It must have come from some of the creatures that drifted above this floor, the serpents and kelp-men of the Deeps, the hunched warning figures of the dolls and the monstrous coconuts. The fog was their breath and caress, and it had slashed men on this shore before. Corun always preferred the bliss of the starlight, and he had only the water to fear and the fires to ban.
Woven into the walls were monstrous beasts--spiders bred by the hundred from the removed skins of long-dead mermen and merwomen. Sometimes, men were so fed on the fish they caught here that their eyes turned away when they first peered into the mist. Corun hated dolphins, for they were cunning and they knew too much. He crouched and listened to the sounds of the sea, and the wind, and the hissing and the snarling of the creatures.
The castle loomed ahead, blacker than the night that was gathering, the gigantic walls climbing sheer toward the sky, the spear-like towers half lost in the swirling fog. There was always fog here, Corun remembered, mist and rain and shadow; it was never full day on the island. He sniffed the dank sea-smell that blew from the gaping portals and bristled in recollection. d2c66b5586