Begrudgingly, he realized his father and Grim’s perhaps weren’t that different, in the end. Both always wanting more, and willing to sacrifice members of their realms to get it.
Are you still pretending we’re so different?Grim had asked him, centuries before. Oro brushed away the memory.
“How do you know that?” Oro asked. His father’s actions were kept secret to avoid judgment from his people. Sending warriors away from their own shores would not have been a popular decision, especially when the war began with Nightshade.
“My sister,” Cleo said. Of course. Her sister had been ruler of Moonling long before she was. “Your father enlisted her help, since his search involved the seas.”
“What was he trying to find?” Oro demanded, a seed of hope sprouting in his heart. Maybe it was just what they needed to get to Isla.
“Not what,” Cleo said. “Who.”
ISLA
Isla and Lark had been dragged through the desert for a full day.
A half dozen people in gray tunics with scarves wrapped around their noses and mouths had easily overpowered them. Isla had tried to fight, had tried to summon any shred of power, but just like the ash beneath her feet, it slipped right through her fingers. She didn’t even have the strength to lift Cronan’s sword.
They bound Isla’s hands and took everything on her, including the sword, the orb containing all the storms she had used to defeat Lark, and the god-bone in her pocket. They even took her armor.
They tied her bindings to the back of a cart, with Lark strung up next to her, and then her and her ancestor were being launched forward. They both fell face-first into the ash. Isla’s mouth was filled with it. Her chin was being dragged. It took every ounce of her little remaining energy to stand, and then, there was no choice but to walk.
In Isla’s world, Lark had been unbeatable. She wielded ancient power, as the original founder. Here, she had been captured just as easily as Isla had. Her chest was still partially open. She was panting now, like it was almost impossible for her to breathe.
This world had brought even Lark to her knees. And that made dread spill down Isla’s spine.
As they trudged on, Isla’s head bent forward, away from the sun that seared even through the strokes of color. She studied the strange, glimmering ash for hours. It was similar to the desert on Sun Isle that she had trekked through with Oro. But this was not sand at all.
This was a place reduced toruins.
The dunes shifted in color, from silver and black to faded stripes of green and blue that almost created a map. It seemed as if entire forests and streams and fields had been turned to dust and ash in mere moments. As if this desert use to be a vibrant world that was flattened and extinguished.
The power she had come here for...the one that was supposed to undo all her endless wrongs...was gone. She felt just the whisper of it, like scattered flecks of rubble.
Something happened here.Someonehappened to this place.
And she had a feeling that she was about to see who that was.
Good. That would lead her straight to Cronan, without having to use the blood in his sword to track him down. But then she took in her situation. Tied to a cart. Powerless. Weaponless.
If she was going to have any chance at surviving this, she needed to make a plan. She studied her captors. They never spoke to each other. They hardly even looked at their captives. One sat on the horse that pulled the cart—its contents covered with a thick fabric.
The rest of them were fanned out...almost like guards.
Guarding from what? If Cronan ruled this world, and they were being taken to him, who would dare come between them?
And if Cronan’s power was portaling...could he not simply portal them to him?
At least their captors clearly wanted to keep Isla and Lark alive. They would’ve killed them ages ago if not. Instead, they were forcing them to walk, trying to tire them out.
Fine. Isla would give them what they wanted.
She took one more step, before stumbling forward and falling to the ground.
Her shoulders screamed as her body was dragged through the ash by her wrists. The ropes dug into her flesh. She waited for several minutes, wondering whether she had made an error in strategy.
Then, the cart stopped.
Whispers erupted around her. She couldn’t make out the words, but it was clearly some sort of argument. If she could only hear what they were saying...
