Then the first Dead Hand pulled itself out of the mill race and turned towards him. It was dark, true dark now, but Sam could just make it out. It had been human once, but the magic that had brought it back to Life had twisted the body as if following a mad artist’s whim. Its arms trailed below its ankles, its head no longer sat upon a neck but sank into its should, and the mouth had split upwards, usurping the place that had once held a nose. There were more behind it, other twisted shapes.