The Rossem Project is close to success, and will allow a hand picked expedition to explore other worlds, searching for the threat that faces the planet Tharia, but as they begin their mission they discover that there are many other threats out there...
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Thomas materialised twelve feet above the ground.
He had just enough time for his eyes to register huge towers of greenery reaching up around him like vertical jungles above a carpet of dense, impenetrable forest and then he was falling. His last sensation was that of Parcellius's hand being torn out of his and the sound of someone's horrified, hopeless scream. He hit the ground hard and heard the brittle sound of his leg breaking, and then his head hit a lump of fallen rubble and everything exploded in pain...
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Consciousness returned slowly. He was vaguely aware of low, concerned voices coming from somewhere nearby, and he was encouraged to recognise Matthew, but he couldn't tell what he was saying. Only that he sounded worried. So, at least Matt's survived, he thought, and at least one other person, for him to be talking to someone, but what about the rest?
There was a pounding pain in his head that made it difficult to think, but he was able to remember that they'd appeared above ground. They could just as easily have materialised below ground, or within a solid object. Teleporting blind, he thought in wonder. We teleported blind, without even a look in a scrying mirror at our destination! Without even a clear idea in our heads about where we were going, except that it be the surface of the planet! His mind reeled at the magnitude of the risk they'd taken, and at how lucky they were to be alive. Some of them, at least.
Then Matthew saw that he was awake and hurried over to his side. Thomas tried to focus on him, but he was suddenly finding it hard to remain awake. His eyelids were heavy and it took a real effort to keep them open. It would have been so good to just slip back to sleep. To just let go and drift away...
He knew he couldn't hide in unconsciousness any longer, though. Matthew's evident anxiety suggested that they were still in danger, in which case they'd need his help if they were to find a way home. He forced his eyes back open, therefore, and was greeted by the blurry, unfocused sight of Matthew's face peering down at him in concern.
"Tom!" he cried in joy. "Thank the Gods! You're okay!"
"Am I? Oh good." He made himself lie still for a few moments longer, knowing that he'd be overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness and nausea if he tried to sit up too soon. This wasn't the first time he'd recovered consciousness after a blow to the head, after all. It was something with which he had some experience. He gave himself a count to ten, therefore, but black spots still swam before his eyes as he slowly and painfully raised himself up on one elbow. That couldn't be helped. They'd go away in time.
"Tom!" said the soldier again. "We've got to move. We can't stay here. Do you think you can get up?"
Getting up was the last thing on his mind. All he wanted to do was lie there for the rest of the day. Perhaps several days. If Matt said he had to get up, though... He made the effort, using his legs to push himself up, and that was when he remembered that one of them was broken as a lance of pain shot through it. He cried out, but Matthew's hand was suddenly across his mouth while he looked fearfully across to his right.
