And I went four hours across the Land, and did pass in this place and
that, fire-holes that made a little red-shining in the night; and
because of the fires in those far parts and a-near, there was not an
utter dark. And when I was gone four hours towards the Pyramid, I could no more see
the distant shinings, for the bulk of the hill-bottom stood up between,
and made all a blackness that way. And by this thing, I did guess that I
was come nigh unto the hill; but yet was a great hour more before that I
came to it. And in that five hours, since I was come down from the great
Volcano, there had past me thrice and again, the sounds of things
running in the night, and once there did be a sound as of a giant
roaring afar, and a strange and horrid screaming. Now I began to go up the hill. And, at the first, an utter excitement
took me in the heart; so that I could have shouted the name of the Maid
aloud in the night, with vain hopings that she should hear me and make
an answer. But this state went from me very swift, as I did go upward,
and there came a caution again about me, and a coldness of fear, as that
my spirit did wot of something that my heart did not perceive. And, presently, I was come upward almost to the top of the hill, the
which took me nigh three hours. And surely, when I was come that I could
see the grimness of the Pyramid, going upward very desolate and silent
into the night, lo! an utter shaking fear did take me; for the sweet
cunning of my spirit did know that there abode no human in all that
great and dark bulk; but that there did await me there, monstrous and
horrid things that should bring destruction upon my soul. And I went
downward of the hill, very quiet in the darkness; and so in the end,
away from that place. And I was four great hours before that I was come clear away from the
hill, and I did feel that there was not any safety for my spirit in all
that Land. And surely I went a little blindly, in the first, and did go
with no heed unto my way. And presently, I was upon the shore of the olden sea, and had no knowing
how that I was come there; for, surely, I did think it to be a great way
off. But now I do think that the dry bed of the sea did curve around
unto that place, or that there did be two, or more, olden seas in that
Country of Night. Now, presently, I sat me down, very weak and bewildered; for it was as
that my heart did lie dead within me. And, in verity, you shall perceive
how this thing was, for I did know by the tellings of my spirit that
there abode evil things in the dark Pyramid upon the hill; and I doubted
not but that destruction had come upon the Peoples of the Lesser
Pyramid, and that evil creatures and Powers did now abide in that place. And if this thing did be truly so, I was come over-late to the saving of
the Maid; and with this thought I was very glad that some evil thing
should come that I should fight with it and die quickly; for there was
naught then in all the world to make me glad to have life. And so shall you know the utter desolation that was in my heart; and,
truly, I can perceive both the wiseness and the unwisdom of my
reasonings; for, indeed, I did have no _sure_ knowing that the dark
Pyramid did be truly the Lesser Refuge. But yet, in verity, my spirit
did know with a certain sureness, and there was no doubt concerning this
thing, in all my being. And, after that I had sat there awhile, I did mind me suddenly that I
should send the Master-Word through the night; for, indeed, how else
might I ever know whether Naani did yet live; though, in truth, I had
little, save desperate hope in this matter; but yet did remember how
that I had seemed odd times of my journey to hear the beat of the
Master-Word with my spirit, out of all the dark of the world. And, in
verity, if Naani answered not to the Word, but there came instead an
Evil Power to destroy me, I should but cease me of mine utter
heart-ache. And I stood me upon my feet, and looked outward about me into the
blackness of that Land. And I sent the Master-Word with my
brain-elements; and immediately I called Naani, thrice, sending the call
with my brain-elements. And lo! in a moment, as it did seem, there broke around me out of all
the mystery of night, low and solemn, the Master-Word, beating in the
night. And immediately there did sound within my brain a far, small
voice, very lone and faint, as that it had come from the end of the
world. And the voice was the voice of Naani and the voice of Mirdath,
and did call me by mine olden love-name. Then, indeed, I did near to choke with the utter affright of joy that
did take me in the heart, and also I was shaken with a mighty
excitement, and my despair was gone, as that I had never known it. For,
in verity, Naani did live and did call unto me with her brain-elements;
and surely I had not heard the voice of mine Own for an utter age of
grim labour and dread. And the voice was, as I did say, as that it came from one that did be in
a far place of the earth. And, in verity, whilst I stood dazed with a
great joy that the Maid did live, I knew within me, concerning the fear
that she was utter far off; and what peril might come anigh to her,
before that I should stand to her side, to do battle for her life and
well-being and mine own joy. And lo! in the same moment, and before that I made further speech unto
Naani, I did wot that someone did be a little way off from me, in the
bushes, where a fire-hole did burn anigh to me; and it was as that my
spirit knew this thing, and told of it unto my brain. And I made no
answer unto the Maid, across all the dark of the world; but went very
swift into a great bush that was nigh to the fire-hole, upon this side. And I lookt through, into the open space that did be about the
fire-hole. And there was a little figure that did kneel, sobbing, upon
the earth, beside the fire-hole; and truly it was a slim maid, and she
did seem as that she harked very desperate, even whilst yet she did sob. And surely, mine own soul did _Know_, all in one white moment of life. And she there, unknowing, and harking unto a cry of the spirit, that she
did think to come through all the desolation of the night--even from the
Mighty Pyramid. For oft, as I did perceive, had she cried unto me in all
that lonesome month, and known no answer; neither that I was making a
desperate way unto her; for, indeed, her weakness was great, so that she
had no power to throw the Word strongly afar, neither to make plain her
spiritual cryings through any mighty space of the aether. And lo! I drew in my breath, and set my teeth a moment, to steady my
lips; and I said: "MIRDATH," out of the bush where I did be, and using
natural human speech. And the Maid ceased from her weeping, and lookt
this way and that, with an utter new fear, and with a frightened hope
that did shine with her tears in the light from the fire-hole.