Hesitant as they were, the others could do nothing but follow their commander. When they saw Ed's shadow moving smoothly under the ice—arms cutting the dark water, body straight and sure—they found the courage to jump.
One after another they dove through the steaming hole the mages had opened, letting the frigid lake swallow their fear. It was better than being frozen into statues. It was better than being stabbed to death by a swarm of rattling bones.
Gerald, already barking orders while he moved, understood the plan at a glance. "Retreat! Dive! Follow Ed!" he shouted, waving the last stragglers toward the gap. Then he leaped, armor and all, vanishing beneath the surface with a hard splash.
Not everyone followed.
Some players could not swim. No amount of yelling could change that. They stayed on the ice, white-faced and shaking, and the skeleton tide embraced them. Their forms broke into light under a forest of spears and hammers.
