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. He
had never been here before, yet it was familiar. The ground was an
odd color-a kind of muted pink, the same color as the sky. His
father's voice came to him, AS THOUGH IT WAS SUNSET OR
SOMEWHERE IN THE DISTANCE, A FIRE BURNED. . . .
Palin closed his eyes to blot out the horror of realization as fear
surged over him in a suffocating wave, robbing him of breath or
even the power to stand.
"The Abyss," he murmured, his shaking hand holding onto the
staff for support.
"Palin-" the voice broke off in a choked cry.
Palin's eyes flared open, startled at hearing his name, alarmed
by the sound of desperation in the voice.
Turning around, stumbling in the sand, the young man looked in
the direction of that terrible sound and saw, rising up before
him, a stone wall where no wall had been only seconds
previously. Two undead figures walked toward the wall,
dragging something between them. The "something" was
human, Palin could see, human and living! It struggled in its
captor's grasp as though trying to escape, but resistance was
useless against those whose strength came from beyond the
grave.
As the three drew nearer the wall, which was, ap-
parently, their destination, for one pointed to it and laughed,
the human ceased his struggles for a moment. Lifting his
head, he looked directly at Palin. ' Golden skin, pupils the
shape of hourglasses . . .
"Uncle?" Palin breathed, starting to take a step forward
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