Everybody's vision slowly began to clear.
The violent sensation of being ripped apart and stitched back together faded little by little until colors finally returned to their eyes. For several seconds none of them moved. They simply laid there on the unfamiliar ground while their minds struggled to catch up with what had just happened. The portal journey had been unlike anything they had ever experienced before. It wasn't like flying. It wasn't like teleporting. It felt as if reality itself had grabbed hold of them and dragged them through a space where directions no longer existed. Up, down, left, right—none of it had meaning inside that endless sea of white light.
Leonid was the first to sit upright.
Irina followed shortly after while Tatiana pushed herself onto her elbows, her head still spinning slightly. Mary and the other two witches looked far worse. Their faces were pale and drenched with sweat, their breathing noticeably heavier than everyone else's.
