Meanwhile, the camp was transforming into a psychic fortress. Marcus had drawn protective glyphs on every palisade. The air itself seemed denser, charged with an electric anticipation. The soldiers whispered. The name "Source-Gate" circulated, distorted into "Death-Gate" or "Shadow-Gate."
Maggie, now sufficiently recovered, was looking for him. She found him near the stone circle, watching the horizon.
"Is it true?" she asked, without preamble. "That a thing from the shadows is seeking you?"
Dylan nodded. "Not from the shadows. From the Source. It's different."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Everything is dangerous, Maggie. Staying here is just as dangerous."
She looked at him, really looked, as if she were seeing for the first time the shadows dancing in his eyes. "You're not the same anymore."
"No."
"Do you want to be the same again?"
