A Voyage to Arcturus by David Lindsay (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📖

Growing tired, apparently, of his scrutiny, she pushed him a little way and allowed her arm to drop, at the same time curving her mouth into a long, bowlike smile. “Whom have I to thank for this gift of life?”

Her voice was rich, slow, and odd. Maskull felt himself in a dream.

“My name is Maskull.”

She motioned to him to come a step nearer. “Listen, Maskull. Man after man has drawn me into the world, but they could not keep me there, for I did not wish it. But now you have drawn me into it for all time, for good or evil.”

Maskull stretched a hand toward the now invisible corpse, and said quietly, “What have you to say about him?”

“Who was it?”

“Haunte.”

“So that was Haunte. The news will travel far and wide. He was a famous man.”

“It’s a horrible affair. I can’t think that you killed him deliberately.”

“We women are endowed with terrible power, but it is our only protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them.”

“I might have died, too.”

“You came together?”

“There were three of us. Corpang still stands over there.”

“I see a faintly glimmering form. What do you want of me, Corpang?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go away, and leave me with Maskull.”

“No need, Corpang. I am coming with you.”

“This is not that pleasure, then?” demanded the low, earnest voice, out of the darkness.

“No, that pleasure has not returned.”

Sullenbode gripped his arm hard. “What pleasure are you speaking of?”

“A presentiment of love, which I felt not long ago.”

“But what do you feel now?”

“Calm and free.”

Sullenbode’s face seemed like a pallid mask, hiding a slow, swelling sea of elemental passions. “I do not know how it will end, Maskull, but we will still keep together a little. Where are you going?”

“To Adage,” said Corpang, stepping forward.

“But why?”

“We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to find Muspel-light.”

“What light is that?”

“It’s the light of another world.”

“The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?”

“On one condition,” said Corpang. “They must forget their sex. Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life.”

“I give you all other men,” said Sullenbode. “Maskull is mine.”

“No. I am not here to help Maskull to a lover but to remind him of the existence of nobler things.”

“You are a good man. But you two alone will never strike the road to Adage.”

“Are you acquainted with it?”

Again the woman gripped Maskull’s arm. “What is love—which Corpang despises?”

Maskull looked at her attentively. Sullenbode went on, “Love is that which is perfectly willing to disappear and become nothing, for the sake of the beloved.”

Corpang wrinkled his forehead. “A magnanimous female lover is new in my experience.”

Maskull put him aside with his hand, and said to Sullenbode, “Are you contemplating a sacrifice?”

She gazed at her feet, and smiled. “What does it matter what my thoughts are? Tell me, are you starting at once, or do you mean to rest first? It’s a rough road to Adage.”

“What’s in your mind?” demanded Maskull.

“I will guide you a little. When we reach the ridge between Sarclash and Adage, perhaps I shall turn back.”

“And then?”

“Then if the moon shines perhaps you will arrive before daybreak, but if it is dark it’s hardly likely.”

“That’s not what I meant. What will become of you after we have parted company?”

“I shall return somewhere—perhaps here.”

Maskull went close up to her, in order to study her face better. “Shall you sink back into—the old state?”

“No, Maskull, thank heaven.”

“Then how will you live?”

Sullenbode calmly removed the hand which he had placed on her arm. There was a sort of swirling flame in her eyes. “And who said I would go on living?”

Maskull blinked at her in bewilderment. A few moments passed before he spoke again. “You women are a sacrificing lot. You know I can’t leave you like this.”

Their eyes met. Neither withdrew them, and neither felt embarrassed.

“You will always be the most generous of men, Maskull. Now let us go.... Corpang is a single-minded personage, and the least we others—who aren’t so single-minded—can do is to help him to his destination. We mustn’t inquire whether the destination of single-minded men is as a rule worth arriving at.”

“If it is good for Maskull, it will be good for me.”

“Well, no vessel can hold more than its appointed measure.”

Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have picked up wisdom.”

“Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.”

As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte.

“Can we not bury that poor fellow?”

“By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not include Corpang.”

“We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.”

“Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” They left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an alluring girl and a half-infatuated