The throbbing became audible; it now sounded like a distant drum. A small patch of strange light in the far distance, straight ahead of them, began faintly to illuminate the floating island and the glassy sea around it.
“Do all men escape from that ghastly world, or only I, and a few like me?” asked Nightspore.
“If all escaped, I shouldn’t sweat, my friend... There’s hard work, and anguish, and the risk of total death, waiting for us yonder.”
Nightspore’s heart sank. “Have I not yet finished, then?”
“If you wish it. You have got through. But will you wish it?”
The drumming grew loud and painful. The light resolved itself into a tiny oblong of mysterious brightness in a huge wall of night. Krag’s grim and rocklike features were revealed.
“I can’t face rebirth,” said Nightspore. “The horror of death is nothing to it.”
“You will choose.”
“I can do nothing. Crystalman is too powerful. I barely escaped with my own soul.”
“You are still stupid with Earth fumes, and see nothing straight,” said Krag.