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The heights and the chasms of that dread land made his spirits mount up like fire. He saw the whirlpools and the smoking mountains and had joy of these sights. Higher and higher he soared until, looking toward the South, he saw the flaming land of Muspelheim. Higher and higher still he soared. With his falcon's eyes he saw the gleam of Surtur's flaming sword.
"I'm a fisherman," he said, after a minute or two. "I live by killing, and so does everybody. This life seems to me all wrong. So maybe life of any kind is wrong, and Surtur's world is not life at all, but something else." "Yes, but will death lead me to it, whatever it is?" "Ask the dead," said Polecrab, "and not a living man." Maskull continued.
But God grant, also, that if that day does come, then may come true also what that wise Vala sang, of the day when gods, and men, and earth should be burnt up with fire. When slaked Surtur's flame is, Still the man and the maiden, Hight Valour and Life, Shall keep themselves hid In the wood of remembrance. The dew of the dawning For food it shall serve them: From them spring new peoples.
He whispered of a heaven above Asgard that Surtur's flames might not reach, and of a life that would come to beauty again after the World of Men and the World of the Gods had been searched through and through with fire. The crow went flying toward the North, croaking as she flew, "Let Hela keep what she holds. Let Hela keep what she holds."
He stood fast. "You have changed quickly, Maskull." Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. "Why do men go on living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?" "Pain is the native air of Surtur's children. To what other air do you wish to escape?" "Surtur's children? Is not Surtur Shaping?" "It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping's masterpiece."
The hour was come when earth and sky were to burst, the stars to fall, and all things to be swallowed up in Surtur's sea of fire; but she knew that there would be a new heaven and a new earth, that the corn fields then would wave where now the ocean rolled over the desolate tracts of sand, and that the unutterable God would reign; and up to Him rose Bulder the gentle, the affectionate, delivered from the kingdom of the dead; he came; the Viking woman saw him, and recognized his countenance; it was that of the captive Christian priest.
He opened his eyes. The floating island was still faintly illuminated by Alppain. Krag was standing by his side, but Gangnet was no longer there. "What is this Ocean called?" asked Maskull, bringing out the words with difficulty. "Surtur's Ocean." Maskull nodded, and kept quiet for some time. He rested his face on his arm. "Where's Nightspore?" he asked suddenly.
Looking up at the vault of the sky, he saw the whole expanse of vision filled by Surtur's form not as a concrete man, but as a vast, concave cloud image, looking down and frowning at him. Then the spectacle vanished, as a light goes out. Maskull stood inactive, with a thumping heart. Now he again heard the solitary trumpet note.
From the broken end of the Rainbow Bridge the riders came, all flashing and flaming, with fire before them and after them. Niörd was there with Skadi, his Giant wife, fierce in her war-dress; Freya was there also, and Frey had Gerda beside him as a battle-maiden. Terribly bright flashed Surtur's sword. No sword ever owned was as bright as his except the sword that Frey had given to Skirnir.
For the same reason that you have now been able to mount the stairs, there was no necessity to stop and gape at illusions en route." "Very well," said Maskull, not quite understanding what he meant. "But is this Surtur's den?" "He has spent time here." "I wish you would describe this mysterious individual, Krag. We may not get another chance."
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