Page 187 of Grim and Oro
I know he’s saying,Tell me you haven’t thought about one of your own realms actually dying. Thousands of your people—giving up their lives.
“I cannot.”
I’ve considered every alternate possibility over the century between Centennials. Even more so when the blue began appearing. Curses aren’t meant to be broken easily.
“It’s an option,” he says.
As loath as I am to admit it, if I can’t kill Grim, it could become our only option. “You would so readily die? What about your realm?”
Azul’s smile is sad. “I would readily be reunited with my love, yes,” he says. “And as for my realm ... we voted in favor of participation. If it comes to it, we must sacrifice our realm. We would rather one realm die than doom all six.”
Selfless. That’s how he always has been, how Skylings have been for millennia. The choice of which realm will die has haunted each Centennial since the first. Which could the island live without? Since Grim has never been invited until now, it was always down to five options.
The oracle promised that the winner of the Centennial, the one who breaks the curses once and for all, will win unmatched power. I’ve suspected, over the years, that different rulers are more focused on the ability, than the chance to end all our suffering.
Like Grim. He didn’t want more power before, but perhaps he needs it now.
But not Azul. He doesn’t want the prize.
“It won’t come to that,” I say, but I don’t truly believe it.
Azul’s smile is sad. “It will, Oro,” he says. “One of six will die. It’s fated.” Azul’s hand is firm on my shoulder. “My realm is willing to make the sacrifice, to fulfill the final piece of the prophecy. Now you know,” he says, before he leaves.
I enter our quiet floor to find Zed asleep in an armchair, a wool blanket tucked around his shoulders. He doesn’t stir.
I clear my throat loudly. “So ready to die?”
Zed jumps, then rights himself, rubbing his eyes. “Dammit Oro, a simple ‘hello’ would suffice,” he grumbles. By the way he looks at me, he knows exactly what I mean. “And yes. Five hundred something years is a little much, don’t you think?” His tone is light, but his eyes are serious.
So, he did vote on this, along with the other Skylings.
Enya is up in moments. “What are you two talking about?”
When I tell her, Enya looks furious. “Sacrificing themselves! As if that would actually work to fulfill the prophecy!”
“And we’re the experts?” Zed says lazily. “The people who have yet to break the curses in five centuries?”
He’s right. We know nothing. All I can focus on is finding the heart and hoping I’m right about my theory.
Hours later, I search the woods again with the Wildling. She’s staring as if she wants to say something. I ignore her.
With every ounce of my self-control, I force myself to ignore everything about her.
“You haven’t been sleeping at all, have you?”
I feel a flash of annoyance. I wish she wouldn’t study me so closely. I nearly laugh at my own hypocrisy; I’m a damnedspecialistwhen it comes to studying her movements. Which is how I know she was listening in on me and Azul’s conversation.
It doesn’t take long for her to ask about it. Of course, it doesn’t.
She thinks I’m working with him behind her back. She still doesn’t trust me. Not really.
I can’t say I blame her. I don’t trust her either.
Then she asks me something unexpected. “What did you think of them? Wildlings.”When they lived here, are the words she doesn’t say.
I tell her the truth. “They were my favorite realm, besides Sunling.”
She doesn’t believe me.
