Page 104 of Lightlark
“What will you offer me,King?”
Her blade drew closer to his heart. “I’ll offer you the chance to keep your hive, and people, intact.”
The man’s expression didn’t falter. “I want the Wildling.”
Before Isla could make a move, Oro’s hand was at the man’s neck. And it was coated in flames.
They danced in the man’s eyes as he calmly said, “I want the Wildlingto visit me.Once this is all over.” He glanced at her. “She will come willingly, I assure you.”
Isla stepped forward before Oro could make another move. “Done,” she said. His skin was too pale. He needed to be healed immediately. She sighed, feigning boredom. “Now tell us where to find the heart. I’d like to get at least awinkof sleep tonight.”
The winged man’s smile widened. “Very well. The heart blooms somewhere new every time. I have seen it. I know not where it is now ... but it seems to always choose a place where darkness meets light.”
Isla had no idea what that meant. But Oro plucked her dagger from the air and held it firmly as he turned his back on the man and the rest of the winged people. He grunted as he walked past her, a sign for her to follow.
They walked through the maze of the hive until they reached its outside layer. He handed her back her weapon. Isla began to climb down, but Oro stumbled through one of the openings and grabbed her before falling. He soared for a while, breathing a little too fast. His blood stained her cheek, her hair.
“A plan,” he said, voice hoarse. “We have a plan.”
“Oro,” she said as they half flew, half fell, the trees just inches below. She tried to keep the panic out of her voice.“Oro.”
He glanced at her—and his eyes were bloodshot. Had he been sleeping at all? They closed for a moment.
And they began to fall.
They hit the trees, and Isla screamed. His hands tightened around her, and the air flurried, shattered as something like a shield appeared around them. Branches snapped, wind roared in her ears as they tumbled, dropped—
She hit the ground with a thud. Even with the shield breaking their fall, the breath was knocked from her lungs. She gasped, gripping the dirt, leaves crunching between her fingers. Stars dotted her vision, mixing with the real stars, and darkness threatened to swallow the rest.
Isla forced herself up, her bones screaming in defiance. Oro was a few feet away, sprawled across the ground. Blood pooled at the side of his neck. The cut didn’t look deep, but he must have lost too much for him to have been weakened so thoroughly.
Water—he needed water. Then he could heal himself with his Moon-ling abilities. She forced herself to go still. To listen.
Her breath was too loud, so she held it. Her lungs pulsed in pain, her head spun, but finally, she heard it. The trickling of a stream.
Not nearby, no. She grabbed Oro’s hand. “Get up.”
He didn’t stir. But blood was still flowing. That was a good thing.
“Get up.”
Nothing.
She slapped him across the face as hard as she could.
His eyes opened at that. And began to close. “I can’t carry you,” she said. “You need to help me.”
Slowly, with her help, he rose.
“Can you call the water to you?” she asked. But it was like he couldn’t hear her. So, she half dragged him toward the sound, his weight on her like a boulder.
He was too heavy. She wanted to stop. Wanted to crumple to the ground.
But if Oro died ...
All Lightlark would.
She needed the heart now, just as much as he did.
