Book One – Chapter 1

The Veil did not stand. It descended amidst like a curtain made of shards. The rain was so dense that it seemed to solidify; not a storm, but an ever-suspended boundary. It framed a circular depression torn into the land. From that circle, the fall of glass extended outward in a single diagonal rupture that cut the dunes from east to west; a massive cleft that ripped through the basin like a scar and carried far into   beyond. All along its edges, the shards struck without pause, enclosing the wound in a ceaseless shimmer of splintered light.

The sun did not illuminate the Veil so much as it became trapped within. All daylight broke, as soon as it touched upon the falling shards. Once caught, it was forever split and refracted, until its white, violent glare splintered into a thousand hues of ashen silver and pale gold. The air was flooded with dying daylight; which rendered the boundary less like falling matter than a phenomenon of light made hostile. The shards flashed until they shattered. Where they fell, they ground themselves to dust. Fine crystal powder gathered in drifts and pale banks, stirred by the wind into glittering surges that washed across the glassen earth. It looked soft from a distance, but even the dust cut deadly.

Behind the Veil within the depression, the White Fire burned.

And out of the flames rose the monoliths.

Even with Second Sight, Yves could see them only vaguely. He and Midnight had halted with safe distance from the Veil. Beyond the falling shards, the first of the monoliths emerged as indistinct crystalline forms, their outlines distorted by glare and the heat-bent air. The shard-rain confused their shape, and the White Fire consumed any distinction beyond the interruptions in brightness they caused.