Killing Fomor

A few yards down the line from her, a block of enemy troops fifty yards deep and thirty yards across abruptly contorted—and then they just died, falling like broken puppets. One moment, chaos raged. The next, there was a sudden block of absolute stillness and silence.
The Blackstaff strode into the vacuum, Ebenezar McCoy in the fullness of his power, the left side of his body buried in a shadow so deep that it had to be taken on faith that he still had that half of his body at all.

Battle Ground Chapter 32, Page 307


She focused on me for a second. Then, longer, on the Archive. But then her eyes settled on my grandfather. On the Blackstaff in his left hand. Something about it seemed to stoke the furnace of her rage.
“Little boys should not play with adult tools,” the Titan snarled.
The old man’s answer was to raise the Blackstaff, shadow engulfing his head and shoulders, and to make a sweeping, beckoning gesture.
The front rank of the line of Fomor troopers died in their tracks, clattering to the ground.

Battle Ground Chapter 32, Page 308