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

Enya spat at her feet when she approached. She looked at Grim and did the same. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

Calder’s normally jovial expression was cold. Wary.

Zed was missing. She remembered what Oro had said. He had imprisoned his friend.

They sat in the war room—the same place where they had planned Grim’s death. Now, he leaned back in one of the chairs, glaring daggers at anyone that looked at him. Anyone but her.

“Lark means to kill both of you,” Isla said, looking from Grim to Oro. “And me, likely. She won’t stop until this world is leveled.”

“Why didn’t she just kill you when she had the chance?” Enya said, as if she would have really liked that outcome.

Shadows spilled across the table, ending in claws.

Isla ignored them. “She needs me to lead her to the heart of Lightlark. That’s why she’s here: to replace it.”

It only bloomed once a century, disguised as a living thing. The last time Isla had seen it, the heart was falling after Celeste into the center of the island.

“So, what do we do?” Calder asked, running a massive hand down his face. “How do we stop someone more powerful than any of us, who created the very island we’re standing on?”

“We lure her out with the promise of the heart. Then, we attack.”

Calder looked confused. “From what you’re telling us, she’s invincible. She can’t be killed, or even injured.”

“Perhaps,” Isla said. “But if she can be stopped for even a few hours, one person on this island knows how.”

“What then?” Enya said, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Even if we can injure her, she’s still unstoppable. We need a plan.”

“I have one,” Isla said.

Enya laughed without humor. “Why should we trust you?”

Isla let shadows engulf one of her arms. The other was wrapped in tendrils of ice, air, crackling energy, and fire.

“That proves nothing,” Enya said. “Only that they both still love you, which is obvious.” She glared at each of them, like loving her was a personal failing.

Isla looked at Grim. Begrudgingly, he made the tiniest of flowers bloom in his hand.

Then, Isla turned to Oro. It hurt to look at him. His eyes were not hollow, not lifeless, but full of pain. Fear. Determination. She remembered a time when they had only been filled with love.

Slowly, he uncurled his fingers. Petals dripped from them, onto the floor, roses tipped in thorns.

They both loved her . . . and she loved them. She wouldn’t do anything to put them in danger, not right now, regardless of what the prophecy predicted.

It wasn’t a guarantee . . . but it was something.

Enya looked unconvinced. “Why should we listen to you?”

“You don’t have to,” Isla said. “You can listen to his plan,” she said, motioning toward Grim. “It involves using the portal on Lightlark, destroying the island, and sending all of Nightshade to the otherworld.”

Grim nodded, looking as if that plan sounded perfectly fine to him. Enya glared at them both.

“My plan involves sending Lark away forever.”

Silence. Then, Oro said, “We’re listening.”

She told them about the storm season. About the portal on Nightshade—and her plan to send Lark through it. She told them about the missing page she and Oro had discovered, detailing exactly how to do so.

Then, very slowly, she dropped the bone onto the table. Oro’s jaw worked, watching it.

Enya turned slowly to face the king. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

He remained silent.

She stood, fire flaring from her fists, scorching the floor. “That is our greatest relic. And you gave it to her? You—”

“He didn’t give it to me,” Isla clarified. “I stole it.”

Enya whirled around to face Oro, speechless. His jaw tensed.

“I need it to create the markings necessary to close the portal,” she said. “Its power is the best chance we have of defeating Lark.”

Enya looked incredulous.

Grim said, “If you sun fools have a better plan, we’re listening.”

Enya’s fire flared—before weakening. She slowly sat down. For a few moments, her anger heated the room. Then she sighed and said, “And what part do we each play?”

“You and Calder, gather up everyone left on Lightlark, all the remaining forces, then wait for me. We need to portal them to the newlands. Lark is here, and they’re just more warriors to add to her army.”

Enya begrudgingly nodded.

She turned to Grim. He waited, expectant. “Did you do what I asked with the sword?” Cronan’s sword, the one they had searched for in the past, that controlled the dreks. She had asked him to return it to the thief’s lair, but now she needed it.

He nodded.

“I need you to get it back.”

“I can do that.”

She turned to Oro. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. “No. Whatever you’re doing, I’m going with you.”

Grim’s shadows sharpened.

Oro only looked between them. “You can’t really expect us to trust you. Or that he won’t use this as a distraction to go through the portal in the vault.” The one in the Place of Mirrors, the one that would save her life forever.

The air seemed to shift as Grim began to stand. She gripped his wrist, and he stilled.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll figure out how to injure Lark . . . together.”

Enya left with Calder, without another word. Grim left too—and was back in just minutes.

“It’s gone,” he said simply.

