It was difficult to explain what it was like to be on the other side of what she called the veil. To begin with, the very definition—while descriptive—wasn’t accurate. Going there wasn’t like pulling aside a curtain (or cutting it with a sword) and stepping through so much as it was traveling in an entirely new direction. Putting that into words was a little like trying to explain up to someone who only knew left-right and forward-back, so instead she used terminology that was more at home in legend and mysticism. Traveling the Earth while using this new direction was simple, and fast because time and space were much more flexible. In the veil, to get to where she wanted to be, she could walk, and jump, and be there in an instant of veil-time. In the world outside the veil, she had to take a bus. It was unpleasant. The bus moved in fits and starts and spat out black clouds so routinely it had to be an indication of its proper function rather than a grievous manufacturing error. The best that could be said was that it was not full; the rush of the morning commute had already passed by the time Eve got out of bed and showered and put on clothing.
