A beam of pure white heat lanced downward and struck Benjamin dead center.
For an instant the street was illuminated brighter than noon. The beam's energy converted flesh, cloth, and bone into superheated vapor.
Where Benjamin had been, only a shimmering column of ultra-heated gas remained, rising and dispersing into the air.
The stone pavement beneath the point of impact glowed cherry-red and began to crack.
Silence followed.
Everyone stood motionless, and every sense stretched outward. Eyes scanned rooftops, alley mouths, shattered windows. Magical perception swept the area in overlapping waves, searching for the faintest trace of life or residual power.
[I know that the incineration spell is extremely powerful,] Sekhmet sent at last, her mental voice low and wary. [But there is no way it ends this easily.]
The others offered no argument.
They had already shifted fully into silent communication, unwilling to risk spoken words that might give away position or intention.
