The phaen gazed at him with queer, ancient eyes, and smiled again.
"This stream, Maskull, like every other life stream in Matterplay,
has its source in Faceny. But as all these streams issue out from
Threal, it is in Threal that we must look for Faceny."

"But what's to prevent your finding Threal? Surely it's a well-known
country?"

"It lies underground. Its communications with the upper world are
few, and where they are, no one that I have ever spoken to knows. I
have scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates
of Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn
infants beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green
youth, dwelling among a throng of fellow phaens."

"Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have
found Faceny, what do you gain?"

Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The smile faded from aer face,
and its place was taken by such a look of unearthly pain and sorrow
that Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was consumed by
the grief and yearning of a lover eternally separated from the loved
one, the scents and traces of whose person were always present. This
passion stamped her features at that moment with a wild, stern,
spiritual beauty, far transcending any beauty of woman or man.

But the expression vanished suddenly, and then the abrupt contrast
showed Maskull the real Leehallfae. Aer sensuality was solitary, but
vulgar--it was like the heroism of a lonely nature, pursuing animal