Page 71 of Skyshade
Isla had consumed dozens of gifts during her conversations with Sairsha.
Only one had been poisoned.
Isla awoke coated in sweat. Her hair clung to the side of her face, and there was a rushing sound, a roaring. Still, even over it, she could hear her heart. It was pounding desperately, as if in warning, saying get up. Get up. Get up!
Her eyes flew open, and that was when she saw the roaring sound was a river. There was a tiny island in the middle of it, a massive stone that the water churned around. She had awoken in its center.
Around her stood a group of people she recognized from the bar.
They had changed. Instead of their worn clothes, they now wore flowing robes, with hoods that cast shadows across their faces. Each was belted with a scabbard and sword.
“What—what are you doing?”
The bald man she knew as Ragan stared at her, eyes gleaming with something like excitement. Something like hope.
Two men stood next to him; she’d exchanged polite nods with them once or twice before.
Then, standing the farthest away, was Sairsha. She had the nerve to smile at her.
Isla wasn’t bound. They hadn’t even taken her weapons. Fools. “So. You know who I am.”
Sairsha’s smile widened. “Yes,” she said, far too enthusiastically. “We know exactly who you are.” What were they going to do, sell her for ransom? Imprison her?
Had Sairsha planned this trap the entire time?
Isla slowly rose and realized with a shot of horror that while they hadn’t taken her weapons, they had taken her starstick. “What do youwant?” She motioned at her daggers. “If you wanted to kill me, you really should have taken these.” They wouldn’t know their lives were bound to hers. She wondered how much she should say.
Sairsha laughed. It was a pleasant sound, completely contrary to the circumstances. “Kill you? Quite the opposite.” She stepped forward. All the others did too, pulsing like a living body. With them surrounding her, there was no backing away, only backing toward one of them. Sairsha’s smile brightened, her eyes wide and reverent. “Isla Crown, we have waited hundreds of years for you.”
She couldn’t have heard her correctly. This...this had to be a dream. Her head was still pulsing with pain, from the poison. “What are you—”
“This is your destiny. It is written.”
“No.” Her voice barely made a sound.
They were prophet-followers.
“What’s going on?” Isla’s eyes were wild. She turned in all directions. She was surrounded.
Metal sliced through the night as they each pulled swords from their scabbards in one fluid motion. They dug the blades into the rock and did something Isla never expected. They went to a knee before her.
“Please,” Sairsha said, her voice thick with emotion. “Accept our gifts.”
They rose at once.
Gifts? Did they think she was raising an army? Isla didn’t understand.
“You...you’re confused,” Isla said, turning quickly, afraid to give any of them her back.
“No,” Ragan said, his voice booming. “The prophet never made mistakes. Everything that was written has come to pass.”
Sairsha’s eyes gleamed with fervor. She was buzzing with energy, and so were the others. As if something big was about to happen. Islafelt the same dread, the same prickling on the back of her neck, that had come just before the breaking of the storm. “I wish you could read his teachings. His book is full of wonders. And you...he spoke so much about you.”
“What did he say?” she demanded. Eta had hinted at her destiny.
Sairsha smiled. “He said that at the end of the world, a girl will be born from life and death. The girl will either destroy the world...or save it. She would be either a curse...or remedy.” Sairsha’s grin grew even wider. She was shaking with excitement as she said, “Don’t you see? You are the girl. The one that was promised.”
Isla shook her head. Tried to back away. These were fanatics.
