Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 209
Turcaret backed away. "How have you done this?"
Chan huddled against the closed door, gasping. His
whole upper body was covered in blood. This was not going to
be the clean kill Brendan Sheia had demanded. There was no
way Chan would appear to have been killed by Yuri’s dying
blow. Maybe it could be made to look like more of a fight had
taken place, but they had wanted to avoid that because the
question would be raised why no one had heard anything. But
the man would not die!
Chan turned now and uncovered his eyes. He might have
been vulnerable there, but Turcaret had not thought of it in
time. Chan’s face was transformed. The skin around his mouth
was pure white, and his eyes were wide. He was shaking, but
not, it seemed, from fear.
"Help," Turcaret said under his breath. Then he
screamed it.
"Get in here and help me!"
Jordan was no longer sure where he was. When the wall
spoke to him he'd bolted, and came to himself briefly to find
himself here outside on the front lawn of the estate. He tried to
keep going, to somehow escape the noise in his head, but only
made it fifty steps before he went blind again. He could see-with
a clarity which was itself frightening--but no longer
through his own eyes.
The spirits surrounding him were handing vision back
and forth, like a ball. All the parts of the Boros estate had their
spirits, it seemed, and each kind of thing perceived the world in
a different way. They were all speaking at once, looking about
themselves, as though awoken from an ages-long sleep to find
themselves startled by the world.
Something had awoken them. Something was coming.