Page 43 of Nightbane
Her cousin ignored her and started fighting with Leo again. “He’s just ... serious,” Isla explained. There were a thousand other things he was that she wouldn’t tell the little Starling girl. “Haven’t you seen him?”
She shook her head so hard, her short, wavy hair hit the sides of her face. “No. Maren doesn’t let me go on the Mainland and keeps me inside when he visits. What’s the Mainland like?”
Isla frowned. “What? Why—”
Maren turned around and said, “That’s enough, Cinder. Stop bothering our ruler,” before taking her wrist and pulling her ahead.
They led her to a row of abandoned buildings composed of towering silver columns, broken stairs, and missing cobblestones.
Isla watched as Starlings darted into different structures, walking expertly over the smashed steps.
Maren, Leo, and Cinder turned into one of the buildings, and Isla followed, careful of her footing. Silver vines and leaves curled through every gap in the place. The ceiling was high and vaulted. Centuries before, it must have been a royal assembly hall. Now, it housed dozens of makeshift houses. Some were built of wood and stone. Most were a mixture of different fabrics and hides, pulled taut.
Isla stopped in her tracks. “This is where you live?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her tone.
Cinder studied her face a moment, then said, “What’s wrong with it?”
“Go find Stella,” Maren said, motioning an unwilling Cinder away.
“But I don’twant—”
“Go,” Maren said. Cinder pitched her shoulders back and walked away in slow, dramatic despair.
Maren turned to Isla. There was a sharp look in her eyes, as if she might scold her, if she wasn’t her ruler. “Two years ago, a fire burned down where we used to live.” She looked quickly over to where Cinder had wandered off to, still slowly making her way to wherever she needed to go. “This is where we went.”
“This is wheresomeof us went,” Leo clarified. “Others went their own way.” Someone called his name, and he nodded at Isla before jogging over to the other side of the structure.
Isla shook her head. “I don’t understand. Star Isle is massive, and there aren’t many of you left. Why didn’t you simply go to a different set of houses? Or live in the castle?”
“The castle belongs to the nobles,” Maren said. Isla was about to object to that when she added, “And the specters. They’re too troublesome to live among ... dangerous too.” Isla remembered the specter that had entered her body, and had wanted to stay in there forever, and immediately understood. “Most of the residences are on the far side of the isle, and we don’t go there anymore.”
“Why?”
“Creatures took over, centuries ago. Anyone who goes east of the forest never returns.”
The creatures Ella had mentioned.
Anger surged in Isla’s chest. Aurora had visited the island every hundred years for the Centennial. She had known about all this and had done nothing. Of course she hadn’t. She’d clearly never cared about anyone but herself.
Isla shook her head. This isle needed far more help than she had realized.
A thought prodded at her. “Why haven’t you let Cinder leave Star Isle?”
Maren looked at her with what could only be described as contempt. “I told you all during the dinner. During the curses, the other isles treated Starlings as disposable. Our lifetimes are—or have been—just a blink compared to others’. We were often taken. Abused. Killed, even. Especially since many of us haven’t learned to wield ... there’s not much in the way of protecting ourselves.”
“Not anymore,” Isla promised. “I won’t let anyone harm any of you,” she said, and she meant it, though she didn’t know how she was going to keep that promise.
Maren smiled, but it was tight, like she didn’t quite believe her.
When she returned to the castle, Oro was waiting for her. His posture was rigid, as if worry had hardened his body into stone. His eyes lit in relief when she approached. “How did it go?” he asked.
She let him into her room and told him everything. He listened and asked a few questions, but she could feel him studying her. Finally, he took her hand. Smoothed his thumb across it. “I’m worried about you,” he said.
Isla frowned. She motioned toward herself. “Oro, I’m fine—”
“You’re not sleeping well ... it doesn’t seem like you’re eating well either ... You seem haunted,” Oro said. “What is haunting you, Isla?”
Her mouth fell closed. She wanted to tell him. She really did. But part of her thought if she said the words aloud, it would make the memories more real, and they would come at her at full force. She didn’t want to remember. She just wanted them to stop.
