Hector looked up to see that he was being ignored. And for good reason, too.
Asad was no longer on the ground. Rather, he seemed to be running on thin air, and it took Hector a second to notice the barely visible platforms beneath him. They didn’t even touch the ground. The platforms were already moving in midair when Asad stepped on them, pushing him upward or outward or any which way he desired while the Lord Najir showered his opponents with an endless storm of glassy spears. So many at once, Hector saw, crashing down through the heavy rain and sticking into the pavement or shattering against each other.
It was all the Blackburns could do to weather the attack. Fidel’s copper cage could hardly keep up with all the holes Asad was carving into it; Silvia had to focus on exploding the spears before they reached and skewered her; and Sabas appeared to have turned his whole body into a metal statue, sealing his own movement in exchange for making the quartz blades break ineffectually against his body.
Titanium transfiguration, Hector recalled from Sabas’ file. Not the deadliest power but one that made him particularly difficult to kill, and if he was allowed to provide cover or a distraction for the other two, then it could be very problematic.
At the moment, however, Asad seemed to have the situation rather well in hand.
Jada had moved away from the battle and was now standing by behind a madega, busying herself with her firearms. Plural, Hector realized. He’d only seen the one handgun before, but she’d apparently been keeping a whole armory beneath her robe. The grenades especially caught his attention.
Hector still wasn’t sure what her power was. Garovel had asked, but for whatever reason, the Najirs had kept that information to themselves. The reliance on firearms perhaps suggested destruction type, but now was not the time to be giving the matter more thought.
Soon, the Blackburns were buried in a mound of shattered quartz. But they were certainly not dead yet, and now Asad’s own glass was in his way, so he let up on his attack and began dematerializing his work.
The Blackburns, of course, saw this as their opportunity to counterattack, and likewise, Asad seemed to predict as much. He leapt off his platform and grabbed a glassy handle that was already in motion, and for a brief moment, the man was flying--pulled quickly forward via the handle’s momentum.