“But what’s to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it’s a well-known country?”
“It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I have scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens.”
“Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have found Faceny, what do you gain?”
Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face, and its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow that Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by the grief and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved one, the scents and traces of whose person were always present. This passion stamped aer features at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual beauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man.
But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast showed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but vulgar—it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal aims with untiring persistence.
He looked at the phaen askance, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Well, we will go together. We may find something, and in any case I shan’t be sorry to converse with such a singular individual as yourself.”
“But I should warn you, Maskull. You and I are of different creations. A phaen’s body contains the whole of life, a man’s body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman. Faceny may be too strong a draught for your body to endure.... Do you not feel this?”
“I am dull with my different feelings. I must take what precautions I can, and chance the rest.” He bent down, and, taking hold of the phaen’s thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he proceeded to swathe in folds around his forehead. “I’m not forgetting your advice, Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and finish it as Digrung.”
The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a long time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion’s counsel to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it. The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm, where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream.
Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying to comprehend what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull, or what is the matter?”