Chapter 9

Oceaxe

29 min

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

Maskull’s second day on Tormance dawned. Branchspell was already above the horizon when he woke up. He immediately noticed that his organs had changed overnight. His fleshy breve had become an eyelike sorb. His magn had swollen and developed into a third arm, growing from his chest. The arm immediately made him feel more physically secure. But he had to experiment with the sorb before he could understand what it did.

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

As he lay in the white sunlight, he opened and closed each of his three eyes in turn. He found that the two lower eyes served his understanding, while the upper eye served his will. With his lower eyes, he saw things in clear detail, but without personal interest. With the sorb, he saw nothing as existing on its own. Everything appeared important or unimportant according to his own needs.

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

Somewhat puzzled about how this would turn out, he got up and looked around. He had slept out of Oceaxe’s sight. He wanted to know if she was still there, but first he decided to bathe in the river.

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

It was a glorious morning. The hot white sun was already glaring, but a strong wind cooled its heat. The wind whistled through the trees. The sky was full of fantastic clouds. They looked like animals and were always changing shape. The ground and the leaves and branches of the forest trees still bore traces of heavy dew or overnight rain. A sharply sweet smell of nature filled his nostrils. His pain had quieted, and his spirits were high.

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

Before he bathed, he looked at the mountains of the Ifdawn Marest. They stood out like a picture in the morning sunlight. He guessed they were five to six thousand feet high. Their tall, uneven outline, with its castle-like peaks, looked like the walls of a magic city. The cliffs facing him were made of brightly colored rock: vermilion, emerald, yellow, ulfire, and black. As he gazed at them, his heart began to beat like a slow, heavy drum. A thrill ran through him, and indescribable hopes, aspirations, and emotions came over him. What he felt was more than the conquest of a new world. It was something different....

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

He bathed and drank, and as he was getting dressed again, Oceaxe strolled up lazily.

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

He could now see the color of her skin. It was a vivid yet delicate mixture of carmine, white, and jale. The effect was startlingly unearthly. With these new colors, she looked like a true inhabitant of a strange planet. There was also something curious about her figure. Her curves were womanly, and her bones were distinctly female. Yet somehow they all seemed to express a daring, masculine will beneath them. The commanding eye on her forehead made the same puzzle clearer. Its bold, domineering self-importance was tinged with hints of sexuality and softness.

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

She came to the river’s edge and looked him over from head to toe. “Now you’re built more like a man,” she said, in her lovely, lingering voice.

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

“You see, the experiment worked,” he replied, smiling cheerfully.

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

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

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

“A woman did give it to me.” His smile faded. “But I saw nothing ridiculous about the gift then, and I don’t now.”

“I think I’d look better in it.”

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

As she drawled the words, she began taking off the skin that fit her so well. She gestured for him to exchange clothes with her. He obeyed, somewhat embarrassed, because he realized the exchange was actually more suitable for his sex. He found the skin less restrictive to wear. In his draped clothes, Oceaxe seemed more dangerously feminine to him.

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

“I don’t want you to accept any gifts from other women at all,” she said slowly.

“Why not? What can I be to you?”

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

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

“In what way?”

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

She did not answer his question, but began pulling off pieces of bark.

“Last night you were so contemptuous.”

“Last night you were so scornful.”

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

“Last night isn't today. Do you always walk through the world looking over your shoulder?”

It was now Maskull’s turn to be silent.

Now it was Maskull’s turn to be silent.

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

“Still, if you have male instincts, and I suppose you do, you can’t resist 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.”

“But this is absurd,” said Maskull, opening his eyes wide. “I admit you’re a beautiful woman, but we can’t be that primitive.”

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

Oceaxe sighed and stood up. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait.”

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

“From that, I gather you intend to make the journey with me. I have no objection. In fact, I’ll be glad to have you along, but only if you stop talking that way.”

“Yet you do think me beautiful?”

“But you do think I’m beautiful?”

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

“Why shouldn’t I think so if it’s true? I don’t see what that has to do with my feelings. End it, Oceaxe. You’ll find plenty of men who will admire and love you.”

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

At that, she flared up. “Does love pick and choose, you fool? Do you think I’m so desperate that I have to hunt for lovers? Isn’t Crimtyphon waiting for me right now?”

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

“All right. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Now don’t tempt me any further. For it is a temptation when a lovely woman is involved. I can’t control myself.”

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

“I'm not suggesting anything so terrible, am I? Why are you humiliating me like this?”

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

Maskull put his hands behind his back. “I repeat, I am not in control of myself.”

“Then who is your master?”

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

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

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

“Did you talk to him?” she asked curiously.

“I did.”

“Tell me what he said.”

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

“No, I can’t. I won’t. But whatever he said, his beauty was more tormenting than yours, Oceaxe. That’s why I can look at you without emotion.”

“Did Surtur forbid you to be a man?”

“Did Surtur forbid you from being a man?”

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

Maskull frowned. “Is love such a manly sport, then? I would have thought it was feminine.”

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

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

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

“Let’s talk about something else, and above all, let’s get going.”

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

She suddenly burst into laughter, so rich, sweet, and enchanting that he felt half aroused. He almost wanted to take her in his arms. “Oh, Maskull, Maskull, what a fool you are!”

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

“How am I a fool?” he demanded. He scowled, not at her words, but at his own weakness.

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

“Isn’t the whole world the work of countless pairs of lovers? And yet you think you’re above all that. You try to escape nature, but where will you find a hole to hide in?”

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

“Besides beauty, I now see that you have a second quality: persistence.”

