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Updated: June 25, 2025
He passed through the open gate, followed by Nightspore, and knocked vigorously at the front door. The knocker was thick with dust and had obviously not been used for a long time. He put his ear to the door, but could hear no movements inside the house. He then tried the handle; the door was looked. They walked around the house, looking for another entrance, but there was only the one door.
If this affair isn't one big practical joke, it has every promise of being one. Krag never lived here in his life." "Come upstairs first," said Nightspore. The upstairs rooms proved to consist of a library and three bedrooms. All the windows were tightly closed, and the air was insufferable. The beds had been slept in, evidently a long time ago, and had never been made since.
The instant the direct movement wearied them, as contrary to their whirling nature, they fell again to killing, dancing, and loving. Nightspore had a foreknowledge that the sixth window would prove to be the last. Nothing would have kept him from ascending to it, for he guessed that the nature of Crystalman himself would there become manifest.
"And why not the tower? He's probably in there, since the gate is open. I'm going up to look." Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition. All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone steps. "Are you coming up?" he asked. "No, I'll wait here." Maskull immediately began the ascent.
"You may be the stronger, but he is the mightier." "I am the stronger and the mightier. Crystalman's Empire is but a shadow on the face of Muspel. But nothing will be done without the bloodiest blows.... What do you mean to do?" Nightspore looked at him strangely. "Are you not Surtur, Krag?" "Yes." "Yes," said Nightspore in a slow voice, without surprise. "But what is your name on Earth?"
Walking over to Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair. "Still the same old gnawing hunger?" "What is doing these days?" demanded Nightspore disdainfully, without altering his attitude. "Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him." "How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you speaking?" asked Maskull, looking from one to the other in perplexity.
"Krag's chief," said Nightspore, turning his head away. "The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up." "You are looking for mysteries," said Krag, "so naturally you are finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. The affair is plain and serious." Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. "Where have you come from now?" demanded Nightspore suddenly.
"I heard a voice up those stairs." "What did it say?" "That I am to go, but Nightspore is to return." Krag smiled. "The journey is getting notorious," he remarked, after a pause. "There must be ill-wishers about.... Well, do you want to return?" "I don't know what I want. But I thought the thing was curious enough to be mentioned."
On the other side of the apartment another short flight of stairs mounted through a trap, apparently to the roof of the building. Before ascending these stairs, Nightspore hastened to the window and stared out. The shadow form of Crystalman had drawn much closer to him, and filled the whole sky, but it was not a shadow of darkness, but a bright shadow.
The beats were in no way drowned by the far louder sound of the surf, but seemed somehow to belong to a different world.... When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. "We came here solely to hear that?" Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. "It's called locally 'The Drum Taps of Sorgie. You will not hear that name again, but perhaps you will hear the sound again."
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