Nightspore made no reply, but seemed to be trying to recall something. The water around them was so still, colourless, and transparent, that they scarcely seemed to be borne up by liquid matter at all. Maskull’s corpse had disappeared.
The drumming was now like the clanging of iron. The oblong patch of light grew much bigger; it burned, fierce and wild. The darkness above, below, and on either side of it, began to shape itself into the semblance of a huge, black wall, without bounds.
“Is that really a wall we are coming to?”
“You will soon find out. What you see is Muspel, and that light is the gate you have to enter.”
Nightspore’s heart beat wildly.
“Shall I remember?” he muttered.
“Yes, you’ll remember.”
“Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost.”
“There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for you.”
“You are returning to the struggle?” demanded Nightspore, gnawing his fingertips.