it,\" said Polecrab.\n\nThe arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time\nclumsily, as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When\nit landed at its master\'s feet, they saw that each set of claws was\nclutching a fish--six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded\nto cut off the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked\nup; these he threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss.\n\nPolecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish,\nwalked toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When\nthey reached the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and\ndigging a shallow hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder\nof the carcasses in it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his\nown dinner. Maskull\'s nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was\nnot yet to dine.\n\nPolecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, \"These\nare mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me,\nsupposing you want company.\"\n\n\"How soon will that be?\"\n\n\"About twenty minutes,\" replied the fisherman, over his shoulder.\n\nMaskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When\nthe time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching\nhis fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the\nsand which was so intensely hot. Then he returned to Polecrab.\n\nIn the warm, still air and cheerful shade of the inlet, they munched in\nsilence, looking from their food to the sluggish water, and back again.\nWith every mouthful Maskull felt his strength returning. He finished\nbefore Polecrab, who ate like a man for whom time has no value. When he\nhad done, he stood up.\n\n\"Come and drink,\" he said, in his husky voice.\n\nMaskull looked at him inquiringly.\n\nThe man led him a little way into the forest, and walked straight up\nto a certain tree. At a convenient height in its trunk a hole had been\ntapped and plugged. Polecrab removed the plug and put his mouth to the\naperture, sucking for quite a long time, like a child at its mother\'s\nbreast. Maskull, watching him, imagined that he saw his eyes growing\nbrighter.\n\nWhen his own turn came to drink, he found the juice of the tree somewhat\nlike coconut milk in flavour, but intoxicating. It was a new sort\nof intoxication, however, for neither his will not his emotions were\nexcited, but only his intellect--and that only in a certain way. His\nthoughts and images were not freed and loosened, but on the contrary\nkept labouring and swelling painfully, until they reached the full\nbeauty of an aperu{sic}, which would then flame up in his consciousness,\nburst, and vanish. After that, the whole process started over again. But\nthere was never a moment when he was not perfectly cool, and master of\nhis senses. When each had drunk twice, Polecrab replugged the hole, and\nthey returned to their bank.\n\n\"Is it Blodsombre yet?\" asked Maskull, sprawling on the ground, well\ncontent.\n\nPolecrab resumed his old upright sitting posture, with his feet in the\nwater. \"Just beginning,\" was his hoarse response.\n\n\"Then I must stay here till it\'s over.... Shall we talk?\"\n\n\"We can,\" said the other, without enthusiasm.\n\nMaskull glanced at him through half-closed lids, wondering if he were\nexactly what he seemed to be. In his eyes he thought he detected a wise\nlight.\n\n\"Have you travelled much, Polecrab?\"\n\n\"Not what you would call travelling.\"\n\n\"You tell me you\'ve been to Matterplay--what kind of country is that?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know. I went there to pick up flints.\"\n\n\"What countries lie beyond it?\"\n\n\"Threal comes next, as you go north. They say it\'s a land of mystics...\nI don\'t know.\"\n\n\"Mystics?\"\n\n\"So I\'m told.... Still farther north there\'s Lichstorm.\"\n\n\"Now we\'re going far afield.\"\n\n\"There are mountains there--and altogether it must be a very dangerous\nplace, especially for a full-blooded man like you. Take care of\nyourself.\"\n\n\"This is rather premature, Polecrab. How do you know I\'m going there?\"\n\n\"As you\'ve come from the south, I suppose you\'ll go north.\"\n\n\"Well, that\'s right enough,\" said Maskull, staring hard at him. \"But how\ndo you know I\'ve come from the south?\"\n\n\"Well, then, perhaps you haven\'t--but there\'s a look of Ifdawn about\nyou.\"\n\n\"What kind of look?\"\n\n\"A tragical look,\" said Polecrab. He never even glanced at Maskull, but\nwas gazing at a fixed spot on the water with unblinking eyes.\n\n\"What lies beyond Lichstorm?\" asked Maskull, after a minute or two.\n\n\"Barey, where you have two suns instead of one--but beyond that fact I\nknow nothing about it.... Then comes the ocean.\"\n\n\"And what\'s on the other side of the ocean?\"\n\n\"That you must find out for yourself, for I doubt if anybody has ever\ncrossed it and come back.\"\n\nMaskull was silent for a little while.\n\n\"How is it that your people are so unadventurous? I seem to be the only\none travelling from curiosity.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by \'your people\'?\"\n\n\"True--you don\'t know that I don\'t belong to your planet at all. I\'ve\ncome from another world, Polecrab.\"\n\n\"What to find?\"\n\n\"I came here with Krag and Nightspore--to follow Surtur. I must have\nfainted the moment I arrived. When I sat up, it was night and the others\nhad--vanished. Since then I\'ve been travelling at random.\"\n\nPolecrab scratched his nose. \"You haven\'t found Surtur yet?\"\n\n\"I\'ve heard his drum taps frequently. In the forest this morning I came\nquite close to him. Then two days ago, in the Lusion Plain, I saw a\nvision--a being in man\'s shape, who called himself Surtur.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe it was Surtur.\"\n\n\"No, that\'s impossible,\" replied Maskull reflectively. \"It was\nCrystalman. And it isn\'t a question of my suspecting it--I know it.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Because this is Crystalman\'s world, and Surtur\'s world is something\nquite different.\"\n\n\"That\'s queer, then,\" said Polecrab.\n\n\"Since I\'ve come out of that forest,\" proceeded Maskull, talking half\nto himself, \"a change has come over me, and I see things differently.\nEverything here looks much more solid and real in my eyes than in\nother places so much so that I can\'t entertain the least doubt of its\nexistence. It not only looks real, it is real--and on that I would stake\nmy life.... But at the same time that it\'s real, it is false.\"\n\n\"Like a dream?\"\n\n\"No--not at all like a dream, and that\'s just what I want to explain.\nThis world of yours--and perhaps of mine too, for that matter--doesn\'t\ngive me the slightest impression of a dream, or an illusion, or anything\nof that sort. I know it\'s really here at this moment, and it\'s exactly\nas we\'re seeing it, you and I. Yet it\'s false. It\'s false in this sense,\nPolecrab. Side by side with it another world exists, and that other\nworld is the true one, and this one is all false and deceitful, to the\nvery core. And so it occurs to me that reality and falseness are two\nwords for the same thing.\"\n\n\"Perhaps there is such another world,\" said Polecrab huskily. \"But did\nthat vision also seem real and false to you?\"\n\n\"Very real, but not false then, for then I didn\'t understand all this.\nBut just because it was real, it couldn\'t have been Surtur, who has no\nconnection with reality.\"\n\n\"Didn\'t those drum taps sound real to you?\"\n\n\"I had to hear them with my ears, and so they sounded real to me. Still,\nthey were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. If I\ndidn\'t hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his.\"\n\nPolecrab growled a little. \"If Surtur chooses to speak to you in that\nfashion, it appears he\'s trying to say something.\"\n\n\"What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what\'s your opinion--is he\ncalling me to the life after death?\"\n\nThe old man stirred uneasily. \"I\'m a fisherman,\" he said, after a minute\nor two. \"I live by killing, and so does everybody. This life seems to me\nall wrong. So maybe life of any kind is wrong, and Surtur\'s world is not\nlife at all, but something else.\"\n\n\"Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?\"\n\n\"Ask the dead,\" said Polecrab, \"and not a living man.\"\n\nMaskull continued. \"In the forest I heard music and saw a light, which\ncould not have belonged to this world. They were too strong for my\nsenses, and I must have fainted for a long time. There was a vision as\nwell, in which I saw myself killed, while Nightspore walked on toward\nthe light, alone.\"\n\nPolecrab uttered his grunt. \"You have enough to think over.\"\n\nA short silence ensued, which was broken by Maskull.\n\n\"So strong is my sense of the untruth of this present life, that it may\ncome to my putting an end to myself.\" The fisherman remained quiet and\nimmobile.\n\nMaskull lay on his stomach, propped his face on his hands, and stared at\nhim. \"What do you think, Polecrab? Is it possible for any man, while in\nthe body, to gain a closer view of that other world than I have done?\"\n\n\"I am an ignorant man, stranger, so I can\'t say. Perhaps there are many\nothers like you who would gladly know.\"\n\n\"Where? I should like to meet them.\"\n\n\"Do you think you were made of one stuff, and the rest of mankind of\nanother stuff?\"\n\n\"I can\'t be so presumptuous. Possibly all men are reaching out toward\nMuspel, in most cases without being aware of it.\"\n\n\"In the wrong direction,\" said Polecrab.\n\nMaskull gave him a strange look. \"How so?\"\n\n\"I don\'t speak from my own wisdom,\" said Polecrab, \"for I have none; but\nI have just now recalled what Broodviol once told me, when I was a young\nman, and he was an old one. He said that Crystalman tries to turn all\nthings into one, and that whichever way his shapes march, in order\nto escape from him, they find themselves again face to face with\nCrystalman, and are changed into new crystals. But that this marching of\nshapes (which we call \'forking\') springs from the unconscious desire\nto find Surtur, but is in the opposite direction to the right one.\nFor Surtur\'s world does not lie on this side of the one, which was\nthe beginning of life, but on the other side; and to get to it we\nmust repass through the one. But this can only be by renouncing our\nself-life, and reuniting ourselves to the whole of Crystalman\'s world.\nAnd when this has been done, it is only the first stage of the journey;\nthough many good men imagine it to be the whole journey.... As far as I\ncan remember, that is what Broodviol said, but perhaps, as I was then\na young and ignorant man, I may have left out words which would explain\nhis meaning better.\"\n\nMaskull, who had listened attentively to all this, remained thoughtful\nat the end.\n\n\"It\'s plain enough,\" he said. \"But what did he mean by our reuniting\nourselves to Crystalman\'s world? If it is false, are we to make\nourselves false as well?\"\n\n\"I didn\'t ask him that question, and you are as well qualified to answer\nit as I am.\"\n\n\"He must have meant that, as it is, we are each of us living in a false,\nprivate world of our own, a world of dreams and appetites and distorted\nperceptions. By embracing the great world we certainly lose nothing in\ntruth and reality.\"\n\nPolecrab withdrew his feet from the water, stood up, yawned, and\nstretched his limbs.\n\n\"I have told you all I know,\" he said in a surly voice. \"Now let me go\nto sleep.\"\n\nMaskull kept his eyes fixed on him, but made no reply. The old man let\nhimself down stiffly on to the ground, and prepared to rest.\n\nWhile he was still arranging his position to his liking, a footfall\nsounded behind the two men, coming from the direction of the forest.\nMaskull twisted his neck, and saw a woman approaching them. He at once\nguessed that it was Polecrab\'s wife. He sat up, but the fisherman did\nnot stir. The woman came and stood in front of them, looking down from\nwhat appeared a great height.\n\nHer dress was similar to her husband\'s, but covered her limbs more. She\nwas young, tall, slender, and strikingly erect. Her skin was lightly\ntanned, and she looked strong, but not at all peasantlike. Refinement\nwas stamped all over her. Her face had too much energy of expression for\na woman, and she was not beautiful. Her three great eyes kept flashing\nand glowing. She had great masses of fine, yellow hair, coiled up and\nfastened, but so carelessly that some of the strands were flowing down\nher back.\n\nWhen she spoke, it was in a rather weak voice, but full of lights and\nshades, and somehow intense passionateness never seemed to be far away\nfrom it.\n\n\"Forgiveness is asked for listening to your conversation,\" she said,\naddressing Maskull. \"I was resting behind the tree, and heard it all.\"\n\nHe got up slowly. \"Are you Polecrab\'s wife?\"\n\n\"She is my wife,\" said Polecrab, \"and her name is Gleameil. Sit down\nagain, stranger--and you too, wife, since you are here.\"\n\nThey both obeyed. \"I heard everything,\" repeated Gleameil. \"But what I\ndid not hear was where you are going to, Maskull, after you have left\nus.\"\n\n\"I know no more than you do.\"\n\n\"Listen, then. There\'s only one place for you to go to, and that is\nSwaylone\'s Island. I will ferry you across myself before sunset.\"\n\n\"What shall I find there?\"\n\n\"He may go, wife,\" put in the old man hoarsely, \"but I won\'t allow you\nto go. I will take him over myself.\"\n\n\"No, you have always put me off,\" said Gleameil, with some emotion.\n\"This time I mean to go. When Teargeld shines at night, and I sit on the\nshore here, listening to Earthrid\'s music travelling faintly across the\nsea, I am tortured--I can\'t endure it.... I have long since made up my\nmind to go to the island, and see what this music is. If it\'s bad, if it\nkills me--well.\"\n\n\"What have I to do with the man and his music, Gleameil?\" demanded\nMaskull.\n\n\"I think the music will answer all your questions better than Polecrab\nhas done--and possibly in a way that will surprise you.\"\n\n\"What kind of music can it be to travel all those miles across the sea?\"\n\n\"A peculiar kind, so we are told. Not pleasant, but painful. And the man\nthat can play the instrument of Earthrid would be able to conjure up the\nmost astonishing forms, which are not phantasms, but realities.\"\n\n\"That may be so,\" growled Polecrab. \"But I have been to the island by\ndaylight, and what did I find there? Human bones, new and ancient. Those\nare Earthrid\'s victims. And you, wife, shall not go.\"\n\n\"But will that music play tonight?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Gleameil, gazing at him intently. \"When Teargeld rises,\nwhich is our moon.\"\n\n\"If Earthrid plays men to death, it appears to me that his own death is\ndue. In any case I should like to hear those sounds for myself. But as\nfor taking you with me, Gleameil--women die too easily in Tormance. I\nhave only just now washed myself clean of the death blood of another\nwoman.\"\n\nGleameil laughed, but said nothing.\n\n\"Now go to sleep,\" said Polecrab. \"When the time comes, I will take you\nacross myself.\"\n\nHe lay down again, and closed his eyes. Maskull followed his example;\nbut Gleameil remained sitting erect, with her legs under her.\n\n\"Who was that other woman, Maskull?\" she asked presently.\n\nHe did not answer, but pretended to sleep.\n\n\n\nChapter 15. SWALONE\'S ISLAND\n\nWhen he awoke, the day was not so bright, and he guessed it was late\nafternoon. Polecrab and his wife were both on their feet, and another\nmeal of fish had been cooked and was waiting for him.\n\n\"Is it decided who is to go with me?\" he asked, before sitting down.\n\n\"I go,\" said Gleameil.\n\n\"Do you agree, Polecrab?\"\n\nThe fisherman growled a little in his throat and motioned to the others\nto take their seats. He took a mouthful before answering.\n\n\"Something strong is attracting her, and I can\'t hold her back. I don\'t\nthink I shall see you again, wife, but the lads are now nearly old\nenough to fend for themselves.\"\n\n\"Don\'t take dejected views,\" replied Gleameil sternly. She was not\neating. \"I shall come back, and make amends to you. It\'s only for a\nnight.\"\n\nMaskull gazed from one to the other in perplexity. \"Let me go alone. I\nwould be sorry if anything happened.\"\n\nGleameil shook her head.\n\n\"Don\'t regard this as a woman\'s caprice,\" she said. \"Even if you hadn\'t\npassed this way, I would have heard that music soon. I have a hunger for\nit.\"\n\n\"Haven\'t you any such feeling, Polecrab?\"\n\n\"No. A woman is a noble and sensitive creature, and there are\nattractions in nature too subtle for males. Take her with you, since she\nis set on it. Maybe she\'s right. Perhaps Earthrid\'s music will answer\nyour questions, and hers too.\"\n\n\"What are your questions, Gleameil?\"\n\nThe woman shed a strange smile. \"You may be sure that a question which\nrequires music for an answer can\'t be put into words.\"\n\n\"If you are not back by the morning,\" remarked her husband, \"I will know\nyou are dead.\"\n\nThe meal was finished in a constrained silence. Polecrab wiped his\nmouth, and produced a seashell from a kind of pocket.\n\n\"Will you say goodbye to the boys? Shall I call them?\" She considered a\nmoment.\n\n\"Yes--yes, I must see them.\"\n\nHe put the shell to his mouth, and blew; a loud, mournful noise passed\nthrough the air.\n\nA few minutes later there was a sound of scurrying footsteps, and the\nboys were seen emerging from the forest. Maskull looked with curiosity\nat the first children he had seen on Tormance. The oldest boy was\ncarrying the youngest on his back, while the third trotted some distance\nbehind. The child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle\nin front of Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes.\nPolecrab looked on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with\nproudly raised head and a baffling expression.\n\nMaskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years,\nrespectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time. The eldest\nwas tall, slim, but strongly built. He, like his brothers, was naked,\nand his skin from top to toe was ulfire-colored. His facial muscles\nindicated a wild and daring nature, and his eyes were like green fires.\nThe second showed promise of being a broad, powerful man. His head was\nlarge and heavy, and drooped. His face and skin were reddish. His eyes\nwere almost too sombre and penetrating for a child\'s.\n\n\"That one,\" said Polecrab, pinching the boy\'s ear, \"may perhaps grow up\nto be a second Broodviol.\"\n\n\"Who was that?\" demanded the boy, bending his head forward to hear the\nanswer.\n\n\"A big, old man, of marvellous wisdom. He became wise by making up his\nmind never to ask questions, but to find things out for himself.\"\n\n\"If I had not asked this question, I should not have known about him.\"\n\n\"That would not have mattered,\" replied the father.\n\nThe youngest child was paler and slighter than his brothers. His face\nwas mostly tranquil and expressionless, but it had this peculiarity\nabout it, that every few minutes, without any apparent cause, it would\nwrinkle up and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a\ntawny gold, seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of\nhis age.\n\n\"He puzzles me,\" said Polecrab. \"He has a soul like sap, and he\'s\ninterested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most remarkable of the\nbunch.\"\n\nMaskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his\nhead. He took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never\nchanged countenance.\n\n\"What do you make of him?\" asked the fisherman.\n\n\"It\'s on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. Let me\ndrink again, and then I shall have it.\"\n\n\"Go and drink, then.\"\n\nMaskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. \"In ages to come,\"\nhe said, speaking deliberately, \"he will be a grand and awful tradition.\nA seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well.\"\n\nThe eldest boy looked scornful. \"I want to be none of those things. I\nwould like to be like that big fellow.\" And he pointed his finger at\nMaskull.\n\nHe laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. \"Thanks for\nthe compliments old warrior!\" he said.\n\n\"He\'s great and brawny,\" continued the boy, \"and can hold his own with\nother men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you did that child?\"\n\nMaskull complied.\n\n\"That is being a man!\" exclaimed the boy. \"Enough!\" said Polecrab\nimpatiently. \"I called you lads here to say goodbye to your mother. She\nis going away with this man. I think she may not return, but we don\'t\nknow.\"\n\nThe second boy\'s face became suddenly inflamed. \"Is she going of her own\nchoice?\" he inquired.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the father.\n\n\"Then she is bad.\" He brought the words out with such force and emphasis\nthat they sounded like the crack of a whip.\n\nThe old man cuffed him twice. \"Is it your mother you are speaking of?\"\n\nThe boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said\nnothing.\n\nThe youngest child spoke, for the first time. \"My mother will not come\nback, but she will die dancing.\"\n\nPolecrab and his wife looked at one another.\n\n\"Where are you going to, Mother?\" asked the eldest lad.\n\nGleameil bent down, and kissed him. \"To the Island.\"\n\n\"Well then, if you don\'t come back by tomorrow morning, I will go and\nlook for you.\"\n\nMaskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. \"This seems to me to be\na man\'s journey,\" he said. \"I think it would be better for you not to\ncome, Gleameil.\"\n\n\"I am not to be dissuaded,\" she replied.\n\nHe stroked his beard in perplexity. \"Is it time to start?\"\n\n\"It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that.\"\n\nMaskull sighed. \"I\'ll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait there for\nyou and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, Gleameil.\"\n\nHe then clasped Polecrab by the hand. \"Adieu, fisherman!\"\n\n\"You have repaid me well for my answers,\" said the old man gruffly. \"But\nit\'s not your fault, and in Shaping\'s world the worst things happen.\"\n\nThe eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. \"Farewell, big\nman!\" he said. \"But guard my mother well, as well as you are well able\nto, or I shall follow you, and kill you.\"\n\nMaskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The\nglorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes\nagain; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far\nas the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled\non to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of\nAlppain had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating\nwind, listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea\nwith its pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone\'s Island.\n\n\"What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all she\nloves the most?\" he meditated. \"It sounds unholy. Will it tell me what I\nwant to know? Can it?\"\n\nIn a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning\nhis head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea.\nPolecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He\npassed by Maskull, without looking at him, or making any salutation, and\nproceeded out to sea.\n\nWhile he was wondering at this strange behaviour, Gleameil and the boys\ncame in sight, walking along the bank of the inlet. The eldest-born was\nholding her hand, and talking; and the other two were behind. She was\ncalm and smiling, but seemed abstracted.\n\n\"What is your husband doing with the raft?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"He\'s putting it in position and we shall wade out and join it,\" she\nanswered, in her low-toned voice.\n\n\"But how shall we make the island, without oars or sails?\"\n\n\"Don\'t you see that current running away from land? See, he is\napproaching it. That will take us straight there.\"\n\n\"But how can you get back?\"\n\n\"There is a way; but we need not think of that today.\"\n\n\"Why shouldn\'t I come too?\" demanded the eldest boy.\n\n\"Because the raft won\'t carry three. Maskull is a heavy man.\"\n\n\"It doesn\'t matter,\" said the boy. \"I know where there is wood for\nanother raft. As soon as you have gone, I shall set to work.\"\n\nPolecrab had by this time manoeuvred his flimsy craft to the position he\ndesired, within a few yards of the current, which at that point made\na sharp bend from the east. He shouted out some words to his wife and\nMaskull. Gleameil kissed her children convulsively, and broke down a\nlittle. The eldest boy bit his lip till it bled, and tears glistened in\nhis eyes; but the younger children stared wide-eyed, and displayed no\nemotion.\n\nGleameil now walked into the sea, followed by Maskull. The water covered\nfirst their ankles, then their knees, but when it came as high as their\nwaists, they were close on the raft. Polecrab let himself down into the\nwater, and assisted his wife to climb over the side. When she was up,\nshe bent down and kissed him. No words were exchanged. Maskull scrambled\nup on to the front part of the raft. The woman sat cross-legged in the\nstem, and seized the pole.\n\nPolecrab shoved them off toward the current, while she worked her pole\nuntil they had got within its power. The raft immediately began to\ntravel swiftly away from land, with a smooth, swaying motion.\n\nThe boys waved from the shore. Gleameil responded; but Maskull turned\nhis back squarely to land, and gazed ahead. Polecrab was wading back to\nthe shore.\n\nFor upward of an hour Maskull did not change his position by an inch. No\nsound was heard but the splashing of the strange waves all around\nthem, and the streamlike gurgle of the current, which threaded its way\nsmoothly through the tossing, tumultuous sea. From their pathway of\nsafety, the beautiful dangers surrounding them were an exhilarating\nexperience. The air was fresh and clean, and the heat from Branchspell,\nnow low in the west, was at last endurable. The riot of sea colors had\nlong since banished all sadness and anxiety from his heart. Yet he felt\nsuch a grudge against the woman for selfishly forsaking those who\nshould have been dear to her that he could not bring himself to begin a\nconversation.\n\nBut when, over the now enlarged shape of the dark island, he caught\nsight of a long chain of lofty, distant mountains, glowing salmon-pink\nin the evening sunlight, he felt constrained to break the silence by\ninquiring what they were.\n\n\"It is Lichstorm,\" said Gleameil.\n\nMaskull asked no questions about it; but in turning to address her,\nhis eyes had rested on the rapidly receding Wombflash Forest, and he\ncontinued to stare at that. They had travelled about eight miles,\nand now he could better estimate the enormous height of the trees.\nOvertopping them, far away, he saw Sant; and he fancied, but was not\nquite sure, that he could distinguish Disscourn as well.\n\n\"Now that we are alone in a strange place,\" said Gleameil, averting her\nhead, and looking down over the side of the raft into the water, \"tell\nme what you thought of Polecrab.\"\n\nMaskull paused before answering. \"He seemed to me like a mountain\nwrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all.\nBut then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of\nmore mountain--and even then it is not the top.\"\n\n\"You read character well, and have great perception,\" remarked Gleameil\nquietly. \"Now say what I am.\"\n\n\"In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that\'s all I know\nabout you.\"\n\n\"What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?\"\n\n\"You heard.\"\n\n\"Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and\nboys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world\nfor me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear\nall false and vulgar.\"\n\n\"Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to satisfy\nour self-nature at the expense of other people?\"\n\n\"No, it\'s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other world\nthese words have no meaning.\"\n\nThere was a silence.\n\n\"It\'s useless to discuss such topics,\" said Maskull. \"The choice is now\nout of our hands, and we must go where we are taken. What I would rather\nspeak about is what awaits us on the island.\"\n\n\"I am ignorant--except that we shall find Earthrid there.\"\n\n\"Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone\'s Island?\"\n\n\"They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about him.\nAs for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.\"\n\n\"If you please,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"In a far-back age,\" began Gleameil, \"when the seas were hot, and clouds\nhung heavily over the earth, and life was rich with transformations,\nSwaylone came to this island, on which men had never before set foot,\nand began to play his music--the first music in Tormance. Nightly,\nwhen the moon shone, people used to gather on this shore behind us,\nand listen to the faint, sweet strains floating from over the sea.\nOne night, Shaping (whom you call Crystalman) was passing this way in\ncompany with Krag. They listened a while to the music, and Shaping said\n\'Have you heard more beautiful sounds? This is my world and my music.\'\nKrag stamped with his foot, and laughed. \'You must do better than that,\nif I am to admire it. Let us pass over, and see this bungler at work.\'\nShaping consented, and they passed over to the island. Swaylone was\nnot able to see their presence. Shaping stood behind him, and breathed\nthoughts into his soul, so that his music became ten times lovelier,\nand people listening on that shore went mad with sick delight. \'Can any\nstrains be nobler?\' demanded Shaping. Krag grinned and said, \'You are\nnaturally effeminate. Now let me try.\' Then he stood behind Swaylone,\nand shot ugly discords fast into his head. His instrument was so\ncracked, that never since has it played right. From that time forth\nSwaylone could utter only distorted music; yet it called to folk more\nthan the other sort. Many men crossed over to the island during his\nlifetime, to listen to the amazing tones, but none could endure them;\nall died. After Swaylone\'s death, another musician took up the tale;\nand so the light has passed down from torch to torch, till now Earthrid\nbears it.\"\n\n\"An interesting legend,\" commented Maskull. \"But who is Krag?\"\n\n\"They say that when the world was born, Krag was born with it--a spirit\ncompounded of those vestiges of Muspel which Shaping did not know how to\ntransform. Thereafter nothing has gone right with the world, for he dogs\nShaping\'s footsteps everywhere, and whatever the latter does, he undoes.