As soon as he did, she heard men shouting and women screaming beneath the earsplitting screech of the fire alarm. A crackling sound drowned out the hiss of water spraying from the ceiling, but she saw no flames or smoke in the air. As she came around the corner she had to swerve to avoid a huge cage of jagged glass. Inside, three people huddled on the floor, their clothes covered with what looked like white flour. Their teeth chattered as they held on to each other and called for help. All around the gallery the guests were caught in a dozen other identical cages. “Hold on. We’ll get you out.” Chris grabbed the bars, and the cold, slick bars stung her palms. She pulled her hands away and stared at the water on them. The cages weren’t made of glass, but ice. Robin looked up. “It’s the water from the fire sprinkler system,” he told her, his mouth tight. “The spray has been frozen.” Chris saw a thick column of ice at the top of each cage attached to the metal heads of the sprinklers in the ceiling.
