She murmured a brief comment about how much easier this affair would be if she could use water, but then her concentration returned, and with a force of will, as if she were trying to move a giant boulder, she made a last push to give the scalpel its form.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she sighed. Her pressure had been released, and yet the flames kept their form. It wasn't any impressive-looking piece by any means. It was simple enough looking, just like the hammer that she'd made, but at least now it was a solid piece of pure condensed purple. Flames no longer rose up out of it.
"Hold him," she told Northy.
Hesitantly, Northy reached out to do what he was asked. Vagrin could not have looked weaker. With the amount of blood that he'd left on the bench, it was a surprise that he wasn't dead already.
