A sudden crack of blue frost echoed across the porch decking as Mina Vance took a step forward.
Frost-rime hummed along the silver ribbons woven through her dark braids. Her small leather boots left intricate flower-shaped ice patterns on the cedar planks with every step she took.
Sera turned toward the young girl, her amber eyes widening slightly in the warm lantern light.
“Mina?” Sera asked, lowering the silk dispatch scroll. “Your meridians are vibrating.”
“The bottleneck loosened when I froze the dam’s keystone,” Mina said, her voice trembling with barely suppressed spiritual power. “The hydrostatic backpressure forced my glacial core to spin backward. It feels like an iceberg is trying to crack open inside my lower abdomen.”
Barnaby Holt hurried over from the kitchen passage, wiping his flour-dusted hands on his apron.
“I have hot noodle soup ready!” Barnaby offered, gesturing toward three steaming clay bowls on the counter. “Thick wheat noodles with pickled turnip slices and shredded pork!”
“Soup will have to wait,” Kaelen Vance said, glancing up from his teacup.
