The guildhall fired before Sivra could raise an empty hand.
Green light ran along its outer wings. Its first discharge did not cross the distance as a bolt. It opened into a fan of silver hooks, each one curving toward the fixed call beneath Myrn's shoulder.
Myrn dropped her sound wing, and rain and road rolled sideways. Jiang flattened against her neck as the party swung beneath the saddle. Hest's boots tore loose from one brace. Valea snagged the back of his coat with a wrapped barb and slammed both of them against the harness.
One silver hook passed through the space where Jiang's head had been.
Another struck the black plate without piercing. Green veins spread across the guild mark, and the copied note rose until Jiang felt it in the split of his beak.
