Evelyn rolled her eyes; Annisa was hopeless. However, whatever she was saying during her commune with the snails was doing something: the ground beneath them started to shake. She grabbed Annisa’s arm, causing her to shout, “Hey! What are you doing? I wasn’t fini–”
Annisa ended her sentence in a gasp of air as she finally looked around to see why Evelyn had grabbed her. The landscape around them was changing; the buildings were gone and the snails, along with their statuesque perch, were disappearing. Everything was spinning and below them, a vortex had appeared.
“Is that a farm?” Evelyn was astonished, not so much by what she saw but by the fact that she would recognize a farm outside of a picture book. She was so much a girl of the cities and suburbs.
Annisa’s voice was distant. “I hope not, because it’s harvest preparation and sacrifice time.”