blocks centipede

Yeah.
This was not what I'd had in mind when I got out of bed that morning.
The damned thing should have been slow. By every law of physics, by every right, a centipede that big should have been slow. Dinosauric. Elephantine.
But this was the Nevernever. You didn't play by the same rules here. Physics were sort of a guideline, and a very loose and elastic guideline at that. Here, the mind and heart had more sway than the material, and the big bug was fast. That enormous, predatory head shot at me like the engine of some psychotic locomotive, its killer jaws spreading wide.
Fortunately for me, I was, just barely, faster.
I brought forth my left hand, holding it out palm forth in a gesture of command and denial, a universal pose meaning one thing: Stop! Intent was important in this place. As the jaws closed, I brought up my spherical shield to meet it, the energy humming through my bracelet's charms, which burst into shining light as the magic coursing through them shone through the ephemeral substance of mere material metals.
The jaws closed with a crunch and a crash, and my bracelet flared even brighter. The shield exploded in more colors and shapes than a company of kaleidoscopes, and turned aside the beast's jaws - its strength, after all, was just one more bit of materially oriented power in an immaterial realm.


Changes Chapter 12, Page 105