Isla sat back against her chair. “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

“The sword. The pile of relics. Even the damn dragon, it’s gone.” The pile of stolen enchantments had belonged to an infamous thief. They hadn’t met her in all the time they spent trying to get past the dragon.

“She must have moved everything.” Her nails dug into her palm as she regretted ever telling him to put it back. She had been trying to protect the world . . . now, this could put them in risk of losing it. The dreks were crucial to her plan.

Oro leaned back in his own chair, at the head of the table, and said, “I have an idea.”

Zed was sitting against the back wall of his cell. He looked both bored and unsurprised to see both her and Oro.

He gave her a feline grin. “Brought me a cellmate?”

Oro glared at him. “Not quite. She’s your ticket out.”

Zed’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, we both know I could have been out of this place weeks ago, if I wanted.” To demonstrate his point, he slipped out of his binds, and kicked behind him. The stone went soaring, taking half the wall with it, revealing a hole he could easily fly out of. “You seemed upset, though, so I felt it best to stay put.”

“He’s perfect,” Isla said.

Zed narrowed his eyes at her. “Shameless of you to try to add yet another paramour to your messy situation, but you’re not my type.”

Oro sighed. “Have you ever heard of a thief better than you?”

That wiped the grin off Zed’s face. “Only one. Why?”

“Do you think you can replace her?”

“I can replace anybody.”

“Good,” Isla said. “Make it quick. None of us have much time.”

“I don’t need much time.” He reached his hand out, as if waiting to be portaled.

“Oh, no. I’m not going with you,” she said.

Grim stepped from where he had been leaning against the wall, cloaked in shadows. He looked Zed up and down, unimpressed. “Why is he in prison in the first place?”

Isla’s own grin spread across her face. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about it during your time together.”

Grim glared at Zed, then reached down to brush his lips over hers. Heat spread behind her—anger she recognized as Oro’s—but still, she went on her toes and said, “Come back to me,” to Grim. Lark was out there somewhere. They were all in danger.

His hands were cold along the bottom of her spine. “You too, Hearteater.”

Then they disappeared.

She was left with Oro next to her, radiating his undeniable tinge of fury.

“He’s going to kill him once they replace her,” he said through his teeth.

She shrugged, trying her best to be casual. Trying to pretend Grim didn’t just kiss her in front of Oro. “Zed’s fast. He’ll be fine.”

Maybe.

Oro still hadn’t looked at her. Perhaps he couldn’t. He was likely disgusted by her, by the fact that she was married to the person they had once plotted to kill.

She turned to him. “Ready?”

Using Grim’s portaling power was too much strain. She needed to conserve her energy for when her abilities would be crucial.

Her flying wasn’t perfect. It would slow them both down. Reluctantly, Oro bent and took her into his arms.

She faced away from him, in a failed attempt to get her pulse to settle, as he shot into the clouds, toward Sky Isle.

The hive was empty.

They had portaled into the familiar lattice structure. The winged creatures were gone. Remlar was gone.

Oro frowned. “They were here.”

Remlar was ancient. Could he somehow feel Lark’s presence on the island? “They must have fled.” But where?

“Is there somewhere else on Sky Isle they’ve been known to live?”

He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Great. She had been counting on the ancient being to help them. He had been born in the otherworld, and lived here, on Lightlark, since its inception. If there was a way to incapacitate Lark, he would know.

Oro looked ready to return to his friends, but she stopped him.

“We keep looking for him,” she said.

He looked like he wanted to be as far away from her as possible, after seeing her with Grim, but he flew out of the hive, landing at its base.

She did the same, using his powers. His jaw worked as he watched her.

He could feel the bridge between them. He knew she still loved him. Yet, he had to watch her with him, his enemy . . .

“Oro—” she said.

He turned away.

For several minutes, they walked in silence. She wished she could fill it, tell him all her truths, the way she had before.

If only he could understand why she had left. Why she hadn’t returned.

“How is he?” he finally asked.

Isla blinked. “. . . Grim?”

Heat flared through the forest. “No,” he said sharply. “I don’t give a damn how he is. I meant Lynx.”

Oh.

Her leopard had always liked Oro. “He’s fine,” she said. “I think he misses it here. I don’t think he likes the cold.”

That was an understatement. Lynx slept exclusively next to the hearth in her room and had no shame in waking Grim up when the flames got too low.

“He could come back,” he said. “No matter what . . . there would be a place for him here.” She wasn’t sure he was only talking about Lynx.

They sank back into silence. Any warmth he’d had toward her in the desert, any affection, was gone.

