“They were instantly bathed in sweat.And this is dawn! thought Jason, head spinning, as he gasped at the almost unbreatheably stifling air. What is it going to be like with the sun up?The combination was almost too much for Jason and Mondrago, veterans though they were. It was entirely too much for Chantal Frey, who had had only one experience of time travel. She collapsed to the sand. Mondrago was promptly at her side, helping her to her feet.“Thank you,” she gasped, and tried to manage a smile.... “I’ll be all right.”“That’ll make one of us,” grunted Mondrago. He looked north, at the bay on whose opposite shore was the tiny village of Liguanea, where Kingston, Jamaica, was soon to be founded as a refugee camp for earthquake survivors. The sun was just peeking over the hills to the east, turning the dawn from violet to blue, and it shone on water that was so absolutely still as to resemble a pane of glass. “Earthquake weather,” he stated succinctly.They stood on the Palisadoes, the long, narrow peninsula—glorified sand spit, really—which separated Kingston Harbor (as it would come to be called) from the Caribbean Sea to the south, and at whose western end Port Royal stood.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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