Nightbane (Lightlark, #2)(103)

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Even knowing the risks?”

“I’m sure.”

Remlar began making tea.

Isla’s mind was a battleground.

She didn’t want to remember—she had to remember. She didn’t want to feel anything but disgust at the Nightshade—she had felt everything with the Nightshade.

The more she saw, the more she knew . . .

“What is the opposite of night, Wildling?” Remlar said, as he poured the tea into her mug.

Isla frowned. She was convinced Remlar just liked to hear himself talk. “Day?”

Remlar shrugged. “If you say so.”

Isla narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean? What’s the answer?”

Remlar took a sip of his own tea. It looked scalding. “Very few questions in this world have only one answer.”

Isla wondered what the point of this conversation was.

“What is your answer?” she asked. She watched as her tea became more saturated in color.

He didn’t say a thing. These were mostly one-sided conversations. “What does power feel like to you?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Like a seed. Behind my ribs.”

Remlar nodded, excited by her response. “A very pretty way of seeing it,” he said. “Very fitting, for a Wildling.”

“What does it feel like to you?”

This time, he answered. “Like nothing,” he said. “I’ve been alive for so long that my power is as much a part of me as my blood and bones.”

She dared ask a question she had wondered since the first moment she had seen him. “Are you truly Nightshade?”

“Labels are so unproductive,” he said. “Though, I suppose you would call me a Nightshade. In terms of my power.”

“You wield darkness?” Isla asked. “How have the islanders not banished you?”

“They fear me too much,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because my knowledge surpasses theirs. I have survived when kings have risen and fallen and died. I have remained. We, the ancient creatures, remain. And some of us remember.”

“Remember what?” she asked. She finally took a sip of her tea. That was all it took. Within seconds, her mind began to slip away from her. The past bled into the present. She blinked and watched Remlar fade far away.

The last thing she heard him say was, “Home.”





BEFORE


They had a plan to get past the dragon. Grim would lure it out of the cave, and Isla would get through all the protections herself before the dragon returned. She practiced going through each one, with the help of Grim’s illusions. He watched as Isla finished the entire circuit for the tenth time successfully. She turned to face him when she was done, and he actually looked impressed.

They were standing in his training room. She leaned against a stone wall and slid all the way down it. “I’m exhausted,” she said.

“I can imagine.”

Grim had clearly just come from the scar. He was covered in ash. “You look awful.”

“That is harder to imagine, but I will take your word for it.”

Magnificent ego, indeed. She sighed. “I’m ready. Why don’t we celebrate?”

He lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Tonight is the Launch of Orbs in the Skyling newland,” she said. She had attended the previous year, but only barely. She had hidden in the shadows, watching. Wishing to be part of it all. “It’s to celebrate the new season of hot-air balloons being unveiled.”

Grim scowled. “They are always finding an excuse to celebrate. I bet they celebrate tying their own shoes.”

“I’ve always wanted to ride in one,” she said. She looked pointedly at him.

His eyes slid to hers. He looked like he would rather do absolutely anything other than be launched into the sky in a balloon. “Don’t you have anyone else to go with?”

Isla stood. She gave him a withering look. “You know what? I’m sure I can find someone else to spend the evening with me,” she said. She turned on her heel, but before she could take a step, he was up in a flash, holding on to her wrist, stopping her in place.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, his voice a growl in her ear.

She turned to face him and found him towering over her. His shadows were spilling everywhere. She lifted her chin in defiance. “Let go of me,” she said.

“Never.”

Isla was breathing too rapidly. He was too close. Her voice came out brittle. “Might I remind you that there is nothing between us. I do not belong to you. And you do not belong to me. If we decide to have . . . fun . . . then that is all it is. Momentary entertainment. Nothing more.”

Grim’s grin was wicked. “Oh, Hearteater.” He leaned down, until his lips were pressed right against her ear as he said, “If we do decide to truly have fun, there will be nothing momentary about it.”

Isla swallowed. He traced the movement. His lips were dangerously close to her neck. “Take me to the festival,” she said, her request breathless.

“Fine. Get dressed.”


Grim was right. Skylings did truly seem to think up any excuse to celebrate. She loved it.

At the Launch of Orbs party, everyone wore glitter. In their hair, on their outfits, dusted upon their shoulders. She asked Grim to buy her a few things in the market to wear, and—with more than enough complaining—he surprisingly complied.