Page 205 of Embers in the Snow

“My lady, stand aside!” Kharuk shouts as the undead crashes against him.

The blade pierces his chest, skewering both of them together, and they’re falling, and too late, I start to move, but Kharuk’s body has been pushed back with great force, and he collides with me.

We fall.

There’s a sharp burst of pain in my belly, just below my ribcage. With growing horror, I realize what it is. The tip of the sword that’s gone through the undead’s chest, then Kharuk’s, has impaled me too.

Warmth blossoms in my upper belly. Sharp, agonizing, terrifying warmth.

We hit the ground. I can’t move. Kharuk’s on top of me, and he’sheavy.

Still breathing, though. Still moving.

Is that my blood, or his? I can’t tell. I’m filled with horror as I realize that on top of us all is the undead creature. It kicks and flails, and the blade moves with it, worsening Kharuk’s wounds—and mine.

Stop.

Somewhere in the periphery of my vision, I’m aware of men surging into the garden. Frantic shouts fill my ears. My vision fades in and out.

The tightness in my chest is growing. The pain is becoming unbearable. The crush of Kharuk’s heavy body on top of mine makes me feel like I’m drowning.

I can’t stand it.

Stop.

I want to end it.

Stop.

I can’t die here. I can’t let my guards die. Why is it that I supposedly have so much power, yet I can’t do a thing?

Eulisyn, if you’re there, listen to me. Help me. Do what you did before, and end this.

What if I… won’t see Corvan again?

Something inside me breaks. It isn’t supposed to go like this. All of a sudden, I’m filled with anger. Pure, white-hot anger.

It’s like an inferno, threatening to consume me. I’veneverfelt this angry before. At my pathetic father. At the selfish emperor. At the ambitious fools that would desecrate the dead in order to gain power.

Tormenting innocents for their gain. My mother. Corvan’s mother.

And forwhat?

How dare they cause such suffering?

Howdarethey keep me from what is mine?

Anger consumes my soul, threatening to engulf everything I’ve ever known.

And something inside me slides and clicks, like a key turning in a lock.

Everything falls into place.

A familiar voice echoes in my head.Righteous anger is the most cleansing fire of all. And after the fire comes renewal.

The tightness in my chest is so strong it’s turned into pure agony, fanning the flames of my anger.

Eulisyn?

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