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

“Read me carefully, and by natural law you’ll think twice, even three times, before throwing me away.... Now, before we go, we’d better eat.”

“Eat?” said Maskull thoughtfully.

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

“What food is it?”

“What kind of food is it?”

“Fish from the river.”

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

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

“Is there nothing milder?”

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

She curled her lip scornfully. “You came through Poolingdred, didn’t you? All the people there are the same. They think life is meant to be watched, not lived. Now that you’re visiting Ifdawn, you’ll have to change your ideas.”

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

“Go catch your fish,” he replied, frowning.

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

The broad, clear waters flowed past them from the mountains in swelling waves. Oceaxe knelt on the bank and peered into the depths. Soon her expression grew tense and focused. She reached into the water and pulled out some kind of little monster. With its scaly plates and teeth, it looked more like a reptile than a fish. She threw it on the ground, and it began to crawl around. Suddenly she sent all her will into her sorb. The creature leaped into the air and fell down dead.

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

She picked up a sharp-edged piece of slate and used it to remove the scales and entrails. As she worked, her hands and clothing became stained with light scarlet blood.

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

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

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

He searched for it. It was hard to find because its rays had grown dim and weak in the sunlight. But at last he found it. Oceaxe placed it inside the monster and left the body lying on the ground.

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

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

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

Maskull looked at her in confusion. He was struck again by the paradox of her contrasting sexual traits. Her manner was bold, domineering, and masculine in its self-importance. It seemed completely at odds with the fascinating and disturbing femininity of her voice. A startling idea flashed into his mind.

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

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

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

She held her red, dripping hands away from her clothing and gave a delightful, jarring laugh. “You think I am half a man?”

“Answer my question.”

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

“I’m a woman through and through, Maskull, right down to my bones. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never absorbed males.”

“And that means...”

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

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

“For you, yes—But for them?...”

“For you, yes. But for them?...”

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

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

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

“This is a terrible business!” he exclaimed, looking at her gloomily. “You would think Ifdawn was a land of devils.”

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

Oceaxe gave a beautiful sneer as she stepped toward the river. “Better men than you, better in every way, are walking around with someone else’s will inside them. You can be as moral as you like, Maskull, but the fact remains. Animals were made to be eaten, and simple natures were made to be absorbed.”

“And human rights count for nothing!”

“And human rights mean nothing!”

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

She had bent over the edge of the river to wash her arms and hands. But she glanced back over her shoulder to answer him. “They do count. But we only see a man as human as long as he can hold his own with others.”

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

The meat soon cooked, and they ate breakfast in silence. From time to time, Maskull gave his companion troubled, doubtful looks. The meal tasted sickening, even cannibalistic. He did not know whether this was because of the strange food or because he had gone so long without eating. He ate little, and as soon as he got up, he felt defiled.

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

“Let me bury this drude where I can find it another time,” said Oceaxe. “Next time, though, I won't have Maskull with me to shock.... Now we have to take to the river.”

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

They stepped off the land onto the water. A slow current flowed against them, but it did not hold them back. Instead, it made them push harder, and they moved faster. They traveled upriver this way for several miles. The exercise gradually improved Maskull’s blood circulation, and he began to see things much more cheerfully. The hot sunshine, the gentler wind, the marvelous clouds, the quiet, crystal forests were all soothing and delightful. They drew closer and closer to the brightly colored heights of Ifdawn.

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

There was something mysterious about those bright walls. They attracted him, yet he felt a kind of awe. They looked real, but also deeply supernatural. Imagine seeing a portrait of a ghost, painted in solid colors with a clear, firm outline. That sight would produce exactly the same feelings Maskull had as he studied the Ifdawn precipices.

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

He broke the long silence. “Those mountains have very unusual shapes. All the lines are straight and vertical. There are no slopes or curves.”

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

She walked backward on the water so she could face him. “That’s typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows here. Nothing soft or gradual.”

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

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

“All over the Marest, you’ll find patches of ground that drop sharply or rise steeply. Trees grow fast. Women and men don’t think twice before acting. You could call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions.”

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

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

“What is it like where you come from?” asked Oceaxe.

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

“Oh, my world is worn out. There, nature takes a hundred years to move a foot of solid ground. Men and animals move around in flocks. They have lost the habit of being original.”

“Are there women there?”

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

“Like yours, and not very different in shape.”

“Do they love?”

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

He laughed. “So much so that it has changed how the entire sex dresses, speaks, and thinks.”

“Probably they are more beautiful than I?”

“They are probably more beautiful than me?”

“No, I think not,” said Maskull.

“No, I don't think so,” said Maskull.

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

There was another fairly long silence as they traveled unsteadily onward.

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

“What are you doing in Ifdawn?” Oceaxe demanded suddenly.

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

He hesitated before answering. “Can you imagine having a goal right in front of you that’s too big to see as a whole?”

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

She gave him a long, curious look. “What sort of aim?”

“A moral aim.”

“A moral goal.”

“Are you proposing to set the world right?”

“Are you suggesting you can fix the world?”

“I propose nothing—I am waiting.”

“I suggest nothing. I am waiting.”

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

“Don’t wait too long, because time doesn’t wait, especially in Ifdawn.”

“Something will happen,” said Maskull.

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

Oceaxe smiled subtly. “So you have no particular destination in the Marest?”

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

“No, and if you’ll let me, I’ll come home with you.”

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

“What a strange man!” she said with a short, thrilling laugh. “That’s what I’ve been offering all along. Of course you’ll 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.

“This doesn’t make things better,” said Maskull.

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

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

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

“We’re clearly misunderstanding each other,” said Maskull, startled. “Do you think I’m making an agreement with you?”

