Skyshade (The Lightlark Saga Book 3) (The Lightlark Saga, 3) (Volume 3)
Skyshade: UNLEASHED

The winter palace seemed oddly removed from the rest of the world. Outside, nothing was heard but the faint calling of birds; and at night, nothing was seen but an endless sheet of stars.

As she stared out the wall of glass windows, she wondered how this place had survived centuries of storm seasons. She had seen the force of the tempests—and all they had destroyed—in just the last few months. She kept waiting for another one, but the sky here was still blue.

Grim said he wanted to show her something outside, and he motioned toward a set of clothes he had pulled from her wardrobe. She squinted at the pants that would disintegrate in the snow, socks that were meant for inside, and undergarments that weren’t at all suited for any type of exercise.

“What?” he asked as a smile played on her mouth.

“Nothing,” she said, pulling pants made of thick leather, a tight band and shirt to keep her chest warm and in place, and a long-sleeved shirt. “You know remarkably little about how women dress, for someone who’s been alive for half a millennium,” she said. He had likely asked an attendant to help him create her wardrobe.

Grim gave her a look. “Might I remind you, I was never meant to marry. I was never meant to have a woman in my quarters for more than a few hours.”

She smiled at him. It was true. She remembered the challenges of having the original ceremony. The surprise and outrage of the court.

Isla realized this room—the one that must have been his father’s centuries before—would never have had a woman living in it. Now her things were everywhere.

When she was dressed, Grim studied her, as if committing the pieces to memory, annoyed at having gotten it wrong before. She smiled as he led her out into the gardens.

They could have portaled anywhere, but they walked for miles, talking about everything from what was going on at the castle to how Lynx and Wraith were getting along.

“Your leopard is oddly protective of a creature that is several times his size,” he said.

“His name is Lynx,” she corrected, for the dozenth time.

“But he isn’t one,” Grim said, for also the dozenth time, exasperated. “You’re calling him by a different type of animal.”

“He likes it,” she said, glaring at him.

“Fine,” he said. “Lynx,” he frowned at the word as if it had insulted him, “is oddly protective of the aptly named Wraith.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Wraith might be huge, but he’s still a child. Lynx is older.” She sighed. “I’m just relieved Lynx hasn’t held Wraith’s bonded against him.”

Isla didn’t see the ball of snow until it was crashing into the side of her face.

She whirled around, fingers pressed to her temple. Grim was already holding another one.

“Don’t,” she said.

He threw it, and she only barely ducked in time.

“You said you’re ready to stop hiding.” He motioned at the fields around him, and the mountains at their back. “There’s no one for miles. Except for me.” She looked at him pointedly. “You can’t hurt me,” Grim said.

“Overconfident?”

“Try,” he said.

“No.”

“Try.”

“No.”

The ball of snow hit her right in the center of her chest. She gave him a look. “Fine. Remind yourself you begged me to put you flat on your ass when it hurts.”

If they were going to duel, she wasn’t going to use balls of snow.

He didn’t know about her skyre. He had kissed every inch of her skin last night, but it had remained hidden by Nightshade power. His own power, that she had used.

Which meant he didn’t know about her newfound control.

She flexed her hand toward the ground, and a sword of ice formed down her arm, the sharp point sliding against the snow. It didn’t feel like she was using Oro’s powers. No . . . this felt like her. If Grim was surprised by seeing her using Moonling ability, he didn’t show it. He just summoned a sword made of shadows that twisted and calcified.

Then, he struck.

Isla turned away at the last moment, then hooked her leg around his. With all the force she could muster, she knocked his legs from beneath him, but he was ready for her. Before he hit the ground, he was on the other side of the clearing. “Portaling isn’t fair,” she grumbled.

Grim chuckled. “Might I remind you, wife, that you have access to the same power.”

She did.

She portaled into the mountains, and he was right behind her. Their swords clashed, and then she was gone. Higher. They portaled their way up the cliffside, swords battling.

When he appeared right behind her, she swept her arms wide, and sent a wave of snow over him. She grinned, watching it glide down the mountain, but then she turned, and there he was. He sent her back with the force of his shadows, but she was already propelling herself into the air with a burst of Starling energy.

She landed with a crouch on the mountain top and waited for him. Waited.

A snowball hit her right in the ear.

