freezes sidhe zero

“Game over,” I said. I raised my right hand, called upon Winter again, and thundered, “Infriga!”
In an instant, the air screamed in protest as near-absolute-zero cold rushed out of my hand and enveloped the fallen fiddler in a block of glacier blue ice. Even the other Winter Sidhe recoiled from the savage bite of the cold and wound up with their hair, ears, and fingertips coated in ice. All of them stared at me, frozen, ba-dump-bump, ching.
None of them moved.
Except the fiddler. His eyes moved, desperate and agonized.
I turned to find Molly approaching in full Winter Lady mode, her steps decisive, her posture regal. I inclined my head to her and said, “My lady, what is your will?”
“This sort of behavior cannot be tolerated,” she said, her voice carrying to the entire room. “Though he is not one of mine, I offer my most sincere regrets to the White Council and to Warden Yoshimo for this incident.” She looked around the room and said, “Baron Marcone has given his permission, as host, for me to deal with this matter. Place this lawbreaker on the buffet table. An ice sculpture is appropriate. Should he survive to thaw, he is banished from Winter lands and holdings upon pain of death.”
She walked up to the block of ice and crouched down to face the fiddler’s wide eyes. She simply stared for a moment, cold and icy, and then said, in a very calm, very hard tone, “It’s not nice to do that to girls at parties.”


Peace Talks Chapter 21, Page 210