Page 124 of Skyshade
His head leaned against the wall. His breathing evened.
She watched him, remembering what it was like to curl up next to him. He looked almost at peace now, across from her, one hand reaching in her direction, as if he was drawn to her even in his dreams.
Slowly inching forward, she ran her hand gently down his arm the way she used to, when they slept side by side. He groaned in his sleep, leaning toward her. He didn’t even feel her grab the bone.
He was so content—so happy, so deep in sleep—that he didn’t even hear her leave.
The storm bellowed around her. She had tied her shirt around her nose and mouth, remembering what Oro had said about inhaling the sand. She couldn’t afford to lose herself to her emotions, not now.
Oro was right. Lark was all of their problem. But he might not agree with her solution. That was why she needed to leave him, even though it killed her inside.
The bone glimmered through the fabric of her pocket. She had read the missing page. It highlighted every instruction to open aportal—and close it. It required multiple skyres, as well as powerful objects to draw from, and this bone would be central to her plan.
All she needed now was to get back to Nightshade.
When she couldn’t see the palace any longer, she slipped her ring off her finger. A miniature storm swirled inside the orb, in sparkling gold.
She had to get back to Grim. She had to make sure Oro couldn’t catch her before she got beyond the gates and their hold on her portaling.
She remembered what Azul had said about trapping storms. Shaping them.
With all the strength she could muster, she broke the stone between her fingers—
And the storm came tumbling out of it. Her storm. She kept her grip on it, as if it was still in an orb in her palm. Her teeth slid together as it fought against her hold.
Slowly, she gained control of its winds with Skyling power and hollowed it out into a vortex, piercing the other storm to form a tunnel for her to safely travel through.
Then she ran through it as fast as she could, knowing that soon, Oro would wake up and realize she was gone. Soon he would notice the bone was missing. He would suspect she had her own hidden plans.
And then he would chase her.
She pushed down the guilt, the lingering feelings, anything that would slow her down, because she couldn’t afford to do anything but move.
Isla hoped he hated her. She hoped he forgot her. It would make things so much easier for all of them.
The miles were endless. Her limbs felt heavier and heavier. The roaring of the golden wind tunnel sounded like an ocean, one she would drown in if her control on the storm faltered for even a moment.
It wasn’t long before the heat slowed her down again. Her eyes began closing. This time, there was no one to catch her when her step slipped. She barely maintained the tunnel while she shot back up, breathing hard.
You have to keep going, she told herself. Trying...that’s the hardest part.
Isla remembered the bloodless soldiers, how they had cut down innocents and Grim’s warriors with the same efficiency. Lark was nearly unstoppable. She would burn this world to its embers, stripping away everything that made it good. It wasn’t perfect, but it deserved a chance to be better.
They had a chance. With this bone, and the skyres, and the instructions on the page folded in her pocket, they could send Lark away forever. But not if Isla died in this desert.
The heat and sand that had made it past the fabric messed with her mind. She saw the past like she was walking through memories.
She thought about her best ones. Running through the forest after training, smiling up at the treetops, singing with the birds. Finding her starstick below the floorboards. Portaling into her former friend’s Starling castle for the first time. Seeing the world from far above, in the hot-air balloon with Grim. Walking through the fields of nightbane, their dark purple color like night being reflected up to the sky.
Azul, showing her the singing mountains here on Lightlark. Rebuilding Wild Isle with Oro, watching nature revive a dead place.
There were her worst memories too. So much loss, betrayal, and danger. But there was beauty here, in this world—more good than bad. And she was willing to fight for it.
With a groan scraped from the depths of herself, she gripped the storm harder—and felt it sweep below her feet, lifting her into its center, sand orbiting her body. Higher. Her arm trembled with effort, with control, her skyre setting her skin aflame, and the sandstormbecame a wave she rode across the desert. It rippled below, tearing across miles and miles. She knelt, her fingers running through it, feeling its power surging.
Oro won’t catch up, she told herself.
She might reach the gates before he even knew she was gone.
