Zoe POV

I watch my own arm swing.

The warrior in front of me doesn't have time to brace before he hits the wall. I feel the impact through my knuckles—not my choice, not my aim—and then Freya is already moving to the next one, and the next, and I am somewhere slightly behind my own eyes watching it happen.

Two more warriors go down. Then a third, staggering back with his hand pressed to his face.

And then the door fills with bodies.

They come from the ...