\nTo love he joins death; to sex, shame; to intellect, madness; to virtue,\ncruelty; and to fair exteriors, bloody entrails. These are Krag\'s\nactions, so the lovers of the world call him \'devil.\' They don\'t\nunderstand, Maskull, that without him the world would lose its beauty.\"\n\n\"Krag and beauty!\" exclaimed he, with a cynical smile.\n\n\"Even so. That same beauty which you and I are now voyaging to discover.\nThat beauty for whose sake I am renouncing husband, children, and\nhappiness.... Did you imagine beauty to be pleasant?\"\n\n\"Surely.\"\n\n\"That pleasant beauty is an insipid compound of Shaping. To see beauty\nin its terrible purity, you must tear away the pleasure from it.\"\n\n\"Do you say I am going to seek beauty, Gleameil? Such an idea is far\nfrom my mind.\"\n\nShe did not respond to his remark. After waiting for a few minutes,\nto hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more.\nThere was no more talk until they reached the island.\n\nThe air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores.\nBranchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared\nto be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all\nbroad sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness\nof insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The\ncurrent bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a\nsharp angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land.\n\nGleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed\nher example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the\ncurrent. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the\nway. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set.\n\nGleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a\nsingle glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed\nher. The cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and\neasy, while the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon.\n\nA little way off, on their left, something white was shining.\n\n\"You need not go to it,\" said the woman. \"It can be nothing else than\none of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look--there is another\none over there!\"\n\n\"This brings it home!\" remarked Maskull, smiling.\n\n\"There is nothing comical in having died for beauty,\" said Gleameil,\nbending her brows at him.\n\nAnd when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones,\nfrom gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it\nwere a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell\ninto a sombre mood.\n\nIt was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set\neyes on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way\ndifferent from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were\nfast becoming invisible.\n\n\"That is Matterplay,\" said the woman, pointing her finger toward some\nlow land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off than\nWombflash.\n\n\"I wonder how Digrung passed over,\" meditated Maskull.\n\nNot far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they\nsaw a small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The\nsunset colors of the sky were reflected in its waters.\n\n\"That must be Irontick,\" remarked Gleameil.\n\n\"What is that?\"\n\n\"I have heard that it\'s the instrument Earthrid plays on.\"\n\n\"We are getting close,\" responded he. \"Let us go and investigate.\"\n\nWhen they drew nearer, they observed that a man was reclining on the\nfarther side, in an attitude of sleep.\n\n\"If that\'s not the man himself, who can it be?\" said Maskull. \"Let\'s get\nacross the water, if it will bear us; it will save time.\"\n\nHe now assumed the lead, and took running strides down the slope which\nbounded the lake on that side. Gleameil followed him with greater\ndignity, keeping her eyes fixed on the recumbent man as if fascinated.\nWhen Maskull reached the water\'s edge, he tried it with one foot,\nto discover if it would carry his weight. Something unusual in its\nappearance led him to have doubts. It was a tranquil, dark, and\nbeautifully reflecting sheet of water; it resembled a mirror of liquid\nmetal. Finding that it would bear him, and that nothing happened, he\nplaced his second foot on its surface. Instantly he sustained a violent\nshock throughout his body, as from a powerful electric current; and he\nwas hurled in a tumbled heap back on to the bank.\n\nHe picked himself up, brushed the dirt off his person, and started\nwalking around the lake. Gleameil joined him, and they completed the\nhalf circuit together. They came to the man, and Maskull prodded him\nwith his foot. He woke up, and blinked at them.\n\nHis face was pale, weak, and vacant-looking, and had a disagreeable\nexpression. There were thin sprouts of black hair on his chin and head.\nOn his forehead, in place of a third eye, he possessed a perfectly\ncircular organ, with elaborate convolutions, like an ear. He had an\nunpleasant smell. He appeared to be of young middle age.\n\n\"Wake up, man,\" said Maskull sharply, \"and tell us if you are Earthrid.\"\n\n\"What time is it?\" counterquestioned the man. \"Does it want long to\nmoonrise?\"\n\nWithout appearing to care about an answer, he sat up, and turning away\nfrom them, began to scoop up the loose soil with his hand, and to eat it\nhalfheartedly.\n\n\"Now, how can you eat that filth?\" demanded Maskull, in disgust.\n\n\"Don\'t be angry, Maskull,\" said Gleameil, laying hold of his arm, and\nflushing a little. \"It is Earthrid--the man who is to help us.\"\n\n\"He has not said so.\"\n\n\"I am Earthrid,\" said the other, in his weak and muffled voice, which,\nhowever, suddenly struck Maskull as being autocratic. \"What do you want\nhere? Or rather, you had better get away as quickly as you can, for it\nwill be too late when Teargeld rises.\"\n\n\"You need not explain,\" exclaimed Maskull. \"We know your reputation,\nand we have come to hear your music. But what\'s that organ for on your\nforehead?\"\n\nEarthrid glared, and smiled, and glared again.\n\n\"That is for rhythm, which is what changes noise into music. Don\'t stand\nand argue, but go away. It is no pleasure to me to people the island\nwith corpses. They corrupt the air, and do nothing else.\"\n\nDarkness now crept swiftly on over the landscape.\n\n\"You are rather bigmouthed,\" said Maskull coolly. \"But after we have\nheard you play, perhaps I shall adventure a tune myself.\"\n\n\"You? Are you a musician, then? Do you even know what music is?\"\n\nA flame danced in Gleameil\'s eyes.\n\n\"Maskull thinks music reposes in the instrument,\" she said in her\nintense way. \"But it is in the soul of the Master.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Earthrid, \"but that is not all. I will tell you what it is.\nIn Threal, where I was born and brought up, we learn the mystery of the\nThree in nature. This world, which lies extended before us, has three\ndirections. Length is the line which shuts off what is, from what is\nnot. Breadth is the surface which shows us in what manner one thing of\nwhat-is, lives with another thing. Depth is the path which leads\nfrom what-is, to our own body. In music it is not otherwise. Tone is\nexistence, without which nothing at all can be. Symmetry and Numbers\nare the manner in which tones exist, one with another. Emotion is the\nmovement of our soul toward the wonderful world that is being created.\nNow, men when they make music are accustomed to build beautiful tones,\nbecause of the delight they cause. Therefore their music world is based\non pleasure; its symmetry is regular and charming, its emotion is sweet\nand lovely.... But my music is founded on painful tones; and thus its\nsymmetry is wild, and difficult to discover; its emotion is bitter and\nterrible.\"\n\n\"If I had not anticipated its being original, I would not have come\nhere,\" said Maskull. \"Still, explain--why can\'t harsh tones have simple\nsymmetry of form? And why must they necessarily cause more profound\nemotions in us who listen?\"\n\n\"Pleasures may harmonise. Pains must clash; and in the order of their\nclashing lies the symmetry. The emotions follow the music, which is\nrough and earnest.\"\n\n\"You may call it music,\" remarked Maskull thoughtfully, \"but to me it\nbears a closer resemblance to actual life.\"\n\n\"If Shaping\'s plans had gone straight, life would have been like that\nother sort of music. He who seeks can find traces of that intention in\nthe world of nature. But as it has turned out, real life resembles my\nmusic and mine is the true music.\"\n\n\"Shall we see living shapes?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know what my mood will be,\" returned Earthrid. \"But when I have\nfinished, you shall adventure your tune, and produce whatever shapes you\nplease--unless, indeed, the tune is out of your own big body.\"\n\n\"The shocks you are preparing may kill us,\" said Gleameil, in a low,\ntaut voice, \"but we shall die, seeing beauty.\"\n\nEarthrid looked at her with a dignified expression.\n\n\"Neither you, nor any other person, can endure the thoughts which I put\ninto my music. Still, you must have it your own way. It needed a woman\nto call it \'beauty.\' But if this is beauty, what is ugliness?\"\n\n\"That I can tell you, Master,\" replied Gleameil, smiling at him.\n\"Ugliness is old, stale life, while yours every night issues fresh from\nthe womb of nature.\"\n\nEarthrid stared at her, without response. \"Teargeld is rising,\" he said\nat last. \"And now you shall see--though not for long.\"\n\nAs the words left his mouth, the full moon peeped over the hills in the\ndark eastern sky. They watched it in silence, and soon it was wholly\nup. It was larger than the moon of Earth, and seemed nearer. Its shadowy\nparts stood out in just as strong relief, but somehow it did not give\nMaskull the impression of being a dead world. Branchspell shone on\nthe whole of it, but Alppain only on a part. The broad crescent that\nreflected Branchspell\'s rays alone was white and brilliant; but the part\nthat was illuminated by both suns shone with a greenish radiance that\nhad almost solar power, and yet was cold and cheerless. On gazing at\nthat combined light, he felt the same sense of disintegration that the\nafterglow of Alppain had always caused in him; but now the feeling was\nnot physical, but merely aesthetic. The moon did not appear romantic to\nhim, but disturbing and mystical.\n\nEarthrid rose, and stood quietly for a minute. In the bright moonlight,\nhis face seemed to have undergone a change. It lost its loose, weak,\ndisagreeable look, and acquired a sort of crafty grandeur. He clapped\nhis hands together meditatively two or three times, and walked up and\ndown. The others stood together, watching him.\n\nThen he sat down by the side of the lake, and, leaning on his side,\nplaced his right hand, open palm downward, on the ground, at the same\ntime stretching out his right leg, so that the foot was in contact with\nthe water.\n\nWhile Maskull was in the act of staring at him and at the lake, he felt\na stabbing sensation right through his heart, as though he had been\npierced by a rapier. He barely recovered himself from falling, and as\nhe did so he saw that a spout had formed on the water, and was now\nsubsiding again. The next moment he was knocked down by a violent blow\nin the mouth, delivered by an invisible hand. He picked himself up; and\nobserved that a second spout had formed. No sooner was he on his legs,\nthan a hideous pain hammered away inside his brain, as if caused by a\nmalignant tumour. In his agony, he stumbled and fell again; this time on\nthe arm Krag had wounded. All his other mishaps were forgotten in this\none, which half stunned him. It lasted only a moment, and then sudden\nrelief came, and he found that Earthrid\'s rough music had lost its power\nover him.\n\nHe saw him still stretched in the same position. Spouts were coming\nthick and fast on the lake, which was full of lively motion. But\nGleameil was not on her legs. She was lying on the ground, in a heap,\nwithout moving. Her attitude was ugly, and he guessed she was dead. When\nhe reached her, he discovered that she was dead. In what state of mind\nshe had died, he did not know, for her face wore the vulgar Crystalman\ngrin. The whole tragedy had not lasted five minutes.\n\nHe went over to Earthrid and dragged him forcibly away from his playing.\n\n\"You have been as good as your word, musician,\" he said. \"Gleameil is\ndead.\"\n\nEarthrid tried to collect his scattered senses.\n\n\"I warned her,\" he replied, sitting up. \"Did I not beg her to go away?\nBut she died very easily. She did not wait for the beauty she spoke\nabout. She heard nothing of the passion, nor even of the rhythm. Neither\nhave you.\"\n\nMaskull looked down at him in indignation, but said nothing.\n\n\"You should not have interrupted me,\" went on Earthrid. \"When I am\nplaying, nothing else is of importance. I might have lost the thread of\nmy ideas. Fortunately, I never forget. I shall start over again.\"\n\n\"If music is to continue, in the presence of the dead, I play next.\"\n\nThe man glanced up quickly.\n\n\"That can\'t be.\"\n\n\"It must be,\" said Maskull decisively. \"I prefer playing to listening.\nAnother reason is that you will have every night, but I have only\ntonight.\"\n\nEarthrid clenched and unclenched his fist, and began to turn pale. \"With\nyour recklessness, you are likely to kill us both. Irontick belongs to\nme, and until you have learned how to play, you would only break the\ninstrument.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I will break it; but I am going to try.\"\n\nThe musician jumped to his feet and confronted him. \"Do you intend to\ntake it from me by violence?\"\n\n\"Keep calm! You will have the same choice that you offered us. I shall\ngive you time to go away somewhere.\"\n\n\"How will that serve me, if you spoil my lake? You don\'t understand what\nyou are doing.\"\n\n\"Go, or stay!\" responded Maskull. \"I give you till the water gets smooth\nagain. After that, I begin playing.\"\n\nEarthrid kept swallowing. He glanced at the lake and back to Maskull.\n\n\"Do you swear it?\"\n\n\"How long that will take, you know better than I; but till then you are\nsafe.\"\n\nEarthrid cast him a look of malice, hesitated for an instant, and then\nmoved away, and started to climb the nearest hill. Halfway up he glanced\nover his shoulder apprehensively, as if to see what was happening. In\nanother minute or so, he had disappeared over the crest, travelling in\nthe direction of the shore that faced Matterplay.\n\nLater, when the water was once more tranquil. Maskull sat down by its\nedge, in imitation of Earthrid\'s attitude. He knew neither how to set\nabout producing his music, nor what would come of it. But audacious\nprojects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes--and,\nabove all, one shape, that of Surtur.\n\nBefore putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in\nhis mind.\n\nHe said, \"What themes are in common music, shapes are in this music. The\ncomposer does not find his theme by picking out single notes; but the\nwhole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration. So it must be with\nshapes. When I start playing, if I am worth anything, the undivided\nideas will pass from my unconscious mind to this lake, and then,\nreflected back in the dimensions of reality, I shall be for the first\ntime made acquainted with them. So it must be.\"\n\nThe instant his foot touched the water, he felt his thoughts flowing\nfrom him. He did not know what they were, but the mere act of flowing\ncreated a sensation of joyful mastery. With this was curiosity to learn\nwhat they would prove to be. Spouts formed on the lake in increasing\nnumbers, but he experienced no pain. His thoughts, which he knew to\nbe music, did not issue from him in a steady, unbroken stream, but in\ngreat, rough gushes, succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these\ngushes came, the whole lake broke out in an eruption of spouts.\n\nHe realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his\nintellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will.\nHe could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to\nforce them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition.\n\nAt first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a\nstrange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased\nso imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the\nMuspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not\ngive it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and\nsacred awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The\nspouts thickened like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high.\nTeargeld looked faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast\nno shadows. The wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm.\nShortly afterward it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He\nsaw no shapes, and redoubled his efforts.\n\nHis ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole\nsoul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not\nknow their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills\nbegan to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from\ntheir bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the\nlandscape had altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon\ndisappeared entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying,\nbut Maskull played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would\ntake shape. The hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping\nfrom the tops of the spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was\ndry.\n\nThe radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that\nit was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was\nbecoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He\nstrained and strained....\n\nImmediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell\nthrough, and his instrument was broken.\n\nThe Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could\nnot see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in\ntotal blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a dead silence.\nHis thoughts finished flowing toward the lake, and his foot no longer\ntouched water, but hung in space.\n\nHe was too stunned by the suddenness of the change to either think or\nfeel. While he was still lying dazed, a vast explosion occurred in the\nnewly opened depths beneath the lakebed. The water in its descent had\nmet fire. Maskull was lifted bodily in the air, many yards high, and\ncame down heavily. He lost consciousness....\n\n\n\nWhen he came to his senses again, he saw everything. Teargeld was\ngleaming brilliantly. He was lying by the side of the old lake, but it\nwas now a crater, to the bottom of which his eyes could not penetrate.\nThe hills encircling it were torn, as if by heavy gunfire. A few\nthunderclouds were floating in the air at no great height, from which\nbranched lightning descended to the earth incessantly, accompanied by\nalarming and singular crashes.\n\nHe got on his legs, and tested his actions. Finding that he was\nuninjured, he first of all viewed the crater at closer quarters, and\nthen started to walk painfully toward the northern shore.\n\nWhen he had attained the crest above the lake, the landscape sloped\ngently down for two miles to the sea. Everywhere he passed through\ntraces of his rough work. The country was carved into scarps, grooves,\nchannels, and craters. He arrived at the line of low cliffs overlooking\nthe beach, and found that these also were partly broken down by\nlandslips. He got down onto the sand and stood looking over the moonlit,\nagitated sea, wondering how he could contrive to escape from this island\nof failure.\n\nThen he saw Earthrid\'s body, lying quite close to him. It was on its\nback. Both legs had been violently torn off and he could not see\nthem anywhere. Earthrid\'s teeth were buried in the flesh of his right\nforearm, indicating that the man had died in unreasoning physical agony.\nThe skin gleamed green in the moonlight, but it was stained by darker\ndiscolourations, which were wounds. The sand about him was dyed by the\npool of blood which had long since filtered through.\n\nMaskull left the corpse in dismay, and walked a long way along the\nsweet-smelling shore. Sitting down on a rock, he waited for daybreak.\n\n\n\nChapter 16. LEEHALLFAE\n\nAt midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow\nstraight toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day,\nhe saw a great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty\nfeet out of the water, upright, and alive, and its roots must have been\nenormously deep and wide. It was drifting along the coast, through\nthe heavy seas. Maskull eyed it incuriously for a few minutes. Then it\ndawned on him that it might be a good thing to investigate its nature.\nWithout stopping to weigh the danger, he immediately swam out, caught\nhold of the lowest branch, and swung himself up.\n\nHe looked aloft and saw that the main stem was thick to the very top,\nterminating in a knob that somewhat resembled a human head. He made\nhis way toward this knob, through the multitude of boughs, which were\ncovered with tough, slippery, marine leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at\nthe crown, he found that it actually was a sort of head, for there were\nmembranes like rudimentary eyes all the way around it, denoting some\nform of low intelligence.\n\nAt that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore,\nand began to bump heavily. To steady himself, Maskull put his hand out,\nand, in doing so, accidentally covered some of the membranes. The tree\nsheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was steady again,\nMaskull removed his hand; they at once drifted back to shore. He thought\na bit, and then started experimenting with the eyelike membranes. It was\nas he had guessed--these eyes were stimulated by the light of the moon,\nand whichever way the light came from, the tree would travel.\n\nA rather defiant smile crossed Maskull\'s face as it struck him that\nit might be possible to navigate this huge plant-animal as far as\nMatterplay. He lost no time in putting the conception into execution.\nTearing off some of the long, tough leaves, he bound up all the\nmembranes except the ones that faced the north. The tree instantly left\nthe island, and definitely put out to sea. It travelled due north. It\nwas not moving at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay\nwas possibly forty miles distant.\n\nThe great spout waves fell against the trunk with mighty thuds; the\nbreaking seas hissed through the lower branches--Maskull rested high and\ndry, but was more than a little apprehensive about their slow rate\nof progress. Presently he sighted a current racing along toward the\nnorth-west, and that put another idea into his head. He began to juggle\nwith the membranes again, and before long had succeeded in piloting his\ntree into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were fairly in its\nrapids, he blinded the crown entirely, and thenceforward the current\nacted in the double capacity of road and steed.\n\nMaskull made himself secure among the branches and slept for the\nremainder of the night.\n\nWhen his eyes opened again, the island was out of sight. Teargeld was\nsetting in the western sea. The sky in the east was bright with the\ncolours of the approaching day. The air was cool and fresh; the light\nover the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land--probably\nMatterplay--lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, perhaps a mile\naway. The current no longer ran toward the shore, but began to skirt the\ncoast without drawing any closer to it. As soon as Maskull realised the\nfact, he manoeuvred the tree out of its channel and started drifting it\ninshore. The eastern sky blazed up suddenly with violent dyes, and\nthe outer rim of Branchspell lifted itself above the sea. The moon had\nalready sunk.\n\nThe shore loomed nearer and nearer. In physical character it was like\nSwaylone\'s Island--the same wide sands, small cliffs, and rounded,\ninsignificant hills inland, without vegetation. In the early-morning\nsunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed and morose,\ncared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, clambered\nswiftly down through the branches and dropped into the sea. By the\ntime he had swam ashore, the white, stupendous sun was high above the\nhorizon.\n\nHe walked along the sands toward the east for a considerable distance,\nwithout having any special intention in his mind. He thought he would go\non until he came to some creek or valley, and then turn up it. The sun\'s\nrays were cheering, and began to relieve him of his oppressive night\nweight. After strolling along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped\nby a broad stream that flowed into the sea out of a kind of natural\ngateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid\ngreen, all filled with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and enticing did\nit look that he flung himself face downward on the ground and took\na prolonged draught. When he got up again his eyes started to play\npranks--they became alternately blurted and clear.... It may have been\npure imagination, but he fancied that Digrung was moving inside him.\n\nHe followed the bank of the stream through the gap in the cliffs, and\nthen for the first time saw the real Matterplay. A valley appeared,\nlike a jewel enveloped by naked rock. All the hill country was bare\nand lifeless, but this valley lying in the heart of it was extremely\nfertile; he had never seen such fertility. It wound up among the hills,\nand all that he was looking at was its broad lower end. The floor of the\nvalley was about half a mile wide; the stream that ran down its middle\nwas nearly a hundred feet across, but was exceedingly shallow--in most\nplaces not more than a few inches deep. The sides of the valley were\nabout seventy feet high, but very sloping; they were clothed from top\nto bottom with little, bright-leaved trees--not of varied tints of one\ncolour, like Earth trees, but of widely diverse colours, most of which\nwere brilliant and positive.\n\nThe floor itself was like a magician\'s garden. Densely interwoven trees,\nshrubs, and parasitical climbers fought everywhere for possession of it.\nThe forms were strange and grotesque, and each one seemed different;\nthe colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and stem were equally\npeculiar--all the different combinations of the five primary colours\nof Tormance seemed to be represented, and the result, for Maskull was\na sort of eye chaos. So rank was the vegetation that he could not fight\nhis way through it; he was obliged to take to the riverbed. The contact\nof the water created an odd tingling sensation throughout his body,\nlike a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a few\nextraordinary-looking winged reptiles of small size kept crossing the\nvalley from hill to hill. Swarms of flying insects clustered around him,\nthreatening mischief, but in the end it turned out that his blood was\ndisagreeable to them, for he was not bitten once. Repulsive crawling\ncreatures resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so forth were in\nmyriads on the banks of the stream, but they also made no attempt to use\ntheir weapons on his bare legs and feet, as he passed through them into\nthe water.... Presently however, he was confronted in midstream by a\nhideous monster, of the size of a pony, but resembling in shape--if it\nresembled anything--a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. They\nstared at one another, the beast with wicked eyes, Maskull with cool and\nwary ones. While he was staring, a singular thing happened to him.\n\nHis eyes blurred again. But when in a minute or two this blurring passed\naway and he saw clearly once more, his vision had changed in character.\nHe was looking right through the animal\'s body and could distinguish all\nits interior parts. The outer crust, however, and all the hard tissues\nwere misty and semi-transparent; through them a luminous network of\nblood-red veins and arteries stood out in startling distinctness. The\nhard parts faded away to nothingness, and the blood system alone was\nleft. Not even the fleshy ducts remained. The naked blood alone was\nvisible, flowing this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the\nshape of the monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of\na continuous liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a\nmillion individual points. The red colour had been an illusion caused by\nthe rapid motion of the points; he now saw clearly that they resembled\nminute suns in their scintillating brightness. They seemed like a double\ndrift of stars, streaming through space. One drift was travelling toward\na fixed point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it.\nHe recognised the former as the veins of the beast, the latter as the\narteries, and the fixed point as the heart.\n\nWhile he was still looking, lost in amazement, the starry network went\nout suddenly like an extinguished flame. Where the crustacean had stood,\nthere was nothing. Yet through this \"nothing\" he could not see the\nlandscape. Something was standing there that intercepted the light,\nthough it possessed neither shape, colour, nor substance. And now the\nobject, which could no longer be perceived by vision, began to be felt\nby emotion. A delightful, springlike sense of rising sap, of quickening\npulses of love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity--took possession\nof his being, and, strangely enough, he identified it with the monster.\nWhy that invisible brute should cause him to feel young, sexual, and\naudacious, he did not ask himself, for he was fully occupied with the\neffect. But it was as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and\nhe were face to face with naked Life itself, which slowly passed into\nhis own body.\n\nThe sensations died away. There was a brief interval, and then the\nstreaming, starlike skeleton rose up again out of space. It changed to\nthe red-blood system. The hard parts of the body reappeared, with more\nand more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew\nfainter. Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed by\nthe crust--the creature stood opposite Maskull in its old formidable\nugliness, hard, painted, and concrete.\n\nDisliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and stumbled\nawkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive movements,\ntoward the other bank of the stream.\n\nMaskull\'s apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and\nthoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through\nDigrung\'s eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately ahead.