Chapter seventeen
Out from the jaws of deathWe never again saw any of those mercenaries who had fled — not one, ever.
What we expected to see, Opaz alone knows. I do not.
What we did see was a solid wall of darkness. The floor revolved one hundred and eighty degrees, and halted with a shuddering lurch, as though we were suspended by chains over a fathomless gulf. The blackness smote our eyes. The yellow light within the Hall of Ghouls continued; but it remained thin and pale. The stone slabs lay empty of corpses. The detritus on the floor crackled underfoot as we moved. Cautiously, we advanced toward that ebon wall, and it resisted, and we could make no impression on its immaterial substance.
The tall rows of empty biers frowned down. The light smoked somber upon us, and the silence st
