Grim gripped his sword and prepared to attack when suddenly a whip-like tongue shot out, heading right at him. He lifted his sword to cut the tongue clean off, but the creature was smart. Its tongue darted around his blade and wrapped around his body, pinning his arms tohis sides. He heard his sword thud against the sand before he was being pulled forward.
The tongue’s hold was like a vise. He couldn’t move, and he roared as he tried. This monster would not stop him from getting to that king. From getting to Isla. But he didn’t have powers here. And without his sword...
The beast’s tongue constricted, and he felt a rib shatter. Fuck, it hurt. He should have given Oro more credit.
The barb came rushing down, straight toward his chest. Grim closed his eyes, anticipating the pain of being ripped apart and—
There was an ear-splitting howl as something shattered all around him.
What the—?Grim blinked, only to see a thousand pieces of silver raining down as his spine hit the sand, the beast’s tongue spasming next to him. Oro must have cut it off with Grim’s sword and blocked the stinger with the blade. And the stinger hadbroken it like it was no more than a toy, and not an ancient relic.
“Get off your ass,” Oro snarled, pulling him to his feet, just as the stinger came down again, right where he had been.
Grim stumbled after Oro and ran as fast as he ever had in his long life, the scorpion right behind them. Its chain was longer than the others. It didn’t seem to have eyes, and as the stinger cleaved down around them with little aim, Grim guessed that its tongue had been its main sense. Sand scattered as the tail carved deep holes in the ocean floor. One strike missed his leg by only inches.
The scorpion was fast, nearly upon them now. “Jump!” Oro yelled.
Grim leapt forward as far as he could, rolling when he hit the ground and bracing himself for impact.
But it never came. He slowly looked back and saw that the chain had finally pulled taut. He and Oro laid beside each other, gasping for air, watching as the scorpion roared, its barb reaching just a foot shy of them.
“Thank you,” Grim breathed, begrudgingly.
Oro sighed. “Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
Oro turned to him. He looked tired. His crown was off-kilter and filthy. “Because then I’ll really think the world is fucking ending.”
Grim shook his head. He stood and offered Oro a hand. The Sunling had saved him. They had saved each other.
They were both battered and bruised, sporting broken bones and covered in guts. But together, they crested another craggy hill—and stopped in their tracks.
Because there, sitting alone in the distance, was the lost king.
ISLA
Wood struck Isla in the chest, sending her flying. The moment the bark pierced her skin, sparks rippled down every inch of her body, as she took hold of the energy surging around her. The skyre on her arm that helped control her power ignited.
And that forest that Lark had sent at her roared as she shaped the trees into a thousand daggers, then threw them back at Lark.
The shards pierced her ancestor’s head, her chest, her legs. Her bones split. Her skin tore. Isla tried to catch her breath, daring to hope that she had finally put an end to Lark once and for all.
But Lark stood before she had even fully pieced herself back together. Her broken face still managed to form a smirk.
Then, she shot forward, and Isla rushed to meet her. She rode a stream of energy, right toward her ancestor.
She called upon the objects that had been taken from her, and they soared from the cart on a current of Starling energy. Every slice of armor pieced together onto her body, gleaming, forming in seconds. The god-bone flew into one palm, and Cronan’s sword appeared in the other. The orb of condensed storms floated in front of her, ready to be broken open.
Before Isla and Lark could collide, a bolt of lightning struck right between them, sending the world rattling and Isla careening away from Lark. Isla hit the sand then slid, her armor the only thing keeping her skin from ripping apart. In the sky above her, she could see portal after portal forming. As if called to both their powers.
Before she could react, the sky split in a roar of thunder—
And began raining creatures. Beasts that were just like the bodies in the cart—twisted and mangled, as if the journey from world to world had changed them. Still, most of them were alive. They screeched, their howls as loud as the thunder itself. Jolts of lightning illuminated them in brief flashes.
Her eyes widened. These were no ordinary creatures. She watched as sheets of water turned midair into winged beasts, as if formed from the storm itself.
It was there, from her back, that she saw the first knight land.
