Each day after the ball held ruin. An ancient building fell into the sea. Another elder died. Another crack formed overnight, dividing the Mainland. The cursed storm grew along the coast. Still trapped in place, it began to rage. Thick bolts of lightning would strike at the same time every night, loud enough that Isla heard them wherever she was. Counting down the days.
The heart was not in either location on Sky Isle. Or Sun Isle, which Oro searched himself.
It was the last place Oro had said he wanted to look. But on the fifty-ninth day of the Centennial, the time came to search where darkness met light on Moon Isle.
Isla wondered about the guards. Oro had hinted at not wanting Cleo to know they were looking for something on her isle.
But the king had a solution. One that Isla didn’t appreciate. “I’ll go slow,” he said, surprising her.
Isla gave him a look.
“Slower,” he amended.
She didn’t want to ever experience flying again, but she also couldn’t think of another way past the guards that didn’t require telling him about her starstick. “If you drop me—”
“You will gut me, I am aware.”
Then she was in the air. She buried her face in his chest, scrunching her eyes against the wind. His hand was splayed across her back, his grip a bit too loose for her comfort, so she clung to his neck tightly.
“You know,” he said into her ear, “I used to wonder how Wildlings carved hearts out with only their nails.” One of the hands that was supposed to be holding her securely reached back and smoothed down her own fingers, one by one, until they didn’t dig into his skin any longer. “Now, I know they’re sharp as daggers.”
Isla poked her head up to give him a withering look. “I wouldn’t have to cling so much if you held me properly.”
“Properly?”
She nodded. “More tightly. More securely.”
Oro shifted his hands. Suddenly, instead of being loosely held in front of him, she was cradled against his chest. Her entire body warmed from his heat. It was almost comfortable. “Better?” he asked. She expected his tone to be mocking. But it wasn’t.
“Better.”
Before she knew it, Oro landed, his arms tightening around her as they made contact.
The second she was away from him, frost filled her chest. Moon Isle had gotten significantly colder since the last time she was here. Her eyes darted to Oro. He was the reason. Since Lightlark and his control of it was weakening, he could no longer keep it warm. Or bright. The days were dimmer. The sun set sooner. All parts of the island were noticeably cooler. Dozens more hearths and torches had been added across the Mainland and inside the castle. But they were only a temporary solution.
They had landed on the edge of a forest of trees that looked more like knotted, twisted roots, delicately braided at the top. Streams navigated between them, transporting water lilies and fat white flowers as big as her palms. It was so silent, she could hear the snow falling. She shivered, cold air puffing from her lips. Her fingers already felt frozen; her toes were tiny blocks in her boots. Wind bit against her cheeks and nose, and her eyes watered and stung.
Suddenly, Isla screamed.
In the middle of the silence, a dark-blue bird like ocean made into wings landed on her shoulder and screeched right into her ear.
Oro turned and struck immediately, without waiting to see what the threat was. His fire curled through the night, right to where the bird had been—but it was too fast and went flying away, back through the woods.
His arm dropped as he watched it. When he turned to Isla, his eyebrows were slightly raised. “Aren’t you supposed to be good with animals?”
“Not when they blow out my hearing,” she said, gingerly cupping her ear. “Aren’t you supposed to have more care with your fire?”
Oro’s jaw tensed—she had struck a chord, it seemed. “Yes,” he said tersely.
They walked in silence until the ground turned to ice. She could see the roots of the trees below the crystal-like veins, dark as night. They reached a cliff where snow began to cake the ground like frosting. Her boots quickly got stuck in it, so she trailed behind Oro, whose steps melted a path. Snowflakes got lost in her hair and piled on her nose, and she felt as cold as one of the ice statues that sat in front of the Moon Isle palace.
After an hour, her breathing became panting, and she must have slowed, because Oro finally turned. One look at her, and he offered his hand. “I can warm you.”
She wanted to say no. But she was done being proud. She gripped his hand with her own, and he frowned.
“You’re freezing.” He said it like an accusation.
Isla wanted to glare at him, but her eyes stung too much to make the movement.
In a quick sweep, he removed his golden cape and draped it around her. It was so large, it wrapped Isla like a blanket. She wanted to reject it, but the moment it touched her skin, her body was flooded with heat that seemed to melt through her bones. Her face buried in the fabric, shoulders shivering as she tied it closer around herself. It smelled like honey and mint leaves, deliciously soft against her skin.
When she finally peeked her head out of the cape and buttoned it around her neck, Oro was watching her warily. “Are you . . . all right?” he asked, as if the idea of hypothermia and dying of cold had never once crossed his mind.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, raising her chin as if doing so did anything to make her look less ridiculous. She walked past him, into snow that drenched her ankles in cold. “Thank you.”