\nThe next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down with his will,\nand nothing happened.\n\nThe valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed\nconsiderably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and\nhigher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was\ndeeper--it was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric\nsensations caused by its water became more pronounced, almost\ndisagreeably so; but there was nowhere else to walk. With its deafening\nconfusion of sounds from the multitude of living creatures, the little\nvalley resembled a vast conversation hall of Nature. The life was still\nmore prolific than before; every square foot of space was a tangle of\nstruggling wills, both animal and vegetable. For a naturalist it\nwould have been paradise, for no two shapes were alike, and all were\nfantastic, with individual character.\n\nIt looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that\nthere was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on\nEarth, where a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may\nbe sown. Here the young forms seemed to survive, while, to find\naccommodation for them, the old ones perished; everywhere he looked they\nwere withering and dying, without any ostensible cause--they were simply\nbeing killed by new life.\n\nOther creatures sported so wildly, in front of his very eyes, that they\nbecame of different \"kingdoms\" altogether. For example, a fruit was\nlying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with a\ntougher skin. He picked it up, intending to eat the contained pulp; but\ninside it was a fully formed young tree, just on the point of bursting\nits shell. Maskull threw it away upstream. It floated back toward him;\nby the time he was even with it, its downward motion had stopped and it\nwas swimming against the current. He fished it out and discovered that\nit had sprouted six rudimentary legs.\n\nMaskull sang no paeans of praise in honour of the gloriously overcrowded\nvalley. On the contrary, he felt deeply cynical and depressed. He\nthought that the unseen power--whether it was called Nature, Life,\nWill, or God--that was so frantic to rush forward and occupy this small,\nvulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was\nnot worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical\nexistence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important\nbusiness was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he\nlonged for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the\nravine, he began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up\nfrom tree to tree.\n\nWhen he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such\nbrutal, white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He\nlooked around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He\nhad travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare,\nundulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in\nthe distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone\'s\nIsland. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he\ncould see. Over the crest--that is to say, some miles away--a line\nof black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed\nthemselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against\nthe sky, perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of\nLichstorm, most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the\nsunlight.\n\nThey were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were\nconical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced\nthemselves at what looked like impossible angles--overhanging without\napparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought:\nextraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there,\nand to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get\nthere before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted\nhim than the country which lay beyond--the prospect of setting eyes on\nthe blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance.\n\nThe direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question,\nbecause of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed,\nhowever, that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and\ndecided to keep to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared\nit. Into the hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself.\n\nOnce down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for\nseveral miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly\ndifficult. The cliffs closed in on either side until they were less\nthan a hundred yards apart, while the bed of the ravine was blocked\nby boulders, great and small, so that the little stream, which was now\ndiminished to the proportions of a brook, had to come down where and how\nit could. The forms of life grew stranger. Pure plants and pure animals\ndisappeared by degrees, and their place was filled by singular creatures\nthat seemed to partake of both characters. They had limbs, faces, will,\nand intelligence, but they remained for the greater part of their time\nrooted in the ground by preference, and they fed only on soil and air.\nMaskull saw no sexual organs and failed to understand how the young came\ninto existence.\n\nThen he witnessed an astonishing sight. A large and fully developed\nplant-animal appeared suddenly in front of him, out of empty space. He\ncould not believe his eyes, but stared at the creature for a long time\nin amazement. It went on calmly moving and burrowing before him, as\nthought it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull\nresumed his striding from rock to rock up the gorge, and then, quietly\nand without warning, the same phenomenon occurred again. No longer could\nhe doubt than he was seeing miracles--that Nature was precipitating its\nshapes into the world without making use of the medium of parentage....\nNo solution of the problem presented itself.\n\nThe brook too had altered in character. A trembling radiance came up\nfrom its green water, like some imprisoned force escaping into the\nair. He had not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its\nquality. He felt new life entering his body, from his feet upward; it\nresembled a slowly moving cordial, rather than mere heat. The sensation\nwas quite new in his experience, yet he knew by instinct what it was.\nThe energy emitted by the brook was ascending his body neither as friend\nnor foe but simply because it happened to be the direct road to its\nobjective elsewhere. But, although it had no hostile intentions, it was\nlikely to prove a rough traveller--he was clearly conscious that\nits passage through his body threatened to bring about some physical\ntransformation, unless he could do something to prevent it. Leaping\nquickly out of the water, he leaned against a rock, tightened his\nmuscles, and braced himself against the impending charge. At that very\nmoment the blurring again attacked his sight, and, while he was guarding\nagainst that, his forehead sprouted out into a galaxy of new eyes. He\nput his hand up and counted six, in addition to his old ones.\n\nThe danger was past and Maskull laughed, congratulating himself on\nhaving got off so easily. Then he wondered what the new organs were\nfor--whether they were a good or a bad thing. He had not taken a dozen\nsteps up the ravine before he found out. Just as he was in the act of\njumping down from the top of a boulder, his vision altered and he came\nto an automatic standstill. He was perceiving two worlds simultaneously.\nWith his own eyes he saw the gorge as before, with its rocks, brook,\nplant-animals, sunshine, and shadows. But with his acquired eyes he saw\ndifferently. All the details of the valley were visible, but the light\nseemed turned down, and everything appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured.\nThe sun was obscured by masses of cloud which filled the whole sky.\nThis vapour was in violent and almost living motion. It was thick in\nextension, but thin in texture; some parts, however, were far denser\nthan others, as the particles were crushed together or swept apart by\nthe motion. The green sparks from the brook, when closely watched, could\nbe distinguished individually, each one wavering up toward the clouds,\nbut the moment they got within them a fearful struggle seemed to begin.\nThe spark endeavoured to escape through to the upper air, while the\nclouds concentrated around it whichever way it darted, trying to create\nso dense a prison that further movement would be impossible. As far as\nMaskull could detect, most of the sparks succeeded eventually in finding\ntheir way out after frantic efforts; but one that he was looking at was\ncaught, and what happened was this. A complete ring of cloud surrounded\nit, and, in spite of its furious leaps and flashes in all directions--as\nif it were a live, savage creature caught in a net--nowhere could it\nfind an opening, but it dragged the enveloping cloud stuff with it,\nwherever it went. The vapours continued to thicken around it, until\nthey resembled the black, heavy, compressed sky masses seen before a\nbad thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the\ninterior, ceased its efforts, and remained for a time quite quiescent.\nThe cloud shape went on consolidating itself, and became nearly\nspherical; as it grew heavier and stiller, it started slowly to descend\ntoward the valley floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its\nlower end only a few feet off the ground, its motion stopped altogether\nand there was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like\na stab of forked lightning, the great cloud shot together, became small,\nindented, and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on\nlegs and rooting up the ground in search of food. The concluding stage\nof the phenomenon he witnessed with his normal eyesight. It showed him\nthe creature\'s appearing miraculously out of nowhere.\n\nMaskull was shaken. His cynicism dropped from him and gave place to\ncuriosity and awe. \"That was exactly like the birth of a thought,\" he\nsaid to himself, \"but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind is\nat work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his shapes are\ndifferent, and he has character, for all belong to the same general\ntype.... If I\'m not wrong, and if it\'s the force called Shaping or\nCrystalman, I\'ve seen enough to make me want to find out something more\nabout him.... It would be ridiculous to go on to other riddles before I\nhave solved these.\"\n\nA voice called out to him from behind, and, turning around, he saw a\nhuman figure hastening toward him from some distance down the ravine. It\nlooked more like a man than a woman. He was rather tall, but nimble, and\nwas clothed in a dark, frocklike garment that reached from the neck to\nbelow the knees. Around his head was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for\nhim, and when he was nearer went a little way to meet him.\n\nThen he experienced another surprise, for this person, although clearly\na human being, was neither man nor woman, nor anything between the two,\nbut was unmistakably of a third positive sex, which was remarkable to\nbehold and difficult to understand. In order to translate into words the\nsexual impression produced in Maskull\'s mind by the stranger\'s physical\naspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in earthly use\nwould be applicable. Instead of \"he,\" \"she,\" or \"it,\" therefore \"ae\"\nwill be used.\n\nHe found himself incapable of grasping at first why the bodily\npeculiarities of this being should strike him as springing from sex, and\nnot from race, and yet there was no doubt about the fact itself. Body,\nface, and eyes were absolutely neither male nor female, but something\nquite different. Just as one can distinguish a man from a woman at\nthe first glance by some indefinable difference of expression and\natmospheres altogether apart from the contour of the figure, so the\nstranger was separated in appearance from both. As with men and women,\nthe whole person expressed a latent sensuality, which gave body and face\nalike their peculiar character.... Maskull decided that it was love--but\nwhat love--love for whom? it was neither the shame-carrying passion of\na male, nor the deep-rooted instinct of a female to obey her destiny. It\nwas as real and irresistible as these, but quite different.\n\nAs he continued staring into those strange, archaic eyes, he had an\nintuitive feeling that her lover was no other than Shaping himself. It\ncame to him that the design of this love was not the continuance of the\nrace but the immortality on earth of the individual. No children were\nproduced by the act; the lover aerself was the eternal child. Further,\nae sought like a man, but received like a woman. All these things were\ndimly and confusedly expressed by this extraordinary being, who seemed\nto have dropped out of another age, when creation was different.\n\nOf all the weird personalities Maskull had so far met in Tormance, this\none struck him as infinitely the most foreign--that is, the farthest\nremoved from him in spiritual structure. If they were to live together\nfor a hundred years, they could never be companions.\n\nMaskull pulled himself out of his trancelike meditations and, viewing\nthe newcomer in greater detail, tried with his understanding to account\nfor the marvellous things told him by his intuitions. Ae possessed broad\nshoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so far ae\nresembled a man. But the bones were so flat and angular that aer flesh\npresented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces\nin place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down\nby the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung\ntogether in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea.\nThe face too was broken and irregular. With his racial prejudices,\nMaskull found little beauty in it, yet beauty there was, though neither\nof a masculine nor of a feminine type, for it had the three essentials\nof beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was\ncopper-coloured and strangely luminous, as if lighted from within. The\nface was beardless, but the hair of the head was as long as a woman\'s,\nand, dressed in a single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles.\nAe possessed only two eyes. That part of the turban which went across\nthe forehead protruded so far in front that it evidently concealed some\norgan.\n\nMaskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared\nactive, vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes\nwere powerful and alert--ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless,\nthe longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable\nancientness came upon him--aer real youth seemed as far away as the view\nobserved through a reversed telescope.\n\nAt last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were\nconversing with a dream. \"To what sex do you belong?\" he asked.\n\nThe voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was\noddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance.\n\n\"Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world was\npeopled by \'phaens.\' I think I am the only survivor of all those beings\nwho were then passing through Faceny\'s mind.\"\n\n\"Faceny?\"\n\n\"Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names\ninvented by a race of superficial creatures.\"\n\n\"What\'s your own name?\"\n\n\"Leehallfae.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have\njust come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess\nextraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of\nit.\"\n\n\"Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never mind\nthat now. It is your sex that interests me. How do you satisfy your\ndesires?\"\n\nLeehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on aer brow. \"With that I\ngather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay\nvalleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been\nspent trying to find Faceny himself. I\'ve hunted so long that if I were\nto state the number of years you would believe I lied.\"\n\nMaskull looked at the phaen slowly. \"In Ifdawn I met someone else from\nMatterplay--a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.\"\n\n\"You can\'t be telling me this out of vanity.\"\n\n\"It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?\"\n\nLeehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. \"In Matterplay he will stir\ninside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I knew\nhim.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may happen.\nKeep out of the water.\"\n\n\"This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.\"\n\n\"Don\'t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by right to\nthe phaens--the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to remove\nthem.\"\n\nMaskull continued thoughtful. \"I say no more, but I see I will have to\nbe cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?\"\n\n\"Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to serve\nme. Together we will search for Threal.\"\n\n\"Search for Threal--why, is it so hard to find?\"\n\n\"I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.\"\n\n\"You said Faceny, Leehallfae.\"\n\nThe phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. \"This\nstream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its\nsource in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is\nin Threal that we must look for Faceny.\"\n\n\"But what\'s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it\'s a well-known\ncountry?\"\n\n\"It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are few,\nand where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have\nscoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of\nLichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants\nbeside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth,\ndwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.\"\n\n\"Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have found\nFaceny, what do you gain?\"\n\nLeehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and\nits place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that\nMaskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief\nand yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the\nscents and traces of whose person were always present. This passion\nstamped her features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual\nbeauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man.\n\nBut the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast\nshowed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but\nvulgar--it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims\nwith untiring persistence.\n\nHe looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his\nthigh. \"Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any\ncase I shan\'t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as\nyourself.\"\n\n\"But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different creations. A\nphaen\'s body contains the whole of life, a man\'s body contains only the\nhalf of life--the other half is in woman. Faceny may be too strong a\ndraught for your body to endure.... Do you not feel this?\"\n\n\"I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions I\ncan, and chance the rest.\" He bent down, and, taking hold of the phaen\'s\nthin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he proceeded to\nswathe in folds around his forehead. \"I\'m not forgetting your advice,\nLeehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and finish it\nas Digrung.\"\n\nThe phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road\nwas difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it\nwarm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they\ncould surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a\nlong time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion\'s counsel\nto avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it.\nThe second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm,\nwhere it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears\nvanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream.\n\nLeehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying\nto comprehend what had happened. \"Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull,\nor what is the matter?\"\n\n\"Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, if\nanyone does. What is Muspel?\"\n\nThe phaen\'s face was blank. \"I don\'t know the name.\"\n\n\"It is another world of some sort.\"\n\n\"That cannot be. There is only this one world--Faceny\'s.\"\n\nMaskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. \"I\'m glad I fell\nin with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything connected with\nit need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot there are hardly\nany organic forms left--why have they all disappeared? You call this\nbrook a \'life stream,\' yet the nearer its source we get, the less\nlife it produces. A mile or two lower down we had those spontaneous\nplant-animals appearing out of nowhere, while right down by the sea,\nplants and animals were tumbling over one another. Now, if all this is\nconnected in some mysterious way or other with your Faceny, it seems\nto me he must have a most paradoxical nature. His essence doesn\'t start\ncreating shapes until it has become thoroughly weakened and watered....\nBut perhaps both of us are talking nonsense.\"\n\nLeehallfae shook aer head. \"Everything hangs together. The stream is\nlife, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these\nsparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes.\nThe nearer the stream is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous\nis its life. You\'ll see for yourself when we reach the head of the\nvalley that there are no living shapes there at all. That means that\nthere is no kind of matter tough enough to capture and hold the terrible\nsparks that are to be found there. Lower down the stream, most of the\nsparks are vigorous enough to escape to the upper air, but some are held\nwhen they are a little way up, and these burst suddenly into shapes. I\nmyself am of this nature. Lower down still, toward the sea, the stream\nhas lost a great part of its vital power and the sparks are lazy and\nsluggish. They spread out, rather than rise into the air. There is\nhardly any kind of matter, however delicate, that is incapable of\ncapturing these feeble sparks, and they are captured in multitudes--that\naccounts for the innumerable living shapes you see there. But not\nonly that--the sparks are passed from one body to another by way of\ngeneration, and can never hope to cease being so until they are worn\nout by decay. Lowest of all, you have the Sinking Sea itself. There the\ndegenerate and enfeebled life of the Matterplay streams has for its body\nthe whole sea. So weak is it\'s power that it can\'t succeed in creating\nany shapes at all but you can see its ceaseless, futile attempts to do\nso, in those spouts.\"\n\n\"So the slow development of men and women is due to the feebleness of\nthe life germ in their case?\"\n\n\"Exactly. It can\'t attain all its desires at once. And now you can see\nhow immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously from\nthe more electric and vigorous sparks.\"\n\n\"But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?\"\n\n\"When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its place is\nconstantly taken by new matter.\"\n\n\"But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?\"\n\n\"Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left his\nbrain they are nothing--mere dying embers.\"\n\n\"This is a cheerless philosophy,\" said Maskull. \"But who is Faceny\nhimself, then, and why does he think at all?\"\n\nLeehallfae gave another wrinkled smile. \"That I\'ll explain too. Faceny\nis of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He has no\nback and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It\nmust necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and\nNothingness. His face is all eyes, for he eternally contemplates\nNothingness. He draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could\nhe feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in\nempty places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.\"\n\n\"That rings true,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny\'s face backward. Since his face\nis on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught of\nthought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of\nFaceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the\nworld. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not\noutside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like\na gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never\nsee.\"\n\nMaskull pondered deeply for a while.\n\n\"Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, since\nyou are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought.\"\n\n\"Have you never loved a woman?\" asked the phaen, regarding him fixedly.\n\n\"Perhaps I have.\"\n\n\"When you loved, did you have no high moments?\"\n\n\"That\'s asking the same question in other words.\"\n\n\"In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have drawn\nnearer still, would you not have done so?\"\n\n\"I would, regardless of the consequences.\"\n\n\"Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?\"\n\n\"But I would have that to hope for.\"\n\nLeehallfae walked on in silence.\n\n\"A man is the half of Life,\" ae broke out suddenly. \"A woman is the\nother half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. Moreover, when\nlife becomes split into halves, something else has dropped out of\nit--something that belongs only to the whole. Between your love and mine\nthere is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn to Faceny,\nwithout stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you suppose it is\nwith me?\"\n\n\"I don\'t question the genuineness of your passion,\" replied Maskull,\n\"but it\'s a pity you can\'t see your way to carry it forward into the\nnext world.\"\n\nLeehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion.\n\"Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see the\nworld only as it really is.\"\n\nThat ended the conversation.\n\nThe sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the\nhead of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except\nat those moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode\nalong all the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot\nand relaxing. All life had ceased. A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was\npresented by the cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that\nchoked the entire width of the gorge. They were a snow-white crystalline\nlimestone, heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue. The rivulet\nwas no longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal. Its noise was\nmusical, and altogether it looked most romantic and charming, but\nLeehallfae seemed to find something else in it--aer features grew more\nand more set and tortured.\n\nAbout half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another\nplant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes.\nIt was as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous\nappearance, as befitted a creature just out of Nature\'s mint. It started\nto walk about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder.\nNothing remained of it--the whole body disappeared instantaneously into\nthe same invisible mist from which it had sprung.\n\n\"That bears out what you said,\" commented Maskull, turning rather pale.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Leehallfae, \"we have now come to the region of terrible\nlife.\"\n\n\"Then, since you\'re right in this, I must believe all that you\'ve been\ntelling me.\"\n\nAs he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine.\nThere now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three\nhundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock. It was the head\nof the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed.\n\n\"In return for my wisdom,\" said the phaen, \"you will now lend me your\nluck.\"\n\nThey walked up to the base of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it\nreflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the ascent would be\ndifficult. The now tiny brook issued from a hole in the rock only a few\nfeet up. Apart from its musical running, not a sound was to be beard.\nThe floor of the gorge was in shadow, but about halfway up the precipice\nthe sun was shining.\n\n\"What do you want me to do?\" demanded Maskull. \"Everything is now in\nyour hands, and I have no suggestions to make. Now it\'s your luck that\nmust help us.\"\n\nMaskull continued gazing up a little while longer. \"We had better wait\ntill the afternoon, Leehallfae. I\'ll probably have to climb to the top,\nbut it\'s too hot at present--and besides, I\'m tired. I\'ll snatch a few\nhours\' sleep. After that, we\'ll see.\"\n\nLeehallfae seemed annoyed, but raised no opposition.\n\n\n\nChapter 17. CORPANG\n\nMaskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was\nstanding by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae\nhad slept at all.\n\n\"What time is it?\" Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.\n\n\"The day is passing,\" was the vague reply.\n\nMaskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. \"Now I\'m going to\nclimb that. No need for both of us to risk our necks, so you wait here,\nand if I find anything on top I\'ll call you.\"\n\nAle phaen glanced at him strangely. \"There\'s nothing up there except\na bare hillside. I\'ve been there often. Have you anything special in\nmind?\"\n\n\"Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait.\"\n\nRefreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the\ncliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it\ngrew precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and\nintelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect\nbefore every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no\nnovice at the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it\nhalf blinded him with its glittering whiteness.\n\nAfter many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating\ncopiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two\nprojecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling\nupward, his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the\nlarger of the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a\nhuge, dark shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to\nthe foot of the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones.