36
In the darkness a cell door clanged. Rough hands gripped Wilt’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet and out of the room. As he struggled to open his eyes, he felt the darkness clinging to the world around him, dripping from its every surface, as if an infection had spread that only he could see. A sickness to which there was no cure.
Lights and shapes began to blur into focus as he struggled to catch his feet. His boots dragged across the stone floor, bouncing and scraping the leather on stone in a series of jumps, as though he were a stone skipping across the surface of a troubled pond.
Wilt.
The voice was inside his mind, speaking directly to him. Trying to pin down the whirlwind.
Wilt. Wake up.
He raised his head slowly, trying to hold the image of the world in one place as he
