The gloves Ghastly had made for her were the same as Skulduggery’s, meaning she could click her fingers to generate a spark or feel the air to move an object. But for something like water, an element she hadn’t spent much time practising with, she needed a bare hand. She took off her right glove, the cold closing round her skin and robbing it of its warmth. She did her best to ignore all that, and focused on making the compacted snow under her boots roll backwards like a wave. But nothing happened. The dynamics were totally different than with free-flowing water. She gritted her teeth and poured her magic into it, and the snow surged, whipping her feet out from under her.