Cliff hit

“No, you dolt!” He flicked two fingers in my direction. My shoes and socks were ripped off my feet and shot out of the water. The staff of Iris leaped from my hand and rocketed to the surface.
I was doing the ethical math here, trying to figure out if fighting a river god in his home river was a winnable situation, and if so, whether Iris would consider it “cruelty-free.” My guesses were no and no.
“Um . . . sorry about the shoes,” I said, as diplomatically as I could. “But I kind of need to clean that staff. Do you mind if I—?”
“Go after it?” Elisson asked. “Of course not.”
He flicked his fingers again, and this time I shot out of the water, slamming into the side of the cliff. I landed in a wet, groaning lump on a narrow ledge. Lying next to me, thankfully not broken, was Iris’s staff, still pretty grungy. My shoes were nowhere to be seen.
I sat up and rubbed my head. My fingers came back bloody. That probably wasn’t good.
Elisson erupted from the pool, the surface boiling around his waist. Orbiting his hair was a tiny galaxy of[…]”

CotG pg.131