Chapter 9. OCEAXE
Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already abovethe horizon when he awoke. He was instantly aware that his organs hadchanged during the night. His fleshy breve was altered into an eyelikesorb; his magn had swelled and developed into a third arm, springingfrom the breast. The arm gave him at once a sense of greater physicalsecurity, but with the sorb he was obliged to experiment, before hecould grasp its function.
As he lay there in the white sunlight, opening and shutting each of histhree eyes in turn, he found that the two lower ones served hisunderstanding, the upper one his will. That is to say, with the lowereyes he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest; withthe sorb he saw nothing as self-existent—everything appeared as anobject of importance or non-importance to his own needs.
Rather puzzled as to how this would turn out, he got up and looked abouthim. He had slept out of sight of Oceaxe. He was anxious to learn if shewere still on the spot, but before going to ascertain he made up hismind to bathe in the river.
It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun already began to glare, butits heat was tempered by a strong wind, which whistled through thetrees. A host of fantastic clouds filled the sky. They looked likeanimals, and were always changing shape. The ground, as well as theleaves and branches of the forest trees, still held traces of heavy dewor rain during the night. A poignantly sweet smell of nature entered hisnostrils. His pain was quiescent, and his spirits were high.
Before he bathed, he viewed the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. In themorning sunlight they stood out pictorially. He guessed that they werefrom five to six thousand feet high. The lofty, irregular, castellatedline seemed like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs fronting him werecomposed of gaudy rocks—vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and black.As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy drum,and he thrilled all over—indescribable hopes, aspirations, and emotionscame over him. It was more than the conquest of a new world which hefelt—it was something different....
He bathed and drank, and as he was reclothing himself, Oceaxe strolledindolently up.
He could now perceive the colour of her skin—it was a vivid, yetdelicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlinglyunearthly. With these new colors she looked like a genuinerepresentative of a strange planet. Her frame also had something curiousabout it. The curves were womanly, the bones were characteristicallyfemale—yet all seemed somehow to express a daring, masculine underlyingwill. The commanding eye on her forehead set the same puzzle in plainerlanguage. Its bold, domineering egotism was shot with undergleams of sexand softness.
She came to the river’s edge and reviewed him from top to toe. “Now youare built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, lingering voice.
“You see, the experiment was successful,” he answered, smiling gaily.
Oceaxe continued looking him over. “Did some woman give you thatridiculous robe?”
“A woman did give it to me”—dropping his smile—“but I saw nothingridiculous in the gift at the time, and I don’t now.”
“I think I’d look better in it.”
As she drawled the words, she began stripping off the skin, which suitedher form so well, and motioned to him to exchange garments. He obeyed,rather shamefacedly, for he realised that the proposed exchange was infact more appropriate to his sex. He found the skin a freer dress.Oceaxe in her drapery appeared more dangerously feminine to him.
“I don’t want you to receive gifts at all from other women,” sheremarked slowly.
“Why not? What can I be to you?”
“I have been thinking about you during the night.” Her voice wasretarded, scornful, viola-like. She sat down on the trunk of a fallentree, and looked away.
“In what way?”
She returned no answer to his question, but began to pull off pieces ofthe bark.
“Last night you were so contemptuous.”
“Last night is not today. Do you always walk through the world with yourhead over your shoulder?”
It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent.
“Still, if you have male instincts, as I suppose you have, you can’t goon resisting me forever.”
“But this is preposterous,” said Maskull, opening his eyes wide.“Granted that you are a beautiful woman—we can’t be quite so primeval.”
Oceaxe sighed, and rose to her feet. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait.”
“From that I gather that you intend to make the journey in my society. Ihave no objection—in fact I shall be glad—but only on condition that youdrop this language.”
“Yet you do think me beautiful?”
“Why shouldn’t I think so, if it is the fact? I fail to see what thathas to do with my feelings. Bring it to an end, Oceaxe. You will findplenty of men to admire—and love you.”
At that she blazed up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do youimagine I am so hard put to it that I have to hunt for lovers? Is notCrimtyphon waiting for me at this very moment?”
“Very well. I am sorry to have hurt your feelings. Now carry thetemptation no farther—for it is a temptation, where a lovely woman isconcerned. I am not my own master.”
