The bottom of the cavern ceiling blew out with an enormous roar, as though a bucket full of grenades had just exploded next to it. The trickles of water became a rushing torrent that cascaded everywhere, and violet tremors shook the ground under my feet. Dust and dirt and rock zipped through the air like shrapnel. I dived to the ground and rolled back, back, back—away from Dawson, the two giants, and the stalactites that ringed the ceiling over their heads. My eyes latched onto a recess in the cavern wall, and I scrabbled over and into it. The space was just barely big enough to shield my body, but the rock here was harder than that above, which had been weakened by the water.

The stalactites that had been hanging overhead dropped to the ground like pointed guillotine blades. The first wave skewered the giant who’d been injured before, until he resembled some sort of oversize voodoo doll with a mass of rocky pins stuck in it. The second man got half a dozen steps back toward the mine entrance before one of the rock spears split his head open. I saw his blood hit the wall even through the spray of water, dust, and falling rock.

Tobias Dawson was smarter than his minions. Tougher too. Like me, he dived forward, avoiding most of the deadly stalactites. The dwarf bounced up onto his feet.

He saw me cowering in the recess, and his blue eyes narrowed in hate.

“I’ll kill you for this, bitch!” His roar echoed through the cavern even above the hiss of water and thunder of the splintered stones.

The dwarf ran in my direction, still dodging the falling rocks and cascading water. His blue eyes burned with magic. He stretched out his hands, ready to throw his power at me or to drag me out of the recess and into the falling debris. Probably both. The dwarf might survive the punishment of the ceiling collapse, but I wouldn’t.

My body wasn’t as tough and strong as his. I didn’t have my knives, so there was only one thing left I could do to fight him off.

This time, I threw my magic at him.

My Ice magic. It was all I had left. I’d exhausted the Stone to collapse the ceiling. So I focused on the water droplets flicking through the air in front of the charging dwarf, freezing and flinging them at Dawson. I was already weakened from the effort of drawing on so much magic, so instead of the knives I’d imagined, the droplets turned to shards of Ice that did little more than prick the dwarf ’s thick skin. It didn’t slow him down. Another few feet, and he’d be able to reach me. And then I’d get dead.

Determination rose inside me—cold, hard, unflinching.