no sells spell

The Winter Lady shrieked over the battle again, her voice pure, contemptuous fury, as one of her dwindling bodyguard of trolls smashed its way through the blocks of ice left in her wake. Another wave of enemy magic crashed upon the battlefield around her, and if she walked through it mainly untouched, the trolls around her screamed their pain and rage as fresh waves of enemy troops, driven by terror of Corb and his coterie, flung themselves at the Winter Lady.
My heart went into my throat as I saw a sword strike her and wedge itself into the flesh of her naked shoulder as if she had been a block of ice. Molly contemptuously touched the hand holding the weapon with her blade and snapped a kick up into the ice, shattering the frozen hand. She knocked the sword casually out of her flesh. Then she leaned down and almost sensually ran the edge of her icy blade beneath the edge of the enemy’s helmet. The blade opened the trooper’s throat in a wash of blood that burst into steam as it touched Molly’s pale, cold flesh, and she bubbled into chill, hungry laughter as it did.
God.
I’d heard that laugh coming from other lips.
Yeah.
No wonder she hadn’t gone home to visit the family for Sunday dinner.
In any other circumstance I could have imagined, I would have gone charging full steam toward Molly to assist and protect her. But the Winter Lady didn’t need my help.
She was the anvil.

Battle Ground Chapter 32, Page 304