Suspension isn't like sleep, Doctor Jackson. You won't be subjectively aware that any time has passed. It will be like you blinked and someone changed the channel.”

Shooting one last bewildered look at her mother before the kitchen door slammed shut, Aodra trotted away from the cottage, cutting across the apple orchard that grew beside it. She did not get very far when a noise reached her ears, the canter of horse hooves. She turned. Four men in filigreed armor strapped over scarlet vestments were riding up the dirt road that spanned the length of White Creek.