He stopped and looked down at his hands. ‘But I’m no Master,’ he said. ‘Competent, yes. Perhaps above average. But no Master. Where a Master might walk with measured step, I suspect I tripped and blundered in.’
‘To here?’ Antyr asked.
Nyriall shook his head. ‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘Some other place. Dark and barren. A great bleak plain with a bitter wind blowing across it.’
‘And figures, shadows, waiting for you?’ Antyr said, unable to contain himself.
Nyriall nodded. ‘Two,’ he said. ‘And they radiated the menace that had been haunting me. Without thinking about what had happened or where I was, I just challenged them.’
He wrapped his arms about himself and his face became drawn. ‘They seemed surprised as they turned to look at me...’ His voice became hoarse and he shuddered at the mem
