Page 47 of Burn Bright
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Of course, it had been Hussar the Darknesstook.
Where else could it find hate to twist? Who else would be arrogant enough to defy their prince—to lift a sword againsthim?
Who else hungered—in a way no man should hunger—for blood and glory, and to rise above hisstation?
Pausing at the top of the hill revealed the bloodied battle below me in the snow. The firebird's pyre roared into the sky, casting an eerie orange glow across the scene. Four men guarded the fallen prince, and Cas was tending to him desperately, trying to staunch the bloodflow.
Hussar had gained his feet, his skin cracked and charred from Galina’s defiant last stand—though red light gleamed through the cracks, as ifsomethinghealed him from within. He wielded his sword, cutting through two of the guards. Despite the flames, his face seemed a mask of shadows, and he moved with the strength of twenty men. One of the guards scored a lucky strike, the tip of his sword slashing across Hussar'scheek.
Black blood dripped down the hollow beneath his cheekbone, but as fast as it fell, the wound sealed. Hussar bellowed in rage, and kicked the soldier in the chest, sending him staggering back into the arms of his comrades. They crashed in a steely rasp, and he turned and slashed the throat of Gemel, the stablehand.
I sprinted through the woods, the trees flashing past me. Faster than I'd ever run before, the wind whistling past my ears until it felt like I was flying. I'd never felt so alive, so attuned to the woods. It was as if another's spirit moved withinme.
And maybe onedid.
There was Old Blood in my veins. Vashta'sblood.
Her spear in myhand.
The firebird's spark in mychest.
Gravenwold needed a guardian, and I no longer felt fear. It wasextraordinary.
A pile of tumbled saddlebags loomed in front of me, and I leapt over them, landing in the clearing on the other side of the pyre to the prince and hismen.
"Hussar!" I called, crouching low. When I was ten I'd climbed through the trees and followed as my father and Densby's menfolk went hunting for wild boar in the trees. The heavy spears they used were nothing likeVashta's.
I knew little of spear work, and yet my fingers gripped the ash haft expertly, and it moved as though that other spirit within me wieldedit.
"You are not alone,"Galinawhispered.
"Let me fight this battle for you,"whispered another voice in my mind, one I instinctively knew wasVashta.
And so I let her spirit takecontrol.
The same cool feeling that had enveloped me in the Well of Tears slid over myskin.
Hussar drove his blade toward me, the flash of silver gleaming in the firelight. I swung and met it, and the ash bladeresistedthe steel. Sound vibrated off it, and somehow I sensed the trees around uswake.
Hussar was forced back, and his eyes darted around us as the trees seemed to loom closer. The trees! The Darkness feared both them and myfire.
It was no longer Hussar I faced. Rage filled his eyes, obliterating the iris and leaving nothing but pupil. It felt like he was growing. Those light filled cracks in his skin began to glow like molten lava through itscrust.
Whatever was left of Hussar had been consumed by the entity within him. "Cast down your spear, child," it said in a deep growl that sounded nothing like its former owner. "And I might permit you tolive."
"It lies,"Galina whispered. "It allows nothing to live, and you are the only thing it fears. Don’t believeit."
"I wasn’t planning to," I snarled, and spun the spear around me as I feintedforward.
Our weapons clashed again and again. The spear whined as I twirled it around my ears, seeking openings in Hussar's defense. A thundering blow reverberated through the spear and up my arms. I ground my teeth, ducking beneath the swing of hissword.
No matter how fast I moved, he met everyattack.
And despite my newfound strength and skill, he was slowly beating me back step bystep.
Galina couldn’t killit.
