Part Ten

           Wearesittingatatableandwearewritingthisuponpapermadethousandsofyearsago.Thelightisdim,andwecannotseetheGoldenOne,onlyonelockofgoldonthepillowofanancientbed.Thisisourhome.

           Wecameuponittoday,atsunrise.Formanydayswehadbeencrossingachainofmountains.Theforestroseamongcliffs,andwheneverwewalkedoutuponabarrenstretchofrockwesawgreatpeaksbeforeusinthewest,andtothenorthofus,andtothesouth,asfarasoureyescouldsee.Thepeakswereredandbrown,withthegreenstreaksofforestsasveinsuponthem,withbluemistsasveilsovertheirheads.Wehadneverheardofthesemountains,norseenthemmarkedonanymap.TheUnchartedForesthasprotectedthemfromtheCitiesandfromthemenoftheCities.

           Weclimbedpathswherethewildgoatdarednotfollow.Stonesrolledfromunderourfeet,andweheardthemstrikingtherocksbelow,fartherandfartherdown,andthemountainsrangwitheachstroke,andlongafterthestrokeshaddied.Butwewenton,forweknewthatnomenwouldeverfollowourtracknorreachushere.

           Thentoday,atsunrise,wesawawhiteflameamongthetrees,highonasheerpeakbeforeus.Wethoughtthatitwasafireandstopped.Buttheflamewasunmoving,yetblindingasliquidmetal.Soweclimbedtowarditthroughtherocks.Andthere,beforeus,onabroadsummit,withthemountainsrisingbehindit,stoodahousesuchaswehadneverseen,andthewhitefirecamefromthesunontheglassofitswindows.

           Thehousehadtwostoriesandastrangeroofflatasafloor.