Enya’s red hair was whipping back fiercely in the wind, glimmering in the sunlight. “I would choose you,” she said at last.
Oro frowned. “You would kill everyone else in this world...just to save me?”
Enya nodded. “I would.” She stretched her legs out. A wave broke yards away, its foam reaching them. “But that’s easy for me to say, since it’s a choice I know I’ll never have to make.” She looked over at him. “And I’m not king.”
He hung his head. “This crown is a curse,” he said. It always had been. Part of him wished he could just fling it into the water, but that wouldn’t rid him of his responsibility to his people, or his blood-deep connection to them.
“They all are,” Enya said.
She was right. All crowns were covered in blood. Whether through conquest or through heritage, people had to die for a crown to transfer to a new head.
He felt the weight of his entire lineage on his. Now that he had seen all the histories, he knew what it had taken for his line to survive. For this crown to finally reach him.
Oro couldn’t kill Isla. But he also couldn’t be the one to doom his people and bring all his ancestors’ work to an end.
“I wish the choice was between her or me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I would give my life for hers in an instant.”
“Even now?” Enya asked. “After she chose him?”
“Even now,” he repeated.
He could tell Enya had a thousand thoughts about that. He guessed that she wanted to yell at him, to tell him his life had value, to plead with him not to do anything reckless. It was the same thing Oro would have told her, if their positions were reversed.
But in the end, they just sat in silence, side by side, watching the tide rush in.
ISLA
Cronan looked both of them over with an air of disappointment.
He had heard everything. He knew now, for certain, that Isla wasn’t going to join him. Grim stood very still, his shadows not lowering.
His ancestor turned to him, sneering. “I expected better from you. Perhaps that was my first mistake.”
In a rush, the darkness closed in. Cronan’s portaling power was like a whip, cracking as they landed in the galaxy room. The force nearly made her knees buckle. Knights stood against the curved walls of the circular room, spines rod-straight. Awaiting orders. Cronan sighed, gazing between them. “You could have given birth to an entire new age.” His eyes narrowed on Isla. “But you...I underestimated you. You’ve been hiding part of your mind from me.”
He circled them slowly, and Isla felt hunted. “I am merciful,” he continued. “You’ve seen yourself that I always give second chances to those who prove their greatness.”
Each of the knights took a step forward, and Isla swallowed, counting them. A dozen. All plated in enchanted shademade metal. They didn’t have any weapons, but Isla knew from fighting them that they didn’t need them.
Cronan’s head tilted as he examined her. “I won’t be foolish enough to give you your powers again, but I won’t leave you empty-handed.” A sword fell through the air, and she caught it before it hit the ground. “If you can kill each and every one of my knights in this room, I’ll let you leave.”
She wasn’t going to leave without Grim. She just stood in place, refusing to move.
But then a knight to her left lunged at her.
She ducked at the last minute, whirling and kicking him in the back. He slid across the floor. Cronan watched on, looking amused.
She didn’t give the knight time to get up or gather his shadows. She swung her sword and cut his head clean off.
She heard a sharp inhale, like Grim was surprised by her brutality.
Did he not understand? They were both brutal in the lengths they would go for each other.
She heard the sound of shadows sharpening and stabbed behind her without looking, hearing metal strike metal.
Cronan hadn’t given her a sword sharp enough to go through their armor. Of course not. She turned—and was flying through the air, hit with a wave of shadow. She landed, her breath ripped from her lungs—
And eleven knights were right over her.