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

“You won't have to do anything you don't want to. But you promised to come home with me.”

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

“Tell me, how do you get rid of husbands in Ifdawn?”

“Either you or I must kill him.”

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

He stared at her for a full minute. “Now we’re moving from foolishness to madness.”

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

“Not at all,” replied Oceaxe. “It is the all too sad truth. And when you see Crimtyphon, you will realize it.”

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

“I know I’m on a strange planet,” said Maskull slowly. “All sorts of unheard-of things may happen here, and even the laws of morality may be different. But as far as I’m concerned, murder is murder. I’ll have nothing more to do with a woman who wants to use me to get rid of her husband.”

“You think me wicked?” demanded Oceaxe steadily.

“Do you think I'm wicked?” Oceaxe asked steadily.

“Or mad.”

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

“Then you'd better leave me, Maskull. Only...”

“Only what?”

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

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

Maskull frowned, but said nothing.

Maskull frowned but said nothing.

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

“Well?” Oceaxe demanded, with a slight smile.

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

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

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

Oceaxe burst into rich, feminine laughter. Maskull did not know whether she was laughing at the image his last words had brought to mind or for some other reason. The conversation stopped.

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

About two miles from the cliffs, which now towered above them, the river turned sharply west at a right angle. It was no longer useful for their journey. Maskull looked up doubtfully.

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

“It’s a tough climb for a hot morning.”

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

“Let’s rest here a little,” she said, pointing to a smooth, flat island of black rock. It rose just above the water in the middle of the river.

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

So they went to it, and Maskull sat down. But Oceaxe stood straight and graceful, facing the cliffs opposite. She gave a piercing, unusual call.

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

“What is that for?” She did not answer. After a minute, she called again. Maskull saw a large bird leave the top of one of the cliffs and glide slowly down toward them. Two other birds followed it. They flew very slowly and clumsily.

“What are they?” he asked.

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

She still did not answer, but smiled rather strangely and sat down beside him. Within a few minutes, he could make out the shapes and colors of the flying monsters. They were not birds, but creatures with long, snakelike bodies. Each had ten reptilian legs that ended in fins, which acted as wings. Their bodies were bright blue, and their legs and fins were yellow. They were flying straight toward them, slowly but in a somewhat ominous way. He could see a long, thin spike sticking out of each creature's head.

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

“They’re shrowks,” Oceaxe finally explained. “If you want to know what they intend to do, I’ll tell you. They intend to eat us. First, their spikes will pierce us. Then their mouths, which are really suckers, will drain us dry of blood. They’ll do it pretty thoroughly too. Shrowks don’t do things by halves. They have no teeth, so they don’t eat flesh.”

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

“Since you’re so admirably calm,” Maskull said dryly, “I assume there’s no particular danger.”

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

Even so, he instinctively tried to get to his feet, but failed. A new kind of paralysis held him to the ground.

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

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

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

“Well, yes, but those cursed reptiles seem to be pinning me to the rock with their wills. Can I ask if you had a particular reason for waking them up?”

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

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

“I seem to have no will, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately, I seem to have no will.”

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

Oceaxe burst out laughing, but her laughter was still rich and beautiful. “It's obvious you aren't much of a heroic protector, Maskull. It seems I must play the man, and you the woman. I expected more from someone with such a big body. Why, my husband would send those creatures dancing all around the sky as a joke before getting rid of them. Now watch me. I'll kill two of the three. We'll ride the third one home. Which one shall we keep?”

The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their bodies were of huge size. They produced in Maskull the same sensation of loathing as insects did. He instinctively understood that as they hunted with their wills, there was no necessity for them to possess a swift motion.

The shrowks continued their slow, wobbling flight toward them. Their bodies were huge. They filled Maskull with the same disgust he felt toward insects. He instinctively understood that they did not need to move quickly because they hunted with their wills.

“Choose which you please,” he said shortly. “They are equally objectionable to me.”

“Choose whichever you like,” he said curtly. “I find them equally objectionable.”

“Then I’ll choose the leader, as it is presumably the most energetic animal. Watch now.”

“Then I’ll choose the leader, since it’s probably the most energetic animal. Watch now.”

She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free once more. The two monsters in the rear staggered and darted head foremost toward the earth, one after the other. He watched them crash on the ground, and then lie motionless. The leader still came toward them, but he fancied that its flight was altered in character; it was no longer menacing, but tame and unwilling.

She stood upright, and her sorb suddenly blazed with fire. Maskull felt something snap inside his brain. His limbs were free again. The two monsters behind the leader staggered, then plunged headfirst toward the earth, one after the other. He watched them crash to the ground and lie still. The leader still came toward them, but its flight seemed different to him. It no longer seemed threatening, but tame and reluctant.

Oceaxe guided it with her will to the mainland shore opposite their island rock. Its vast bulk lay there extended, awaiting her pleasure. They immediately crossed the water.

Oceaxe used her will to guide it to the mainland shore across from their rocky island. Its vast bulk lay stretched out there, waiting for her command. They immediately crossed the water.

Maskull viewed the shrowk at close quarters. It was about thirty feet long. Its bright-coloured skin was shining, slippery, and leathery; a mane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was awesome and unnatural, with its carnivorous eyes, frightful stiletto, and blood-sucking cavity. There were true fins on its back and tail.

Maskull examined the shrowk up close. It was about thirty feet long. Its brightly colored skin was shiny, slippery, and leathery. A mane of black hair covered its long neck. Its face was terrifying and unnatural, with flesh-eating eyes, a fearsome stiletto, and a blood-sucking cavity. It had true fins on its back and tail.

