Page 148 of Lightlark
Oro watched the floating yolk and its discarded shell with such awe, she wondered if he might sink to his knees. He met her gaze and smiled so brightly, it was as if the sun itself was shining right through his skin.
He swept her into his arms and spun her around. She laughed, so close to crying in relief her eyes prickled, her lungs burned. She was immediately flooded with his heat, down through her bones. A moment later, she was back on her feet.
Oro shook his head in disbelief. He reached toward his crown on her head, and she wondered if he was about to take it. Instead, he straightened it, smiling. “Go ahead, Wildling. Get our heart,” he said.
She grinned back at him.
Finally.
She was not weak. She had solved the riddle of the prophecy, found the heart,her way.She had been right. She was going to save those she loved. She was going to do what even her guardians had thought her incapable of.
She was going to win the Centennial.
Isla set off toward the tree. The bird screeched happily. The yolk was bright as the sun, small enough to fit in the center of her hand. It glimmered like pure gold. The source of all Lightlark power. Its heart.
She reached for it. Gripped it. Felt the force of it shoot through herskin, along her bones, the power like a bolt of cold water, a tidal wave through the crown of her head, flames licking her every inch—
And felt it all rip away as an arrow plunged through her chest.
She choked, falling to her knees. Her chin dipped, and her eyes settled on the long tip of an arrow, sticking right through her heart.
A perfect hit.
A roar erupted somewhere behind her. She thought it might be Oro, right before fire swallowed the forest, burning people ... there werepeople.
Vinderland. Here to get revenge. Arrows still drawn. They pulled back their strings to strike her again and died. Oro had killed them all in an instant.
A second felt like a lifetime. Her head lolled over her shoulder, the king’s oversize crown falling from her head. Oro was there, reaching for her, just yards away ... but he could not take a step out of the cave to heal her. Not during the day. His face was strange, etched and lined in a million ways. With a desperate jolt, he reached farther, only to roar again in pain, the sun splitting his skin in two. Blood pooled below her in a crimson puddle. Its warmth was almost a comfort in the cold.
She had survived too long already—stolen seconds the heart’s power had no doubt given her.
Isla clutched the heart of Lightlark with one hand, her own sputtering its last beats. With the other, she reached up and pulled on her necklace.
Grim appeared from thin air before her fingers could uncurl from the diamond. His eyes widened at the sight of her covered in blood. She was in his arms in an instant.
“Please,” Oro said from the cave, and Isla hardly recognized his voice. Why was he begging? Did he want her to leave the heart? Her hand went limp, and the yolk fell to the ground.
The last thing she saw was Oro’s face, fragmented into a handful of emotions, each more surprising than the last.
And then she was gone.
***
The hearthadbeen keeping her alive. She knew that for certain when she dropped it, and the world had gone dark.
And then she was falling through an endless puddle of stars.
The realms were just spokes on a wheel, turning, turning, turning. She was somewhere in between them, drowning, gasping, fading.
Mom.Would she finally get to meet her?Dad.And the man who had been worth death, worth bearing a cursed child?
Death was not quiet, and it was not quick.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
PROPHECY
“Hearteater.”
