She’s barely walking—barely moving—but still she almost grabs me. I kick her back, which makes my own footing unstable. I fall, the shovel skittering out of my grasp.

The Unconsecrated woman comes for me again, stuck in time so slow it’s like her body’s full of half-frozen water. I know I should be frantic—my mind tries to be—but my body won’t obey. My hands search the frozen shore, digging through snow to find the shovel, but soon I realize I can’t feel anything.

My sister staggers to my side, crossbow jolting as she tries to hold it steady with her shivering arms. The first bolt goes wide and the second only tears into the Unconsecrated woman’s shoulder. She lumbers toward me, intent.

My hands are nothing more than lumps. I have no way to defend myself. Except to run. The Unconsecrated woman swings at me, her body jerking at the movement, and I push myself away.

And then her head whips back, the left side of it crushed in on itself. My sister stands with my shovel in her hands, pulling it up for another swing.

It takes all my reserves of strength to get to my feet. I totter a moment, pressing my arm against the wall to steady myself. The world tilts and sways, sparks jumping through my vision as dark spots threaten to swallow me.

“You go!” I shout at her, pulling the weapon from her hands. She starts to shake her head but I shove her forward. “Get help!” I cry. She turns and struggles toward the platform, a black shape in the dark evening.

The Unconsecrated behind me moans and I remember that that sound is bad. Really bad. I shove away from it, stumbling down the beach. I lose my footing more than once. I forget where I’m going. Why.

Nothing seems like a better idea than simply lying down. Curling up. Riding out the storm wrapped around my poor frozen hands, which don’t even burn anymore.

Then I hear the moan and I remember again. Moan. Death. Bad. In front of me I see light. Fire. My sister. Good.

There’s something I should be holding on to. A promise I made. A feeling. But every time the thought enters my mind it’s gone before my frozen fingers can wrap around it.

The fire’s farther away than it looks. So so far. Too far. I don’t have the energy anymore.

Something tangles around me as I stumble against the snow. I fight but my arms are stuck and I can’t get them free. It looks like it could be rope but it doesn’t make sense that there would be rope just dangling here.