Nightbane (Lightlark, #2)(34)

Azul shook his head. “No one else.”

That couldn’t be true. Why only target her?

If what Ella said was correct, that there must be Starlings among the rebels . . . that didn’t make sense. They had hurt her. They could have killed her, which would have led to the deaths of all Wildlings and Starlings.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Isla caught up with Ella before she left the Mainland castle. She felt awkward asking her these questions, but she had to know. “Are the Starlings . . . are they disappointed that I’m their ruler now? Are they angry that I still haven’t visited?”

“No. They know you were attacked and that you’ve been busy since.”

Isla frowned. “They must resent me, though. They must—”

Ella laughed. Isla didn’t think she had ever seen the Starling laugh before.

“Isla,” she said softly. “All of us grew up accepting that our lives would be short and likely miserable. Few of us had any dreams. Or goals. Or hope. You gave us a chance to live. To most of us, you are a god. A savior.”

As she walked back to her room to change into her training clothes, Isla repeated the words she had told herself in the Wildling newland woods. She was strong. She was the ruler of Wildling.

And the ruler of Starling.

Isla closed her wardrobe after getting a dress and froze.

In the mirror, there was Grim, standing in a full suit of armor. He held his helmet loosely in his hand. Ready for war.

She spun around and shot her arm out. A branch from the tree of her room snapped off, then sharpened into a blade. It stabbed right through the room.

But it was empty.





CINDER


Star Isle was in ruins. Its castle looked long abandoned. Towers lay in the sparkling silver dirt. Windows had been blown open. The pathways were covered in rocks and trash. Ciel and Avel flew above, circling so high up she had to squint to see them. Ella was at her side.

Maren, the Starling representative from the dinner, met them at the entrance of the crumbling castle. There was a little girl with her, with the same shining dark hair, wide eyes, and light-brown skin. “My cousin,” she said curtly. The cousin stared at Isla and opened her mouth to say something a few times, but Maren gave her a look, and the little girl went quiet. “They’re all in the throne room.”

“Is everyone all right?” Isla asked. The Sunling guards at the bridge hadn’t seen the rebels. There were Skylings in the rebel group—they must have flown in from another isle. Their motivations were a mystery. Why only target her? “Did the rebels . . .”

“We’re safe. Thankfully, it seemed they were just recruiting. Or, perhaps, looking for something.”

She frowned. “Why do you think that?”

Maren raised a shoulder. “Why else venture through the crypts? They’re dangerous. All Starlings know that. No one goes inside them unless they’re desperate.”

When she walked into the castle, Isla’s stomach plummeted.

Much of the room was empty, and everyone was breathtakingly young. Children, mostly. Only a few dozen looked to be around her age.

They watched as she walked through the crowd, to the front of the throne room. There were no seats, and because they were all standing, so did she.

“I don’t know what I’m doing” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, and she almost instantly regretted it.

They just stared at her. There was just silence, until a voice said, “No one here does,” quite cheerfully.

“Cinder!” Maren said, shooting her cousin a look. “Forgive my cousin, Ruler.” The girl couldn’t be more than eight years old, and she didn’t stop beaming, even when Maren elbowed her side. Some people around her nodded.

“It’s okay,” Isla said, smiling at Cinder. She felt a little better . . . and worse. It might have been a relief to get here and see that someone had everything taken care of. “How many Starlings are left on Star Isle?”

“There are a hundred or so more,” a man closer to her age said. He looked to be one of the oldest among them, with a strong jaw, messy silver hair, and white skin. “Give or take.”

She frowned. “Did they know about the meeting?”

The man smiled without humor. “They knew.” There was something in between his teeth that he was chewing, long and glimmering.

“Okay.” Isla wove her fingers together and drew in a breath, straightening her spine. She wouldn’t let opposition deter her; it was to be expected. First, then, the simple questions. “Where do you all live?” She waved a hand around the throne room. “Here? In the castle?”

There was a bubble of laughter somewhere in the crowd.

“Some of us do,” Maren said, looking pointedly at a group of Starlings Isla could now tell apart from the others. Their clothes were nicer. They wore fine strings of constellation-like diamonds around their necks and wrists.

The nobles. Of course. She recognized some of them from the Centennial. There were eight of them in the group, all with different features, hair textures, and skin tones. Unrelated, it seemed. The last of their lines?

She turned back to the group. “And the rest?”

The man with the reed between his teeth lifted a shoulder. “We can show you.”

Yes. That would be better. She still had so many questions. How did they source food? Did most of them know how to wield power?