Nightbane (Lightlark, #2)(52)

“You—you’ve decided to attend?”

“Only if you help me find the sword.”

His aid would be invaluable. With Grim by her side—along with Celeste—she might really have a chance of surviving the hundred days on the island.

Still. Grim couldn’t be trusted. She and Celeste had a plan. She would find a way to get the gloves. “No.”

Grim’s shadows flared around him. “No?”

She shrugged. “No.”

His fingers twitched, as if desperate to turn her to ash, just as he had done with the shackles. Instead, he said, “Very well,” and turned to leave.

He made it to the end of the hall before she said, “Wait. You wouldn’t leave me here, would you?”

“I would.”

Her eyes bulged. No, no, he wouldn’t.

Who was she kidding? He was the ruler of Nightshade. Famed for his cruelty. He had killed thousands in his lifetime.

His steps retreated once more, before she said, “Fine! Fine. But only if you return my starstick.”

His lip curled back in disgust. “Your what?”

“My portaling device.”

With a flick of his wrist, it was in his hand. “I feel strongly that I will regret this,” he said, eyes narrowed, as he slipped it to her.

She grinned, cradling it in her arms. It was her most prized possession. Grim just frowned at her.

That was how she made a deal with a demon.





REVELATIONS


“There is a sword.”

Isla recounted her memory to Oro. It was the first one that seemed remotely helpful. “He said I could help him find it. He said it was powerful.”

Oro’s brows came slightly together. “Do you know anything else about it?”

“Not yet. But it might be the weapon the oracle says he has.”

Oro nodded. “Then we need to find out what it does.”

By the end of the day, Oro had dozens of people in every library and archive, searching for records of important swords.

Isla knew the answers would not be found in books but her own mind.

She just needed to remember.


The Wildlings didn’t seem surprised at the idea of war.

“This is what we’ve always trained for,” Wren said. There were nods around her.

“You—you want to fight?” Isla asked, doing her best to siphon surprise out of her tone. This was not really their battle. Wildlings hadn’t been on Lightlark in five hundred years. None of her people had been alive before the curses. They had never even stepped foot on the island.

Asking them to potentially die protecting it seemed like a stretch.

“Are you giving us a choice?” Wren asked.

Isla hesitated. Choice. She was their ruler. She could have ordered them. Should have, probably. Now, Grim had Moonling. Cleo had been building a legion. She had seen it herself during the Centennial, sneaking around the Moon Isle castle.

To defeat them, they would need as many warriors as they could get. Still . . .

“Yes,” she said quickly. Once the word was out of her mouth, she couldn’t take it back. “You have a choice.” Isla studied her people. Some looked determined. Others looked wary. “I hadn’t been to Lightlark until a few months ago,” she said. “I could have returned here and ignored the threat on the island, but I know if Lightlark falls, so do we. Eventually, without that power . . . we will cease to exist. I see a future where we return and claim our isle again. I see a future where we use the power of the island to help regain everything we lost.” She paused. “Who will fight alongside me for that future?”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, and Isla’s heart sank below her ribs. Wildlings were known to be among the best warriors. Without them—

One woman stepped forward. She had long hair tied into a braid and wore bracelets made from thorny vines.

Another.

Another.

Then, an entire group.

Isla wanted to smile, she wanted to cry, but she did neither. She nodded sharply and thanked them.

“For those who will not fight, I ask for something critical.” She was honest with them. “Moonling joined Nightshade.” There were a few murmurs. “They took their healers with them. To keep this war from destroying us, we need as many healing elixirs as possible.”

“It’s not something that can be rushed,” Wren said. “We only have one small patch of the flower left.”

Isla knew that. “We’ll need to find more,” she said. “We will need to search every inch of the isle for it.” She sighed. “The elixir will be the difference between life and death. We need everyone available to learn how to extract it.”

Wren nodded.

She faced the rest of her people. “Grim is coming to destroy Lightlark.” Her vision echoed in her head, and her heart started beating faster, each beat like the chime of a clock. “We are in a race to save thousands of lives.”

Lynx was waiting for her in the woods outside the Wildling palace when she was done. Now that part of Wild Isle had been restored by her and Oro, she had contemplated bringing him to Lightlark.

With Nightshade approaching, however, she didn’t know if it was the best idea.

“War is coming,” Isla told him, wondering if he really could understand her. “I . . . I saw a vision a while ago. Of someone I used to care about, destroying the world . . .” She swallowed. “He’s Nightshade, like my father.”