Page 16 of Skyshade
She searched every inch of the hull. She considered that they might be on another ship, but no...Cleo wouldn’t let anyone as important as the oracles out of her vicinity.
They were above, then. If they were freed from their ice, they might be locked in a room. She touched her starstick. Winced, wondering if she was about to be surrounded by Moonlings.
The room she had appeared into was, mercifully, empty. Waves pelted the windows. The wooden ship groaned.
The space was large. Luxurious, even. She looked around, searching for any sign that the oracles might be staying here.
The more she looked, the more she realized every part of the cabin had been meticulously crafted. Moonstone floor. Expertly carved paneling.
It was a room fit for a ruler.
A floorboard groaned behind her.
Before she could take a single step, the sea crashed through the window, knocked her off her feet, and slammed her against the wall.
Isla’s body shook as she tore against the icy restraints. She was trapped, splayed, just like she had been during the Centennial.
Cleo tilted her head at her, watching with pursed lips. “You must enjoy getting captured. You’re so very good at it.”
Isla spat at Cleo’s feet, and the ice hardened further, nearly choking her.
Then, all at once, the ice turned to water, and she fell on the floor, gasping for air. She gripped her dagger immediately. Held it in front of her as she got to her feet, ready to strike.
Cleo looked bored. “What do you want, little Wildling?”
There was no use in hiding it. Cleo could have killed her, and she hadn’t. There must be a reason.
Her teeth were chattering. “The oracles. Where are they?”
Cleo’s answer was immediate. Emotionless. “Dead.”
Something within Isla wilted. “You’re lying.”
“You aren’t worth lying to,” Cleo said flatly.
Isla had her dagger to Cleo’s heart in a flash.
The Moonling barely spared it a glance.
“Why?” Isla demanded. Her hand was shaking.
Cleo only blinked. “Isn’t it obvious? I took their prophecies and killed them so that I would be the only one to know the future.”
Fury battled within Isla. She wished for her powers, so she could tear the ship to pieces, so she could shatter the sky and sea like a storm. It was this dangerous anger, this serpent within her always ready to strike, that was why she needed to keep the bracelets on. She knew that, yet still yearned for that power so she could paint the sky the shade of her endless rage.
“What did they say?” Isla roared, knowing she was foolish for even asking. But she had to try.
Cleo’s smile was serpentine. “So much about you. None of which I will share, of course.” In a flash, the Moonling hit her square in the chest, sending her back with a whip of water. Her dagger hit the ground. A half dozen ice blades were positioned at Isla’s throat, like a death necklace. Cleo stood above her, still amused. “Fear not. Your end will come in time, but not from my hands.”
In time.
Isla would have given anything to know when. To know how. To know how to stop it. To know any sort of explanation, or guidance, or hope that the oracle was wrong, and her fate could indeed be changed.
She felt so alone. The only two people she wanted to confide in were the ones she was in danger of killing.
“I’ll give you anything,” Isla said, meaning it. The anger had been put out and replaced by pure desperation. She was trembling, back against the corner of the room. She had never felt more powerless, and it had nothing to do with her lack of abilities. What was the point in having any power at all, when she couldn’t even control her own destiny?
She had never imagined willingly being at the Moonling’s mercy, but for this, she would beg. “Please. You must want something. Tell me what the oracles said, and I’ll help you get it.”
