Page 122 of Skyshade
“Why did you get married again?” he asked.
She remembered why she had told him about it in the first place. To make him hate her. To make him forget her.
She still hoped he would.
Oro had warned her before about using blood for power, and that was what she was doing now, to an even greater degree. Her skyre was still hidden by the thinnest snip of shadow, but if he learned about it, he would be upset. He wouldn’t understand.
She was dangerous. Reckless. Even without the prophecy, he deserved better. One day, she could hurt him without even meaning to.
“I married him again because I wanted to,” she said, hoping the statement held enough truth. Oro looked unconvinced.
He leaned closer, until his breath was against her forehead. “So that’s it? You’re my enemy now?”
She swallowed at his proximity and nodded.
He tilted his head at her. “That’s what you want?”
Yes. “I do. I—I hate you.”
He only dropped his gaze to her lips, then her collarbones, then her chest, still almost completely visible in the clear water. Then, he leaned down, breath skittering across her bare skin, so he could say, right against the shell of her ear, “Say that to me when you aren’t moaning my name in your sleep, and I might believe you.”
Then, he lifted himself out of the pool and got dressed.
After that, they walked in silence. She tried her best to stay as far away from him as possible, to bury this building attraction, and he seemed content to do the same.
They kept going, walking all through the night until the horizon shaped into a mountain range, and she spotted a structure in the distance.
Relief nearly made her knees buckle.
A palace had been carved into the entire side of a golden cliff. It looked like a castle trapped in stone. Its façade was made up of thousands of sunlike symbols and countless doors. There were statues, stairs, and endless columns.
“What is this place?”
“A tomb,” Oro said, stepping past her. He stopped at the front. She made to walk through the door, but he caught her wrist. “We can’t enter yet.”
“Why?” They didn’t have time. Nightshade could be overrun by warriors by now. Grim could be in trouble. Oro wouldn’t care about that; so she instead she said, “Lark has made it to this island. She’s likely killing your soldiers right now, adding to her army.”
His jaw tensed. “Just trust me, Isla,” he said, and she would be a liar if she said hearing her name from his lips again didn’t make her chest constrict. “We need to wait.”
They did. And as they lingered at the front of the palace, she studied it more closely. The columns were made up of statues, a row of previous rulers. The pediments were filled with sculptural scenes showing a hunt. A wedding. A burial. All delicately crafted from the golden cliff face. Up above, at the very top—almost at the peak of the mountain—something flashed.
A flame.
Oro followed her line of sight. “That’s the forever flame,” he said. “It hasn’t gone out in thousands of years. Kings have risen and fallen, curses have been woven and broken, and through it all, the flame has endured.”
She watched it flicker. It wasn’t huge...but it was mighty. Strong.
The darkness began to shift, and Oro stood straighter. He motioned for her to step inside the palace. Finally. She did and was plunged into darkness. Her energy was spent, but she reached for Oro’s power, lighting the smallest of embers. His fingers curled over hers, snuffing it out.
“Unnecessary,” he said. He turned back toward the door. Waited a second. Two.
Then light poured into the hall in a glittering line, like melted gold. As dawn rose, the slice of sun streamed across the floor, illuminating an intricate design beneath their feet.
It was beautiful. She turned to Oro, only to find him already studying her.
They stared at each other for a moment before following the sunspun path down the long corridor and into a room that began flooding with light.
It was a tomb.
