Snow kept pouring through the wound in the mountain.
The two of them stood in the wreck of the chamber they had just rearranged, daylight washing in on one side and the dim flicker of mana crystals holding the other, the air between them strung with threads no eye could follow. Neither had given a step of ground. That, more than the broken wall, was what kept the room from easing.
Moses hefted the greatsword and rested it across one armored shoulder. The blade was too large for so careless a posture, yet he carried it as if its weight had finally remembered who owned it.
"Annoying is not the same as dangerous."
"It is, if you ignore it long enough."
"Do I look like a man who ignores danger?"
"You look like a man who finds danger rude when it refuses to die quickly."
Moses bared his teeth. "That was almost fond."
"Do not get sentimental."
