“[Morgan] raised her arms to protect herself, wincing in pain but keeping her eyes squeezed shut...Somewhere nearby, she could hear someone whimpering, and she suspected that she was hearing herself.”

“Morgan could feel her cheeks burning hot as the freezing air drew the heat from her. Her fingers ached as they pushed, and her breath clouded the air before her, making it difficult to see. Her nose burned and her eyes watered, but she kept pushing, Breathing was quickly becoming difficult, because the more cold air she sucked in, the harder it was to draw the next breath.”

“She looked deep into the sphere and watched the colors swirl around. As she watched the whirling colors, she could feel herself being drawn into the hypnotic patterns inside the orb. Deeper and deeper into the patterns she fell, forgetting where she was and what she was here for.”

“Morgan watched in shock as her friend fell, all of her anger draining out of her. She knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was ragged, as though he had to fight for every gulp of air he took.”

“Morgan's temper flared again, and she raised the staff again, intent on beating the answers out of him if she had to. "You used to be a chosen, too - I know you were. These were your friends, too, and now they're dying. Don't you care?”

“Morgan and Tilson looked at each other. Wit a shrug, Morgan put her shoulder against the cage and shoved. As the cage bounced down the steps, Morgan and Tilson ran after it.”

“Most humans, they seem to prattle on about this and that, not even really seeming to care about what they are saying so long as someone is listening.”