Inside, Kyle felt the change in the energy rhythms. The copper wheel was vibrating. Soon its vibration would spread to the other wheels and unravel the entire ritual. He was just reaching out mystically to strengthen it when, with a loud bell tone, it shattered. The others quickly followed suit in a blinding cascade of color and sound. Kyle braced for the psychic backlash, but it was only minimal when it came, easily countered by his training. He restored his physical senses as half the paper with Mitchell Truman's name on it drifted slowly to the floor, smoking. The name had been divided cleanly in two.