Sunny was looking ahead from two entirely different perspectives.
He was Master Sunless, standing on the emerald grass of the Ivory Island. He was also the Lord of Shadows, standing on the surface of the ancient bone in the middle of the sprawling mass of the camped army.
The Hollow Mountains — a familiarly chilling sight — were rising like a colossal dark wall in the distance, with white mist shrouding the jagged black peaks. And there, between his somber incarnations and the misty slopes, a titanic skull loomed above the world, looking down at the insignificant struggles of the mortal warriors with an indifferent, eerie grin.
Each of its empty eye sockets was large enough to encompass a vast city, filled with nothing but impenetrable darkness.
Both of Sunny's incarnations shivered.
'It's strange, really.'
