CHAPTER 11SORCERY AGAINST SORCERY
He could hear it, but faintly, like the echo of an echo; even thus, it gnawed at the edges of his mind, at the foundations of his sanity, and reason swayed, trembling. The unearthly cold drenched him through and through; the unendurable blackness blotted out even the memory of light. A loneliness so poignant as to resemble pain rose within him; a lost, abandoned hopelessness so virulent as to be like some disease of the soul threatened to drown and drag him down into the swirling vortex of nighted gloom.
Spell after spell he hurled at that which encompassed him, but to no avail. Cantrip after cantrip he uttered in a hoarse, croaking voice, through frozen lips. But the swirling tides of darkness sucked him down, and ever that accursed and damnable whisper
