Page 149 of Skyshade
But Isla had a piece of the otherworld too. Two of them.
Bracing against the pain, she had made her first skyre with the god-bone, right over her heart, where the heart of Lightlark had marked her.
The pain had been like swallowing a river of fire—power searing through her veins, desperate for an outlet. Soon, it would find it.
But not yet.
Her new skyre pulsed against her skin, the ink swirling, alive. The missing page had been right—bone held more power than blood. Shecould feel the added strength in her bloodstream, heating it and adding yet another ability to her arsenal.
This was how she was going to open the portal. Closing it, according to the page, would require power from her, Grim, and Oro, along with enchantment.
First, they needed to send Lark away for good.
Wraith soared across the skies, and it wasn’t long before she heard it—the marching of an army. Grim and Oro had been the bait, waiting for Lark to sense them. Bringing her out of hiding.
From high above the clouds, she and Wraith could barely see Grim and Oro—and the endless wave of bloodless soldiers that now surrounded them.
Isla swallowed, and a voice at her side said, “So. Which one’s death would hurt you more?” The voice was angry. Mocking.
Enya. Her fire-wings spread long behind her, crackling.
Isla ignored the question. As easy as it would be to dislike the Sunling, she admired her loyalty to Oro. She was grateful he had someone like her in his life.
“Be careful,” Isla said from Wraith’s back, as the army below inched closer to the men she loved. Enya only raised a brow and said, “Worry about yourself, Isla. I do not die today.” Then, with a wink, she plummeted, her fire-wings growing, expanding, blazing. Just before reaching the ground, she turned sharply to the side, and her wing dragged along the dirt, setting hundreds of bloodless soldiers aflame, scorching the world in a thick line as she shot forward.
She landed and turned sharply, wings curling, wrapping her in swirling flames. Isla watched from above, transfixed, as she tore through the army like a tornado, cutting them down with her fire.
“Impressive. You can say it’s impressive,” a voice purred right behind her. She jumped, nearly losing her balance, only to find Zed lounging behind her, hands resting behind his head, like there wasn’t a battle beginning beneath them.
“Are they ready?” she asked. For her plan to work, everything had to be in place.
He nodded lazily. “Azul gave us everything we needed. And a few things we don’t.” He tapped his pocket, and she shook her head. He straightened and motioned toward the sea. “Calder gathered a few surprises too. You’ll see them.”
Then he fell right off the side of Wraith’s back, shooting across the clearing in a streak of blue. He landed in the center of a group of bloodless soldiers and cut them down with a curved blade crafted from a sharp wind. It was almost casual, the way he fought—never faltering, never looking like he was exerting too much effort.
Grim and Oro were the opposite. They stood back-to-back and raged. From above, all she saw was ruinous shadow meeting searing flame. Both extinguishing everything in their path.
She never imagined them working together, but Lark had made enemies into allies. She waited a moment, then two, for the signal.
It came in the form of a bell ringing. The same warning as the storm.
Astria had been watching Lark. She had emerged.
It was time.
Isla breathed in, and out. Wraith floated, barely moving his wings, keeping them very still, as she slowly rose to her feet.
Her power had been buried. It had been hidden. It had been forgotten. Now she reached into the deepest depths of herself, farther than she believed possible—
And called it all.
All that is buried eventually rises.
Her powers surged up with the force of a tidal wave, nearly knocking her off Wraith’s back, but she stood firm. Firm, as her power began to rise out of her, simmering, glittering green and red.
It formed a shield around her, a sparkling veil, and she could see all her powers swirling within it. Every person she had already killed. Every ability she had taken so far. It was all there, all within reach.
Her skyres burned, pleading to be used. The new ink, formed from bone and blood, swirled in anticipation, right over her heart.