\nMaskull steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments\nbefore he dared to look down behind him.\n\nAt first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight\nof legs and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He\nperceived that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising\nsomething, and waited for aer to reappear.\n\nAe emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice,\n\"The entrance is here!\"\n\n\"I\'m coming down!\" roared Maskull. \"Wait for me!\"\n\nHe descended swiftly--without taking too much care, for he thought he\nrecognised his \"luck\" in this discovery--and within twenty minutes was\nstanding beside the phaen.\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the spring. It\ntore it out of its bed. See--now there\'s room for us to get in!\"\n\n\"Don\'t get excited!\" said Maskull. \"It\'s a remarkable accident, but we\nhave plenty of time. Let me look.\"\n\nHe peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man\nwithout stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet\na peculiar glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock\ntunnel went straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight.\nThe valley brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had\nexpected, but came up as a spring just inside the entrance.\n\n\"Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe that\nyour stream parts company with us here.\"\n\nAs he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was\ntrembling from head to foot.\n\n\"Why, what\'s the matter?\"\n\nLeehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. \"The stream leaves us, but what\nmakes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there.\"\n\n\"But surely you don\'t expect to see him in person? Why are you shaking?\"\n\n\"Perhaps it will be too much for me after all.\"\n\n\"Why? How is it affecting you?\"\n\nThe phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm\'s length,\nendeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. \"Faceny\'s thoughts are\nobscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he grants to you\nwhat he denies to me.\"\n\n\"What does he grant to me?\"\n\n\"To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it\'s immaterial.\nTomorrow both of us will be dead.\"\n\nMaskull impatiently shook himself free. \"Your sensations may be reliable\nin your own case, but how do you know I shall die?\"\n\n\"Life is flaming up inside you,\" replied Leehallfae, shaking aer head.\n\"But after it has reached its climax--perhaps tonight--it will sink\nrapidly and you\'ll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter Threal I shan\'t\ncome out again. A smell of death is being wafted to me out of this\nhole.\"\n\n\"You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing.\"\n\n\"I am not frightened,\" said Leehallfae quietly--ae had been gradually\nrecovering aer tranquillity--\"but when one has lived as long as I have,\nit is a serious matter to die. Every year one puts out new roots.\"\n\n\"Decide what you\'re going to do,\" said Maskull with a touch of contempt,\n\"for I\'m going in at once.\"\n\nThe phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that\nwalked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his\nhead, followed close at aer heels.\n\nThe moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere\naltered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear\nand refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts.\nThe daylight disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that,\nMaskull could not say where the light came from. The air itself must\nhave been luminous, for though it was as light as full moon on Earth,\nneither he nor Leehallfae cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the\nlight was that both the walls of the tunnel and their own bodies\nappeared colourless. Everything was black and white, like a lunar\nlandscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal feelings created by the\natmosphere.\n\nAfter they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to\nwiden out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could\nhave walked side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged\naerself along slowly and painfully, with sunken head.\n\nMaskull caught hold of aer. \"You can\'t go on like that. Better let me\ntake you back.\"\n\nThe phaen smiled, and staggered. \"I\'m dying.\"\n\n\"Don\'t talk like that. It\'s only a passing indisposition. Let me take\nyou back to the daylight.\"\n\n\"No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny.\"\n\n\"The sick must have their way,\" said Maskull. Lifting aer bodily in his\narms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or so. They then\nemerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of which he had\nnever set eyes upon before.\n\n\"Set me down!\" directed Leehallfae feebly. \"Here I\'ll die.\"\n\nMaskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground.\nThe phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with\nfast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape.\n\nMaskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain,\nlighted as if by the moon--but there was of course no moon, and there\nwere no shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside\nthem were trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but\nthe branches also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other\nplants could be seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice.\nBeyond a mile or two in any direction the light merged into obscurity.\nAt their back a great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not\nsquare like a wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented\nline of sea cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight.\nHere and there a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered,\ntowered aloft into the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof.\nThere were no colours--every detail of the landscape was black, white,\nor grey. The scene appeared so still, so solemn and religious, that all\nhis feelings quieted down to absolute tranquillity.\n\nLeehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and\nhelplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a\ncandle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of\nCrystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen\'s dead features.\n\nWhile Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone\nstanding beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at\nonce rise.\n\n\"Another phaen dead,\" said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, and\nintellectual voice.\n\nMaskull got up.\n\nThe man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not\ndisfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were\nenergetic and rather coarse--yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure,\nhard life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine\neyes carried a twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was\napparently in the forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the\nhair of his head was short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed\nin a black, sleeveless robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There\nwas an air of cleanness and austerity about the whole man that was\nattractive.\n\nHe went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so,\nkept passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. \"They all\nfind their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live\nto an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because\nof their spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured\nchildren of Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at\nonce.\"\n\n\"I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?\"\n\n\"I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you\ndoing here?\"\n\n\"My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. As\nfor what I am doing here--I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, from\nMatterplay.\"\n\n\"But a man doesn\'t accompany a phaen out of friendship. What do you want\nin Threal?\"\n\n\"Then this is Threal?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nMaskull remained silent.\n\nCorpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. \"Are you ignorant, or\nmerely reticent, Maskull?\"\n\n\"I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them.\"\n\nThe stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred,\nand not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as\nthough they were in a cathedral.\n\n\"Then do you want my society, or not?\" asked Corpang.\n\n\"Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is--not to talk about\nmyself.\"\n\n\"But you must at least tell me where you want to go to.\"\n\n\"I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm.\"\n\n\"I can guide you through, if that\'s all you want. Come, let us start.\"\n\n\"First let\'s do our duty and bury the dead, if possible.\"\n\n\"Turn around,\" directed Corpang.\n\nMaskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae\'s body had disappeared.\n\n\"What does this mean--what has happened?\"\n\n\"The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for it\nto be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required.\"\n\n\"Was the phaen an illusion, then?\"\n\n\"In no sense.\"\n\n\"Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be going\nmad.\"\n\n\"There\'s nothing unintelligible in it, if you\'ll only listen calmly. The\nphaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible world--to\nFaceny. This underworld is not Faceny\'s world, but Thire\'s, and Faceny\'s\ncreatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. As this applies not only to\nwhole bodies, but even to the last particles of bodies, the phaen has\ndissolved into Nothingness.\"\n\n\"But don\'t you and I belong to the outside world too?\"\n\n\"We belong to all three worlds.\"\n\n\"What three worlds--what do you mean?\"\n\n\"There are three worlds,\" said Corpang composedly. \"The first is\nFaceny\'s, the second is Amfuse\'s, the third is Thire\'s. From him Threal\ngets it name.\"\n\n\"But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three worlds?\"\n\nCorpang passed his hand over his forehead. \"All this we can discuss as\nwe go along. It\'s a torment to me to be standing still.\"\n\nMaskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae\'s body had lain, quite\nbewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely tear\nhimself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang\ncalled to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him.\n\nThey set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain,\ndirecting their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the\nabsence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the\njetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly\nsilence, the knowledge that he was underground--the combination of all\nthese things predisposed Maskull\'s mind to mysticism, and he prepared\nhimself with some anxiety to hear Corpang\'s explanation of the land and\nits wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of the outside\nworld and the reality of this world were two quite different things.\n\n\"In what sense are there three worlds?\" he demanded, repeating his\nformer question.\n\nCorpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. \"First of all,\nMaskull, what is your motive for asking? If it\'s mere intellectual\ncuriosity, tell me, for we mustn\'t play with awful matters.\"\n\n\"No, it isn\'t that,\" said Maskull slowly. \"I\'m not a student. My journey\nis no holiday tour.\"\n\n\"Isn\'t there blood on your soul?\" asked Corpang, eying him intently.\n\nThe blood rose steadily to Maskull\'s face, but in that light it caused\nit to appear black.\n\n\"Unfortunately there is, and not a little.\"\n\nThe other\'s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment.\n\n\"And so you see,\" went on Maskull, with a short laugh, \"I\'m in the very\nbest condition for receiving your instruction.\"\n\nCorpang still paused. \"Underneath your crimes I see a man,\" he said,\nafter a few minutes. \"On that account, and because we are commanded to\nhelp one another, I won\'t leave you at present, though I little thought\nto be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... Whatever a\nman sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways--length, breadth,\ndepth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, depth is feeling.\"\n\n\"Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who came\nfrom Threal.\"\n\n\"I don\'t know him. What else did he tell you?\"\n\n\"He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the\ninterruption.\"\n\n\"These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is\nFaceny\'s world, relation is Amfuse\'s world, feeling is Thire\'s world.\"\n\n\"Can\'t we come down to hard facts?\" said Maskull, frowning. \"I\nunderstand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds.\"\n\n\"There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first\nworld is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of\nnothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.\"\n\n\"That I understand.\"\n\n\"The second world is Love--by which I don\'t mean lust. Without love,\nevery individual would be entirely self-centred and unable deliberately\nto act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy--not even\nhatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect and\ndistorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny\'s world of Nature,\ntherefore, we have Amfuse\'s world of Love, or Relation.\"\n\n\"What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world is\nnot contained in the first?\"\n\n\"They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover lives\nfor others.\"\n\n\"It may be so. It\'s rather mystical. But go on--who is Thire?\"\n\n\"Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and love\nwithout feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the\nneed of men to stretch out toward their creator.\"\n\n\"You mean prayer and worship?\"\n\n\"I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in either\nthe first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as depth\nis the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between\nThire and man.\"\n\n\"But what is Thire himself?\"\n\n\"Thire is the afterworld.\"\n\n\"I still don\'t understand,\" said Maskull. \"Do you believe in three\nseparate gods, or are these merely three ways of regarding one God?\"\n\n\"There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they are\nsomehow united.\"\n\nMaskull reflected a while. \"How have you arrived at these conclusions?\"\n\n\"None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.\"\n\n\"Why in Threal--what is there peculiar here?\"\n\n\"I will show you presently.\"\n\nThey walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what\nhad been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the\nbanks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted.\n\n\"That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,\" he\nremarked.\n\nMaskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and\nuninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance.\n\n\"How has this come about--and how did you know it?\"\n\n\"They were Faceny\'s organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen\'s body\nvanished.\"\n\nMaskull kept rubbing his forehead. \"I feel more human without them. But\nwhy isn\'t the rest of my body affected?\"\n\n\"Because its living will contains the element of Thire.\"\n\n\"Why are we stopping here?\"\n\nCorpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and\nproffered it to him. \"Eat this, Maskull.\"\n\n\"For food, or something else?\"\n\n\"Food for body and soul.\"\n\nMaskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was\nbleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change\nof perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline,\nbecame several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang\nhe was impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed\nexpression was still in his eyes.\n\n\"Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?\"\n\n\"Occasionally I go above, but not often.\"\n\n\"What fastens you to this gloomy world?\"\n\n\"The search for Thire.\"\n\n\"Then it\'s still a search?\"\n\n\"Let us walk on.\"\n\nAs they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain,\nthe conversation became even more earnest in character than before.\n\"Although I was not born here,\" proceeded Corpang, \"I\'ve lived here for\ntwenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing nearer\nto Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it--the first\nstages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. The\nlonger a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the\nbeginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a\nvoice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and\nharsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles\noff.\"\n\n\"How do you explain that?\"\n\n\"When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull.\"\n\n\"But this is troubling you?\"\n\n\"My days are spent in torture.\"\n\n\"You still persist, though? This day darkness can\'t be the ultimate\nstate?\"\n\n\"My questions will be answered.\"\n\nA silence ensued.\n\n\"What do you propose to show me?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three Figures,\nwhich were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, we will\npray.\"\n\n\"And what then?\"\n\n\"If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily\nforget.\"\n\nThey had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two\nparallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills\non either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as\nit curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view.\nThey came to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed\na trickling brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was\nflowing up the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by\nother miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized\nstream. Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead.\n\n\"Nature has other laws here, it seems?\"\n\n\"Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds.\"\n\n\"Yet the water is flowing somewhere.\"\n\n\"I can\'t explain it, but there are three wills in it.\"\n\n\"Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?\"\n\n\"Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without\nFaceny.\"\n\nMaskull thought this over for some minutes. \"That must be so,\" he said\nat last. \"Without life there can be no love, and without love there can\nbe no religious feeling.\"\n\nIn the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the\nvalley presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The\nsides were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower\nat every step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and\nsepulchral.\n\nMaskull said, \"I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another world.\"\n\n\"I still do not know what you are doing here,\" answered Corpang.\n\n\"Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur.\"\n\n\"That name I\'ve heard--but under what circumstances?\"\n\n\"You forget?\"\n\nCorpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled.\n\"Who is Surtur?\"\n\nMaskull shook his head, and said nothing.\n\nThe valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching\nfingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock\nwalls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but\njust when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by\ncliffs on all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly\ninto the open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of\nprecipices.\n\nA sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the\nway they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred\nyards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with\nperpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet,\nbut its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one\nanother, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too\nproceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged\nonto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher\nthan that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double\nline of lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible.\n\nThe stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight\nforward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a\nwaterfall, it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then\ndisappeared through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side.\n\nTo Maskull\'s mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural\nphenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here\nthan on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms.\n\nCorpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When\nthey had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet.\nThree large rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three\nupright giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of\nthe chasm. Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that\nthey were statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship\nwas of the rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and\ntrunks had been barely chipped into shape--the faces alone had had care\nbestowed on them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was\nobviously the work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with\nknees closed and arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were\nexactly alike.\n\nAs soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted.\n\n\"Is this a representation of your three Beings?\" asked Maskull, awed by\nthe spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity.\n\n\"Ask no questions, but kneel,\" replied Corpang. He dropped onto his own\nknees, but Maskull remained standing.\n\nCorpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a\nfew minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he\ncontinued looking.\n\nIt grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight\nand sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit.\n\nThen one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had\nceased to be a statue--it was a living person. Out of the blackness of\nspace a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy\nglow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew\nstronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow\ncame from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist.\n\nBefore long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that\nof a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl\nand the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull\nfelt the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one\nwho awakes from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark,\ndelicate colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and\nlooked beyond him. He began to shudder, with delight--and many emotions.\nAs he gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and\nindefinable character that he could endure it no more; he burst into\ntears.\n\nWhen he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few\nmoments more he was plunged back into total darkness.\n\nShortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured\ninto a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its\nface and body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from\nthem. This light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden\nfire. It illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges,\nthe cliffs, himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted\nstatues--all appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and\nstrongly defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat.\nMaskull was unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart\nmelting to womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded\nimperceptibly away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left\nbehind was not freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate\nand nearly savage mental state of pity and distress. He felt a\ntormenting desire to serve. All this came from the heat of the statue,\nand was without an object. He glanced anxiously around him, and fastened\nhis eyes on Corpang. He put a hand on his shoulder and aroused him from\nhis praying.\n\n\"You must know what I am feeling, Corpang.\"\n\nCorpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing.\n\n\"I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?\"\n\n\"So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to the\ninvisible worlds.\"\n\nAs soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to\ndie away from the landscape. Maskull\'s emotion slowly subsided, but\nit was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became\nmaster of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition\nof enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting\nin his character. He got up onto his feet.\n\nThe very moment that he arose, a man\'s voice sounded, not a yard from\nhis ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could distinguish\nthat it was not Corpang\'s. As he listened he was unable to prevent\nhimself from physically trembling.\n\n\"Maskull, you are to die,\" said the unseen speaker.\n\n\"Who is speaking?\"\n\n\"You have only a few hours of life left. Don\'t trifle the time away.\"\n\nMaskull could bring nothing out.\n\n\"You have despised life,\" went on the low-toned voice. \"Do you really\nimagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is a joke?\"\n\n\"What must I do?\"\n\n\"Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to...\"\n\nThe voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again.\nAll remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken\nhis departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of\ncatalepsy.\n\nAt that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, white\nglow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining.\n\nIn a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got\nup, and shook him out of his trance.\n\nMaskull looked around, but saw no third person. \"Whose statue was the\nlast?\" he demanded.\n\n\"Did you hear me speaking?\"\n\n\"I heard your voice, but no one else\'s.\"\n\n\"I\'ve just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long to live.\nLeehallfae prophesied the same thing.\"\n\nCorpang shook his head. \"What value do you set on life?\" he asked.\n\n\"Very little. But it\'s a fearful thing all the same.\"\n\n\"Your death is?\"\n\n\"No, but this warning.\"\n\nThey stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men\nseemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard\nthe sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way\noff and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked.\nIt appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where\nthey were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull\'s heart beat\nquickly.\n\n\"What can that sound be?\" asked Corpang, peering into the obscurity.\n\n\"It is Surtur.\"\n\n\"Once again, who is Surtur?\"\n\nMaskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance\nwas in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in\nintensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer\nseen by Thire\'s light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows.\n\nCorpang\'s nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. \"What fire\nis that?\"\n\n\"It is Muspel-light.\"\n\nThey both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange\nglow they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in\nthe sordid and horrible Crystalman mask.\n\nCorpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. \"What can this mean?\"\nhe asked a minute later.\n\n\"It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, whether\nhe is one person or three.\"\n\nCorpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a\nshocking sight. \"Dare we believe this?\"\n\n\"You must,\" replied Maskull. \"You have always served the highest, and\nyou must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire is not\nthe highest.\"\n\nCorpang\'s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. \"Life is\nclearly false--I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I\nfind--this.\"\n\n\"You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had eternity\nto practice his cunning in, so it\'s no wonder if a man can\'t see\nstraight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?\"\n\n\"The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"But where will it take us?\"\n\n\"Perhaps out of Threal altogether.\"\n\n\"It sounds to me more real than reality,\" said Corpang. \"Tell me, who is\nSurtur?\"\n\n\"Surtur\'s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which this\nworld is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is other than\nlife.\"\n\n\"How do you know this?\"\n\n\"It has sprung together somehow--from inspiration, from experience, from\nconversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it grows truer\nfor me and takes a more definite shape.\"\n\nCorpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh,\nenergetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. \"I believe\nyou, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not the\nhighest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but the\nthoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming\nwith you--but don\'t play the traitor. These signs may be for you, and\nnot for me at all, and if you leave me--\"\n\n\"I make no promises. I don\'t ask you to come with me. If you prefer to\nstay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you had\nbetter not come.\"\n\n\"Don\'t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me... Let us\nmake haste, or we shall lose the sound.\"\n\nCorpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the\ndirection of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along\nthe ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually\ndeparted, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical\nbeats continued, but a very long way ahead--neither was able to diminish\nthe distance.\n\n\"What kind of man are you?\" Corpang suddenly broke out.\n\n\"In what respect?\"\n\n\"How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it\nthat I\'ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my\nnever-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to\nme?\"\n\n\"To hear voices perhaps can\'t be made a profession,\" replied Maskull.