Cirrus@Austlit

'Stanis felt the first warning sign in the soles of his feet. The earthen floor of the kitchen trembled, as though with the twitch of a mighty worm. Out here, on the arid edge of the settled lands, such movements weren't uncommon: wraiths ruled in the wilderness. The minor disturbance wasn't anything his wards couldn't handle; he and the earth had an understanding, after all. But there was more to this sensation than an earth wraith scratching an itch. On the bench, the morning's milk lay curdled in the pail, turned in the time it had taken him to wash his face. There were no flies.' (Introduction)