It pained her to see him hurt. To know that she had been the one to hurt him, betray him, again and again. All he had ever done was love her. After the Centennial, he had been patient with her as she recovered from Aurora and Grim’s betrayal. He had helped her learn her powers. He had taken everything slow, which was what she’d needed in that moment.

She had ruined it. And he didn’t even know why.

Her eyes stung. She couldn’t take this. She continued forward, past him, desperate to be out of his orbit, his heat, his scent. She continued through the trees, remembering herself. She breathed deeply, needing to focus, trying to bury her feelings for him down into the pit of her chest.

And then she was knocked to the ground with such a force, her breath left her.

Oro. He was atop her, shielding her. She looked up to see the spot she had just occupied was stabbed through with three lances, dug right into a tree.

She had stepped on a trap. It could mean Remlar and his Skyling sect were close.

Oro must have known it too, but they remained there, staring at each other.

Tears gathered in her eyes.

Oro blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand,” he said, sitting up, allowing her space to leave if she wanted. She didn’t move an inch. “I can feel you still love me. It hasn’t changed . . . not in the slightest. Tell me the truth. Please.” He searched her eyes. “Is it what you did in the village? Do you think I can’t forgive you? Nothing could make me stop loving you. Nothing. Let me in. I can help you, we can—”

“I’m going to kill you.” The words were out of her before she could catch them. “There’s—there’s a chance I kill you.”

Oro stilled above her.

Her mouth tasted of salt. Her voice was a rasp. “The morning of the battle, I went to the oracle. She gave her last prophecy.” She had never wanted to tell him. But if marrying his enemy, if telling him about all the worst things she had ever done wasn’t going to stop him from loving her, from putting himself in danger, maybe the truth would. “I will kill either you or Grim, with a dagger through the heart. It is certain. It is fated.”

A crease formed between his brows.

“That is why I stayed away. Even though I wanted to, trust me, I wanted to come back.”

He considered her. “You stayed because you believed it would keep me safe.”

She nodded. “At first, yes. And then things changed. I love him, Oro. I’m . . . like him.” Her tears dripped down her temples, into her hair. “Now you know the truth.” She wriggled her way out from beneath him. “Now you know why you need to stay away from me. I’m dangerous. I’ll be the death of you, if you let me.”

“Isla,” he said gently, standing.

“No.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t even have to be intentional. You’ve seen me lose control. I don’t trust myself not to hurt you.”

“Isla,” he said again, stepping forward. She didn’t know what he was going to say next, because before he could continue, there was a snap in the forest.

And a voice saying, “Look who it is. The traitor and the king who loves her.”

Remlar stood before them, in the underground hideaway where he and his people had fled. Bright blue glow worms on the ceiling illuminated his skin of the same shade, his black hair glimmering beneath their light. It was part of the same cave system Isla and Oro had escaped to after the first time she had met the ancient, winged creature.

“I trust you’ve had your family reunion,” her old teacher said, sneering.

He was aware of Lark’s escape, then. “I have. You knew her, didn’t you?”

Remlar grinned ruefully. “Unfortunately.” His expression turned solemn. “I’m one of the few from the otherworld that wasn’t killed to feed this land. I was useful to them, back then.”

“I don’t understand. Lark created Lightlark. I thought . . . I thought she wouldn’t be . . .”

“Monstrous?”

She nodded.

He smiled sadly. “Those with godlike power usually turn out to be . . . There were gods in the otherworld. They ruled us all. They were worse than you can even imagine.” He spoke of them with reverence . . . and fear. She didn’t think she had ever seen him afraid.

She thought about the bone still tucked in her pocket.

“We’re going to lure Lark out. I need a way to injure her, for at least a few hours. Do you know a way to do that?”

Mercifully, he nodded.

Hope must have bloomed in her expression, because his eyes narrowed. “She’s far older than you, girl,” he said. “She will be expecting you to do exactly what you’re doing. She is many steps ahead of you already.”

“I know.” She was counting on it.

“There is metal that would leech her powers. You could replace a way to get it on her.”

“No. That’s how she was trapped in the first place. She won’t fall for that again.”

Remlar looked pensive. “Then you’ll need a curse. A strong one. Bound to something powerful.”

She turned to Oro. “I don’t know if Grim can spin curses.” It was a Nightshade ability, but a specialized one. She had never heard him talk about it.

“The ruler cannot curse,” Remlar said. “But I can.”

She faced him. Remlar was partially Nightshade—she knew that—but his powers were mysterious. “You can?”

He nodded and pulled a blade from his pocket. It shone brightly.

“Shademade,” she whispered, and he perked up.

“So, you have been learning,” he said, grinning to reveal his crowded teeth. “I will curse this blade and bind it to myself. It won’t take long.”

