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The wind shifted and launched them skyward. The roots twisted to meet them, a thousand barbs bared to impale. In an imperceptibly quick slash, the roots fell apart and Sloan and Winnipeg passed through a clean and blustery channel, a perfectly tubular passageway carved by Winnipeg's magic. The bramble corrected for its newfound cavity but by the time its immense multifaceted body even began to move they had burst back above the archon.

(Chapter 11)