Chapter Twenty
My hand clutches at my crotch, trying to calm the maddening prickle there that could have me writhing and weeping with the agitation, or see my possessed fingers teasing out a wracking, almost hateful climax that will cure nothing. I am addled, shaking, my breath still coming heavy enough to pang in my lungs. I can no longer pick him out of the night. All I can see is that snake of torch-flames zig-zagging down the slope from the fortress on its way towards me.
Then the first fire, the snake-head, does a little dance, jerking sideways against the pitch black of the slope, and stops its march. A few moments pass, then the next fire in the zigzag does the same. Then the next. It is like the creatures holding them are waving the torches as some kind of signal, then setting th
