For more than an hour, Pei Jing stood with one foot forward and felt for rock that would hold under both fields. When he could put weight on it without the ground shifting, he took another step. He moved the near edge of the heavy field ahead of him each time. Only the stray force that ran through the rock reached his boots. The air pressed against his bare chest. Each breath felt warm in his chest and cold at the edges of his ribs.
His boot came down. The loose shale went flat and dark under it. When he raised his foot again, there was a smooth tile where the stone had been. Thirty-six paces lay between him and Vor.
The right head swung toward him. Twelve rows of clear teeth showed in its open jaw. They rang like thin glass. Pei Jing heard the sound in his head before it reached his ears.
Then he saw cities burn. He saw a roof fall over people running through a square. He heard children crying behind a door that had already caught fire. As soon as one sight passed, another took its place. The force behind them pressed at the part of his mind that knew his own name.
