In a moment, the universe had changed. In an instant, the ground beneath Zy’s feet was no longer the same: its meaning had altered, or had been altered, rather. Even more impressively, Zy intuited, simultaneously, everywhere in the SolTanZoZon, everything was placed in a new relation. The centre of the circle had changed – and with it, the perimeter. Or it was like a raindrop forming on the petal of a cloudberry: the drop grew more and more swollen, more potential with itself, more pendulous, more tear-shaped, until it seemed that it must roll off the petal, and fall to the ground; and so it did – but until that last, last moment when the thread of lucid water finally gave up its allegiance to the cloudberry, and declared itself for open space and then the ground, the raindrop still belonged to the petal. When it fell, it all fell, together. And perhaps that was what had happened in LuinShar. The raindrop had slipped off the cloudberry petal.

Excerpt from Fire House, Volume 6 of Dustless