And then she was hauled to her feet and tied to the cart.
Her side ached as she hobbled along. Her eyes began to close. She stumbled as she tried to keep walking, wishing she had just stayed in the damned cart longer, stench or not. Rest would have done her some good.
Isla blinked, eyes dry and crusted in sand—and before her, the endless expanse of desert and ash became a glorious mountain range, with flower-speckled glades and rivers spilling down its center.
She jolted and blinked again—but it was gone. Only faded blue and green and brown ash remained. Isla frowned. She remembered the desert she had been in with Oro. Skyshade was supposed to be the bigger version of Lightlark, and Isla had seen visions in that desert too. The sand had been laced with enchantment that had plunged her into memories, that had made her see things that weren’t real.
Was that what this was too? A mirage?
There was a rough pull of the cart as the horse sped up, and she saw it again—an endless forest full of colors so bright and vivid she could practically taste the flowers. Redbuds, violets, magnolias, orchids, so many that they spilled over themselves.
In the next moment, only their ashes remained.
Isla frowned. No. This wasn’t just an illusion. Somehow, she was seeing what this world once had been. As she walked, she could feel tremors of power, there, then gone, as if entire cities had been buried. Entire histories. Wars and creatures and relics and people turned to nothing but dust beneath her boots.
She couldn’t help but imagine this happening to her own world.
No. She wouldn’t let that happen. She was here to fight for everything and everyone she loved. Including her husband. He had given his life for her, he had started a war for her, he had been ready to turn their world to ash, just to save her.
The image vanished. And as Isla looked around this ruined place with nothing but dust for miles, dread crept through her stomach.
If Cronan had ruined this world...had he done it out of love? Or hate? Did the reason even matter, if this was the outcome?
Her life was nearly gone now. She needed to find a way to keep herself alive without needing to be tied to Grim’s soul, so that he wouldn’t have to continue with his destruction in her name. Because she knew he would do anything to permanently save her.
And she was afraid of what that might mean.
She shook her head, shifting her thoughts.
Oro. Instead of star-swept skies, his love felt like a beach, like summertime. They started as enemies, constantly bickering, and somehow, that hatred became trust. Then friendship. Then...love.
A part of her ached as she remembered when he first said that word to her. How he had held her through her nightmares. How he had been patient, and kind. How he had taught her control.
And then watched her lose it.
Still, even after all she had done, after she had left him for Grim to end the war, after she had remained there afterward, he still loved her. She could feel the faint string of that love now. Grim’s too.
The prophecy said she would have to choose one of them. She wouldkillone of them.
She refused. She refused to be a pawn in a grand destiny written centuries ago. She would forge her own fate.
And it all started here.
She wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of her situation, but she would keep going, keep walking, until she did.
The sand began to tremble. The cart stopped. Her captors whispered rapidly to each other, lifting their hands to wield. The guard closest to her took a step—then let out a gargled scream as her feet were dragged into the ground—
And her body was drained of all its water and blood.
It happened in half a second. One moment, she was there. The next, her body was falling forward, and all that remained was folded, shrunken skin. The scarf had fallen off her face. Her eyes were popped, as if even that liquid had been taken. Her skin was thin as paper, nothing but flaked tissue. Her teeth were parted in a lasting scream.
The creature was beneath Isla now. She could feel it, stirring the sand. She looked over at the cart, wondering if she should leap into it, or if her movement would make her more of a target.
Before she could decide, the scavenger closest to her dropped his dagger. The sand shifted as the creature raced toward him.
His body collapsed in a pile of folded skin a moment later—and, before the creature could claim another victim, another scavenger parted the ash with his power and stabbed his sword straight down.
There was a high-pitched wail. The ground stilled again.
