on the opposite side of ivy , rosanna launched more traditional lances of flame from her open palms , much like the ones i- - a savage pain went through my skull for a second-son of a bitch- - but ivy dispersed them with delicately applied wedges of air , intercepting each burst of fire far enough short of her body to prevent the bloom of heat as they died from scorching her-though the two more physical denarians who strained to force their way past the barrier of snapping sparks that formed whenever they tried to get close had far less luck .