im, but this time with violence. Instructed
in his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young
man tightly to his body with all three arms. A feeling of wild, sweet
delight immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he
comprehended the triumphant joys of "absorbing." It satisfied the hunger
of the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung
proved feeble--he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly
and evenly into Maskull's. The latter became strong and gorged. The
victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in
his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his
second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but...

Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected
her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to
pick up Crimtyphon's corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung's
dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask.

"Why hasn't he altered?" he muttered to himself.

Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot.
"He isn't dead--that's why. The expression you mean is waiting for your
death."

"Then is that my real character?"

She laughed softly. "You came here to carve a strange world, and now it
appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there's no doubt about it, Maskull.
You needn't stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like the rest of
us. You are not a king, or a god."

"Since when have I belonged to him?"

"What does that matter? Perhaps since you first breathed the air of
Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago."

Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and
strode on to the next island. Maskull followed, physically distressed
and looking very grave.

The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident. The
character of the scenery slowly changed. The mountaintops became loftier
and more widely separated from one another. The gaps were filled with
rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like
a mysterious sea. To pass from island to island was hard work, the
intervening spaces were so wide--Tydomin, however, knew the way. The
intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape,
emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on
Maskull's mind. The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of
Disscourn, which