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Updated: May 9, 2025
He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but... Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to pick up Crimtyphon's corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung's dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask. "Why hasn't he altered?" he muttered to himself. Tydomin heard him.
You always hated me, and now you think it an excellent opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon's gone.... For we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had asked him. He worshiped me, but he laughed at you. He thought you ugly." Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull. "Is it necessary for you to listen to all this?"
Miles away, in the north-east quarter, a long, flat-topped plateau raised its head far above all the surrounding country. It was Sant and there and then he made up his mind that that should be his destination that day. Tydomin meanwhile had walked straight to the gulf, and set down Crimtyphon's body on the edge.
In a few minutes' time Maskull got up of his own accord, and irreverently, and almost angrily, threw Crimtyphon's corpse over his shoulder again. "How far do we have to go?" he asked in a surly tone. "An hour's walk." "Lead on." "Still, this isn't the sacrifice I mean," said Tydomin quietly, as she went on in front. Almost immediately they reached more difficult ground.
"Hadn't I cause?" she asked, standing with downcast eyes. "Was it pure fiendishness?" "It was for Crimtyphon's sake." "She had nothing to do with that death. I told you so." "You are loyal to her, and I'm loyal to him." "Loyal? You've made a terrible blunder. She wasn't my mistress. I killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason. She had absolutely no part in it."
When she perceived Maskull, she hastily kissed the withered lips, and got up from her knees. Lifting the corpse with all three arms, she staggered with it to the extreme edge of the gulf and, after an instant's hesitation, allowed it to drop into the lava. It disappeared immediately without sound; a metallic splash came up. That was Crimtyphon's funeral. "Now I am ready, Maskull."
They walked over to Crimtyphon's body, and Maskull hoisted it on to his shoulders. It weighed heavier than he had thought. Tydomin did not offer to assist him to adjust the ghastly burden. She crossed the isthmus, followed by Maskull. Their path lay through sunshine and shadow.
The corpse lay underneath the tree with its face upturned. Maskull viewed it attentively, and as he did so an expression of awe and wonder came into his own countenance. In the moment of death Crimtyphon's face had undergone a startling and even shocking alteration. Its personal character had wholly vanished, giving place to a vulgar, grinning mask which expressed nothing.
"Just because Crimtyphon's sports are strange to you, you murder him and you would like to murder me." "Sports! That diabolical cruelty." "Oh, you're sentimental!" said Oceaxe contemptuously. "Why do you need to make such a fuss over that man? Life is life, all the world over, and one form is as good as another. He was only to be made a tree, like a million other trees.
Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, "Will you come with me now to Disscourn?" "If you wish," returned Maskull. "Go first, Oceaxe. I must question your friend about Crimtyphon's death. I won't keep him." "Why don't you question me, rather?" demanded Oceaxe, looking up sharply. Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile. "We know each other too well." "Play no tricks!" said Oceaxe, and she turned to go.
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