They flew to the castle, where Enya and Calder had gathered all the remaining soldiers they could replace—the ones that had agreed to leave. She reached into the depths of Grim’s power, across the bridge between them, and with effort that left her panting, portaled them away.

“Some were missing,” Enya said when she was back. Some had been killed.

“Burn any remaining bodies from the battle,” Oro said. Enya nodded. Calder followed her.

When they were gone, she turned to Oro. “I have to—”

“I’m going with you,” he insisted. Fine. This time, she flew herself. They weren’t going far. When she touched down at the Place of Mirrors, Oro eyed her warily. This was the home of the portal, the one that would doom him and Lightlark, should she use it.

“I just need to see something.”

Walking into the glass castle felt like walking through a dream. She had spent some of her best and worst moments inside.

The vault sat in front of her, its door still open.

She stepped toward it. Oro was right behind her. She touched a palm to the metal. It glimmered in a way she hadn’t truly noticed before.

Shademade. Of course. But Wildling power worked here. This metal had been infused with something that made their abilities slip through. She pressed her hand against it, feeling its power. Trying to sense the threads that it had been made with. Blood. Wildling blood must have been fused with it somehow.

“What are you doing?” Oro demanded. “Why did you need to come here?”

She ignored him.

“Isla,” he said. “What do you want with the vault?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

He caught her wrist. She had kept her markings shadowed before, but in the Place of Mirrors, they were on full display.

Oro stilled. “What are those?”

“Nothing.”

“Isla. You saw what happens when you use shortcuts for power. Your soul—”

She shook her arm away and stepped out of the palace, into the forest. “My soul is already gone, Oro,” she said.

He was relentless. “It isn’t. How can you say that?”

She whipped around to face him. “How can you say it’s not?” she demanded. “You know what I’ve done.”

“It was an accident.”

“And there are more, Oro. More deaths on my hands. And there will be more. Either you, or Grim, and—” she nearly choked on the words.

“And what?”

She threw her arms up. “There’s another prediction. They said I’m going to either save the world . . . or end it.” She closed her eyes. The truth, the truth she had started to hide from herself, spilled out. “I feel this . . . calling within me. To kill. It’s gotten worse and worse. I told you before, I like killing people who I feel deserve it. But . . . even the ones that don’t . . . even the ones that happen by accident . . . It affects me in a way I don’t understand.”

It was a relief to share the terrible truth with someone. Someone who had seen the good in her too.

“You think you might do it,” he said softly. “You think you might actually end this world.”

Isla nodded. “The bracelets stole away my power. They worked well. For a little bit, I almost felt like myself again. But then, I started killing. Something inside me started awakening.” She felt tears like thorns in the corners of her eyes. “I’m afraid, Oro. I’m afraid of what I might do. I don’t trust myself. I—I haven’t had enough time with my powers, and they’ve been more of a curse than a blessing. I’ve been more of a curse than a blessing.”

“That isn’t true,” he said, his voice steady. His amber eyes seared into hers. “You broke the curses. Don’t forget that.”

She often did. She often thought of even that act as something wrong. It had cost her a friend. It had been the worst day of her life to that point.

“I’ll help you if you let me, Isla.”

She wanted that. It was why she had told him, right?

It was easy, falling back into her past self here. Surrounded by this nature they had created together.

She wanted to let him in completely. She wanted to stay.

“Could you ever truly forgive me?” she asked. It was a dangerous question. “For killing all those people? For marrying Grim? For leaving Lightlark?”

Oro didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes,” he said, the word sharp from his mouth. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

She and Grim . . . they understood the worst of each other. She was married to Grim—she loved him.

But she also loved Oro. Half of her belonged to him. Was that enough?

“I know you’ve made your choice,” Oro said. “Don’t change it for me. But you are my only choice. Forever.”

They stared at each other. She reached for him—

A snap of a leaf, somewhere close by. She whirled around to face it. A woman stood at the edge of the forest, staring at her. She squinted. It wasn’t just any woman.

It was Wren.

She stared at Isla . . . then she took off into the forest. Isla frowned.

What? Why was she here? She had given her the starstick. Was something wrong?

Without another thought, Isla took off after the Wildling, Oro following closely behind.

“Wren?” she called into the forest. How did she know how to get to Lightlark, when she had never been here before? How did she know to replace her on Wild Isle?

Just when she almost reached her, Wren ran down the bridge connecting the isle to the mainland. Isla followed, just a few steps behind. “Wren!” she yelled at the Wildling. But she didn’t stop.

Isla crashed through the trees, clearing them with her power, but Wren remained just out of reach.