“I’m not proposing anything so very hateful, am I? Why do you humiliateme so?”
Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not my ownmaster.”
“Then who is your master?”
“Yesterday I saw Surtur, and from today I am serving him.”
“Did you speak with him?” she asked curiously.
“I did.”
“Tell me what he said.”
“No, I can’t—I won’t. But whatever he said, his beauty was moretormenting than yours, Oceaxe, and that’s why I can look at you in coldblood.”
“Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?”
Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I should havethought it effeminate.”
“It doesn’t matter. You won’t always be so boyish. But don’t try mypatience too far.”
“Let us talk about something else—and, above all, let us get on ourroad.”
She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that hegrew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. “Oh,Maskull, Maskull—what a fool you are!”
“In what way am I a fool?” he demanded, scowling—not at her words, butat his own weakness.
“Isn’t the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of lovers? Andyet you think yourself above all that. You try to fly away from nature,but where will you find a hole to hide yourself in?”
“Besides beauty, I now credit you with a second quality: persistence.”
“Read me well, and then it is natural law that you’ll think twice andthree times before throwing me away.... And now, before we go, we hadbetter eat.”
“Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully.
“Don’t you eat? Is food in the same category as love?”
“What food is it?”
“Fish from the river.”
Maskull recollected his promise to Joiwind. At the same time, he felthungry.
“Is there nothing milder?”
She pulled her mouth scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’tyou? All the people there are the same. They think life is to be lookedat, and not lived. Now that you are visiting Ifdawn, you will have tochange your notions.”
“Go catch your fish,” he returned, pulling down his brows.
The broad, clear waters flowed past them with swelling undulations, fromthe direction of the mountains. Oceaxe knelt down on the bank, andpeered into the depths. Presently her look became tense andconcentrated; she dipped her hand in and pulled out some sort of littlemonster. It was more like a reptile than a fish, with its scaly platesand teeth. She threw it on the ground, and it started crawling about.Suddenly she darted all her will into her sorb. The creature leaped intothe air, and fell down dead.
She picked up
a sharp-edged slate, and with it removed the scales andentrails. During this operation, her hands and garment became stainedwith the light scarlet blood.
“Find the drude, Maskull,” she said, with a lazy smile. “You had it lastnight.”
He searched for it. It was hard to locate, for its rays had grown dulland feeble in the sunlight, but at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it inthe interior of the monster, and left the body lying on the ground.
“While it’s cooking, I’ll wash some of this blood away, which frightensyou so much. Have you never seen blood before?”
Maskull gazed at her in perplexity. The old paradox came back—thecontrasting sexual characteristics in her person. Her bold, masterful,masculine egotism of manner seemed quite incongruous with thefascinating and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling ideaflashed into his mind.
“In your country I’m told there is an act of will called ‘absorbing.’What is that?”
She held her red, dripping hands away from her draperies, and uttered adelicious, clashing laugh. “You think I am half a man?”
“Answer my question.”
“I’m a woman through and through, Maskull—to the marrowbone. But that’snot to say I have never absorbed males.”
“And that means...”
“New strings for my harp, Maskull. A wider range of passions, a stormierheart...”
“For you, yes—But for them?...”
“I don’t know. The victims don’t describe their experiences. Probablyunhappiness of some sort—if they still know anything.”
“This is a fearful business!” he exclaimed, regarding her gloomily. “Onewould think Ifdawn a land of devils.”
Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she took a step toward the river.“Better men than you—better in every sense of the word—are walking aboutwith foreign wills inside them. You may be as moral as you like,Maskull, but the fact remains, animals were made to be eaten, and simplenatures were made to be absorbed.”
“And human rights count for nothing!”
She had bent over the river’s edge, to wash her arms and hands, butglanced up over her shoulder to answer his remark. “They do count. Butwe only regard a man as human for just as long as he’s able to hold hisown with others.”
The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull castheavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion. Whetherit was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his longabstention, he did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and evencannibalistic. He ate little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled.
“Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time,” saidOceaxe. “On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull with me,to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.”
They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with asluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had thecontrary effect—it caused them to exert themselves, and they movedfaster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. Theexercise gradually improved the circulation of Maskull’s blood, and hebegan to look at things in a far more cheerful way. The hot sunshine,the diminished wind, the marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet, crystalforests—all was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer andnearer to the gaily painted heights of Ifdawn.
