Out of that whirlwind no voice spoke and the pilgrim lying in his broken bones may cry out and in his anguish he may rage, but rage at what? And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?

“Dark of the invisible moon. The night now only slightly less black. By day the …”

“Toward early morning he woke, sat up quickly and looked about him. It was still…”

“In the dream from which he'd wakened he had wandered in a cave where the child …”

“The incinerate corpses shrunk to the size of a child and propped on the bare sp…”