Grim shook his head. “You don’t know that, I could—”
Oro slapped him again. Grim’s head lurched to the side. This time, when the Nightshade faced him again, there was the hint of aggravation in his expression.
“You’re right. I don’t know for certain,” Oro said. “But what I do know is that Cronan will find her, if he hasn’t already. I know that there is a war coming that will most certainly kill us all. Killyou, if you don’t pull yourself together enough to face what’s coming. And I know you mostly just care about her, so let me make this clear. If she’s alright—which I have to believe she is—thenyour deathwill kill her.”
Grim looked to the ground. He took a ragged breath. “You’re—”
Oro made to slap him again, but Grim’s hand shot up and gripped his wrist. The Nightshade slowly slid his gaze up to meet Oro’s. “Touch me again, and I’ll eliminate the need for my wife to make a choice that fulfills this prophecy.” He tightened his grip nearly hard enough to shatter bone.
“There you are,” Oro said, the side of his mouth twitching. That was the Grim that he needed if they were going to save Isla.
Grim scowled, released his hand—and they turned toward Azul, who had the good sense to stay quiet throughout their whole exchange.
Oro knew he had to be the strong one right now. But inside, he was pure devastation. What if she was gone for good? What would he do? He would never love again, that was certain. His heart would harden.He would be forced to do what he had for the last few months, ever since Isla left him to end the war—exist like a ghost in their memories, reliving the best parts of his life knowing that they’d never be together again. He would sit alone on that beach on Sun Isle, staring at the sea the color of her eyes.
Never in his long life had he hoped to every god that Grim would stay alive.
He had to believe she was still out there.I love you, he thought, willing it to reach her, wherever she was.Even with a universe separating us, I love you. Even on my enemy’s lands, I love you. Even if you never want to be with me again, I love you.
He clung to those words as he closed his eyes and called upon the sea. He had never been the strongest Moonling, as Cleo had often reminded him, but he had to be strong for Isla, so he simplywas. He summoned every shred of his ability—
And changed the tides themselves.
Water rushed in, smearing the beach in salt and foam. Azul swept them up on a wind, and from this height, they watched all the pools fill, until one glowed a strange shade of blue.
That was it. It had to be. They landed upon a remaining crust of sand and walked toward it.
This was their portal.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Grim jumped in the water. The current raged around him, waves splashing in and out, but he walked steadfast toward its center. His shadows spilled after him, turning it dark as ink, and Oro could almost see his flair working to form a portal.
Grim’s eyes were closed in concentration. Sweat spilled down his temples.
Please work, Oro begged the universe. He offered up everything that was in his power to give.Please.
But minutes later, nothing had happened.
Grim roared in frustration, his shadows shooting in all directions, spearing ash through the sea.
Azul’s husband had been right. Grim’s flair and the pool itself weren’t enough.
Oro wished he could allow himself to drown in his sadness. But Isla needed him to keep his head above water.
She needed him to find a way to make this pool into a portal.
ISLA
Cronan Malvere’s eyes were as dead and empty as this world. He peered at Isla like she was a curious new planet to ruin. “So, you’re what I’ve been looking for,” he said, his voice flat and resonant, like Lark’s. An embodiment of ancient power.
His hair was dark as ink; his skin was pale as bone. He wore a crown of strange metals, spiked and jagged enough to be a weapon itself. The dark fabric of his cape seemed to leech all color around it. A sinister energy clung to him, like his soul was a relentless void.
He strode toward her, and ripples formed in the ashes that this part of the forest had been reduced to. Every step echoed, power undulating from deep within the ground. Isla realized she was wrong—he was nothing like Lark. He was something older, more formidable. Inevitable.
That was made even clearer when Lark took one look at him and lunged. In her expression, Isla saw not only utter rage, but hurt. Pure, bitter, millennia-old resentment. This ancient Wildling had nearly ripped her world apart, formed armies of dead, uprooted everything Isla had ever known and loved.
And Cronan didn’t even glance at her as he flicked his wrist like he was swatting a fly—and Lark was shredded into ribbons.
No. Isla gasped, watching as her ancestor was reduced to a pile of flesh and bone and blood. Isla had lost her chance to absorb Lark’s power. Lost the opportunity to bring everyone back—
