Alone. No one understood her, not really. Oro tried, he really did, but there were parts of her she would never let him see.
She wondered if a bonded animal would be able to sense every aspect of her—the good and the bad. The potential. The idea of someone or something seeing her for what she could be, instead of what she was . . .
Or maybe the creatures of the forest had already assessed her, and rejected her, just like the vault. It wasn’t enough for her to feel the connection. According to Wren, the animal decided.
For now, it seemed, they had decided against her.
A rustle, and she turned to find herself facing a wolf, covered in moss and greenery instead of fur. Its tail was made of long reeds. Isla raised her arrow. Hope built in her chest. The wolf wasn’t large, but at least it was something.
Before she could let her arrow loose, the wolf was gone.
Her fingers curled painfully around the bow. Slow, she had been too slow. Is that why it had run away?
What if she didn’t see another creature?
Moments later, she realized that wouldn’t be an issue. A spider with legs as tall as trees walked by, its body casting a thick shadow around her. Isla didn’t even raise her weapon. The spider was massive, but she felt no connection to the creature whatsoever.
She just needed to keep going, she told herself. There was a bonded for her here. She just needed to find it.
Her bare feet were soundless against the moss of the branch. Tiny flowers bloomed with her every step, painting the greenery. The occasional bird swooped down to study her, before flying away. She walked down the path as it curved into a forest floor shaded by a massive canopy of treetops. A giant rib cage greeted her, with flowers growing out of its bones—the remains of a creature so large, she couldn’t even imagine what it had looked like alive.
Just then, a stag with branches for horns stepped into her path. It stared at her, tilting its head in wonder.
It was beautiful. Something in her chest thrummed to life as if welcoming the connection. She slowly raised her bow, clicked her arrow into place—
The stag stepped toward her, then froze. Its eyes focused on a place behind her. It shuffled back in fear.
What was—
A deafening roar shook the trees at her sides. Birds flew away, in the opposite direction. Hot breath heated her body as she was covered in spit.
Slowly, arrow still raised, Isla turned around and looked up. And up. And up.
A giant bear stood on its two feet, with a crown of horns that could skewer her in a moment.
Was this her creature? It would certainly mark her as a strong ruler. Isla released the arrow, trying her chance, but the bear knocked it away with a paw, breaking the wood in two.
Her only arrow, gone.
Isla wasn’t thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t be able to find a bonded now. Panic had taken over. She dropped the bow. The bear roared again, getting close to blowing out her hearing, and Isla realized why Wren had seemed so intent on leaving the swamp.
Venturing to this area of the newland was a risk. Her people were endangering their own lives by letting her complete the ceremony.
This was the first step in them trusting her, she realized. A leap of faith. They believed she was strong enough to survive it.
So, she would.
The bear was too large, there was no hope in outrunning it. Just as it reached back its clawed hand to rip her to ribbons, she darted between its feet and ran up into the treetops. The bear couldn’t climb; it was too heavy, it would break the branches. That was what she told herself as she climbed as fast as ever, purple rings of flowers down her arms seeming to glow in the dark.
She scurried up, higher and higher, and risked a look behind—
Only to see the bear’s horns inches away, as it climbed after her.
Nature. She was in nature. Her heart was beating too wildly to form a connection to the woods the way she had before. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus. Her arm shot out, and she managed to make a few smaller branches fall in the bear’s path, but it did nothing to slow it down.
She needed to break the branches below the bear. That way, it would fall through the treetops. She threw her powers out, but panic had clouded her mind, weakening her hold on her abilities. The branches creaked but did not crack.
The bear growled, and Isla began climbing once more. Heart echoing through her ears, she squinted through the night and saw that the branches became much thinner farther up the tree. She threw out her power, and one broke. It would have to be one of those, then.
Isla reached for the next branch—and roared as the bear’s horns flayed the back of her calf open.
Her scream echoed through the woods, and she continued to climb, dragging herself up, one of her legs now useless, fighting her way to the top. If she could just make it a little higher. A little—
A crack. The first crack beneath the bear’s weight as they traveled up to the thinner branches. It didn’t seem to notice as its horns broke through the foliage, as it bared its teeth, chomping at the air.
Her leg was on fire; she couldn’t think around the pain. She felt her grip on her powers almost completely slipping. She didn’t have the strength left to break several branches. It would have to be one strategic cut. She stopped climbing and watched the bear get closer. Closer. She took a breath. In. Out. Attempted to focus as much as she could. Narrowed all her energy to one spot, one particularly thin branch, right in the bear’s path. It kept going. It was just feet away. Then inches. She outstretched her hand. Nothing.
Come on.
Nothing.
She felt its breath on her face, saw its tongue in its mouth as it parted its teeth and roared—
Snap.
Her power split the branch in half, and the bear immediately fell out of view. Cracks sang through the woods as the bear broke everything in its path, and then there was a final thunderous echo as it landed.
Silence.
Isla panted. Too close. She risked a look down at her leg and tensed. The skin was split and she could see muscle. Blood was smeared across the tree. Other creatures would find her—
Just as she had the thought, two large eyes glowed through the night, in the tree across the way. They were looking at her. She scrambled back on her branch, arm raised, willing any of her power to rise.
The creature stepped out of the shadows, and Isla gasped.
It was a massive black leopard. Standing, she wouldn’t even reach the top of its leg. It had bright-green eyes and teeth the size of her skull.
She looked down at her calf, then at the creature. It had smelled the blood. She was injured, an easy target.
It stalked toward her, head bent low, assessing. It looked ready to lean back on its haunches and strike.
She tried her best to focus on the forest, to form a connection, to beg it to protect her, but the pain in her leg had become a complete distraction.
The leopard should have been too heavy for the branches, but it leaped gracefully until it was right in front of her.
Isla’s entire body shook as it leaned down far too close—and sniffed her.
She swallowed, hoping for the life of her that she smelled unappetizing. It opened its mouth, revealing its monstrous fangs. Then, it did something unexpected.
The leopard begrudgingly leaned its head down, as if bowing before her.
Isla blinked. Had it . . . had it accepted her?
She didn’t have her arrow . . . the bear had split it into two. She couldn’t—