“Shh,” said X!’tua. “An outpost of accordion trees. Up ahead.”

Gr;6if parted the fronds of newspaper-and-avocado bushes quietly, observing the deadly bellows hanging limply from the boughs of several palms, like polka coconuts. “Think we can sneak around them?”

X!’tua did not like the look of the pile of bones beneath them; he saw the skeletons of a human, a soda pop can, and a participle lying there, bones bleached. “We have to try. The Reality Tsunami isn’t going to undo itself.”

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