“Have you a good seat?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s flank. “As I have to steer, let me jump on first.”

“Are you sitting comfortably?” asked Oceaxe, patting the creature’s side. “Since I have to steer, let me get on first.”

She pulled up her gown, then climbed up and sat astride the animal’s back, just behind the mane, which she clutched. Between her and the fin there was just room for Maskull. He grasped the two flanks with his outer hands; his third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and for additional security he was compelled to encircle her waist with it.

She pulled up her dress, climbed onto the animal, and sat astride its back just behind the mane. She gripped the mane. There was just enough room for Maskull between her and the fin. He gripped the animal’s sides with his outer hands. His third, new arm pressed against Oceaxe’s back, and he had to wrap it around her waist for extra security.

Directly he did so, he realised that he had been tricked, and that this ride had been planned for one purpose only—to inflame his desires.

As soon as he did so, he realized he had been tricked. The ride had been planned for one purpose only: to inflame his desires.

The third arm possessed a function of its own, of which hitherto he had been ignorant. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love which was communicated to it was no longer pure and noble—it was boiling, passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth, and kept quiet, but Oceaxe had not plotted the adventure to remain unconscious of his feelings. She looked around, with a golden, triumphant smile. “The ride will last some time, so hold on well!” Her voice was soft like a flute, but rather malicious.

The third arm had a function of its own that he had not known about until now. It was a developed magn. But the stream of love that reached the arm was no longer pure and noble. It was boiling, passionate, and torturing. He gritted his teeth and kept quiet, but Oceaxe had planned the adventure so she could see his feelings. She looked around with a golden, triumphant smile. “The ride will last a while, so hold on tight!” Her voice was soft as a flute, but rather malicious.

Maskull grinned, and said nothing. He dared not remove his arm.

Maskull grinned and said nothing. He didn't dare move his arm.

The shrowk straddled on to its legs. It jerked itself forward, and rose slowly and uncouthly in the air. They began to paddle upward toward the painted cliffs. The motion was swaying, rocking, and sickening; the contact of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. All this, however, was merely background to Maskull, as he sat there with closed eyes, holding on to Oceaxe. In the front and centre of his consciousness was the knowledge that he was gripping a fair woman, and that her flesh was responding to his touch like a lovely harp.

The shrowk got to its feet. It jerked forward and rose slowly and awkwardly into the air. They began to paddle upward toward the painted cliffs. The motion swayed and rocked, making them feel sick. The touch of the brute’s slimy skin was disgusting. But all this was merely background to Maskull as he sat with his eyes closed, holding on to Oceaxe. What filled his mind was the knowledge that he was holding a beautiful woman. Her flesh responded to his touch like a lovely harp.

They climbed up and up. He opened his eyes, and ventured to look around him. By this time they were already level with the top of the outer rampart of precipices. There now came in sight a wild archipelago of islands, with jagged outlines, emerging from a sea of air. The islands were mountain summits; or, more accurately speaking, the country was a high tableland, fissured everywhere by narrow and apparently bottomless cracks. These cracks were in some cases like canals, in others like lakes, in others merely holes in the ground, closed in all round. The perpendicular sides of the islands—that is, the upper, visible parts of the innumerable cliff faces—were of bare rock, gaudily coloured; but the level surfaces were a tangle of wild plant life. The taller trees alone were distinguishable from the shrowk’s back. They were of different shapes, and did not look ancient; they were slender and swaying but did not appear very graceful; they looked tough, wiry, and savage.

They climbed higher and higher. He opened his eyes and dared to look around. By now, they were level with the top of the outer wall of cliffs. A wild cluster of jagged islands came into view, rising from a sea of air. The islands were mountain peaks. Or, more accurately, the land was a high plateau, split everywhere by narrow, apparently bottomless cracks. Some cracks were like canals, others like lakes, and others were simply holes completely enclosed by land. The islands had sheer sides of bare rock, brightly colored. These were the upper, visible parts of countless cliff faces. But the flat surfaces were covered in tangled wild plants. From the shrowk’s back, only the taller trees could be made out. They had different shapes and did not look old. They were slender and swaying, but did not seem very graceful. They looked tough, wiry, and savage.

As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his passion. Other strange feelings came to the front. The morning was gay and bright. The sun scorched down, quickly-changing clouds sailed across the sky, the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he experienced no aesthetic sensations—he felt nothing but an intense longing for action and possession. When he looked at anything, he immediately wanted to deal with it. The atmosphere of the land seemed not free, but sticky; attraction and repulsion were its constituents. Apart from this wish to play a personal part in what was going on around and beneath him, the scenery had no significance for him.

As Maskull continued to explore the landscape, he forgot Oceaxe and his passion. Other strange feelings came to the surface. The morning was cheerful and bright. The sun beat down, clouds quickly changed shape as they sailed across the sky, and the earth was vivid, wild, and lonely. Yet he felt no appreciation for its beauty. He felt only an intense longing for action and possession. Whenever he looked at anything, he immediately wanted to act on it. The atmosphere of the land seemed sticky rather than free, made up of attraction and repulsion. The scenery meant nothing to him apart from his desire to play a personal part in what was happening around and beneath him.

So preoccupied was he, that his arm partly released its clasp. Oceaxe turned around to gaze at him. Whether or not she was satisfied with what she saw, she uttered a low laugh, like a peculiar chord.

He was so distracted that his arm loosened its hold. Oceaxe turned to look at him. Whether or not she liked what she saw, she gave a low laugh that sounded like a strange chord.

“Cold again so quickly, Maskull?”

“Cold again so soon, Maskull?”

