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Chapter 11: Structure of Rifts
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Chapter 13: Skitters and Swamphogs
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... h Jethro’s cheap boots, the smell of rusted metal and smoke, and the constant shift and clang of armor all around him.
The next moment— for any one who believed in common sense —everything defied it. There was no land, no air, nothing tangible or real. Only the existence of a quantum presence and shifting space that twisted violently.
His stomach flipped, his ears popped, and dozens of colors spun in his vision, till one remained.
Black.
The color of darkness.
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