“That...didn’t happen...” Isla managed to say. If he had the power to reshape these moments...he could reshape her. He could meld her into the weapon he wanted.
Cronan’s shadows dug deeper into her mind and she cried out. “No, but it should have...” he said, his voice an ancient whisper. “Your subjects...all these people...they hate you. They fear you. Why are you so desperate to save them? When they would rather see you dead?”
Isla swallowed. He wasn’t wrong. The people of Lightlark, and some of her own subjects,diddespise her.
“This could all be over,” he said, right into her head. “Join me...and you will never know shame again. Never know fear. For you will be what brings the universe to its knees. Just give in. Just...give up. Don’t think anymore. Let me do the thinking. Be my sword. Be...my weapon.”
She could feel her mind melting around his shadows, reshaping, rethinking. He was right. They hated her.
Why was she fighting so hard to save people who would kill her if they had the chance?
“Yes...” Cronan said. “Don’t save them...rule them. Rule them all. Then they can never hurt you again.”
Hurt. She had felt so much hurt...
Another stone of her fortress fell, and Cronan rushed through it to another memory.
It was the first time she had ever portaled into the Starling newland. By accident, of course, right when she was learning how to use her starstick.
Isla watched herself materialize before a girl with a star-strung crown in her hair. The girl’s eyes flicked to the one that was still knotted in Isla’s.
“Did you just...did you justappearin my castle?” the girl said.
Isla blinked. If she wasn’t going to portal away, she thought, then she had better answer. “Yes,” she said, quickly. “I did.”
The girl’s smile grew. “You’re the ruler of Wildling, aren’t you?”
In a few years, they would meet again, at the Centennial on Lightlark. Best not to make an enemy so soon. Isla nodded.
“I’m the ruler of Starling.” She offered her hand. “Celeste.”
Isla stared at it. Poppy had taught her the social convention, of course, but she had never needed to use it. She never met anybody new.
The Starling laughed lightly at Isla’s hesitation. “I won’t hurt you,” Celeste said, her voice melodious and kind.
Slowly, Isla reached for her hand. Shook it.
“You need a friend, don’t you?” the Starling asked.
Isla nodded shyly. It was the truest thing she had ever done.
The girl beamed. “I could use one too. Being a ruler is so lonely, isn’t it?”
Yes. It was. But it didn’t have to be, Isla learned.
Cronan hummed with interest, thrumming through years of memories. Sitting by Celeste’s hearth, talking about life, training, their guardians, everything. Hours spent laughing.
It was nice having someone who could understand the pressure, the monotony, the anxiety of the approaching Centennial. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t point out her flaws like her guardians did. It was nice not being alone.
It was nice to have a friend.
Cronan landed on a specific moment a while later. Celeste was braiding Isla’s hair. “You have so much,” she said, as she twisted it all into a crown. “I’m jealous.”
Isla chuckled. “And I’m jealous of the fact that your guardians don’t watch over you every moment.”
In fact, Isla had never even seen Celeste’s guardians. In a realm where everyone died young, they were only a few years older than Celeste and left her alone most of the time.
“Oh, and the sparks,” Isla said. “I’m jealous of that too.”
