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Each leg in turn moved to the front, and so the little monstrosity proceeded by means of a series of complete rotations. It was vividly coloured, as though it had been dipped into pots of bright blue and yellow paint. It looked up with small, shining eyes, as they passed. Joiwind nodded and smiled to it. "That's a personal friend of mine, Maskull. Whenever I come this way, I see it.
"It is very difficult.... Your God is a dreadful Being bodyless, unfriendly, invisible. Here we don't worship a God like that. Tell me, has any man set eyes on your God?" "What does all this mean, Joiwind? Why speak of God?" "I want to know." "In ancient times, when the earth was young and grand, a few holy men are reputed to have walked and spoken with God, but those days are past."
She twined her magn lovingly around his waist, and a strong current of confidence and well-being instantly coursed through his veins. "Thanks, Joiwind! But am I not weakening you?" "Yes," she replied, with a quick, thrilling glance. "But not much and it gives me great happiness." Presently they met a fantastic little creature, the size of a new-born lamb, waltzing along on three legs.
"It's odd," said Maskull. "I came here with quite different ideas about Crystalman." Joiwind shook her hair. "In that grove of trees over there stands a desert shrine of his. Let us go and pray there, and then we'll go on our way to Poolingdred. That is my home. It's a long way off, and we must get there before Blodsombre." "Now, what is Blodsombre?"
"Yes, every time I realise that, I Tell me, Joiwind, will my blood alter, if I stay here long enough? I mean, will it lose its redness and thickness, and become pure and thin and light-coloured, like yours?" "Why not? If you live as we live, you will assuredly grow like us." "Do you mean food and drink?" "We eat no food, and drink only water." "And on that you manage to sustain life?"
The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and unbelievable the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear. He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down on the opposite side.
The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband tended her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was distressed. Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him.
The desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions, except one, where there was a sort of little oasis some low hills, clothed sparsely with little purple trees from base to summit. It was about a quarter of a mile distant. Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace of nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm. Maskull expostulated.
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