‘Is this the Golden Land? The promised hereafter? The special place of heroes?’
The words were full of doubt. Then, in horror, ‘We are defeated. We are without form. This is a place of darkness — we are cast down into the place of the apostates.’
Vashnar could do no other than raise his hands to his ears in an attempt to keep out the ululating shrieks of terror that rose up from this. But the gesture was fruitless. The sounds were in his head. Their mounting panic threatened to overwhelm him. He felt his knees buckling and, gritting his teeth with effort, he forced his hands down to grasp the handrail to steady himself.
‘Silence!’ he roared into the empty, screeching greyness.
The word boomed through the howling din like the wave from a rock fall tumbled into a mountain lake, sweeping
