Almost.
As the raft rounded a bend in the river the water narrowed,
flowed ever faster. And on the shore, obscured by the driving
rain and gathering fog, stood a creature of unearthly mien. It
neither moved nor spoke.
Demo had faced the bear that claimed the mountain ridges as
their own. The snarling night cats that dominated the forests
had stood before him. Of them all, none had aroused in him such
fear as now he felt.
For from this creature radiated a menace more fearsome than he
had ever known, an overwhelming evil emanation.
Demo gasped, eyes wide. "What is it! What manner of beast are
you . . . ?"
Almost immediately the creature disappeared in the swirling
mist.
It was gone! Though it disappeared from view he felt a
premonition. A premonition that he would see it again. He knew
not why, but knew it would be with him. A constant, unseen
companion. The chill that enveloped him now was not caused by
the cold, soaking rain.
Whether sundown was near, or had long past, he could not tell.
The dark, drear day had no sun, only the continuous rain.
Finally, there, on the cliff above, stood the temple, barely
visible.
He paddled with his hands, attempting to bring his raft to the
far shore. The water swirled, waves built up before the wind,
and currents formed and disappeared throughout the stream. His
paddling was almost to no avail. The makeshift raft swirled,
rocked, meandered randomly at the mercy of the river.
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