Zed nodded. “Smart,” he admitted.
“I’m still trying to figure out how many talented wielders are on Star Isle, but I’m going to assume they’re limited.” She had asked Maren to get back to her with a list of the best, but so far she hadn’t received it. “So, the shield will be small, but it might mean we can reduce where Nightshade can attack.”
Calder nodded. “I can freeze parts of the sea around the island to limit where their ships are able to land too.”
“He’s not coming from the sea.” Dread churned in Isla’s stomach.
Calder frowned. “You think he’ll arrive from the skies?”
“No.”
That was when she told them about Grim’s portaling flair. He and his army could appear anywhere, at any time. There would be no warning except for the one he had already given them.
Silence.
Zed paled even more. He bit out a curse word that almost perfectly encapsulated the situation.
“Exactly,” Oro said. “To have any chance at winning, we need to be smart. We need to be ready.”
“We need to find out why he’s coming to destroy Lightlark in the first place,” Zed said.
She agreed with him. All she had to do was remember. “Until we figure that out, Wildlings can work with the island’s topography,” she said. “We can cover the Mainland in barbs, or thorns, or poisonous plants, so they are forced to appear exactly where we want them.” She remembered a grain of something helpful from her memories. “Bog sand, even. It . . . traps anyone that steps in it.”
Oro nodded. He looked impressed. “We can fence them in.”
“Exactly.”
Zed leaned back in his chair. “That won’t stop the winged beasts, though. We can only assume Grim will bring them.”
Dreks. Her gaze met Oro’s.
She knew she should probably tell them about her vision, but they were strangers. She couldn’t trust them with the knowledge of her and Grim’s history, or their memories . . .
It was a good thing Zed brought the creatures up first. He was right. She and the rest of the Wildlings could use nature to make the Mainland as uninhabitable as possible, but none of that stopped creatures that could fly.
“You haven’t been able to locate the ore yet?” Oro asked.
Zed shook his head. “We’re working on it, but the Forgotten Mines are tough to navigate, and the ores are almost impossible to extract. We should be able to get some soon, though.”
“We need that metal,” Enya said. “Making arrows for the Skylings should be the priority. They’ll be crucial in the air, so those creatures don’t pick us all off.”
Yes. The Skylings would be critical. Without them at the coronation, many more people would have died.
Just then, Azul rushed in, wind on his back. “Apologies. The meeting went . . . longer than anticipated.” Isla noticed Azul’s typically jovial tone was completely missing. His expression was grave. He didn’t even bother sitting down, before saying, “We have a problem.”
“My people want to leave Lightlark,” Azul said.
The world came to a halt. No one moved a muscle. Isla remembered how silent the Skyling representatives had been during their meeting.
No. They had already lost Moonling. They couldn’t lose another realm. Wildling and Starling were the smallest; even with her people fighting, it wasn’t enough—
“It’s decided?” Calder asked.
“Not yet. But there will be a vote soon, and it isn’t looking good.”
Oro’s eyes were raging amber. “We need you in the skies.” His hands were pressed firmly against the table.
“I know,” Azul said. “I want to fight. It is not my choice, however. My realm—”
“The island will fall,” Oro said, his voice rising. “You understand that would be the end of your people. One generation, maybe two, and then the power you draw from would dry up.”
Azul sighed. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired, like he had been up all night arguing with his representatives. “I know that, Oro,” he said. “I do. But in the end, it will be their decision.”
“How do we change it?” Enya said. “There has to be something they want. Something your realm needs.”
Azul shook his head. “I spoke to them for hours. I don’t think there’s any changing their mind. There will be debates. Then, a vote.” He didn’t look hopeful. Azul’s eyes were burning then, filled with meaning he hadn’t put into words, as he looked at them. “I’m sorry,” he said.
He left the room, and there was silence.
Heat swept across them all. Oro’s brow was pinched. He ran a hand down his face.
“If we lose Skyling, we lose the war,” Enya said. Her eyes were on the table. She was leaned back in her chair. “The winged beasts will decimate us, if Grim brings them, even if we do manage to find the special metal.”
“Then we can’t lose Skyling,” Zed said.
She threw her hands up. “You heard him, Skylings cannot be bought or bartered with. Nothing we have could convince them.”
Oro pressed two fingers against the side of his head. “The Skyling vote will take time. We have to operate under the assumption that we will lose the flight force and a large part of our legion.”
“We need more soldiers, then,” Zed said. He leaned farther back in his chair. “Calder and I already went to the corners of Lightlark. Gathered all the outside communities. Most have agreed to fight. Without Moonling and Skyling, it’s still not enough though, and we’ve exhausted our allies.”
A thought occurred to Isla. Oro’s eyes met hers as she said, “Then what if we turn to our enemies?”
“Which enemies?” Enya asked.
“The Vinderland.” The violent group they had encountered on their search for the heart of Lightlark.
“Absolutely not,” Oro said.
“We’re desperate, Oro,” she said. “We just likely lost another realm.”
“We’re not that desperate,” he said through his teeth.
“We need more warriors. They are warriors.”
Oro shook his head, unbelieving. “Do I need to remind you that I watched them put an arrow through your heart?”
He didn’t need to remind her. She saw the angry mark in the mirror every time she got dressed. If it hadn’t been for the power of the heart of Lightlark, and Grim saving her, she would be dead.
Isla shrugged a shoulder. “That’s in the past. We need them now. And we have a common enemy. They already hate Moonlings, right? They’ll likely hate them more now that they’ve teamed up to destroy their home.”
“Who they hate most is Wildlings,” Oro said pointedly.
Isla knew that. Oro had told her during the Centennial that the Vinderland used to be Wildlings, far before the curses ever existed. She stood from her chair without breaking his gaze. “But I am not just Wildling,” she said. She was also Nightshade. The Vinderland were not the only people who lived in the shadows of the island. There were other night creatures they had encountered during the Centennial. Perhaps she could convince them to fight.