"Nothing is impossible," Veylara said softly.
With a casual twist of her wrist, Veylara crushed the solid stone head of the mattock into fine gravel. In the same fluid, terrifying motion, the tip of her spear flashed forward like a beam of pure sunlight.
PUNCH-CRUNCH.
The spearhead drove cleanly through Skal's hide cuirass, punching through his breastbone and bursting out of his spine in a shower of dark, venomous blood.
The force of the thrust lifted him off the timber platform.
Veylara flicked her wrist, hurling him over the wooden railing.
He crashed into the stagnant canal below with a massive splash, his dark blood spreading rapidly across the murky surface, mixing with the already fouled water.
While Veylara dominated the platform, Sol moved through the western walkway with cold, unstoppable lethality.
