Him. She met Oro’s eyes. The king was her destination. He stood tall and proud and golden, at the very bottom of the steps. There was a silver crown in his hands.
He looked at her like it was just them, no crowd, no crowns.
She took another step. Another. Until she was standing in front of him.
Oro didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She could read a thousand words in his amber eyes, like you can do this. I’m here for you.
The past few days, she had been avoiding him, knowing he would want her to begin her training. She felt ashamed. Her people needed her to be strong. He just wanted to keep her safe.
He raised the crown high above her, not wasting a moment, knowing she wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
“As king of Lightlark, I name you, Isla Crown, the ruler of Starling.” He placed the crown on her head. It was done.
There was a rumbling.
Oro had turned to address his people, but he paused, his brows coming together slightly.
Nervous murmurs spread through the crowd. There was a second of stillness, the island righting itself, and the people silenced, their momentary curiosity instantly forgotten. But Isla watched Oro, and his expression remained the same. Her hand inched toward the blade at her side.
Before her fingers reached the hilt, the island broke open.
The ground beneath her feet parted like a screaming mouth. She would have been swallowed if she had not been on its edge, on a part that rose like a sharpened tooth. Her body soared back with the force; she closed her eyes. Pain across her side was the only sign she had landed.
Screaming sliced the air in half as a scar tore across the castle steps in a rippling sweep, stone crumbling and falling away.
Both were drowned out by the screeching.
Winged, monstrous creatures howled as they barreled through the open fissure.
Their necks were short, their limbs long. Their tails were nearly nonexistent. Their anatomy almost resembled people, except for their faces—which were pure reptile—their black scales, and, of course, their wings.
In a few moments, they were everywhere.
Dozens of the creatures dropped down, aimed at the crowd. Isla put a hand above her, as if it would be any type of shield against the teeth that curved out of the beasts’ mouths like slanted blades.
Before the beasts could reach them, a blanket of flames erupted into a barrier. Oro. The heat was scalding, steaming Isla in her clothes. When the fire was pulled away, the creatures were gone, reduced to ash that rained upon them. Dozens were killed.
Before anyone could run for shelter, more creatures emerged.
The scar had to be closed. The beasts were rising in endless sweeps, squeezing through the gap. Groaning, Isla pushed herself up to her arms.
Oro was leaned over his knees, clutching his side. Any injury to the island hurt him as well. It must have felt like he was also being peeled open. Face twisted in pain, he lifted his hand and created another barrier, but the creatures closed their wings together in response, making themselves into sharpened arrows, talons at their fronts like blades. With cries that threatened to crack the sky into shards, they barreled through the protective sphere—
And feasted on them all.
Bones crunched, blood splattered, limbs were torn away. The beasts crashed down, undisturbed by Sunling flames, Starling sparks, or Skyling wind. Their talons tore through flesh as easily as swords through sand.
Azul shot up into the air, with a legion of Skylings surrounding him. They fought with bursts of wind, shooting the creatures down from the sky or slamming them against the island until they went still. Sunlings wielding swords covered in flames guarded people huddled behind the carts in the fair. All the islanders fought back, but many were no match for the creatures, whose hides resisted most uses of power. Before their strategy could be changed, most of them were torn in half by powerful jaws. Some islanders stopped using their abilities altogether, as it marked them as targets, and pressed themselves to the ground or ran.
Just like at the ball months before, Isla watched it all unfold, a helpless spectator. No. They might hate her, this might never feel like home, but she had to do something.
Isla stood on weakened legs, blood hot on the side of her face. She placed a hand over her heart. The heart that had been torn in two by an arrow. The one that was healed by the heart of Lightlark itself, the one that was linked to Oro’s own ability.
A heart that had, more times than not, failed her.
“Please,” she whispered, eyes on Oro, who was oscillating between killing swarms of beasts attacking his people and trying to close the scar the winged creatures were still flying through in droves.
She could help him. Wildling power included controlling rock and land. If she could manage to grasp some of that power, she could help all of them.
Isla closed her eyes. She focused on her breathing.
Nothing.
She stretched out her trembling hand. “Come on.”
Nothing.
The powers she had been born with were twisted together, making them harder to access. Her Starling abilities were not, however. They were there, just below the surface. She summoned them.
Nothing happened.
Perhaps she could focus on the link between her and Oro instead. Use his power. She looked at the king, whose arms were both shaking with effort, one outstretched at each side.
She felt it. Tried to grasp it. Nothing.
She shook her hand toward the cut in the ground, picturing herself sealing it shut with ice or burned rock or energy, willing with every bit of her being for it to close. “Come on!” she bellowed.
Nothing.
Her yell had attracted the attention of the closest winged creature. It opened its mouth, and a severed arm fell to the ground.
Then, it lunged at her.
Isla didn’t have a chance to scream or attempt to use power again. With just a flap of its wings, it was right above her. She saw the creature bare its teeth, open its massive jaw.
An inch from swallowing her head whole, the creature froze. Its wings moved slowly as it closed its mouth and lowered its face, as if to inspect her.
Isla didn’t know why, but she reached toward it, until the very tips of her fingers grazed the space between its eyes—entirely too aware eyes.
The beast blinked. Then, it opened its mouth again—
And screeched. The sound nearly popped her ears, and everything around her muted. She gritted her teeth, readying herself to be eaten alive.
But the creature only turned its head and left, with another screech.
The rest followed.
Isla watched them flee to the horizon, calculating the direction they were going. Nightshade. They were going toward Nightshade.
No. She remembered her vision in the Place of Mirrors . . . Grim attacking with shadows that killed everything in their path. She had convinced herself it was a figment of her imagination, but—
Maybe it was real.
By the time the beasts were just a smudge in the distance, Oro had closed the opening in the ground. Screams still pierced the air, along with the metallic scent of blood. The back of Isla’s throat burned with inhaled ash. The injured . . . their wounds didn’t look normal. Their skin looked ravaged by shadows. The lesions were growing, moving, slowly decaying everything in their path.
“You did this.”
The voice sounded smothered, faraway. Isla turned. A woman was standing in a sea of bodies, not far at all, pointing a finger right at her.