Emilio's jaw tightened along with his grip on the pommel of his sword.
Out of time. For what?
His thoughts raced as he drew his blade.
What if…
No.
Stop that.
Focus, Emilio Arand. You aim to survive tonight. Use your head.
He shook his head and swallowed down the fear rising within him. He was a templar of the Order of the Holy Sword. Something strange was afoot, but he was not powerless. He knew he could sense things beyond normal perception. His time with Unnur, whatever she really was, had changed him in a way that made him feel more unburdened by the magic that pulsed around them through the Word. There was something out there waiting in the frigid dark beyond the shelter.
He focused on the steady pulse of magic around him. It was a risk, but he closed his eyes to focus. The warmth of Unnur's hand in his free hand was anchoring — the light within all this darkness that he clung to. Power flowed through the woman and his hand into the world.
