Nightworld

Something was happening.

Rasalom had been uncharacteristically silent. And his huge new form did not lie quiet in its amniotic sack. The membrane rippled now and again, like a chill running over fevered skin, and occasionally it bulged in places as Rasalom shifted within.

Glaeken closed his eyes and tried to sense what was happening. He stood perfectly still, listening, feeling.

Warmth.

Light…there was light above. Not visible here, but he sensed it. Light and warmth, seeping into the earth above the cavern. And behind…

He turned and looked down the passageway. Where there had been perfect darkness, there was now the faintest glow. An illusion? Or the harbinger of a tiny dawn?

Glaeken turned back to his ancient enemy.

"What's happening upstairs, Rasalom? Tell me!"

But now it was Rasalom's turn to be silent.