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Yes, freezing would work.
    The golem was mud, after all…
    Once I had the idea, all I had to do was execute it. Unfortunately, what I wanted to do took way more focus and power than I’d thought it would. So the moment I went in – seeking out all of those fat, lovely water molecules holding the dirt together and making it mud – I lost control of the golem. It took another haka-step forward, and both Ryu and I stumbled, then dove out of the way as a light pole snapped and fell from right above, threatening to crush us. I lost my grip on the golem’s water, and it took another step, even as a dark shape hurtled down from the sky at Ryu.
    Graeme shouted exultantly, no doubt some command for the golem, and I decided I’d had enough.
    Clambering to my feet, using the labrys as a crutch, I sent one arc of power that knocked the harpy out of the air seconds before her taloned feet found Ryu’s throat.
    With another wave of power, I clumsily, if effectively, pushed Graeme over, shields and all. And then I went for the golem.
    Instead of pulling the water out of it, I focused on its chemical structure. It took only a few tweaks, and a fair bit of the creature’s mojo, and suddenly it froze.
    And I mean froze – its water turned to ice; it couldn’t move. Like a great frozen turd, it squatted smack in the center of Rockabill’s Main Street. It’d take a while for it to thaw.
    Ryu was up and engaged in a firefight with the downed harpy. Caught on her two feet, rather than in the air, she was severely handicapped and I knew that fight would be short.
    Which left Graeme up to me.
    The incubus had gotten to his feet, looking dazed, when I struck.
    My first blast peeled away his outermost defensive shields with a surge of power so raw, so undiluted, that even I was surprised by it. But as if some other Jane – some Rambo Jane – were in control, I struck again instantly.
    Another raw flood of power kept Graeme from reforming his shields, even as I started chipping away at his stronger inner shields. They were no match for my fury.
    For being angry with someone was one thing. But being angry with someone because they’d been part of a process that took everything from you … that was another thing entirely. I’d never wanted to destroy something as badly as I wanted to destroy Graeme, in that instant. He’d been such a nemesis for me, but it wasn’t just because of all our past encounters that I wanted to squash him like an insect. It was because he’d helped take away my Anyan, and helped replace my lover with someone who sent mud-people to kill me.
    He’d also helped kill my friend.
    At the thought of Blondie, I suddenly saw her, lying on the funeral pyre before it was lit. It was like a rage bomb went off inside me, and if I thought I was strong before, I was now ruthless in my strip-mining of every available ounce of power around me.
    The blasts that I’d been keeping aimed at Graeme had never ceased, but now they were coming twice as fast, and with twice as much fury.
    [Careful, young one,] the creature warned. But despite the emotional storm raging inside me, I knew what I was doing.
    I acknowledged the creature’s thought with an unvoiced response of my own, even as I broke through Graeme’s inner shields. That left only his personal defenses – the thin skin of mojo we all wore around ourselves as a last resort.
    I had them down in seconds.
    By that point I was nearly on top of him, having strode forward with each carefully timed blast. So when I peeled away that last layer of shield, pushing him to his knees as I did so, I was able to get right up in Graeme’s grill.
    It was time to send a message.
    I took a page from Anyan himself as I sent my power out like a hand, taking a viselike grip on Graeme’s throat. His eyes widened as I squeezed, ever so slowly.
    When he was blue and wheezing, I spoke.
    ‘You’re going to take home a message for me, you shit,’ I said, letting up just enough on Graeme’s