“What do you want?” he asked absently, still looking over the side. “It’s extraordinary how drawn I feel to all this.”

“What do you want?” he asked distractedly, still looking over the side. “It’s amazing how drawn I feel to all this.”

“You wish to take a hand?”

“Do you want to join in?”

“I wish to get down.”

“I want to get down.”

“Oh, we have a good way to go yet.... So you really feel different?”

“Oh, we still have a long way to go.... So you really feel different?”

“Different from what? What are you talking about?” said Maskull, still lost in abstraction.

“Different from what? What are you talking about?” said Maskull, still lost in thought.

Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make a man of you, for the material is excellent.”

Oceaxe laughed again. “It would be strange if we couldn’t make a man of you, because the material is excellent.”

After that, she turned her back once more.

After that, she turned her back again.

The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They were not on a plane surface, but sloped upward, like a succession of broken terraces, as the journey progressed. The shrowk had hitherto been flying well above the ground; but now, when a new line of towering cliffs confronted them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward, but caused it to enter a narrow canyon, which intersected the mountains like a channel. They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canal was not above thirty feet wide; the walls stretched upward on both sides for many hundred feet. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull attempted to plumb the chasm with his eyes, he saw nothing but black obscurity.

The air islands differed from water islands in another way. They did not lie on a flat surface. Instead, they rose like a series of broken terraces as the journey went on. Until now, the shrowk had been flying high above the ground. But when another line of towering cliffs rose before them, Oceaxe did not urge the beast upward. Instead, she guided it into a narrow canyon that cut through the mountains like a channel. They were instantly plunged into deep shade. The canyon was no more than thirty feet wide. Its walls rose hundreds of feet on either side. It was as cool as an ice chamber. When Maskull tried to see into the depths of the chasm, he saw nothing but darkness.

“What is at the bottom?” he asked.

“Death for you, if you go to look for it.”

“You’ll die if you go looking for it.”

“We know that. I mean, is there any kind of life down there?”

“Not that I have ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of course all things are possible.”

“Not that I've ever heard of,” said Oceaxe, “but of course anything is possible.”

“I think very likely there is life,” he returned thoughtfully.

“I think there is very likely life,” he replied thoughtfully.

Her ironical laugh sounded out of the gloom. “Shall we go down and see?”

Her mocking laugh came out of the darkness. “Shall we go down and see?”

“You find that amusing?”

“You find that funny?”

“No, not that. What I do find amusing is the big stranger with the beard, who is so keenly interested in everything except himself.”

“No, not that. What I find amusing is the big stranger with the beard. He’s so interested in everything except himself.”

Maskull then laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance which is not a novelty for me.”

Maskull laughed too. “I happen to be the only thing in Tormance that isn't new to me.”

“Yes, but I am a novelty for you.”

“Yes, but I’m something new to you.”

The channel went zigzagging its way through the belly of the mountain, and all the time they were gradually rising.

The channel zigzagged through the mountain, gradually rising as they went.

“At least I have heard nothing like your voice before,” said Maskull, who, since he had no longer anything to look at, was at last ready for conversation.

“At least I’ve never heard a voice like yours before,” said Maskull. Since he no longer had anything to look at, he was finally ready to talk.

“What’s the matter with my voice?”

“It’s all that I can distinguish of you now; that’s why I mentioned it.”

“It’s all I can make out of you now. That’s why I mentioned it.”

“Isn’t it clear—don’t I speak distinctly?”

“Isn’t it clear? Am I not speaking clearly?”

“Oh, it’s clear enough, but—it’s inappropriate.”

“Oh, it’s clear enough, but it’s inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?”

“I won’t explain further,” said Maskull, “but whether you are speaking or laughing, your voice is by far the loveliest and strangest instrument I have ever listened to. And yet I repeat, it is inappropriate.”

“I won’t explain further,” said Maskull. “But whether you speak or laugh, your voice is the loveliest and strangest instrument I’ve ever heard. And yet I say again, it’s inappropriate.”

“You mean that my nature doesn’t correspond?”

“You mean that my nature doesn’t match?”

He was just considering his reply, when their talk was abruptly broken off by a huge and terrifying, but not very loud sound rising up from the gulf directly underneath them. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder.

He was just thinking about his reply when a huge, terrifying sound suddenly interrupted their conversation. It rose from the gulf directly beneath them, though it was not very loud. It was a low, grinding, roaring thunder.

“The ground is rising under us!” cried Oceaxe.

“The ground is rising beneath us!” Oceaxe shouted.

“Shall we escape?”

“Will we escape?”

She made no answer, but urged the shrowk’s flight upward, at such a steep gradient that they retained their seats with difficulty. The floor of the canyon, upheaved by some mighty subterranean force, could be heard, and almost felt, coming up after them, like a gigantic landslip in the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. A hundred awful noises filled the air, growing louder and louder each second—splitting, hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. When they had still fifty feet or so to go, to reach the top, a sort of dark, indefinite sea of broken rocks and soil appeared under their feet, ascending rapidly, with irresistible might, accompanied by the most horrible noises. The canal was filled up for two hundred yards, before and behind them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be raised. The shrowk in its ascent was caught by the uplifted debris. Beast and riders experienced in that moment all the horrors of an earthquake—they were rolled violently over, and thrown among the rocks and dirt. All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion.

