Shadowland. Spider World 06 by Colin Wilson

His words were accompanied by a mental image of the mountain Niall immediately recognized the phantasmagoric landscape, with some peaks like needles and others with the flat tops of volcanoes. It was the place where Skorbo had crashed.

Niall asked: “What kind of a place is Shadowland?”

“You have been in the land below the sacred mountain? Shadowland is like that, but far bigger. My people used to call it the Land of Green Twilight. It is more than thirty leagues from end to end.”

“Have you been there?”

“Many times. Long before I was born it was the home of creatures called ‘Troglas’ ” — the accompanying mental image was of a kind of black ape — “but many of them were killed by poisonous fumes when the mountain erupted. When I was a child, it was a ghostly wilderness haunted by the half-dead. Then Sathanas and his warriors found refuge there. And gradually their number increased.”

Niall asked the obvious question.

“How did their number increase if they had no women?” But even as he asked, he had already guessed the answer.

“They raided the cliff dwellings and carried off everyone who lived there.”

So Niall had guessed correctly. Skorbo’s assassins were the descendants of the cliff dwellers.

“What happened then?” It was the elder of the two boys who asked the question. He had been listening with fascination ever since he woke up and heard Niall speaking of his brother.

His grandfather replied: “Only Sathanas knows that. But in those early days, I once overheard one of his guards say that he had discovered some old carvings on a tomb, and that it was from these that he began to learn the magic arts.”

Niall suddenly remembered his visit to the library in the white tower, and how the old man had told him that anthropologists had concluded that certain primitive tribes were able to perform feats of magic, such as rain-making. He asked: “Is it true that the karvasid can control the weather?”

“Certainly. But that is not difficult. Even I can control the weather.”

Niall asked curiously: “How?”

“One method is through this.” He reached out for the crystal globe, and handed it to Niall.

Niall had expected it to be greasy; to his surprise, it was as clear as if it had been newly polished. He asked: “Why is it so clean?”

“It cleans itself. That is the nature of the crystal. It even repels dust.”

“And how can it be used to control the weather?”

The old man said: “That is difficult to explain, but easy to show you. Come.”

He stood up and went through the doorway. His son and grandson followed him. The captain hesitated, wondering if he was invited, but the troll child smiled and beckoned him. Only the trollwife remained behind, placing the child on a mattress in a basket, and began clearing the table.

Niall had to lower himself to the floor by grasping the edge of the table, and hurried after them. The crystal globe, as if responding to his excitement, sent tiny electric impulses through his hand. With their longer strides, the others were already halfway up the stairs. Scrambling up these waist-high steps, Niall experienced a sudden memory of childhood, when he was dwarfed by furniture that towered above him, and grown-ups who looked like giants.

As he reentered it, the crystal cave produced on him an even stronger impact of power and beauty. His contact with the trolls obviously had attuned him to its vibrations. It was as if he was surrounded by a sound like a rushing wind blowing through a forest. He glanced up toward the ceiling, almost expecting to see trees bending in the wind.

The others were at the rear of the cave, where the icy translucence of the crystals gave way to upright columns that looked like green glass trees with long spearlike leaves. Facing these was an object like a throne or an armchair carved from ice. In front of this was a green column, about a foot taller than Niall, that terminated in a cuplike hollow. Inside this cup something shone and glowed like a living light. It reminded Niall of the recently repaired lighthouse that stood at the end of one of the harbor arms to guide incoming ships at night.

The troll child was sitting on the chair, staring at the light as if hypnotized. As Niall approached, he noticed something strange about the globe in his hand; it was throbbing as if in sympathy with the light, and tugging at his hand as if trying to escape like a balloon. Instinctively he held it tightly against him.

At that moment, a crash like thunder startled him so much that he almost dropped the globe. The air was filled with a sharp electrical smell. The young troll laughed and clapped his hands, and Niall realized that he was somehow responsible for the thunder.

The grandfather lifted the child from the chair, and gestured for Niall to take his place, helping him by lifting him under the arms. To Niall, the chair seemed gigantic; its armrests were as high as his head. The globe in his hands was now tugging so hard that he had to hold it with both hands. The tingling sensation was uncomfortably strong, like trying to hold something that was too hot.

The grandfather reached inside the hollow, and took out another globe about the same size as the one Niall was holding so tightly. He placed this carefully on the floor, where its light slowly died away. Then he took the globe from Niall’s hand, and placed it in the hollow at the top of the column. Instantly, it began to shine with a light that was far more powerful than the one it had replaced — so strong that Niall had to shield his eyes, and the captain took a step backward. Then Niall experienced a compulsion to remove his hands and look directly at the light. As he did so, he felt its power flowing through him, as if he had also been transformed into a globe of light.

It was a strange sensation, at once frightening and exhilarating. He felt like a thirsty man drinking from a cup, afraid that someone would snatch it away. The light renewed a sense of inner strength that he had once experienced in the white tower.

The old man indicated the green column.

“This is the pallen, and it connects the globe to its environment.”

Niall could sense that some form of energy was rising up the pallen, and causing the globe to glow like a lightbulb.

The effect on Niall resembled in some ways what happened when he used the thought mirror. But the thought mirror only seemed to strengthen his will. This magic globe also seemed to deepen his feelings and to increase his knowledge and insight. The thought mirror strengthened his mind; this force also extended it, so that he could feel the presence of the mountains, and of the Valley of the Dead.

As the powers of the crystal drew him into its world, he also began to understand its purpose and its history. The man who had carved it was a priest, and it had taken him a year to select a block of quartz that weighed more than fifty pounds, and to free from its crystal prison this globe that weighed less than a pound, and whose energies had formed over more than a million years.

It was no wonder the Magician wanted it so badly. With the crystal globe in his possession, his powers would be awesome, and the energy at his disposal almost infinite. For this crystal extended its filaments all over the Earth, like a spider’s web, and the energy that was now causing the globe to send out pulses of light was the energy of the Earth itself, the same explosive force that was discharged in thunder and lightning. It was stored, as if in a battery, in the blocks of crystal that now surrounded him. And when he entered the world of the crystal globe, the force became available to his own mind. Without stirring from his seat — which provided a ready-made connection between his mind and the globe — he could have caused the Valley of the Dead to shake with thunderstorms, and made its lake overflow into a destructive torrent.

These insights raised an obvious question. He withdrew his mind from the globe, causing its light to grow dimmer, and asked the troll: “Does the karvasid possess a globe like this?”

“Yes, but it is far less powerful.”

“Where did it come from?”

“He made it himself, with the aid of a boca he had enslaved.” The troll anticipated Niall’s next question. “A boca is a nature spirit who lives in silver and copper mines, and who can take human form. They are the great craftsmen of the deva world.”