She bared her teeth and turned around, replaceing Grim standing there, looking very pleased with himself.

Isla slowly stood and, eyes never leaving his, summoned her Starling shield, feeling it form from her toes, up her legs, her stomach, her chest, down her arms, over her neck. It was a glimmering second-skin, a fighting suit of stars.

Grim’s eyes trailed her body. “Impressive. What a striking star you make.”

Isla launched forward and, with the force of a meteor, crashed into him. Grim fell back with a whoosh, and she was pleased to have knocked the breath from him. They rolled across the clearing, just nearly falling off the side.

He landed above her, caging her in with his arms on either side of her face. His body was pressed against every angle of her.

Grim’s eyes swept down her form again. “I’ve never taken a woman on a mountain before.”

Just when he made to kiss her, she disappeared, leaving him in the snow.

Behind him, she said, “And you never will.”

Grim laughed darkly. He was behind her in an instant. “Will you be mad at me when I launch you off this peak?” he whispered in her ear.

Cocky demon. His shadows swarmed her, but she was too fast, she froze his shadows solid, and they fell into the snow. She shot herself back with a burst of energy, then began throwing ice dagger after ice dagger, aimed at his heart, his head, his neck. Each turned to ash just an inch before landing true. In response, he sent an army of snowballs in her direction, which bounced off her Starling shield. They didn’t touch her, but the force against her shield hurt.

It was too thin. She needed thicker. And she needed to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face.

Isla shielded herself completely in energy, arms crossed in front of her. She called every inch of her force around her. Then, when Grim was close enough, she exploded.

Grim was launched off the mountain so quickly, he was just a streak of shadow.

And Isla was left smiling.

He was waiting for her at the bottom of the mountain, leaning against it, looking awfully whole for someone who had just been hurled off a peak. “Unleashed suits you, Hearteater,” he said.

She couldn’t agree more.

Grim woke her up early, with his lips against her head. “Wraith is getting restless. I’m going to take him flying. I’ll be back soon.”

She should take Lynx for a run too. But she needed to spend more time going through the book. So far, she had only collected a handful of skyres, without knowing how to use them. He couldn’t know about her research.

He left, and she returned to the library. The pages flipped over and over, revealing just a little bit more each time.

Most were pieces of skyres. A select few were whole. None had descriptions; not yet.

She was slouched in the chair, her cheek resting against her palm, as she flipped through and a sentence caught her eye. She’d hardly finished reading it before it settled, disappearing.

Slowly, she sat up.

It wasn’t a skyre . . . but it was something important. Something she would need, once she discovered the right marking.

It read, Bones hold more power than blood. The most powerful skyres must be formed with them.

If she was going to close the portal—if she was going to extend her life—she would need infinitely powerful bones.

She knew where to get them.

Snow fell weightlessly around her as she stopped at the mouth of the maze, still clutching the book in her hands, in case she needed a different skyre.

Uncertain, she took a breath. She had memorized the turns Grim had taken, as a precaution. Still, Isla wondered if she was making a grave mistake as she stepped inside the labyrinth.

Power hummed somewhere inside the hedges, smothering her own. She could feel it biting against her cheeks, her fingertips.

It was quiet. Too quiet, almost, as if all life had been stolen within its walls. She imagined what it would be like to be trapped forever, to go crazed inside, searching for the way out.

The book seemed to hum in her hands. She opened it as she walked, flipping through the pages, seeing what might be revealed to her.

Nothing.

Just blank parchment. Not even a single marking. She frowned. Closed the book again.

By the time she heard the growl, it was too late.

The creature was on her, its teeth sinking into her calf as she screamed. The smell of her blood filled the air, and she kicked as hard as she could, foot replaceing hard skin. It was enough to get the beast off her and give her a chance to run.

That was when she saw what it was—a snarling four-legged creature with a squished, angry face, and tusks coming out of its front. Something about it was twisted. Wrong.

A creature from the storm. From the otherworld.

But there hadn’t been a storm in weeks . . . unless there had been one far away. Unless the beast had been hiding all this time.

Its skin was plated in patches of scales like armor, and it roared, head to the sky, as if communicating with something. It sniffed wildly in the air, and Isla realized with a start that it didn’t have eyes.

Smell. It went off smell, and hearing, similar to the creature in the mountain.