She did not answer, but urged the shrowk to fly upward. It climbed so steeply that they struggled to stay in their seats. Some mighty force beneath the ground was thrusting the canyon floor upward after them. They could hear it and almost feel it, like a gigantic landslide moving in the wrong direction. The cliffs cracked, and fragments began to fall. A hundred terrible noises filled the air, growing louder every second: splitting, hissing, cracking, grinding, booming, exploding, roaring. They still had about fifty feet to go before reaching the top. Then a dark, shapeless sea of broken rock and soil appeared beneath their feet. It rose rapidly with irresistible force, making the most horrible noises. The canal was filled for two hundred yards in both directions from them. Millions of tons of solid matter seemed to be rising. As the shrowk climbed, the rising debris caught it. Beast and riders felt all the horrors of an earthquake in that moment. They were rolled violently over and thrown among the rocks and dirt. All was thunder, instability, motion, confusion.

Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the sunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the valley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher than the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as if by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up and examined themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its side, panting violently, and sweating with fright.

Before they had time to understand where they were, they were in the sunlight. The upheaval continued. In another minute or two, the valley floor had formed a new mountain, at least a hundred feet higher than the old one. Then the mountain suddenly stopped moving. Every sound stopped, as if by magic. Not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull got up and checked themselves for cuts and bruises. The shrowk lay on its side, panting violently and sweating with fear.

“That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, flicking the dirt off his person.

“That was a nasty affair,” said Maskull, brushing the dirt off himself.

Oceaxe staunched a cut on her chin with a corner of her robe.

Oceaxe used a corner of her robe to stop the bleeding from a cut on her chin.

“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.”

“It could have been much worse.... I mean, coming up is bad enough, but going down means death. And that happens just as often.”

“Whatever induces you to live in such a country?”

“Why on earth do you live in a country like this?”

“I don’t know, Maskull. Habit, I suppose. I have often thought of moving out of it.”

“I don’t know, Maskull. I guess it’s a habit. I’ve often thought about moving out of it.”

“A good deal must be forgiven you for having to spend your life in a place like this, where one is obviously never safe from one minute to another.”

“You deserve a lot of forgiveness for having to spend your life in a place like this. Clearly, no one is ever safe here, even for a minute.”

“You will learn by degrees,” she answered, smiling.

“You will learn gradually,” she answered, smiling.

She looked hard at the monster, and it got heavily to its feet.

She stared hard at the monster, and it rose heavily to its feet.

“Get on again, Maskull!” she directed, climbing back to her perch. “We haven’t too much time to waste.”

“Get on again, Maskull!” she said, climbing back onto her perch. “We don’t have much time to waste.”

He obeyed. They resumed their interrupted flight, this time over the mountains, and in full sunlight. Maskull settled down again to his thoughts. The peculiar atmosphere of the country continued to soak into his brain. His will became so restless and uneasy that merely to sit there in inactivity was a torture. He could scarcely endure not to be doing something.

He obeyed. They resumed their flight, this time over the mountains in full sunlight. Maskull settled back into his thoughts. The strange atmosphere of the country continued to seep into his mind. His will grew so restless and uneasy that sitting there doing nothing was torture. He could hardly bear not doing something.

“How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without turning her head.

“You’re so secretive, Maskull!” Oceaxe said quietly, without turning her head.

“What secrets—what do you mean?”

“What secrets? What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you. Now I think it wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—is friendship still enough?”

“Oh, I know perfectly well what’s going on inside you. Now I think it’s fair to ask you: is friendship still enough?”

“Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I’ve far too many problems in my head already. I only wish I could answer some of them.”

“Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull. “I already have too many problems on my mind. I just wish I could solve some of them.”

He stared stonily at the landscape. The beast was winging its way toward a distant mountain, of singular shape. It was an enormous natural quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered.

He stared blankly at the landscape. The beast was flying toward a distant mountain with an unusual shape. The mountain was an enormous natural pyramid with four sides. It rose in great terraces to a broad, flat top, where what looked like green snow still lingered.

“What mountain is that?” he asked.

“Disscourn. The highest point in Ifdawn.”

“Are we going there?”

“Why should we go there? But if you were going on farther, it might be worth your while to pay a visit to the top. It commands the whole land as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—and beyond. You can also see Alppain from it.”

“Why should we go there? But if you’re going farther, it might be worth visiting the top. From there, you can see the whole land as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island, and beyond. You can also see Alppain from there.”

“That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.”

“That’s a sight I plan to see before I’m 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.

He grunted, but no one could understand him.

There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet. While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf. What was solid land one minute became a clean-cut chasm the next. He jumped violently up with the shock. “This is frightful.”

There were no signs of human life in the country below them. Maskull was still staring at it grimly when a large stretch of forest nearby suddenly sank with a terrible roar. Its many trees and rocks crashed down into a hidden gulf. What had been solid land one minute was a sharply cut chasm the next. He jumped violently at the shock. “This is terrifying.”

Oceaxe remained unmoved.

“Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, when he had somewhat recovered himself. “A man would need nerves of steel.... Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?”

“Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on after he had recovered somewhat. “A man would need nerves of steel.... Is there no way at all to foresee a catastrophe like this?”

“Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” replied Oceaxe, with composure. “We are more or less clever at it—but that doesn’t prevent our often getting caught.”

“Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” Oceaxe replied calmly. “We’re fairly clever at it, but we still often get caught.”

“You had better teach me the signs.”

“You should teach me the signs.”

“We’ll have many things to go over together. And among them, I expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all.... But first let us get home.”

“We’ll have many things to discuss together. I expect one of them will be whether we should stay in this land at all.... But first, let’s get home.”

“How far is it now?”

“It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her forefinger. “You can see it.”

“It’s right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her index finger. “You can see it.”

He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made out the spot she was indicating. It was a broad peninsula, about two miles distant. Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the bottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it to the mainland. It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in the brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle of the peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with sea-green leaves.

