Page 145 of Skyshade
YOU
Tomorrow, she would face Lark. She would face her fate.
Her island was quiet. She could hear the waves wash ashore, could feel the forest breathe in and out.
She was on Lynx’s back. She thought he might like to see it too. He had gone still beneath her, the moment they portaled here. His ears had sharpened.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
In response, he took off.
Isla was nearly thrown off his back. She had to press herself against his spine, fingers full of his fur, to hang on. “What are you doing?” she asked, as he crashed through the forest that she had come to know.
He didn’t slow or waver. He traveled down paths she had never walked before, up hills, into valleys, with confidence.
As if he had been here before.
Isla slid farther up, to press her hand between his eyes. That was when she saw them. Flashes of memories Lynx gave her, melting into the present.
Her parents, here, on this island. Eating fruit from the trees. Riding Lynx. Building bonfires and—
The forest parted. Lynx came to a stop, right in front of a house that had been overtaken by the woods.
“No,” she said, slipping off Lynx’s back. She had come here dozens of times in the last few weeks and had never happened upon it.
He pressed his nose against her back, and she watched her parents build this place. Every bit of wood, every decoration, every rock. They portaled in some of their favorite things and made it a home. For the two of them. No...not just for the two of them.
In one of the memories, she watched her mom laugh, then turn toward Lynx. Her stomach was rounded, full. Her hands stroked down it.
Her. They had made it for her too.
Isla walked into the house.
In the last two decades, it had been overtaken. Vines crept inside, creatures scuttled in the corners. Cobwebs stuck against the ceiling. But parts of her parent’s history had remained.
A lopsided table, with chairs that had clearly been made by hand.
Paintings of Lynx and her father...she recognized him from her bonded’s memories. Her mother had been a painter.
On the center of the table, there was a piece of paper covered in a layer of dirt and yellowed by the air and time.
She froze as she read the familiar handwriting atop it.
Isla. Her father’s writing. The same as his maps.
With trembling fingers, she unfolded the piece of paper.
My dearest Isla,
You will be born in just a few days, according to your mother. She has fallen asleep in the chair next to me, just minutes after she said she wasn’t tired. I thought this would be as good a time as any to tell you just a little of our story...and yours.
Some of this, I’m told, you will know by now. Some might come as a surprise. Let me tell you all of it.
I was working with a man that hated the world, and himself. He sought to find a sword so he could overtake the landhis predecessors had lost. I helped him. I visited a blacksmith and gave my blood to make him an amulet that would allow him to walk in the night, like I could. In exchange, he had the blacksmith make me a portaling device so that I could better help in his mission to find the sword.
I found it, but I was injured in my efforts. I portaled to the Wildling newland, by accident. Your mother found and saved me. She told me that if I gave my ruler the sword, the world would suffer and countless innocents would die in a neverending war. So, after much thought, I decided to make it seem as though I had been lost, the sword unfound, the portaling device destroyed with me. I left my old life behind, and it killed me. But your mother was a light in the darkness.
Her curse meant that the more time we spent together, the more my life was in danger. I decided to do something desperate. I used the portaling device to visit the blacksmith again, risking my entire plan. I begged him to make me another charm, for your mother, out of my blood. In exchange, he wanted death, but, because of his curse, I knew if I killed him, Grim would know I was alive. Instead, I gave him my armor, which had been passed down for generations. It had original power in it, and he accepted. He made me the necklace.
