The wall ceded so readily against the push of her magic that Pithy started when the tiles slammed back against the floor, leaving the way unimpeded. In hindsight, it was easy to see the purpose to this less than lethal experiment, something that became even clearer when the voice chimed in with the conclusions it had drawn. 

Had the voice’s tests all been such simple explorations of its own power’s nature, the sorceress might have even inclined to participate of her own will. 

[i]It is a shame then, that this one has seen fit to test me as well. That I will not welcome, much less at the risk of my life.[/i] She strode forward at that, once again seeking her objective. 

[i]There. That must be the entrance Nero spoke of.[/i]

“That's one of my last questions answered,” the source of her grievances continued, prompting Pithy to hasten her pace. She had a good idea where this one-sided conversation would lead. “I suppose all that's left is a proper send-off: a brute-force test for both you and me. Let's see now...”

She had barely reached the center of the kitchen when the cooking implements that had formed the sides of the wall suddenly came to life again, spinning outwards to bar her way. Other objects lifted off from nearby tables and stoves, including the knives and cutting boards with their assembled ingredients. Pithy hesitated as even the pots she had used to lower the wall were lifted from the opposite end of the room to join the swirling cocoon of metal that hovered around her.

Her eye narrowed as the metallic instruments clattered against each other. There were only so many ways the situation could develop. [i]Please do not let a spark ignite the gas yet…[/i]

The lone icicle she had held back until then sped outwards, crashing against the wall of steel. A pan broke, handle snapping off against the blow. The pieces rejoined the wall in the following moment, but Pithy had already moved on to her next spell. A blast of frigid wind crashed against the steel in front of her, sending the debris flying backward, but the hole quickly filled in again.

She could jump through, she thought. If she timed it well enough, she could blast an opening and make a beeline for the exit. [i]Only I’ll find it locked, with a wall of metal at my back because I would not play the game set before me.[/i]

The debris suddenly halted in the air. It sped towards her. Her stomach lurched.

The spell that formed in her mind was as much conscious thought as it was panicked reaction, as a powerful vortex blasted outwards in all directions. The discs of ice she had held aloft until that moment slipped her sorcerous grasp, the blast pushing them away as it did the surrounding avalanche. While the ice simply clattered out of sight, however, the metal simply slowed, as though they were objects reaching an arc in their flight before they fell back to the earth.

Pithy knelt, one hand reflexively reaching for the rose-shaped clasp of her robe. 

[i]I need a barrier.[/i] But could she form a strong enough shield before all this weight fell over her? Her magic had been bleeding enough cold into the air that the spell would come readily, but if she misjudged the pressure, if her hasty construction faltered before she could fortify it— 

The cocoon began to converge once again, and Pithy realized the argument was mute. The barrier would not be complete if she began now. [i]Another blast, then? No—[/i]

She fell to her knees as she curled up, hood falling over her head. In the back of her mind she wondered if the owner of the voice could see her figure under the deluge of cooking implements, as if prostrating herself in the face of that assault. 

[i]How insulting,[/i] she thought, shamefully. Those were the last words that passed through her mind before every light from the outside was blocked by the avalanche.

The clatter of crashing metal drowned out the quiet click of her hood’s clasp, and just as quickly swallowed the light coming from her rapier’s sigils.

The cocoon contracted, swallowing the woman inside. The objects pressed together, the presence of the one underneath it outlined by a small, circular hill. 

One could imagine the curled figure underneath if they but looked at it, back bent, shoulders drooping under the pressure. Yet if that was the shape it hid, perhaps the incline was too circular for that.

The metal shifted, implements clattering against one another as the hill began to rise. Or expand, rather. As the metal spread out, the vibrant blue of the elf’s fabric peeked from under the steel. It was soon followed by the reflective light of frozen crystal as the dome expanded. The wall of ice continued to grow, the hexagonal plates that formed it growing even as they pushed outwards, steadily rising against the pressure exerted by the entity possessing the metal.

In but seconds, the structure had grown large enough for someone to stand inside it. 

At that moment, it shuddered, the plates shivering in place. Rather than crumple, however, they rose outwards like an umbrella being blown inside out, the crystal suddenly rising and enveloping the debris that had until then single-mindedly pressed against it, trapping it against the ceiling. There was a crackling noise as the ice touching the ceiling thickened at its base, and the seams between the plates fused together, fixing the shape of the structure. 

Pithy glared at the inverted barrier from below, one hand raised high as if to touch the ice. After a moment of this, her hand lowered. She let out a long breath, willing her trembling fingers to still themselves. The headache that came from the constant pressure against her barrier, she ignored, though her rapier’s guard continued to glow in her other hand. 

That armor she had prepared under her robe had come into play rather differently from how she had expected. 

Perhaps if she had not been as hesitant to unveil her magic, her cloak, along with the rose-shaped brooch that adorned the clasp, would not had been trapped inside the dome. She almost felt naked without it, the harness with the six-shooter, as well as the knives and phylactery strapped to her belt, exposed for all to see. It gave her the inexplicable sensation that she was displaying something unsightly.

[i]Will I be able to return for it?[/i] 

“For your sake, I pray your lectures are not as aggravating,” she commented dryly, affecting calm. “Am I free to fetch that idiot?”

She gave the kitchen — now oddly bare — a cursory glance, stopping as she found the exit she had sought. 

She found it unlikely at this point, but if Nero and the voice were indeed collaborating, this would be a good time to spring a trap on her. Not that the voice could not have done that earlier, had it not been as obvious with its attempts at attacking her as it had been so far. 

It was a chilling thought. So far, she had been warned and given the chance to react to most every threat. [i]Had the voice’s owner wanted nothing from me, I would have likely met my end at the doorstep.[/i] If his efforts truly shifted towards killing her, she was not certain she could defend herself.

She hesitated, then approached the opening.