Not really. Imagine your entire body being stretched, loose and wobbly, and then snapping back and falling an infinite distance. You feel all this at once, and see everything there is to see, and then you hit the ground as if you were made of lead.Using my Weird always took a heavy toll. There was intense pressure in my skull, and my nose usually bled at least a bit. Mostly, though, I felt the echoes of the Gate inside me, the vastness of it, and it made me curl on the ground and lie very still until I realized I was being pelted by a light rain. I fished in my pack for my slicker.I raised my head, seeing low rolling hills bordered by stone walls, a small white farmhouse in the distance, and the cotton-wool sky overhead. I smelled earth and mud. It was spring in the Iron Land. I’d been gone for at least four months.That thought spurred me more than anything. I had to find out where I was and devise a way of getting home. My accuracy with the Gates wasn’t the best—I could generally hit close to a target, but sometimes I’d be radically off and have to try again and again before I stepped out where I meant to.This time I’d gotten only one try.
