A Voyage to Arcturus, David Lindsay [book recommendations for teens TXT] 📗

within. The face was beardless, but the hair of the head was as long as a woman’s, and, dressed in a single plait, fell down behind as far as the ankles. Ae possessed only two eyes. That part of the turban which went across the forehead protruded so far in front that it evidently concealed some organ.

Maskull found it impossible to compute aer age. The frame appeared active, vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes were powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless, the longer Maskull gazed, the more an impression of unbelievable ancientness came upon him—aer real youth seemed as far away as the view observed through a reversed telescope.

At last he addressed the stranger, though it was just as if he were conversing with a dream. “To what sex do you belong?” he asked.

The voice in which the reply came was neither manly nor womanly, but was oddly suggestive of a mystical forest horn, heard from a great distance.

“Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world was peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only survivor of all those beings who were then passing through Faceny’s mind.”

“Faceny?”

“Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names invented by a race of superficial creatures.”

“What’s your own name?”

“Leehallfae.”

“What?”

“Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have just come through some wonderful adventures. You seem to possess extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, perhaps I can make use of it.”

“Do you think that my luck exists for your benefit?... But never mind that now. It is your sex that interests me. How do you satisfy your desires?”

Leehallfae pointed to the concealed organ on her brow. “With that I gather life from the streams that flow in all the hundred Matterplay valleys. The streams spring direct from Faceny. My whole life has been spent trying to find Faceny himself. I’ve hunted so long that if I were to state the number of years you would believe I lied.”

Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else from Matterplay—a young man called Digrung. I absorbed him.”

“You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.”

“It was a fearful crime. What will come of it?”

Leehallfae gave a curious, wrinkled smile. “In Matterplay he will stir inside you, for he smells the air. Already you have his eyes.... I knew him.... Take care of yourself, or something more startling may happen. Keep out of the water.”

“This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.”

“Don’t torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by right to the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to remove them.”

Maskull continued thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?”

“Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be strong enough to serve me. Together we will search for Threal.”

“Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?”

“I have told you that my whole life has been spent in the quest.”

“You said Faceny, Leehallfae.”

The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again. “This stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay, has its source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from Threal, it is in Threal that we must look for Faceny.”

“But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s a well-known country?”

“It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.”

“Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have found Faceny, what do you gain?”

Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the scents and traces of whose person were always present. This passion stamped aer features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual beauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man.

But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast showed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but vulgar—it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims with untiring persistence.

He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any case I shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as yourself.”

“But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different creations. A phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman. Faceny may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not feel this?”

“I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions I can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the phaen’s thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not forgetting your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and finish it as Digrung.”

The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a long time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream.

Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull, or what is the matter?”

“Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, if anyone does. What is Muspel?”

The phaen’s face was blank. “I don’t know the name.”

“It is another world