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The child was let down, and all the three formed a semicircle in front of Maskull, standing staring up at him with wide-open eyes. Polecrab looked on stolidly, but Gleameil glanced away from them, with proudly raised head and a baffling expression. Maskull put the ages of the boys at about nine, seven, and five years, respectively; but he was calculating according to Earth time.
"Now that it's all arranged so satisfactorily," said Maskull, with a hard smile, "permit me to say that I don't desire any society at all at present.... You take too much for granted, Krag. You have played the false friend once already.... I presume I'm a free agent?" "To be a free man, one must have a universe of one's own," said Krag, with a jeering look.
A trifork, similar to the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in the mud close by his hand. They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out of the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so. "This is not Maulger, but Catice," said Spadevil.
Before they had time to realise their position, they were in the sunlight. The upheaval still continued. In another minute or two the valley floor had formed a new mountain, a hundred feet or more higher than the old. Then its movement ceased suddenly. Every noise stopped, as if by magic; not a rock moved. Oceaxe and Maskull picked themselves up and examined themselves for cuts and bruises.
"You have repaid me well for my answers," said the old man gruffly. "But it's not your fault, and in Shaping's world the worst things happen." The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. "Farewell, big man!" he said. "But guard my mother well, as well as you are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you." Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend.
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.
"Welcome to Barey, Maskull! Let's hope you'll forget your sorrows here, you over-tested man." Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. "What made you expect me, and how do you know my name?" The stranger smiled, which made his face very handsome. "I'm Gangnet. I know most things."
"Don't you understand, Maskull, that you are only an instrument, to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when he wakes you must die. You will go, but he will return." Maskull hastily struck another match, with trembling fingers. No one was in sight, and all was quiet as the tomb. The voice did not sound again. After waiting a few minutes, he redescended to the foot of the tower.
She suddenly broke into a laugh, so rich, sweet, and enchanting, that he grew half inflamed, and half wished to catch her body in his arms. "Oh, Maskull, Maskull what a fool you are!" "In what way am I a fool?" he demanded, scowling not at her words, but at his own weakness. "Isn't the whole world the handiwork of innumerable pairs of lovers? And yet you think yourself above all that.
The only distinction is that their productions are more human and intelligible." "Nothing comes from it but vanity," said Panawe, and, taking the crystal out of Maskull's hand, he threw it into the lake. The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself.
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