Fist

	I didn’t mean it. Honestly. But I was angry. And, as I may have mentioned, I’m not always good at channeling words of power. While I was in the crocodile’s belly, I’d been preparing to summon the Fist of Horus: a giant glowing blue hand that can pulverize doors, walls and pretty much anything else that gets in your way. My plan had been to punch my way out of the monster. Gross, yes, but hopefully effective.
...
	As soon	as I spoke the word, the symbol	blazed in the air between us. A	giant fist the size of a dishwasher shimmered into existence and slammed Camper Boy into the next county. I mean I literally punched him out of his shoes. He rocketed from the river with a loud suck-plop! And the last thing I saw was his bare feet achieving escape velocity as he flew backwards and disappeared from sight.