Suddenly he began to fall; down, down through a long narrow tunnel in the ground he tumbled, and as he fell the sides closed in over him, folding across his head as if the walls were made of soft mud that collapsed in. Once or twice as he fell he tried to catch on to the sides but when he did so and began to haul himself up they gave way and he felt himself sliding backwards again into the dark gaping vortex beneath. Further and further he dropped and around him all he could see was an inky swirling blackness which flashed in front of his eyes, and his mind whirled around so that he was unable to think or feel anything except an icy chill of fear. As he fell it seemed to get hotter so that now sweat was dripping off him and his whole body burned and tingled with a prickly fire that came from just under the skin. He felt himself shrinking as well and vaguely remembered that whereas when he began to fall he could almost touch the sides, now he could not even see them, so vast did the shaft seem.
Down and down he fell into the abyss, as if he would go on for ever, when he felt a sudden thump. He sat for a moment dazed and shocked, unable to control his thoughts and struggling to find something ordinary to tell him where he was. He looked down at the ground and saw a tuft of heather growing from amongst some stones. Gingerly he reached out and touched it to make sure it was real and his fingers closed around the soft feathery purple flowers. Slowly his mind stopped spinning and he looked up. He was still on the mountain where he remembered being before although it seemed a long time since he was there. And still all around was that thick damp mist, but now just ahead of him was the mouth of a huge cave at the base of a sheer rock cliff the top of which was lost in the mist. He looked inside the cave and saw, deep within, the familiar golden glow which once again started to draw him towards it. He got up and half-walked, half-stumbled across the few paces to the entrance, and then further in, deeper and deeper towards the light until it was just ahead of him. He stopped and stared at it, mesmerized by the little tongues of golden fire that leapt and danced against the cave wall. Then a voice came to him out of the light; a warm seductive voice, gentle and soothing, making him feel warm and safe. It called him by name and thanked him for all he had done; he had been chosen wisely it said, and he had justified all the faith and trust that had been placed in him. All manner of trials and hardships he had been through but now finally all that was over. This was the end; the journey was finished. Now he would always feel as he had felt when he strode like a giant over the mountains and the valleys; all-powerful and surging with strength. Look at the wall, the voice went on, and as Nab turned, the great high wall of the cave seemed to shiver with silver light until slowly it melted away and a picture took its place. So real was it that he felt a part of it; he could almost have walked in and touched what he saw. A great white coach was travelling slowly and steadily along a straight paved highway. Nab looked closely at the coach and saw that it was made of whalebone and ivory which shimmered in the silver light. On either side of the highway stood neatly clipped hedges and bushes and on the verge stood thousands of cheering Urkku, waving giant flags and shouting, ‘Hail, hail to the leader. Hail to the ruler.’ As far as the eye could see they stretched, and the coach moved through the middle of them with its two occupants staring straight ahead hardly noticing the crowds. Nab could only see them from the back and he watched as the coach carried them finally to a great palace with huge pillars and arches and a wide flight of steps leading up to a palisade on which courtiers and attendants waited in file. As the coach stopped and the couple alighted a band began to play and the music blended with the cheers to form a tumult of celebration. Up the steps they walked, and when they reached the top, two servants pulled open the mighty doors which opened into a massive hall. The floor was covered in rugs made from the skins of animals. Nab recognized some; sheepskin, deerskin, goat and badger but there were others he did not know from strange exotic animals who resided in the far north or west — reds and golds, blacks, oranges and whites, all mingled together to form a kaleidoscope of colour. Nab looked up to the walls. Arranged in rows on either side were the heads of numerous different animals, mounted on shields of wood. There hung the fox, the badger, the otter and deer and again a thousand others which he did not recognize, all with their mouths twisted in a half-snarl, half-sneer and their false eyes staring lifelessly at the scene below. Nab had still not seen the couple from the front but now he stared at their backs as they walked slowly over the rugs. They wore long cloaks of white fur which hung down to the floor and as they moved Nab could see their long leather boots trimmed with tufts of a different coloured fur. There was a familiar yet disturbing look about them as they made their way towards the two great thrones set on a raised dais at the end of the hall, and then, as they reached them and turned round, his heart stopped and his blood froze, for there, staring back at him from the picture was the exact double of himself. He looked fearfully at the other figure and saw that, as he had half-expected, it was Beth. On their heads they wore crowns of ivory and around their necks dangled necklaces of teeth and bone. Badger-hair bracelets adorned their wrists and two tortoiseshell combs held back the long flowing tresses of Beth’s golden hair. An awful doubt now began to nag at Nab’s befuddled mind. Was it really Ashgaroth who was showing him all this? He watched as the couple in the hall smiled at him and held up their arms as if beckoning. Then his double started to speak.
‘Yes,’ it said, but Nab did not recognize the voice. ‘Don’t look so in disbelief. I am you and you are me. All this could be yours, and more. You have seen the power of Dréagg and his glory. Follow him for this is what he offers you.’
The dreadful truth now began to penetrate. Dréagg was speaking to him; he was face to face with the Lord of Evil. Yet his brain was so numb that he was unable to move or even to think clearly. He stood rooted to the spot and, from a long way off, heard himself say,
‘What do you want of me? What must I do to follow?’
His double smiled again and put his arm around Beth, who also looked pleased and relieved. Never had Nab seen her looking so beautiful with her golden hair falling down over the sparkling white fur.
‘It is good,’ the double said. ‘You have chosen well for as Dréagg has shown you his glory so also has he given you a taste of his anger; an anger which had you rejected him would have followed you for ever.’
There was silence for a short spell; not a sound could be heard. Then a voice came once again from the golden glow in the corner of the cave.
‘You have the three Faradawn,’ it said, ‘locked in the Belt of Ammdar. Only you can unlock the Belt. Come then, take off the Belt and give it to me.’