“He is not beyond my reach,” Amelia intoned, and then she saw it. She saw the world seemingly shift, and the entire section of the room Amelia was facing seemed to vibrate, up and down, shaking violently, but nothing moved, nothing was put out of place despite the violence of the motion. The sense of wrongness intensified, as if an awful crime was being committed that ought not to be, that shouldn’t be. It grew and grew to the point where it seemed as if multiple instances of the corner and everything near it existed in the same place at the same time, just out of synch with each other. Yet still nothing was out of place, no magical arcs of energy sparked nor flew. The markings at Amelia’s feet remained nothing more than some scratches in the wood.