He followed her pointing finger and, after asking a few questions, found the spot she meant. It was a broad peninsula about two miles away. Three sides rose straight out of a lake of air whose bottom was invisible. A narrow neck of land joined the fourth side to the mainland. Bright vegetation covered the peninsula, clearly visible in the brilliant atmosphere. A single tall tree rose from the middle of the peninsula, towering over everything else. It was broad and shady, with sea-green leaves.

“I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” remarked Oceaxe. “Can I see two figures, or am I mistaken?”

“I wonder if Crimtyphon is there,” said Oceaxe. “Do I see two figures, or am I mistaken?”

“I also see something,” said Maskull.

In twenty minutes they were directly above the peninsula, at a height of about fifty feet. The shrowk slackened speed, and came to earth on the mainland, exactly at the gateway of the isthmus. They both descended—Maskull with aching thighs.

Twenty minutes later, they were directly above the peninsula, about fifty feet up. The shrowk slowed down and landed on the mainland, right at the entrance to the isthmus. They both got off. Maskull's thighs ached.

“What shall we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without waiting for a suggestion, she patted its hideous face with her hand. “Fly away home! I may want you some other time.”

“What should we do with the monster?” asked Oceaxe. Without waiting for an answer, she patted its hideous face. “Fly home! I may want you again sometime.”

It gave a stupid grunt, elevated itself on its legs again, and, after half running, half flying for a few yards, rose awkwardly into the air, and paddled away in the same direction from which they had come. They watched it out of sight, and then Oceaxe started to cross the neck of land, followed by Maskull.

It gave a stupid grunt and got back on its legs. After moving a few yards, half running and half flying, it rose awkwardly into the air. It paddled away in the direction they had come from. They watched until it disappeared from sight. Then Oceaxe started across the neck of land, followed by Maskull.

Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with pitiless force. The sky had by degrees become cloudless, and the wind had dropped entirely. The ground was a rich riot of vividly coloured ferns, shrubs, and grasses. Through these could be seen here and there the golden chalky soil—and occasionally a glittering, white metallic boulder. Everything looked extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the weird Ifdawn Marest which had created such strange feelings in him when seen from a distance.... And now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all, but only desired to meet human beings—so intense had grown his will. He longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed of the least importance to him.

Branchspell’s white rays beat down on them with merciless force. The sky had gradually cleared, and the wind had died completely. The ground was covered in a riot of brightly colored ferns, shrubs, and grasses. Here and there, golden, chalky soil showed through the plants, and occasionally a glittering white metallic boulder appeared. Everything looked extraordinary and barbaric. Maskull was at last walking in the strange Ifdawn Marest. Seeing it from a distance had stirred such strange feelings in him.... But now he felt no wonder or curiosity at all. He only wanted to meet human beings, so intense had his desire become. He longed to test his powers on his fellow creatures, and nothing else seemed to matter to him at all.

On the peninsula all was coolness and delicate shade. It resembled a large copse, about two acres in extent. In the heart of the tangle of small trees and undergrowth was a partially cleared space—perhaps the roots of the giant tree growing in the centre had killed off the smaller fry all around it. By the side of the tree sparkled a little, bubbling fountain, whose water was iron-red. The precipices on all sides, overhung with thorns, flowers, and creepers, invested the enclosure with an air of wild and charming seclusion—a mythological mountain god might have dwelt here.

The peninsula was cool and filled with delicate shade. It looked like a large grove, covering about two acres. At the heart of the tangled small trees and undergrowth was a partly cleared space. Perhaps the roots of the giant tree growing in the center had killed off the smaller plants around it. Beside the tree, a small fountain bubbled and sparkled, its water iron-red. Cliffs rose on all sides, draped with thorns, flowers, and climbing plants. They gave the clearing a wild and charming seclusion. A mythological mountain god might have lived here.

Maskull’s restless eye left everything, to fall on the two men who formed the centre of the picture.

Maskull’s restless gaze left everything else and settled on the two men at the center of the scene.

One was reclining, in the ancient Grecian fashion of banqueters on a tall couch of mosses, sprinkled with flowers; he rested on one arm, and was eating a kind of plum, with calm enjoyment. A pile of these plums lay on the couch beside him. The over-spreading branches of the tree completely sheltered him from the sun. His small, boyish form was clad in a rough skin, leaving his limbs naked. Maskull could not tell from his face whether he were a young boy or a grown man. The features were smooth, soft, and childish, their expression was seraphically tranquil; but his violet upper eye was sinister and adult. His skin was of the colour of yellow ivory. His long, curling hair matched his sorb—it was violet. The second man was standing erect before the other, a few feet away from him. He was short and muscular, his face was broad, bearded, and rather commonplace, but there was something terrible about his appearance. The features were distorted by a deep-seated look of pain, despair, and horror.

One man reclined on a tall couch of mosses sprinkled with flowers, like a banqueter in ancient Greece. He rested on one arm, calmly enjoying a kind of plum. A pile of the plums lay beside him on the couch. The tree’s spreading branches sheltered him completely from the sun. His small, boyish body was dressed in a rough skin, leaving his limbs bare. Maskull could not tell from his face whether he was a young boy or a grown man. His features were smooth, soft, and childlike, and his expression was angelically peaceful. But his upper eye was violet, sinister, and adult. His skin was the color of yellow ivory. His long, curling hair was violet, matching his sorb. The second man stood upright a few feet in front of him. He was short and muscular, with a broad, bearded, rather ordinary face. But there was something terrible about his appearance. His features were distorted by a deep look of pain, despair, and horror.