Enough. She burst forward with a shot of Starling energy and was nearly on her—but then she was gone. Isla stood in the clearing. Turned around.

“Where—”

And then there was a blade, stabbing toward her face. Wren. Isla barely got her own weapon up in time.

“What are you doing?” she screamed at the Wildling. She wasn’t wearing her snakes. What had happened? “Where are the rest of the Wildlings?”

“Isla,” a voice said. It was Oro’s. He was standing a few feet away, looking unsure of what he should do.

She blocked another blow, her blade grazing down Wren’s arm in the process. It was an accident. “I—”

Dread seized through her chest.

There wasn’t any blood.

She looked up at an expressionless face. Glassy eyes.

“No,” she said, or cried, she didn’t know, all she did was block yet another advance. Another. Oro stood there, inching toward her, as if seconds away from interfering.

Tears swept down her jaw. “I—Oro, I can’t,” she said. She was gasping for air.

He seemed to understand, because before Wren could take another step toward her, she was covered in flames.

Isla watched her burn. Wren just stood there, expressionless, as the fire consumed her. As her skin separated from bone. As she burned until she was nothing but ash.

She sank to her knees. Wren was here, on Lightlark. Isla knew what that meant.

That was how Lark had gotten to the island so quickly. “She—she has my starstick.”

Oro’s features turned to stone. With portaling power, she could be anywhere at any moment. They needed to stop her now. They needed that cursed dagger. He pulled her to her feet.

Isla reached for Grim’s portaling power to take them to Remlar.

But it was gone.

No. She reached again. Again. But it was like the bridge between them had been severed. It was like it had never existed at all.

Her heart was beating so fast, clawing up her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

She reached. And reached.

Her emotions broke out of her chest, exploding from her ribs. “I can’t feel it!” she screamed. She nearly sank to the floor. Only Oro kept her steady. “Oro—I can’t feel him!”

He couldn’t be dead. If he was, she would be too, right? Or was the heart of Lightlark keeping her alive for a few stolen moments?

Her scream was a guttural rasp; it didn’t sound natural. Pain nearly ripped apart her chest. Power exploded, and Oro just barely shielded against it.

“Isla,” he said carefully, “Grim is tough to kill. His power is likely blocked, like with your bracelets. You need to stay calm, or we won’t survive this.”

She couldn’t. The idea that he was in trouble—that he had been captured. That he could be dying—

Oro grabbed her wrist, as if feeling something she could not. He threw up his Starling shield around them.

Seconds later, trees snapped in half as easily as matchsticks, as the forest was flattened.

Something roared.

A massive serpent broke through the remaining treetops, rising like a tower before them. The serpent-woman. The ancient creature that had fought beside her and Lightlark in the battle against the Nightshades.

Her scales were muted. She was covered in dirt.

Dead. She was dead and risen.

She launched at them with her tree-sized fangs bared, breaking through the shield.

Oro sent them hurtling back with a blast of power, and they rolled through the forest together, before hitting a tree that had been reduced to splinters. There was another roar as the serpent-woman made to strike again.

They couldn’t portal away. They needed to run. Oro grabbed her hand to help her up, and she did not drop it as they tore through the forest, taking cover beneath any remaining trees, hiding from the massive serpent.

She couldn’t think straight. Her head pounded and her breathing was uneven, but Oro guided them through the forest, running until they reached the cliffside. They stopped just short of the edge, rocks hurtling below.

The snake broke through, hissing. Curling. In a flash, she shot forward toward them, with nothing to stop her from swallowing them whole.

At the last moment, Oro grabbed her hand, and they jumped.

The snake followed, sliding right off the side—and crashing into the jagged rocks below, stabbed through. Pinned in place.

With Oro’s power, they landed safely on the beach.

And were immediately surrounded.

Skylings, everywhere, with arrows drawn. Part of the legion that had fought in battle. There were dozens of them. Expressionless. Dead.

Arrows shot through the sky, right at Oro. Right at her.

She reached for Grim’s power, hoping to replace a thread, but there was nothing. Nothing. Fury gathered in her bones. Pain lanced through her.

I can’t feel him.

I can’t feel him.

I CAN’T—

Her vision went black as power exploded out of her. She could taste it, feel it slide against her skin like a blade, ripping the air itself into tatters, shattering everything in its path.

Her skyre burned. Her heart burned.

Mist rained down. She had boiled the sea behind her. She had turned the cliffs into a thousand daggers. All the Skylings were in pieces along the beach. Her breaths were labored from the effort. Her knees nearly buckled.

She turned slowly to Oro, only to see him clutching his chest. When he dropped his hands, she saw all the blood.

And the blade buried beneath it.