CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Screaming his head off, Shell fell like a rock down a sheer cliff. He spun head over heels in the air, the sky and the ground changing places rapidly. He sometimes saw the white clouds of the sky and then other times saw the tall trees of a forest of some sort below him and still other times a large castle somewhere in the distance. Yet he could never fix on any one detail for very long, because he spun around too much to be able to focus on anything except his sheer, utter terror at falling, falling, falling through the sky.
Wind tore through Shell’s hair, his glasses barely hung onto his face, and the ground was getting closer and closer every second. All Shell could do was scream in pure terror, even when his mouth went dry.
Just beyond the dim terror that domina