\n\"I have a simple and unoccupied mind--that may be why I sometimes hear\nthings that up to the present you have not been able to.\"\n\nCorpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his\npride.\n\nThe ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform\non the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to\nthe right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a\nbridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of\nprecipices immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along\nthe base of these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a\nlarge cave the sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps\ninward.\n\n\"This leads to the outer world,\" remarked Corpang. \"I\'ve occasionally\nbeen there by this passage.\"\n\n\"Then that\'s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan\'t be\nsorry to see sunlight once more.\"\n\n\"Can you find time to think of sunlight?\" asked Corpang with a rough\nsmile.\n\n\"I love the sun, and perhaps I\'m rather lacking in the spirit of a\nzealot.\"\n\n\"Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.\"\n\n\"Don\'t be bitter,\" said Maskull. \"I\'ll tell you another thing. Muspel\ncan\'t be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not concern the\nwill. To will is a property of this world.\"\n\n\"Then what is your journey for?\"\n\n\"It\'s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the walk,\nand quite another to run there at top speed.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I\'m not so easily deceived as you think,\" said Corpang with\nanother smile.\n\nThe light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep\nascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had\nto climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the\nconfined dreams of his childhood.\n\nNot long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the\nlast stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and,\nall dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a\nhillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang\nfollowed closely at his heels, He was obliged to shield his eyes with\nhis hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell\'s\nblinding rays.\n\n\"The drum beats have stopped!\" he exclaimed suddenly.\n\n\"You can\'t expect music all the time,\" answered Maskull dryly. \"We\nmustn\'t be luxurious.\"\n\n\"But now we have no guide. We\'re no better off than before.\"\n\n\"Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, Corpang.\nAs I come from the south, I always go due north.\"\n\n\"That will take us to Lichstorm.\"\n\nMaskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. \"I saw\nthese rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they\ndid them, and there\'s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm\nfrom here?\"\n\nCorpang looked away to the distant range. \"I don\'t know, but unless a\nmiracle happens we shan\'t get there tonight.\"\n\n\"I have a feeling,\" said Maskull, \"that we shall not only get there\ntonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life.\"\n\nAnd he sat down passively to rest.\n\n\n\nChapter 18. HAUNTE\n\nWhile Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his\narms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed\nimpatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped\nshort in front of Maskull and looked down at him. \"What do you intend to\ndo?\"\n\nMaskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains.\n\"Since we can\'t walk, we must wait.\"\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"I don\'t know... How\'s this, though? Those peaks have changed colour,\nfrom red to green.\"\n\n\"Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.\"\n\n\"The lich wind?\"\n\n\"It\'s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the mountains,\nbut when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as Threal.\"\n\n\"It\'s a sort of fog, then?\"\n\n\"A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.\"\n\n\"So we are to have lovemaking,\" said Maskull, laughing.\n\n\"Perhaps you won\'t find it so joyous,\" replied Corpang a little grimly.\n\n\"But tell me--these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?\"\n\nCorpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast\nfading into obscurity.\n\n\"Passion keeps them from falling.\"\n\nMaskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit.\n\"What, the love of rock for rock?\"\n\n\"It is comical, but true.\"\n\n\"We\'ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the mountains is\nBarey, is it not?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?\"\n\n\"That is told only to those who die beside it.\"\n\n\"Is the secret so precious, Corpang?\"\n\nBranchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than\ntwo hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky.\nIt was a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now\nappeared only as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling,\nand was exciting in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional\ninflammation, as though a very slight external cause would serve to\noverturn his self-control. Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron.\n\nMaskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity.\n\n\"That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something from\nthe top.\"\n\nWithout waiting for his companion\'s opinion, he began to scramble up the\ntower, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined\nhim.\n\nFrom their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to\nthe sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering\nwater. Leaving all that, however, Maskull\'s eyes immediately fastened\nthemselves on a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which\nwas travelling rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the\nair.\n\n\"What do you make of that?\" he asked in a tone of astonishment.\n\nCorpang shook his head and said nothing.\n\nWithin two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished\nthe distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and\nmore, but its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was\ncontinually jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull\nnow made out a man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large\ndead animal lying amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he\nobserved a thick, blue haze underneath it, and a similar haze behind,\nbut the front, facing them, was clear.\n\n\"Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth\ncarries it?\"\n\nHe stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had\nnot been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made\nwild motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred\nyards distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a\nway that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence.\n\nThe boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a\nwalking man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was\nshaped rather queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides\ntapered off from a flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern.\nThe flat bottom was not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked,\nand carried only one living occupant; the other object they had\ndistinguished was really the carcass of an animal, of about the size\nof a large sheep. The blue haze trailing behind the boat appeared to\nemanate from the glittering point of a short upright pole fastened in\nthe stem. When the craft was within a few feet of them, and they were\nlooking down at it in wonder from above, the man removed this pole and\ncovered the brightly shining tip with a cap. The forward motion then\nceased altogether, and the boat began to drift hither and thither,\nbut still it remained suspended in the air, while the haze underneath\npersisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against the pile of\nrocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore and\nimmediately clambered up to meet them.\n\nMaskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a\nyoung man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His\nlimbs were quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long,\nand he had the biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in\na man. His hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding\nteeth, and a spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped\nupward. On his forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been\nmutilated--it was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short\nand thin. Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed\nto stand in the same relation to jale as green to red.\n\nOnce up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two\ncompanions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently.\nMaskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the\nfirst to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background.\n\n\"What men are you?\" demanded the aerial navigator at last. His voice was\nextremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It sounded to\nMaskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way through a\nnarrow orifice.\n\n\"I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where I\ncome from, don\'t ask.\"\n\n\"I am Haunte, from Sarclash.\"\n\n\"Where may that be?\"\n\n\"Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got too\nmurky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm.\"\n\n\"Are you returning there now?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And how long will it take to get there in that boat?\"\n\n\"Two--three hours.\"\n\n\"Will it accommodate us too?\"\n\n\"What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?\"\n\n\"To see the sights,\" responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. \"But first\nof all, to dine. I can\'t remember having eaten all day. You seem to have\nbeen hunting to some purpose, so we won\'t lack for food.\"\n\nHaunte eyed him quizzically. \"You certainly don\'t lack impudence.\nHowever, I\'m a man of that sort myself, and it is the sort I prefer.\nYour friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a meal of a\nstranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up out of a\ndark hole.\"\n\nMaskull took Corpang\'s arm, and constrained him to silence.\n\n\"Where have you been hunting, Haunte?\"\n\n\"Matterplay. I had the worst luck--I speared one wold horse, and there\nit lies.\"\n\n\"What is Lichstorm like?\"\n\n\"There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no\nmen-women, as with you.\"\n\n\"What do you call men-women?\"\n\n\"Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are pure.\"\n\n\"I have always regarded myself as a man.\"\n\n\"Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?\"\n\n\"Why, do you?\"\n\nHaunte grinned and showed his teeth. \"Things are different in\nLichstorm.... So you want to see the sights?\"\n\n\"I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what you\nsay.\"\n\n\"Then I\'ll introduce you to Sullenbode.\"\n\nHe paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a\ngreat, bass laugh, so that his chest shook.\n\n\"Let us share the joke,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"Oh, you\'ll understand it later.\"\n\n\"If you play pranks with me, I won\'t stand on ceremony with you.\"\n\nHaunte laughed again. \"I won\'t be the one to play pranks. Sullenbode\nwill be deeply obliged to me. If I don\'t visit her myself as often as\nshe would like, I\'m always glad to serve her in other ways.... Well, you\nshall have your boat ride.\"\n\nMaskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. \"If the sexes hate one another in\nyour land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?\"\n\n\"In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm\nthere is hard passion.\"\n\n\"But what do you call hard passion?\"\n\n\"Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure.\"\n\n\"I intend to understand, before I\'ve finished.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Haunte, with a taunting look, \"it would be a pity to let\nthe chance slip, since you\'re going to Lichstorm.\"\n\nIt was now Corpang\'s turn to take Maskull by the arm. \"This journey will\nend badly.\"\n\n\"Why so?\"\n\n\"Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women.\"\n\n\"Let me alone,\" said Maskull. \"Give luck a slack rein. What brought this\nboat here?\"\n\n\"What is this talk about Muspel?\" demanded Haunte.\n\nCorpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes.\n\"What do you know?\"\n\n\"Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high time\nto start. Navigating the mountains by night isn\'t child\'s play, let me\ntell you.\"\n\n\"I shall not forget,\" said Corpang.\n\nMaskull gazed down at the boat. \"Are we to get in?\"\n\n\"Gently, my friend. It\'s only canework and skin.\"\n\n\"First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived to\ndispense with the laws of gravitation.\"\n\nHaunte smiled sarcastically. \"A secret in your ear, Maskull. All laws\nare female. A true male is an outlaw--outside the law.\"\n\n\"I don\'t understand.\"\n\n\"The great body of the earth is continually giving out female particles,\nand the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally continually\ntrying to reach them. That\'s gravitation.\"\n\n\"Then how do you manage with your boat?\"\n\n\"My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat prevents it\nfrom falling to the ground; the one in the stem shuts it off from solid\nobjects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any part\nof the earth is the bow, for that\'s the only part the light of the male\nstones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels.\"\n\n\"And what are these wondrous male stones?\"\n\n\"They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they\nare showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the\nfemale particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left\nover to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the\nleast attracted in that direction.\"\n\nMaskull ruminated for a minute.\n\n\"With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very\nhandy, skilful fellow, Haunte.... But the sun\'s sinking, and we\'d better\nstart.\"\n\n\"Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then you\nand your gloomy friend can sit amidships.\"\n\nMaskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but\nthen he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom,\nstill clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear,\nas though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but\nthe rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and\nhe was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty.\n\nAfter the first moment\'s shock, he quietly accepted the new order of\nthings, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight\nin the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then\ndescended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his\nsettled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last;\ngrasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to\nerect it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near\nview of the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of\nNature, acted indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In\nthe last ruddy gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it\nlooked little more impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating\nblue-white jewel, but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured\nmist that it threw out for many yards around.\n\nThe steering was effected by means of a shutter attached by a cord to\nthe top of the staff, which could be so manipulated that any segment of\nthe male stone\'s rays, or all the rays, or none at all, could be shut\noff at will. No sooner was the staff raised than the aerial vessel\nquietly detached itself from the rock to which it had been drawn, and\npassed slowly forward in the direction of the mountains. Branchspell\nsank below the horizon. The gathering mist blotted out everything\noutside a radius of a few miles. The air grew cool and fresh.\n\nSoon the rock masses ceased on the great, rising plain. Haunte withdrew\nthe shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed.\n\n\"You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night,\"\nexclaimed Maskull. \"I would have thought it impossible.\"\n\nHaunte grunted. \"You will have to take risks, and think yourself\nfortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull. But\none thing I can tell you--if you go on disturbing me with your chitchat\nwe shan\'t get as far as the mountains.\"\n\nThereafter Maskull was silent.\n\nThe twilight deepened; the murk grew denser. There was little to look\nat, but much to feel. The motion of the boat, which was due to\nthe never-ending struggle between the male stones and the force of\ngravitation, resembled in an exaggerated fashion the violent tossing\nof a small craft on a choppy sea. The two passengers became unhappy.\nHaunte, from his seat in the stern, gazed at them sardonically with one\neye. The darkness now came on rapidly.\n\nAbout ninety minutes after the commencement of the voyage they arrived\nat the foothills of Lichstorm. They began to mount. There was no\ndaylight left to see by. Beneath them, however, on both sides of\nthem and in the rear, the landscape was lighted up for a considerable\ndistance by the now vivid blue rays of the twin male stones. Ahead,\nwhere these rays did not shine, Haunte was guided by the self-luminous\nnature of the rocks, grass, and trees. These were faintly\nphosphorescent; the vegetation shone out more strongly than the soil.\n\nThe moon was not shining and there were no stars; Maskull therefore\ninferred that the upper atmosphere was dense with mist. Once or twice,\nfrom his sensations of choking, he thought that they were entering a\nfogbank, but it was a strange kind of fog, for it had the effect of\ndoubling the intensity of every light in front of them. Whenever this\nhappened, nightmare feelings attacked him; he experienced transitory,\nunreasoning fright and horror.\n\nNow they passed high above the valley that separated the foothills from\nthe mountains themselves. The boat began an ascent of many thousands\nof feet and, as the cliffs were near, Haunte had to manoeuvre carefully\nwith the rear light in order to keep clear of them. Maskull watched the\ndelicacy of his movements, not without admiration. A long time went\nby. It grew much colder; the air was damp and drafty. The fog began to\ndeposit something like snow on their persons. Maskull kept sweating with\nterror, not because of the danger they were in, but because of the cloud\nbanks that continued to envelop them.\n\nThey cleared the first line of precipices. Still mounting, but this time\nwith a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by\nthe male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out\nof sight of solid ground. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke\nthrough. In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling\nhither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through\none of which Teargeld was shining. Below them, to their left, a gigantic\npeak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and\nwas then swallowed up again. All the rest of the world was hidden by the\nmist. The moon went in again. Maskull had seen quite enough to make him\nlong for the aerial voyage to end.\n\nThe light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new\ncliff. It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular. Upward, downward, and on\nboth sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night. After coasting it a\nlittle way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out. It was square,\nmeasuring about a dozen feet each way. Green snow covered it to a depth\nof some inches. Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which\npromised to be the mouth of a cave.\n\nHaunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform. Standing up, he\nraised the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then\nremoved both male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand. His\nface was thrown into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white\nrays. It looked rather surly.\n\n\"Do we get out?\" inquired Maskull.\n\n\"Yes. I live here.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.\"\n\n\"Yes, it has been touch-and-go.\"\n\nCorpang jumped onto the platform. He was smiling coarsely. \"There\nhas been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a\nferryman, Haunte.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh. \"I thought\nI was carrying men, not gods.\"\n\n\"Where are we?\" asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but Haunte\nremained standing a minute in the boat.\n\n\"This is Sarclash--the second highest mountain in the land.\"\n\n\"Which is the highest, then?\"\n\n\"Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge--very difficult\nin places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, lies the\ntop of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you know the\nlay of the land.\"\n\n\"Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?\"\n\n\"Near enough.\" Haunte grinned.\n\nHe leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony,\nwalked straight into the cave.\n\nMaskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to\na doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed\nhis way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made\nno comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its\nfastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared\nhard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything.\n\nThe place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with\nwalls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways:\nthat by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly\nopposite. The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from\ndoor to door. Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground.\nA number of lumps of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the\nwall, and a few bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were\ntusks, horns, and bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two\nshort hunting spears, having beautiful crystal heads.\n\nHaunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther\ndoor; their light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the\nmeat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously.\n\n\"Are we invited to the feast?\" asked Maskull.\n\nHaunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not\npause in his chewing.\n\n\"Where\'s a cup?\" inquired Maskull, lifting one of the skins.\n\nHaunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up,\nundid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the\ncup. Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed\noff the draught, and then felt much better.\n\nThe second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip,\nswallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to\ndrink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup,\nand began to throw off care.\n\nGoing to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat\ndown on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough\nand coarse, but he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not\nunderstand the flavour, which was not surprising in a world of strange\nanimals. The meal proceeded in silence. Corpang ate sparingly, standing\nup, and afterward lay down on a bundle of furs. His bold eyes watched\nall the movements of the other two. Haunte had not drunk as yet.\n\nAt last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed\npleasantly, and prepared to talk.\n\n\"Now explain further about your women, Haunte.\"\n\nHaunte fetched another skin of liquor and a second cup. He tore off the\nstring with his teeth, and poured out and drank cup after cup in quick\nsuccession. Then he sat down, crossed his legs, and turned to Maskull.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"So they are objectionable?\"\n\n\"They are deadly.\"\n\n\"Deadly? In what way can they possibly be deadly?\"\n\n\"You will learn. I was watching you in the boat, Maskull. You had some\nbad feelings, eh?\"\n\n\"I don\'t conceal it. There were times when I felt as if I were\nstruggling with a nightmare. What caused it?\"\n\n\"The female atmosphere of Lichstorm. Sexual passion.\"\n\n\"I had no passion.\"\n\n\"That was passion--the first stage. Nature tickles your people into\nmarriage, but it tortures us. Wait till you get outside. You\'ll have a\nreturn of those sensations--only ten times worse. The drink you\'ve had\nwill see to that.... How do you suppose it will all end?\"\n\n\"If I knew, I wouldn\'t be asking you questions.\"\n\nHaunte laughed loudly. \"Sullenbode.\"\n\n\"You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?\"\n\n\"But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet,\nfainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?\"\n\nMaskull coolly drank another cup. \"And why should she give all that to a\npasserby?\"\n\n\"Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn\'t it to give. No, what she will\ngive you, and what you\'ll accept from her, because you can\'t help it,\nis--anguish, insanity, possibly death.\"\n\n\"You may be talking sense, but it sounds like raving to me. Why should I\naccept insanity and death?\"\n\n\"Because your passion will force you to.\"\n\n\"What about yourself?\" Maskull asked, biting his nails.\n\n\"Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune.\"\n\n\"Is that all that prevents you from being like other men?\"\n\n\"Yes, but don\'t attempt any tricks, Maskull.\"\n\nMaskull went on drinking steadily, and said nothing for a time. \"So\nmen and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?\" he\nproceeded at last.\n\n\"That magic word.... Shall I tell you what love is, Maskull? Love\nbetween male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is\nMaskull\'s female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land the\nmen are pure males. They have drawn nothing from the female side.\"\n\n\"Where do the male stones come from?\"\n\n\"Oh, they are not freaks. There must be whole beds of the stuff\nsomewhere. It is all that prevents the world from being a pure female\nworld. It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual\nshapes.\"\n\n\"Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?\"\n\n\"The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is dangerous\nto the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?\"\n\nCorpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. \"I remind you of your\npromise to tell about Muspel.\"\n\nHaunte regarded him with a malevolent smile. \"Ha! The underground man\nhas come to life.\"\n\n\"Yes, tell us,\" put in Maskull carelessly.\n\nHaunte drank, and laughed a little. \"Well, the tale\'s short, and hardly\nworth telling, but since you\'re interested.... A stranger came here five\nyears ago, inquiring after Muspel-light. His name was Lodd. He came from\nthe east. He came up to me one bright morning in summer, outside this\nvery cave. If you ask me to describe him--I can\'t imagine a second man\nlike him. He looked so proud, noble, superior, that I felt my own blood\nto be dirty by comparison. You can guess I don\'t have this feeling for\neveryone. Now that I am recalling him, he was not so much superior as\ndifferent. I was so impressed that I rose and talked to him standing. He\ninquired the direction of the mountain Adage. He went on to say, \'They\nsay Muspel-light is sometimes seen there. What do you know of such a\nthing?\' I told him the truth--that I knew nothing about it, and then he\nwent on, \'Well, I am going to Adage. And tell those who come after me\non the same errand that they had better do the same thing.\' That was the\nwhole conversation. He started on his way, and I\'ve never seen him or\nheard of him since.\"\n\n\"So you didn\'t have the curiosity to follow him?\"\n\n\"No, because the moment he had turned his back all my interest in the\nman somehow seemed to vanish.\"\n\n\"Probably because he was useless to you.\"\n\nCorpang glanced at Maskull. \"Our road is marked out for us.\"\n\n\"So it would appear,\" said Maskull indifferently.\n\nThe talk flagged for a time. Maskull felt the silence oppressive, and\ngrew restless.\n\n\"What do you call the colour of your skin, Haunte, as I saw it in\ndaylight? It struck me as strange.\"\n\n\"Dolm,\" said Haunte.\n\n\"A compound of ulfire and blue,\" explained Corpang.\n\n\"Now I know. These colours are puzzling for a stranger.\"\n\n\"What colours have you in your world?\" asked Corpang.\n\n\"Only three primary ones, but here you seem to have five, though how it\ncomes about I can\'t imagine.\"\n\n\"There are two sets of three primary colours here,\" said Corpang, \"but\nas one of the colours--blue--is identical in both sets, altogether there\nare five primary colours.\"\n\n\"Why two sets?\"\n\n\"Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and red;\nAlppain, ulfire, blue, and jale.\"\n\n\"It\'s remarkable that explanation has never occurred to me before.\"\n\n\"So here you have another illustration of the necessary trinity\nof nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a\ncontrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In\nyellow light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red\nis feeling. When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal\nfeelings.... As regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle\nand is therefore not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it\nmust be a different sort of existence.\"\n\nHaunte yawned. \"There are marvellous philosophers in your underground\nhole.\"\n\nMaskull got up and looked about him.\n\n\"Where does that other door lead to?\"\n\n\"Better explore,\" said Haunte.\n\nMaskull took him at his word, and strolled across the cave, flinging the\ncurtain aside and disappearing into the night. Haunte rose abruptly and\nhurried after him.\n\nCorpang too got to his feet. He went over to the untouched spirit skins,\nuntied the necks, and allowed the contents to gush out on to the floor.\nNext he took the hunting spears, and snapped off the points between\nhis hands. Before he had time to resume his seat, Haunte and Maskull\nreappeared. The host\'s quick, shifty eyes at once took in what had\nhappened. He smiled, and turned pale.\n\n\"You haven\'t been idle, friend.\"\n\nCorpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze. \"I thought it well to\ndraw your teeth.\"\n\nMaskull burst out laughing. \"The toad\'s come into the light to some\npurpose, Haunte. Who would have expected it?