[i]Zande, oddly enough, had seen something like that before. Not the ink magic, but the way she positioned herself. It was what an earth mage did before a stalagmite went straight up your asshole, or quicksand sucked you down. Point is that something was being channeled into the ground, and remaining there would suck most royally. Zande was a lunatic, not a fool. He'd make a great leap over straight over the spreading pattern of ink with the speed of a startled cat. His left axe would thunder down with such apocalyptic vehemence that the strike might damn near hack the woman into two pieces, from the left clavicle down past the chest cavity.[/i]