Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Ardath the Story of a Dead Self, Vol. 1 of 3
Deep in the heart of the Caucasus mountains a wild storm was gathering. Drear' Shadows drooped and thickened above the Pass of Bariel, - that terrific gorge which like a mere thread seems to hang between the toppling frost-bound heights above and the black abysmal depths below, -clouds, fringed ominously With lurid green and white, drifted heavily yet swiftly across the jagged peaks where, looming largely out of the mist, the snow-capped crest of Mount Kazbek rose coldly white against the darkness Of the threatening sky. Night was approach ing, though away to the west a broad gash of crimson, a seeming wound in the breast of heaven, Showed where the sun had set an hour since. Now and again the rising wind moaned.
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