But Oro was bound to the rules of the Centennial with his life. And Isla had to follow them if she wished to win.
On the seventy-fifth day, Carmel went on as planned.
A twenty-four-hour carnival meant to celebrate the last quarter of the Centennial, Carmel was a celebration of the realms for all islanders, not just nobles. Isla didn’t think anyone would show up for the event, not with what had happened at the ball, but, sure enough, the day before the carnival, shops opened their doors once more. People started filling the streets.
Isla didn’t need to attend the entire event—just some of it. She skipped the picnic in the morning. The festivities on the east side of the Mainland in the afternoon.
She wondered if Cleo would make an appearance, given her suspicion that the Moonling didn’t care about the rules. If shehadspun the curses, she would want to keep them intact ... not break them.
The Moonling would also want to keep anyone else from breaking them too.
Isla waited in her castle all day, listening at her window for echoes of the festivities. Music played far away. Glasses clinked as the celebrations moved toward the castle, into its gardens.
If tonight hadn’t been Carmel, she would be on Moon Isle, searching the final locations. Both of Terra’s legs were underground now. Flowers bloomed from the crown of her head.
It wouldn’t be long before the forest took her completely. It wouldn’t be long before there was no forest left.
One day of rest,she told herself. Then she would find the heart and get everything she wanted.
“You look ridiculous,” Celeste said.
It was just after dusk. The Starling had just returned from the festivities to call upon Isla. Isla had moved back into her room at the castle, at Oro’s insistence, since they were working together again. He promised he would take precautions to keep her safe.
Guards heavily monitored their hall. The king himself checked on her throughout the day.
Celeste and Isla were both dressed in elaborate, gleaming representations of their realms. The Starling ruler was covered in crystals, from the top of her neck to her long gloves and down to the fabric that puddled at her feet. Her hair was spotted with tiny diamonds that looked like stars that had been coaxed down from the galaxy just for the day.
That night, Isla was a rose in bloom. A crown of flowers had been placed atop her own, bright red against her dark hair. Pink petals had been pressed against her neck and trailed onto a bodice split into three parts. They became more and more elaborate until her waist—cinched tightly by ribbons crisscrossed down her spine—before blossoming from her hips in giant sheets. Rows of petals, all knitted together, trailed all the way to the floor. Her cape was a train of roses that ran five feet behind her.
They couldn’t walk into Carmel together. Oro likely knew of their friendship if he and his guards had been tracking her movements. But that wasn’t particularly alarming. Of course the youngest rulers would become friends. Still, they didn’t want anyone suspecting their alliance had predated the Centennial.
Celeste promised to be close by. And Isla only planned to stay a few minutes. Vendors lined the streets outside the castle, selling pickled porridge, elderberry scones, spun sugar that really did spin, and goblets and goblets of drink. Revelers from all daytime-dwelling realms roamed through the festivities, dressed in elaborate versions of their colors, their wariness fading with every second that passed without a disaster. Starlingswore glitter, Skylings wore hats that floated precariously above their heads in the breeze, and Moonlings wore white formal suits and dresses.
Everyone was staring at her. She imagined news of her powerlessness had spread. Though most of them had seen her at the duel. They had witnessed what she could do with a blade. She twirled one through her fingers, watching them back. Daring them to make a move.
Isla immediately noticed she was being followed. But not by Cleo.
Oro had arranged a guard of about half a dozen to trail her through the gardens. They were discreet, but Isla could feel their eyes on her.
Their protection made her bold. When a Starling carrying a tray of drink passed her by, she took one of the goblets.
She knew the odds of finding the heart and getting its power. This could very well be her last celebration. Her last chance to try wine.
Isla swallowed the drink.
It tasted like malted honey and burned its entire way down her throat.
The guards continued to trail her throughout the gardens. It only took a few moments before she began to feel weightless.
Wine couldn’t be that strong, could it? Had it been some sort of celebratory drink that was more potent than usual?
Celeste would know. Nobles stared at her as she walked past, searching the crowd for her friend. She didn’t see her anywhere. Perhaps she had left. Maybe she hadn’t been able to find Isla and went searching for her in her room.
Time to go,she thought. She had been at Carmel long enough to satisfy the rules. And the drink’s effects were firmly taking hold.
By the time she stepped up the stairs of the castle and into the halls, the world seemed to be stumbling. Or maybe that was her. She washot, too hot, the ridiculous outfit sticking to her like molasses. She took off her flower crown and let it drop on the ground. She peeled off the petals that trailed down her neck, choked by them. The entire outfit wasentirely too much. She undid her cape and let it fall behind her. Already, she felt so much better.Freer.Wilder.
Isla imagined the guards trailing her finding the bits of her dress and laughed.
