THE HAYRICK EXPLODED in a swirl of straw and dust and squawking chickens. The yard dogs yelped and fled with their tails between their legs; the bull bellowed in his pen.
Gereint stood in the middle of the whirlwind, eye to eye with a shape as insubstantial as it was powerful. He had an impression of wings and fangs and eyes--a hundred eyes, each different from the next, and all fixed on him. Studying him. Reducing him to absolute insignificance.
God knew, he was used to that. "My apologies," he said as politely as he knew how. "I didn't mean to