Page 286 of Emylia

I wasn’t ready. I’d never be ready.

But his hand fell away. And I felt the moment something inside him gave up.

No.

I called the water.

My palm shimmered, then glowed—an ethereal blue. The color of healing. Of hope.

I pressed it to a wound. The magik flowed. His flesh began to knit. Muscle reformed. Blood slowed.

But it wasn’t enough.

I’d already used too much. Fire had claimed my strength.

The blue began to flicker.

“Come on,” I begged. “Please, please don’t go.”

I poured everything I had into him.

My body shook. My skin burned. My vision blurred.

But he was still dying.

And I couldn't stop it.

Fury consumed me—hot, primal, volcanic. Flames burst across my fingertips, coiling into a sphere before I even knew I’d summoned it.

I hurled it.

Three fleeing warriors vanished in a scream of fire, their bodies turned to ash before they hit the ground. Maalikai had already cut down the final two, blood still dripping from his blade.

Fury still burned in my veins, magik pulsing hot and violent beneath my skin, but it all vanished as I looked back down at my uncle. Replaced by determination.

“I’m going to fix this,” I promised. “I’m going to save you.”

He shook his head, weak but certain. “Don’t… waste anymore time on me. Go.”

“No.”

I slammed my hand to one of his wounds again, pressing hard to stem the bleeding.

“I said no!” I ignored him.

His blood surged between my fingers. I called on the water. Let it rise, let it coat my palm in the healing glow of blue. I didn’t even think—I just poured it into him.

Flesh began to stitch. Muscle twitched.

But not fast enough.

“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Youhaveto be okay.”

His fingers twitched, tried to shove me away.

I shoved them back.

“Stop,” he growled. “You’ll kill yourself if you keep?—”

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