Isla looked over at her ancestor. Lark’s expression remained neutral, like even this didn’t surprise her. It made her wonder what else awaited them in this world.
The bodies were left behind. And they kept going.
ORO
“Your father was looking for a lost king.”
Oro frowned. His was the only royal line he knew of.
“Horus,” Cleo continued, speaking of Oro’s ancestor and one of the three founders of Lightlark, “left behind a record, and a map, with orders that it should only be used in the direst of circumstances.”
This was the first time Oro was hearing of it—yet another piece of knowledge that hadn’t been shared with him, since he was never supposed to be king.
Why had his father even been looking for a lost king? During his father’s rule, up until the war, things hadn’t been dire at all. They had been prosperous. Had he anticipated Nightshade would strike? Had he told Egan about this, and not him?
“I’m assuming my father never found him,” Oro said, remembering how the explorations were halted by the war.
Cleo shook her head.
Grim held out his hand impatiently. “The map,” he said, the words a firm order. And for once, Oro was almost grateful for his presence. Because learning all of this about his family had him unmoored. Distracted. Which he couldn’t afford to be, when every moment could mean life or death for Isla.
He fought to take a steady breath. What was she facing now? What did she need? It killed him that he didn’t know, the same way it had when she had left with Grim to end the war. Oro had flown for days just to see if she was alright. He wished he could do that now.He would fly for centuries to her, if he could. Millions of miles. No distance would be too far.
He knew the Nightshade felt the same, which made this circumstance even more frustrating. They both would travel any distance...but they didn’t have a road. They didn’t knowhowto get to her.
Even through his panic, Oro still had a duty to his people. He still had to worry about this Crowntide Cleo spoke of.
Grim clearly didn’t care about an impending war between worlds. He didn’t care about Oro’s family’s secrets. He only cared about getting Isla back, and that, Oro knew, made him villainous—but it also would be an advantage.
Cleo frowned at Grim’s hand before taking it. Oro took Grim’s next. And as soon as he did, Cleo’s white-oak ship faded away in a stomach-turning mess of shadows. The pale wood floor became ice. The Moonling’s most mysterious and powerful relics floated below the thick layer of frost.
Grim had portaled them to the Moon Isle library. During the Centennial, Isla had come to this place in search of what she believed to be the bondbreaker. Oro knew because he’d had Zed follow her here. Before that, Oro had tailed her himself. He had followed her in the skies, from a distance, until his curiosity with her grew into a strange, distracting obsession. The night Isla went to Moon Isle, he had decided to send Zed in his place, thinking time away from her would help. It hadn’t.
No...back then, no matter how many times she lied to him, no matter how infuriating she could be, Isla had consumed his thoughts, his worries, his dreams. He had truly wondered if he was losing his mind.
Nothing had changed since then.
Cleo’s white boots clicked along the ice as she stepped over relic after relic. Beneath her feet, objects fluttered in the current, drawn to her power. Swords and daggers and shields glimmered as she passed them.
Finally, she stopped and knelt, as graceful as a cresting wave. Then she punched right through the ice, sending chunks scattering around her. When her hand emerged, it was holding a compass.
“I thought you said it was a map,” Grim said. Cleo simply tossed it to him.
Oro walked over as the Nightshade studied the compass. Closer, he saw there wasn’t an arrow inside...but sloshing water. The liquid defied gravity to pull toward one direction, as if telling them where they needed to go. As if this small bit of water was desperate to return to where it had been taken from.
Grim didn’t waste a moment before walking over to the closest column—and shattering the compass against the wall.
“What—”
Glass stuck out of Grim’s hand, but the Nightshade didn’t even seem to feel it, or the blood and saltwater dripping down his skin.
Grim didn’t even glance at Oro as he smeared the water between his thumb and finger, eyes narrowed in concentration. He seemed to be sensing the location of their destination by touch.
And fuck him, but Oro was impressed.
Without a single word, Grim outstretched his hand once more.
Oro and Cleo took it, and were gone.
