Movement sounded behind her. She whirled in a flash, ready to strike—but it wasn’t Grim. It was a desert mouse, scurrying away from a snake. It burrowed into the sand, and the snake’s tail rattled in fury as it chased after it.
Grim didn’t know where she was. And she couldn’t let him find her, not until she could figure out a plan. As much as it pained her already shattered heart...she broke the bridge between them again, in case it might lead him to her.
How had things gone so wrong? For a beautiful, triumphant moment, she had thought she had won. She had freed herself of Cronan’s grasp and managed to injure him. She had made her choice and brought Grim to this world.
And now...
She shook her head, trying to stay focused on the present. It was the only way she was going to get through this. Because if she thoughttoo hard about the blankness in his expression...about how he had almostkilledher without a second thought...she would collapse and cry until dehydration did her in. And that would be a pathetic way to die, after surviving everything else.
On shaking legs, she dragged herself through the sand in the direction of the massive crater. As she got closer, she heard the clinking of glass and murmuring of voices. It was, in fact, a village. The sun was setting as she slipped down into a market, and it seemed like the town was coming alive. The people here must have preferred to operate during the cooler hours, without the unrelenting sun. It reminded her of the agora during the Centennial, watching from a distance as the Sunlings filled the streets, their curse preventing them from exploring it during the day.
The thought made Oro’s face flash in her mind, and she felt a stab of pain. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, she never wanted to hurt him. Even now, after she had made her choice, she knew he would always have part of her soul.
But most of it belonged to Grim. Still.
She wove through the stalls in the market, swiping a few sheets of fabric in order to blend in. It wouldn’t disguise her against Grim, of course. But she suspected Cronan would send his knights after her as well. She didn’t need to raise suspicions with any of these villagers in case they turned her in.
The market stalls were made of adobe and glass—far more available materials than wood, Isla thought, in a place like this. The oasis only had a few trees, but they were given a wide berth. She watched a few people kneel before them in reverence.
A single pool of water sat in the center of this crater, and Isla wondered if it once filled the entire hole. Perhaps this—just a tiny pool not much larger than a puddle—was all that was left.
Isla joined that line, and as she moved closer, she noticed the water glowing faintly, but nothing like the pool in her head. When she got to the front, she realized she didn’t have anything to drink out of.
“Here,” a voice said behind her. Isla turned, and the woman next in line handed her a glass cup. “I have one to spare.” She had honey-colored eyes and slightly tanned skin. The fabrics she wore were thin but intricately designed, in waves that could be water or sand.
“Thank you,” Isla said, taking it from her. She filled her cup and moved out of the way to drink. She had been in the desert for only an hour, but the water was a welcomed coolness down her throat.
“It never gets old, does it?”
Isla lowered her cup to see the woman who had done her this kindness. She finished her last gulp and handed the glass back to her.
“The sacred water is better than any other I’ve ever tasted,” the woman continued. She studied Isla. Isla imagined she looked awful, having been kept in a cell for days. “Though, I’ve never seen you here before.”
In a small community like this, Isla supposed her new clothes weren’t enough to make her blend in.
“I’m...hiding,” she said, searching for an explanation that would make sense.
The woman frowned. “From who?”
“My husband.” It was the truth, after all.
The woman nodded, knowingly. She reached for Isla’s hand, squeezing gently. “I’m Jessel,” she said, leading Isla back through the market, “Would you like something to eat?”
Isla blinked, shocked by this stranger’s immediate kindness. She should refuse. She should keep moving. What if this was a trap? Cronan ruled this world, and she didn’t know what that meant in a small village like this.
But Isla hadn’t eaten in days. She was exhausted and devastated. So she followed Jessel back to her house.
The structure was built underground, beneath the crust of the crater. Isla assumed it was to protect against the storms. It was a wonder any of the trees had survived them.
The main room was small and cool, with a hearth in the corner and seats carved out of the walls. A fire flickered softly. After days in a cell, a warm, comfortable place like this almost brought tears to her eyes. This felt like a home, and it was remarkable that some semblance of peace had remained in this world of ruin.
Isla startled when she heard a yelp, and then a child came running into the room. Another soon joined him.
“Prelis, Agor. Say hello to our guest,” Jessel said.
“Hello,” Prelis said happily.
Agor stepped toward her. “Your eyes are like treetops,” he said, his tone skeptical, almost like an accusation.
