"What'd you used to be?" They sweep around the edges of the dance floor in a waltz, and it occurs to Neal that Luka is getting all the steps right.

For a second, as they get near the crowd, there's something else, too. For a second it feels like Neal can see an odd, infinite space between the close-pressed bodies of their watchers. Their many, many watchers. Even where they almost touch, there's a gap deep and broad enough to fall through and never hit the bottom.

He shakes his head, a little dizzy, and looks back up at Luka. "I'm detecting the Balkan peninsula, or environs close to?"