The light that poured from the glass did n't fade so much as transfigure. At first it was bedazzling, a storm of tableware fire that wrapped around Elara until she no longer knew which way was over, nor where her body ended and the light began. also, little by little, it softened, dissolving into shapes and forms casts of worlds not her own. She floated in a vast ocean of images, suspended like a splint on a swash of stars. She saw fiefdoms rising and