Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 224
He came up against the door, which had popped open.
The stairs leading down appeared quite unscathed. A last
glance back showed Axel that other giant arms had landed on
the grounds and by the stables, in a rough circle around the
main building. They were eating the trees.
Axel wailed and fell through the open door.
Calandria sorted herself out of the tangle of lead triangles
and glass flinders on which she had landed. She had never
read of, seen or VR’d someone jumping through a leaded glass
window before; it had turned out to be a lot more difficult than
she had expected.
It had taken two tries, but she was on the ground now.
Poor August was still upstairs, but there was only so much she
could do. She rolled to her feet, rubbing blood out of her eyes.
Madness had fallen from the sky. She had a perfect view
of the grounds from here in the bushes by the front steps of the
manor. People were running back and forth, trying in equal
numbers to get into and out of the house. An aerostat hovered
over the estate, visible in the light of fires that were springing
up all over. Calandria stared at it for a moment, then shook her
head to clear the muddle of half-thoughts that filled it. Bits of
glass flew from her hair.
A deep crash sounded from inside the manor; the front
doors flew open, and a waft of dust blew out. There was no
going back in there--but she had to find Axel. She bounced on
the balls of her feet for a moment, debating whether to use
radio to contact him.
A huge metal arm plowed into the earth a hundred meters
away. Its end flopped there for a second or two, then split into
a hundred bright threads, which coiled outward. Each thread-which
must be a motile cable as thick as her body--bent and