The first time Isla met Celeste, she’d felt relief. She had learned about the other rulers of realm her entire life. Four of them were terrifyingly old and skilled, alive when the curses were spun. The original heirs of the fallen rulers who had sacrificed themselves for the prophecy. Isla was no match against them, no matter how long and hard she trained. They were the stars of her nightmares, each of them killing her in her dreams a thousand times before the Centennial invitation had even arrived.
The Starling was a mystery. Young like Isla. Disadvantaged because she would have no Terra or Poppy, no one ancient and wise to guide her, thanks to their curse.
Still, Starlings were powerful.
She is your enemy, Terra would tell her. An informant had long ago announced to her guardians that the latest in the long string of Starling rulers was a girl. One of you will lose.
Terra convinced her that as the youngest two, they would be preyed upon to fulfill part of the prophecy. Only one of the two would live.
It must be you.
So, when Isla accidentally portaled her way directly into the Starling ruler’s newland castle with her starstick, and the girl just looked at her and smiled, a weight was taken from her chest.
“I think the starstick knew I needed you,” Isla would tell Celeste years later during one of their many secret sleepovers.
“And that I needed you,” Celeste replied, squeezing her hand tightly. Not enemies—
Friends.
Sisters. That word did a much better job at encapsulating their bond, a relationship Isla could have never prepared for after a life alone. She loved Celeste more than anyone. Even her guardians.
It was only natural to tell the Starling her secret, three years after they met.
It was because of her love for her friend that she had been honest.
“I understand if you don’t want to work together anymore,” Isla had said. “Truly, Celeste. I would understand.”
Celeste had held her tightly as they both cried. Knowing Isla’s powerlessness complicated everything. Knowing there was a big possibility that the other rulers would find out during the Centennial, and Isla would die once the rest of the prophecy was fulfilled.
“No,” the Starling whispered into Isla’s shoulder after a long while. “We work together. Always.” Taking her face into her hands, she looked right into Isla’s eyes and made a promise. “I will protect you. We will walk away from the Centennial and into the rest of our very long lives together.”
That was why Isla listened—or tried to. Celeste had put herself and her entire realm in danger, forming an alliance with her.
And Isla might have already ruined it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the floor of Celeste’s room. It was past midnight, so no one would hear their whispers. They had barely seen each other, knowing being caught visiting each other’s rooms would mean the end of their secret plan.
But tonight, Isla had taken the risk.
Celeste shook her head. Sighed. She was braiding her silver hair just to do something with her hands. Her friend often busied herself when she was anxious. Before the Centennial, Celeste had made a blanket with her stress, knitting for hours on end, until Isla had finally hidden the needles. “We can’t mend what is done,” she said simply.
Silence spread, and it always made Isla uncomfortable. She filled it with excuses. “I mean, was I just supposed to lose against Grim? I couldn’t. That’s what he wanted.” Though his grin at being defeated hinted otherwise
. . .
She had no idea what he wanted.
Celeste gave her a look. “You weren’t supposed to make yourself a target.”
Isla didn’t know why she rolled her eyes, but she did, suddenly annoyed.
That was when the Starling stood. Energy crackled in the room, a sure sign that she was angry. “You need to think long term,” she said sharply, hands in fists at her sides. “Islanders were watching. All the rulers were watching. You beat Grimshaw. You nearly beat the king. Do you mean to
make enemies, Isla? Do you mean to become someone the other rulers want to get rid of?”
Isla looked away. “Of course not.”
“Then you need to listen. We have a plan. Complete the demonstrations without notice. Be the young, inexperienced rulers they already see us as, so the winner of the demonstrations hopefully pairs us up. That allows us to search for the bondbreaker, to work together, without having to hide our alliance.” Isla was surprised when Celeste’s voice broke. She had only seen the Starling cry a handful of times before. “It allows me to spend time with you without making anyone suspicious. To protect you.” A silver tear shot down her cheek. She took a shaking breath as Isla made her way to her friend, instantly ashamed. “I can’t protect you if you won’t listen.”
Isla threw her arms around Celeste, holding her close.
The truth was, if the Starling ruler only wanted to survive and save her realm, she would have abandoned Isla. She knew her secret, after all. It would be easy to share it with everyone else. To guarantee Wildling would die, over Starling, when the time came to choose a ruler and realm to sacrifice.
But she hadn’t. Because they were sisters.
Celeste was a better friend than she deserved.
“I’m sorry,” Isla said. “I promise, I’ll think of the plan. I promise to listen.”
Later, Celeste told Isla that she had searched the Star Isle library. “It wasn’t there,” she said. One library off their list.
A pang of disappointment rattled through Isla’s stomach. Their plan would have been far easier if the bondbreaker had ended up being a Starling relic.
“I’m going after the gloves next,” she said. Isla’s head jerked up. She met Celeste’s eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said quietly. “Like you didn’t know this was next.” She dipped her chin. “Like this wasn’t your idea.”
Of course Isla knew this part of their plan was next. If the bondbreaker wasn’t in the Star Isle library, they would need a way to get into the protected sections of the other isles’ collections.
The gloves were crucial to getting inside them.
This particular type of enchanted accessory was well-known throughout even the newlands—gloves that were able to harness a whisper of a realm’s power. Isla had researched them obsessively, believing they could help her during the Centennial. All she would have to do was capture a bit of Poppy’s or Terra’s ability to wield nature and use them to pretend . . .
Unfortunately, the gloves were dangerous to procure. It was said they were made of skinned human flesh. Only dark markets in the newlands would dare sell such a thing—and Isla had searched nearly all of them.
They were rarer nowadays. Not regularly made. Doing so wasn’t typically worth the hassle. The power they held was minimal. Inconsequential.
Unless someone found a very specific use for them.
Isla had suggested the gloves when they needed a way to get into the libraries, as a last resort.
“You look ill, Isla,” Celeste said, frowning at her. She swallowed. “How are you going to get a pair?”
Her friend studied her. Sighed. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
Perhaps she would be ill. “If you have to make new ones, go to the prison. Pick a killer, someone terrible—”
Celeste grabbed Isla’s shoulders almost painfully, bringing her back into the moment, steadying her. “This is my part of our plan,” she said. “Focus on yours.”
Right. Hers. Isla had volunteered to search the other three libraries. Once they had the gloves, her role would truly begin. “Speaking of my role
. . .” she said. It was her turn to share her bad news about not being able to secure the Sunling clothing.
Celeste’s brows folded together. “That’s strange . . .” She pursed her lips. “Though, on Star Isle, the nobles did tell me suspicious things have been happening since the last Centennial. Sunling has separated itself more than ever from the other realms. They stay mostly on their own isle.”
“Do you think the king is behind it?”
Celeste frowned. “I’m not sure. But I don’t trust him at all.”
Neither did Isla. Even if he had saved her the first day of the Centennial.
After their duel, she was willing to bet he didn’t trust her either.
“That’s not the only thing,” Celeste said, and Isla braced herself for an added obstacle. “Moonling has also been acting oddly. My nobles said they have guards on their bridge every day. All day.”
Isla cursed. How was she supposed to sneak onto Moon Isle and search its library with guards at its entrance?
She was allowed to enter, but her movements would surely be shared with Cleo.
Who would immediately become suspicious. “Did you check?” Isla asked.
Celeste nodded. Her friend was always thorough. “I went for a stroll along that part of the isle and confirmed it. Two guards, right at the front, checking everyone in.”
Two Moonlings would not stand between them and their plan.
“I’ll find a way,” Isla said, eager to help after her display at the duel. And hoping it wasn’t just one more promise she couldn’t keep.
