A Voyage to Arcturus Part 29

As he stared at the object, a strange, sudden flush of confident vanity and self-sufficiency seemed to pa.s.s through him, but it was so momentary that he could be sure of nothing.

"What may that be, Tydomin?"

"It is Hator's Trifork."

"And what is its purpose?"

"It's a guide to Sant."

"But who or what is Hator?"

"Hator was the founder of Sant--many thousands of years ago. He laid down the principles they all live by, and that trifork is his symbol.

When I was a little child my father told me the legends, but I've forgotten most of them."

Maskull regarded it attentively.

"Does it affect you in any way?"

"And why should it do that?" she said, dropping her lip scornfully. "I am only a woman, and these are masculine mysteries."

"A sort of gladness came over me," said Maskull, "but perhaps I am mistaken."

They pa.s.sed on. The scenery gradually changed in character. The solid parts of the land grew more continuous, the fissures became narrower and more infrequent. There were now no more subsidences or upheavals. The peculiar nature of the Ifdawn Marest appeared to be giving place to a different order of things.

Later on, they encountered a flock of pale blue jellies floating in the air. They were miniature animals. Tydomin caught one in her hand and began to eat it, just as one eats a luscious pear plucked from a tree.

Maskull, who had fasted since early morning, was not slow in following her example. A sort of electric vigour at once entered his limbs and body, his muscles regained their elasticity, his heart began to beat with hard, slow, strong throbs.

"Food and body seem to agree well in this world," he remarked smiling.

She glanced toward him. "Perhaps the explanation is not in the food, but in your body."

"I brought my body with me."

"You brought your soul with you, but that's altering fast, too."

In a copse they came across a short, wide tree, without leaves, but possessing a mult.i.tude of thin, flexible branches, like the tentacles of a cuttlefish. Some of these branches were moving rapidly. A furry animal, somewhat resembling a wildcat, leaped about among them in the most extraordinary way. But the next minute Maskull was shocked to realise that the beast was not leaping at all, but was being thrown from branch to branch by the volition of the tree, exactly as an imprisoned mouse is thrown by a cat from paw to paw.

He watched the spectacle a while with morbid interest.

"That's a gruesome reversal of roles, Tydomin."

"One can see you're disgusted," she replied, stifling a yawn. "But that is because you are a slave to words. If you called that plant an animal, you would find its occupation perfectly natural and pleasing. And why should you not call it an animal?"

"I am quite aware that, as long as I remain in the Ifdawn Marest, I shall go on listening to this sort of language."

They trudged along for an hour or more without talking. The day became overcast. A thin mist began to shroud the landscape, and the sun changed into an immense ruddy disk which could be stared at without flinching. A chill, damp wind blew against them. Presently it grew still darker, the sun disappeared and, glancing first at his companion and then at himself, Maskull noticed that their skin and clothing were coated by a kind of green h.o.a.rfrost.

The land was now completely solid. About half a mile, in front of them, against a background of dark fog, a moving forest of tall waterspouts gyrated slowly and gracefully hither and thither. They were green and self-luminous, and looked terrifying. Tydomin explained that they were not waterspouts at all, but mobile columns of lightning.

"Then they are dangerous?"

"So we think," she answered, watching them closely.

"Someone is wandering there who appears to have a different opinion."

Among the spouts, and entirely encompa.s.sed by them, a man was walking with a slow, calm, composed gait, his back turned toward Maskull and Tydomin. There was something unusual in his appearance--his form looked extraordinarily distinct, solid, and real.

"If there's danger, he ought to be warned," said Maskull.

"He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing," returned the woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the arm, and continued to watch.

The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, but turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He seemed to be addressing the columns.

While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He dropped his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood still, waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person grew more and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be composed of some substance heavier and denser than solid matter.

Tydomin looked perplexed.

"He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. This is a day of days for me."

"He must be an individual of great importance," murmured Maskull.

They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the wind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron. There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were two flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes were expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stem eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was middle-aged.

His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin's person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening fire began running through his veins.

He turned to the woman. "If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time."

"Let Tydomin come too."

The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English.

"You who know my name, also know my s.e.x," said Tydomin quietly. "It is death for me to enter Sant."

"That is the old law. I am the bearer of the new law."

"Is it so--and will it be accepted?"

"The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived."

The storm gathered. The green snow drove against them, as they stood talking, and it grew intensely cold. None noticed it.

"What is your name?" asked Maskull, with a beating heart.

"My name, Maskull, is Spadevil. You, a voyager across the dark ocean of s.p.a.ce, shall be my first witness and follower. You, Tydomin, a daughter of the despised s.e.x, shall be my second."

"The new law? But what is it?"

"Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear?.... Come, both of you, to me!"