And when the moon was at its full, they came to the Hill of the Bell.
And through the night the Bell went GONGH, GONGH, GONGH, until they
could feel it in every fiber of their bodies, and their skin itched
with it. They would stop their ears. But they would hear it in the
palms of their hands and the soles of their feet. GONGH, GONGH, GONGH.

And when they left the Hill of the Bell there were only six of the
caravan left, and a multitude of white-sheeted ghosts. And the
caravan plodded onward dully. And now the warlocks of the desert
played another cruelty. Afar off they would put a seeming of a lake,
and the travelers would press on gladly, crying, "There is water!
Water! God lives! God lives!" But there was only sand. And now
it would be a green vision, and they would cry: "We have come to
the edge of the desert. After the long night, dawn. God lives!
God lives!" But there would be only sand, sand. And now it would
be a city of shining domes in the distance. And they would nudge
one another and croak, "There are men there, brother, secure streets,
and merchants in their booths; people to talk with, and water for
our poor throats." But there would be only sand, sand, sand. . .
And they would cry like children. "God is dead! Haven't you heard?
Don't you know? God is dead in His heaven, and the warlocks are
loosed on the land!"

And on the last day of the moon they were all but in sight of the
desert's edge, though they didn't know. And the goblins and the
warlocks took counsel, for they were now afraid Marco and his few
people would escape. They gathered together and they read the runes
of the Flowing Sand.

And suddenly the camels rushed screaming into the desert with sudden