A silver streak pierced the falling ice before the heavy blood-axes could reach the canvas awning.
The star-iron tip of Storm-Pike screamed against descending steel, deflecting Elder Gao’s eighty-pound blade with a shower of white sparks. Sera Thorne pivoted on her heels, using Gao’s crushing momentum to lever the heavy axe head down into the river gravel.
Elder Gao roared, his iron-shod boots skidding across the wet shale.
On the opposite flank of the wagon, Elder Wei lunged through the frozen mist. His blood-axe swung in a vicious horizontal arc aimed directly at Kaelen’s hammock.
Mina Vance was already moving.
She dropped from the cart bed into the shallow ravine stream, planting her small leather boots in the muddy silt. Her dark eyes flared pale cerulean as she slammed both palms onto the surface of the rushing water.
A wave of sub-zero cold exploded from her small palms.
The murky stream flash-froze into jagged, six-inch-thick black ice with a violent, cracking roar. The frost climbed Elder Wei’s iron greaves in an instant, cementing both boots four inches deep into solid frozen bedrock.