Oro followed behind, and she must have been walking in the right direction, because he didn’t say a word. She did not stop until she reached a slab of ice so large, it was like a glacier that had gotten trapped on land.
Isla squinted at it. There was something inside. She inched closer and wiped at it with Oro’s cape. Some of the frost cleared, and she startled, tripping backward, right into Oro, who steadied her before she could fall into the snow.
Three women were trapped within the ice.
“The oracles,” he said, hands falling from her shoulders.
She blinked too many times. “I thought there was one.” “Only one has thawed in the last thousand years.”
“Why are they here?”
Oro stepped to her side. “A king far before me trapped them in ice, so they would never leave, or die. Three women born with the gift of prophecy. Enraged at being imprisoned, two of them joined forces with Nightshade, calling to the dark part of the island. When Night Isle was destroyed, they froze forever.”
“So, this is a place where darkness meets light.”
Oro nodded as he placed a hand against the ice. It immediately began to thaw.
The middle woman’s eyes flew open. She floated in the water, her white hair a halo around her head. Her gaze went to Isla, then Oro, then back again.
Her voice echoed, sounding like a million voices trapped in one throat. “It’s been a long time since I saw a Sunling and a Wildling side by
side.” She angled her body toward them, her face just inches from their
own. “I’ve been warned not to help you . . . but this is just too curious . . .”
This was the woman who had spoken the prophecy of the curses. The key to breaking them. Her words were the ones they followed like law. The ones she had learned from the time she could talk.
“Warned by who?” Oro demanded.
The oracle shook her head. “That I cannot say. But I will say more than I’ve promised not to.”
Cleo. It had to be Cleo.
“So many secrets, trapped between you,” she continued. The oracle scratched along the ice with a long nail, and the sound made Isla wince. “But, just like this wall, they too will one day give way and unravel and fall
. . . leaving quite a mess and madness.”
Isla avoided meeting Oro’s gaze. The oracle met her eyes with a knowing look. Knowing everything. She grinned.
“Enough of your riddles,” Oro said. “We seek the heart of Lightlark. Is it here?”
The oracle smiled wider. “It is near. Nearer than you know.” “So, it’s on Moon Isle?” Isla said.
The oracle nodded. Relief nearly brought her to her knees. “Where?”
The woman shook her head. “That I cannot divulge. You both must find it on your own. That is the only way to successfully wield the heart.”
Isla glared at her.
The oracle stared back. “You . . . have many questions. There are so many things I could tell you . . . though I should not.” She looked at her knowingly. “All will be revealed soon enough.”
Isla’s stomach puddled. Could she truly mean that her secret would be revealed? No.
“Know this,” the oracle said. “There are lies and liars all around you, Isla Crown.”
Lies and liars.
Who?
“And one of the six rulers will indeed be dead before the hundred days are over.” Which ruler? Did that mean the curses would be broken?
Isla took a step forward, willing the right words to form in her head, the right question. But before the words could leave her lips, the oracle smiled.
And the water hardened into ice.
Isla banged on it with knuckles that immediately spotted with blood.
Still, she kept pounding, over and over, her hand raw and throbbing.
Finally, Oro placed his hand over hers, stopping it. “She’s gone,” he said. “And she will not awaken again anytime soon.”
Her hand stayed splayed across the ice for another long moment before she tore it off. She turned to Oro. He had secrets too. The oracle had confirmed as much.
So much for sharing them all.
Lies and liars . . . Had the oracle meant him? Or someone else?
And which one of the six rulers would perish?
Though she was disappointed, terrified . . . the oracle’s information had been invaluable.
“How many other places on Moon Isle qualify?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. The oracle had warned her that her secret would be revealed. They needed to find the heart soon, before that happened. Before the island was no more than rocks and ruins.
“Three.”
Three. Isla breathed out and leaned against the ice, relief making her limbs go weak. The cape kept her warm, and she cradled her bloody knuckles against the fabric. “Three,” she repeated. “Can we go tonight?”
Oro shot a look at the sky. “No,” he said quietly. “We . . . I don’t have time. One place is easier to access than the others. And, for both of our sakes, let’s hope that is where the heart is.”
Isla nodded, though her teeth locked in disappointment. She wanted to find the heart that night, as soon as possible, so she could break the curses, free her people, and get the power before the oracle’s words could come true. Before her secret came to light and made her a target for fulfilling the rest of the prophecy.
“Tomorrow?” she said, cape wrapped tightly around her. “Tomorrow,” Oro agreed.
