The Night Land

Now, as may be conceived, this sure knowledge that we might give no

succour to the People of the Lesser Redoubt, weighed heavy upon my

heart; for I had, maybe with foolishness, held vague hopes and wonders

concerning our power to make expedition secretly into the Night, to

discover that Lesser Pyramid, and rescue those poor thousands; and above

all, as may be thought, had I the thought of that sweet moment in which

I should step forward out of the night and all mystery and terror, and

put forth mine arms to Naani, saying: "I am That One." And knowing, in

my soul, that she that had been mine in that bygone Eternity, should

surely know me upon the instant; and call out swiftly, and come swiftly,

and be again unto me in that age, even as she had been in this.

And to think upon it, and to know that this thing should never be; but

that, even in that moment of thought, she that had been mine in these

olden days of sweetness, might be even then suffering horror in the

Power of some foul Monster, was like a kind of madness; so that nearly I

could seize the Diskos, and run forth unprepared into the evil and

terror of the Night Land, that I should make one attempt to come to that

Place where she abode, or else to cast off my life in the attempt.

And oft did I call to Naani; and always I sent the Master-Word beating

through the night, that she might have assurance that it was indeed I

that did speak unto her spirit, and no foul thing or Monster, spelling

evil and lies unto her. And oft did I make to instruct her that never should she be tempted

forth from the shelter of that Redoubt in which she did live, by any

message out of the night; but always to await the Master-Word; and,

moreover, to have a sure knowledge that none that was her Friend would

ever seek to entice her into the night.

And this way and that way would I speak with Naani, sending my words

silently with my brain-elements; yet was it doleful and weariful and

dreadful always to have speech into the dark, and never to hear the

answering beat of the Master-Word, and the sweet, faint voice whispering

within my soul. Yet, once and again, would I have knowledge that the

aether did thrill about me, weakly, and to mine inward hearing it would

seem that the Master-Word did beat faintly in the night; and thereafter

would my heart have a little comfort, in that I had assurance, of a

kind, that the love-maid of my memory-dreams did still live.