Page 111 of Skyshade
And Isla? Beyond breaking the curses, she hadn’t given her people much reason to be loyal to her. She just hoped they wouldn’t stand against her.
There was one thing she could offer: an escape. Though something in her grieved, she carefully handed her starstick over to Wren. “Use this to portal our people away, should you need to. Go back to the Wildling newland. Bring Lynx, if he’s not with me.”
Wren nodded. Isla taught her to use it.
Grim portaled them back to the castle steps. There, Astria was waiting. She was covered in dirt. Her arm had been badly cut and was now wrapped.
“Burn the dead,” Grim ordered. “Dig up any other grave sites and burn the bones.”
Astria looked wary. Isla understood. The outcry when the graves had been desecrated had been sharp. Warrior cemeteries were places of honor.
Still, she didn’t question Grim.
The general took off to follow his orders.
Isla watched him carefully. As the rush of the battle slowly faded away, realization settled in her bones.
When she had told him who had taken her...he hadn’t looked as surprised as she should have. Lark Crown was one of the three founders of Lightlark, and she was alive, here, on Nightshade.
It was at that moment that she remembered something Oro had said, back at the Centennial. He had said that Grim was the only thing standing between them and a greater darkness.
“You knew,” she said. Her chest felt hollow. “You knew Lark was alive. You knew she was buried below.”
He stood, expressionless. He didn’t deny it.
She took a step. “You both knew. You and Oro.”
They hated each other. Why would Grim share information like that with his enemy, and not her?
Grim nodded, confirming her fears.
“You...you both kept it from me. Why?” Something deep within her cracked. It was another betrayal. Grim looked almost afraid, as if seeing the shift inside her. It had taken so long for any trust to be rebuilt between them.
She wanted to be angry, she wanted to feel betrayed, but she also knew it would make her a hypocrite. She had kept so much from him, even now, even after letting him in.
“I told Oro at the Centennial, before the trials started, so he wouldn’t try to kill you. He knew your death wouldn’t fulfill the Centennial prophecy; it wouldn’t end your familial line. It was also a way to prevent him from trying to kill me. My line’s power trapped her. Only my power can release her. Upon my death, she would have been freed.”
Grim tried to take her hands, but she wrested them away.
He frowned. “Many of our histories have been buried, but Oro knew that Lark had been just as ruthless as Cronan. She killed thousands to form the land; she made it from their bones. Freeing her would mean the end of the world, and we both knew it.” He studied her. “That is why you couldn’t know. She’s your family. She’s part of your realm. We thought you might one day be compelled to visit her. Free her. She can only be released with my line’s power, and—”
She had access to it.
Lark had been freed anyway, somehow. If not by either of them, then by who?
Everything he said made sense. But she still burned with betrayal. Not just from Grim...but Oro.
He knew she’d had family. He knew her ancestor had been imprisoned deep below Nightshade, forced to power the land. Lark might be a monster, but her imprisonment was torturous. Twisted.
Power in bloodlines were shared. It meant Isla’s ability, as vast as it was now, was limited by Lark’s existence.
She wasn’t the only one.
“Cronan is alive,” she said. Lark had told her as much.
Grim stilled. “That’s impossible.”
“All of this is impossible.”
