The black figure caught her, helped her stand, and spoke aloud in the voice that had spoken inside her skull: “Look,” he said, “there it comes.”
The black figure caught her, helped her stand, and spoke aloud in the voice that had spoken inside her skull: “Look,” he said, “there it comes.”
Water crashed and boiled below them with a roar that shook the solid rock. The waters parted by the island joined white and roaring, swept on, hissed and foamed and crashed on the long slope to the dunes, stilled to a rocking of bright waves.
Rolery stood clinging to the wall, shaking. She could not stop shaking.
