Abia’s attempt at jolting Cang with cold having failed, the magic fades from her fingers. She lets her hand fall to her side, as she watches Cang fill his overloaded pockets, sacks, pouches. Each is already fat with stone, but he fills them all the same, letting sand and grit run over their mouths and spill back onto the earth.
With a grimace, Abia wills more energy into her hand. Her nerves are wracked with pain as they twist and chill. She feels a corrupt mass flare up within her brain but pushes aside the sensation to focus on freezing her fingers.
When the spell is at last, painfully cast, Abia grabs up a few choice stones and offers them hesitantly to Cang, like a meal for a cat. He spots the stones and appears delighted, trotting over to accept them. Abia’s frozen hand hovers, ready to strike.
a sprawling place, abia, cang, cold, fassn, fiction, logan bright, sadness, shyan, truth, works, writing exercise,