Her arms shook as she made to get up.
That was when she saw it.
The floor was frosted over. Her body heat had warmed it enough that the icy coating had cleared, revealing a second library beneath.
Water. Dozens of relics were encased in water, chained down, floating below the floor.
A cape, its fabric moving unnaturally, flipping this way and that.
An arrow with a snowflake point.
Crystal daggers.
Books with locks.
Keys long as her arms.
No bondbreaker.
Nothing that even resembled an oversize glass needle.
Disappointment quickly turned to anger as she stood on shaky legs, stumbling to the side, having to steady herself against a block of ice.
Something hot dripped down her cheek.
Tears?
Was she crying and she didn’t even know it?
She lifted a trembling hand that came back crimson.
No. Blood.
Isla stepped forward and nearly collapsed.
Her other foot made to move, but her knee gave way.
First, her sore, burned arm. Then, the effects of the Moonling’s demonstration. Now, this head injury.
It was too much.
Isla had sworn she would break her curse, even if it meant breaking herself.
Perhaps she should have worded her promise a little differently.
Bangs echoed through the room—but they weren’t coming from the balcony or the sea. No, they were coming from the wall through which she had entered.
“We have the entire legion out here,” a voice yelled from the other side. “The ruler is on her way. You are cornered. There is nowhere to run. There is no way out.”
Isla smirked.
He was right. There was nowhere left to run.
Butno way out?
In that, he was wrong.
“Good thing I never planned on getting out the way I came,” she said to no one. Every part of her ached as she reached back her good arm and pulled her starstick from its place against her spine.