\"\n\nHaunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly\nuttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him.\nThe two men began to wrestle like wildcats. They were as often on the\nfloor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the\nbetter of it. He made no attempt to separate them. A thought came\ninto his head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them,\nlaughing, through the upper doorway, into the open night air.\n\nThe door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain. A narrow\nledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it\nwas the only available path. He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the\nchasm. Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers\nthan stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind. While Maskull was\nstill watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern,\nfollowed by Corpang. He gripped Maskull\'s arm excitedly.\n\n\"What in Krag\'s name have you done?\"\n\n\"Overboard they have gone,\" replied Maskull, renewing his laughter.\n\n\"You accursed madman!\"\n\nHaunte\'s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal\nlight were breathing. Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion\nof his will.\n\n\"You know this kills me?\"\n\n\"Haven\'t you been doing your best this last hour to make me ripe for\nSullenbode? Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!\"\n\n\"You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.\"\n\nHaunte\'s jeering malevolence had completely vanished. He looked a sick\nman--yet somehow his face had become nobler.\n\n\"I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my being\nalso very sorry for myself. We are now all three together on the same\nerrand--which doesn\'t appear to have struck you yet.\"\n\n\"But why this errand at all?\" asked Corpang quietly. \"Can\'t you men\nexercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?\"\n\nHaunte fixed him with wild eyes. \"No. The phantoms come trooping in on\nme already.\"\n\nHe sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again.\n\n\"And I cannot wait.... the game is started.\"\n\nSoon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte\nin front. It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme\ncaution was demanded. The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and\nrocks.\n\nWhen they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the\nparty, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down.\n\n\"The drink works. My old sensations are returning, but worse.\"\n\nHaunte turned back. \"Then you are a doomed man.\"\n\nMaskull, though fully conscious of his companions and situation,\nimagined that he was being oppressed by a black, shapeless, supernatural\nbeing, who was trying to clasp him. He was filled with horror, trembled\nviolently, yet could not move a limb. Sweat tumbled off his face in\ngreat drops. The waking nightmare lasted a long time, but during that\nspace it kept coming and going. At one moment the vision seemed on the\npoint of departing; the next it almost took shape--which he knew would\nbe his death. Suddenly it vanished altogether--he was free. A fresh\nspring breeze fanned his face; he heard the slow, solitary singing of a\nsweet bird; and it seemed to him as if a poem had shot together in his\nsoul. Such flashing, heartbreaking joy he had never experienced before\nin all his life! Almost immediately that too vanished.\n\nSitting up, he passed his hand across his eyes and swayed quietly, like\none who has been visited by an angel.\n\n\"Your colour changed to white,\" said Corpang. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"I passed through torture to love,\" replied Maskull simply.\n\nHe stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. \"Will you not describe that\npassage?\"\n\nMaskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. \"When I was in Matterplay,\nI saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living\nanimals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to\nconsolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy\nwould not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is\nnot accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through\nmy brain.... You men of Lichstorm don\'t go far enough. You stop at the\npangs, Without realising that they are birth pangs.\"\n\n\"If this is true, you are a great pioneer,\" muttered Haunte.\n\n\"How does this sensation differ from common love?\" interrogated Corpang.\n\n\"This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness.\"\n\nCorpang fingered his chin awhile. \"The Lichstorm men, however, will\nnever reach this stage, for they are too masculine.\"\n\nHaunte turned pale. \"Why should we alone suffer?\"\n\n\"Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn\'t act according to justice....\nFollow us, Haunte, and escape from it all.\"\n\n\"I\'ll see,\" muttered Haunte. \"Perhaps I will.\"\n\n\"Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?\" inquired Maskull.\n\n\"No, her home\'s under the hanging cap of Sarclash.\"\n\n\"What is to happen tonight?\" Maskull spoke to himself, but Haunte\nanswered him.\n\n\"Don\'t expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just occurred. She\nis not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will draw her out\ninto human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were permanent,\nyou would have endowed her with a soul.\"\n\n\"Perhaps the change might be made permanent.\"\n\n\"To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as\nwell. But why should she desire you?\"\n\n\"Nothing turns out as one expects,\" said Maskull, shaking his head. \"We\nhad better get on again.\"\n\nThey resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner\nof the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which\nmounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use\nboth hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the\noverwhelming sweetness he had just experienced.\n\nThe flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and\nbright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left.\n\n\"This must be under the cap,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode.\"\n\nWhen he spoke his words, Maskull\'s lips surprised him by their tender\nsensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills throughout\nhis body.\n\nThe grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into\nsight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but\nno leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful\nlight--a mingling of jale and white--gleamed softly through the\ndarkness. She sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in\na singular skin garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one\nshoulder, and ended as loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her\nforearms were lightly folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten\nfruit.\n\nMaskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he\nhad never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting\nin its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked\nscarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In\ntheir richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a\nbackground of slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour\ncould not be distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked\ninto her garment behind, for convenience.\n\nCorpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly\nagitated. Maskull\'s heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte\npulled him, and said, \"My head feels as if it were being torn from my\nshoulders.\"\n\n\"What can that mean?\"\n\n\"Yet there\'s a horrible joy in it,\" added Haunte, with a sickly smile.\n\nHe put his hand on the woman\'s shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced up at\nthem, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not imagine\nthat she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped on\nhis knees, and kissed her lips.\n\nShe did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull\nnoticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged\nfrom their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The\nsmile faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her\nfeet, and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn.\nMaskull came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but\nnothing indicated what she thought.\n\nMeanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She\nsuffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the second time, he\nfell backward with a startled cry, as though he had come in contact with\nan electric wire. The back of his head struck the ground, and he lay\nthere motionless.\n\nCorpang sprang forward to his assistance. But, when he saw what had\nhappened, he left him where he was.\n\n\"Maskull, come here quickly!\"\n\nThe light was perceptibly fading from Haunte\'s skin, as Maskull bent\nover. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had\nbeen split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with\nstrange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from\nan axe.\n\n\"This couldn\'t be from the fall,\" said Maskull.\n\n\"No, Sullenbode did it.\"\n\nMaskull turned quickly to look at the woman. She had resumed her former\nattitude on the ground. The momentary intelligence had vanished from her\nface, and she was again smiling.\n\n\n\nChapter 19. SULLENBODE\n\nSullenbode\'s naked skin glowed softly through the darkness, but the\nclothed part of her person was invisible. Maskull watched her senseless,\nsmiling face, and shivered. Strange feelings ran through his body.\n\nCorpang spoke out of the night. \"She looks like an evil spirit filled\nwith deadliness.\"\n\n\"It was like deliberately kissing lightning.\"\n\n\"Haunte was insane with passion.\"\n\n\"So am I,\" said Maskull quietly. \"My body seems full of rocks, all\ngrinding against one another.\"\n\n\"This is what I was afraid of.\"\n\n\"It appears I shall have to kiss her too.\"\n\nCorpang pulled his arm. \"Have you lost all manliness?\"\n\nBut Maskull impatiently shook himself free. He plucked nervously at his\nbeard, and stared at Sullenbode. His lips kept twitching. After this had\ngone on for a few minutes, he stepped forward, bent over the woman, and\nlifted her bodily in his arms. Setting her upright against the rugged\ntree trunk, he kissed her.\n\nA cold, knifelike shock passed down his frame. He thought that it was\ndeath, and lost consciousness.\n\nWhen his sense returned, Sullenbode was holding him by the shoulder with\none hand at arm\'s length, searching his face with gloomy eyes. At first\nhe failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but\nanother. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with\nthat which Haunte\'s action had called into existence. A great calmness\ncame upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared.\n\nSullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her\nfeatures were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power.\nShe was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her\nface was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth\ncrossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous\nas before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her--she\nlooked the kingliest of all women. She appeared not more than\ntwenty-five.\n\nGrowing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way\nand allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a\nlong, bowlike smile. \"Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?\"\n\nHer voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream.\n\n\"My name is Maskull.\"\n\nShe motioned to him to come a step nearer. \"Listen, Maskull. Man after\nman has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, for\nI did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for\ngood or evil.\"\n\nMaskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said\nquietly, \"What have you to say about him?\"\n\n\"Who was it?\"\n\n\"Haunte.\"\n\n\"So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a famous\nman.\"\n\n\"It\'s a horrible affair. I can\'t think that you killed him\ndeliberately.\"\n\n\"We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only\nprotection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.\"\n\n\"I might have died, too.\"\n\n\"You came together?\"\n\n\"There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.\"\n\n\"I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.\"\n\n\"No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.\"\n\n\"This is not that pleasure, then?\" demanded the low, earnest voice, out\nof the darkness.\n\n\"No, that pleasure has not returned.\"\n\nSullenbode gripped his arm hard. \"What pleasure are you speaking of?\"\n\n\"A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.\"\n\n\"But what do you feel now?\"\n\n\"Calm and free.\"\n\nSullenbode\'s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling sea\nof elemental passions. \"I do not know how it will end, Maskull, but we\nwill still keep together a little. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"To Adage,\" said Corpang, stepping forward.\n\n\"But why?\"\n\n\"We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to find\nMuspel-light.\"\n\n\"It\'s the light of another world.\"\n\n\"The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?\"\n\n\"On one condition,\" said Corpang. \"They must forget their sex. Womanhood\nand love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.\"\n\n\"I give you all other men,\" said Sullenbode. \"Maskull is mine.\"\n\n\"No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of the\nexistence of nobler things.\"\n\n\"You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to\nAdage.\"\n\n\"Are you acquainted with it?\"\n\nAgain the woman gripped Maskull\'s arm. \"What is love--which Corpang\ndespises?\"\n\nMaskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, \"Love is that\nwhich is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake\nof the beloved.\"\n\nCorpang wrinkled his forehead. \"A magnanimous female lover is new in my\nexperience.\"\n\nMaskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, \"Are you\ncontemplating a sacrifice?\"\n\nShe gazed at her feet, and smiled. \"What does it matter what my thoughts\nare? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest first?\nIt\'s a rough road to Adage.\"\n\n\"What\'s in your mind?\" demanded Maskull.\n\n\"I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash and\nAdage, perhaps I shall turn back.\"\n\n\"And then?\"\n\n\"Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, but if\nit is dark it\'s hardly likely.\"\n\n\"That\'s not what I meant. What will become of you after we have parted\ncompany?\"\n\n\"I shall return somewhere--perhaps here.\"\n\nMaskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. \"Shall\nyou sink back into--the old state?\"\n\n\"No, Maskull, thank heaven.\"\n\n\"Then how will you live?\"\n\nSullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There\nwas a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. \"And who said I would go on\nliving?\"\n\nMaskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he\nspoke again. \"You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can\'t leave\nyou like this.\"\n\nTheir eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed.\n\n\"You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us go....\nCorpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others--who\naren\'t so single-minded--can do is to help him to his destination. We\nmustn\'t inquire whether the destination of single-minded men is as a\nrule worth arriving at.\"\n\n\"If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.\"\n\n\"Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.\"\n\nCorpang gave a wry smile. \"During your long sleep you appear to have\npicked up wisdom.\"\n\n\"Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.\"\n\nAs they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte.\n\n\"Can we not bury that poor fellow?\"\n\n\"By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not\ninclude Corpang.\"\n\n\"We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I am\nthe real murderer. I stole his protecting light.\"\n\n\"Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.\" They left\nthe spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three men had\narrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the\nsame time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep,\npathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies\nshone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but\nMaskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady.\nThey walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and\nfascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an\nalluring girl and a half-infatuated man.\n\nFor a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope,\nmaintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a\nfalse step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right.\nAfter a while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground,\nand they seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The\nascending slope on the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards\nmore. Then Sullenbode bore sharply to the left, and they found level\nground all around them.\n\n\"We are on the ridge,\" announced the woman, halting.\n\nThe others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst\nthrough the clouds, illuminating the whole scene.\n\nMaskull uttered a cry. The wild, noble, lonely beauty of the view was\nquite unexpected. Teargeld was high in the sky to their left, shining\ndown on them from behind. Straight in front, like an enormously wide,\nsmoothly descending road, lay the great ridge which went on to Adage,\nthough Adage itself was out of sight. It was never less than two hundred\nyards wide. It was covered with green snow, in some places entirely, but\nin other places the naked rocks showed through like black teeth. From\nwhere they stood they were unable to see the sides of the ridge, or what\nlay underneath. On the right hand, which was north, the landscape was\nblurred and indistinct. There were no peaks there; it was the distant,\nlow-lying land of Barey. But on the left hand appeared a whole forest\nof mighty pinnacles, near and far, as far as the eye could see in\nmoonlight. All glittered green, and all possessed the extraordinary\nhanging caps that characterised the Lichstorm range. These caps were\nof fantastic shapes, and each one was different. The valley directly\nopposite them was filled with rolling mist.\n\nSarclash was a mighty mountain mass in the shape of a horseshoe. Its two\nends pointed west, and were separated from each other by a mile or more\nof empty space. The northern end became the ridge on which they stood.\nThe southern end was the long line of cliffs on that part of the\nmountain where Haunte\'s cave was situated. The connecting curve was the\nsteep slope they had just traversed. One peak of Sarclash was invisible.\n\nIn the south-west many mountains raised their heads. In addition, a few\nsummits, which must have been of extraordinary height, appeared over the\nsouth side of the horseshoe.\n\nMaskull turned round to put a question to Sullenbode, but when he saw\nher for the first time in moonlight the words he had framed died on his\nlips. The gashlike mouth no longer dominated her other features, and the\nface, pale as ivory and most femininely shaped, suddenly became almost\nbeautiful. The lips were a long, womanish curve of rose-red. Her hair\nwas a dark maroon. Maskull was greatly disturbed; he thought that she\nresembled a spirit, rather than a woman.\n\n\"What puzzles you?\" she asked, smiling.\n\n\"Nothing. But I would like to see you by sunlight.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you never will.\"\n\n\"Your life must be most solitary.\"\n\nShe explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes. \"Why do\nyou fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means I\ncan\'t say.\"\n\nSullenbode laughed outright. \"It assuredly does not mean the approach of\nnight.\"\n\nCorpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly\nbroke in. \"The road is plain now, Maskull. If you wish it, I\'ll go on\nalone.\"\n\n\"No, we\'ll go on together. Sullenbode will accompany us.\"\n\n\"A little way,\" said the woman, \"but not to Adage, to pit my strength\nagainst unseen powers. That light is not for me. I know how to renounce\nlove, but I will never be a traitor to it.\"\n\n\"Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen? Corpang is\nas ignorant as myself.\"\n\nCorpang looked him full in the face. \"Maskull, you are quite well\naware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a\nbeautiful woman.\"\n\nMaskull gave an uneasy laugh. \"What Corpang doesn\'t tell you,\nSullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than\nhe, and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying\nhis prayers in Threal.\"\n\n\"Still, what he says must be true,\" she replied, looking from one to the\nother.\n\n\"And so I am not to be allowed to--\"\n\n\"So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not backward,\nMaskull.\"\n\n\"We need not quarrel yet,\" he remarked, with a forced smile. \"No doubt\nthings will straighten themselves out.\"\n\nSullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. \"I picked up\nanother piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.\"\n\n\"Tell it to me, then.\"\n\n\"Men who live by laws and rules are parasites. Others shed their\nstrength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but\nthe law-abiders live at their ease--they have conquered nothing for\nthemselves.\"\n\n\"It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and perfect.\nYou cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.\"\n\n\"No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.\"\n\nThey started walking again along the centre of the ridge. All three were\nabreast, Sullenbode in the middle.\n\nThe road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance\ncomparatively smooth. The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth,\nfor the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm\nto their naked feet. Maskull\'s soles were by now like tough hides. The\nmoonlit snow was green and dazzling. Their slanting, abbreviated shadows\nwere sharply defined, and red-black in colour. Maskull, who walked\non Sullenbode\'s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the\ngalaxy of glorious distant peaks.\n\n\"You cannot belong to this world,\" said the woman. \"Men of your stamp\nare not to be looked for here.\"\n\n\"No, I have come here from Earth.\"\n\n\"Is that larger than our world?\"\n\n\"Smaller, I think. Small, and overcrowded with men and women. With all\nthose people, confusion would result but for orderly laws, and\ntherefore the laws are of iron. As adventure would be impossible without\nencroaching on these laws, there is no longer any spirit of adventure\namong the Earthmen. Everything is safe, vulgar, and completed.\"\n\n\"Do men hate women there, and women men?\"\n\n\"No, the meeting of the sexes is sweet, though shameful. So poignant is\nthe sweetness that the accompanying shame is ignored, with open eyes.\nThere is no hatred, or only among a few eccentric persons.\"\n\n\"That shame surely must be the rudiment of our Lichstorm passion. But\nnow say--why did you come here?\"\n\n\"To meet with new experiences, perhaps. The old ones no longer\ninterested me.\"\n\n\"How long have you been in this world?\"\n\n\"This is the end of my fourth day.\"\n\n\"Then tell me what you have seen and done during those four days. You\ncannot have been inactive.\"\n\n\"Great misfortunes have happened to me.\"\n\nHe proceeded briefly to relate everything that had taken place from\nthe moment of his first awakening in the scarlet desert. Sullenbode\nlistened, with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time.\nonly twice did she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin\'s\ndeath, she said, speaking in a low voice--\"None of us women ought by\nright of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act\nof hers, I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door.\"\nAgain, speaking of Gleameil, she remarked, \"That grand-souled girl I\nadmire the most of all. She listened to her inner voice, and to nothing\nelse besides. Which of us others is strong enough for that?\"\n\nWhen his tale was quite over, Sullenbode said, \"Does it not strike you,\nMaskull, that these women you have met have been far nobler than the\nmen?\"\n\n\"I recognise that. We men often sacrifice ourselves, but only for a\nsubstantial cause. For you women almost any cause will serve. You love\nthe sacrifice for its own sake, and that is because you are naturally\nnoble.\"\n\nTurning her head a little, she threw him a smile so proud, yet so sweet,\nthat he was struck into silence.\n\nThey tramped on quietly for some distance, and then he said, \"Now you\nunderstand the sort of man I am. Much brutality, more weakness, scant\npity for anyone--Oh, it has been a bloody journey!\"\n\nShe laid her hand on his arm. \"I, for one, would not have it less\nrugged.\"\n\n\"Nothing good can be said of my crimes.\"\n\n\"To me you seem like a lonely giant, searching for you know not what....\nThe grandest that life holds.... You at least have no cause to look up\nto women.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Sullenbode!\" he responded, with a troubled smile.\n\n\"When Maskull passes, let people watch. Everyone is thrown out of your\nroad. You go on, looking neither to right nor left.\"\n\n\"Take care that you are not thrown as well,\" said Corpang gravely.\n\n\"Maskull shall do with me whatever he pleases, old skull! And for\nwhatever he does, I will thank him.... In place of a heart you have a\nbag of loose dust. Someone has described love to you. You have had it\ndescribed to you. You have heard that it is a small, fearful, selfish\njoy. It is not that--it is wild, and scornful, and sportive, and\nbloody.... How should you know.\"\n\n\"Selfishness has far too many disguises.\"\n\n\"If a woman wills to give up all, what can there be selfish in that?\"\n\n\"Only do not deceive yourself. Act decisively, or fate will be too swift\nfor you both.\"\n\nSullenbode studied him through her lashes. \"Do you mean death--his death\nas well as mine?\"\n\n\"You go too far, Corpang,\" said Maskull, turning a shade darker. \"I\ndon\'t accept you as the arbiter of our fortunes.\"\n\n\"If honest counsel is disagreeable to you, let me go on ahead.\"\n\nThe woman detained him with her slow, light fingers. \"I wish you to stay\nwith us.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"I think you may know what you are talking about. I don\'t wish to bring\nharm to Maskull. Presently I\'ll leave you.\"\n\n\"That will be best,\" said Corpang.\n\nMaskull looked angry. \"I shall decide--Sullenbode, whether you go on, or\nback, I stay with you. My mind is made up.\"\n\nAn expression of joyousness overspread her face, in spite of her efforts\nto conceal it. \"Why do you scowl at me, Maskull?\"\n\nHe returned no answer, but continued walking onward with puckered brows.\nAfter a dozen paces or so, he halted abruptly. \"Wait, Sullenbode!\"\n\nThe others came to a standstill. Corpang looked puzzled, but the woman\nsmiled. Maskull, without a word, bent over and kissed her lips. Then he\nrelinquished her body, and turned around to Corpang.\n\n\"How do you, in your great wisdom, interpret that kiss?\"\n\n\"It requires no great wisdom to interpret kisses, Maskull.\"\n\n\"Hereafter, never dare to come between us. Sullenbode belongs to me.\"\n\n\"Then I say no more; but you are a fated man.\"\n\nFrom that time forward he spoke not another word to either of the\nothers.\n\nA heavy gleam appeared in the woman\'s eyes. \"Now things are changed,\nMaskull. Where are you taking me?\"\n\n\"Choose, you.\"\n\n\"The man I love must complete his journey. I won\'t have it otherwise.\nYou shall not stand lower than Corpang.\"\n\n\"Where you go, I will go.\"\n\n\"And I--as long as your love endures, I will accompany you even to\nAdage.\"\n\n\"Do you doubt its lasting?\"\n\n\"I wish not to.... Now I will tell you what I refused to tell you\nbefore. The term of your love is the term of my life. When you love me\nno longer, I must die.\"\n\n\"And why?\" asked Maskull slowly.\n\n\"Yes, that\'s the responsibility you incurred when you kissed me for the\nfirst time. I never meant to tell you.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that if I had gone on alone, you would have died?\"\n\n\"I have no other life but what you give me.\"\n\nHe gazed at her mournfully, without attempting to reply, and then slowly\nplaced his arms around her body. During this embrace he turned very\npale, but Sullenbode grew as white as chalk.\n\nA few minutes later the journey toward Adage was resumed.\n\nThey had been walking for two hours. Teargeld was higher in the sky\nand nearer the south. They had descended many hundred feet, and the\ncharacter of the ridge began to alter for the worse. The thin snow\ndisappeared, and gave way to moist, boggy ground. It was all little\ngrassy hillocks and marshes. They began to slip about and become\ndraggled with mud. Conversation ceased; Sullenbode led the way, and\nthe men followed in her tracks. The southern half of the landscape\ngrew grander. The greenish light of the brilliant moon, shining on\nthe multitude of snow-green peaks, caused it to appear like a spectral\nworld. Their nearest neighbour towered high above them on the other side\nof the valley, due south, some five miles distant. It was a slender,\ninaccessible, dizzy spire of black rock, the angles of which were too\nsteep to retain snow. A great upward-curving horn of rock sprang out\nfrom its topmost pinnacle. For a long time it constituted their clues\nlandmark.\n\nThe whole ridge gradually became saturated with moisture. The surface\nsoil was spongy, and rested on impermeable rock; it breathed in the damp\nmists by night, and breathed them out again by day, under Branchspell\'s\nrays. The walking grew first unpleasant, then difficult, and finally\ndangerous. None of the party could distinguish firm ground from bog.\nSullenbode sank up to her waist in a pit of slime; Maskull rescued her,\nbut after this incident took the lead himself. Corpang was the next to\nmeet with trouble. Exploring a new path for himself, he tumbled into\nliquid mud up to his shoulders, and narrowly escaped a filthy death.