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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I fancy you are right, for though I know nothing about him his mere name has an exciting effect on me.... Are you personally acquainted with him?" "I must be... I forget..." replied Nightspore in a choking voice. Maskull looked up, surprised, but could make nothing out in the blackness of the room.
"The journey has to be made," answered his friend in indistinct tones, "though I don't see what will come of it." Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. "More remarkable adventures than this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore." "Yet he is coming." "But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company."
When he rejoined his friend, Nightspore reported that the workshop was also locked. "Did we, or did we not, receive an invitation?" demanded Maskull energetically. "The house is empty," replied Nightspore, biting his nails. "Better break a window." "I certainly don't mean to camp out till Krag condescends to come."
He now made out on the larger bottle the words "Solar Back Rays"; and on the other one, after some doubt, he thought that he could distinguish something like "Arcturian Back Rays." He looked up, to stare curiously at his friend. "Have you been here before, Nightspore?" "I guessed Krag would leave a message."
"It was supernatural," said Nightspore, in a harsh, muffled voice, turning away from his questioner. "I guessed so. It is a familiar phenomenon, but I have never heard it so loud." He then went among the guests, reassuring them. By degrees they settled down, but it was observable that their former easy and good-humoured interest in the proceedings was now changed to strained watchfulness.
"It looks like an obstacle, for Nightspore informs me that the start takes place from the top." "But your other doubts are all removed?" "So far, Krag, that I now possess an open mind. I am quite willing to see what you can do." "Nothing more is asked.... But this tower business. You know that until you are able to climb to the top you are unfit to stand the gravitation of Tormance?"
On descending the other side of the little hills, Maskull looked anxiously for traces of Nightspore and Krag, but without result. After staring about him for a few minutes he shrugged his shoulders; but suspicions had already begun to gather in his mind. A small, natural amphitheatre lay at their feet, completely circled by the tree-clad heights. The centre was of red sand.
What had been fiery spirit but a moment ago was now a disgusting mass of crawling, wriggling individuals, each whirl of pleasure-seeking will having, as nucleus, a fragmentary spark of living green fire. Nightspore recollected the back rays of Starkness, and it flashed across him with the certainty of truth that the green sparks were the back rays, and the whirls the forward rays, of Muspel.
Krag bent over him with a grave expression. "You are Nightspore." The dying man closed his eyes, and smiled. Opening them again, a few moments later, with an effort, he murmured, "Who are you?" Krag maintained a gloomy silence. Shortly afterward a frightful pang passed through Maskull's heart, and he died immediately. Krag turned his head around.
"Well, I don't know it may be a message, but it means nothing to us, or at all events to me. What are 'back rays'?" "Light that goes back to its source," muttered Nightspore. "And what kind of light would that be?"
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