“No,” she said simply, the word slipping out of her mouth, into an empty night.
She had read about these enchanted bridges. Though everyone was traditionally allowed on any isle they wanted to visit, some realms had been known to restrict access during political turmoil. If Azul or the Lightlark-based Skyling government had decided those outside their realm weren’t allowed to pass, the bridge would collapse, sending her hurtling hundreds of feet below.
It was unlikely—but not impossible. If she fell, no one would hear her screams. Worse, if someone did, there would be nothing left of her to save.
Her entire realm would die in an instant, just because she was foolish enough to fall off a bridge.
It was too big a risk.
Isla took a step back.
Right into someone’s chest.
She stilled, forcing herself not to scream, then whirled around, hands splayed in apology.
A tall, freckled Skyling man stood there, eyes half-closed, a large cup of drink in his hand. “Crossing?” he said merrily, staring down at her as if nothing was amiss.
He didn’t question her hair.
Didn’t stare at her clothing or face like he recognized her.
His gaze narrowed then, and Isla froze, wondering if he was about to yell to all Lightlark that Isla Crown, ruler of Wildling, was trying to get onto Sky Isle.
Then she remembered he was staring at her strangely not because he was putting the puzzle pieces of her identity together but because she had been gaping up at him for several seconds without responding.
“Yes, of course,” she managed to say, forcing a smile.
He smiled back. His eyes flickered behind her, as if saying,So, are you going to cross, then?
Now she had no choice. Isla took a step, feeling at least a glimmer of comfort that should she plummet hundreds of feet, someone would know her fate right away.
Her foot was met by a steady plank.
Relief needled down the backs of her legs.
The rest of the way across was unsteady and filled with at least half a dozen more stomach-sinking feelings, but she made it to the other side in one piece.
Only to stop and stare at the world she had entered.
Sky Isle was a floating city. Giant chunks of rock hovered high above, strung together by bridges like beads on a bracelet. Waterfallsspilled right off levitating mountain ranges, their triangular bases and roots trailing far beneath them, almost to the ground. On the largest floating piece sat a palace with spires that shot so far up into the clouds they must have scratched the sky itself.
The ground beneath the floating city was far inferior—Isla felt like someone walking on the seafloor, looking up at the surface in wonder. Poppy had taught her that Skylings used to be able to fly, once upon a time. Before their curse bound them forever to the ground.
The only person who could fly now was Oro. As an Origin, he had all the Lightlark realms’ powers. But not their curses. Only Sunling’s, since his family had claimed the realm as their own long ago.
The second city, built beneath the first, covered every inch of a mountain. At its peak stood a tower tall enough to reach the very bottom of the closest floating rock. Isla wondered ifthatwas how one entered the flying city—and who was allowed to. At the mountain’s base sat a marketplace that smelled of peppermint and ale.
Mostly ale.
Someone tumbled from the closest pub, right into the street, face bright pink, barely missing a puddle of vomit.
Skylings were well-known for their celebratory nature. Part of her wanted to rush into the closest bar and down her first drink, knowing it gave others courage.
But she couldn’t risk the distraction or an adverse effect. Not tonight.
Celeste had found out the location of the library through her attendant, a Skyling boy with pale skin and a voice so soft it was hard to even hear him. It supposedly used to be located high above but now had taken over a tower in the newer Sky Isle castle, at the base of the great mountain.
Isla had wondered about the best way to sneak into the palace—but, it turned out, Skylings weren’t as pretentious or paranoid as other realms. The castle doors were open, welcoming any of its people, from nobles to other islanders, inside. No guards were present.
