Chapter 33

The humidity of this backwater world was a physical weight against Lucas Terror's skin. He sat behind a desk of polished obsidian, staring out through the open arches of his unfinished palace at the pulsating red column of the Breach. It had been less than a week since the transition, and he was already sick of the air, the greenery, and the persistent, chirping sounds of the local fauna. He adjusted the collar of his silk tunic, which felt damp despite the cooling enchantments woven into...