\nAfter Maskull had got him out, at great personal risk, they proceeded\nonce more; but now the scramble changed from bad to worse. Each step had\nto be thoroughly tested before weight was put upon it, and even so the\ntest frequently failed. All of them went in so often, that in the end\nthey no longer resembled human beings, but walking pillars plastered\nfrom top to toe with black filth. The hardest work fell to Maskull. He\nnot only had the exhausting task of beating the way, but was continually\ncalled upon to help his companions out of their difficulties. Without\nhim they could not have got through.\n\nAfter a peculiarly evil patch, they paused to recruit their strength.\nCorpang\'s breathing was difficult, Sullenbode was quiet, listless, and\ndepressed.\n\nMaskull gazed at them doubtfully. \"Does this continue?\" he inquired.\n\n\"No. I think,\" replied the woman, \"we can\'t be far from the Mornstab\nPass. After that we shall begin to climb again, and then the road will\nimprove perhaps.\"\n\n\"Can you have been here before?\"\n\n\"Once I have been to the Pass, but it was not so bad then.\"\n\n\"You are tired out, Sullenbode.\"\n\n\"What of it?\" she replied, smiling faintly. \"When one has a terrible\nlover, one must pay the price.\"\n\n\"We cannot get there tonight, so let us stop at the first shelter we\ncome too.\"\n\n\"I leave it to you.\"\n\nHe paced up and down, while the others sat. \"Do you regret anything?\" he\ndemanded suddenly.\n\n\"No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.\"\n\n\"Your feelings are unchanged?\"\n\n\"Love can\'t go back--it can only go on.\"\n\n\"Yes, eternally on. It is so.\"\n\n\"No, I don\'t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax has been\nreached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.\"\n\n\"That\'s a dreadful creed,\" he said in a low voice, turning pale beneath\nhis coating of mud.\n\n\"Perhaps my nature is discordant.... I am tired. I don\'t know what I\nfeel.\"\n\nIn a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey\nrecommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass.\n\nThe ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain\noff the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge\nof the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was\nnothing but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was\nthe lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces\nof earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with\nstunted vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands\nthat way, but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to cast\nand west, the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs.\nA low haze concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air,\nbroken only by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall.\n\nMaskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country.\nThe moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an\nEarth day.\n\n\"Tonight is like life,\" said Sullenbode.\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.\"\n\nMaskull sighed. \"Poor girl, you are unhappy.\"\n\n\"And you--are you happy?\"\n\nHe thought a while, and then replied--\"No. No, I\'m not happy. Love is\nnot happiness.\"\n\n\"What is it, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Restlessness--unshed tears--thoughts too grand for our soul to\nthink...\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Sullenbode.\n\nAfter a time she asked, \"Why were we created, just to live for a few\nyears and then disappear?\"\n\n\"We are told that we shall live again.\"\n\n\"Yes, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Perhaps in Muspel,\" he added thoughtfully.\n\n\"What kind of life will that be?\"\n\n\"Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a\nthing to remain uncompleted.\"\n\nShe gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. \"This dream is\nuntrue. Love is completed here.\"\n\n\"How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by\nFate?\"\n\n\"It is completed by anguish.... Oh, why must it always be enjoyment\nfor us? Can\'t we suffer--can\'t we go on suffering, forever and ever?\nMaskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and without remedy, we\ndon\'t begin to feel ourselves.\"\n\nMaskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. \"Can the memory of love\nbe worth more than its presence and reality?\"\n\n\"You don\'t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all the rest\nbeside.\" She caught at him. \"Oh, if you could only see inside my mind,\nMaskull! You would see strange things.... I can\'t explain. It is all\nconfused, even to myself.... This love is quite different from what I\nthought.\"\n\nHe sighed again. \"Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong for\nhuman beings. And I think that it overtures our reason in different\nways.\"\n\nThey remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with\nunseeing eyes.\n\n\"It doesn\'t matter,\" said Sullenbode at last, with a smile, getting up.\n\"Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, let us be off!\"\n\nMaskull too got up.\n\n\"Where\'s Corpang?\" he asked listlessly.\n\nThey both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the\npoint where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly\ntoward the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy\nlist. Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards,\nbut then a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from\nside to side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out\nall further view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to\nthe other, was crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining\nbrightly in the moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were\nabout thirty in all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that\nthere was little doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some\nwere perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme\nantiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing\nthe hill, not far from the top.\n\n\"He wishes to arrive,\" said Maskull, watching the energetic ascent with\na rather cynical smile.\n\n\"The heavens won\'t open for Corpang,\" returned Sullenbode. \"He need not\nbe in such a hurry.... What do these pillars seem like to you?\"\n\n\"They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have planted\nthem there?\"\n\nShe did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill,\nand disappear through the line of posts.\n\nMaskull turned again to Sullenbode. \"Now we two are alone in a lonely\nworld.\"\n\nShe regarded him steadily. \"Our last night on this earth must be a grand\none. I am ready to go on.\"\n\n\"I don\'t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go down the\npass a little, and find shelter.\"\n\nShe half smiled. \"We won\'t study our poor bodies tonight. I mean you to\ngo to Adage, Maskull.\"\n\n\"Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, terrible\nclimb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?\"\n\nShe walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to\nhim. \"Come, Maskull!\"\n\nWhen they had covered half the distance that separated them from the\nfoot of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the\nhill, and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode,\nbut she appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind\nand above the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began\nto be illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter\nfaded; the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the\nlight of Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid,\npeculiar, and awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing--it was\nsupernatural and indescribable. Maskull\'s spirit swelled. He stood fast,\nwith expanded nostrils and terrible eyes.\n\nSullenbode touched him lightly.\n\n\"What do you see, Maskull?\"\n\n\"Muspel-light.\"\n\n\"I see nothing.\"\n\nThe light shot up, until Maskull scarcely knew where he stood. It\nburned with a fiercer and stranger glare than ever before. He forgot the\nexistence of Sullenbode. The drum beats grew deafeningly loud. Each beat\nwas like a rip of startling thunder, crashing through the sky and making\nthe air tremble. Presently the crashes coalesced, and one continuous\nroar of thunder rocked the world. But the rhythm persisted--the\nfour beats, with the third accented, still came pulsing through the\natmosphere, only now against a background of thunder, and not of\nsilence.\n\nMaskull\'s heart beat wildly. His body was like a prison. He longed to\nthrow it off, to spring up and become incorporated with the sublime\nuniverse which was beginning to unveil itself.\n\nSullenbode suddenly enfolded him in her arms, and kissed\nhim--passionately, again and again. He made no response; he was unaware\nof what she was doing. She unclasped him and, with bent head and\nstreaming eyes, went noiselessly away. She started to go back toward the\nMornstab Pass.\n\nA few minutes afterward the radiance began to fade. The thunder died\ndown. The moonlight reappeared, the stone posts and the hillside were\nagain bright. In a short time the supernatural light had entirely\nvanished, but the drum taps still sounded faintly, a muffled rhythm,\nfrom behind the hill. Maskull started violently, and stared around him\nlike a suddenly awakened sleeper.\n\nHe saw Sullenbode walking slowly away from him, a few hundred yards\noff. At that sight, death entered his heart. He ran after her, calling\nout.... She did not look around. When he had lessened the distance\nbetween them by a half, he saw her suddenly stumble and fall. She did\nnot get up again, but lay motionless where she fell.\n\nHe flew toward her, and bent over her body. His worst fears were\nrealised. Life had departed.\n\nBeneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman\ngrin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful\nto him as at that moment.\n\nHe remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept--but,\nbetween his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and\nlistened to the distant drum beats.\n\nAn hour passed--two hours. Teargeld was now in the south-west. Maskull\nlifted Sullenbode\'s dead body on to his shoulders, and started to walk\ntoward the Pass. He cared no more for Muspel. He intended to look for\nwater in which to wash the corpse of his beloved, and earth in which to\nbury her.\n\nWhen he had reached the boulder overlooking the landslip, on which they\nhad sat together, he lowered his burden, and, placing the dead girl\non the stone, seated himself beside her for a time, gazing over toward\nBarey.\n\nAfter that, he commenced his descent of the Mornstab Pass.\n\n\n\nChapter 20. BAREY\n\nThe day had already dawned, but it was not yet sunrise when Maskull\nawoke from his miserable sleep. He sat up and yawned feebly. The air was\ncool and sweet. Far away down the landslip a bird was singing; the song\nconsisted of only two notes, but it was so plaintive and heartbreaking\nthat he scarcely knew how to endure it.\n\nThe eastern sky was a delicate green, crossed by a long, thin band\nof chocolate-coloured cloud near the horizon. The atmosphere was\nblue-tinted, mysterious, and hazy. Neither Sarclash nor Adage was\nvisible.\n\nThe saddle of the Pass was five hundred feet above him; he had descended\nthat distance overnight. The landslip continued downward, like a huge\nflying staircase, to the upper slopes of Barey, which lay perhaps\nfifteen hundred feet beneath. The surface of the Pass was rough, and the\nangle was excessively steep, though not precipitous. It was above a mile\nacross. On each side of it, east and west, the dark walls of the ridge\ndescended sheer. At the point where the pass sprang outward they were\ntwo thousand feet from top to bottom, but as the ridge went upward, on\nthe one hand toward Adage, on the other toward Sarclash, they attained\nalmost unbelievable heights. Despite the great breadth and solidity of\nthe pass, Maskull felt as though he were suspended in midair.\n\nThe patch of broken, rich, brown soil observable not far away marked\nSullenbode\'s grave. He had interred her by the light of the moon, with a\nlong, flat stone for a spade. A little lower down, the white steam of a\nhot spring was curling about in the twilight. From where he sat he was\nunable to see the pool into which the spring ultimately flowed, but it\nwas in that pool that he had last night washed first of all the dead\ngirl\'s body, and then his own.\n\nHe got up, yawned again, stretched himself, and looked around him\ndully. For a long time he eyed the grave. The half-darkness changed by\nimperceptible degrees to full day; the sun was about to appear. The sky\nwas nearly cloudless. The whole wonderful extent of the mighty ridge\nbehind him began to emerge from the morning mist... there was a part\nof Sarclash, and the ice-green crest of gigantic Adage itself, which he\ncould only take in by throwing his head right back.\n\nHe gazed at everything in weary apathy, like a lost soul. All his\ndesires were gone forever; he wished to go nowhere, and to do nothing.\nHe thought he would go to Barey.\n\nHe went to the warm pool, to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Sitting\nbeside it, watching the bubbles, was Krag.\n\nMaskull thought that he was dreaming. The man was clothed in a skin\nshirt and breeches. His face was stem, yellow, and ugly. He eyed Maskull\nwithout smiling or getting up.\n\n\"Where in the devil\'s name have you come from, Krag?\"\n\n\"The great point is, I am here.\"\n\n\"Where\'s Nightspore?\"\n\n\"Not far away.\"\n\n\"It seems a hundred years since I saw you. Why did you two leave me in\nsuch a damnable fashion?\"\n\n\"You were strong enough to get through alone.\"\n\n\"So it turned out, but how were you to know?.... Anyway, you\'ve timed it\nwell. It seems I am to die today.\"\n\nKrag scowled. \"You will die this morning.\"\n\n\"If I am to, I shall. But where have you heard it from?\"\n\n\"You are ripe for it. You have run through the gamut. What else is there\nto live for?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" said Maskull, uttering a short laugh. \"I am quite ready.\nI have failed in everything. I only wondered how you knew.... So now\nyou\'ve come to rejoin me. Where are we going?\"\n\n\"Through Barey.\"\n\n\"And what about Nightspore?\"\n\nKrag jumped to his feet with clumsy agility. \"We won\'t wait for him.\nHe\'ll be there as soon as we shall.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"At our destination.... Come! The sun\'s rising.\"\n\nAs they started clambering down the pass side by side, Branchspell, huge\nand white, leaped fiercely into the sky. All the delicacy of the dawn\nvanished, and another vulgar day began. They passed some trees and\nplants, the leaves of which were all curled up, as if in sleep.\n\nMaskull pointed them out to his companion.\n\n\"How is it the sunshine doesn\'t open them?\"\n\n\"Branchspell is a second night to them. Their day is Alppain.\"\n\n\"How long will it be before that sun rises?\"\n\n\"Some time yet.\"\n\n\"Shall I live to see it, do you think?\"\n\n\"Do you want to?\"\n\n\"At one time I did, but now I\'m indifferent.\"\n\n\"Keep in that humour, and you\'ll do well. Once for all, there\'s nothing\nworth seeing on Tormance.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes Maskull said, \"Why did we come here, then?\"\n\n\"To follow Surtur.\"\n\n\"True. But where is he?\"\n\n\"Closer at hand than you think, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Do you know that he is regarded as a god here, Krag?... There is\nsupernatural fire, too, which I have been led to believe is somehow\nconnected with him.... Why do you keep up the mystery? Who and what is\nSurtur?\"\n\n\"Don\'t disturb yourself about that. You will never know.\"\n\n\"Do you know?\"\n\n\"I know,\" snarled Krag.\n\n\"The devil here is called Krag,\" went on Maskull, peering into his face.\n\n\"As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil.\"\n\n\"Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I to\nbelieve of you?\"\n\n\"Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman.\"\n\nThey continued descending the landslip. The sun\'s rays had grown\ninsufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance,\nMaskull saw water and land intermingled. It appeared that they were\ntravelling toward a lake district.\n\n\"What have you and Nightspore been doing during the last four days,\nKrag? What happened to the torpedo?\"\n\n\"You\'re just about on the same mental level as a man who sees a\nbrand-new palace, and asks what has become of the scaffolding.\"\n\n\"What palace have you been building, then?\"\n\n\"We have not been idle,\" said Krag. \"While you have been murdering and\nlovemaking, we have had our work.\"\n\n\"And how have you been made acquainted with my actions?\"\n\n\"Oh, you\'re an open book. Now you\'ve got a mortal heart wound on account\nof a woman you knew for six hours.\"\n\nMaskull turned pale. \"Sneer away, Krag! If you lived with a woman for\nsix hundred years and saw her die, that would never touch your leather\nheart. You haven\'t even the feelings of an insect.\"\n\n\"Behold the child defending its toys!\" said Krag, grinning faintly.\n\nMaskull stopped short. \"What do you want with me, and why did you bring\nme here?\"\n\n\"It\'s no use stopping, even for the sake of theatrical effect,\" said\nKrag, pulling him into motion again. \"The distance has got to be\ncovered, however often we pull up.\"\n\nWhen he touched him, Maskull felt a terrible shooting pain through his\nheart.\n\n\"I can\'t go on regarding you as a man, Krag. You\'re something more than\na man--whether good or evil, I can\'t say.\"\n\nKrag looked yellow and formidable. He did not reply to Maskull\'s remark,\nbut after a pause said, \"So you\'ve been trying to find Surtur on your\nown account, during the intervals between killing and fondling?\"\n\n\"What was that drumming?\" demanded Maskull.\n\n\"You needn\'t look so important. We know you had your ear to the keyhole.\nBut you could join the assembly, the music was not playing for you, my\nfriend.\"\n\nMaskull smiled rather bitterly. \"At all events, I listen through no more\nkeyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing any\nmore, from this time forward.\"\n\n\"Brave Words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will make\none more attempt on you. There is still time for one more.\"\n\n\"Now I don\'t understand you.\"\n\n\"You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don\'t you? Well, that may\nprove to be the last and strongest illusion of all.\"\n\nThe conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour\nlater. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was\napproaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it\nwould clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive,\nsaucer-shaped ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was\nglowing with bright morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands\nof feet higher still, guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In\nfront of them, starting from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting\nwilderness of little lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark\ngreen; the forests were asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain.\n\n\"Are we now in Barey?\" asked Maskull.\n\n\"Yes--and there is one of the natives.\"\n\nThere was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull\ndid not see it.\n\nA man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees,\napparently waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and\nbeardless, and was still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark\nblue, loosely flowing robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His\nface, which was not disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest,\nand grave, yet somehow remarkably pleasing.\n\nBefore a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull\'s hand, but even\nwhile he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The\nlatter responded with a scowling grin.\n\nWhen he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone,\nbut it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and\nvariety of tone.\n\n\"I\'ve been waiting for you here since sunrise,\" he said. \"Welcome\nto Barey, Maskull! Let\'s hope you\'ll forget your sorrows here, you\nover-tested man.\"\n\nMaskull stared at him, not without friendliness. \"What made you expect\nme, and how do you know my name?\"\n\nThe stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. \"I\'m Gangnet. I\nknow most things.\"\n\n\"Haven\'t you a greeting for me too--Gangnet?\" asked Krag, thrusting his\nforbidding features almost into the other\'s face.\n\n\"I know you, Krag. There are few places where you are welcome.\"\n\n\"And I know you, Gangnet--you man-woman.... Well, we are here together,\nand you must make what you can of it. We are going down to the Ocean.\"\n\nThe smile faded from Gangnet\'s face. \"I can\'t drive you away, Krag--but\nI can make you the unwelcome third.\"\n\nKrag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. \"That bargain\nsuits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have the\nshadow, and much good may it do you.\"\n\n\"Now that it\'s all arranged so satisfactorily,\" said Maskull, with a\nhard smile, \"permit me to say that I don\'t desire any society at all\nat present.... You take too much for granted, Krag. You have played the\nfalse friend once already.... I presume I\'m a free agent?\"\n\n\"To be a free man, one must have a universe of one\'s own,\" said Krag,\nwith a jeering look. \"What do you say, Gangnet--is this a free world?\"\n\n\"Freedom from pain and ugliness should be every man\'s privilege,\"\nreturned Gangnet tranquilly. \"Maskull is quite within his rights, and if\nyou\'ll engage to leave him I\'ll do the same.\"\n\n\"Maskull can change face as often as he likes, but he won\'t get rid of\nme so easily. Be easy on that point, Maskull.\"\n\n\"It doesn\'t matter,\" muttered Maskull. \"Let everyone join in the\nprocession. In a few hours I shall finally be free, anyhow, if what they\nsay is true.\"\n\n\"I\'ll lead the way,\" said Gangnet. \"You don\'t know this country, of\ncourse, Maskull. When we get to the flat lands some miles farther down,\nwe shall be able to travel by water, but at present we must walk, I\nfear.\"\n\n\"Yes, you fear--you fear!\" broke out Krag, in a highpitched, scraping\nvoice. \"You eternal loller!\"\n\nMaskull kept looking from one to the other in amazement. There seemed to\nbe a determined hostility between the two, which indicated an intimate\nprevious acquaintance.\n\nThey set off through a wood, keeping close to its border, so that for a\nmile or more they were within sight of the long, narrow lake that flowed\nbeside it. The trees were low and thin; their dolm-coloured leaves were\nall folded. There was no underbrush--they walked on clean, brown\nearth, A distant waterfall sounded. They were in shade, but the air was\npleasantly warm. There were no insects to irritate them. The bright lake\noutside looked cool and poetic.\n\nGangnet pressed Maskull\'s arm affectionately. \"If the bringing of you\nfrom your world had fallen to me, Maskull, it is here I would have\nbrought you, and not to the scarlet desert. Then you would have escaped\nthe dark spots, and Tormance would have appeared beautiful to you.\"\n\n\"And what then, Gangnet? The dark spots would have existed all the\nsame.\"\n\n\"You could have seen them afterward. It makes all the difference whether\none sees darkness through the light, or brightness through the shadows.\"\n\n\"A clear eye is the best. Tormance is an ugly world, and I greatly\nprefer to know it as it really is.\"\n\n\"The devil made it ugly, not Crystalman. These are Crystalman\'s\nthoughts, which you see around you. He is nothing but Beauty and\nPleasantness. Even Krag won\'t have the effrontery to deny that.\"\n\n\"It\'s very nice here,\" said Krag, looking around him malignantly. \"One\nonly wants a cushion and half a dozen houris to complete it.\"\n\nMaskull disengaged himself from Gangnet. \"Last night, when I was\nstruggling through the mud in the ghastly moonlight--then I thought the\nworld beautiful.\"\n\n\"Poor Sullenbode!\" said Gangnet sighing.\n\n\"What! You knew her?\"\n\n\"I know her through you. By mourning for a noble woman, you show your\nown nobility. I think all women are noble.\"\n\n\"There may be millions of noble women, but there\'s only one Sullenbode.\"\n\n\"If Sullenbode can exist,\" said Gangnet, \"the world cannot be a bad\nplace.\"\n\n\"Change the subject.... The world\'s hard and cruel, and I am thankful to\nbe leaving it.\"\n\n\"On one point, though, you both agree,\" said Krag, smiling evilly.\n\"Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad.\"\n\nGangnet glanced at him coldly. \"We know your peculiar theories, Krag.\nYou are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could not\ngo on being, without pleasure.\"\n\n\"So Gangnet thinks!\" jeered Krag.\n\nThey came to the end of the wood, and found themselves overlooking a\nlittle cliff. At the foot of it, about fifty feet below, a fresh series\nof lakes and forests commenced. Barey appeared to be one big mountain\nslope, built by nature into terraces. The lake along whose border they\nhad been travelling was not banked at the end, but overflowed to the\nlower level in half a dozen beautiful, threadlike falls, white and\nthrowing off spray. The cliff was not perpendicular, and the men found\nit easy to negotiate.\n\nAt the base they entered another wood. Here it was much denser, and they\nhad nothing but trees all around them. A clear brook rippled through the\nheart of it; they followed its bank.\n\n\"It has occurred to me,\" said Maskull, addressing Gangnet, \"that Alppain\nmay be my death. Is that so?\"\n\n\"These trees don\'t fear Alppain, so why should you? Alppain is a\nwonderful, life-bringing sun.\"\n\n\"The reason I ask is--I\'ve seen its afterglow, and it produced such\nviolent sensations that a very little more would have proved too much.\"\n\n\"Because the forces were evenly balanced. When you see Alppain itself,\nit will reign supreme, and there will be no more struggling of wills\ninside you.\"\n\n\"And that, I may tell you beforehand, Maskull,\" said Krag, grinning, \"is\nCrystalman\'s trump card.\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\"\n\n\"You\'ll see. You\'ll renounce the world so eagerly that you\'ll want to\nstay in the world merely to enjoy your sensations.\"\n\nGangnet smiled. \"Krag, you see, is hard to please. You must neither\nenjoy, nor renounce. What are you to do?\"\n\nMaskull turned toward Krag. \"It\'s very odd, but I don\'t understand your\ncreed even yet. Are you recommending suicide?\"\n\nKrag seemed to grow sallower and more repulsive every minute. \"What,\nbecause they have left off stroking you?\" he exclaimed, laughing and\nshowing his discoloured teeth.\n\n\"Whoever you are, and whatever you want,\" said Maskull, \"you seem very\ncertain of yourself.\"\n\n\"Yes, you would like me to blush and stammer like a booby, wouldn\'t you!\nThat would be an excellent way of destroying lies.\"\n\nGangnet glanced toward the foot of one of the trees. He stooped and\npicked up two or three objects that resembled eggs.\n\n\"To eat?\" asked Maskull, accepting the offered gift.\n\n\"Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one mustn\'t\ninsult Krag by offering him a pleasure--especially such a low pleasure.\"\n\nMaskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid\ncontents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag snatched the remaining, egg\nout of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and\nstuck, a splash of slime.\n\n\"I don\'t wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a filthier sight\nthan a smashed pleasure?\"\n\nGangnet did not reply, but took Maskull\'s arm.\n\nAfter they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs\nand slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep\nmountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles,\nduring which space the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet,\nat a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this\nimmense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous\nforest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they\nhad hitherto passed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in\nsleep, but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the\nfact that they were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been\ncompletely intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with\nlight, and this light, being tinged with the colour of the branches,\nwas a soft and lovely rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the\nillumination, that Maskull\'s spirits immediately started to rise,\nalthough he did not wish it.\n\nHe checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive.\n\n\"What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!\" rasped\nKrag mockingly. \"Why isn\'t Sullenbode here?\"\n\nMaskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag\nrecovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit\ndiscomposed.\n\n\"Still what I said--was it true or untrue?\"\n\nMaskull gazed at him sternly. \"You seem to regard yourself as a\nnecessary evil. I\'m under no obligation to go on with you any farther. I\nthink we had better part.\"\n\nKrag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness.\n\n\"What do you say--do we part when Maskull pleases, or when I please?\"\n\n\"Keep your temper, Maskull,\" said Gangnet, showing Krag his back. \"I\nknow the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened onto you\nthere\'s only one way of making him lose his hold, by ignoring him.\nDespise him--say nothing to him, don\'t answer his questions. If you\nrefuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not here.\"\n\n\"I\'m beginning to be tired of it all,\" said Maskull. \"It seems as if I\nshall add one more to my murders, before I have finished.\"\n\n\"I smell murder in the air,\" exclaimed Krag, pretending to sniff. \"But\nwhose?\"\n\n\"Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on fire.\"\n\n\"I\'ll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this accursed\nforest?\"\n\n\"It\'s some way yet, but when we\'re once out we can take to the water,\nand you will be able to rest, and think.\"\n\n\"And brood comfortably over your sufferings,\" added Krag.\n\nNone of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the\nopen day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to\nrun, rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation,\neven if they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an\nhour they were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of\nthem as far as they could see.