The sheer rush of power when he touches them is heady, overwhelming. Felix's will sways with theirs, and he doesn't have the chance to think or react before he - they strike downward, shattering and consuming. Drinking up the energies of that glutted soul, so potent, so exhilarating- and then he's jerked sharply forward, shaken bodily back into the land of the li- er. Wakeful.

"I know!" The protest is automatic, voice wavering with the shaking he's getting. The conjurer's quick to snap back to himself - at least, he seems to. "I know they're not! I'm not trying to take them, you idiot!"

Perfect diplomacy! But he does let go the blades now he's unhindered, dropping them onto the table with a clatter. See? He can put them down any time he wants.