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I can't say if I am really speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my thoughts into your tongue as I utter them." "Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am," said Joiwind gaily. "What is your name?" asked the husband. "Maskull." "That name must have a meaning but again, thought is a strange thing. I connect that name with something but with what?"
"Try to discover," said Joiwind. "Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?" "There is such a myth, The hero's name was Prometheus." "Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action but what it all means I can't say, Maskull."
To prevent Joiwind from learning his relationship to this being, he made his mind a blank. "Why do you hide your mind from me?" she demanded, looking at him strangely and changing colour. "In this bright, pure, radiant world, evil seems so remote, one can scarcely grasp its meaning." But he lied. Joiwind continued gazing at him, straight out of her clean soul.
He kept biting his nails, as he turned his eyes in that direction wondering if it would not be possible to conquer the heights that evening. But when he glanced back again at Poolingdred, he remembered Joiwind and Panawe, and grew more tranquil. He decided to make his bed at this spot, and to set off as soon after daybreak as he should awake.
They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am here, and I must make the best of it, I will trouble no more about them." "I don't wish to speak ill of anyone," said Joiwind, "but my instinct tells me that you are better away from those men. They did not come here for your sake, but for their own." They walked on for a long time. Maskull was beginning to feel faint.
"Adieu, then, Panawe! But do you wish to say anything more to me?" "Only this, Maskull wherever you go, help to make the world beautiful, and not ugly." "That's more than any of us can undertake. I am a simple man, and have no ambitions in the way of beautifying life But tell Joiwind I will try to keep myself pure." They parted rather coldly.
"Our world is still young," said Joiwind. "Shaping goes among us and converses with us. He is real and active a friend and lover. Shaping made us, and he loves his work." "Have you met him?" demanded Maskull, hardly believing his ears. "No. I have done nothing to deserve it yet. Some day I may have an opportunity to sacrifice myself, and then I may be rewarded by meeting and talking with Shaping."
"Will you think it foolish if I say I hardly know? I came with those two men. Perhaps I was attracted by curiosity, or perhaps it was the love of adventure." "Perhaps," said Joiwind. "I wonder... These friends of yours must be terrible men. Why did they come?" "That I can tell you. They came to follow Surtur." Her face grew troubled. "I don't understand it.
Some uncanny, semi-intelligent instinct was keeping all the plants together, moving at one pace, in one direction, like a flock of migrating birds in flight. Another remarkable plant was a large, feathery ball, resembling a dandelion fruit, which they encountered sailing through the air. Joiwind caught it with an exceedingly graceful movement of her arm, and showed it to Maskull.
In the very middle shot up a tall, stately tree, with a black trunk and branches, and transparent, crystal leaves. At the foot of this tree was a natural, circular well, containing dark green water. When they had reached the bottom, Joiwind took him straight over to the well. Maskull gazed at it intently. "Is this the shrine you talked about?" "Yes. It is called Shaping's Well.
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