Oro shook his head but did not offer an explanation.
Power.Isla had wanted it more and more. The power promised was prophesied to be endless. The things she could do—
No.
Isla hadn’t ever handled even a drop of power. What would she do with a sea of it?
Especially since the price was revealing her secret.
Isla shook her head.
The king looked surprised. Then he frowned. “Either you are the only other ruler not interested in the Centennial’s prize,” he said, “or your secret is worse than I suspected.”
“That’s not a question” was her only response.
For the rest of the time, they barely spoke, their game over.
Isla watched the sunlight streaming from the cave entrance until it withered and disappeared.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ORACLE
Each day after the ball held ruin. An ancient building fell into the sea. Another elder died. Another crack formed overnight, dividing the Mainland. The cursed storm grew along the coast. Still trapped in place, it began to rage. Thick bolts of lightning would strike at the same time every night, loud enough that Isla heard them wherever she was. Counting down the days.
The heart was not in either location on Sky Isle. Or Sun Isle, which Oro searched himself.
It was the last place Oro had said he wanted to look. But on the fifty-ninth day of the Centennial, the time came to search where darkness met light on Moon Isle.
Isla wondered about the guards. Oro had hinted at not wanting Cleo to know they were looking for something on her isle.
But the king had a solution. One that Isla didn’t appreciate.
“I’ll go slow,” he said, surprising her.
Isla gave him a look.
“Slower,” he amended.
She didn’t want to ever experience flying again, but she also couldn’t think of another way past the guards that didn’t require telling him about her starstick. “If you drop me—”
“You will gut me, I am aware.”
Then she was in the air. She buried her face in his chest, scrunching her eyes against the wind. His hand was splayed across her back, his grip a bit too loose for her comfort, so she clung to his neck tightly.
“You know,” he said into her ear, “I used to wonder how Wildlings carved hearts out with only their nails.” One of the hands that was supposed to be holding her securely reached back and smoothed down her own fingers, one by one, until they didn’t dig into his skin any longer. “Now, I know they’re sharp as daggers.”
Isla poked her head up to give him a withering look. “I wouldn’t have to cling so much if you held me properly.”
“Properly?”
She nodded. “More tightly. More securely.”
Oro shifted his hands. Suddenly, instead of being loosely held in front of him, she was cradled against his chest. Her entire body warmed from his heat. It was almost comfortable. “Better?” he asked. She expected his tone to be mocking. But it wasn’t.
“Better.”
Before she knew it, Oro landed, his arms tightening around her as they made contact.
