In the banquet square, chaos had erupted.

Mix, one of the Nellings guards, dropped to his knees with a strangled gasp. His body convulsed, muscles rippling as though something coiled beneath his skin. Veins darkened to indigo, spreading like ink through glass. His eyes rolled white, then flared with a cold, oceanic glow.

The air warped around him. A low hum rose, vibrating through the air, and the scent of salt and brine thickened in every breath. His back arched, bones lengthening, spine ...