Her ankle was bleeding badly. She would need to return to the coffin later. She took off toward the maze’s entrance, limping as fast as she could, shaking hand keeping a firm grip on the book, and froze.

Three more beasts awaited her.

They smelled her immediately, the one she had kicked in the face catching up. And all Isla could do was run. Into the maze she went, ankle screaming in pain as she ran as fast as she could, weighed down by her heavy fabrics. She tucked the book into the front of her dress to keep from losing it and soaked her cloak in her own blood. When a turn came up, she threw it in the other direction, over a hedge, and watched all four creatures lunge the opposite way.

She tore back down the path, but she had turned too many times in their pursuit. The directions she had memorized were now useless.

She was lost.

Ripping sounds reached her as the cloak was turned to shreds. Then, roaring. They were hungry. They had gotten a taste of her blood and wanted more.

Isla pressed against one of the hedge walls, panting, trying to keep quiet. They would smell her here. It was little use.

The growling was right behind her now.

If she was lost, she needed to get up, atop the hedges. She felt around her person. She had two daggers. Nearly useless against the scaled beasts . . . but she could use them to climb.

She stuck her blade into the thick hedge and heard the creatures erupt in growls. They had sensed her.

Her other blade reached high above, and she cried out as she hauled herself up, her ankle bleeding down the plants. Just three more stabs of the hedge should do it, she told herself. Then, she would be safe. The hedge was tall; she didn’t think they could climb it.

She reached back to strike again—

And was dragged off the wall by a set of teeth.

Isla’s breath left her as her back hit the ground. All she could do was watch as four sets of teeth hovered, snarling, ready to pounce.

The book against her chest was the only thing shielding her body from being ripped open, and it didn’t stand a chance against those teeth.

The book.

Just as they leapt to finish their meal, Isla pulled the book out of her dress, hoped Aurora was right about it being cursed, and flung it open.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, an otherworldly scream cleaved through the air like a clap of thunder. Isla watched as nothing short of a demon crawled through the pages. It was winged, and sinewy, and didn’t have a face, other than a mouth with more teeth than she had ever seen in any type of beast, rows of them, sharp as stacked blades. It hit the ground in front of her, resting on the talons of its wings and even the four-legged creatures backed away.

They didn’t stand a chance. The demon lunged forward and ripped them to ribbons. Blood spattered as the creatures fought, covering Isla in it, but she wasn’t safe. Not yet. When the demon was done with the beasts, it could turn for her . . . and she was still lost in the maze.

She tucked the book back against her chest and began to climb.

At any moment she could be torn to shreds. She could be pulled back off the wall. She knew that, and she kept climbing and climbing, dragging her bloody ankle behind her, until she reached the top and hauled herself over it.

The castle gleamed in front of her, just beyond the gardens.

She was right. The hedges were compacted, strong. Covered in a layer of ice.

Solid enough for her to run atop them.

She should go back to the palace, before she bled out . . . but she turned toward the coffin, glimmering in the center of the maze.

This could be her only chance to visit it without Grim. As soon as he saw her injury, he would be suspicious. She might never get this opportunity again. “You’re going to regret this,” she said to herself, before taking off toward the glittering metal.

She ran down row after row, until there was a gap. She needed to jump. She did, over and over, using skills honed from prowling the towns, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. On her last leap, her ankle twisted below her, and she hit the side of the opposite hedge with a thud that stole her breath, before sliding to the ground. Her head spun. Her body was sore everywhere. But she was close. She had seen it. Ignoring the pain, she got to her feet, turned the corner, and was nearly blinded by sparkling metal.

Her breathing labored, she inched toward the coffin. Curled her hands around the side. Pushed.

Nothing happened.

She tried again. Heaved against it with all her might. But it didn’t budge. Almost like it was enchanted.

Or cursed.

She remembered what the blacksmith said. Her blood was power.

She didn’t spare a moment before smearing the blood from her ankle across its opening.

Immediately, the blood began to spread, melting across the coffin. This time, she pushed—and it opened.

She looked inside, expecting to see a corpse. Waiting to steal a bone to use for her skyres.

But the coffin was empty.

Impossible. Had the body been moved? Stolen?

A screech like a talon across the sky shattered the silence, and the maze seemed to tremble around her, in anticipation.

