Page 14 of Skyshade
Especially, when, just days later, the storm season started early.
STORM
Wind rattled the windows. Rain hit the glass with the force of throwing stars. Some of it had been frozen solid.
She stood, watching. Listening. Even through the thick stone exterior, she could hear it now, howling. The sky had gone a strange shade. Whorls of green and purple peaked between clouds, illuminated by flashes of light. The stone rumbled with thunder.
The old woman’s words might usually have been enough warning to keep her inside...but the storm was the perfect cover for her own plans.
Before she could think better of it, she was in her training clothing and portaling to Wraith’s specially made stable. His head had been down in boredom, but he rose as she stepped toward him. He flashed his great teeth at her.
Guards typically patrolled outside. Tonight, they protected the castle’s exterior, the sides that weren’t facing the cliff, against any creatures. She had watched them from the windows, forming a perimeter, decked in thick armor. Grim had told her to stay inside—the palace was built well. It was secure.
She needed to hurry. Wraith’s dark scales shimmered as he stepped out beneath the moonlight. Rain slipped down them.
The weather might be good for staying hidden, but it would make it far harder to stay on.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk...
A memory of Oro flashed in her mind. Sitting among the wildflowers. Her golden rose necklace still around her neck.
According to the prophecy, she might put a blade straight through his heart.
She thought of the village. The ash. The ruin.
As it stood, her death would be the end of everyone on this island. Including Grim.
If anyone knew how to change her fate or extend her life, it was the oracles.
She took a step forward. Wraith did too, as if to meet her. “Would you let me ride you? Alone? In the storm?”
In response, Wraith bent down, offering his neck for her to climb. She only made it three scales up, before slipping, barely catching herself. Her heart was in her throat. She didn’t dare breathe until she hauled herself onto his back. Her grip was tentative, at best. She swallowed. She didn’t even have to say a word. The moment her seat was secure, Wraith stepped one foot forward. Another. And then shot up into the clouds.
The sky raged like a battlefield. Thunder and lightning dueled, one striking and the other responding. Night seemed to shatter all around her, and the rain was thicker than it should be, striking like throwing stars. Isla ducked low, holding on to Wraith for dear life, fear settling in her stomach.
It wasn’t just the height. Something about this storm was wrong. She shouldn’t be up here. Not alone. Not when her life was now tied to all of Nightshade’s.
“Watch out!” she shouted, as a full-sized tree was launched toward them. Wraith moved at the last minute, careening left, and she fought to stay on, her teeth sliding painfully together as she smothered a scream. An entire forest had been ripped away by the storm, and it circled them, flying past, riding endless winds.
Wraith moved to dodge each tree, and her stomach dropped as he turned sharply upward, to fly farther into the clouds.
Up here, the sky changed shade. It was what she had seen shards of, from the castle window. The purple-tinged clouds, the greenish tint. She tasted power on her tongue, smelled it, like copper, like blood. Power from what? They climbed higher and higher, until they were drenched in it. The air felt heavier, alight, full.
Lightning struck, not far. It gleamed like a branch on fire.
Wraith’s wings flapped faster, shooting like an arrow through the sky, dodging projectiles. She held on tightly as he swerved. It was a wonder she hadn’t slipped off. Only fear had kept her steady. Her head was bent low. Rocks of ice pounded against her arms, sure to leave bruises. Still, she held on.
The purple deepened the farther they went. The green seemed to glitter.
Out of nowhere, her chest began to ache.
Her heart. It began to burn, as if the seams of her scar were breaking. She risked a look down, half expecting to see her shirt soaked in blood, but there was nothing but rain.
Her hands wrapped tightly against Wraith’s ridges, she folded over as the pain became stabbing, like a blade was carving her heart out little by little, trying to wrench it through her ribs. She screamed.
Wraith turned to face her. She could barely see the land below; it was a blur beneath them. Her grip tightened.
Then, a flash of light. A monstrous strike of lightning flared through the sky.
