I was sinking. The ground that I had assumed was solid stone beneath my feet was nothing of the sort. Harron’s blade had melted into a respectable amount of liquid metal, but the ground at my feet… the pool at my feet… was more silver than I had ever seen in my life, and it was hissing and spitting like an angry cat. It hadn’t been like this a moment ago. It had been solid. Now it was softening by the second. The roiling mass of it was already up to my ankles.
'Quicksilver' like quicksand.
