We escaped in winter. They would not chase us in the snow because they knew we would die—that they would die, probably, chasing us. We knew we would die. It was better to die trying to escape; even a hopeless chance was a chance. More than once, I thought I saw death, a shadow hidden in the falling snow. He was always near.
I was delirious. We were crossing a frozen lake. It was like walking on glass. It had stopped snowing, and the sky was clear. I looked down and saw dark forms moving in the waters below, strange, deep things that have no name.
And they whispered promises to me, filled my mind with dreams I cannot recall…only, vaguely, one thing…I shook something like a hand.
When we passed over that sea, we found an old man with fire and food, and the specter of death was gone.
Tale Told 