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- On a whim, he reached out and tried to touch her, only to find his finger going through her arm. An illusion. These pixies were maintaining this illusion somehow; looking at them more closely, he saw how each of them glowed one by one, each maintaining the illusion just long enough for the others to recover, and relaying into each other with perfect coordination.
- [...]
- The arrow never wavered, never flickered; he could have sworn his soul to the Druids themselves that it was a solid object, if he didn’t know any better. This kind of coordination went beyond mere training. It was almost like these dungeon monsters were guided by a single mind.
- A single mind whose owner he had seen.
- [...]
- The arrow led him to a flight of stairs, which took him into an insect level. Mercifully, the exit of that level was close, but even here the minions displayed miraculous coordination. Lesser ants and beetles moved what looked like a wax trap door out of his way. There was a constant droning of buzzing wings that came from a hole in the ceiling that was lined with spider web. A jumping spider looked down at him from that hole with large hungry eyes, but did not attack.
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