There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He wasattracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at thesame time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost,painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelingsproduced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull’simpressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices.
He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have most extraordinaryshapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular—no slopes orcurves.”
She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. “That’s typicalof Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft andgradual.”
“I hear you, but I don’t understand you.”
“All over the Marest you’ll find patches of ground plunging down orrushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice beforeacting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.”
Maskull was impressed. “A fresh, wild, primitive land.”
“How is it where you come from?” asked Oceaxe.
“Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years tomove a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks.Originality is a lost habit.”
“Are there women there?”
“As with you, and not very differently formed.”
“Do they love?”
He laughed. “So much so that it has changed the dress, speech, andthoughts of the whole sex.”
“Probably they are more beautiful than I?”
“No, I think not,” said Maskull.
There was another rather long silence, as they travelled unsteadilyonward.
“What is your business in Ifdawn?” demanded Oceaxe suddenly.
He hesitated over his answer. “Can you grasp that it’s possible to havean aim right in front of one, so big that one can’t see it as a whole?”
She stole a long, inquisitive look at him, “What sort of aim?”
“A moral aim.”
“Are you proposing to set the world right?”
“I propose nothing—I am waiting.”
“Don’t wait too long, for time doesn’t wait—especially in Ifdawn.”
“Something will happen,” said Maskull.
Oceaxe threw a subtle smile. “So you have no special destination in theMarest?”
“No, and if you’ll permit me, I will come home with you.”
“Singular man!” she said, with a short, thrilling laugh. “That’s what Ihave been offering all the time. Of course you will come home with me.As for Crimtyphon...”
“You mentioned that name before. Who is he?”
“Oh! My lover, or, as you would say, my husband.”
“This doesn’t improve matters,” said Maskull.
“It leaves them exactly where they were. We merely have to remove him.”
“We are certainly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, quitestartled. “Do you by any chance imagine that I am making a compact withyou?”
“You will do nothing against your will. But you have promised to comehome with me.”
“Tell me, how do you remove husbands in Ifdawn?”
“Either you or I must kill him.”
He eyed her for a full minute. “Now we are passing from folly toinsanity.”
“Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the too-sad truth. And when youhave seen Crimtyphon, you will realise it.”
“I’m aware I am on a strange planet,” said Maskull slowly, “where allsorts of unheard of things may happen, and where the very laws ofmorality may be different. Still as far as I am concerned, murder ismurder, and I’ll have no more to do with a woman who wants to make useof me, to get rid of her husband.”
“You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily.
“Or mad.”
“Then you had better leave me, Maskull—only—”
“Only what?”
“You wish to be consistent, don’t you? Leave all other mad and wickedpeople as well. Then you’ll find it easier to reform the rest.”
Maskull frowned, but said nothing.
“Well?” demanded Oceaxe, with a half smile.
“I’ll come with you, and I’ll see Crimtyphon—if only to warn him.”
Oceaxe broke into a cascade of rich, feminine laughter, but whether atthe image conjured up by Maskull’s last words, or from some other cause,he did not know. The conversation dropped.
At a distance of a couple of miles from the now towering cliffs, theriver made a sharp, right-angled turn to the west, and was no longer ofuse to them on their journey. Maskull stared up doubtfully.
“It’s a stiff climb for a hot morning.”
<
br /> “Let’s rest here a little,” said she, indicating a smooth flat island ofblack rock, standing up just out of the water in the middle of theriver.
They accordingly went to it, and Maskull sat down. Oceaxe, however,standing graceful and erect, turned her face toward the cliffs opposite,and uttered a piercing and peculiar call.
“What is that for?” She did not answer. After waiting a minute, sherepeated the call. Maskull now saw a large bird detach itself from thetop of one of the precipices, and sail slowly down toward them. It wasfollowed by two others. The flight of these birds was exceedingly slowand clumsy.
“What are they?” he asked.
She still returned no answer, but smiled rather peculiarly and sat downbeside him. Before many minutes he was able to distinguish the shapesand colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatureswith long, snakelike bodies, and ten reptilian legs apiece, terminatingin fins which acted as wings. The bodies were of bright blue, the legsand fins were yellow. They were flying, without haste, but in a somewhatominous fashion, straight toward them. He could make out a long, thinspike projecting from each of the heads.
