He didn't finish his sentence.
Those strangely pink eyes of his glowed unnaturally for a moment, and with a lazy, almost bored gesture, he waved a hand.
The effect was instantaneous and absolute.
The towering wave of frozen water didn't just melt; it disintegrated. It vanished, not into a torrent of cascading liquid, but into a fine, shimmering mist that dissolved into the air, as if it had never been.
An island of calm wrapped around them.
The boat, which had been tilted at a terrifying, almost vertical angle, settled gently onto a surface of placid, glass-smooth water. The rest of the storm, a howling, churning maelstrom of wind and waves, raged around them, a monstrous, chaotic tempest held at bay by an invisible, circular wall. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane, but this eye was a perfect, unnatural circle of serene, silent tranquility.
"There," Merwyn said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "Much better."
