such place, the ill-omenied Vale of Pnoth, there the rustling of the Dholes is ever present in utter darkness, where they infest mountainour piles of dried-out bones. For Pnoth is the ossuary into which all the ghouls of the waking and dreaming worlds alike, throw the remains of their nighted feastings.
Finally and yet more hurriedly, for by now Earth was swelling large in the time-dock's scanners, he made mention of Hlanith of the oaken wharves: Hlanith, whose sailors are more like men of the waking world than any others in the dreamlands — and ruined, fearsome Sarkomand, whose broken basalt quays and crumblingsphinxes are remnant of a time long before the years of men — and the mountain Hatheg-Kla, whose peak Barzai the Wise once climbed, never to come down again.. He spoke of Nir and Istharta, and the Charnel Gardens of Zura where pleasure is unattainable; also of Oriab in the Southern Sea, and infamous Thalarion; and at the very last, for he wished to be done now, he mentioned Ulthar where no man may kill a cat.
And Ulthar he had deliberately kept to the last, for it was where their quest must start. Indeed, for of all the towns and cities and lands of dream, Ulthar was the one, place which had its own Temple of the Elder Gods; and who better to talk to about Elysia than the priest of that temple, who himself aspired one day to a position there?
'And do you know him?' Moreen asked when de Marigny was done and the time-clock sailed in an orbit high above Earth's nightside. 'Is he a friend of yours, this high-priest of the temple?'
'Oh, yes,' he answered with a nod, taking her in his arms and settling down for sleep. 'I know him fairly well — or as well as any man of the waking world might be expected to know him. I've met him several times before: twice when I sought his help, and the last time at a banquet at the Inn of a Thousand Sleeping Cats, in Ulthar. But as for "friend" — I wouldn't presume. Ancient beyond words, he was around when the dreamlands were young! There's one thing I can guarantee, though, that he's pure as a pearl. As for his name: it's Atal the Ancient — Atal of Hatheg-Kla, who came down again when Barzai did not and if there's one man in all the dreamlands who can help us, Atal's that , man ...'
The first time de Marigny had used the time-clock to enter into the lands of Earth's dreams might well have been hi last; he remembered that fact now as he drifted into sleep in the arms of Moreen, but this time he had resolved would be different. The trick was this: to meld one's mind with that of the clock itself (for indeed it had a mind) as One fell asleep, and falling asleep to command the clock that it proceed into the neighbouring dreamlands. That way a 'man might take the clock with him into dreams, not merely use it as a gateway into those subconscious regions. That had been his mistake last time: to use the clock as a gateway, leaving it in orbit while he literally became stranded in darkling dreams! After that ... but that's a tale already told.
This time he made no such mistake. His will, slipping ever deeper into sleep, clung tenaciously to the time-clock, and even more especially to Moreen; so that all three of them, man, girl and machine, entered the dreamlands as a single unit. Physically, of course, they remained in orbit, all three; but. psychically they dreamed, the time-clock too. What's more, de Marigny's dreaming was accurate to a fault the clock materialized in Ulthar beyond the River Skai, in the courtyard of the Inn of a Thousand Sleeping Cats.
There the lovers 'awakened' in each other's arms, rose up and yawned, stretched, stepped out through the clock's frontal ,panel into Ulthar's evening. De Marigny was not sure what welcome he might expect, or even if he'd be remembered or welcomed at all; for surely his coming again would only serve as a vivid reminder of the Bad Days, when all the dreamlands had been in a turmoil of terror. But the scanners told him that the
Finally and yet more hurriedly, for by now Earth was swelling large in the time-dock's scanners, he made mention of Hlanith of the oaken wharves: Hlanith, whose sailors are more like men of the waking world than any others in the dreamlands — and ruined, fearsome Sarkomand, whose broken basalt quays and crumblingsphinxes are remnant of a time long before the years of men — and the mountain Hatheg-Kla, whose peak Barzai the Wise once climbed, never to come down again.. He spoke of Nir and Istharta, and the Charnel Gardens of Zura where pleasure is unattainable; also of Oriab in the Southern Sea, and infamous Thalarion; and at the very last, for he wished to be done now, he mentioned Ulthar where no man may kill a cat.
And Ulthar he had deliberately kept to the last, for it was where their quest must start. Indeed, for of all the towns and cities and lands of dream, Ulthar was the one, place which had its own Temple of the Elder Gods; and who better to talk to about Elysia than the priest of that temple, who himself aspired one day to a position there?
'And do you know him?' Moreen asked when de Marigny was done and the time-clock sailed in an orbit high above Earth's nightside. 'Is he a friend of yours, this high-priest of the temple?'
'Oh, yes,' he answered with a nod, taking her in his arms and settling down for sleep. 'I know him fairly well — or as well as any man of the waking world might be expected to know him. I've met him several times before: twice when I sought his help, and the last time at a banquet at the Inn of a Thousand Sleeping Cats, in Ulthar. But as for "friend" — I wouldn't presume. Ancient beyond words, he was around when the dreamlands were young! There's one thing I can guarantee, though, that he's pure as a pearl. As for his name: it's Atal the Ancient — Atal of Hatheg-Kla, who came down again when Barzai did not and if there's one man in all the dreamlands who can help us, Atal's that , man ...'
The first time de Marigny had used the time-clock to enter into the lands of Earth's dreams might well have been hi last; he remembered that fact now as he drifted into sleep in the arms of Moreen, but this time he had resolved would be different. The trick was this: to meld one's mind with that of the clock itself (for indeed it had a mind) as One fell asleep, and falling asleep to command the clock that it proceed into the neighbouring dreamlands. That way a 'man might take the clock with him into dreams, not merely use it as a gateway into those subconscious regions. That had been his mistake last time: to use the clock as a gateway, leaving it in orbit while he literally became stranded in darkling dreams! After that ... but that's a tale already told.
This time he made no such mistake. His will, slipping ever deeper into sleep, clung tenaciously to the time-clock, and even more especially to Moreen; so that all three of them, man, girl and machine, entered the dreamlands as a single unit. Physically, of course, they remained in orbit, all three; but. psychically they dreamed, the time-clock too. What's more, de Marigny's dreaming was accurate to a fault the clock materialized in Ulthar beyond the River Skai, in the courtyard of the Inn of a Thousand Sleeping Cats.
There the lovers 'awakened' in each other's arms, rose up and yawned, stretched, stepped out through the clock's frontal ,panel into Ulthar's evening. De Marigny was not sure what welcome he might expect, or even if he'd be remembered or welcomed at all; for surely his coming again would only serve as a vivid reminder of the Bad Days, when all the dreamlands had been in a turmoil of terror. But the scanners told him that the
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