“They are shrowks,” explained Oceaxe at last. “If you want to know theirintention, I’ll tell you. To make a meal of us. First of all theirspikes will pierce us, and then their mouths, which are really suckers,will drain us dry of blood—pretty thoroughly too; there are no halfmeasures with shrowks. They are toothless beasts, so don’t eat flesh.”
“As you show such admirable sangfroid,” said Maskull dryly, “I take itthere’s no particular danger.”
Nevertheless he instinctively tried to get on to his feet and failed. Anew form of paralysis was chaining him to the ground.
“Are you trying to get up?” asked Oceaxe smoothly.
“Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be nailing me down to therock with their wills. May I ask if you had any special object in viewin waking them up?”
“I assure you the danger is quite real, Maskull. Instead of talking andasking questions, you had much better see what you can do with yourwill.”
“I seem to have no will, unfortunately.”
Oceaxe was seized with a paroxysm of laughter, but it was still rich andbeautiful. “It’s obvious you aren’t a very heroic protector, Maskull. Itseems I must play the man, and you the woman. I expected better thingsof your big body. Why, my husband would send those creatures dancing allaround the sky, by way of a joke, before disposing of them. Now watchme. Two of the three I’ll kill; the third we will ride home on. Whichone shall we keep?”
The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Theirbodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation ofloathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they huntedwith their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swiftmotion.
“Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are equallyobjectionable to me.”
“Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most energeticanimal. Watch now.”
She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull feltsomething snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The twomonsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward theearth, one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, andthen lie motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fanciedthat its flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, buttame and unwilling.
Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite theirisland rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure.They immediately crossed the water.
Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feetlong. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; amane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome andunnatural, with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood-sucking cavity. There were true fins on its back and tail.
“Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s flank. “AsI have to steer, let me jump on first.”
She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’sback, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the finthere was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with hisouter hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and foradditional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it.
Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that thisride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires.
The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he hadbeen ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which wascommunicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling,passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, butOceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of hisfeelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The ridewill last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like a flute,but rather malicious.
Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm.
The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and roseslowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward thepainted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; thecontact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, wasmerely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, holdingon to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was theknowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh wasresponding to his touch like a lovely harp.
They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look aroundhim. By this time they were already level with the top of the outerrampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago ofislands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islandswere mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was ahigh tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomlesscracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others likelakes, in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. Theperpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts ofthe innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; but thelevel surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees alonewere distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of differentshapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying but didnot appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage.
As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and hispassion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gayand bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed acrossthe sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced noaesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for actionand possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted todeal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky;attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish toplay a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, thescenery had no significance for him.
So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxeturned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with whatshe saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord.
“Cold again so quickly, Maskull?”
“What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the side.“It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.”
“You wish to take a hand?”
“I wish to get down.”
“Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?”
“Different from what? What are you talking about?” said Maskull, stilllost in abstraction.
Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make a man ofyou, for the material is excellent.”
After that, she turned her back once more.
The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They werenot on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of br
okenterraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flyingwell above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffsconfronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it toenter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel.They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not abovethirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for manyhundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attemptedto plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity.
“What is at the bottom?” he asked.
“Death for you, if you go to look for it.”
“We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?”
“Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of course all thingsare possible.”
“I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully.
Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and see?”
“You find that amusing?”
“No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with thebeard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.”
Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormancewhich is not a novelty for me.”
“Yes, but I am a novelty for you.”
The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain,and all the time they were gradually rising.
“At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said Maskull,who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last ready forconversation.
“What’s the matter with my voice?”
“It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why I mentioned it.”
“Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?”
“Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?”
“I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but whether you are speakingor laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest and strangest instrumentI have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is inappropriate.”
“You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?”
He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly brokenoff by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from thegulf directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder.
“The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe.
“Shall we escape?”
