“I'm
floating,” Robert whispers to himself, “High, high above
everything else. So high I can barely see this car, it's just a tiny
spot racing across a white landscape. So high even the pen looks
small.”
Slowly
he begins to zone out the noise of the pen dragging across the
ground, the roar of the cars engines. He starts to feel a gap open
between his body, which is being flung around in the back of the car,
and his conscious mind.
“I'm
floating up here,” he whispers, “None of that matters up here.”
He
feels the air around him once more, brushing his arms, holding him
up.
“Now
I'll open my eyes,” he says, picturing himself doing just that,
“And read what it says.”
And
he does just that: he opens his eyes, gasps at the words and snaps
back into his body in the car.
“Did
you read it,” Raven demands as he opens his eyes.
“Yes,
yes I did,” Robert replies, “It says Corvus Must Die.”
