I was so absorbed in my conversation with Beatrice that I had completely forgotten about the real battle raging around us.
My eyes snapped to the left.
And the first thing I saw was terrifying.
Dozens of wooden hands had erupted from the ground. Massive structures reaching toward the sky like ancient towers. Each one rivaled the size of Zenos's most devastating tornado.
But every single one of them stood motionless. Frozen in place.
Because all of their fingers had been severed clean off.
I found Thalia. Her face was painted with pure panic. Beside her, Lady Aerin wore an expression I had never seen on her divine features before. Genuine seriousness.
As for Leena, her other summon, she was nowhere to be found.
Thalia's gaze was fixed on the sky.
I followed it.
There, perched atop the tallest wooden hand whose fingers lay scattered below, was a small golden speck. Freya's knight. Ashen.
He wasn't moving. Wasn't attacking. Wasn't even preparing for another strike.