She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such asteep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floorof the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could beheard, and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslipin the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall.A hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder eachsecond—splitting, hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding,roaring. When they had still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, asort of dark, indefinite sea of broken rocks and soil appeared undertheir feet, ascending rapidly, with irresistible might, accompanied bythe most horrible noises. The canal was filled up for two hundred yards,before and behind them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to beraised. The shrowk in its ascent was caught by the uplifted debris.Beast and riders experienced in that moment all the horrors of anearthquake—they were rolled violently over, and thrown among the rocksand dirt. All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion.
Before they had time to realise their position, they were in thesunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two thevalley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higherthan the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, asif by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves upand examined themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on itsside, panting violently, and sweating with fright.
“That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off hisperson.
Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe.
“It might have been far worse.... I mean, it’s bad enough to come up,but it’s death to go down, and that happens just as often.”
“Whatever induces you to live in such a country?”
“I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought of movingout of it.”
“A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in aplace like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute toanother.”
“You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling.
She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet.
“Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her perch. “Wehaven’t too much time to waste.”
He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over themountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to histhoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak intohis brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sitthere in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to bedoing something.
“How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without turningher head.
“What secrets—what do you mean?”
“Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I think itwouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still enough?”
“Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve far too manyproblems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some of them.”
He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way towarda distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous naturalquadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in abroad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered.
“What mountain is that?” he asked.
“Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.”
“Are we going there?”
“Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might beworth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole landas far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. You can alsosee Alppain from it.”
“That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.”
“Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his wrist.“Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn together.”
He grunted unintelligibly.
There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet.While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest notfar ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awfulroar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land oneminute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up withthe shock. “This is frightful.”
Oceaxe remained unmoved.
“Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, when he hadsomewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of steel.... Isthere no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?”
“Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” replied Oceaxe,with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but that doesn’tprevent our often getting caught.”
“You had better teach me the signs.”
“We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I expect,will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first let usget home.”
“How far is it now?”
“It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with herforefinger. “You can see it.”
He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, madeout the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about twomiles distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, thebottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining itto the mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct inthe brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middleof the peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady withsea-green
leaves.
“I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can I see twofigures, or am I mistaken?”
“I also see something,” said Maskull.
In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height ofabout fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on themainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They bothdescended—Maskull with aching thighs.
“What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without waiting for asuggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. “Fly away home! Imay want you some other time.”
It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, afterhalf running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air,and paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. Theywatched it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck ofland, followed by Maskull.
Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The skyhad by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. Theground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses.Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—andoccasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything lookedextraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weirdIfdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seenfrom a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, butonly desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. Helonged to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing elseseemed of the least importance to him.
On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled alarge copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle ofsmall trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps theroots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smallerfry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubblingfountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides,overhung with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure withan air of wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god mighthave dwelt here.
Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men whoformed the centre of the picture.
One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on atall couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, andwas eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plumslay on the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the treecompletely sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was cladin a rough skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell fromhis face whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features weresmooth, soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil;but his violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of thecolour of yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it wasviolet. The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feetaway from him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded,and rather commonplace, but there was something terrible about hisappearance. The features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain,despair, and horror.
Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermostshadows of the tree, some distance from the couch.
“We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking towardthe youth.
He eyed her, but said nothing.
“How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial butextremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on theground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down theskirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, withcrossed arms.
There was silence for a minute.
“Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” said the boy on the couch,in a calm, treble voice.
The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in astrangled tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are alreadybuds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.”
Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware thatalthough these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated bythe boy.
“What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow roots willreach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well established.Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, and hisfingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head into acrown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that within a monthyou and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from this new andremarkable tree.”
“I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out his handfor another plum. “They thrill me.”
“This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward.
The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt asif he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat.
“The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again afterBlodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I expect, soyou had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your roots.Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear to you now,in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. Now youmay go.”
The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxeyawned.
Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you joking,or are you a devil?”
“I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will devisea new punishment for you.”
The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretchedher beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness thestruggle between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; hereached out his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self-control broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—hisbeard wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he hadto deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw aterrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. Hegathered together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weightcontinued his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, tryingto get away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbledforward, recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile ofmosses, to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all hisbulk. Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head completely around,so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died.
The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskullviewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wondercame into his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s facehad undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personalcharacter had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning maskwhich expressed nothing.
He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seenthe brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the faceof the apparition at the siance, after Krag had dealt with it.
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