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... rew short of breath as my lungs worked in rapid, short bursts. I was reluctant to draw in too much of the repugnant scent and what atmosphere I managed to inhale seemed thin of oxygen. The space in front of the cathedral was an empty field of flat, wet dirt; gray in color and flecked with spots of dark blue. Combined with the awful smell, it reminded me of used kitty litter. It was even damp and clumpy.

The surface of the cathedral had the color and texture of pitted charcoal, with spire ...

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She held on tightly to the base of the herb and pulled its roots right out of the ground, before she turned her eyes back with a crafty smile. “It’s mine now. Snatch it from me if you can.”

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