Chapter ten
Among the ruins of the Sunset PeopleFrom the concealment of a screen of bushes we looked upon a scene at once hideous and horrific. The Renders had extinguished their torches and they did not speak above an awed whisper. The lights illuminating those time-weathered stones were not our lights. The flaring torches wrapped tendrils of golden brilliance about the old columns and arches, lit gray walls and time-toppled cornices. Shattered domes like eggshells smashed wantonly glittered starkly in the pink moons-light. We crouched silently and we stared upon that pagan scene.
Next to me crouched the trembling form of Fazmarl the Beak. I could feel his body shaking against my shoulder.
“I warned them, the fools,” he whispered to himself, and I could feel the tenseness in the words