The creature. It had finished with the others, and now, it would replace her. She tucked the book to her side, scrambled to the closest hedge, and climbed for her life.

She ran, dragging her ankle behind her, along with a trail of blood. She had lost so much already.

After the next jump, she collapsed against the top of the hedge, her vision blurring. Her head spinning. She dragged herself back up,letting the pain pulsing through her ankle anchor her consciousness, but she stumbled, dropping the book. She didn’t even see where it landed.

Already, she could barely feel her hands and fingers. This was bad.

Then it got worse.

There was rustling behind her, and she turned to replace the demon from the book crawling up to the top of the hedges.

She whipped around and ran faster. Faster. So fast, she barely saw in front of her; all she knew is she needed to move. The castle was right there. So close. But her head was spinning now.

And there was one more jump left to the outer ring. She didn’t think she could make it, not when her entire leg now had gone numb from the loss of blood. It was freezing. She sunk to her hands and knees and felt the ice, slippery beneath her palms. The cold seemed to stick to her, crawling into her lungs, stinging against her wound, slowing her breathing. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Somewhere behind her, the demon from the book screamed again, and she folded over, covering her ears.

There was an answering roar.

She recognized it immediately.

Grim.

With renewed hope, she flung herself through the air, just barely making it across the way. She hung off the side of the hedge and groaned as she pulled herself atop again with her last remaining effort. Just a little farther.

Stars spotted her vision. She saw the mouth of the labyrinth and forced herself forward. There. Just there.

She crawled to the edge, and her fingers were cut to ribbons as she reached within the thorned hedge for purchase. She tried to climb down the wall without her daggers, but she had lost too much blood. Her vision went black, and her hands went wholly numb. She fell halfway down—

Into Grim’s arms.

Snow melted against the window; the glass heated by the roaring fire beside it. It was the first thing she saw when she awoke.

She was still in the winter palace, then. Flashes of the maze came in spurts. The four-legged creatures. Her ankle, torn open by their teeth. The demon from the book. Her running atop the maze.

She looked down at her ankle and found it wrapped around and around, in bandages already soaked with blood—but not as much as there should be. Grim was in the process of changing them.

When he saw her awake, he knelt beside her in an instant.

She strained to get up from the chaise he had dragged next to the fire.

“Creatures—”

“I saw them,” he said. “Or what was left of them.” He looked at her in question. She was good with her daggers, but even she could not shred a creature of that size the way that demon had.

“Something saved me,” she admitted.

That was when Grim held up the book. He must have found it within the maze. Isla’s reflexes made to fling it across the room, to warn Grim not to touch it.

Then, he held up the head of the faceless demon that had crept out of it.

Oh.

“It saved me,” she said, a little sad to see it dead, even though it had hunted her.

He raised a brow at her. “It tried to tear me to pieces.”

Fair.

Isla had seen the demon at work. Sometimes she forgot how powerful Grim was.

Then came questions she wasn’t prepared for. “What were you doing in the maze, Isla? What is this book?” The pages had remained blank for him, then.

She stilled, wondering how much to say. She remembered how his advisors had warned him . . . had called her a traitor. A snake. Even now, though, Grim didn’t look upset . . . no. If anything, he looked confused. Hurt.

She told part of the truth. “I thought it might help me replace the portal.”

He blinked. “Did it?”

She nodded. “It did.”

It had all come together on her way out of the maze.

He looked at her expectantly.

“The portal is the coffin.”

Grim’s eyes narrowed, considering.

“It’s empty. His flair was portaling.” Bones hold more power than blood. “I think . . . I think his bones created it, became the portal.”

Grim bit the inside of his cheek in concentration. “The maze . . . it hid its power.”

She nodded.

Isla expected to feel melting relief—they had found the portal. But it didn’t even look open. She had no idea how to permanently close it, or if that was even possible, when she couldn’t use power around it.

She sighed, leaning back, and caught a glimpse of glimmering ink. The swirl on her arm that she had previously kept hidden. Her sleeves had been torn by the beasts and thorned maze. It was fully visible between the tatters.

The shadows she had kept over them would have been released in the labyrinth. She had passed out before being able to put them back.

Grim had clearly seen it, while he had healed her. Slowly, she looked up at him. He didn’t drop her gaze as he said, “What, Hearteater, is that?”