She did not re-sheathe her sword as she stepped forward, into a clearing. A massive lake sat in its center, a slice of silver in the shape of an eye. Its surface vibrated with a million raindrops, tiny circles everywhere, overlapping.
As she walked toward it, she tripped. A root—how did she miss it? No. Upon closer inspection, she saw it was not a root. It was a snake. Its metallic scales shined brightly. It writhed below, lifting its head as if to strike her. She took a step back and noticed a new shadow, casting long in front of her, all the way across the lake. It was too large to be a tree.
It hadn’t been there before.
Chest constricting, Isla slowly turned around.
Lightning struck again, reflecting off the scales of a coiled, hundred-foot-tall serpent.
Isla resisted the urge to scream.
There was the creature. One of them, at least. It was large enough that it could swallow her without any trouble at all. It could swallow a tower without any trouble. She took a step back—
It struck.
At the last moment, Isla rolled to the side, and its fangs sunk into the wet, silver-speckled ground.
Move. She needed to move. Avel and Ciel weren’t far behind, but by the time they got to her, it would be too late.
Before she could react, the serpent recovered and reared back, ready to strike again.
It launched into her, throwing her into the lake.
For a moment, there was silence as she fell through the ice-cold water, a thousand needles through her limbs. Bubbles exploded from the surface—
Then, there was the snake head. She cut her hand as she gripped both ends of her sword in front of her body, to keep it from swallowing her whole. The snake’s massive jaw only widened. Her arms shook as she struggled against its strength, as it pushed her farther and farther down into the water.
Her vision began to lose its sharpness. Her hands and feet began to lose their sensation. The options were clear. Either the serpent was going to eat her, or she was going to drown. Potentially both. She called to her power, but there was no foliage here, in the center of this lake. She tried her shadows and watched them dissolve in the water, useless.
Without warning, the serpent pulled back and she heard a muted roar through the water.
Mind spinning, chest pulsing in pain, lungs begging for air, she crashed through the surface, only to see that Ciel had dug his sword through the space between the serpent’s thick scales. It roared and raged, striking at the Skylings in the sky, as they battled with torrents of air.
She raced out of the water, dripping, freezing, in time to see the snake spin and strike Avel with its tail. She fell from the sky and landed in a heap on the ground. Her twin cried out, distracted, and the snake took that opportunity to attack—
It hit a wall of thorns instead.
Slowly, very slowly, the serpent turned around. Isla stood there, panting, arm raised. She had power.
She would use it.
Isla kicked off her shoes. She dug her feet deep into the muddy ground and focused. Found her center. Cleared her thoughts. The connection clicked.
She had been practicing.
Her eyes opened, and the forest raged. The woods rose around the serpent, so quickly it was trapped before it could move an inch. Thick roots acted as chains, tree trunks curled around its body, vines pinned it in place. By the time Isla was done, it couldn’t wriggle even an inch out of its prison. She expected the serpent to roar again, or try to strike, but it just watched her.
She was panting. Her chest felt hollow. Too much power had been used in too short of a period. Her gaze shifted to Ciel, who was cradling Avel’s head. Relief rained down her spine. The Skyling was awake.
Isla was about to tell Ciel to get his sister help, when the serpent suddenly slipped out of its confines. She watched, frozen in place, as the snake shrunk, turned, and uncoiled—
Until it became a woman.
She easily walked through the tower of restraints Isla had made, tilted her head, and said, “Wildling?”
Isla didn’t breathe as the woman stepped forward. She was wearing a long dress that trailed across the floor, made up of the same scales she had just worn across her body.
As a snake.
“What are you?” Isla demanded. She had never heard of a person being able to change into an animal before. It was an impossible ability.
The woman tilted her head at Isla, the movement purely serpentine. “You don’t recognize your own people?”
She . . . used to be Wildling? Had she somehow, like the Vinderland, abandoned her realm?
How was that even possible? It clearly wasn’t anymore, or most people would have abandoned their ties to their realms during the curses.
The woman nodded. “You’re putting it together, I can see it . . . your face is very expressive . . . not a very good trait as a ruler, is it?” She stepped forward, and it took everything in Isla not to recoil.
“The little girl,” Isla said, her voice shaking. “Is she—”
“She’s gone,” the woman said quickly. “Not me . . . but . . . all the same, there’s nothing left.”
Isla’s bottom lip trembled. Her eyes stung. Poor girl . . . she should have been here to protect her. “You . . . you kill children,” she said, her voice full of disgust.
The woman’s lip curled away from her mouth, baring teeth that were far too sharp. “Oh, and other Wildlings didn’t?” she took a step forward. “We have done what we needed to survive. We needed food. We’re no different from you.”
We. Were there more like her? Serpent-people? Or were the other ancient, deadly creatures different?
“It ends now,” Isla said. “I rule Starling, and you will stop killing them.”
The woman just looked at her. “Tell them to stop coming to this part of the isle,” she said. “We never hunted; we simply took whatever came wandering in. We could have killed them all, you know.”
Killed them all.
Isla wanted to kill the serpent-woman right then . . . but she thought about Zed’s words. They could use beings like her in battle.
“Nightshades are coming to destroy the island,” Isla said. “You will fight with us.” It was a command.
The woman looked at her. Then, she laughed. It was too loud, like the roar of the serpent, like the clap of thunder that sounded above. “Now . . . when you asked that, did you really believe I would say yes?”
Isla stepped forward. She worked every bit of command into her voice as she said, “You are Wildling. I am your ruler, and I am ordering you.”
The woman bared her teeth. Before Isla’s eyes, her dress became a tail. It took her half a second to be upon Isla, growing larger and larger, rising, serpent part piling beneath her. “I was Wildling,” she said. “I will not fight for you or anyone else on this island.” She leaned back as if to strike again. “I will let you live today, and you should take that as a gift.”
Avel was on her feet. Blood dripped down the side of her head, but she looked capable of flying. Before Avel and Ciel lifted her between them, Isla said, “You will not kill another Starling.”
She could hear the woman laughing as they took to the air and left.
It was only once she was in bed that night that Isla remembered a very different encounter with a snake.
BEFORE
Music thrummed through the day. Drums, everywhere. Laughter. Jeers. The sharp smell of alcohol that was so concentrated, it burned her nostrils.