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

highest, and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire is not the highest.”

Corpang’s face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. “Life is clearly false—I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I find—this.”

“You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had eternity to practice his cunning in, so it’s no wonder if a man can’t see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?”

“The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?”

“Yes.”

“But where will it take us?”

“Perhaps out of Threal altogether.”

“It sounds to me more real than reality,” said Corpang. “Tell me, who is Surtur?”

“Surtur’s world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is other than life.”

“How do you know this?”

“It has sprung together somehow—from inspiration, from experience, from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape.”

Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. “I believe you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming with you—but don’t play the traitor. These signs may be for you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me—”

“I make no promises. I don’t ask you to come with me. If you prefer to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you had better not come.”

“Don’t talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me... Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound.”

Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along the ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical beats continued, but a very long way ahead—neither was able to diminish the distance.

“What kind of man are you?” Corpang suddenly broke out.

“In what respect?”

“How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it that I’ve never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to me?”

“To hear voices perhaps can’t be made a profession,” replied Maskull. “I have a simple and unoccupied mind—that may be why I sometimes hear things that up to the present you have not been able to.”

Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his pride.

The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a bridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of precipices immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along the base of these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large cave the sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps inward.

“This leads to the outer world,” remarked Corpang. “I’ve occasionally been there by this passage.”

“Then that’s where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan’t be sorry to see sunlight once more.”

“Can you find time to think of sunlight?” asked Corpang with a rough smile.

“I love the sun, and perhaps I’m rather lacking in the spirit of a zealot.”

“Yet, for all that, you may get there before me.”

“Don’t be bitter,” said Maskull. “I’ll tell you another thing. Muspel can’t be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not concern the will. To will is a property of this world.”

“Then what is your journey for?”

“It’s one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the walk, and quite another to run there at top speed.”

“Perhaps I’m not so easily deceived as you think,” said Corpang with another smile.

The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the confined dreams of his childhood.

Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the last stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a hillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang followed closely at his heels. He was obliged to shield his eyes with his hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell’s blinding rays.

“The drum beats have stopped!” he exclaimed suddenly.

“You can’t expect music all the time,” answered Maskull dryly. “We mustn’t be luxurious.”

“But now we have no guide. We’re no better off than before.”

“Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north.”

“That will take us to Lichstorm.”

Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. “I saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they did then, and there’s not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm from here?”

Corpang looked away to the distant range. “I don’t know, but unless a miracle happens we shan’t get there tonight.”

“I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life.”

And he sat down passively to rest.