The Dark Crystal Read Online Free PDF

together the tips of his thumbs and forefingers – his concentration on those memories had led straight through to something he feared – some blackness, cruel pain, weeping. Was the past always stalking the present, waiting to destroy it? UrSu had told him that a two-dimensional question like that had no solution, and therefore no meaning. “Make a triangle with past, present, and future. Then each two will explain the third.”

    “Nothing is except energy,” urSu had said another time. “Energy exists only when a connection can be made. Connect one to one, and you will have energy that will serve your life. Connect one to one to one, and nothing will ever be the same again. Look at my face, Jen. What you see was born when three were made one. Look harder now, harder than you have ever known how to look, and you might see that three will be made one again.”

    “What do you mean, Master? It is hard to understand. Can you not put it more simply?”

    “It is already as simple as it can be. That is why you find it hard to understand.”

    Toward the end of the night, the urRu awaited the dawn, the twilight in which a spirit feels most at peace. Their funeral ceremony was prepared. Seven of them sat in positions that, together with three Standing Stones, formed a tetraktys. Set apart on one side was urUtt, with a harp; facing the rest from a knoll behind the tallest stone at the apex of the triangle was urZah. Jen, sitting beside him, was encouraged to play his flute throughout the night watch, because of his special relationship to urSu. In front of urZah were three pots.

    When the first pale flush of dawn light tinged the mists rising around the stones, urZah gently pushed Jen’s flute away from his lips. At the same moment, urUtt struck a plangent harmony that resonated for a long time.

    The next to sound was urTih the Alchemist, who used his right front arm – an artificial limb of wood, like the right leg – to make a bowl sing. It was a bowl he had fashioned from seven metals, and when he drew his wooden arm firmly around the rim, the bowl howled as though with the voice of a wandering spirit, ululating when he tipped the water inside it from side to side.

    Others joined in, working to a slow pulse of rhythm. UrAc the Scribe struck a gong, urYod the Numerologist rang a passing bell, and urSol the Chanter raised his mighty voice, leading the rest in a great chorus.

    Meanwhile, the touch of dawn light had activated the small crystal at the end of the Master’s staff, where it lay on the central stone. First, the crystal glowed as though concentrating the light in itself. Then the wood around it smoldered and began to burn. The flame moved slowly down the stick, away from the crystal, leaving behind a line of white embers and a scorch-mark on the stone. The smoke curled into the mists, which were filling with light.

    UrZah picked up one of the three pots in front of him and tipped it upside down, pouring a stream of dry soil into Jen’s hand. UrUtt was playing in the lowest register of his harp, and urSol directed the chorus accordingly.

    “With the ground, be one,” urZah told Jen.

    He threw the pot away. It shattered on the tallest Standing Stone, scattering fragments over urSu’s coat.

    UrZah picked up the second pot. UrUtt and urSol moved to the middle register. From the pot urZah poured water over Jen’s hand.

    “With water, be one.”

    He threw the pot after the first and picked up the third. The harp and chanting soared. When urZah upturned the pot, nothing came out.

    “With the air, be one.”

    He handed the pot to Jen, who looked at him questioningly. UrZah offered no answer. Jen threw the pot against the stone, where it shattered. UrZah nodded slowly.

    The staff had burned itself away. Its expiring smoke rose to meet a lambent wraith of mist that seemed to be descending into the triangle of stones. Jen saw that the coat of urSu had now evaporated into nothingness. Only the shards of