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Craning his neck back, he stared upward and tried to discover the points of the compass from the direction of the sunlight, but it was impossible. While he was standing there, anxious and hesitating, he heard the drum taps. The rhythmical beats proceeded from some distance off. The unseen drummer seemed to be marching through the forest, away from him. "Surtur!" he said, under his breath.
But audacious projects entered his brain and he willed to create physical shapes and, above all, one shape, that of Surtur. Before putting his foot to the water, he turned things over a little in his mind. He said, "What themes are in common music, shapes are in this music. The composer does not find his theme by picking out single notes; but the whole theme flashes into his mind by inspiration.
Crystalman has had eternity to practice his cunning in, so it's no wonder if a man can't see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?" "The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?" "Yes." "But where will it take us?" "Perhaps out of Threal altogether." "It sounds to me more real than reality," said Corpang. "Tell me, who is Surtur?"
It appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where they were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull's heart beat quickly. "What can that sound be?" asked Corpang, peering into the obscurity. "It is Surtur." "Once again, who is Surtur?" Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance was in the air, in the direction of the drumming.
"From the old observatory at Starkness.... Have you heard of the famous Starkness Observatory, Maskull?" "No. Where is it?" "On the north-east coast of Scotland. Curious discoveries are made there from time to time." "As, for example, how to make voyages to the stars. So this Surtur turns out to be an astronomer. And you too, presumably?" Krag grinned again.
One of them at least must be a bad man, and yet if he is following Surtur or Shaping, as he is called here he can't be really bad." "What do you know of Surtur?" asked Maskull in astonishment. Joiwind remained silent for a time, studying his face. His brain moved restlessly, as though it were being probed from outside. "I see.... and yet I don't see," she said at last.
And Odin knew that the world must not be left between Surtur, who would destroy it with fire, and Niflheim, that would gather it back to Darkness and Nothingness. He, the eldest of the Gods, would have to win the wisdom that would help to save the world. And so, with his face stern in front of his loss and pain, Odin All-Father turned and went toward Mimir's Well.
Baldur and Hödur came from Hela's habitation, and the Gods sat on the peak together and held speech with each other, calling to mind the secrets and the happenings they had known before Ragnarök, the Twilight of the Gods. Deep in a wood two of human kind were left; the fire of Surtur did not touch them; they slept, and when they wakened the world was green and beautiful again.
Still, they were somehow different, and they certainly came from Surtur. If I didn't hear them correctly, that was my fault and not his." Polecrab growled a little. "If Surtur chooses to speak to you in that fashion, it appears he's trying to say something." "What else can I think? But, Polecrab, what's your opinion is he calling me to the life after death?" The old man stirred uneasily.
"At one time I did, but now I'm indifferent." "Keep in that humour, and you'll do well. Once for all, there's nothing worth seeing on Tormance." After a few minutes Maskull said, "Why did we come here, then?" "To follow Surtur." "True. But where is he?" "Closer at hand than you think, perhaps."
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