Mina Vance took a single step forward across the sticky flagstones, azure frost flaring around the hem of her embroidered robes.
She did not draw a weapon. She simply extended her right hand, spreading her slender fingers toward the writhing mass of molasses and barbed iron.
A wave of pale blue cold swept down the hallway.
The sticky black syrup instantly crystallized into brittle, sugary ice. The twenty Void-Walker Assassins froze solid where they lay, their contorted limbs locked within a glassy block of permafrost that reached from wall to wall.
Only their heads were left exposed above the ice, their eyes rolling in sheer panic.
Sera Thorne stepped into the frozen corridor. With swift, practiced motions, she bent down and smashed the twenty Sovereign Echo Conches with the iron butt of her storm-pike.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
