“Well done, my dear.” Then he was gone. But he didn’t go far enough. Thorn had her full attention on the bard, her supernatural senses keyed to any trace of his motion. Even as she felt the air rush in to fill the void in space, she felt a displacement to her left, just at the door to the chamber. It was an excellent trick. Not only did he teleport, but he’d wrapped himself in invisibility; the doorway seemed to be empty. But Thorn could feel his presence, and she let that instinct guide her as she threw Steel. Cadrel cried out in pain as the blade caught him in the back of the knee. Blood spattered across the floor as he returned to view, falling to the ground. Quickly Syraen was upon him. The winter lord wrapped one hand around Cadrel’s neck and lifted him off the ground. There was a sharp chill in the air, and ice formed around the bard—a layer of frost that grew and spread, becoming a coffin binding Cadrel, leaving only his head free. “What is this?” Tira said, her eyes flashing.