Oceaxe, without pausing, strolled lightly and lazily up to the outermost shadows of the tree, some distance from the couch.

Without pausing, Oceaxe strolled lightly and lazily to the edge of the tree's shadow, some distance from the couch.

“We have met with an uplift,” she remarked carelessly, looking toward the youth.

“We've come across an uplift,” she said casually, looking toward the young man.

He eyed her, but said nothing.

He looked at her but said nothing.

“How is your plant man getting on?” Her tone was artificial but extremely beautiful. While waiting for an answer, she sat down on the ground, her legs gracefully thrust under her body, and pulled down the skirt of her robe. Maskull remained standing just behind her, with crossed arms.

“How is your plant man doing?” Her tone was artificial but extremely beautiful. As she waited for an answer, she sat on the ground, tucking her legs gracefully beneath her. She pulled down the skirt of her robe. Maskull stood just behind her, his arms crossed.

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.

“Why don’t you answer your mistress, Sature?” asked the boy on the couch in a calm, high-pitched voice.

The man addressed did not alter his expression, but replied in a strangled tone, “I am getting on very well, Oceaxe. There are already buds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.”

The man’s expression did not change, but he replied in a strained voice, “I’m doing very well, Oceaxe. There are already buds on my feet. Tomorrow I hope to take root.”

Maskull felt a rising storm inside him. He was perfectly aware that although these words were uttered by Sature, they were being dictated by the boy.

Maskull felt a storm rising inside him. He knew perfectly well that although Sature spoke the words, the boy was dictating them.

“What he says is quite true,” remarked the latter. “Tomorrow roots will reach the ground, and in a few days they ought to be well established. Then I shall set to work to convert his arms into branches, and his fingers into leaves. It will take longer to transform his head into a crown, but still I hope—in fact I can almost promise that within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be plucking and enjoying fruit from this new and remarkable tree.”

“What he says is quite true,” said the latter. “Tomorrow, roots will reach the ground, and in a few days they should be well established. Then I’ll start turning his arms into branches and his fingers into leaves. Turning his head into a crown will take longer. But I hope, and can almost promise, that within a month you and I, Oceaxe, will be picking and enjoying fruit from this new and remarkable tree.”

“I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, putting out his hand for another plum. “They thrill me.”

“I love these natural experiments,” he concluded, reaching for another plum. “They thrill me.”

“This must be a joke,” said Maskull, taking a step forward.

The youth looked at him serenely. He made no reply, but Maskull felt as if he were being thrust backward by an iron hand on his throat.

The young man looked at him calmly. He said nothing, but Maskull felt as if an iron hand on his throat were pushing him backward.

“The morning’s work is now concluded, Sature. Come here again after Blodsombre. After tonight you will remain here permanently, I expect, so you had better set to work to clear a patch of ground for your roots. Never forget—however fresh and charming these plants appear to you now, in the future they will be your deadliest rivals and enemies. Now you may go.”

“The morning’s work is finished, Sature. Come back here after Blodsombre. I expect you’ll stay here permanently after tonight. So you’d better start clearing a patch of ground for your roots. Never forget that, however fresh and charming these plants seem to you now, they’ll be your deadliest rivals and enemies in the future. You may go now.”

The man limped painfully away, across the isthmus, out of sight. Oceaxe yawned.

The man limped painfully across the isthmus and out of sight. Oceaxe yawned.

Maskull pushed his way forward, as if against a wall. “Are you joking, or are you a devil?”

Maskull pushed forward as if he were pushing against a wall. “Are you joking, or are you a devil?”

“I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. For that epithet of yours, I will devise a new punishment for you.”

“I am Crimtyphon. I never joke. I will think of a new punishment for you for calling me that.”

The duel of wills commenced without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched her beautiful limbs, smiled, and prepared herself to witness the struggle between her old lover and her new. Crimtyphon smiled too; he reached out his hand for more fruit, but did not eat it. Maskull’s self-control broke down and he dashed at the boy, choking with red fury—his beard wagged and his face was crimson. When he realised with whom he had to deal, Crimtyphon left off smiling, slipped off the couch, and threw a terrible and malignant glare into his sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered together all the brute force of his will, and by sheer weight continued his advance. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died.

The battle of wills began without ceremony. Oceaxe got up, stretched her beautiful limbs, and smiled. She prepared to watch the struggle between her old lover and her new one. Crimtyphon smiled too. He reached for more fruit but did not eat it. Maskull lost his self-control and charged at the boy, choking with rage. His beard shook and his face was crimson. When Crimtyphon realized who he was dealing with, he stopped smiling and slipped off the couch. He sent a terrible, hateful glare into Maskull’s sorb. Maskull staggered. He gathered all the brute force of his will and continued forward by sheer force. The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to escape. His resistance suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, caught himself, and then leaped over the high pile of mosses to reach his opponent. He fell on the boy with all his weight. He grabbed Crimtyphon’s throat and twisted his little head completely around, breaking his neck. Crimtyphon died immediately.

The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull viewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder came into his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon’s face had undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal character had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask which expressed nothing.

The corpse lay under the tree, face up. Maskull studied it closely, and his own face filled with awe and wonder. At the moment of death, Crimtyphon’s face had changed in a startling, even shocking way. All trace of his individual character had vanished. In its place was a vulgar, grinning mask that expressed nothing.

He did not have to search his mind long, to remember where he had seen the brother of that expression. It was identical with that on the face of the apparition at the séance, after Krag had dealt with it.

He quickly remembered where he had seen the same expression before. It was identical to the expression on the apparition’s face at the séance, after Krag had dealt with it.