\n\nThree parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a\nsuccession of large, low-shored lakes, divided by narrow strips of\ntree-covered land. The lake immediately before them had its small end to\nthe forest. It was there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the\nsides and end was shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but\nin the middle, beginning a few yards from the shore, there was a\nperceptible current away from them. In view of this current, it was\ndifficult to decide whether it was a lake or a river. Some little\nfloating islands were in the shallows.\n\n\"Is it here that we take to the water?\" inquired Maskull.\n\n\"Yes, here,\" answered Gangnet.\n\n\"But how?\"\n\n\"One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the\nstream.\"\n\nMaskull frowned. \"Where will it carry us to?\"\n\n\"Come, get on, get on!\" said Krag, laughing uncouthly. \"The morning\'s\nwearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are going to the\nOcean.\"\n\n\"If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?\"\n\n\"Gangnet will murder you.\"\n\n\"You lie!\" said Gangnet. \"I wish Maskull nothing but good.\"\n\n\"At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it\nmatter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well,\nGangnet, I see you\'re as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the work.\"\n\nHe jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water,\nsplashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was\nup to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet\nfrom end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there\nwas no form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it,\nand started shoving it toward the current, apparently without having\nunduly to exert himself. When it was within the influence of the stream\nthe others waded out to him, and all three climbed on.\n\nThe voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles\nan hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there\nwas no shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and\nperiodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches\nnext to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an\nanimal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of\nthe stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to\nbe floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary.\n\nKrag suddenly bent over and snatched off Gangnet\'s hat, crushing it\ntogether in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream.\n\n\"Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?\" he asked with a harsh\nguffaw--\"Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it somewhere.\"\n\nGangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His\ndark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and noble,\nand there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was\nstrangely appealing to the feelings.\n\n\"Let Maskull judge,\" he said with proud composure, \"whether I have\nanything to be ashamed of.\"\n\n\"There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head,\" muttered\nMaskull, staring hard at him.\n\n\"A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens\nwhen poets try to carry through practical enterprises?\"\n\n\"What enterprises?\" asked Maskull, in astonishment.\n\n\"What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull.\"\n\n\"There are two forms of practical activity,\" replied Gangnet calmly.\n\"One may either build up, or destroy.\"\n\n\"No, there\'s a third species. One may steal--and not even know one is\nstealing. One may take the purse and leave the money.\"\n\nMaskull raised his eyebrows. \"Where have you two met before?\"\n\n\"I\'m paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull but once upon a time Gangnet\npaid me a visit.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"In my home--whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief.\"\n\n\"You are speaking in riddles, and I don\'t understand you. I don\'t\nknow either of you, but it\'s clear that if Gangnet is a poet, you\'re a\nbuffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet.\"\n\nKrag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length,\nwith his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep,\nand snoring disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow,\nrepulsive face with strong disfavour.\n\nTwo hours passed. The land on either side was more than a mile distant.\nIn front of them there was no land at all. Behind them, the Lichstorm\nMountains were blotted out from view by a haze that had gathered\ntogether. The sky ahead, just above the horizon, began to be of\na strange colour. It was an intense jale-blue. The whole northern\natmosphere was stained with ulfire.\n\nMaskull\'s mind grew disturbed. \"Alppain is rising, Gangnet.\"\n\nGangnet smiled wistfully. \"It begins to trouble you?\"\n\n\"It is so solemn--tragical, almost--yet it recalls me to Earth. Life was\nno longer important--but this is important.\"\n\n\"Daylight is night to this other daylight. Within half an hour you will\nbe like a man who has stepped from a dark forest into the open day. Then\nyou will ask yourself how you could have been blind.\"\n\nThe two men went on watching the blue sunrise. The entire sky in\nthe north, halfway up to the zenith, was streaked with extraordinary\ncolours, among which jale and dolm predominated. Just as the principal\ncharacter of an ordinary dawn is mystery, the outstanding character of\nthis dawn was wildness. It did not baffle the understanding, but the\nheart. Maskull felt no inarticulate craving to seize and perpetuate the\nsunrise, and make it his own. Instead of that, it agitated and tormented\nhim, like the opening bars of a supernatural symphony.\n\nWhen he looked back to the south, Branchspell\'s day had lost its\nglare, and he could gaze at the immense white sun without flinching. He\ninstinctively turned to the north again, as one turns from darkness to\nlight.\n\n\"If those were Crystalman\'s thoughts that you showed me before, Gangnet,\nthese must be his feelings. I mean it literally. What I am feeling now,\nhe must have felt before me.\"\n\n\"He is all feeling, Maskull--don\'t you understand that?\"\n\nMaskull was feeding greedily on the spectacle before him; he did not\nreply. His face was set like a rock, but his eyes were dim with the\nbeginning of tears. The sky blazed deeper and deeper; it was obvious\nthat Alppain was about to lift itself above the sea. The island had by\nthis time floated past the mouth of the estuary. On three sides they\nwere surrounded by water. The haze crept up behind them and shut out all\nsight of land. Krag was still sleeping--an ugly, wrinkled monstrosity.\n\nMaskull looked over the side at the flowing water. It had lost its dark\ngreen colour, and was now of a perfect crystal transparency.\n\n\"Are we already on the Ocean, Gangnet?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then nothing remains except my death.\"\n\n\"Don\'t think of death, but life.\"\n\n\"It\'s growing brighter--at the same time, more sombre, Krag seems to be\nfading away....\"\n\n\"There is Alppain!\" said Gangnet, touching his arm.\n\nThe deep, glowing disk of the blue sun peeped above the sea. Maskull\nwas struck to silence. He was hardly so much looking, as feeling. His\nemotions were unutterable. His soul seemed too strong for his body. The\ngreat blue orb rose rapidly out of the water, like an awful eye watching\nhim.... it shot above the sea with a bound, and Alppain\'s day commenced.\n\n\"What do you feel?\" Gangnet still held his arm.\n\n\"I have set myself against the Infinite,\" muttered Maskull.\n\nSuddenly his chaos of passions sprang together, and a wonderful idea\nswept through his whole being, accompanied by the intensest joy.\n\n\"Why, Gangnet--I am nothing.\"\n\n\"No, you are nothing.\"\n\nThe mist closed in all around them. Nothing was visible except the\ntwo suns, and a few feet of sea. The shadows of the three men cast by\nAlppain were not black, but were composed of white daylight.\n\n\"Then nothing can hurt me,\" said Maskull with a peculiar smile.\n\nGangnet smiled too. \"How could it?\"\n\n\"I have lost my will; I feel as if some foul tumour had been scraped\naway, leaving me clean and free.\"\n\n\"Do you now understand life, Maskull?\"\n\nGangnet\'s face was transfigured with an extraordinary spiritual beauty;\nhe looked as if he had descended from heaven.\n\n\"I understand nothing, except that I have no self any more. But this is\nlife.\"\n\n\"Is Gangnet expatiating on his famous blue sun?\" said a jeering voice\nabove them. Looking up, they saw that Krag had got to his feet.\n\nThey both rose. At the same moment the gathering mist began to obscure\nAlppain\'s disk, changing it from blue to a vivid jale.\n\n\"What do you want with us, Krag?\" asked Maskull with simple composure.\n\nKrag looked at him strangely for a few seconds. The water lapped around\nthem.\n\n\"Don\'t you comprehend, Maskull, that your death has arrived?\"\n\nMaskull made no response. Krag rested an arm lightly on his shoulder,\nand suddenly he felt sick and faint. He sank to the ground, near the\nedge of the island raft. His heart was thumping heavily and queerly;\nits beating reminded him of the drum taps. He gazed languidly at the\nrippling water, and it seemed to him as if he could see right through\nit... away, away down... to a strange fire....\n\nThe water disappeared. The two suns were extinguished. The island was\ntransformed into a cloud, and Maskull--alone on it--was floating through\nthe atmosphere.... Down below, it was all fire--the fire of Muspel. The\nlight mounted higher and higher, until it filled the whole world....\n\nHe floated toward an immense perpendicular cliff of black rock, without\ntop or bottom. Halfway up it Krag, suspended in midair, was dealing\nterrific blows at a blood-red spot with a huge hammer. The rhythmical,\nclanging sounds were hideous.\n\nPresently Maskull made out that these sounds were the familiar drum\nbeats. \"What are you doing, Krag?\" he asked.\n\nKrag suspended his work, and turned around.\n\n\"Beating on Your heart, Maskull,\" was his grinning response.\n\nThe cliff and Krag vanished. Maskull saw Gangnet struggling in the\nair--but it was not Gangnet--it was Crystalman. He seemed to be trying\nto escape from the Muspel-fire, which kept surrounding and licking him,\nwhichever way he turned. He was screaming.... The fire caught him. He\nshrieked horribly. Maskull caught one glimpse of a vulgar, slobbering\nface--and then that too disappeared.\n\nHe opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by\nAlppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there.\n\n\"What is this Ocean called?\" asked Maskull, bringing out the words with\ndifficulty.\n\n\"Surtur\'s Ocean.\"\n\nMaskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his\narm. \"Where\'s Nightspore?\" he asked suddenly.\n\nKrag bent over him with a grave expression. \"You are Nightspore.\"\n\nThe dying man closed his eyes, and smiled.\n\nOpening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured,\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nKrag maintained a gloomy silence.\n\nShortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull\'s heart, and\nhe died immediately.\n\nKrag turned his head around. \"The night is really past at last,\nNightspore.... The day is here.\"\n\nNightspore gazed long and earnestly at Maskull\'s body. \"Why was all this\nnecessary?\"\n\n\"Ask Crystalman,\" replied Krag sternly. \"His world is no joke. He has a\nstrong clutch--but I have a stronger... Maskull was his, but Nightspore\nis mine.\"\n\n\n\nChapter 21. MUSPEL\n\nThe fog thickened so that the two suns wholly disappeared, and all grew\nas black as night. Nightspore could no longer see his companion. The\nwater lapped gently against the side of the island raft.\n\n\"You say the night is past,\" said Nightspore. \"But the night is still\nhere. Am I dead, or alive?\"\n\n\"You are still in Crystalman\'s world, but you belong to it no more. We\nare approaching Muspel.\"\n\nNightspore felt a strong, silent throbbing of the air--a rhythmical\npulsation, in four-four time. \"There is the drumming,\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?\"\n\n\"I half understand it, but I\'m all confused.\"\n\n\"It\'s evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty deeply,\"\nsaid Krag. \"The sound comes from Muspel, but the rhythm is caused by its\ntravelling through Crystalman\'s atmosphere. His nature is rhythm as he\nloves to call it--or dull, deadly repetition, as I name it.\"\n\n\"I remember,\" said Nightspore, biting his nails in the dark.\n\nThe throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A\nsmall patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of\nthem, began faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea\naround it.\n\n\"Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few like\nme?\" asked Nightspore.\n\n\"If all escaped, I shouldn\'t sweat, my friend... There\'s hard work, and\nanguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us yonder.\"\n\nNightspore\'s heart sank. \"Have I not yet finished, then?\"\n\n\"If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?\"\n\nThe drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a\ntiny oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag\'s\ngrim and rocklike features were revealed.\n\n\"I can\'t face rebirth,\" said Nightspore. \"The horror of death is nothing\nto it.\"\n\n\"You will choose.\"\n\n\"I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with--my\nown soul.\"\n\n\"You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,\" said\nKrag.\n\nNightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something.\nThe water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that\nthey scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull\'s\ncorpse had disappeared.\n\nThe drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of\nlight grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness\nabove, below, and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the\nsemblance of a huge, black wall, without bounds.\n\n\"Is that really a wall we are coming to?\"\n\n\"You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is the\ngate you have to enter.\"\n\nNightspore\'s heart beat wildly.\n\n\"Shall I remember?\" he muttered.\n\n\"Yes, you\'ll remember.\"\n\n\"Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.\"\n\n\"There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for you.\"\n\n\"You are returning to the struggle?\" demanded Nightspore, gnawing his\nfingertips.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I dare not.\"\n\nThe thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like\nactual blows. The light glared so vividly that he was no longer able to\nlook at it. It had the startling irregularity of continuous lightning,\nbut it possessed this further peculiarity--that it seemed somehow to\ngive out not actual light, but emotion, seen as light. They continued to\napproach the wall of darkness, straight toward the door. The glasslike\nwater flowed right against it, its surface reaching up almost to the\nthreshold.\n\nThey could not speak any more; the noise was too deafening.\n\nIn a few minutes they were before the gateway. Nightspore turned his\nback and hid his eyes in his two hands, but even then he was blinded\nby the light. So passionate were his feelings that his body seemed to\nenlarge itself. At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently.\n\nThe entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and\npulled Nightspore after him.\n\nOnce through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical\nsound--blows totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was\ndark and quiet as an opened tomb. But the air was filled with grim,\nburning passion, which was to light and sound what light itself is to\nopaque colour.\n\nNightspore pressed his hand to his heart. \"I don\'t know if I can endure\nit,\" he said, looking toward Krag. He felt his person far more vividly\nand distinctly than if he had been able to see him.\n\n\"Go in, and lose no time, Nightspore.... Time here is more precious than\non earth. We can\'t squander the minutes. There are terrible and tragic\naffairs to attend to, which won\'t wait for us... Go in at once. Stop for\nnothing.\"\n\n\"Where shall I go to?\" muttered Nightspore. \"I have forgotten\neverything.\"\n\n\"Enter, enter! There is only one way. You can\'t mistake it.\"\n\n\"Why do you bid me go in, if I am to come out again?\"\n\n\"To have your wounds healed.\"\n\nAlmost before the words had left his mouth, Krag sprang back on to the\nisland raft. Nightspore involuntarily started after him, but at\nonce recovered himself and remained standing where he was. Krag was\ncompletely invisible; everything outside was black night.\n\nThe moment he had gone, a feeling shot up in Nightspore\'s heart like a\nthousand trumpets.\n\nStraight in front of him, almost at his feet, was the lower end of a\nsteep, narrow, circular flight of stone steps. There was no other way\nforward.\n\nHe put his foot on the bottom stair, at the same time peering aloft.\nHe saw nothing, yet as he proceeded upward every inch of the way was\nperceptible to his inner feelings. The staircase was cold, dismal, and\ndeserted, but it seemed to him, in his exaltation of soul, like a ladder\nto heaven.\n\nAfter he had mounted a dozen steps or so, he paused to take breath. Each\nstep was increasingly difficult to ascend; he felt as though he were\ncarrying a heavy man on his shoulders. It struck a familiar chord in his\nmind. He went on and, ten stairs higher up, came to a window set in a\nhigh embrasure.\n\nOn to this he clambered, and looked through. The window was of a sort of\nglass, but he could see nothing. Coming to him, however, from the world\noutside, a disturbance of the atmosphere struck his senses, causing his\nblood to run cold. At one moment it resembled a low, mocking, vulgar\nlaugh, travelling from the ends of the earth; at the next it was like\na rhythmical vibration of the air--the silent, continuous throbbing of\nsome mighty engine. The two sensations were identical, yet different.\nThey seemed to be related in the same manner as soul and body. After\nfeeling them for a long time, Nightspore got down from the embrasure,\nand continued his ascent, having meanwhile grown very serious.\n\nThe climbing became still more laborious, and he was forced to stop at\nevery third or fourth step, to rest his muscles and regain breath. When\nhe had mounted another twenty stairs in this way, he came to a second\nwindow. Again he saw nothing. The laughing disturbance of the air,\ntoo, had ceased; but the atmospheric throb was now twice as distinct\nas before, and its rhythm had become double. There were two separate\npulses; one was in the time of a march, the other in the time of a\nwaltz. The first was bitter and petrifying to feel, but the second was\ngay, enervating, and horrible.\n\nNightspore spent little time at that window, for he felt that he was\non the eve of a great discovery, and that something far more important\nawaited him higher up. He proceeded aloft. The ascent grew more and\nmore exhausting, so much so that he had frequently to sit down, utterly\ncrushed by his own dead weight. Still, he got to the third window.\n\nHe climbed into the embrasure. His feelings translated themselves into\nvision, and he saw a sight that caused him to turn pale. A gigantic,\nself-luminous sphere was hanging in the sky, occupying nearly the whole\nof it. This sphere was composed entirely of two kinds of active beings.\nThere were a myriad of tiny green corpuscles, varying in size from the\nvery small to the almost indiscernible. They were not green, but he\nsomehow saw them so. They were all striving in one direction--toward\nhimself, toward Muspel, but were too feeble and miniature to make any\nheadway. Their action produced the marching rhythm he had previously\nfelt, but this rhythm was not intrinsic in the corpuscles themselves,\nbut was a consequence of the obstruction they met with. And, surrounding\nthese atoms of life and light, were far larger whirls of white light\nthat gyrated hither and thither, carrying the green corpuscles with\nthem wherever they desired. Their whirling motion was accompanied by the\nwaltzing rhythm. It seemed to Nightspore that the green atoms were\nnot only being danced about against their will but were suffering\nexcruciating shame and degradation in consequence. The larger ones were\nsteadier than the extremely small, a few were even almost stationary,\nand one was advancing in the direction it wished to go.\n\nHe turned his back to the window, buried his face in his hands, and\nsearched in the dim recesses of his memory for an explanation of what he\nhad just seen. Nothing came straight, but horror and wrath began to take\npossession of him.\n\nOn his way upward to the next window, invisible fingers seemed to him\nto be squeezing his heart and twisting it about here and there; but he\nnever dreamed of turning back. His mood was so grim that he did not once\npermit himself to pause. Such was his physical distress by the time that\nhe had clambered into the recess, that for several minutes he could see\nnothing at all--the world seemed to be spinning round him rapidly.\n\nWhen at last he looked, he saw the same sphere as before, but now all\nwas changed on it. It was a world of rocks, minerals, water, plants,\nanimals, and men. He saw the whole world at one view, yet everything was\nso magnified that he could distinguish the smallest details of life. In\nthe interior of every individual, of every aggregate of individuals,\nof every chemical atom, he clearly perceived the presence of the green\ncorpuscles. But, according to the degree of dignity of the life form,\nthey were fragmentary or comparatively large. In the crystal, for\nexample, the green, imprisoned life was so minute as to be scarcely\nvisible; in some men it was hardly bigger; but in other men and women it\nwas twenty or a hundred times greater. But, great or small, it played\nan important part in every individual. It appeared as if the whirls of\nwhite light, which were the individuals, and plainly showed themselves\nbeneath the enveloping bodies, were delighted with existence and wished\nonly to enjoy it, but the green corpuscles were in a condition of\neternal discontent, yet, blind and not knowing which way to turn for\nliberation, kept changing form, as though breaking a new path, by way of\nexperiment. Whenever the old grotesque became metamorphosed into the\nnew grotesque, it was in every case the direct work of the green atoms,\ntrying to escape toward Muspel, but encountering immediate opposition.\nThese subdivided sparks of living, fiery spirit were hopelessly\nimprisoned in a ghastly mush of soft pleasure. They were being\neffeminated and corrupted--that is to say, absorbed in the foul, sickly\nenveloping forms.\n\nNightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that\nspectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and\nunderstood why Krag was waiting for him below.\n\nHe mounted slowly to the fifth window. The pressure of air against him\nwas as strong as a full gale, divested of violence and irregularity,\nso that he was not for an instant suffered to relax his efforts.\nNevertheless, not a breath stirred.\n\nLooking through the window, he was startled by a new sight. The sphere\nwas still there, but between it and the Muspel-world in which he was\nstanding he perceived a dim, vast shadow, without any distinguishable\nshape, but somehow throwing out a scent of disgusting sweetness.\nNightspore knew that it was Crystalman. A flood of fierce light--but it\nwas not light, but passion--was streaming all the time from Muspel to\nthe Shadow, and through it. When, however, it emerged on the other side,\nwhich was the sphere, the light was altered in character. It became\nsplit, as by a prism, into the two forms of life which he had previously\nseen--the green corpuscles and the whirls. What had been fiery spirit\nbut a moment ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling\nindividuals, each whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a\nfragmentary spark of living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back\nrays of Starkness, and it flashed across him with the certainty of truth\nthat the green sparks were the back rays, and the whirls the forward\nrays, of Muspel. The former were trying desperately to return to their\nplace of origin, but were overpowered by the brute force of the latter,\nwhich wished only to remain where they were. The individual whirls were\njostling and fighting with, and even devouring, each other. This created\npain, but, whatever pain they felt, it was always pleasure that they\nsought. Sometimes the green sparks were strong enough for a moment to\nmove a little way in the direction of Muspel; the whirls would then\naccept the movement, not only without demur, but with pride and\npleasure, as if it were their own handiwork--but they never saw beyond\nthe Shadow, they thought that they were travelling toward it. The\ninstant the direct movement wearied them, as contrary to their whirling\nnature, they fell again to killing, dancing, and loving.\n\nNightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to\nbe the last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for\nhe guessed that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become\nmanifest. Every step upward was like a bloody life-and-death struggle.\nThe stairs nailed him to the ground; the air pressure caused blood to\ngush from his nose and ears; his head clanged like an iron bell. When\nhe had fought his way up a dozen steps, he found himself suddenly at the\ntop; the staircase terminated in a small, bare chamber of cold stone,\npossessing a single window. On the other side of the apartment another\nshort flight of stairs mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of\nthe building. Before ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the\nwindow and stared out.\n\nThe shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled\nthe whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow.\nIt had neither shape, nor colour, yet it in some way suggested the\ndelicate tints of early morning. It was so nebulous that the sphere\ncould be clearly distinguished through it; in extension, however, it\nwas thick. The sweet smell emanating from it was strong, loathsome,\nand terrible; it seemed to spring from a sort of loose, mocking slime\ninexpressibly vulgar and ignorant.\n\nThe spirit stream from Muspel flashed with complexity and variety. It\nwas not below individuality, but above it. It was not the One, or the\nMany, but something else far beyond either. It approached Crystalman,\nand entered his body--if that bright mist could be called a body. It\npassed right through him, and the passage caused him the most exquisite\npleasure. The Muspel-stream was Crystalman\'s food. The stream emerged\nfrom the other side on to the sphere, in a double condition. Part of\nit reappeared intrinsically unaltered, but shivered into a million\nfragments. These were the green corpuscles. In passing through\nCrystalman they had escaped absorption by reason of their extreme\nminuteness. The other part of the stream had not escaped. Its fire had\nbeen abstracted, its cement was withdrawn, and, after being fouled\nand softened by the horrible sweetness of the host, it broke into\nindividuals, which were the whirls of living will.\n\nNightspore shuddered. He comprehended at last how the whole world of\nwill was doomed to eternal anguish in order that one Being might feel\njoy.\n\nPresently he set foot on the final flight leading to the roof; for he\nremembered vaguely that now only that remained.\n\nHalfway up, he fainted--but when he recovered consciousness he persisted\nas though nothing had happened to him. As soon as his head was above the\ntrap, breathing the free air, he had the same physical sensation as a\nman stepping out of water. He pulled his body up, and stood expectantly\non the stone-floored roof, looking round for his first glimpse of\nMuspel.\n\nThere was nothing.\n\nHe was standing upon the top of a tower, measuring not above fifteen\nfeet each way. Darkness was all around him. He sat down on the stone\nparapet, with a sinking heart; a heavy foreboding possessed him.\n\nSuddenly, without seeing or hearing anything, he had the distinct\nimpression that the darkness around him, on all four sides, was\ngrinning.... As soon as that happened, he understood that he was wholly\nsurrounded by Crystalman\'s world, and that Muspel consisted of himself\nand the stone tower on which he was sitting..\n\nFire flashed in his heart.... Millions upon millions of grotesque,\nvulgar, ridiculous, sweetened individuals--once Spirit--were calling out\nfrom their degradation and agony for salvation from Muspel.... To\nanswer that cry there was only himself... and Krag waiting below... and\nSurtur--But where was Surtur?\n\nThe truth forced itself on him in all its cold, brutal reality. Muspel\nwas no all-powerful Universe, tolerating from pure indifference the\nexistence side by side with it of another false world, which had no\nright to be. Muspel was fighting for its life--against all that is most\nshameful and frightful--against sin masquerading as eternal beauty,\nagainst baseness masquerading as Nature, against the Devil masquerading\nas God....\n\nNow he understood everything. The moral combat was no mock one, no\nValhalla, where warriors are cut to pieces by day and feast by night;\nbut a grim death struggle in which what is worse than death--namely,\nspiritual death--inevitably awaited the vanquished of Muspel.... By what\nmeans could he hold back from this horrible war!\n\nDuring those moments of anguish, all thoughts of Self--the corruption of\nhis life on Earth--were scorched out of Nightspore\'s soul, perhaps not\nfor the first time.\n\nAfter sitting a long time, he prepared to descend. Without warning, a\nstrange, wailing cry swept over the face of the world. Starting in awful\nmystery, it ended with such a note of low and sordid mockery that he\ncould not doubt for a moment whence it originated. It was the voice of\nCrystalman.\n\nKrag was waiting for him on the island raft. He threw a stern glance at\nNightspore.\n\n\"Have you seen everything?\"\n\n\"The struggle is hopeless,\" muttered Nightspore.\n\n\"Did I not say I am the stronger?\"\n\n\"You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier.\"\n\n\"I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman\'s Empire is but a shadow\non the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the bloodiest\nblows.... What do you mean to do?\"\n\nNightspore looked at him strangely. \"Are you not Surtur, Krag?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. \"But what is\nyour name on Earth?\"\n\n\"It is pain.\"\n\n\"That, too, I must have known.\"\n\nHe was silent for a few minutes; then he stepped quietly onto the raft.\nKrag pushed off, and they proceeded into the darkness.'"