Cleo could feel pain?
“We both want the same thing. For our realms to survive.
We can help each other.” Cleo looked doubtful, and Isla growled. “I know you hate me, but you love your people. Do it for them.”
To her immense surprise, the Moonling smirked. “I don’t hate you,” she said. Then she turned, and the ice around her retracted, curling back to its source.
Only when she was almost at the palace’s front doors did Isla hear the Moonling ruler say, “I’ll consider it,” before sweeping inside.
Grim was coming to destroy Lightlark in twenty-nine days.
From her vision, she had figured an attack was inevitable, but that didn’t help the pain of knowing someone she once cared about was set on destroying everything she now loved.
Oro was irrevocably connected to Lightlark, as king. If the island fell . . . so would he.
All representatives were called for a meeting first thing the next morning. Isla hadn’t told Oro about her visit to Cleo the night prior. As she watched the door, her hope the Moonling would stay withered. Grim’s declaration of an attack was the perfect excuse for Cleo to leave Lightlark once and for all, on her ships. The Moonling newland was well established and not under threat. It would be so easy for Cleo to take her people and flee.
They couldn’t leave. If the other realms went to war with Nightshade they would need Moonlings and their healers more than ever.
Enya was at her side, curling and uncurling her fingers. Anxiety spiraled through the room. The same people from the dinner were present now, but this time there were no floating foods or flame-trimmed goblets, or fish trapped in ice.
This time, instead of whispers, there was only silence.
The clock began to chime, marking the hour.
Just before the last ring, Cleo swept into the throne room, and Isla tried her best not to fall out of her chair in surprise. The Moonling ruler had listened.
She had stayed.
Soren’s cane cracked against Cleo’s icy wake as they both made their way to their seats.
Oro did not waste a moment. “We have twenty-nine days before Lightlark is under siege. Twenty-nine days to figure out how to stop Grim.”
Silence broke open, and questions spilled over.
“Can he even do that?”
“Does he control the winged beasts from the coronation attack?”
“It’s five realms against one; we can protect the island, can’t we?”
“What did he mean ‘new future’？”
One of Isla’s necklaces sat heavy against her throat as she swallowed, seeing flashes of her vision.
Grim could do it. Grim could destroy them all.
She blinked and found Cleo watching her intently. The Moonling wasn’t focused on the lively debate around her. She was just staring at Isla, the specter of a smile on her mouth, the look of someone who knew a secret.
“Yes?” Cleo said suddenly, responding to Oro, because apparently, she had been listening. Her eyes remained fixed on Isla’s.
“Is the oracle awake?” Oro asked.
She shook her head. “I visited the moment I returned to the isle, and she refused to thaw.”
There was muttering. Heat flamed from Oro, but he moved on to his next question. “How many healers do you have?” Oro asked.
“Nearly a hundred on Lightlark. Triple that on the newland,” Cleo answered.
Isla jumped in. “Combined with our healing elixirs, we’ll be able to heal almost any injury. We’ll start producing more right away.” Her back was straight. She glanced at Soren, daring him to question her the way he had at the last dinner. He said nothing.
“Both will be critical,” Azul said. He trailed his gem-covered fingers across the table and shook his head. “If Grim is taking on all other realms, he must be well equipped, and determined. He must want something. This isn’t just about destroying the island, or he would have done it during the curses, when we were most vulnerable.”
For a moment, Oro’s eyes flicked to Isla. She knew what he thought.
Grim wanted her.
No. If this was about wanting her, he could have appeared at this very moment and taken her. She agreed with Azul. There was a purpose for Grim’s destruction. If they knew what it was, perhaps they could stop him.
Oro’s gaze was pure fire. “Whatever he wants, his intent is clear. He is coming to destroy us. We need to use every resource we have, every bit of ability.” He addressed them all. Heat scorched the room. “This is our home. It is our future. Our power lives here. Without the island, our realms will die. We have twenty-nine days to either save Lightlark . . . or lose it forever.”
That night, Isla curled against Oro’s chest and traced him in the darkness. His cheeks. His lips. She touched him gently, just the slightest brush of her fingertips, and felt him shiver. “Oro,” she said. “Growing up, I didn’t experience seasons. It was always warm. But there were a few weeks in the middle of the year when everything felt the most alive. I called that summer, and I used to wish that it would last forever.” She frowned against the memory of her vision. “You and me . . . we built an endless summer. And I won’t let anyone destroy it.”
The next morning, he was gone when she woke up. The clock had started counting down, and chaos ensued. Word of Grim’s warning had spread, and people rushed the castle, frantic, looking for answers.
Every willing and able adult was expected to begin training.
It had been centuries since war. Many of the best fighters had died during the curses. Oro went off to Sun Isle, with Enya, to get their forces together. Azul assembled his flight force, a legion in the sky.
Isla felt uncertain about asking any of the Starlings to fight, given most were barely older than children. A few people on the Starling newland volunteered to fight, and the rest who could wield would make weapons and provide energy for a shield that could be used to protect parts of the island.
That night, before going to Oro’s room, she went to her own. She didn’t make it past the entryway before pausing.
There was a flicker of curling white fabric on her balcony.
Cleo.
The Moonling ruler stood there, hands gripping the ledge, facing the sea. Her white hair cut through the night in sharp strands. Her dress was a pale puddle across the stone floor.
Isla swallowed. She wondered if she should be afraid. She waited for the fear to come . . . but it didn’t.
A greater danger was coming. Grim was coming. Fears were relative, she realized. They could feel smaller when placed next to bigger ones.
She wasn’t afraid of Cleo. Not anymore.
The door creaked as it opened. From this angle, the full moon looked like a halo around Cleo’s head. It lit her white dress and skin—she was a candle without its wick. The Moonling didn’t even turn around as she said, “It was a night just like this.” Isla eyed the pool of water around Cleo’s dress. “The worst night of my life. It was a full moon . . . just like this one.”
Isla leaned against her door. “What do you want, Cleo?”
Cleo almost smiled. It was a sad expression. “Tonight? It might surprise you . . . but I want to help you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That does surprise me,” Isla said. Vines crawled up the cliff, until they reached her balcony. They didn’t stop until they wrapped around Isla’s arms and down her palms. “Considering you tried to kill me.”