she feels the whisper-man fling itself after , but she is running , running , running , and there is the black mirror , rushing for her face as the pain flares between her eyes and the galaxy pendant seems to explode against her chest , as hot and dazzling as a nova-and there is light , a wide blinding bolt that shoots from the pendant , unfurling itself in a path : light that is so strong and steady and sure , it 's as if she 's running on a bright , unerring seam .